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They were sitting in Mickey's backyard smoking weed, casually chatting about hot unattainable guys when it happened.
"Oh, and Mr Carson who taught history, he was hot!" Ian smiled.
"That skinny brunette in his 30's? He's a bit young for you, isn't he?" Mickey smirked.
"Fuck you!" Ian laughed, smacking Mickey's chest with the back of his hand.
"That linebacker that got a scholarship to Harvard or some shit," Mickey winked.
"Yale," Ian corrected, "but yeah."
"Those abs," they both said together and laughed.
"Luke Willis had a great butt. Even if his dick was tiny," Ian laughed.
"When did you see his dick?!" Mickey demanded.
"Change rooms."
"Perve."
Ian shrugged unashamedly.
Mickey took another hit. "Lip's arms, Jesus fuck," he commented.
Ian froze. "I'm sorry, what?"
Mickey turned to him and blinked. "Oh, I umm...I said-"
"I heard what you said!" Ian screeched, scrambling to his feet. "You think Lip's hot?!"
"No! I just...mentioned his arms...that they were..." Mickey babbled, not meeting Ian's eyes.
Ian stood up and loomed over Mickey, looking highly upset. "I don't believe this!"
Mickey scrambled to his feet as well. "Ian, it was ages ago!"
"It doesn't matter, you still thought my brother was hot!
"It's not a big deal!
"Are you kidding me?! What am I, some kind of second-rate replacement?! I must be one hell of a disappointment!"
"You're overreacting."
"Fuck you!" Ian scowled.
"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately firecrotch?!" Mickey said, sounding increasingly desperate. "You're gorgeous."
With one last glare, Ian tossed the joint aside and walked off.
"Fuck!" Mickey cursed and slumped back down against the fence, scowling thunderously.
*
Ian stormed into the Gallagher house, feeling murderous. Lip was sitting at the kitchen table and took one look at his face and grinned widely.
"What did Mickey do now?" He asked smugly. Ian turned his glare on him and Lip's smirk widened. "That bad, huh?" He asked.
"It's nothing," Ian gritted out, opening the fridge and gazing at the contents unseeingly.
"It's obviously something."
"Leave it, Lip," Ian growled.
"Oh god, you're not going to give me the chin, are you?" Lip asked, and Ian felt a burst of anger and turned around, grabbing Lip by the front of his shirt and tackling him to the ground.
"What the fuck?!" Lip yelled in shock, his head hitting the floor with a thud.
"I'm sick of living in your shadow!" Ian hissed, his face, millimeters away from Lip's.
"What now?! How the fuck are we back to this?!" Lip demanded, unsuccessfully trying to push Ian off him. "What the hell is your problem?"
"Oh yeah, I'm the problem!" Ian snapped.
"Jesus Ian, tell me what the fuck I did, cus I don't know!"
"It's nothing," Ian ground out, glaring down at his brother just as Carl and Fiona meandered into the kitchen to find the two of them wrestling each other on the floor. Carl rushed over and pulled Ian off Lip and held him back as Fiona marshalled Lip into the lounge room and out of earshot.
"What the hell is going on Ian?" Fiona demanded of Ian as she walked back into the kitchen.
"Nothing!" Ian's phone rang and he pulled it out and saw Mickey's name flashing on the screen. His jaw set tightly, he ignored it and glared back at the lounge room where Lip was gingerly sitting on the couch, rubbing his shoulder.
"It doesn't looked like nothing," Fiona commented.
"It's embarrassing," Ian replied, his eyes not meeting hers.
"Just tell us!" Carl said, letting go Ian's arm slowly and watching him closely for any signs that he might make a move back towards Lip.
"It's awkward."
Fiona raised a questioning eyebrow. "Ian..?"
Ian huffed in defeat. "Mickey thinks Lip's hot."
"What the fuck?!"
"Yeah!" Ian huffed.
"That is awkward," Fiona said and Carl laughed.
"Not helping," Ian growled. His phone went off as Mickey called him once more, but Ian ignored it again.
"Do you maybe wanna get that?" Carl asked.
"No," Ian said stubbornly.
Carl and Fiona both rolled their eyes. "How did you even find out about it?"
"We were smoking some weed and he said he used think Lip was hot-"
"I'm sorry, he "used to?" Carl hit Ian's shoulder. "You're bitching Mickey out for something he used to do?! Like, before you dated?!"
"Yeah but.."
"What about that thing you had with Roger Spikey?
"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT?!?!" Ian demanded, flushing.
"Lip. Duh." Carl rolled his eyes.
"Fucking Lip," Ian growled and made a move towards the lounge room but Carl blocked his way, holding him back. "What's the big deal? So you both had a thing for someone else before you got together, so what?"
"It's different. Lip's my brother!"
"Yeah fine, but it's not like Mickey wants to fuck him now."
Ian flinched at Carl's words. "But-"
"Just get over it Ian, you're the only one Mickey wants now. And fuck you for making me do this girly shit." Carl punched Ian's shoulder, hard.
"Is the drama queen gone yet?" Lip asked, his voice echoing through to the kitchen.
"You piece of-" Ian yelled.
"Fuckin' hang on!" Carl yelled at Lip. He placed a hand on Ian's chest. "Stop being a dickbag and go speak to your boyfriend, he's freaking the fuck out." He man-handled Ian out the front door.
"Seriously, those to are the most successful dysfunctional couple I've ever seen," Fiona commented and Carl laughed.
"I heard that!" Ian protested sullenly, but turned and slowly walked down the front-door stairs. He hated being wrong...especially when his little brother was the one pointing it out to him. He started to trudge back towards Mickey's house, only to find him waiting around the side of the Gallagher house, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette.
"I've been calling you!" Mickey accused, taking one last puff and throwing his cigarette stub aside.
Ian glared at him. "Yeah? Maybe you should take the hint."
"Ian, I'm sorry," Mickey said, holding his hands in front of him placatingly, "it was ages ago, way before you were on the scene. We were just in the same class so I noticed-." Ian's glare darkened and Mickey rambled on. "But you're way hotter. Like, everything about you. Fuck Ian, your ass, your waist, your chest-"
"My arms?" Ian asked dangerously.
Yes!" Mickey said.
"Bullshit."
"No, I-"
Ian raised an eyebrow.
"Man, what do you want from me?! You're the hottest guy I've ever fucking seen and you're batshit crazy and you're mine and you're perfect and I love you, so chill the fuck out."
Ian's eyes softened and his lips curved upwards into a smile. Taking a few steps closer, he grabbed the front of Mickey's shirt and slammed him against the wall and kissed him hard, and Mickey moaned breathily.
Mickey daringly squeezed Ian's shoulders and ran his hands up and down him arms. "Seriously, I got no complaints here," he said when they separated, grinding against Ian a little.
Ian growled and bit his ear and Mickey gasped. "Okay, don't push it."
Mickey laughed and pulled Ian close again and they kissed, teeth clacking, hands roaming under t-shirts and through each other's hair. "I love you, you fucking drama-queen," Mickey whispered.
Ian scraped his nails sharply down Mickey's back and undid the buttons of his jeans. "I love you too asshole," he said and pulled Mickey's jeans down roughly and sank to his knees and then there was no more talking, just moans and gasps and groans.