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The first time that Mickey and Ian fuck, Ian tries to take Mickey’s clothes off.
‘What the fuck are you doin’?’ he snaps, scowling.
Ian blinks, now seeming unsure. ‘Trying to take your shirt off…?’
‘Well, fuckin’ don’t,’ Mickey replies and when Ian tries to pull down his pants, he only allows him to pull them down as much as needed.
*
Even though Ian got the gun back and they were now screwing on a regular basis, Mickey can’t stop stealing from the Kash N’ Grab. He at least does it when Ian’s not working, shooting Kash glares every time he so much as glances at Mickey. Mickey tries not to blush as he walks out the door with a box full of junk food, but quickly feels the spiralling shame as he walks home.
As soon as he gets home, he locks himself in his room and starts eating. And he doesn’t stop until all of the BBQ Pringles, all of the Snickers bars, all of the root beers, all of the Slim Jims — all of it — is gone. Sometimes he feels like food is the only good thing in his life. It makes it easier to ignore his bruised ribs.
After he’s done, he chucks all the rubbish under his bed and comes out of his room. He settles on the couch next to Mandy, who’s made some pancakes. Without a word, Mandy hands him a plate with a few on them, smothered in syrup. Without a word, he takes it, trying to forget all the food he’s already eaten and succeeding when he sees the bruises around Mandy’s thin, breakable wrist.
*
Mickey Milkovich is a fat fucking whale. Someone wrote that on a stall at the Alibi a year or two ago.
Mickey ignores it, thinking that the asshole who wrote it wouldn’t dare say it to his face, so the pussy has to write it somewhere. He strides out of the toilets, ignoring the creaking of the stool as he settles down onto it and the looks he gets.
‘Aye, we need a heavy, man. C’mon,’ Iggy says as he approaches him. ‘Need ten tonnes of Milkovich to show those dickwads we mean business.’
Mickey stares down into his drink for a moment before getting up, following after Iggy.
*
The first time that Mickey gets shot, it’s because of fuckin’ Kash. When he came back in after being caught fucking Ian, he didn’t expect the man to grow some balls and actually shoot Mickey, but he did. As he was being taken to hospital, the doctors say that it’s actually good he’s so overweight, or the bullet would have killed him. His large stomach stopped the bullet from going too far. He can hear them complaining about how hard it’s going to be to take out, though.
*
His second time in Juvie is rougher than his first time. They feed him even less, some of the guards making a joke about slimming him down for his own good. He thinks about his mother, who died thinner than she would’ve been if she wasn’t on heroin. One of the guys he knows has a connection and he could get some. He considers it for about a second before deciding to just do it.
Only, as soon as the needle’s in his arm, he panics and passes out. Usually no one gives a shit about a Milkovich, but the guidance counsellor demands to see him. She sits him down and asks him a few questions — about his diet, whether he exercises, about what he was thinking when he tried to do some heroin. He doesn’t answer any.
‘It’s hard to find cheap, healthy food on the Southside, I know,’ she says. ‘And it’s hard to go for a run when you don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning. I’ve read your file, Mickey. I know about your mother…’ She pauses, seeming to ponder about whether she even wants to go there before she asks, ‘Mickey, do you sometimes eat…a lot…sort of uncontrollably all at once? Do you crave food when something bad has happened?’
Mickey shifts in his seat slightly, scowling at the ground and refusing to speak.
She seems to understand what the answer is just from that and says, ‘Mickey…Have you ever heard of binge eating? It’s an eating disorder.’
Mickey’s head snaps up and he growls, ‘I’m not a fuckin’ stick chick throwing up her food.’
She only scowls back and says, ‘I was, but I’m healthier now. They seem like opposites: eating too much or not at all, but they’re both disorders, Mickey. They’re both self-harm.’
Mickey only gets up and walks out, not wanting to hear anymore.
*
When Mickey gets back, Ian’s fucking other people. He always assumes he was, but it’s weird to walk in on it. Ian has the dude pressed against the bleachers, and Mickey takes one look at the guy and hates him. He takes one look at Gallagher, who’s once again bulked up while Mickey was inside, and hates him, too. He doesn’t bother interrupting like he wants to and just turns around, heading home.
He stops at the Kash N’ Grab again and actually buys some food this time, since he works there. Linda eyes him, clearly trying to hide the disgust in her eyes, and he walks out with that usual sense of shame. He can’t wait to get home and just eat whatever he wants in peace, where no one can see him. Only, he doesn’t make it home.
He sees Angie Zago walking down the street and some guys walking behind her, mocking her and calling stuff out to her. He stops for a second, considering just going home and letting her handle it, but then sighs and puts his stuff down. He storms over and yanks one of the guy’s back by his rat’s tail, punching him in the face.
‘You wanna fuckin’ apologise, you shitheads?’ he growls, and the guy on the end of the rat’s tail whimpers.
