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The Alibi Room was, by its own standards, crowded.
It was friday night and in addition to the usuals sitting at the bar chatting and drinking with Kev, the bartender, the booths and tables were filled with other people from the neighborhood and even a few strangers, most likely tourists, that hadn't known better than to visit a rundown bar in the Southside of Chicago.
The booze was flowing, the nuts and other snacks on the tables constantly emptied by people trying to fill their empty stomachs without having to pay for it and the atmosphere became louder and happier with every alcoholic beverage sold.
Among the old drunks at the bar, lost in a whispered conversation, where Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich.
The young pair, both in their late teens, had come in earlier in the evening, unusually cheery and already slightly buzzed and they hadn't stopped huddling together, drinking and talking, convinced nobody would notice the little touches and glances they exchanged then and there, when they felt as if nobody was watching.
Mickeys phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out in front of his face, waiting for the blurry letters to become clear in front of his eyes.
>> Ian: Follow me!
The darkhaired boy shot Ian a confused look when the next message arrived.
>> Ian: Don't look at me like that. I'm gonna go and you're gonna wait a few seconds and follow me. Got it?
Though not fully grasping what the redheads intentions were, he nodded and Ian smiled contently, downing his coke, slamming the glass on the counter and strutting off towards the restrooms.
As ordered, Mickey stayed seated and let his eyes wander through the room. The dim light didn't leave much room for surveiling the current guests so he only saw shadows and some faces where the light of the sinking sun shone through the smoked, dirty windows.
A group of men around his age, maybe a little older sat in the far back of the bar but it was too far away to make out any faces. Something about them seemed familiar, though. For a short moment, Mickey, by force of habit, felt a rush of fear jolt through his body.
Had they seen him with Ian? Were they whispering to each other, shooting him weirded out looks?
Then he remembered the night at this very same bar, how he'd blasted out he was gay and with Ian. It would take him another few weeks to get used to being out. Before he could form another thought, his phone buzzed again.
>> Ian: Something happen on the way to the bathroom? Did you die or sth???
Mickey chuckled at the impatience of his, well, boyfriend and got up, trying to look casual as he walked towards the doors of the mensroom.
Ian was standing by the sink, cheeks flushed and a cheeky grin on his face as he grabbed Mickey by the shirt and started kissing him, shoving them both against the dirty tiles of the Alibi Men's Room.
While thoroughly enjoying the ambush, Mickey still had some concern about the unlocked door. He pushed Ian back and held him at armslength.
„Hold up, Romeo. What if someone comes in?“ Ian shrugged. Someone coming in was the last of his concerns at the moment, with his lover in front of him and his dick painfully trapped in his tight jeans.
Mickey didn't seem to want to drop the matter though, so Ian sighed extensively and pulled him into one of the stalls, closing the door behind them.
„Better now?“ he asked rhethorically, already leaning in again to meet the older boys lips. Because this was nothing more than a quick fuck and they were at high risk of being detected, they soon moved to ripping each others clothes off, biting and kissing in the process.
They pulled their pants down and Mickey leaned over the toilet, supporting himself on the wall behind.
„This is the most romantic thing I've ever experienced,“ Ian giggled as he placed himself behind Mickey.
The thug sighed. He was turned on, definitely, surprised by Ian's offer, for sure, but he was also incredibly nervous with a bunch of drunk people sitting only a wall away.
„Shut up and get this show on the road. I ain't got all day," he yapped. Ian gave him a sharp slap on the ass and gripped his hips.
„Relax, Mick. Nobody's gonna come in.“
He was proven wrong five minutes into their quickie, Ian balls deep inside of Mickey, when the door slammed open and the footsteps passing their stall made them freeze in their position.
By the sound of the muffled complaining and heavy breathing, it was Kev, the bartender.
They heard him pottering around at the sink until the footsteps came closer again, while they stood still to avoid making unnecessary noise.
Mickeys heart sank into his boots when the steps stopped in front of their stall and the door swung open, stopped only by Ians bare ass.
Kevin didn't see much, due to Ian blocking the door, but he'd seen enough to grasp what was going on.
„Holy fuck!“, he blurted out before bursting out a laugh. When he didn't move, Mickey lost his nerve.
„What are you doing? Get the fuck outta here!“
Kev, who was only just realizing he was staring at them shamelessly, closed the door and left the bathroom quickly, only to return a few seconds after.
„I was only here to refill. Here, figured you might need this once you're done.“
Ian and Mickey stared each other, confused, until a roll of toilet paper landed on Mickeys head and the door slammed shut behind the seven foot giant of a man.
„Relax, Mick. Nobody's gonna come in,“ Mickey imitated Ian, as he pushed him off, yanking his pants back on. The ginger didn't seem the least bothered by Kevin catching them, while his partner was running hot, grinning slightly as he got dressed again.
„Sure you don't wanna finish?“, he asked, wiggling his eyebrows, but Mickey only gave him a hard shove so he could leave the stall.
„If you don't stop that stupid grin, I'mma peel it off with my jackknife,“ he hissed, tapping the pocket of his jeans where he kept his weapon.
Ian rolled his eyes and washed his hands before laying his hand on the door handle.
