Chapter Text
Ian paced to the side of the Milkovich house for nearly ten minutes. He considered using the window but he felt a little ridiculous. He wanted to be better than that, anyway.
Man up, Gallagher.
He rushed to the door, and hesitated another second before rapidly knocking on the door a few too many times. Then it hit him what a terrible idea this was. Mickey had snuck him out the window for a reason! Sure, he was dressed this time, but still!
Before he could even consider backing down, the door swung open and Ian held his breath. Letting out a sigh of relief when a familiar little thug opened the door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Mickey whispered, looking behind himself to make sure no one else had come out to the living room.
Ian lowered his head immediately. “Sorry, I’m sorry. This was stupid.”
He turned to go and Mickey grabbed his arm. “Hey no, wait. I was just…surprised to see you, I guess. You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ian said, not facing him.
Mickey stepped outside and shut the door fully. Ian cautiously glanced up at him.
“You were gone before I woke up yesterday,” Mickey said.
Ian shrugged. “I knew the way out.”
Mickey thumbed at his lip. They stood in silence for a minute.
“I quit the club,” Ian said quietly.
“That’s great, Ian.” Mickey gave him a small smile.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, you know, for how I acted. Well, how I’ve acted every time we’ve met, actually. I know you didn’t do anything wrong, I was just…embarrassed, really.”
“Hey, I’m in no position to judge you, man. You should have seen me a year ago.” Mickey shrugged.
“Yeah? Were you whoring yourself out for cash?”
Mickey narrowed his eyes at the challenge. “Not exactly. But I was doing a fuckton of illegal stuff for my dad for cash. Oh, and fag-bashing with him so he wouldn’t be suspicious of me and constantly living a lie to please him and save my own life. But yeah, now that he’s dead, I’m definitely going to start judging other people for how they get by.”
Ian stared at him. “Okay, I’m sorry again. I guess maybe I was the one doing the judging. I just. You remind me of this whole other life I used to have and I want it back. But I know I can’t have it…just like I knew I couldn’t have you.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Mickey…” Ian sighed.
“Ian.”
“Come on. Really?”
“What? Yes, really! I’ve basically been chasing after you like some bitch, you think I do this shit for just anybody?”
Mickey watched confusion flicker across Ian’s face.
“You’ve been to the club two times in six months. You think that’s chasing me?”
“I literally carried you out of there both times.”
“Exactly,” Ian said, sobered by the reminder. “I’m a mess, Mickey. You know it, too, you kicked me out through the window.”
“Hey! Now that shit I would do with anybody. Male at least.”
Ian rolled his eyes, but it didn’t have any of the normal spark. It made Mickey instinctively step closer, itching to reach out. God, he was really getting soft. But maybe he hadn’t been as pathetic as he thought. Putting himself out there twice had been more vulnerable than he’d ever been, but maybe that was just another part of a normal life he should try to get used to.
“Hey,” he said more quietly. “You quit the club, right? At least you’re trying, man. You can start living life for yourself instead of all those disgusting pigs. I’ve been trying to live life for myself, too. Maybe we could like do that together or something.” Mickey shrugged, self-consciously, and looked away. He saw Ian shift closer to him.
“Really?”
Without a trace of anger, Ian resembled more of a puppy. Suddenly Mickey was fighting a smile.
“Yeah, man. I mean, yeah, I’d like to try.”
Ian smiled, nothing like the smile he used at the club, but something better. “I’d like that, too.”
He moved in, catching Mickey unaware even though he had been painfully aware of how close they were standing. He kissed Mickey softly, quick, just long enough for Mickey to catch on and kiss him back. And then he was pulling away, smiling wide.
Mickey nodded in a daze, thumbed at his lip, deliberating, and nodded again. “Okay, then. Okay. You, uh, you wanna come inside?” He gestured to the house.
Ian nodded immediately, but asked, “Are you sure?”
Mickey didn’t answer, turning and walking the few steps up to the door and Ian followed close behind. They slipped inside, Mickey closing the door silently. He released his breath. This was fine, no one had come to the living room. Ian relaxed slightly, too, going off of Mickey’s body language.
But then the fridge closed and there were footsteps, and the sound of Mandy and Iggy starting to claim movie-picking rights. Mickey held his ground, Ian nearly against his back and closer to the door. His heartbeat picked up. They probably looked ridiculous to Mickey’s siblings when they turned the corner. The pairs each stood and stared at each other.
“Mandy, Iggs,” Mickey said formally. He stood up a little straighter. “I just wanted to let you both know I’m gay.”
Mandy frowned, but before Mickey had a chance to freak out about that she plopped herself on the couch.
“Congrats.” She stuffed popcorn in her mouth, and Iggy followed suit shrugging.
“Er, so, this is Ian.” Mickey threw a thumb over his shoulder and shuffled a little to the left as if revealing him.
Iggy glanced up. “Hey.” Then he was back to the popcorn.
Mandy was casually flicking the remote. “You guys wanna watch a movie?”
Mickey’s tentative expression slipped into a scowl.
“No, we don’t wanna watch a fucking movie!” Mickey exclaimed.
“Suit yourselves.”
Mickey growled and grabbed Ian’s hand, dragging him into his bedroom. Ian smiled wide again, eyeing their connected fingers until Mickey caught on and let go, shutting the bedroom door behind them.
“Oh, shut up,” he muttered.
“Were those your siblings? They seem nice,” Ian said brightly. “And I really like your front door.”
Mickey rolled his eyes, but smiled, the relief finally hitting him. His family knew about him. Ian could use the door instead of the window. Then Mickey had to remind himself he barely knew Ian. So, whoever Mickey was with could use the door. But when Ian moved in closer to capture his lips again, well, let’s just say Mickey had a pretty good feeling.