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Mickey wasn’t ever expecting to see him again. Not after Mickey’s farce of a wedding to a Russian hooker, after Mickey told him to leave and never come back. Mickey was scared, he knows that intimately now just how scared he was about how he felt about Ian but even now he wishes he ran away with him when he asked. At least they would’ve had each other. Ian was the first home that Mickey knew so it’s no surprise that Mickey, in a brilliant show of self-destruction, broke Ian’s heart and made him cry.
It haunts him to this day. The desperate look in Ian’s eyes, the way his bigger hand rested on the ‘Gallagher’ tattoo on Mickey’s chest as he pleaded with him to choose him. Mickey knows that no one has ever put Ian first, not Fiona, not Lip, definitely not Frank and Mickey was meant to be different. He just proved that he was exactly the same. Still, he never expected to see Ian again.
The boy got into West Point and disappeared barely six months after the wedding. Mickey hasn’t seen him for eleven years. He doesn’t know what happened to him, isn’t aware of any of the same intimacies they had before and it aches something fierce somewhere that has been hidden behind his stomach since their last kiss. Their goodbye kiss. God, if Mickey knew that was the last time they would kiss then he never would’ve let go.
Ian looks good. He’s taller, broader - practically an immense wall of muscle - and is standing confidently at the side of the funeral service looking unruffled. None of the other Gallaghers seem to have made the venture to Terry Milkovich’s funeral so Mickey has a moment of inordinate hope that Ian has come here for him. That is until Mandy slinks up beside him and Ian instantly moves to bring her into his side like they’ve been doing it for years. He should’ve known that those two would still be friends even after all these years, Ian was the only one who really took care of her where even Mickey couldn’t. She needed a soft hand, someone who would love her without conditions and without complaint, Ian was that person for both of them.
Ian is smiling that smile at her too. The one that Mickey fell in love with all those years ago. The gentle one with the dimples. God, he’s always been the most beautiful man Mickey has ever seen. The suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored to him and it makes Mickey’s mouth dry even as the man shifts to comfort his sister with such ease. Mickey wants to be the one accepting that comfort. He wants to bury himself in the crook of Ian’s neck, breath the scent of mint and soap deep, tell himself that he’s finally home and that he can rest.
Mandy does so when the service starts. Tucking herself practically inside Ian’s suit jacket as the man strokes over her hair and down her back. Mickey isn’t sure what he feels about his father’s death, he supposes that he should be sad but he just feels empty. Mandy has always been the more emotional one of all the Milkovich’s and was punished brutally for it. Their father hated her and made sure she knew it. Mickey doesn’t pay much attention to the words that people are saying about the man that made his life a living hell, he just waits impatiently for it all to be over so he can get black out drunk and smoke a pack of cigarettes until he manages to catch some sleep in his studio apartment. He’s been a mechanic at the same shop for a fucking decade, barely even stealing shit anymore and he hates the boring life that he’s brought himself to. Hates that he’s jealous of his little sister.
Eventually, Mandy finds him. The wake is much rowdier than expected though Mickey thinks most of the people are celebrating the death - Mickey thinks he may be one of them - rather than mourning it. Still, Mandy is much softer than she ever was living in Southside. She wears very little makeup now and expensive looking jewellery, her hair looks well taken care of as do her nails. She looks like she’s spent the last decade living well. He’s both glad for her and viciously envious.
“Hey Mick,” Mandy greets and even her voice sounds different now. He imagines that she’s no longer necking vodka and smoking cigarettes until her throat is sore in an effort to ease her thoughts. No, this is a woman who has been well taken care of and he wants that for himself. Mickey just grunts in response, he’s not sure he can even form words anymore, not sure if he wants to. “You look awful.” Mickey snorts and looks at his sweet sister that was taken advantage of so many times.
“You don’t.” Mandy smiles brightly.
“No, I don’t. I-I um… listen, I want you to hear this from me before someone else tells you. Ian and I got married.” Mickey’s brain genuinely shorts out for a minute. Ian has always been gay. Not swing both ways or anything, completely and utterly gay. “Not like that!” Mandy yelps and Mickey’s thought process calms immediately. “When he left for West Point we spoke every day, I sent him letters and called him, video calls too. He found out that someone was hurting me, that I wasn’t safe or healthy or happy but I wouldn’t accept his help. He came back from his first tour, nineteen and scraped up but alive. He found me in San Francisco and he told me that he’d marry me. I would live in the housing they give us, use the health insurance to get better, use his money to live off of while he’s abroad - they already thought the two of us were together considering how much we talked and neither of us had any interest in being with anyone else so I agreed. He’s been taking care of me for a decade.”
