An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Additional tags: soft mickey, soft Ian, slight canon divergence, Mickey speaks Spanish, Smart Mickey
Mickey is a very smart man. He knew he would not be able to survive without learning Spanish, not in a cartel in Mexico. Thankfully he found an unlikely friend to help him learn.
The best part of all of this is not the fact that he is actually bilingual now, and therefore better than Lip, but that his 9-inch stud seem to be absolutely incapable of resisting Mickey when he talks Spanish.
Based on this Tumblr post:
š¬ 6Ā Ā š 9Ā Ā ā¤ļø 49Ā Ā·Ā mickey picked up spanish while on the run and is now fairly good at it. ian gets a boner every time he hears his husband c
Mickey had been in Mexico for a little over a month when he met Ignacio. Maybe because the name being similar to his brother's, or maybe it was the fact that everyone called him Nacho (yes, like the food) and did not seem to make the connection as to why that was extremely funny. Either way, Mickey established a tentative friendship with the man. He learnt a few things about him, and did not give much of himself away, but Nacho did not seem to be too worried about that. He always said that what mattered was the "now" or whatever that meant.
Nacho was a Spanish immigrant in Mexico, apparently he had left Spain after he was not able to find a job that could pay the rent of his flat in Madrid (a small one bedroom). He continuously complained about having to leave Spain because of someone he called "expats", Mickey did not understand what he meant by that, but he did pretend to understand. One thing that Nacho said that Mickey took to heart, though, was that Mickey should learn at least enough Spanish to not be blindsided in conversations.
Mickey would be lying if that little comment during the first days of friendship did not stuck with him. Contrary to popular belief, Mickey is a smart man, he could have probably gone off to university if he had not dropped out and reading english books did not bore him half to death. After a couple of days of thinking about how the people around him could be ripping him off and he had no power to stop it because most of the negotiation was done in Spanish, he asked Nacho for help.
And so it started, everyday, Nacho and him would talk half in Spanish half in English until it became just having conversations in Spanish. They were basic conversations, but conversations nonetheless. And later, Nacho insisted to teach him how to read it as well, said that it would help him enjoy the language more. For the first time, Mickey started to enjoy reading.
Before he left for his Gallagher, Mickey only gave a heads up to Nacho. Nacho was the only one that new his intentions and his plan. If there was one person he was going to miss from Mexico, was his Spanish friend. Another lost soul in the middle of Mexico, no connections and nothing to loose.
Mickey did not talk in Spanish in prison. He knew there were people that spoke it in the can, but he chose to use this tool to his advantage instead. Quietly listening to their conversations, making sure to not show any reactions to the topics at hand (even when the plans where damn right stupid). He only remembers mumbling some Spanish when Ian was on top of him, thrusting just right, slow but hard right on that spot. But he is sure that Ian did not catch any of it, he himself wouldn't be able to recall what was said, too mumbled, too quiet, with many moans slipping out with it.
The very first time Mickey speaks clearly in Spanish in the presence of Ian is not in prison, its not even during sex after they both got out, no. It is in the most inconsequential of settings. The Gallaghers and Mickey are having dinner, just another Friday night. It was calm, for the Gallagher's household standard, most of the disagreements had been forgotten about in favour of food and drink (except Lip, who was holding onto sobriety and the kids who had sodas instead of beer). Carl was trying to make one plan or another about how to better deal with his newest love interest, Lip was trying to explain how his plans where not going to impress any girl. Mickey was leaning slightly against Ian, thighs touching, while Ian listened closely to the discussion at hand and Mickey, not so subtly stole a couple of fries from his plate.
Mickey did not want to engage in such a conversation, he was not known for romanticism. But Lip definitely was not the person to ask about relationship advice. He had manage to get Tami to have a kid with him but, in all honesty, Mickey was not sure how that happened exactly or who was the one getting scammed in the situation. It was messy, just like most of Lip's relationships.But even he thought Lip was being a bit harsh on his dismissal of the ideas that Carl had. Yeah, maybe they were not the typical "movie and dinner" kind of date plans, but the kid was presenting ideas that matched his caring personality. The whole thing was stupid.