„You ready? This isn't gonna be pretty.“ Mickey just rolled his eyes, bracing himself to be the laughing stock of the whole bar. There was just no way Kevin would keep his mouth shut about what had just happened.
Mickey would have kept silent if something similar had happened to him. Would have minded his own business, as he usually did, but Kevin was hardly like him.
With a last deep breath, Ian opened the door and all eyes were on them, one grin smugger than the other. As they walked back to their bar stools people started clapping and hooting and Mickey shot Kevin a glare, but the bartender was suddenly very interested in the patterns of his dirty rug instead of meeting either of the boys deadly glares.
„Way to go boys!“ Howie, a bearded bar regular cheered as they yanked on their coats and beanies, trying to make a quick escape.
The calls of the drunk people in the bar were harmless, lots of saluting happening and a couple of 'As you were, Sailors' sounded through the thick air of the Alibi Room.
Ian was almost relieved. This could have gone way worse, at least nobody was seriously hating on them and he hadn't forgotten about the switchblade in the other boys pocket. Although never having experienced it, Ian knew from Mandy's stories that Mickey was very skilful with a knife and all too willing to use it, too.
They were already halfway out the door when some guy that Ian had seen before but didn't know by name, made a snide comment that made Mickey slam the door shut, focussing all the attention on him.
„Guess although being crazy, he can still fuck. Good for him.“
Kevs eyes met Ians and they both knew that guy better ran out the backdoor now, because what was about to come wasn't going to be pretty.
Ian layed an hand on Mickeys shoulder, trying to calm him down, but he was shrugged off.
„Say that again, I dare you.“ Mickey's voice was nothing more than a low growl but the dude didn't seem to catch the danger he was in. He grabbed his beer and lit the cigarette that was dangling from the side of his mouth.
„What are you freaking out about? I just said I'm glad you're still getting laid, with your ginger being crazy and all“
Kev shook his head regretfully and quickly snatched every glass in an armslength from the counter. These things were expensive and glass was bound to shatter once Mickey, growling like an angry terrier, reached the bar.
Mickey stepped up to the guy and kicked at the stand of the bar stool the man was sitting on, until it tipped and he fell onto the dirty, ash-covered floorboards.
After a few well-placed kicks, he managed to crawl away and had almost reached the door where Ian was standing, waiting for Mickey to get his frustrations out, but somebody else stepped in the way.
„Hold up, asshole. Don't think Mickey's done with you just yet.“
Iggy Milkovich stood there with his arms crossed and that crooked smirk, that he wore so well, on his unwashed face and suddenly Mickey knew why the guys in the back of the bar seemed familiar.
Fueled by a well-placed kick, the guy tumbled back in Mickeys direction who caught him with a punch to the gut.
At this point the drunk didn't seem to be able to stand very well, be it from the tons of alcohol pumping through his blood, or Mickey's punches but Ian decided to step in at the same time Kev did.
„Mick. Enough“, they said in unison and Mickey raised a finger, gesturing to give him another moment.
He kneeled down where the guy had sat down, resting his back against the counter. He grabbed him by a few strands of barely even existing top hair and forced him to look at him.
„I think you gotta apologize to Ian, don't you?“ The guy looked to where Ian was standing next to Iggy and sighed.
„Sorry!“, he spat but Mickey was not satisfied yet.
„Sorry what?“ The dude sighed again which earned him a sharp tug on his hair.
„Ow, for fuck's sake. Alright, alright. Sorry I called you crazy. You're obviously not. You're man on the other hand..“ Mickey huffed commiseratively and banged the drunks head against the wood behind his head.
He placed a few bills on the counter.
It was definitely more than his beers and Ians coke was worth but it felt necessary.
„Sorry, for your, uh, troubles,“ Mickey stammered, slightly nodding towards the restrooms. Kev grabbed the money and nodded, giving Mickey a reasurring smile.
„Not even in the top five of weirdest things I've walked in on, so don't worry.“ He chuckled and proceeded wiping dirty glasses with his dirty rag.
They walked out the door, Iggy following close behind.
„Where the hell did you even come from?“ Mickey asked his brother when he had caught up with them. Iggy shrugged.
„Was planning a run in the back and saw you. Couldn't not help my little, tiny brother, could I?“ Mickey flipped him off and turned his attention to Ian.
„You okay?“, he asked lowly, eyeing him carefully. Ian smiled.
„Think you might be my knight in shining armour.“ He ducked away from the slap coming his way and laughed heartily.
„I'm fine. How's your hand?“ Mickey shrugged the question of. His hand had endured a lot more in the past than a couple of punches.
„You know what?“ Iggy began. „Think I'm gonna go back to the Alibi Room.“ Mickey gave him a questioning glance and the thugh shrugged.
„Figured you guys are gonna finish what you started in there once we're home and I do not need to hear that – again.“ He shuddered at the memory of coming back early from a run one day and having to listen to an hour and a half of loud moaning. An event that had scarred even a true Milkovich like him.
Mickey didn't know what to say for the moment so he just lit a cigarette instead.
„Fucking in the bathroom of a bar. Think you might be my brother after all, Mick. I've never been so proud.“ Iggy padded his brother on the back, saluted towards Ian and ran off before his brother could beat him up too.