The jealousy spikes again. That could’ve been him. He could’ve lived with Ian waiting for his soldier to come back from war. He could have been warm and safe, well fed and well kept but instead he tossed it all away because he was scared. Fear never gets you anywhere, he knew that before but still made the decision anyway. He still hasn’t figured out whether he was more scared for Ian or himself. “Mickey, listen to me, now.” Mickey snaps out of his self loathing and focuses on his sister, “I said that neither of us had any interest in being with anyone else but that’s not entirely true, is it? He wanted you - hell, still wants you. He told me that it would be the best choice for everyone because he couldn’t love anyone else but you and I would need time to recover from… well, everything.” Mickey’s heart is racing, running double and making his eyesight blurry. Ian didn’t want anyone else but him? Was so intent on that that he married his little sister to keep her safe? “I want you to come to New York. That’s where we live now, if that wasn’t clear, and I want you to talk to him. Whether it be for closure so he can finally move on or so you can get back together, I don’t care. But you come to New York sometime this year and do something.”
“Why not now? Where is he?” Mickey sits up urgently. He searches every corner of the bar but doesn’t spot the bright shock of red hair or the pale skin and freckles.
“He’s at the Gallagher house, we’re flying out in the morning. He hates it here and it’s been difficult with his family for a while now so we try to bug out as soon as possible.”
“Why is it bad? Those lot may be dysfunctional but they do love each other.” Mandy winces and twirls her bracelet around her wrist a few times.
“Well, it started when he and I got married. It meant he was getting paid more, right? They get their pay and then an extra allowance for their wives and/or children so Ian was giving like seventy percent to me, twenty percent into savings then he was giving the rest to his family. They didn’t find out for like two years that I was getting all this money to do whatever I wanted with and when they did… they hit the fucking roof, Mick. I’ve never seen Lip and Fiona so mad. We went there for Christmas after Ian’s second tour and I think one of us slipped up but they hit the roof. If you haven’t kept up with them then you know that most of them are not doing well. Lip has a kid he can’t afford, so does Debbie. Fiona had to file for bankruptcy because she failed this apartment complex idea. To be fair, Carl is doing great, Ian got him into the police when he got to eighteen and Carl took Liam with him as soon as he had his own place. Anyway, I’m getting off track. They demanded he give them the larger share because I was one person and had no reason to have that much money since we didn’t have children and that I wasn’t really his wife. Ian went off. I know that Ian has a temper but he has always, always been slow to ignite,”
She’s not wrong. Ian has always had a fire burning low in his stomach, Mickey remembers tasting it those first few times when the redhead intended on bashing his head in with a tire iron. Still, Ian has always been slow to attack. He’s patient, calm but once he’s off he’s dangerous. Mickey always found it very attractive.
“He shouted for like ten entire minutes about how he was already giving them almost seven grand a year and that it wasn’t his fault that they chose to do nothing with that money. When they started in on me demanding to know what I was spending all the money on, Ian punched Lip in the face and told him to fuck off. We’ve barely seen them since and that was like six years ago, I think when Ian got his first promotion. We try to keep the visits brief because Ian comes back home devastated.” Mandy’s phone chirps and she pulls out the newest smartphone that she taps at with her perfectly manicured nails. “Ian’s sent a car to pick me up, I have to go. Here’s our address and my phone number, you’ll have to let me know when you’re coming so I can get you a visitors’ badge printed.”
“Who says I’ll be coming?” Mandy quirks her unimpressed smirk.
“Don’t be an idiot, Mick. You love him, he loves you, stop being a coward. The only excuse you had before was Terry and the fucker is six feet under now. You will come to New York, you will give my husband closure and you will either move in with us or you’ll come back here with your tail between your legs. Either way, it will be your choice. Get me?”
“What makes you think that Ian even wants to see me?” Mickey barks, feeling sorry for himself as he’s scolded by the girl he used to pick on by pulling her pigtails and stealing her shit.
