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Neutral ground, it was important as fuck whether for a drug deal or just a meetup and right now neutral ground was the thing that Mickey needed more than anything.
He’d spent most of the morning changing his mind, then changing it back and he felt like a fucking yoyo but here he was, standing in the park where he and Ian had agreed to meet.
Ian had suggested meeting in Southside but Mickey wasn’t willing to do that. Southside had memories that he didn’t need clouding his mind if he was going to do this and the question of whether he was actually going to do this was one that was still up in the air.
There was still time for him to leave, to just say ‘fuck it’ and cut out but instead of doing that he found himself moving toward one of the empty benches.
He needed to do this, needed the closure to move on with his life…at least that was what he kept telling himself.
Exhaling slowly he watched as his breath curled in front of him in the cold air. His fingers itched for a fag but he hadn’t brought any and he wondered if that was because he hadn’t wanted one or because his brain still remembered that Ian had been trying to quit. Sometimes Mickey fucking hated his brain because it was like Ian was imprinted there, written under all the shit that he had access to and no matter how deep he dug he couldn’t get the fucker out.
Mickey didn’t even want to think about his heart because it had gotten him into enough trouble as it was.
He wasn’t letting Ian in again; he’d been able to make that decision with minimal ease because all that shit about not being able to remember when you were hurt? That was good and well for shit like broken bones but Mickey could still feel the gaping hole in his chest and the way that his heart had stuttered in his chest when Ian had turned his back on him and there was no fucking way that he was going to do that to himself again.
He was a different person now; he had people depending on him, people like Matthew and the other kids at the centre. He couldn’t turn up drunk off his tits if he was going to tell them to stop drinking. The little fuckers were perceptive as hell, they’d smell his misery a mile away and then Rob would cart his ass off to the quack or even worse…he’d get Sam to do it.
The image had Mickey scowling and that was when he caught sight of Ian and seriously fuck his heart for tripping up because he wasn’t fucking doing this shit again.
Ian paused for a second, scanning the park grounds and Mickey could have done the mature thing and waved him over or you know…moved, so the dumbass could see him but Mickey didn’t feel like doing any of that and it was probably childish but fuck it, he deserved to be childish.
He could see the moment when Ian caught sight of him because his shoulders tensed and the fluidity from before transformed into a rigid gait that Mickey was pretty sure he’d learned in ROTC or when he’d run off to join the army.
It didn’t matter either way because Ian’s habits and what he knew wasn’t any of Mickey’s business anymore.
“Hey,” Ian called and Mickey nodded in response, his fingers tugging at his sleeve when he remembered that he didn’t have the fag that he was itching for.
“What did you wanna talk about?” he cut in, cruising past the greeting ‘cause he wasn’t here to play nice. He wanted this shit over and done with as soon as possible.
Ian licked his lips before glancing at the seat. “Can I sit down at least?”
Mickey shrugged, “It’s a free fucking world, Red. Knock yourself out,” he responded, pretending not to notice when Ian hesitated before he slid onto the bench.
Bracing his elbows on his knees Ian leaned forward, tangling his fingers together as he stared out at the park and to keep himself from staring at Ian, Mickey focused on the group of kids playing in the sandbox a few feet away.
“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” Ian whispered and Mickey snorted, he fucking tried not to but this shit was unbelievable.
“When did you figure that shit out? When I almost got fucking shot or when you acted like I was some bitch you’d gotten a leg over?”
Ian shrugged, sinking in on himself and Mickey shook his head because this shit, this was exactly what he wasn’t willing to put up with…not anymore.
“Ay, look we said all the shit we needed to say, alright? Let’s just call it fuckin’ quits…”
“I’ve been seeing a therapist!” Ian shouted and Mickey flinched as he watched Ian but apparently he’d startled himself with the outburst as much as he’d startled Mickey. “I’m seeing a therapist,” he repeated, not quite meeting Mickey’s eyes. His gaze flickered somewhere above Mickey’s left ear and Mickey was grateful for that because he didn’t want to meet Ian’s eyes either.
The silence stretched on between them until Ian straightened on the seat.
“She said I needed to talk to you,” he carried on, clenching his fingers around each other. “At first she wanted me to bring you with me but I told her that wasn’t happening…”
“Fuckin’ right it wasn’t,” Mickey cut in and Ian bit his lip as his eyes skittered over Mickey’s face before his gaze dropped back to his own hands.
