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Mickey was asleep when his alarm went off for the third time that morning. The annoying tune he set up was becoming louder and louder and his brain finally caught up with what was going on; he opened one eye and grabbed his phone to check the time, cursing under his breath.
9.46 am. “Fuck “ he thought instantly “Fuck fuck fuck !“
He quickly put his glasses on and tried to locate where he had thrown away his jeans the previous night and he almost tripped getting them on. He cursed loudly when his toe hit the side of his bedside table and hissed in pain before grabbing a shirt and going to the bathroom.
He splashed some water on his face, brushed his teeth and even tried to style his hair to look a minimum decent. When he finally gave up, he grabbed his bag pack and left his apartment, regretting the amount of weed he smoked before going to bed; Mandy’s dealer was not kidding, his shit was pretty strong even for Mickey. Once in his elevator, he sighed at the mirror in front of him; he had bags under his eyes, his face was swollen from sleep and he had the sheets printed on the right side of his face.
The thing was, Mickey wasn’t really late; he had no appointment, no plans with his brother Iggy, no class until 1pm. No, he was freaking out because Ian’s shift ended at 10.30 and if he didn’t hurry, he was going to miss him.
Ian worked at a coffee shop called Seni’s place from 6 am to 10.30 am on Mondays, Thursday and Fridays, and from 2pm to 6pm on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. It wasn’t weird at all to know that, Mickey thought; they became friends over the past few months, even if Mickey wasn’t really the friendly type.
There was something about Ian though that made Mickey addicted to his presence.
Mickey would never forget the first time he saw him; it was on a freezing December’s morning and Mickey dragged himself to the coffee shop because his sister had broke the pot of coffee during her last visit. He hadn’t replaced it yet, mostly because he expected her to do it. She didn't.
Since he was completely incapable of facing the day without his morning coffee, he stopped by the coffee shop before going to class. Ian was there, wearing a white shirt and tight jeans, the apron of the shop around his waist; he was laughing with one of his coworkers and seemed totally engrossed by the upcoming holidays, Mickey could tell.
When the other barista left for the kitchen, Ian began gently swaying behind the counter by himself, pretending to hold someone and humming the Christmas’s tune coming from the radio. His red hair was curly and short, and Mickey wondered how it would feel like to pass his hands through the curls, pulling on them just a little.
Everything about Ian was distracting; his smile was beautiful, his laughter was ridiculous, and he had a body so perfect Mickey could cry just from looking at him. He was tall, taller than Mickey and he was definitely working out but he wasn’t showing off, something that Mickey really appreciated.
He quickly realized that he wasn’t the only one admiring Ian; there was a big line in front of the counter but Ian was still dancing, filling a cup here and there, handing a muffin to a smitten teenager and the customers were just smiling at him, like he was adorable. Ian had apparently bewitched every single one of them.
From that day, Mickey went to have his coffee every morning so he could see Ian again. Back then, when he didn’t know his schedule, he always felt frustrated to show up and realize that Ian wasn’t working; he usually grumbled his order to the poor barista in front of him and left without a word.
When Ian was working though, Mickey always settled on one of the comfy chairs and sipped on his coffee, watching Ian interact with his costumers, blue eyes catching every grin, every habit Ian apparently had.
Days became weeks, weeks became months and by now they were what you would call friends. Ian knew how Mickey drank his coffee (Black with too much sugar in the morning, milk and caramel syrup in the afternoon) and that he had a serious problem with banana pancakes.
He knew Mickey was studying physics and that he had a sister called Mandy who lived in LA. Mickey liked to open up to Ian because he seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say, something that Mickey wasn't really used to.
The great thing about Ian was that he didn't need to be told twice to rant. Mickey knew Ian wanted to be a journalist and that he had a tattoo on his ribs representing an eagle and a rifle. He knew Ian had five siblings and that he lived with his brother Lip. Every time Mickey would learn something about Ian, he felt strangely closer to him; usually Mickey didn’t care for other people’s story but Ian was different.
To Mickey, he was the most interesting person and “friends” quickly became not enough because Ian was everything Mickey could think about.
That’s why he was running down the street to get to the coffee shop before Ian’s shift ended: he needed his daily fix.
…
Ian was nervously tapping his fingers on the counter, staring at the clock intensely; it was 10.08 am and his shift was about to end. Okay, not really though because Ian’s shift ended at 10 am. Since Mickey and him started talking and the other man showed up now every morning, Ian took the habit to stay a little bit longer just in case Mickey was late.
Ian didn’t want Mickey to know that, he was pretty sure he would laugh at him or something but their little encounters had become a thing for him; his day couldn’t just start properly if he didn’t have the chance to talk to Mickey, sometimes just a few minutes before hanging on his apron and going to class.
