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The bank.
Now that Ian had a steady income, working as an EMT, he actually had reason to be at the bank. Not that he particularly liked it, somehow it was always full, and everything took ages. Going to the bank was a full afternoon filling event.
But the waiting situation wasn't the worst thing.
Ian was always uneasy when he was in the bank. They didn't really live in the best part of town so a bank robbery wouldn't be highly unlikely.
Today, he was particularly nervous. It was like he felt something was bound to happen.
He looked around but everything seemed normal. Just normal people doing their business.
Suddenly Ian heard a shotgun cocking.
His head snapped up to the direction of the noise.
From every corner of the room masked people pulled guns out, people were screaming, and Ian felt chaos erupting around and inside of him.
"Silence!", one of the men screamed, "Everybody stays calm and no one gets hurt! Lie on the ground, everyone!"
Ian pressed his body flat on the ground.
"Don't you dare to press that button, sweetheart", one of them said to an employee and pointed his gun at her.
"Give us money and we'll be gone in no time", a female voice with a thick Russian accent called.
While some of the robbers collected the money, the others went through the lines of terrified people, making sure no one called the cops or did something similar stupid.
One of them stood close to Ian.
Ian raised his head to look at him, hoping he could see his face or memorize some details.
The man looked down to him, Ian could see the eyes behind the mask widening.
The Gallagher felt the shotgun under his chin, slowly pushing his face up so the masked man could see him better - suddenly he took a step back.
"Fuck!", he exclaimed. The others looked at him confused.
"Guys, we need to go! That one here, think he's on the list"
Another guy walked over.
"Bullshit!", he looked at Ian, who lay terrified and highly confused on the ground.
"Holy fuck", the guy got a scrambled paper from his pants and looked from it to Ian.
"Shit, shit, shit! Get up! Get the fuck up!"
Ian got up from the ground and stood in front of the men on shaking legs, the robbers took a step back in fear.
"Abort the fucking mission, we've got a NH01 here! He's gonna kill us all, if he finds out! Go go go!", one of them yelled.
Suddenly all the robbers stared at Ian before quickly, but organised moving to the door. Just the female robber looked at Ian a little longer, before leaving as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To say Ian was confused was an understatement.
He sat in the Alibi with his brothers.
"Wow man, you were in a real bank robbery that's so cool!", Carl exclaimed.
"No, it's not cool, it's fucking terrifying"
Kevin round up a new line of shots for them.
"Heard in the news that the robbers left without the money after seemingly recognising some of the poor bastards in there", Kevin said.
"Yeah, that was me!", Ian explained, "It was so fucking weird! They all seemed to recognise me. My face is on some fucking list or something!"
"And so, they just ran away?", Lip asked.
"Maybe they think you're some kind of dangerous superhero", Carl suggested.
"No, no I don't think so. They told me to get up and then they left. Said, 'he' whoever that might be, will kill them if he found out"
"Found what out?"
"I have no fucking idea! That I was there, I guess? They called be... what was that... NH01?"
The brothers looked at him confused.
"You're on the no harm list", Kevin exclaimed.
All three Gallagher's looked at Kevin with raised eyebrows.
"I'm what?"
"Every cartel, every gang has a 'do not harm' list. The boss sets the list, it's usually lovers and family that isn't part of the gang itself. If one of the members hurts one of the list, they're dead!"
"How the fuck do you know so much about that?", Lip asked.
Kevin shrugged, "I'm a bartender, Lip. I listen."
"And you think I'm on the list of a gang?"
"Not only that! If they called you NH01, you're the fucking first one who stands on that list. If something would happen to you, no matter what, like lying in the dirt at a robbery, everyone who engaged in the action, will be punished."
"Man, who did you blow so good, it got you on number one of a fucking cartel no harm list?", Lip asked and downed his shot.
Ian shrugged, he couldn't think of anyone that he had something with, that would be head of a fucking gang or cartel now.
"Maybe they just mistook me for another ginger...", Ian mumbled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The whole thing was stuck in Ian's head.
He just couldn't forget about it.
Did the people just confuse him with another ginger or was he really somehow on such a list?
If the whole thing was even real. Maybe the robbers were just high and said some bullshit and Kevin's story was just put together from movies and conversation fragments.
He mentally went through all his ex-boyfriends and affairs of the last three years.
But there was just no one who could do something like that.
