Chapter Text
"Mick!" Ian shouted, walking from the bedroom to the living room.
"Ian!" The boy mirrored, emerging from the kitchen. "What's up?"
"How do you feel about kids?"
"Gallagher!" He warned. "We've been dating less than a year. I'm not up for starting a family with interracial babies and fucking dogs in fucking sweaters."
Ian laughed and approached his tense boyfriend. "I'm not asking you to adopt anyone with me."
"What then?"
"Debs needs a break and asked if we'd look after the twins."
Debbie had become pregnant on the day of Mickey's graduation and broke the stereotype of teenage mother, raising the children without needing the asshole boyfriend that left her when he found out he was going to be a father. The babies were slightly premature meaning they needed a great deal of care, something that had drained the girl and left her in need of some relaxation.
Mickey groaned. "How long for?"
"At least five days." Ian said tentatively.
He groaned again. "Why can't Fiona deal with it?"
"Debs just needs them out the house."
"I get it. You can't say no to family. If Mandy had asked I'd say yes."
"So we're okay to take them?"
"Five days?"
"Five days." He confirmed.
"Fuck it. Let's do it. What about work?"
"I was thinking I'd just fake I'll for a week."
"Remember the last time you pretended to be sick to take the day off?"
"It was a good enough reason and worth actually being sick. Gotta keep my boyfriend happy, right?" He closed the gap and snaked his arms around Mickey's waist.
"Yeah." Mickey's arms found the redhead's shoulders. "You're pretty good at it."
"So are kids always off limits?" Ian whispered, trying to break it in softly.
"Too early to talk about this. I want to get as much as I can with you before you leave me."
"Why would I leave you?" Ian grew concerned, pulling back to make eye contact.
"You practically scream 'dad' and I never want kids. And I'm not only saying that because I'm still a teenager. I've never wanted them. I don't want to be like my father."
"You wouldn't be him, Mick. We both know that. And I'd still be with you if you didn't want kids. I probably wouldn't love the kid as much as I love you anyway and I'd be a shit dad."
"Sorry." Mickey buried his head in Ian's shoulder. "I don't want to make you compromise just to be with me."
"I don't care about kids enough to break up with you. Promise."
"This conversation is too serious for now."
"I know." The redhead chuckled. "I'll call her and say yes."
"You gotta make it up to me, Gallagher."
"Oh yeah? What do you want? Another strip tease? 69? Hard and fast?"
"All of the above."
"That can be arranged." Their lips joined and there was a messy mix of tongues, lips and teeth.
"Not right now. You gotta go to work."
"Tonight. We're going to fuck for about six hours."
"Think my ass might need a rest, Firecrotch."
"Then I'll just have to overwork your dick." He gave a last quick peck before pulling away and walking towards the door. "I love you!" He shouted as he opened the door.
"I love you, too." Mickey returned before he heard the door snap shut. The thoughts whizzing around Mickey's head were 83% negative. He loved Ian and Ian loved him; that wasn't a problem. But Ian wanted kids and Mickey hated the small, noisy, messy things. Ian would be a great father but Mickey would be a shit dad. Ian could do better than Mickey. "I'm a fucking idiot." He mumbled to himself, unsure whether he thought himself an idiot because he thought Ian wouldn't want him or because he thought he was good enough for Ian in the first place. "Fucking idiot." He repeated before leaving for work himself.
---
"We need to talk." The younger man said as his redhead walked through the door that night.
"That sounds serious. You better not be breaking up with me." He laughed, confident that that wasn't the reason for the tension obvious in his boyfriend's shoulders. Mickey looked to the floor with a slight blush, not responding. "You're break up with me?" Tears filled the redhead's eyes but he refused to let them fall. "Why? What the fuck did I do?"
"Everything." He paused. "You do everything you have to to keep me happy."
"How is that a bad thing? I just want you to be happy."
"You shouldn't be trying to please me when I can't help you. You can do better, Gallagher. You should do better. So I'm leaving you for your sake."
"Mick, I love my life. I love you. I wouldn't change a thing."
"You don't see it like I do. I see a gorgeous man who's amazing and perfect in every way possible that I really don't deserve because I do nothing for you. I'm now doing something for you. It kills me to know this is what that has to be but it's true."
"Mick, you do everything for me. You looked after me when I was sick and depressed and make me dinner and curl up with me every night and all the little things like laughing at my lame jokes and that's why I love you. Why I need you."
"You can find some other guy for that. Someone who does all those things and more. Someone who's hotter and has more money and your sister likes and isn't just some short, worthless ex-thug. You need to let go of me."
"No, Mick. I'll always want you and need you and love you. You're the best thing for me."
"Sorry." Mickey wiped a year from his eye and he headed for the door. "I'll be back for my stuff tomorrow and I'll leave my key."
"Don't."
"I've got to."
"Where are you going?"
"Home. Dads not there. I'll be safe."
"Mick-"
"Bye, Gallagher." He left and shut the door behind him.
Ian rubbed his palms against his eyes, trying to stop the tears flowing before giving in and letting the waterfall run down his face. He just lost the best thing in his life. He legs collapsed underneath him and he fell onto the couch, mentally willing himself to not get depressed. It took about three minutes, determination to the brim, to get up and decide to go after his boyfriend. The storm inside him wouldn't settle and he needed his life raft back.
-
On the other side of the door, Mickey was slumped against the wall next to the door of his (soon to be ex-) apartment. Tears streaming down his face, he didn't care who saw. Thugs don't cry, right? Maybe he really wasn't a thug anymore. Ian was what he needed. Ian made him a better person. Ian was the love of his life. That's why he had to remind himself that this was best for Ian. The door flew open and Mickey looked up and made eye contact with his (ex-)boyfriend's red, watery eyes.
"I need you back, Mick."
"Leave me alone, Ian. It's for your own good."
"Don't be and idiot." He leaned against the wall and slid down to sit next to the younger man. "You're an amazing person. You're brave and smart and strong and funny and cute and domestic and cuddly and just so damn amazing. You need to believe that. You're the best thing for me and always will be. You're better than any of my exs and they were the rich guys you talked about and see how that worked out for me. You are what I want. You are the type of guy I need. I need you to understand that. It's been nearly a year, Mick. Why would I wait this long to break up with you if I thought you weren't good enough?"
The question was rhetorical because Mickey couldn't answer. Too many tears were running down his face for him to remember how to breathe. "So just come back Inside with me. It's your home, Mick. And it wouldn't be my home without you there with me; without your furnace in my bed; your Poptarts in my cupboard. Just come back inside." He stood up and reached his hand down towards his boyfriend.
After a few minutes of deliberation, Mickey took it.