“He’s loved you for years, you utter moron. He misses you so much and I want him to be happy so you will make him happy or so help me God I will cut your cock off and make you eat it!” Mickey flinches at the imagery before nodding in acceptance of her threat. She nods imperially before slipping out of the bar and into a black car with tinted windows.
—
It takes him three months to gather enough courage (and money) to get a ticket to New York. His sister picks him up in an expensive SUV with tinted windows. “Is he there?” Mickey asks as she signs him in at the gate. Her lips are red this time, her face perfectly made up and her hair shiny and curly. He’s pretty sure she’s wearing designer sunglasses and her clothes seem expensive too.
“No, he’ll be at work until about seven tonight. He was promoted to Major last year and he’s been enjoying it so much that he’s barely home during the week.” Mickey hums not really knowing what that means in terms of Ian’s importance to the army but Mickey isn’t surprised that the fucker did so well. He’s always been smart, quick and strategic. It helps that he can run fucking fast and his aim with a gun has been pinpoint perfect from the age of twelve. He was also meant to lead, to be empathetic and involved, to be in charge. Mickey likes it when he’s in charge.
Mandy pulls up outside a two storey picture perfect house. Mickey can tell that Mandy has put a lot of effort into making this house their home, making it look as far removed from the Southside as possible. She opens one door of the two-door garage (fuck, how much money does Ian make?) and parks the SUV before bouncing out with her newfound energy and excitement.
The garage opens up into a kitchen that is mainly white though has a large bouquet of yellow flowers on the marble (seriously, fucking marble?) island. He catches a glimpse of a very well stocked fridge and pantry when she pulls them open to tell him where to find things to drink and snack on. They head through a room with just a big table in and he stops and stares at it in confusion. “We have a lot of dinner parties especially now that he’s a Major so we needed a bigger table for everyone.” She shrugs when he gapes at her. She then pulls him to a room called a ‘snug’ which is just where two soft, fluffy couches are facing a TV before she shows him the ‘formal lounge’ where they put guests before and after dinner. So apparently they have enough money for two lounges, it’s blowing Mickey’s mind that’s for sure. “This is Ian’s office but we’re not allowed in there. It’s where he keeps some classified files and his weapons vault so he locks it on his way out. Army rules and all that.” There’s a small bathroom next to the office with a small shower that Mickey is sure that Ian wouldn’t be able to fit into.
They head up a grand fucking staircase that leads to a large hallway with paintings and shit on the wall, more flowers in vases and shiny tables too. “Ian makes sure to buy me flowers when they start to die. He knows I like to make bouquets so he just buys a random assortment from the florist,” She smiles shyly when she spots Mickey’s focus on the purple bunch of flowers at the end of the hallway. “Anyway, this is my room,” She flicks open the door and he leans in to take a peek.
The room is light blue with a huge bed. Most of the furniture is a golden yellow colour though the bed is blue and weirdly padded (why is the bed frame padded? Isn’t that what the mattress is for?). There’s a huge stack of drawers with glass bottles on and a desk with a mirror that’s scattered with makeup. There’s also shelves of books and soft plush toys, a display of handbags and shoes in the walk-in closet that’s filled to the brim with clothes. It looks like every woman’s dream and just the way Mandy looks at it makes Mickey feel warm. Ian - the love of his damn life - saved his little sister from a life of hell and put that smile on her face. Mickey may be jealous that it wasn’t him but he’s starting to find himself grateful that it was at least Mandy. That one of them got to live an easy, happy, healthy life.
“This one is Ian’s. I don’t really go in there cos it’s so fucking boring,” He takes a quick look and only sees a bed that’s perfectly made with two bedside tables flanking it. It looks like there’s a book on one side and a phone charge on the other. There’s a dresser at the end of the bed that has a radio on it for when he sleeps - Ian doesn’t like to sleep in silence. The bathroom is next and Mandy grins when she shows it. “It comes with a fancy bath too!” It’s pristine - Mickey is sure that he hasn’t seen a speck of dust since he got here - and shiny. The shower in here looks like it’ll fit a man of Ian’s size so at least there’s that. Mickey wants to go rooting through cupboards and closets, and wants to see what he can figure out about Ian before they’re forced into an awkward reunion where Mickey begs for the man’s forgiveness.
