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Mickey and Cotton walked back to the house together, while Iggy had said something about visiting one of his numerous girlfriends.
Cotton was silently singing some song he had heard on the old, dented radio in their kitchen and Mickey was smoking a cigarette, hatefully staring everybody down who dared to look at his brother the wrong way.
“I need a break, Mickey. These skates are heavy to carry.” Cotton had stopped walking and was looking at him, as he put the skates down on the ground. Mickey sighed and looked around, spotting a bench a couple of feet down the street.
He picked up the shoes and headed for the resting place he had chosen for the two of them. His brother following, sitting down on the graffiti-covered wood, leaning against the backrest. Mickey sat down next to him.
Fascinated by his breath turning into a small, white cloud in the cold winter air, Cotton intensively breathed in and out, mimicking Mickey, who was smoking a cigarette.
“I wanna smoke, like you do, Mickey. It looks cool!” He tried to snatch the smoke out of his brothers mouth, which earned him a mean stare and a slap on the hand. His face instantly turned into a pout, and Mickey felt his guilty conscience sneak into his brain like the cold air snuck underneath his jacket, as the blonde boy's eyes started filling up with tears.
“Ow. That hurt me.” Mickey sighed, flicking his cigarette onto the street and putting an arm around his brother.
“I'm sorry, Cotton. I didn't mean to slap you. Where does it hurt?” He bit his lip, a trait he had learned by watching his twin, and pointed his finger towards his right hand.
“There!” He sniffed and lifted it in front of Mickeys face. He took a quick look around, checking to see if anyone was watching them, then grabbed the hand and quickly planted a kiss on top of it.
“All better now?” Cotton nodded eagerly and went back to his original question.
“So why can't I smoke, like you?” Mickey shook his head.
“Naw, you don't wanna do that. It's bad for you.” He grabbed one of the dead bushes that were growing next to the little bench and snapped off a small twig.
“Here, you can use this and just pretend. Just blow in the air and it'll look like you're smoking, too. Wanna do that instead?” Cotton instantly grabbed the twig and put it in the corner of his mouth, like Mickey usually did, raising his eyebrows, a smug grin on his face.
“This is how you look!” Mickey laughed and shoved his brother.
“No, I don't. I look way cooler!” Before Cotton could say anything else, they heard crackling noises in the bushes behind them and suddenly someone grabbed the blonde by the shoulders and screamed:
“Boo!” He let out an excited laugh when he saw Ian climbing over the bench and standing in front of them.
“Just the men I was looking for. I wanted to come visit you at the house but nobody was there. Cotton, don't believe anything Mickey says, you look way cooler with that cigarette. I promise!” Cotton sat up straight, bursting with pride. Mickey shook his head, smiling at his boyfriend.
“So not true. Why do you guys always plot against me, huh?” His brother giggled and Ian raised his eyebrows.
“It's because I like Cotton way more than I like you!” The blonde shook his head vehemently.
“No, you love Mickey, you told me!” Ian jumped forward and squeezed himself in between the tiny space between Mickey and Cotton, putting his arms around the both of them. Mickey let it happen for a moment, then stood up to get rid of his boyfriends grip.
“That I do, but I love you at least this much more.” Ian showed Cotton a small space between his thumb and his index finger, then let the boy place a huge, sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“Why, thank you.” Mickey lit up another cigarette, watching his two favorite people, a tiny hint of jealousy in the back of his head.
“Alright, alright. Settle down, lovebirds. How about we go to the ice rink, huh?” Cotton shot up to his feet, jumping around like he had a bee in his pants.
“Yes, let's go, Mickey. Can Ian come? He can take Iggys ice skates.”
Mickeys smile lit up when he saw how excited his brother was.
“Of course he can. I actually think I just heard him say that he wanted buy us dinner afterwards.” Ian laughed and got up while Cotton jumped off towards the ice skating rink.
“I have to admit something to you.” Ian said as they walked next to each other, a small gap between them, because Mickey was still hesitant to show himself with Ian in public. There was no need to poke the bear, especially in their neighborhood.
“And what is that?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips.
“I do love you more than I love Cotton. Not that much more, but you're definitely at the top of my list!” He nudged his boyfriend and quickly pecked him on the cheek.
“You're an idiot, Gallagher!” Mickey said, hoping that Ian knew what he actually meant, even though he couldn't bring himself to say it very often. He didn't have to. Ian knew.