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“Would you stop staring at your fucking mark? Jesus,” Lip snaps at Ian before dropping on the chair next to him by the Gallagher kitchen table.
Ian glares at his brother. “I just—”
“Can't figure it out, we know.” It’s a chorus of every Gallagher sibling.
Ian sighs and puts his band back to cover his mark before grabbing his tiny bowl of cereal and taking a spoonful. His siblings can make fun of him all they want, but they don’t get it. Their soul marks make sense. All their sentences are all things someone would say to another person as soon as they meet. Meanwhile, Ian's sentence is definitely not the first thing his soulmate will say to him. It’s a response to something he says. Or some kind of observation? Who the fuck knows?
Says the guy with fiery red hair
What the hell kind of opening is that? What does Ian do or say to prompt that kind of response?
Next to him Lip sighs before standing up to squeeze his shoulder. “Look, at least your mark is not something common, right?” he asks Ian who nods reluctantly. “Take comfort in that Ian, you don’t hear something like that every day. No one has ever said that to you. So be glad you don’t have some basic sentence like Carl.”
“Hey!” Carl protests before closing the door on the way out.
Ian nods again. “Thanks, Lip.”
His brother is right. His mark may be baffling, and it sounds like Ian offends his soulmate from the get-go, but at least it’s not a common line. He can be confident only his soulmate would say that to him.
He won’t tell Lip but that does help; It makes him feel a lot better. “Your hook up still waiting for me at the Alibi?” Ian directs at his brother who’s putting on his shoes.
Lip glances at his phone. “In thirty minutes, don’t be late.”
Ian grabs his bowl and goes to drop it in the sink. “Thanks, I got nothing to do all weekend. Wanna relax.”
“What if they call you in for work?”
Ian shrugs. “Then I’ll tell Rita I'm high. She knows I got the weekend off.”
Lip laughs. “Got it.” He salutes Ian with the middle finger. “See you later, man.”
/****/****/****/
Ian is about to walk into the Alibi when he hears what is definitely a fight going down in the alley. He goes to check and sees a girl holding one guy in a chokehold while the other is between her legs and he's definitely not breathing either. Ian would step in, but the girl doesn’t look like she needs any help. Very impressed, he crosses his arms and stands there waiting, just in case. Both men simultaneously go limp, passing out. The breathless girl finally lets them go, before standing up and slapping dirt off her extremely short skirt.
She then turns around and spits on the guy closest to her. “You never fuck with Mandy Milkovich.”
Ian's jaw drops when he realizes it’s the girl he's supposed to be buying weed from. “Well, that’s one hell of a first impression.”
The girl turns her attention to Ian with a raised eyebrow. She looks him up and down then smirks. “Says the guy with fiery red hair.”
Ian stops breathing. His heart drops and suddenly his left hand with his soul mark feels heavy. “Wh…what?” he manages to stammer out. Ian can't move, completely shaken to the core. This can't be happening. This girl is beautiful and badass and will make someone really happy, but that person can't be Ian. It can't be. Right?
Mandy frowns at him then gestures at his hair. “‘M talking about your hair?” Ian can't speak. Suddenly the summer heat seems too much. Can the universe really be this cruel? “You alright?” Mandy is suddenly next to him. She reaches to grab his elbow, but Ian can't help flinching away. “Um, okay. You don’t look too good. Let’s get you inside.”
Ian silently allows himself to be led inside the Alibi. He thinks he hears Kev and Vee say hello, but he can't respond. He is so confused right now.
“Ian? Your name’s Ian? You’re Lip’s brother,” Mandy states. At Ian's timid nod, she pulls out a chair and gestures for him to sit. She drops on the opposite chair and now she's smiling happily for some reason while Ian slowly dies inside. “He says you're his best friend.”
The unexpected statement stops Ian from getting consumed by his existential crisis and he focuses on her again. “I am. Why?”
Mandy looks weirdly giddy and oh God, is this because they're soulmates?
“He can't bring himself to tell his family but you must know, right?” She looks at Ian expectantly. “Since you're his best friend.”
Ian wants to take off his t-shirt he’s so hot. Shit, he needs a drink, his throat is so dry. This is the worst day of his life. “Know what?”
