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Mickey rolled over, pulling all the sheets with him. It was cold in Chicago; the coldest it'd been for quite a while. The electricity bill had gone up from having the heat on all the time and Ian had even gone out to buy more blankets. They slept in pyjamas regardless if they'd had sex before going to sleep and wore lots of layers around the apartment.
The sharp breeze Ian felt jostled him awake. He glanced across at his boyfriend and smiled at the cocoon the smaller man had wrapped himself in. Mickey looked at ease with the world. But the redhead's satisfaction was short lived because it was too cold to be happy, regardless of how much his boyfriend warmed his heart. He debated going to get some more blankets so he could leave Mickey in his peaceful sleep but neglected that idea when he realised that would mean moving and he really couldn't be bothered.
So Ian shuffled closer and tried to pry the edge of the sheets from his boyfriend's cold hands and shuffle under. It took a lot of effort to gently make Mickey release his tight grip but he managed to do it without disturbing him. Step one was complete, step two was to pull some of the material over himself.
Step two failed. Mickey jumped awake, ready to defend himself. In the past, the brunette had thought lots of times about the envy he felt for those people who could go to sleep at night safe in the knowledge that no one would harm them; people far from alike to him. Now he was fortunate enough to be one of those people, he didn't expect to be awoken from his comfortable slumber.
"Hey. Hey. Calm down. It's only me." Ian whispered soothingly, rubbing up and down Mickey's arm.
"Shit. Sorry." Mickey yearned for the warmth of his boyfriend's touch and leaned into it.
"No problem." The ginger ran his fingers through the smaller man's hair, instantaneously calming him. "We will have a problem if you don't give me my half the sheets back though." He said teasingly.
"Sorry." Mickey sighed, rolling over to release some of the covers to Ian. "It's so fucking cold."
"You don't say." Ian quipped playfully as he nestled down again. He reached over to pull Mickey onto his chest. "I guess I'll have to keep you warm then."
Mickey grinned as the long arms wrapped tightly around him and began to drift off again.
"I don't want you to be scared. Ever. Okay?" Ian finally said in a hushed tone. "You're safe, Mick. He can't get you anymore. I will defend you with my life."
"I can't help it. It's not going to go away. It's programmed into me; part of being a fucked up Milkovich." Mickey sleepily grumbled.
"You're not fucked up. You don't even have to be a Milkovich." Ian tightened his grip, feeling the need to be more protective than normal.
"It's in my genes, man." Mickey quipped monotonously.
"It's just a name. It's not who you are." Ian pulled the sheets right up to their necks and snaked his arms back around his boyfriend's cold waist.
If only that were true Mickey thought. Instead he just said "Don't be such a sap." And awkwardly laughed, burying his true feelings like he had done so many times before.
"I'm being serious." Ian ran a soothing hand up and down Mickey's back.
"What do you expect me to do?" He pulled back to make eye contact with his boyfriend, sharp breeze hitting him.
"Change your name."
Mickey laughed through an exhale. "To what?"
"Gallagher." The redhead said as if were simple.
"Ian." The smaller man looked down with a straight face. Return of the commitment issues was all that was running through his mind.
"I'm being serious. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm not expecting some civil union. I just think it'll give is both what we want."
"What is it we want?" Mickey's initial shocked expression softened into something more contemplative yet skeptical.
"I want you to be mine forever and you don't want to be a Milkovich. So don't be. Be a Gallagher."
"Isn't this a bit fast?" It's not that Mickey didn't want to spend the rest of his life with Ian - he really did - but that was a type of commitment he wasn't sure he was ready for. For him, love was almost too hard and tedious to explain. He'd tried to decipher it so many times before and the closest he could get to explaining the extent of the intense feeling was that it was like sunbathing on the beach. The sun made you warm and lit up your life; the tide ebbs and flows, representing problems coming and going; you can be surrounded by people running around but it was easy to zone out and become completely immersed in your feelings when you became so relaxed; but, in the end, his overarching thought was that his pale skin was vulnerable to the sun's burning rays and left him feeling cautious, using sunscreen to serve as his shield to protect himself. He'd like to think Ian would be impressed with his analogy but was too scared and embarrassed to admit he had thought about it in so much detail. But if he had to explain how he felt for Ian in one word, that word would probably be burning.
"It's been more than a year and a half. I know how serious I am about you." Ian found it a lot easier to explain love. For him, it was as simple as a roller coaster. It had its ups and downs but it felt safe and exhilarating and he wanted it to go around forever.
"You sure?" Mickey said after many nerve-wracking moments of silence.
"Yeah. I've never been more sure about anything."
"Will your family be cool with it?"
"I don't need their permission. Honestly, I think they'll be happy for me." Mickey was giving no indication whether or not he thought the suggestion was ludicrous so Ian spoke with just as much - if not more - conviction.
"Can I think about it?" Mickey lowered himself back down carefully, as if stuck in thought.
"Of course." The redhead placed a kiss on the top of his boyfriend's head. "No pressure. I just know if be happy if you were a Gallagher."
"Me too." Mickey voiced sleepily. And that was all that was said. They dosed off, wrapped around each other. Even the bracing cold of their bedroom couldn't fight the warmth Mickey felt burning inside of him when curled up with his own personal heater.