“Yeah, I told her that but she said I should still try to talk to you,” Ian added and Mickey leaned back against the bench, his eyes still tracking the kids…one of them look a lot like Matthew.
“Look, I’m glad you’re getting help. You taking your meds and shit? That’s good and when you see your therapist you can tell her that you did what she wanted, you talked to me…”
“That’s not the only reason why I’m here,” Ian interrupted and this time Mickey did meet his gaze because he was fucking doing this.
“Gallagher, if you know what’s good for you, you’d better shut the fuck up,” he snarled but Ian just stared at him.
“I fucked up, Mickey, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight for this,” he responded and Mickey laughed, a little hysterically if he was honest with himself, because this shit was so far beyond fucking hysterical.
“Fight for what? What the fuck are you fighting for Ian? We’re done, we’re through. There ain’t shit happening between me and you!”
“Because I’m sick?” Ian demanded and Mickey wanted to wrap his hands around the fucker’s neck and just squeeze the living shit out of him because Ian wasn’t this stupid.
“ ’Cause I can’t fucking trust you!” he hissed and Ian flinched like Mickey had socked him one in the jaw. “You made a fucking porno, you told me you fucked other people and I was right there with you. You think if some other fucker had done that I’d have taken it lying down? I know you’re fucking sick, I knew you were sick when I listened to that bitch talking about forty years on your meds and wasn’t I right fuckin’ there? Did you see me cut out?”
Ian shook his head.
“You know why? Cause you were it for me. You think I fucking cared that I’d be forcing those pills down your throat? I didn’t give a fuck. I’d have done that shit in a heartbeat and you took all of that and threw it in my face. You saw me getting shot at and didn’t even think to do shit. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you when I could’ve been dead in a ditch somewhere when you were playing happy family with those fuckers who only cared about you when their shit collided with yours, huh?”
Mickey was shaking now but he couldn’t leave this unsaid because Ian wasn’t going to break him a second time.
Mickey wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick up the pieces again if he did.
“I’m getting better,” Ian whispered and there were tears in his eyes but Mickey didn’t move towards him, no matter how much he wanted to. “I swear to God, I’m getting better.”
“Tell me something,” Mickey asked as he turned his attention back to the kids because if he looked at Ian he’d never be able to do this. “When did you come looking for me? The first time…when was it?”
“Three months ago,” Ian whispered and Mickey nodded as he gritted his teeth.
“When did you start taking your meds?” Ian didn’t answer immediately and Mickey glanced at him. “It’s a simple fucking question, Ian. When the fuck did you start taking your meds again?”
“Five months ago,” Ian responded and Mickey smiled as he stared at the kids.
That one definitely reminded him of Matthew.
“Thanks,” he whispered and then he got up and walked away, ignoring Ian calling after him because he’d heard all he needed to.
*O*
Pick up the phone please.
You don’t understand I wanted to come see you.
I’m sorry.
“You ever hated someone you loved?” Mickey muttered as he shoved his phone under a cushion and Mandy rolled her head just enough to meet his eyes.
“Lip,” she responded without missing a beat and Mickey snorted because of course….of fucking course.
“Fucking Gallaghers,” he groaned, reaching for a new beer.
He was on his sixth and it wasn’t even two in the evening but when he’d come home to Mandy standing red eyed at his apartment door he’d decided to just say fuck it.
“Worst part is the fucker didn’t even say it back to me, you know?” Mandy groaned as she rolled onto her stomach and Mickey’s fingers clenched around his can.
“I could fuck his face up for you?” he offered and Mandy eyed him for a second
“Why his face?”
“You telling me the fucker ain’t vain as hell? Plus you did it first, just following your lead and all,” he responded and he was proud of the way that he skated around Ian’s name without mentioning him directly.
“He’s not worth it. Heard he fell in love and got his heart messed with, just goes to show that karma’s a fucking bitch when she wants to be.”
“I could get Iggy to fuck him up for you,” Mickey offered but Mandy just snickered.
“Iggy’s a changed man because of Juanita.”
Just the way that Mandy said the name had Mickey perking up. “Who?”
“Some broad he’s trying to impress, it’s sick but sweet. I hope he’s got better luck than us.”