‘Fine, fine,’ one of the dudes says and turns to Angie Zago. ‘Sorry.’ Then mutters under his breath, ‘You fat fuckin’ bitch.’
Mickey’s about ready to smack him one, too, but Angie steps in and breaks his nose. Realising they are going to probably be beaten the shit out of, the assholes scatter, leaving Mickey and Angie alone.
Angie eyes the box behind him, eyes softening, before she says, ‘Do you wanna come back to my place?’
Mickey, realising that this is probably the only way he’s gonna get his dad to believe he’s straight, nods, grabs his box, and follows her. Once they’re at her place, they talk for a while, eat everything in the box, and then she blows him to thank him. He’s not into it, but she seems to be putting in a lot of effort in appreciation and in a way it’s kind of comforting that someone is grateful for him.
*
Ian doesn’t get why he fucks Angie. Ian doesn’t understand that Angie is sometimes the only person Mickey feels like gets it. Angie is the only one who he talks to and who he fucks who doesn’t ask to take his clothes off and doesn’t stare anytime he eats anything. Angie doesn’t tell him she’s worried about his health or that he would look better if. It’s easier to look at Angie than look at Ian.
Sometimes Ian will say something about Mickey and him going running together, and Mickey knows it’s probably all with good intentions, but all he hears is you’re not good enough for me, so you’d better shape up before I ditch your fat ass. Mickey usually goes back home and pulls out his chocolate stash after that.
Sometimes Mandy will tell him that if he wore tighter clothes, he would look thinner. One day, he does wear a jeans that actually fit, but he goes into the Alibi and Kev mutters something to Vee about telling Terry not to dress his fat kids in skinny jeans. He goes home, trashes the jeans and pulls his usual pair of baggy pants back on. He’s never wearing fuckin’ skinny jeans again.
So, yeah, sometimes he fucks Angie. And sometimes, they say they fuck, but they don’t. Sometimes they just sit and talk about anything, smoking and laughing at each other’s jokes. One time it’s hot as balls and Angie lies around topless. Mickey doesn’t really want to, but Angie just looks at him sweating in his shirt and frowns.
‘No one’s home, ya know. And we don’t have an air con.’
Mickey just bites his lip before pulling his shirt off. He doesn’t look down at himself, refuses to see the cellulite and the stretch marks and the other awful stuff. He just focuses on Angie’s responding grin.
*
Mickey calls out to Angie, asking if she wants to fuck, because she’s sitting on her porch drinking again. She just nods and goes into the house. He follows and she doesn’t say anything as she pulls him down on top of her.
Ah, he thinks, it’s one of those days.
They barely fuck anymore, but when they do, Mickey doesn’t really like it. He just does it if Angie wants to, because she’s pretty much his beard anyway, so she might as well get something out of it. Plus, he’s had a pretty shit day himself.
This time, though, Angie doesn’t take her clothes off. This time, she starts crying.
Mickey pulls out. He sits up and drags her into his arms, and lets her cry. He knows what she’s thinking about and he knows what probably happened again.
‘I love him, but he doesn’t want me,’ she whispers.
‘…How do you know?’ he asks.
Mickey’s never known this mystery guy that Angie clearly is in love with. All he knows is that he fucks her over all the time and she’s constantly in tears over him.
‘He told me. Doesn’t want me, never did. He’s got some girl now…’ she continues and Mickey just barely hears her breathe, ‘She’s skinny.’
Mickey doesn’t know what else to do. All he’s ever known about comfort is food. It probably isn’t helpful, but he just says, ‘Do you wanna go get something?’
Angie shakes her head. ‘No. I don’t wanna eat anymore. I don’t wanna look like this, Mickey. Just a fat fuckin’ piece of—’
‘Hey,’ Mickey interrupts softly. ‘You’re not, okay? You’re fuckin’…you’re fuckin’ beautiful. If some asshole can’t see that, fuck him. Tell me who he is and I’ll slash his fuckin’ tyres.’
Angie sniffs, looking up at him. ‘You’d do that?’
Mickey nods. ‘You’re my best friend, Angie.’
*
Angie and Mickey start helping each other out. He stays at her place so often he might as well live there, and he finally tells her about Gallagher. She just accepts it and says she wishes he had stopped fucking her earlier, then, if he was gay. He bristles at the word, but doesn’t argue. What’s the point? Angie knows all his deepest, darkest secrets.
They start to go on walks together. They try their best to avoid binge eating, but sometimes they fall off the wagon. When Angie doesn’t want to face the world or when Mickey doesn’t want to get yelled at from a car about his weight, the other tells them to sack up and just do it.
