For willow

(this is set a bit in the future. MIckey and Ian have been "together" for awhile. Mickey practically lives at the Gallaghers just not technically. TERRY IS FUCKING DEAD)

Mickey opens the backdoor to the Gallagher, his usual way of entering, surprised to find it fairly vacant. He notices a note on the kitchen table with his name on it. 

Mickey,

    Made some banana pancakes. Tried my best to keep Carl away from eating all of them. Ian's in bed sick. Thinks it might be the flu. :( There's soup in the cabinet if he's hungry. 

                        -Debbie

Mickey smiles at Debbie's note and tucks it in his jean pocket. He opens the fridge to find the batch of pancakes, heats them up and scarfs them down. He wipes his mouth when he finishes, sitting back for a moment savoring the taste. Fuck Lip's method for making them Debbie always makes the best banana pancakes. He places his plate in the sink and climbs the stairs bracing himself for a flu ridden Ian. 

He stands by Ian's door and opens it slowly. "hey" he says quietly stepping in. "Ian?" he whispers. He walks over towards the bed not able to place where that wheezing noise was coming from only to figure out it was coming from Ian. He looks over at his lover laying in the bed on his side, facing the window, paler than he's ever seen him. He puts his hand on Ian's shoulder causing the younger boy to open his yes. 

"Jesus christ, Ian. You don't look good, man"

Ian moans. "Don't...feel-" he's cut off as he goes into a coughing fit. Mickey steps back, concern on his face. 

"Yeah you don't sound too good either" 

Ian moans and turns on his other side facing Mickey, still coughing a bit. Pain etched on his face. 

"what hurts?" Mickey asks, patiently waiting for Ian to answer. 

Ian groans, pulling his covers up closer to him "Everything"

He closes his eyes as Mickey feels his head. 

"Debbie says you have the flu?" Ian nods as he finds himself coughing fiercely again. 

"Fuck that" Mickey says, getting a questioned look from Ian in return. "That's not the flu"

"You a doctor now?" Ian mumbled. 

"No but I fucking know what the flu sounds like and I know it shouldn't sound like that".

Mickey goes into Ian's closet and finds one of his jacket and drapes it over his shoulder as he walks back over to Ian's bed.

"Come on, " Mickey nudges Ian gently. 

"Wha-?" 

"I'm taking you to someone"

"noo mickey.."

"No, no. Come on" Mickey helps Ian sit up and put his jacket on.  

"Work?" Ian asks 

"Nah took the day off." Ian looks at him. "Okay...well I'm going to take it off they just don't know it yet"

Ian rolls his eyes and sighs as he stands up and follows  Mickey, who looks back every few paces to make sure Ian's still standing, until they exit the house. They get into the car Mickey is "borrowing" that day and Ian rests his head on the window, trying to let the cool touch of the glass ease his migraine. He puts his hand over his eyes in a false attempt to block out the sun. 

"Here," Mickey hands Ian a set of sunglasses. "Works well for hangovers. Might help some?"

"Mmm I'd kiss you if I could move without hurting"

"Ha yeah this is the only time I rather you didn't"

Ian chuckles slightly then moans when he realizes that laughing wasn't a good idea. 

Mickey and Ian soon get to a doctor. The male nurse there eyes Ian with what Mickey can only determine as lust filled and he has to resist the urge to follow them and break him away from contact with Ian. He picks up a magazine on the table and starts to flip through it. He rolls his eyes and sits back. 

"Fuck...they could've at least put on better music than this piece of shit" he mumbles to himself.

Eventually after what seems like forever of listening to a  torturous mix of elevator music, baby einstein, and fancy 80's restaurant music he sees Ian walking through the door, nodding to the somewhat attractive nurse from before. Mickey throws the magazine down on the table and walks over to Ian who's talking to the receptionist, a mask covering his face. He walks over towards Mickey, meeting him halfway. 

"Chest infection" he says handing Mickey a piece of paper with prescriptions on it. 

"I knew it" MIckey says taking the paper from Ian and looking at it before putting it in his pocket. 

"Congrats. Can we get the fuck out of here?"

"Alright, alright let's go Michael Jackson" Ian sighs and shakes his head at Mickey grinning and they both exit the office. 

"Hey, "  Mickey starts, looking at Ian. "How's a milkshake sound? That's all Iggy talked about wanting when he had a chest infection." 

Ian sighs as he leans back in the passenger seat of the car "God, I love you so much right now"