He debated who was more likely to be a gang leader - the bisexual black firefighter or the gay trans man that he dated. Or maybe the wealthy, married doctor who was the dad of his sister's boyfriend - family gatherings were still slightly uncomfortable.
Suddenly a black car pulled up next to him. Ian stopped dead in his tracks.
What now?
At first, he got into a bank robbery and a week later he was kidnapped or what?
The dark car window rolled down and revealed a woman with brown hair in the back seat. She looked at him coldly.
"Get in", she said. Ian recognised her. It was the Russian woman from the robbery.
Ian looked around if anyone could see them, but the streets were empty.
He eventually opened the car door and the woman scooted over so Ian could sit.
She pushed her high heels into the back of the drivers' seat.
"Home", she said.
Ian's hands were shaking, his throat was dry. He wanted to know where they were going, who was behind this.
Maybe they found out that he wasn't really the guy from that list and now they wanted to kill him for ruining their mission.
"Am-Am I gonna die? ", Ian asked anxiously.
The woman's facial expression was emotionless when she pulled out a paper from her handbag and handed it to him.
"That you?", she asked.
It was the first page of a list.
His photo was staring back at him, yes it was undoubtedly Ian.
Next to the photo he read
"01: IG. CHICAGO. TOUCH & DIE"
"Yes... yes that's me", he whispered shocked.
"Then you will not die"
Ian swallowed, this was getting weirder.
He looked at the other two photos below his.
"02: MM. N.Y. SHE'LL KILL YOU FIRST", was put next to a picture of a dark-haired girl that seemed strangely familiar.
The woman snatched the list out of his hands again and put it away.
"You're nosy.", she said, "I don't like it"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The car stopped outside the city in front of a big building.
"Get out", the woman said.
Ian did so and she led him into the building, past armed people that all seemed to respect or fear her... or both. She seemed really intimidating and Ian only just met her.
They stopped in front of a big door.
"He's busy", one of the armed guys in front of the door said.
"Tell him, Svetlana brought present"
"He told me, that he doesn't want to be disturbed. No matter what."
"Tell him", she repeated, "Or did you forget your place?"
"Your commands aren't more important than his. You're only in charge if he's away."
"Tell him, I brought orange boy. Then you tell him, you didn't let me in immediately."
Svetlana stared him down and Ian pitied him when he finally gave in and spoke into his walky-talky.
"Boss, sorry, but Svetlana wants to talk to you. Seems important."
"I told you, I don't want to be disturbed!", a voice answered.
Ian tried to recognise it, but it was too distorted.
Svetlana stared the security guy in the eye while pressing down on the walky talky button and saying: "I brought Orange boy"
There was brief silence and a smile crept up her face when she got the answer
"Come in"
Svetlana opened the doors and motioned Ian to follow her.
Ian swallowed hard and followed her. He actually just wanted to run. This felt wrong. He shouldn't be here.
He found himself in an office.
It was strangely tidy in contrast to the rest of the torn-down building.
Ian couldn't see who sat behind the desk in the end of the room because he was walking directly behind Svetlana, eyes glued on the ground.
"I brought Orange Boy. Like I said, found him on robbery last week. No harm."
"Well, could you fucking move then, so I can see him?"
Ian's head snapped up at that voice.
That voice... Ian would recognise it everywhere!
But that couldn't be... no... he was... he was dead...
Svetlana stepped to the side and Ian came face to face with Mickey Milkovich.
Mickey fucking Milkovich.
The blue eyed beauty that used to be the love of his life. Or at least his teenage years.
He looked older... he was still beautiful.
Ian didn't know how to react.
There sat the boy he loved and thought he lost.
His lover who he mourned, who he cried over, who made him never love anyone ever again.
He wanted to cry, he wanted to break down, he wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, he wanted to punch Mickey, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to hug him, he wanted to look him in the eyes for hours and never let him go again.
Mickey smiled at him sadly, unsure.
"It's really you", he whispered.
Ian could feel his eyes brim with tears.
"Svetlana, leave us alone", Mickey said quickly, and the woman left the office again.
Mickey walked around the desk until he stood in front of Ian.
He brought a rough, tattooed hand up to his face and touched his cheek gently as if he himself couldn't belief Ian was standing in front of him.
Ian melted into his touch, a tear rolled down his face and Ian lunged forwards, wrapping his arms tightly around the Milkovich.
His legs gave out and he had to use Mickey as support.