“Finally, this one is yours!” The room is beige but in that artful way the rich people do it. It feels warm and homey, safe and sound. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see it outside of a magazine. “I know, it’s crazy. When he and I moved into our first place… God, it was this tiny one bedroom place on base and they actually apologised to us like it wasn’t the best thing we’d ever seen. Everything was clean, there were no holes in the walls and the heating worked. It was like heaven and Ian let me make all the decisions on the decor. To be fair, he’s let me do it in every house we’ve ever been in which is actually only three. He made a request to stop me from moving because he was worried about my physical and mental health, he knew the toll it would take on me so we’ve been here for five years now. They offered us a bigger house with his promotion but we knew we’d never need that kind of space besides I wouldn’t want to maintain it.”
“He’s really taken care of you, huh?” Mickey says as he places his bag down on the weird sofa thing at the end of the bed. He turns to look at her and she grins proudly.
“He is the best friend I’ve ever had. We take care of each other. Why don’t you get settled in, maybe have a shower? I’ll have dinner ready by seven.”
“Wait, you cook now?”
“I learned. I had time to figure it all out. Used cookbooks and the internet, hell, that’s how I learned to clean too. I’m actually so good at it that we had so many people around for Christmas and they all thought it was amazing.”
“Sure they weren’t lying?” Mickey teases and Mandy twinkles with laughter.
“No, Ian’s friends are terrible liars.”
Mickey does take a shower but he doesn’t unpack his things. He’s almost positive that Mandy hasn’t told Ian that he’s here so the man may demand that he leave immediately. He doesn’t want to forget anything on the way out. Mickey considers waiting in the bedroom until exactly seven before heading downstairs but decides to sit at the kitchen island and watch his sister make dinner. She hums to the music playing for a speaker connected to her phone, she dances between stations with happy shoulder shrugs and sometimes even shares some cut up fruit and vegetables from her recipes.
Mickey manages to let go of some of his tension until he hears the turn of the key in the lock which springs his spine back to ramrod straight. He sends Mandy a panicked look but she just gives him an exasperated look before leaving the kitchen to greet Ian. “Welcome home!” Mandy chirps and he hears Ian make a strange noise.
“What have you done?” Mickey shudders under the depth of Ian’s voice. It was always nice before but now it’s deeper, rougher with age but smooth like whiskey. Fuck, he shudders under the weight of it.
“What kind of question is that?” Mandy says, sounding playfully irritated.
“Last time you chirped at me like that, you changed the entire layout of the house because of something called feng shui.”
“You said you liked it better after!” She yelps actually sounding offended this time.
“I did. Doesn’t negate the fact that you used that tone that time so I’m curious to know what you’ve done this time. I know you were eyeing that pantry, Mands.”
“Fuck the pantry, I got you a present,” Mickey would be offended to be called a present but he supposes it’s not far from the truth. It just depends on whether or not Ian will want to return him. “You wait in the snug and I’ll bring it to you.” Ian must’ve conceded because she bounces back in and grabs his biceps to tug him from the chair like a ragdoll. Mickey has learned by now not to fight his sister, he’s sure that even with this soft life she hasn’t actually gone full apple-pie life and likely still carries that fucking switchblade that gave him more than a few scars in their childhood.
She leaves him in the doorway and gestures for him to go in alone before wandering off again. He heaves a few breaths before stepping into the room. Ian has his back to him, seems to be reading something on his phone as he waits for Mandy, but spins around as soon as Mickey clears his throat. “Mickey,” Ian whispers reverently and any worry Mickey had dispels as soon as that tone is used. “You-” Ian walks closer and presses his large hand against Mickey’s cheek, encompassing half his face with ease and Mickey can’t help but lean into it with relief. God, he’s missed this. The gentle touches were so rare, it used to give Mickey hives and everything was so much easier to handle when emotions weren’t involved, when he could just write it off as sex. “You’re here,” Ian croaks and Mickey nods, his throat stuck as his eyes tear up.
“I’m sorry,” Mickey chokes out and then they’re crying. Well, as well as they can cry which pretty much means a few tears and a hell of a lot of chest pain. They grip at each other like they’ll slip between their fingers the minute they loosen it and Mickey finally tucks his face into the crook of Ian’s neck.
Home. Finally, home.