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Mickey was acting weird, weirder than normal, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ian.
He watched him get flustered by every little thing and flit about the place like he couldn’t remember where he was going or what he was doing. If Ian didn’t find it completely adorable he might have pulled him over sooner, but Mickey’s red cheeks and his hair hanging down over his brow was a wonderful sight.
Ian sat on the couch, flicking through channels just trying to find anything half decent to watch when Mickey came and sat down next to him. He looked up and smiled before turning back to the TV and Mickey cleared his throat a little.
“I uh, I got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about,” he said awkwardly.
“So go on, I’m listening,” Ian said, eyes still on the screen.
“Can you turn that thing off for a sec?” he said.
“I can listen to you and watch this it’s not big ― hey!” he shouted as Mickey snatched the remote from his hands and turned the TV off, throwing the remote over to the armchair. “Was that really necessary?”
“Can you shut the fuck up for a minute?” Mickey said and Ian rolled his eyes a little.
“Okay, you have my full attention, what is it?” he asked.
Mickey exhaled heavily, and Ian knew he had a stupid smile on his face because Mickey just looked so nervous.
“I wanna… I mean I know this kinda crap is important to you, so I want―” he started, getting cut off by Debbie as she walked down the stairs.
“Hey have either of you seen my sneakers? I swear I left them in my room but I can’t find them,” she said. “I need them for training.”
Mickey grumbled and gave her a glare but Ian just shrugged.
“Haven’t seen ‘em Debs,” he said. “You tried the back yard?”
“Yeah I’ll do that now, thanks,” she said, wandering out through the kitchen.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ian asked.
“I was just trying to say that I don’t… I mean you give a shit about a lot of things that never fuckin’ meant anything to me, and I don’t fucking get it, well I didn’t get it, not really… not until―” he was cut off again when the door burst open and Liam came running in, calling out Ian’s name over and over and climbing over the side of the couch to get to him.
“Ian! Ian! Ian!” he squealed and Ian just laughed as he lifted him up and gave him a squeeze.
“Hey little guy!” he grinned and this time Mickey’s grumbling and groaning was audible and Ian gave him a look.
“Hey!” Fiona said from the doorway. “Don’t mind him he’s had way too much sugar. Come on, let your brother get back to… not watching TV? Jesus, take it upstairs maybe…”
“We weren’t…” Ian shook his head a little. “We’re just talking.”
“Fucking trying to…” Mickey mumbled as Fiona made her way into the kitchen, tapping Liam on the shoulder as she did.
Ian kissed him on the head before letting him go and he ran off after Fiona.
“Alright go on,” he said.
“I’m trying to fucking say that you and me… we’ve been through some shit and―” he stopped when Liam ran in and threw himself over Mickey’s knees, giggling like mad.
Mickey raised an eyebrow and Ian just laughed.
“What’s he doing?” Mickey asked.
“Being a kid, I don’t know,” he replied.
“Liam!” Fiona called and he let out a giant sigh.
“Okay,” he said, following her voice to the kitchen and dragging his arms behind him.
“Kids are fucking weird,” Mickey said. “Can we go outside or something, it’s like a fucking clown car in this place.”
Ian nodded and the two got up to head out to the backyard, passing Debbie who was holding up her shoes with a smile.
There were still a couple of lawn chairs set up on the grass that they sat down in and Ian just gave him a warm smile, kicking Mickey’s foot lightly.
“Is that better now?” he asked.
“You think it’s funny?” Mickey asked.
“Oh come on, wait what’s going on?” Ian said with worry lacing his voice.
“Am I allowed to wanna say something to you and not the whole fucking Brady Bunch?”
“Alright, so what do you want to say?”
“That I fucking love you and I don’t wanna fucking lose you!” he said and Ian was a little taken aback.
“I love you too,” he said quietly. “What does that have to do with―”
“I don’t wanna lose you,” he repeated. “And I don’t get why you had to make a big fucking deal when I got hitched but I don’t know, maybe I know what you were talkin’ about now.”
“Are you saying what I think you are?”
“I’m sayin’ I don’t wanna lose you but I ain’t good at this,” he said, looking up and into Ian’s eyes. “I don’t do big fucking gestures―”
“Oh yeah, doesn’t do big gestures,” Kev said as he came through the back with a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Coming from the dude who came out to a whole bunch of drunk assholes and trashed my bar.”
Mickey looked like he was about to snap as he turned slowly to Kev.
“Do you fucking mind?” he snapped.
“Well excuse me, am I interrupting a tea party or something?” he said.
“Actually I think you were interrupting a proposal,” Ian said quietly just as Fiona and Debbie came to the door to meet Kev.
“You what?” Fiona said and Debbie was just looking from one to another with wide eyes.
“Jesus, can't anyone get a little privacy around here?” Mickey yelled, standing up and throwing his hands in the air.
The three of them on the porch seemed to look a little sheepish and Fiona waved Kev inside, shooting Ian a little smile before dragging Debbie along with them.
“That was what you were doing, right?” Ian asked, looking back at Mickey. “I mean I don’t want to assume anything but, that is what you were doing?”
He sighed.
“Maybe…”
Ian’s lips pulled even tighter as the smile spread over his face.
“All of that, ‘I don’t wanna lose you’, ‘I didn’t understand it’, ‘I love you’,” he said, the cockiness creeping onto his features. “That was all your way of asking me to marry you?”
Mickey narrowed his eyes at him. “Well I don’t have a fucking ring.”
“Why not?”
“Because I ain’t getting’ down on one knee.”
“Well what kind of proposal is this?”
“It’s the fucking good and bad, sickness and health kind of bullshit that you always fucking wanted! Is that okay? That enough for you or you want a ring on your fat fucking―”
Ian silenced Mickey’s nervous ranting with his lips, lunging in and catching them with his own, hands cupping the sides of his face.
His lips parted and Mickey’s along in time, a pattern that they’d long since perfected. Mickey closed his eyes and reached around to pull Ian’s hips into him. His fingers slid gently across the thin material on his back and dipped under it until they were caressing his skin and Ian’s fingers were moving into his hair.
He tightened his grip a little, pulling Mickey back and making him let out an annoyed grunt.
“That was a yes, in case you were wondering,” he said. “And my fingers aren’t fat so you can quit being lazy and go steal us a set of rings.”
Mickey huffed out noisily but smiled. “Oh that was your yes, huh?”
“What, not good enough for you?” Ian asked.
“Wanna go to my place? Probably less people to invade our fucking privacy,” Mickey grinned.
“Let’s go,” he said and they disentangled themselves from one another, at least until they made it to the Milkovich house.