Mickey hummed to himself and took a sip even as his phone started vibrating again.
“You gonna answer it?” Mandy asked and Mickey shot her the stinkeye.
“You gonna tell Lip to fuck off if he comes crawling back to you?” he retorted.
“Fuck you,” Mandy snapped, glowering up at him but Mickey just flipped her the bird before taking another long swallow.
“I can’t do this shit with him anymore,” he sighed, pressing the cool can against his temple. “He fucked me up when he broke it off and I ain’t doing that again but it’s fucked up ‘cause I feel like me not answering the phone’s gonna set him back and he said he’s been doing good…”
Mandy sat up at that, “He has been doing good but…are you gonna pick up the phone every time he does something just because you’re scared that he’ll go off his meds ‘cause that’s not healthy.”
Mickey bit his lip and shrugged because he hadn’t picked up yet, had he?
“Ian fucked up, he knows that and you know that but it’s not your responsibility to clean up his mess or even let him clean it up. Take all of the shit that you know were because of his disorder out of it and ask yourself if you’d answer that phone.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” Mickey demanded but Mandy just shrugged.
“You’ve got to figure that out for yourself,” she responded.
*O*
Rob stared at Mickey’s vibrating phone then at Mickey’s face before his gaze shifted back to the still vibrating phone.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself and Mickey just rolled his eyes because Rob was like a fucking cat…Mickey still wasn’t sure how his curiosity hadn’t gotten him killed yet but he was pretty sure that was down to the fact that no one wanted to piss off Sam. “You gonna get that?”
Mickey stared at the redhead; blinking slowly as he kept his expression blank and Rob pouted at him like that shit actually did anything for Mickey.
When he realized that his dumbass facial expression wasn’t working, Rob slumped in his seat, poking at the phone absentmindedly when it stopped vibrating.
“You ever going to answer that? Because it’s starting to traumatize me, I’m hearing it in my sleep.”
“Buy some earplugs,” Mickey groused as he flipped through Matthew’s file.
The kid had been coming in for two months with no sign of pulling another vanishing act and Mickey was man enough to admit that he was actually proud of the teen for that one.
“It’s been two weeks,” Rob pointed out and Mickey barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“14 days, you want that shit in minutes too?” he retorted and Rob frowned.
“You don’t even answer your phone when we call because you think it’s him.”
“Don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about,” Mickey replied just as the phone started vibrating again.
“Alright then you won’t care if I ans…”
“Touch it and lose your fucking fingers. It’s your choice,” Mickey snarled and Rob smirked.
“Yeah that’s what I thought,” he sighed as he stood up. “Answer the fucking phone, Mickey or I’m getting Sam down here and I’m pretty sure that Shannon has a few free sessions that he’d love to share with you.”
Mickey just glared at him until he left with a jaunty wave, shutting the door behind him.
Glowering down at the phone Mickey unlocked the screen only to fumble it when he read the message.
I’m at your apartment.
Fuck!
*O*
It took Mickey thirty minutes to explain to Rob why he needed to leave…twenty of those minutes were spent trying to not punch Rob in his smug fucking face while he laughed his ass off.
By the time he got to his apartment he was beyond pissed and he was fucking willing and able to deck Ian because this shit was the exact same shit that Mickey was done with.
Rounding the corner he narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the other man waiting outside his building.
“Gallagher, if you know what’s good for you you’ll go the fuck home…now!” he snarled but Ian just crossed his arms and raised his head so that he was staring down his nose at Mickey.
“No,” he replied and the sound that Mickey made wasn’t human because what the actual fuck?
“The fuck do you mean, ‘no’? You think this is an option? The only fucking reason I’m down here now is ‘cause I don’t need one of these guys calling the cops on your ass.”
“Why do you care? If we’re done what’s it matter what happens to me?” Ian replied and Mickey stilled, his blood turning to ice in his veins because he was familiar with this Ian.
“You think you’re gonna guilt trip me into saying I forgive you or some shit like that because you’re fucking stupid if you think that’s gonna happen,” he whispered, his lip curling into a sneer when Ian flinched. “I’m here ‘cause if you get thrown in lockup Mandy will be on my ass and I don’t fucking need that right now.”
“You didn’t answer my calls,” Ian tried again and Mickey really wanted to deck him.
