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The summer so far had been very exhausting for the Gallagher-Milkovich family, and that primarily had to do with the fact that it was sweltering outside. The weather forecast stated that it was about eighty-nine degrees last week, a few degrees higher than what the temperature was a few days prior.
That didn’t help Ian, Mickey, or their sons at all. Mickey had a full-time job fixing cars, and the combination of the heat and trying to get the motors going on broken vehicles wore the Milkovich out. Ian’s summer days weren’t any better. Most of his job consisted of office work, and the building where he worked somewhere in downtown Chicago had the shittiest air conditioning, which wouldn’t get fixed until the end of July.
Fucking great.
Max and Isaac didn’t have to work as hard as their fathers, especially with school being out for both of them. However, they were both intolerant of the heat as well. Every summer, Ian and Mickey would have to run to the store and stock up on Popsicles and lemonade so the boys could cool off. Almost every time, when it got down to the last cherry-flavored stick, or the last drip of lemonade in the carton, the two were always arguing over who should have the last of it. Mickey, of course, got sick of it after a while, so he elected to get an extra portable fan for the house. At least they each would have somewhere to sit comfortably while their parents were gone.
When one of them asked for either Ian or Mickey to get some more lemonade and Popsicles from the store, Mickey would serve them a glass of ice water. They had a budget to maintain, after all, and Mickey knew Ian would start complaining about their sugar intakes.
Cooling off was usually the most stressful thing for the four of them to undergo every summer, but there were also days when they didn’t have to worry about it too much. Like today, for example. The weather forecast said it would be cloudy with a chance of rain later on in the day. Mickey literally groaned in relief at the sound of that, and Ian and the kids couldn’t help but agree.
However, none of them were expecting a storm that would eventually wash upon them that night.
Mickey was on the couch, lazily watching some boring ass prime-time drama while his four-year-old son colored in his comic book-themed coloring book. Max, as bored as he was, wandered around in the kitchen while Ian prepared some food for dinner. The stove had been on for a few minutes, and already, Ian could feel his shirt gluing to his chest.
“Dad,” Max spoke impatiently, “when is the food gonna be ready?”
“Soon, buddy,” Ian answered, stirring the rice in the pot, “I just have to get the meat to cook for a little while longer and get the greens going. Then we all can eat.”
Max sighed, pacing around the kitchen floor for a minute before opening the fridge for some of the orange juice near the back of one of the shelves. Before he could get to it, Ian grabbed a hold of the door handle, mainly in an attempt to grab some butter off one of the shelves. “Hey, man. Let’s wait a while before we get the juice out. Sound good?”
Ian sometimes joked to Mickey about how some of his husband’s traits were wearing off on the redheaded little boy, and in situations like this, it was no different. Max didn’t like waiting for anything, and neither did Mickey, especially when it came to getting food in their system.
The older redhead watched as Max strolled on out of the kitchen, making his way towards the window instead. Ian couldn’t complain about his current state. He used to be like that when he lived at the old Gallagher house with all his siblings.
Ian missed being a kid. Max and Isaac were both lucky. They had a few more years ahead of them before they had to deal with big boy work like Ian and Mickey were up to right now. The kids made Ian feel so much younger, and he knew they had the same effect on Mickey as well. Ian always got a kick out of seeing Isaac crawl on top of his father’s stomach, trying to get their equally blue eyes to connect while Isaac held up his Spider-Man doll in Mickey’s direction.
He wished he could go back to something like that. He really wished he could. At the same time, he was grateful for his sons, because with them, it’s like he was already back in time.
Dinner had been completely cooked about twenty minutes later, and Ian gathered up his husband and the kids to come eat at the dining room table. Once everyone finished eating and sharing different stories around the table, it was time for bed. Tomorrow was the weekend, but Ian and Mickey still hard work to do, and they had to be up early so they could leave on time.
Ian took Isaac into the bathroom to help him wash up, while Max sat in his room and watched the rain pour outside. He was fascinated with the rain and how every little rain drop sounded against the glass. Every time, he would put a hand against the glass to just feel how small yet so powerful each one was. He’s only a seven-year-old, but boy, he’s an adventurous one.
“Ay.” Max heard the sound of his father’s voice at the door. When he turned around, Mickey was leaning against the archway of Max’s door. “Getting ready for bed, man?”
“In a minute.”
Mickey walked further into the room to sit on Max’s bed with him, bringing the smaller boy close to him and gazing out the window at the rain coming down outside. “They said there would be a big storm coming tonight.”
“Really?”
Mickey nodded, watching the powerful winds blow at the trees outside. “It looks kinda rough out there, though. It may even blow out the electricity.”
As much as Max loved watching the rain fall, he absolutely hated it when the electricity went out, especially in the summer time when the Gallagher-Milkovich clan sweat their limbs off without moving a single inch. Every room in the house would get hotter and hotter by the minute, and every time, Max always found himself asking his fathers when the electricity would come back on.