“That he found his soulmate!” she whispers and Ian frowns at her because, what?! “Me!”
Ian exhales so loudly in relief that he leans back and practically slides down on his seat. “Oh, thank God.”
Mandy chuckles excitedly. “I know, right?”
Now that Ian's thinking about it, Mandy did not react to his words. Not like he did to hers. Matter of fact she was completely unaffected. He is so busy being happy that his soulmate is not a woman that he forgets to be upset that Lip found his soulmate and didn’t say anything. Luckily, Mandy hasn’t noticed a single thing and is still talking, giving Ian his answer.
“Wait, he won’t tell us he found you because you're a Milkovich?”
Mandy shrugs. “He says your big sister can be a cunt.”
Ian looks at Mandy in disbelief. “ He said that?”
She grins. “I paraphrased.”
They both laugh. He's not wrong. Fiona can be a little judgmental. Okay, a lot judgmental. But if they're soulmates she can't do shit about it. Ian is going to fix this. Mandy seems like a great person.
“I’ll talk to her,” he says. “You're too pretty to be a secret.” Mandy blushes and Ian is glad she didn’t do that before everything was cleared up. Then, he really would have had a heart attack.
“Do you want the stuff right now or should we order first?”
“Yes please!” Ian exclaims. He deserves a drink after the rollercoaster of emotions he's been through in the last five minutes.
Longest five minutes of his life.
/****/****/****/
Ian almost kills his brother that night for nearly giving him a heart attack from Lip’s omission.
Lip laughs until he starts coughing.
Asshole.
/****/****/****/
On Tuesday morning it’s Ian's turn to grab the coffee. He is very hungover, but his partner doesn’t need to know that. It was Fiona’s birthday and Kev and Carl wouldn’t let him turn in early, despite the fact that he had to work in the morning. Normal people postpone their birthday celebrations if they land on a weekday. However, Gallaghers just never seem to care. Any day of the week is perfect for a party.
Fucking Frank and Monica.
Sue is parked outside while Ian stands in line trying not to sway. Shit, he might still be drunk. He needs that coffee, badly. Also, if he had a gun he would shoot the girl in front of him who is being so fucking loud right now. Ian has a headache, he doesn’t need some girl cursing loudly on the phone at 10:00 o’clock in the morning, Jesus.
“Don’t ‘please, Sandy’ me. I swear to God Mick, I'm not fucking joking. Put that shit back!”
Ian groans internally. Too loud . This Sandy person needs to tone it the fuck down. He almost says a silent prayer when it’s finally the lady’s turn and she hangs up the phone. The guy at the counter is looking at something on the ground. Sandy snaps her fingers at him to try and get his attention. Really? Now she’s quiet?
Ian's had it. “You're pretty loud, maybe you should try yelling at him,” he rudely suggests.
Sandy angrily turns around to face him. She manages to passive aggressively size Ian up. “Says the guy with the fiery red hair.” Ian's jaw drops and his eyes open wide. “Yeah, I went there.” Sandy clicks her tongue. “Calling me loud, have you seen what’s at the top of your head?”
“Next!” the guy behind the counter finally yells, which takes the heat off Ian.
Okay, yeah, his hair is like super red in the summer, but does he really deserve all these digs? And most importantly, is Ian not supposed to be gay? What are the chances of him hearing his words from two different people in a span of two weeks?
Twice. From women. What the fuck?!
Nope. No. Ian is not doing this again. He forgoes ordering his coffee to follow Sandy out the café.
“Wait! Stop!”
Sandy turns around, frowning when she sees who’s calling her. “What, Red?”
“Okay, name’s Ian. I need to talk to you.”
“I'm gay,” Sandy quickly spits.
“Oh, thank God.” Ian chuckles in relief. God dammit, Lip promised his words were unique!
Sandy’s looking at him like he’s crazy, so Ian quickly explains. “Okay, my name is Ian Gallagher and in there, these were your first words to me.” He takes off his band to show her his wrist.
Sandy’s demeanor completely changes as she looks at him sadly. “I'm so sorry.” Her words are heavily laced with sympathy. “You didn’t say my words.” She passes him her coffee so she can pull away her band. I like me a bad ass Milkovich “Plus, like I mentioned before...”