“Yeah, what’s that say to you?”
Ian shook his head and took a step forward, freezing when Mickey’s eyes narrowed.
“How do I fix this, Mickey? Just tell me…I’ll do anything.”
“Anything until your family offers you better, right? Cause that’s how it goes. You just need me until you’ve got someone else to fuckin’ lean on…”
“What? Mick, that was never…I didn’t leave you for them,” Ian spluttered and Mickey bared his teeth at him in a parody of a grin.
“You sure about that? Cause I remember it sort of different but maybe getting shot at because I was sticking up for your dumbass has fucked with my memory. You tell me how it went down. You’re the man with the plan. How did all this shit work out in your head?”
Ian dropped his gaze and Mickey snorted.
“Go the fuck home, Ian,” he whispered finally but Ian just shook his head and there were tears in his eyes now, tears that Mickey wasn’t going to look at because fuck Ian for making him feel like shit for standing up for himself.
“I can’t go home, okay? I can’t fucking go home because it’s not my home. It hasn’t felt like my home since I started living with you. It’s just a place for my stuff but every time I go there I keep waiting for you to walk through the door and you don’t…”
“Because we’re fucking done!” Mickey shouted, pulling at his hair. “We’re done, Ian. You asked me to leave you alone, said that I wasn’t enough and what? You expected me to wait for you, like some bitch? I wasn’t enough for you and now that your family ain’t enough for you suddenly I’m the best fucking option? Well fuck you, Gallagher. I might not be shit but I’m worth more than that. I’m not your fall back plan, I’m done being that shit…”
“You were never…”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know what I was or what I wasn’t to you, huh? I told you I fucking loved you, said that shit twice…to you! I’ve never fuckin’ told Mandy that or Iggy or any of those fuckheads. I told you and what did you say to me, huh? Been there, done that? Wasn’t that it?”
“I didn’t mean it,” Ian cut in but Mickey just nodded.
“That’s good for you but I mean this. Go the fuck home ‘cause I ain’t here to be your crutch.”
Something ticked in Ian’s jaw and Mickey focused on that as the silence stretched out between them.
“This isn’t over, Mickey. You mean more to me than you know and we both fucked that up when we were young and I fucked it up being sick…”
Mickey turned his head away to hide the way that his eyes were burning, “It’s not like you chose that shit,” he whispered and Ian didn’t respond for a moment.
“My point is, you’re right. I treated you like I could always come back to you because I guess in some part of my head I could. I thought I’d get myself sorted and then we’d just pick up where we left off. All the shit in between, it just wouldn’t matter but that’s not fair…it’s not fair to you. I get that and the only reason why I didn’t come to see you was because I was fucking scared that you’d have moved on, realized what a fuck up I was and just given up but that doesn’t mean that I’m giving up. You…” Ian paused again and Mickey glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “I love you, Mickey, that’s not going to just go away but I’ll back off because this is your space but I’m not giving you up…not again.”
Mickey dropped his eyes back to the asphalt when Ian walked towards him, tensing his shoulders when the redhead slowed down…
“You were never second best,” Ian whispered and then he was gone and Mickey forced himself to walk into his apartment building without looking back.
*O*
I never said thank you did I? Well this is me saying it, thanks for putting up with my shit and I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to understand where you were coming from.
I used to watch you sleep and that’s kind of creepy but I liked it because I never thought I’d ever get that much.
I really fucking hate my co-workers.
Mandy decked Lip…thought you’d like to know.
You were always my home.
Mickey rubbed at his temple as he read the messages.
It had been three weeks since Ian had turned up at his apartment and he’d been getting the messages every single day.
At first they’d just been apologies and those had been easy enough to ignore but that had petered off until Ian was just talking at him like he thought Mickey would just forget all the shit he’d said and fuck the bastard for being right because it was so fucking hard to hold onto his anger when Ian wasn’t fighting him about it.
Pressing the call button before he could think better of it, Mickey settled back in his seat to wait.
“Hi!” Ian chirped and Mickey scowled at the wall.
“You know we ain’t friends, right?”
“I know you think that but you’ll always be my best friend,” Ian whispered and Mickey pressed the heel of his palm against his eye.
“Why the fuck can’t you just let it go, Ian? Just go fuck someone else, move the fuck on, man.”