Mickey hated those kinds of stormy nights, too. It didn’t help that, with the lights out and everything, that he and Ian had to make use of the candles they stored in the basement somewhere. Not only did those tiny little flames burning on the candle produce so much heat, but since the kids were restless as hell during black outs, Mickey often worried about one of them knocking a candle over and starting a fire.
Well, he didn’t have to worry about Max since he wasn’t as wild as he was when he was a toddler, though he’s still pretty young.
It was mainly Isaac he had to worry about.
“Dad, I don’t want the electricity out again,” Max pouted, leaning his head against Mickey’s side.
The raven-haired man brought an arm around his seven-year-old son, holding him close. “I don’t either, man,” Mickey responded, rubbing his small back as he gazed out the window at the rain drops, “but there’s nothing we can do about it but to be prepared.”
“How do we get prepared?”
“Dad and I should have more candles in the basement for us,” Mickey explained. “We could light a couple of those up in case one of you needs to go to the bathroom or something like that.”
“But Dad, it’s gonna be hot again.”
“There are ice cubes in the freezer,” Mickey responded, “and you can take some cold water and put it on a rag or something until you’re cooled off.” Mickey glanced down at his son for a moment, trying to get the little boy’s attention. “Sound good?”
Max nodded. Hopefully that would be the last of the heat talk he would have to hear for the rest of the night. The damn conversation was making himself hot.
Outside, the storm got worse. Winds were blowing everything and anything they could off the ground. A couple of cars’ horns went off, startling the kids inside the Gallagher-Milkovich household a bit. Eventually, though, Max and Isaac were off to sleep in their respective rooms, leaving Ian and Mickey to tend to themselves in their master bedroom.
Ian started to lift one of the windows open to let in some more cool air when he heard Mickey’s voice. “Close the damn window, man.”
“It’s cool enough outside to let some air in, Mick.”
“Okay, but the water is gonna start spilling in here.”
“It’s better than eventually being stuck in the dark with no cool air.” Mickey rolled his eyes after that, and Ian could easily tell he won.
Mickey went back to tapping away on his beat-up iPhone, but only for a few seconds, for he could feel the bed dip in front of him a couple of times, indicating that Ian was crawling onto the bed. When the Milkovich looked up again, he could see a playful little smirk on Ian’s face.
Ian wanted to fuck. Mickey knew this already.
“Besides,” the redhead began, crawling on all fours towards Mickey, and once he got close enough, he leaned closer to his neck to place a couple of soft yet electrifying pecks right there underneath his ear. “Just think…of how good you’d feel…once I’m done pounding you.”
With every kiss after every couple of words, Mickey could feel his jaw drop a bit at Ian’s seductive tone and his lips pressing against his neck. They hadn’t had much sex since they had two children. Sure, there were days like the ones where Ian and Mickey left the boys with either Fiona or a babysitter so they could have some alone time, but those moments were rare. Those moments usually occurred about a couple of times a month, almost. Ian and Mickey loved Max and Isaac with all their heart, but they loved each other as well. They loved giving each other this kind of affection.
“You’re a fucking tease. You know that?” Mickey groaned in Ian’s ear, and Ian could literally feel himself shiver at Mickey’s gruff voice. Who knew that a voice like his could turn him on so much?
Ian lifted his head for a moment to gaze his green eyes into Mickey’s blue. “Best one you ever had.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The two men leaned in on each other and gave each other the slowest of kisses. Ian started to lower one of his hands down to Mickey’s boxers, palming his length against the green, plaid fabric. A moan left Mickey’s mouth, the sound transferring into Ian’s, at his husband’s touch. His leg bent at the feel of the fingers curling around his dick, and Mickey’s right hand automatically came up to the back of Ian’s neck, holding him there as he made out with him on top of their bed sheets.
They were going at it for a good five minutes. However, their ceremony stopped at the sudden flash of lightning from outside the window, followed by the flickering of their lamp lights. Before they knew it, all of the lights in the house were out, and the fans were no longer functioning.
“Goddamn it,” Mickey groaned, almost hitting his head against the headboard. It had gotten hotter in their bedroom in less than a few seconds – and not from their heavy make-out session this time.
Ian rolled his eyes, climbing off the bed and heading towards the window to lift it up some more. “And you were the one who wanted the windows shut.”
Just then, the couple heard their youngest son cry in his bedroom, followed by Max calling them from his room. “Dad! Dad! The power went out! It’s hot again!”
Mickey ran a hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that started to form there within the few seconds the power had been out. “Here we fucking go again,” he groaned. He could hear his husband chuckle in front of him, which prompted Mickey to lift his head and frown at him, looking slightly offended. “What?”