“You're gay. So am I,” Ian interrupts.
Sandy smiles at him and she has a beautiful smile when she's not insulting people for being gingers. “I'm sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She takes her coffee back, salutes him with it, then walks away. Ian rubs a hand across his hair.
“My soulmate’s first words from yet another Milkovich. Huh.”
/****/****/****/
“I mean, isn’t that insane?!” Ian exclaims that night on the Gallagher steps where he's sharing a cigarette with Lip. “Like, what are the fucking chances?”
Lip tries really hard not to laugh but he ends up choking on smoke from holding the laugh in and Ian doesn’t help him.
He deserves it.
/****/****/****/
Lip took Mandy to some hotel — or they broke into a hotel, it wasn’t very clear — so Ian has to get the weed from a different Milkovich. This time Mandy’s brother, Iggy. They're not meeting at the Alibi, rather some cagy abandoned building deep in the Southside. He probably should have brought a beanie or a hoodie for this drug deal to cover his so called fiery red hair, but its summer and today is even hotter so fuck that.
Just as he's about to walk in, two police cars drive by, their sirens almost deafening. Ian covers his ears while Iggy immediately jumps behind a thin wall that does absolutely nothing to hide him, making the redhead roll his eyes.
“If you're trying not to be seen, you're doing a terrible job,” Ian comments while walking in.
Iggy steps out from behind the wall. “Says the guy with fiery red hair.”
“AGAIN? YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!”
Ian is done with this shit. Twice was enough. He stomps towards the Milkovich brother and gets to Iggy with two strides.
“The fuck are you doing Gallagher?” Iggy doesn’t even look scared, just shocked. “Yo, what the fuck?!” he yells when Ian grabs his left hand and pulls his band off his wrist. The homeless shelter is that way
“Ouch.” Ian winces.
“Yeah,” Iggy snaps. “My first impression to my soulmate is that I'm a fucking hobo.” The blond angrily covers his mark back up. “The fuck did you do that for?”
Ian shows his mark to yet another Milkovich. “This is getting ridiculous. I need to stay away from you guys.”
Ian is only 23. At this point his popular fiery red hair will turn grey within no time.
He pays for the weed and practically runs out of there.
/****/****/****/
“C’mon.”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Iggy Milkovich?”
“Yes.”
Ian, who had looked away to stare off into space wondering what his life has become, notices Lip has been too quiet. When he turns, Lip is dying silently in laughter. Ian tackles his brother to the carpet and sits on him. See how funny he finds this situation with 190 pounds on top of him.
/****/****/****/
A few days later, it’s 10:00PM and Ian is lying on his bed recapping the joke that has been this entire month. Three times. Three fucking times his words have come from three different Milkoviches. Three times. The universe has got to be messing with him. He went from appreciating how unique his soul mark was to hating how common his words have turned out to be. At this point, he won’t be shocked if he takes the train and some homeless guy says them to him.
Fucking ridiculous.
Ian decides to award himself for going through this fuckery. He will go to Boys town and fuck a hot stranger. He will feel so much better once he's blown his load. And if he hears his words again, he’ll just give up on this whole soulmate thing and settle for the first guy who makes his heart flutter. Whether they belong together or not.
On second thought, Ian kind of wants to fuck without putting in the effort. How awful would it be to call someone he rejected when he proposed a relationship? Ian had been sleeping with this guy, Caleb. Caleb ended up crushing on Ian and suggested they start dating. Ian, on the other hand, was very much against that idea because as a romantic at heart, he didn’t want to be attached to someone else when his soulmate came along. But after what has happened the last three weeks, Ian definitely doesn’t feel the same as he did then. Granted, he still doesn’t want to date Caleb, but he's not opposed to sex. The guy is not bad, he's safe in that Ian knows him and he's also very good looking.
Can't hurt, right?
/****/****/****/
Ian spots Caleb as soon as he shows up at the White Swallow. He is leaning on the wall outside the club smoking a cigarette, waiting for him. Ian straightens up when his former fuck buddy approaches him.
“Hey, Caleb,” Ian greets, dropping his stick and stepping on it.