“Because you’re it for me, Mickey. Even if you decide that you never want to give me a second chance. You could change your number and move to fucking Alaska, get married and adopt kids or just run off with Svetlana and Yev. It wouldn’t make me stop loving you.”
“Fuck you, Ian,” Mickey breathed and that got him a wet chuckle from the other side of the line.
“You’ve already done that.”
“I fucking hate you, you know?” Mickey choked out but Ian just hummed.
“I don’t care; hate me all you want just…all I need is to know that you’re on the other end of the line, that you’re okay and maybe happy because between the two of us you definitely deserve to be happy…”
“Ian…”Mickey started but Ian railroaded over him.
“Just…you don’t need to answer, just read them, okay?”
“Okay,” Mickey responded because he already did that shit though Ian didn’t need to know that.
*O*
Mickey leaned against the old shed that he and Rob had claimed as the smoking area despite the fact that Sam had threatened both of them that he’d personally fuck them up if any of the kids decided that smoking was cool just because they’d seen them doing it.
Taking a long drag of his cigarette Mikey exhaled and watched the smoke curl in plumes in front of his face while Rob tapped out a beat with his foot.
“You think it’s fucked up that I’m actually thinking of forgiving him?” Mickey asked finally because if there was one person he could talk about this shit with it was Rob…no matter how annoying the other man was.
The thing was Rob could be impartial because it was his job to be impartial and that was what Mickey needed now, someone who wasn’t invested in either him or Ian to give him some advice because he didn’t know what the fuck to do.
Rob snorted, “I’d be a hypocrite if I said ‘yes’ to that one,” he responded and when Mickey glanced at him he found Rob staring at something on the horizon that he couldn’t see. “You know Sam dumped me once?” he laughed but there was nothing happy about the sound. “We were both from the wrong side of the tracks but his family’s Italian…real big on the Catholicism, if you get what I mean?”
Mickey frowned, “Can’t see them being happy about having a gay kid.”
“Oh they were happy, they were happy because he didn’t tell them. I was his dirty secret, the guy he’d sneak out and fuck when he wasn’t fucking the women his family threw at him,” Rob responded and Mickey sucked in a harsh breath because this was hitting closer to home than he’d expected. “Then one day one of his brothers found out that the nerdy kid hanging out around him was gay and they figured they’d teach me a lesson. Landed my ass in the hospital for a month and the whole time I was there…no Sam,” he whispered before pausing and taking another drag from his cigarette. “I thought the worst, you know? Figured they’d found out about him too but they hadn’t, he was just too much of a fucking pussy to come see me because he hadn’t been able to stop them then when he did see me it was to tell me that he was getting married and we couldn’t keep doing what we’d been doing since I was fucking thirteen. By that point he was all I knew. My parents didn’t give a shit about me, he was the only thing I had and he didn’t want me so I left. I left and took my ass to Chicago, didn’t know anyone here either but it was a fresh start and I managed to get a job. I was sleeping rough for a while but I got my feet under me and I was good for two years until he turns up out of the blue, no wife on his arm, no ring on his finger, just his sorry ass and a sob story.”
“What did you do?” Mickey asked after a moment and Rob grinned at him.
“I slammed the door in his fucking face and I kept slamming that door in his face because I was worth something. I’d learned to be someone other than just an extension of him, you know? It didn’t mean that I didn’t still love him because I did but I couldn’t be his doormat anymore.”
“You sure we’re talking about the same Sam?” Mickey inquired. “’Cause the guy looks at you like you hung the fucking stars.”
Rob beamed around the fag in his mouth before exhaling. “He’d fucking better because you know what all that taught him? I didn’t need him to be someone. Yeah, maybe I wasn’t happy but I survived. I didn’t need him for that. Letting him back into my life was a gift and he knows that if he fucks up like that ever again I don’t have to take him back.”
“So that’s your advice then? Make him work for it?” Mickey frowned but Rob just shook his head.
“My advice is to remember that you’re a gift that he’ll be lucky to get and that’s not just advice for him either. You’re worth more than you know, kid, don’t forget that,” he muttered before crushing the rest of cigarette under foot. “Now I’m gonna go torment my husband into staying a few hours to cover your shift while you go sort your head out, alright?”
Mickey nodded because it was the only damn thing he could do.