The days he worked afternoons, the thought of seeing Mickey later was enough to make him feel happy and light, and Mickey was always there when Ian showed up at the place, a coffee in front of him and a wide smile on his face.
Ian desperately wanted to move things forward but he just couldn’t find the strength to do it; he knew Mickey was gay, it had been mentioned casually in a conversation one day. But what if Mickey refused? What if he wasn’t interested and things got weird? Would he stop coming? Or worse, what if he had a boyfriend?
They both knew they were avoiding that specific topic as if they were afraid to learn something that would burst their little bubble. The facts were these: Mickey never had a boyfriend and Ian did, he was actually in relationship when he met Mickey.
Ian was brought back to reality when the doorbell chimed and Mickey entered the coffee shop with messy hair and his usual grumpy face. Much to Ian’s surprise, Mickey was wearing his glasses and it did something to him; he didn’t wear them very often, but every time he did, Ian’s words got stuck in his throat and he could only stare, taking in how beautiful Mickey was.
When their eyes finally met, Mickey’s broody face disappeared in seconds and instead he offered his brightest smile to Ian, who felt a little flustered, like always.
“Gonna do your job and make my god damn coffee or what?” Mickey said with a smile.
“Always so charming, Mick” Ian replied with a snort. He turned back to the coffee machine and got Mickey’s coffee ready, then he went to the kitchen to grab the last blueberry muffin he saved earlier. He went back and watched Mickey looking through the pastries, obviously annoyed.
“Man, don’t tell me there’s no-“ he began but before he could finish, Ian put the muffin and the coffee on the counter and leaned down against it, watching him with a satisfied smile. Mickey looked down at his breakfast then at Ian, and shrugged, before planting his teeth in his muffin.
“You want a medal, Gallagher?” he said, bits of his muffin flying on the counter.
Ian just smiled and watched Mickey walking towards his designated seat, not far from the counter so he could always be in Ian’s vision. After a moment, Mickey glanced up at Ian who was busy with a customer and shook his head slightly, a smile tugged at his lips.
10.24 am. Just six more minutes before Ian was free.
…
Mickey was anxiously walking toward the coffee shop with a cigarette half consumed between his lips. He spent the entire day repeating to himself that it was a good idea, that Ian would never say no.
Mickey bought two tickets 2 weeks prior for a baseball game and today he was finally going to ask Ian out; he knew he should have asked Ian days ago, give him time to answer or something but the thought of the other man saying no was upsetting.
He finally entered the coffee shop and instantly spotted Ian, his red hair giving him away so easily. He went in line and waited until he was in front of the counter, smiling at Ian like an idiot. When Ian greeted though, Mickey’s smile quickly faltered at Ian’s annoyed face.
“You okay, Gallagher?” Mickey asked.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.”
He placed Mickey’s coffee and his pancakes on the counter and went into the kitchen without a word, leaving Mickey dumbfounded. Mickey went to his spot and drank his coffee slowly as he watched Ian working from afar; he was acting weird, working in a robot mode with a frown not leaving his face and Mickey was dying to know the reason why.
Mickey followed Ian’s gaze and caught him multiple times watching a guy sitting across the room. Mickey couldn’t see his face, only his back and it was even more frustrating.
An hour passed and Ian’s shift finally ended; Mickey expected Ian to come and sit with him for a while, like he always do but instead Ian came up to him to say goodbye.
“There’s something I gotta do, I’ll see tomorrow Mick.”
Mickey nodded but didn’t say a word and watched Ian leave with the guy; he was pretty hot, Mickey had to admit but there was something about him that he didn’t like instantly.
Mickey finally grabbed his bag and got out of the coffee shop and threw away the two tickets as if they burned his hands; maybe he was being dramatic but he had a feeling Ian and this guy were a thing. He knew it was stupid to jump to conclusions so easily but for some reason he got convinced that Ian was too good for him.
His self-esteem was so low that watching Ian leaving with the guy crushed the tiny hope he was holding onto for weeks. You’re a stupid fuck , he thought. He turned around and retrieved the tickets from the trash, thinking that it was stupid to let them go to waste when Iggy would probably take them without hesitation.
…
When Ian got home that night with a big box full of the things he left at Sam’s place, he was exhausted; even if he broke up with his boyfriend a couple months ago, he never got the chance to go and grab his stuff.
Sam didn’t really make any effort to make things go down smoothly and it was a nightmare each time Ian and him had to interact. But now they were finally done and Ian sighed in relief, happy to be free at last.
His thoughts quickly drifted to Mickey, his sad expression when Ian said he had to leave; Mickey put a straight face in a matter of seconds but Ian had the chance to catch the disappointment lying there. He went to bed that night with the firm intention to make it up to the other man, he just needed to figure out how.