"I thought you were dead", Ian whispered hysterically, his face buried in Mickey's shoulder, "I thought you were dead. For years, you were dead. I watched you die, I saw you dying"
Mickey ran his hand through Ian's red hair, shushing him gently.
"It's okay. I'm alive, I'm right here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took several minutes for Ian to calm down at least to a degree, where he could stop hugging Mickey without having a panic attack.
They sat down on the couch in his office.
Ian held Mickeys hand in his hands so tightly, Mickey felt a slight pain rushing through his arm, but he couldn't care less. Ian leaned against his shoulder.
"Where were you all those years?", Ian asked.
"Ukraine", Mickey whispered, "I'm back for two years now. Took over the cartel a few months later, after my dad died."
"Why didn't you come back to me?", Ian asked, why didn't Mickey go look for him after he came back? Why did he let Ian think, he was dead?
"I wanted to. But how would I know if you still wanted me? I was gone for five years. That's longer than we were together... I decided I would only cause trouble, if I came back. So, I stayed away."
Ian held his hand even tighter.
"You had to go through so much pain because of me", Mickey whispered, leaning his head against Ian's, "I would understand it, if you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me anymore"
Ian lifted his head up and looked his ex-lover in the eyes, seeing the all too familiar sad look in them.
"I thought you were dead", Ian whispered again, "I won't let you leave me ever again"
Mickey smiled sadly and ran his hand through Ian's dark red hair.
"Fuck, I've missed you", he said quietly, "But I'm the head of a feared drug cartel now. That really the kind of person, you want to be with?"
"I don't care. I just want you back, I want back what we had then, I want even more than that."
Mickey leaned their foreheads together.
"Lyubov moho zhyttya", he whispered [pr: lybof-mo-ho-jit-ya] [love of my life]
Ian smiled. When they were young Mickey would say his love declarations only in Ukrainian. It was literally his mother tongue, his mom always talked to him in it. He connected the language with love and caring, while his dad - even though from Ukrainian decent - couldn't speak it, just like he couldn't love.
Somehow everything Mickey said in the hard language sounded beautiful to Ian, because he knew, that Mickey told him he loved him, even though he couldn't understand the words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flashback.
10 years ago
It was dark and Ian Mickey sat on the little bench in the baseball dugout.
"Mick...", a fourteen-year-old Ian spoke finally.
"Yeah?" the fifteen year old answered.
"You know... you're my best friend, right?"
"Of course,", Mickey whispered and took a gulp from his beer.
He saw so much more in Ian than a friend, he wanted to be so much more to him. He wanted to kiss him and touch him and be with every hour of the day.
"A-And... I told you... I told you I'm gay..."
Mickey nodded absentmindedly. His thoughts too far gone in a dreamworld where Ian and him could be more than this.
"And you said... you said, that we'll always stay friends... no matter what?"
"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up Ian?"
"I... I think I have a crush on you..."
Mickey looked at him with wide eyes and an opened mouth.
"I mean, that doesn't have to change anything! We can just be friends, I can- I can get over it or-"
Mickey shut him up by kissing him roughly.
7 years ago
"Say it again", Ian smiled.
They both lay on the couch, half naked, cuddled up together under a thin blanket. They had the whole weekend just to themselves since Mickey's dad was gone with his brothers.
Mickey chuckled, "ja tebe kokhaju "[pr: ya tebe kahaju] [I love you]
"It sounds funny", Ian grinned, "Ya tebe kokhaju"
Mickey laughed up at him, pulling him into a deep kiss.
Suddenly the door swung open, the sound of it being thrown shut aggressively again went through the bodies of the two boys as they pulled apart as fast as they could - not fast enough.
Mickey's dad stood in the doorway to the living room, Ian felt fear rushing through him and he couldn't breathe.
"Dad, dad hold on!", Mickey tried to calm his father, "It's not what it looks like- "
The first hard punch landed in Ian's face.
He felt his nose breaking. He groaned in pain.
He felt the punches on his face, a ring cutting his cheek and his chest. Through the numbing pain he could hear Mickey scream.
"Get the fuck off him! Get the fuck off him!", he threw himself on his dad, pulling him off Ian.
And Ian could hear the next punches.
He heard the horrific sound of Terry's fist colliding with Mickey's body, Mickey's pleas for mercy. Ian felt sick.
He sat up and looked around, panicking.