*O*
I think I was scared to fall in love with you because I never thought you’d fall in love with me.
Now I’m just scared I’ll never get the chance to make you believe that.
“Yo, you gonna actually watch this or keep staring at your phone?” Iggy demanded and Mickey sneered at him to hide the way his hands were shaking when he shoved the phone into his pocket.
“I wasn’t judging you, shortstack, I was just sayin’, I could be over at Juanita’s if you don’t need me here.”
“Alright, who the fuck is Juanita?” Mickey demanded, partially because he was curious but partially to distract himself from the text.
“Mexican chick that lives down the street, you know her, the one who napalmed that guy’s house a few years back?”
“The fucker that had a thing for kids?” Mickey frowned and Iggy grinned.
“Yeah, he’d been trying to chat up her twelve year old sister,” he explained. “She’s fucking explosive and we’re gonna have curly haired blue eyed babies then she wants to send the pictures to Terry. She’s hoping it’ll give him a stroke or something.”
“Jesus, you know how to pick them,” Mickey muttered but Iggy just beamed at him.
“We just fucking clicked, man and she’s good for me. She’s helping me get clean and she wants me to go back to school and shit…I’m not sure about that bit but she’s kinda scary so I said yes. Don’t need her setting my shit on fire.”
Mickey stared at Iggy for a minute.
“What? Have I got something on my face?” Iggy demanded but Mickey shook his head and pulled out his phone, his eyes scanning the message again.
“Nah, look if you wanna go see your chick, go. I’m cool.”
Iggy was halfway off the sofa when he glanced back, “You sure?”
“Fucking go already,” Mickey snapped and Iggy didn’t wait for him to change his mind.
Mickey didn’t even notice because he was busy typing out a message of his own.
Meet me at mine.
*O*
Ian met Mickey outside his building and Mickey inclined his head, gesturing for Ian to follow him inside as he keyed in the code.
The tension between them made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end but Mickey didn’t say a word as he led Ian into the elevator.
He could feel Ian’s eyes on him but he wanted to do this behind closed doors.
The elevator pinged as they reached his floor and Ian followed Mickey to the door, hesitating a bit in the doorway when Mickey stepped inside but all it took was a glance from Mickey to have him stepping inside.
Mickey turned to face him as the door clicked shut, really taking in the dark circles around Ian’s eyes and the weight he’d put on because Ian was bigger now and Mickey wondered if that was because of his job at the gym or because of the meds.
“What we had wasn’t healthy,” Mickey started, shaking his head when Ian opened his mouth. “It wasn’t fucking healthy and we both deserved more than that shit. You deserved more than me getting married and acting like you didn’t mean shit and I deserved more than the shit you pulled at the end. Us breaking it off…that’s what makes sense…”
“No,” Ian whispered taking a step forward but Mickey took a step back.
“We’re fucking toxic for each other, Ian,” he whispered, clenching his fingers into fists. “We should just walk away from this shit because I can’t fucking trust you after that shit with Sammi. What happens the next time you don’t have my back?”
“There won’t be a next time, Mickey, I swear to God. I…I’ll do whatever you want. I can’t say sorry enough but I fucking swear on my life, there won’t be. I’d never do that shit again, I swear.”
Mickey raised his head as his throat clenched and his eyes burned because he wanted Ian to see what the fuck he did to him.
“You’re fucking right there won’t be because this is it. You get one fucking chance because I’m worth more than this shit.”
“You…” Ian whispered, taking a step forward before stopping like he couldn’t believe what Mickey had just said. “I haven’t fucked anyone since we broke it off, I haven’t even looked at anyone because I…are you fucking serious, Mick? Tell me you’re fucking serious,” he begged, tears glistening in his eyes and Mickey clenched his teeth as he nodded and Ian took another step forward. “Can I…can I touch you, is that okay?”
“You’ve done more than touch me before, Gallagher,” Mickey reminded and the sound that Ian made had his heart thundering in his chest a moment before Ian reached out and stroked long fingers across his jaw. The touch was so soft that Mickey almost couldn’t feel it and when he turned his face into it Ian honest to god whimpered and that more than anything told Mickey that he’d made the right decision.
“Can I kiss you?” Ian whispered and Mickey met his eyes as he nodded, then Ian was in his personal space, just staring at him until Mickey tipped his head up.