Caleb doesn’t smile back. “Does this mean you changed your mind?”
“Changed my mind?”
“About dating. I don’t wanna fuck around anymore, Ian.”
Ian sighs. “That again.”
“Yes, that again.” Caleb chuckles in disbelief. “Was this a booty call?”
Ugh. Ian rolls his eyes. This was supposed to be easy. He should have known bagging a stranger would have been easier than… this. “We doing this or not Caleb?”
If Caleb was white, Ian is pretty sure he’d be turning red right now. Ian doesn’t see the punch until it’s too late.
“Fuck you, Ian! Lose my number.”
A speechless Ian is left looking after him, having not expected the violence. “What the hell?” He dabs at his lower lip and his finger comes up bloody. He has a split lip. He spits. More blood. “Great.”
Ian reaches into his pocket for another cigarette. He won’t be kissing anyone tonight, but he is still getting some after he's done smoking. He needs this, dammit!
Ian gets a feeling someone is watching him. Sure enough, when he turns to his left there is a guy there also lighting a cigarette and staring at Ian. He's a brunet, shorter than Ian, and someone he definitely would have approached tonight. But this guy probably witnessed everything that just happened, which is very embarrassing.
Ian sniffs, suddenly defensive. “It’s a bloody fucking lip, I ain’t that special.” He snaps.
The guy smirks. “Says the guy with fiery red hair.”
“I swear to God, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind!” Ian groans and throws his lighter and cigarette in frustration. The stick doesn’t go far but his lighter rolls all the way across the street.
He bends and grabs onto his knees, breathing hard. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. He can't do this anymore. He can't hear another person say his words to him. He’s going to lose it. Literally. His family is going to have to take him to a psych ward and everything. Now he’s tearing up in front of the guy who just saw him get punched. Fucking great.
“Hey.” It’s soft and quiet and instantly halts Ian's thoughts. A hand touches his back and Ian feels heat travel from that small spot to the rest of his body.
He stands up straight to look at the guy from before. The shorter man pulls his hand away as they look at each other. They stand there, not saying anything. The more Ian stares the more he notices how gorgeous this man is. And his eyes, God, his eyes. They are a beautiful blue reflecting from the streetlights. Ian's wrist starts to feel hot, and his heartbeat accelerates. His hands are shaking. His stomach is in knots. What is happening?
“Hi,” he replies, breathless.
The brunet raises his left hand and pulls back his band. “I'm Mickey.” Ian's breath catches when he sees Mickey's soul mark.
It’s a bloody fucking lip, I ain’t that special
It can't be. Holy fucking shit.
Ian clears his throat. “I'm Ian. Ian Gallagher.” He kind of wants to hug Mickey and never let him go.
“Milkovich.”
“What?!”
“What?” Mickey asks with a frown, taken aback by the shocked look on Ian's face.
“You're a Milkovich?” Ian can't help it, he just starts laughing hysterically. “I'm so—” Laughter. “So sor—” More laughter.
Mickey sneers at Ian. "Fuck off." and starts walking away.
That’s enough to get Ian to stop laughing. “I'm sorry, please don’t go.” Ian quickly grabs Mickey's hand. His fingers touch his soulmate’s wrist, and he swears he gets shocked. But he doesn’t pull away, instead he welcomes that electric connection. Mickey bites his bottom lip, staring at where their hands are connected with wide anime eyes. Clearly, he just felt the same thing Ian did. “Don’t go,” Ian pleads.
The redhead steps closer to Mickey until they're standing chest to chest. He raises his hand and pushes a stray hair off his soulmate’s forehead. “Don’t be mad, Mick,” he starts softly, quietly. He cups Mickey's cheek and the latter leans into the touch. Nothing exists right now. Not the noisy club, not the cars in the street, not the drunkards going in and out of the White Swallow. It’s just Ian and Mickey. “I can explain.”
“Okay,” Mickey replies, glancing at Ian's lips before looking back into Ian's eyes.
The redhead holds Mickey's head with both hands where it fits perfectly, and pulls him close, their lips meeting in perfect unison. Goosebumps erupt over his skin and he tries and fails to suppresses a full body shiver
The explanation can wait.
THE ENDX