He’s slowly, but surely, shedding weight and finding it easier to do everyday things that were so impossible before. He’s not hating himself so much when he changes and sees himself in the mirror anymore. Sure, according to everyone else, he’s still morbidly obese, but, to him, he’s starting to look good. Whenever someone comments on his weight, he does go back to that dark place and sometimes Angie will come home to find him eating his weight in whatever food he managed to steal, but he’s getting better. When Ian whispers in his ear, ‘So fuckin’ hot,’ he starts to believe it.
He comes home one day to Mandy chilling on the couch. It’s been a week since he last saw her and she wolf-whistles when she sees him, grinning.
‘You look so good, douchebag!’
Mickey shrugs sheepishly, trying to keep down the blush rising in his cheeks. ‘Angie and I are tryn’a lose some weight.’
Mandy nods. ‘Yeah, I saw Angie the other day. She’s looking so much slimmer.’
Mickey grins in response to the compliment for his best friend. ‘Yeah, she’s lookin’ good.’
Mandy smiles slightly. ‘I’m glad she has you, Mick. Glad you have each other.’
Mickey nods. ‘Yeah, me too.’
*
It takes three more years until Mickey’s down to a reasonable weight. It has been a struggle — probably one of the hardest things he will ever do. He’s still not the “ideal” body weight, but he loves the way he looks now and Ian loves the way he looks. Mickey smiles more and feels better, not only because he overcame his eating disorder but also because he’s living with Ian and happily out now. He and Angie hang out just as much. Sometimes they double date with her boyfriend, Jack, and he and Ian.
The first time Ian decides he wants to buy Mickey some clothes, and Mickey doesn’t have to go and ask how large their sizes go, Mickey cries in the dressing room. After a few minutes, Ian softly knocks and Mickey lets him in. Ian hugs him, running a hand through his hair and saying how good he looked in the black button-down Ian picked out.
The first time he goes to the movies with Ian and only takes up one seat comfortably, he can’t keep the smile off his face and squeezes Ian’s hand the whole time.
The first time he looks in the mirror and doesn’t see a double-chin, he grins, and Ian walks in and starts kissing his neck, and Mickey doesn’t even push him away.
The first time they have sex and Mickey takes all his clothes off, Ian just stares in awe at him the whole time. He whispers how gorgeous he is and touches every inch of skin he can reach. He trails his fingers along Mickey’s rolls and his stretch marks. He dips his fingers in the cellulite in his thighs and kisses his upper arm, knowing Mickey especially hates them.
The first time Mickey lets Ian take a selfie with him, Ian asks to post it online. Mickey asks why, not really comfortable with it, and Ian just tells him he wants to show him off. ‘I want everyone to be jealous of how hot my boyfriend is, Mick.’ Mickey lets him and smiles when Debbie comments, You guys are literally the cutest couple ever <3
The first time Mickey and Ian double-date with Kev and Vee is the last time. Mickey doesn’t really want to, still not over Kev’s comment from years ago, but he does because Ian doesn’t know what Kev said and he doesn’t want to make it into a big thing. Still, when Kev congratulates Mickey on how good he looks, and he starts talking bullshit, Mickey can’t help it anymore.
‘Some people say it’s so hard to lose weight, but you know what, they’re just lazy,’ Kev says. ‘You did it! All it takes is getting off your lazy ass and actually putting in the work.’
‘Actually, a lot of people have fuckin’ low self-esteem and eating disorders. I had one, and I worked through it. Everyone told me how fuckin’ fat and disgusting I was, and I got better anyway.’
Kev nods along as if his statement is still true, as if what Mickey said supports his statement. ‘Exactly! All of this body positivity hipster bullshit is just encouraging fat people to stay fat. Telling people how it is helps them lose weight.’
‘Kev,’ Ian says warningly, but Mickey decides enough is enough.
‘Actually, Kev, I know you’re barely even fuckin’ listenin’ to me, but let me lay it down for you. I didn’t get healthier because of assholes like you, I did it in spite of assholes like you. Listening to that bullshit just made me feel worse and made me go and eat more. You didn’t help, you’re not helping, and it’s really none of your fuckin’ business what other people do with their bodies, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up?’
By now, Mickey’s standing and visibly shaking. Kev doesn’t have anything to say to that apparently, so Mickey just storms off. Ian follows, putting an arm around him.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Ian asks, frowning. ‘I know that must’ve been rough.’
‘I could use some fuckin’ food right now. Like, chocolate or something. Maybe some Pringles. Just—’
‘How about instead we walk home?’ Ian suggests gently.
Mickey nods, rubbing his palms into his wet eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he croaks out, ‘Let’s do that.’
They hold hands and walk home, knowing it’s a long road ahead still and might always be. Mickey didn’t just go on a diet, Mickey changed his life, and old habits die hard. He will never stop trying though, despite what all of those assholes say. He can do this. He has Angie, and Ian, and Mandy, and he can do this.
Just has to take it one day at a time.