Ian tried covering his smile with his hand, but it was no use since Mickey was being the little grump he was and folding his arms at him. “You look fucking cute when you’re angry.”
“Fuck off.” Ian giggled some more, and even Mickey couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks.
Max opened their bedroom door moments later, and the adults both turned their heads in his direction, checking to make sure they were decent at the same time. “Dad, Isaac’s crying in the other room,” Max told Ian, “and it got hot again.”
“Don’t worry, bud,” Isaac told Max, walking towards the bedroom door. “I’ll go get him.” He ruffled the top of Max’s red hair a bit before exiting the room, leaving Max with his other father.
Mickey inched an eyebrow at the little boy in the room. “What did I say about those cold rags, huh?”
“Sorry, Dad. I forgot.” Not even Mickey could be irritated by the expression on his son’s face. Cute little fucker.
Mickey crawled on out of the bed, heading in Max’s direction and patting the redhead on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get something to cool us off,” he suggested, and Max nodded in agreement. “And let’s grab some ice cubes, too. There’s no telling how long the electricity will be out for, and those things might melt.”
“But they’re in the freezer.”
“The freezer has to be plugged into the wall to work, sport.” He chuckled to himself at the O-shape his son made. Kid’s learning something new every day.
Once Mickey and Max made it out of the master bedroom, Ian came out of Isaac’s bedroom, carrying the four-year-old in his arms and allowing him to cry on his shoulders. Isaac hated thunder and lightning. He’s hated it ever since the rumbling from outside stuck as a clear memory in his brain. Max was more tolerant of the thunder and lightning than his brother was, so Ian and Mickey didn’t have a problem with him as he grew up.
Isaac was a different story. He was very sensitive to loud sounds, especially ones that reached his ears during the depths of the night.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Ian soothingly whispered in Isaac’s ear, softly patting the little boy’s back. He could feel sweat all over Isaac’s head as he rested his cheek against Isaac’s temple. “Come on, baby. Let’s cool you off, okay?”
Mickey glanced back at Ian and Isaac for a moment, and he calmed down a bit as Isaac’s cries got a little quieter. He knew he shouldn’t be this worried about his son crying like that, especially when the four of them were all safe under the same roof. At the same time, Mickey also didn’t want the little boy to be overcome with fear. Memories from his teenage years came back to the older Milkovich. He was tired of being scared of things. Maybe they were the same things Isaac was scared of, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want Isaac to struggle with fear for so long.
Ian, Mickey, and the boys were all in the kitchen, being careful as to not bump into anything as they walked through the dark house. Isaac kept his arms around Ian’s neck, braving the elements and glancing around the dark space. Their only source of light came from the windows in the living room, which created eerie shadows on the walls that very well looked like crooked monsters to the four-year-old.
“Daddy,” Isaac cried against Ian’s shoulder, his eyes falling back down so he wouldn’t have to stare at the shadows again. He absolutely hated the dark and everything that could potentially be in it. How his older brother managed to be so brave and not scream right now, he’ll never know.
“I got you, baby,” Ian whispered in Isaac’s ear, giving him a sweet kiss on Isaac’s soaked cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Mickey grabbed the container of ice cubes and started filling three plastic cups with three cubes each. Once the ice container was put away once again, he filled two of the cups with water, handing one to Max and then Ian.
“Here,” Mickey spoke to Ian, reaching his arms out for Isaac. “Let me hold him.”
Ian handed the little boy over to Mickey, and they both listened to the sounds of Isaac’s little whimpers as he was taken from one parent by another. “Ay,” Mickey whispered to him, taking one of the ice cubes from his cup and wrapping it in a small paper towel piece. “Want one of these? It’ll help you cool off.” He started to dab the towel-wrapped ice on Isaac’s face, and he watched his son visibly calm down a bit.
That didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared.
“Dad, I don’t wanna go to sleep,” Max told Ian after taking a sip of ice water. “It’s too hot for me to go to bed.”
“And…and the monsters will come out and get me,” Isaac whimpered, causing Mickey to hug him a little closer.
Ian and Mickey wanted their little boys to get some sleep, because eventually, it’ll be morning, and the adults would have to go to work. They would be sleep deprived if they all stayed up, but neither Max nor Isaac wanted to close their eyes. They needed to do something to get them to doze off – for a second, at least.
And that’s when Ian got an idea.
“Hey, Mick,” Ian told his husband, “you think we can let the boys camp out with us for a little while?”
Max and Isaac’s ears perked up at the sound of that. “Yeah, Dad,” Max agreed, turning to Mickey. “Let’s camp out tonight.”
“Yeah, Papa.”
Even Mickey couldn’t disagree with Ian’s plan. At this point, he was willing to do anything to get the boys to bed, and keeping them in individual rooms wouldn’t help anyone. “Sure. Why not?” He grinned at the sound of Isaac cheering in his arms. He loved seeing both of his boys happy, and they haven’t had this intimate family time in a while.