When Ian finally kissed him, it felt like a benediction, like the prayers that his Ma used to whisper in the dark silence when she thought that Terry couldn’t hear her. Mickey’s lungs felt like they were on fire, there were flames licking at his ribcage but instead of forcing Ian away so that he could put them out, Mickey pulled him closer, twining his fingers in the man’s hair so that he could anchor them both because Ian was shaking like he was breaking apart and Mickey was the glue covering his seams.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Ian was mumbling something against his lips and when he pulled back enough to hear him Mickey’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again.
“Don’t fucking leave me again, please,” Ian begged and Mickey had to kiss him, had to because maybe if he swallowed the words he could pretend he’d never heard them.
It wasn’t a promise he could make, not after the one he’d made to himself so instead of lying he poured all of himself into the kiss, pressing closer to Ian and groaning when one of Ian’s hands dropped to his hips as his tongue curled around Mickey’s.
Then they were stumbling backwards and Mickey broke the kiss as his legs hit the edge of his sofa but Ian was moving again, spinning them around as he sank down onto the seat before tugging Mickey down with him.
Mickey straddled Ian’s legs, one hand finding the back of the sofa and the other clawing at Ian’s shoulder as the redhead sank his teeth into the sensitive spot just below Mickey’s left ear.
The fact that Ian still remembered that that was Mickey’s weak spot had him shaking even as Ian trailed kisses up to his ear, pausing to tug on the lobe.
“I fucking love you, so much. You don’t know, Mick,” Ian muttered and Mickey dipped down to recapture Ian’s lips, whining under his breath as Ian tugged at his jumper until he could get his fingers under it.
Mickey’s hips hitched forward when one of Ian’s hands pressed against his spine before Ian trailed his fingers down, sliding them into the waist of Mickey’s jeans so that he could cup Mickey’s ass and just like that the inferno kindling in Mickey’s gut flared to life, racing through his veins and he hissed when Ian rocked his hips upwards, pressing their groins together.
“Never thought I’d have this again,” Ian whimpered as he clutched at Mickey’s hips, guiding them into a fast dirty rhythm that had Mickey’s head spinning even without a hand on his cock.
Mickey buried his face in the crook of Ian’s shoulder as he twisted his hips, grinding down against the bulge tenting the front of Ian’s sweatpants.
He didn’t think about the fact that Ian could probably feel the tears soaking his skin. He didn’t think about the fact that this didn’t fix everything. All he let himself focus on was the smell and feel of Ian wrapped around him.
He let his mind lock onto the way that Ian was touching him like he was worth something and he was…he was worth more than Terry or even his Ma had ever made him feel like he was.
“I love you, I swear to God, Mickey,” Ian choked out.
“Shut up, shut the fuck up!” Mickey snarled, dragging his teeth across Ian’s skin because this was them. They weren’t soft and gentle like the couples he’d met through Rob, they were fucking gritty and rough but there wasn’t a fucking thing that Mickey wanted more than that.
Ian gasped as Mickey caught the rhythm he was setting, “I’m not gonna. I’m gonna tell you every fucking day, tell you how much waking up without you fucked me up…”
“Ian…” Mickey warned, glowering down at him but Ian was still moving, thrusting up hard and Mickey had to bite his lip as his cock throbbed in the confines on his jeans.
“You’re gonna know what you’re worth to me and if I…if I fuck up again…”
“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey growled, slamming their lips together because he wasn’t going to think about that but Ian’s fingers were in his hair and when he tugged Mickey arched into the sting of it, breaking their connection for a second and that second was all Ian needed.
“You’re it for me, Mickey, I swear,” Ian whispered and Mickey couldn’t respond because his orgasm was slamming into him like a tidal wave, making him curl around Ian’s body as his cock pulsed, soaking his boxers and he almost missed the sound of Ian’s climax but he didn’t miss the feel of it, not when Ian’s last thrust had him jerking like a livewire as his cock twitched.
Mickey let himself stay there; listening to Ian’s panting breaths.
“You try this shit again and I’m fucking you up, you hear me?” he whispered but Ian just chuckled hoarsely.
“I love you, Mick.”
Mickey didn’t say anything to that because it wasn’t perfect but it was a start and it was their start so it was good and that was all that mattered to him.