He had to do something- he got up, ready to run to the gun cabinet, but Terry pulled a gun out and pointed it at Ian.
"Sit your ass down! Fucking ass-digger!", he motioned Ian to sit back on the couch across from Mickey.
His whole face was already bloody and bruised. He gasped and groaned, trying to lunge for the weapon, making him stop putting Ian in danger.
Terry used the handle of the gun to land another hard hit.
Ian could only sit there and watch. He watched the love of his live being beaten to death, punch after punch landed, Ian could hear Mickey's bones cracking and at some point... Mickey didn't move anymore.
His body just lay there, completely broken, the only movement came from the force of the last few punches meeting the seemingly lifeless body.
Ian cried. He cried silently, tears running down his face in an unstoppable flow.
At some point he slid from the couch, kneeling in front of Mickey's body, crying.
He didn't even notice Terry stopping and leaving the room.
Ian cried and cried, not being able to stop or to do anything else. He sobbed and let out a loud whining noise, that turned into a loud, desperate scream.
He didn't know how long he just sat there in front of Mickey and cried and screamed and begged him to wake up, begged him to not be dead, begged him to not leave him.
But at some point - what seemed like hours - Terry threw Ian's clothes at him, untouched by the broken teenager or his dead son.
"Leave my fucking house"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now
Ian let out a shaky breath.
He took one hand from Mickey's and brought it up to Mickey's face.
He ran his fingers over a fainted scar near his eyes.
"I love you", he whispered, "I never said that to anyone but you, ever."
Mickey smiled and caressed Ian's cheek with his free hand, drew his thumb over his lover's lips. The last time they kissed was seven years ago... he missed it every day since.
Ian leaned in and they met in a slow, desperate kiss, full of emotion, full of love and sadness and longing. They let go of their hands just for Ian to cup Mickey's face and for Mickey to run his hands through Ian's hair.
When they finally separated after what seemed an eternity, they stayed just as close, their lips only inches apart.
The looked each other in the eye and they needed a moment to realise, that they were both okay. That they were both alive and together. That they were safe here and that they could kiss again. That no one just stormed in and almost killed them.
"Can we just stay here, like this for a while?", Ian whispered.
Mickey nodded and smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later
Ian had stayed at Mickey's, in the furnished and habitable part of the cartel building - they lay in his bed together.
Ian was in Mickey's arms. Back then, when they were young and everything seemed possible, Ian was always the one to hold Mickey, he was the big spoon and Mickey loved cuddling up to him. But since Mickey was back, Ian was so scared of losing him while having flashbacks from that day over and over again, that Mickey held him close whenever he could, always willing to protect him from the mad world outside. Like now, Ian's head rested in Mickey's shoulder, his arm over Mickeys chest, while the Milkovich's arms were wrapped around Ian.
"Don't the others care?", Ian whispered.
"Who cares about what?"
"Your... I don't know, employees? Cartel members?"
Mickey chuckled and pressed a kiss on the top of Ian's head.
"Don't they care that you're with a guy?"
"My right hand is Svetlana, a badass, cold-hearted, Russian lesbian bitch. They're all scared of her despite her being gay. They all respect me. They feared my father, guess they also fear me, but they respect me. That is much more important. And there is no room for hating on my love life in fear and respect. They know that gay people aren't weak, or that they aren't somehow inferior to them. They experienced it with Lana first hand, and them knowing that I'm with you doesn't change them knowing not to fuck with me. Simple as that."
Ian smiled and cuddled closer to his small thug boyfriend.
"Also, since I'm in charge we've got a lot of new members that are mainly ex-militaries. Thrown out of military mostly navy, for being gay. I wanna see some of the others trying to put up a fight with them", Mickey chuckled.
Ian probed himself up on his elbows and leaned up to kiss Mickey.
"I'm still afraid to sleep... what if I wake up and you are gone again?"
"I stay right here, with you, fire crotch", Mickey whispered and tugged a strand of red hair back behind Ian's ear, "How about, tomorrow, we'll go back to your house, hm? Meet your family. They're gonna be worried about you being gone for so long. Little Liam must've gotten big by now"
Ian smiled and kissed him again.
"You mean, we can tell them?"
Mickey nodded, "I won't let anybody get between us ever again, freckles. I'll be openly together with you."
Ian smiled at him, "I love you"
"ja tebe kokhaju ", Mickey smiled at him and pecked his lips.