...
When Mickey didn’t show up the next day, Ian realized it never happened before. He didn’t have Mickey’s number, never needed it and so he spent his shift waiting for Mickey but he never came. He finally left for class feeling a little bumped and walked the streets absentmindedly until a couple caught his eyes.
Mickey was in front a diner, hugging tightly a guy with blond hair. Ian stopped immediately and watched them for a moment, until they broke apart and went into the restaurant, the other man’s arm secured tightly around Mickey’s shoulder.
Ian lost track of the time as he watched them through the glass window of the diner, smiling at each other and laughing. Ian sighed at the sight and replaced the strip of his bag pack on his shoulder before walking away; apparently he had missed his chance with Mickey.
…
Mickey showed up everyday after that and they carried on their little routine but something was off; after Ian’s shift, they only talked for a minute or two and Mickey arrived always late in the mornings. There was no more flirting, no more bad puns and lame jocks; the conversations were flat and casual and Ian didn’t like it at all.
The situation was driving Mickey crazy as well but he still showed up because Ian (presumably) being with someone didn’t change the fact that Mickey needed to be in his presence. Iggy was over the moon when Mickey gave him the tickets and he was glad to make his brother happy but he couldn’t help but feel bitter at the missed opportunity.
He wondered if the change in the atmosphere between them was in his head or if Ian caught that too but he needed to do something, say something. He needed to know if the guy was indeed Ian’s boyfriend or if Mickey just made a big deal out of it.
At the end of his shift, Ian came to Mickey and plopped onto the chair next to him; Ian loved being close to him, take in his scent even if it sounded creepy. He watched Mickey fiddle with his hands, cracking his knuckles and smile at Mickey's obvious discomfort.
Mickey glanced up at him and offered a small smile before rubbing his lower lip; Ian followed his thumb as it brushed on his lip and he wished he could be the one doing it. His eyes didn’t leave Mickey’s mouth until he heard the grunt from Mickey.
“The fuck you’re looking at?” Mickey said without animosity.
Ian knew he was blushing a little but looked at him with a shy smile and shrugged as if he hadn’t been caught staring. Mickey cleared his throat and brought his coffee to his lips, looking straight ahead of him.
“I was wondering… hum. The guy you left with the other day, is he… You seemed closed.”
Ian didn’t reply right away, he wondered who was the guy Mickey mentioned; before he could say anything, Mickey shrugged the question with his hand.
“Never mind, none of my business anyway.”
Mickey shifted in his seat, still not looking at Ian and turned around to grab his jacket, ready to leave.
“Ex-boyfriend.” Ian said then.
Mickey turned around at last and his demeanor changed at the words.
“What about you?” Ian asked hesitantly.
Mickey shook his head and bumped his shoulder playfully with Ian’s, a smile spreading on his face. They stared at each other, Mickey smiling against his will and biting his finger with the “U” tattoo and Ian watching him, his legs bouncing under the table. Do it, do it, do it.
“Maybe we could do something sometimes. I mean get together, just not here, you know.” Mickey said nervously.
Ian felt his insides twist at that and nodded furiously; he didn’t know what made him do it but he leant forward and pressed a small peck at the corner of Mickey’s mouth, their lips brushing slightly in the process.
Mickey froze for a second and stared at Ian bewildered. Ian’s expression was soft but his eyes were hesitant; their faces were still inches apart and Ian wanted to give Mickey some space but then Mickey cradled Ian’s neck and pressed his lips firmly against his, his fingers gently brushing his neck. Ian placed his hand on Mickey’s knee and squeezed a little, so happy to finally taste those lips.
Mickey broke the kiss and straightened a little, watching around if someone caught them but no one noticed them. His attention was brought back to Ian who was now standing, zipping his leather jacket.
“I gotta go to class, see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there” Mickey said, beaming with pleasure.
Ian left the coffee shop and Mickey watched him go until he disappeared among the people on the streets. He finished his coffee and grabbed his stuff, happy and excited when someone grabbed his forearm and made him turn around.
He was ready to throw a punch on instinct when he realized it was Ian; Ian crashed his lips on his, opening his mouth a little to let Mickey know he wanted to kiss him properly this time. Mickey knew people were watching but he didn’t care; the first kiss was innocent, sweet and chaste.
The way Ian was kissing him right now was passionate and hungry, tongues sliding against each other, teeth scraping lips. Mickey melted under Ian’s touch, his hands roamed against Ian’s arms through the fabric of his jacket. Ian finally detached their lips but kept his hands on Mickey’s hips, keeping their bodies close.
“It’s a date.” Ian said smugly, his breathing still shaky.