Work Text:
“I like to see everything in neon”
Mickey has always seen things in black and white. From fights with his brothers, to drama with people in the neighborhood, Mickey always views it in black and white. He judges based on facts, never accounting for emotions or other stupid, fictional shit like that.
“Drink lime green, stay up ‘til dawn”
Mickey has always been a night-owl. Maybe it’s because late hours into the night are the only time he can be free. Maybe he thinks best in darkness. Maybe darkness prevents him from thinking at all. Late nights at the dugouts with beer, cigarettes, and the red-headed Gallagher kid have become a key part of his life.
”Maybe the way that I’m living is killing me”
Mickey has no doubt that his life could be better. But he also knows it could be worse. How, exactly, he’s not sure. He guesses that he could have two useless, piece-of-shit parents instead of one. He could’ve been locked up for longer, but that would be positive for him. He’s sure there aren’t many other kids that actually enjoy being in Juvie more than their own home. He’s just not fortunate enough to be one of them. The only thing he actually misses from home when he’s locked up is that fire-haired Gallagher boy.
“But one day I woke up like ‘Maybe I’ll do it differently’”
Mickey has tall, strong, barbed-wire walls around everything he stands for. His family life, what he believes in, what he’s thinking, how he fucking feels, it’s all locked away, never to be seen, touched, or heard of by anyone. Well, almost anyone. That one redhead that’s batshit crazy and packin’ nine-inches seems to break down the walls often. He knows all of Mickey’s tricks for shutting people out. He’s been pushed out multiple times, too. But recently, the walls have been getting shorter. Weaker. Without barbed-wire. His walls are becoming non-existent. He’s learning to rely on Ian the way a lover would, instead of the way a distant friend would. He’s learning to talk about how he was raised and what he thinks or feels about something. Without pushing away. Just giving.
”Fuck it, I love you”
Ian is a lover-boy. He’s the sun, the ginger-cat, the yellow. It was always easy for him to show love in conventional ways. Whether it was actually saying “I love you,” doing things for Mickey, or even just looking at Mickey a certain way, he would. Mickey is quite the opposite. But, opposites attract, right? Mickey has always had to hide his love, especially with his father and the neighborhood he lives in. He gets caught showing public affection to another guy, he might as well just shoot himself and save Terry the effort. However, that’s not how he wants to live. He wants to show public affections and conventional love displays. The first time he told Ian he loved him, it was following “Fuck it,” as he was forgetting all the things that could happen if he said it. He decided that just saying it, making sure Ian knows it, was more important. Ian knowing Mickey’s love for him is more important than whatever torture Terry comes up with. Because Mickey loves Ian that much. He would risk his life a million times over if it meant Ian knew even an ounce of how much Mickey loves him. Mickey knows that he knows. But he’s worth it. Ian is always worth it.