I've Got Somebody To Love
“Ay, lover, get up. We’re going out for breakfast.”
It was decided on a whim. Ian sometimes makes remarks about doing couple-y things with Mickey. It’s just not his thing. He’s more than satisfied staying home, eating pizza bagels and watching a shitty movie.
But he’s far more open now. He’ll go out to a shitty diner so they can eat overly salty food while the waiter tries to make small talk that he’ll ignore, just so Ian can be happy. And he’ll do it because he loves him. Plain and simple.
“What?” Ian pushes himself up, rubbing his bleary eyes.
“You deaf or somethin’?” Mickey swats at his foot still under the blanket. “We’re going out for breakfast. No pop tarts for us today.”
“My God-do I need a fucking reason to take my husband out?” Mickey is in the midst of grabbing a shirt, and if that shirt so happens to be Ian’s, well so fucking what? He shoots Ian a look of exasperated disbelief. “Jesus...”
“No,” Ian is a little more awake and he props himself up by his elbows. He stares curiously at Mickey. “But you do hate mornings. And people.”
“Yeah, well. I’m doing it for you. Said you wanted to do that sometimes. Get your ass up and let’s move.”
Ian’s grin is blinding. His eyes are all big and doe-y like fucking bambi. Mickey’d be lying if he said it doesn’t make his damn heart beat a little harder. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey grumbles, going into the bathroom to slather toothpaste on his toothbrush. He tries to suppress his own smile, though he’s more than sure Ian’s already seen it. “If you’re not ready in ten, I’m leaving without you.”
Ian stretches his arms, just laying there for another minute or two. “I was having a really good dream, you know,” he hums.
“Oh, yeah?” Mickey says when he’s done in there, his clothes already thrown on.
Ian catches him by the loop in his jeans, and pulls Mickey a little closer. He peeks up at him through his eyelashes, his voice going low. “Fucking mind-blowing blow job.”
Mickey grins, holding onto Ian’s chin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And maybe I'll get something mind-blowing from you too someday."
His words set in and Mickey shoves him away, laughing. “You’re a fucking dick.”
Ian’s laughing too, rolling onto his back again. “You should’ve seen your goddamn face.”
“Fuck you, man,” Mickey says when he calms down, shaking his head. “Ay, you’re laughing now but not you won’t be later when all you’ve got to touch your dick is your left hand.”
Ian just raises a lazy arm to flip him off.
Mickey shuts the door behind him, plopping down on the couch to wait. While he does that, he glances out the window, immediately wrinkling his nose at the sight across at the other side of the building. The couple’s blinds are open, allowing him to see them attempting some kind of yoga position. Thank fuck Ian never actually made him attend that stupid fucking yoga class this place offered.
Yeah, he’s definitely not doing whatever the hell they're doing.
What are they doing? Mickey gets up to peer closer. They’re making a box shape, he realizes with his eyebrows furrowed. Or a square? Either way, it’s weird as hell, them all stretched out and held onto each other’s ankles like that.
Jesus, he could write a fucking book on all the weird ass shit that goes on in this place.
“You ready?” Ian’s out now, running both hands through his hair. It’s grown out a bit since they’ve been here, not like how Mickey’s had been when he broke out of prison, but he’s got a couple pieces of longer hair like he did back when Svet and Yev were still in the picture.
“Yeah,” Mickey turns around, and feels warmth pool in his stomach.
There’s a familiar red and gray checkered flannel he’s wearing over a brown t-shirt. His jeans are dark too, just like Mickey’s. Overall, he looks almost strikingly similar to his fifteen year self, without the fringe, plus his freckles are much lighter now.
And holy fuck does he look good. Ian’s fiddling with his phone, unaware that Mickey’s blatantly staring. At least for a moment.
“What?” He says, puzzled.
And well, at one point back when he was under Terry’s thumb, scared out of his fucking mind and hating himself for who he really was, Mickey would’ve shot back something in response just to get the attention off him.
It kind of hits him right then and there too, even though he’s been open to showing Ian how much he loves him for a while now.
He doesn’t have to hide it anymore.
He’ll never have to go through anymore of his life pretending he doesn’t find Ian fucking Gallagher attractive or some shit. And it’s really fucking great.
Mickey smiles softly, standing in front of him, holding onto a fistful of the flannel. Ian’s hand comes around to rest on the back of his shoulder, and they just stay like that. “You look really fucking good, man.”
“Okay,” Ian says, amused.
“M’serious,” Mickey murmurs. “Reminds me of some kid I used to like back in the day.”
“Some freckly, alien looking fucker. Real annoying.”
Ian laughs softly, kissing Mickey sweetly. “I could probably say the same about the bastard I have to live with.”
“Go easy on that bastard. It ain’t easy to live with your ginger ass,” Mickey teases.
Ian swats at his ass when they let go of each other. “At least I wipe the toilet seat,” he shrugs, grinning when Mickey rolls his eyes.
“For the love of God, we were in fucking prison!”
“That’s no reason to leave piss on it!”
If that couple across the way ever unties themselves, they would see the two of them making gestures with their arms, seemingly yelling until Ian pushes Mickey against the window for a searing kiss.
Breakfast would have to wait.
titsay
vaporwave
romaincrisis
izzy806