Mickey brought both of the boys in the master bedroom, while Ian searched around for some candles for them to burn. Max immediately headed to the window, leaning his forearms against the ledge as he allowed the cool air from outside hit his face. As he attempted to put Isaac down on the mattress, Mickey turned his attention to his eldest son.
“Don’t stand too close to the window for too long, Max,” Mickey warned him. “The storm’s pretty bad out there. For all we know, it could break the windows.”
“Storms can break windows?”
“Not all of them, but this one’s kinda wild tonight,” Mickey answered, walking over to the redhead and tickling his midsection, earning giggles from Max.
“Stop, Dad. You’re tickling me.”
“Nah, man. I’m not Dad; I’m Tickles the Turtle,” Mickey replied, grinning down at the little boy in front of him. “He may be slow, but he won’t miss an opportunity to tickle the life out of anyone who dared to stand near the window.”
Even Isaac started to join in on the fun from afar. “Oh, no.”
Mickey turned around, smiling at the little boy on the mattress. “Yep,” he responded, running over to the bed and sitting down on it so he could tickle Isaac like he did with Max. “Tickles will give you the hiccups if you don’t get away, Isaac.”
The little boy was too far gone at this point. He held his legs up to his chest, trying to cover up his ticklish spots from Mickey. It was no use. Mickey knew all of his weak points. “Daddy,” he laughed into the mattress.
“Isaac,” Max called to his brother, “we have to hide before he gives us the hiccups.”
The two boys started running around in circles in an attempt to get away from Mickey’s wiggling fingers. While that was going on, Ian entered the room with a lit candle and a couple of cold rags – one for all four of them – and smiled at how much fun his boys were having. The tears were long gone from Isaac’s face, and Max was no longer complaining about the heat.
The best part? The whole family was having fun, like a family should. That’s why Ian cherished these moments the most.
By now, Isaac and Max had hid underneath the bed sheets, trying to hold them down so Mickey couldn’t crawl under there with them. The two boys giggled as Mickey crawled on the bed in search of a way to find access to them. “You two are gonna get warm under there,” Mickey stated, a smile plastered on his face. “It’ll make it easier for Tickles to come get you.”
“No, Dad. We can’t come out. He’ll get us.”
“Yeah, Papa. Tickles can’t get us.”
Mickey was about the surrender when he noticed a piece of the blanket that wasn’t tacked down by one of their limbs. He started scratching at his chin, looking down at the blanket with an eyebrow inched on his forehead. “Is that so?” Both Max and Isaac nodded their heads under the sheets, unaware of what Mickey was actually going to do.
Suddenly, Mickey grabbed the end of the blanket, yanking it off the boys’ heads and causing them to scream with delight filled in the air. Mickey immediately made a move to grab Max’s foot and start tickling him there for a good few seconds or so. Isaac had crawled away from Mickey in time, making it closer to Ian on the other side of the bed.
“Alright, alright,” Ian interrupted, setting the candle down on the night stand and smiling at Mickey and his sons before him. “Enough with the torture, Tickles.” Mickey grinned over in Ian’s direction. It warmed Ian’s heart to know his husband was having fun.
The laughter in the room died down a bit as Ian handed the three of them a rag each. Mickey helped adjust the rags on Max and Isaac’s necks, and Ian started to pat himself with the dark blue rag left in his hand. “You two up for a bedtime story?” Ian suddenly asked, and the boys nodded their heads in agreement.
Mickey picked Isaac up off the mattress and placed him on his lap as he adjusted himself on the bed so he was laying down in a comfortable position. Max scooted closer to his dad and his brother, while Ian fluffed his pillow and leaned on it with his elbows, making himself comfortable on the bed with his family.
The atmosphere changed as Ian got into his storytelling mode, using a soft voice as he described every scene in detail. Mickey, Max, and Isaac all watched and listened attentively, adjusting their rags on their skin as necessary, as Ian used a bunch of cartoonish voices and drew images of different buildings with his hands. The weather outside was just background noise to them now, even if Isaac flinched a bit at the bits of thunder rolling out in between Ian's storytelling. Mickey kissed Max and Isaac on their heads as they each reacted to either the storm outside or an event that happened in the story, and Ian could feel his own heart swell at the sight. He just loved these kinds of family moments.
Eventually, the boys and Mickey fell asleep after Ian told about two more stories following the first. Ian didn’t even have it in him to wake Mickey up so they could help Isaac and Max in their own beds. He just scooted closer to Max, smoothing his pillow out and falling into a deep sleep by his son’s side. As he slept, he wished he didn’t have to let this moment go the next day. He loved it so much. He loved his family so much. He loved the fun things they got to do together.
These were the moments Ian would cherish forever.