"Carl, listen, you can do whatever you want, I'm not talking about your stupid ideas of what a date would entitle with you anymore. But I think you should just fucking wine and dine her, complicated gestures just give women expectations" Lip said, exasperated.
Ian opened his mouth to chime in with his own opinion. Judging by his slight frown he was going to defend the younger Gallagher.
"Joder Lip, deja al crio en paz, coƱo" (Fuck Lip, leave the kid alone, jeez) Mickey chimed in, without a paused he continued now in English, "listen kid, do whatever the fuck you want, would I do that shit you suggested? fuck no, but you and I aren't the same fucking person. Lip is just bothered because you got more game than him."
The Gallaghers were stunned into silence, staring at Mickey. Ian, for his part, felt a rush of heat all through his body, a blush was slowly creeping in his face. Ian did not, in any way, connect the concepts of "Mickey lived almost a year and a half in Mexico" and "they speak Spanish in Mexico". He had never thought Spanish was particularly hot before Mickey had justā¦. blurted it out, with a fluency that surprised him. Ian is fully aware that the conversation has picked back up around him, his siblings finding something else to focus on, but Ian could not stop looking at Mickey. He wanted to hear it again, no, he needed to hear it again.
"The fuck you looking at, Red?" Mickey said, smirking at Ian, facing the stare head on.
Ian had officially lost his brain somewhere. He has a vague memory of Svetlana talking about her girlfriend having a strong tongue, and the way Mickey had emphasized the R in the first word he said is making him question whether or not that tongue was as strong as it looked now. He needed that tongue on him, in him, anywhere and everywhere. Ian desperately needed for this dinner to finish quick, as quick as humanly possible.
Mickey raised an eyebrow and continued eating his burger, not knowing exactly what had gotten into Ian, but he can ask him later. Maybe he wants Mickey to wine and dine him? They did have plans for it before everything went to shit, but he did not think that Ian, now, the man and not the teenager, was particularly into the fancy hotels he used to go to when he was manic and they were trying to scam some old fags. Mickey would not feel comfortable in that environment anyway, he would feel judged and would try to flee as soon as possible. But, he could try, if that is what Ian wanted to do, they could try, just once.
Once the dinner comes to an end, Ian is all over Mickey, hastily leading him up the stairs and into the room. Mickey is confused, to say the least, about the sudden eagerness, but he is not going to complain, especially not when it looks like he is going to get the pounding of his life. They close the accordion door and Ian pushes him into the bed. He sits obediently and Ian stands between his legs, looking down at him in a predatory manner.
"Uhā¦ doā¦ do what again, Red?"
"Spanish, speak Spanish, Mickey"
"Oh! That's what got you like this? jeez, I thought I was going to get taught a lesson and you'd be 'convincing' me to take you on a fancy date, like Lip said" Mickey smirked, "en realidad solo quieres que te folle contra la cama hasta que se rompa, no?" (In reality you just want me to fuck you into the mattress till it breaks, no?)
Who would have thought that a bit of Spanish was all it took to disarm his beautiful stud.
From then on, Mickey used Spanish for many different purposes. Some, expected, someone they cross paths with does not speak a lick of English, but they are Dominican so they speak Spanish just fine. Other times, Mickey was in a mission, a mission to distract a certain ginger.
"God, Mickey! how many times do we have to have this stupid argument? I am not going to change my mind! you are not going to the fucking run with your brother" Ian was frustrated, Mickey was trying to convince him that Iggy needed his help with a "business", like Ian did not already know the "business" was a drug or gun run, probably going over state lines because they are that overconfident and have no sense of self-preservation. Honestly, Milkoviches, unless they have someone to protect, they are not going to protect themselves, they will survive, of course, but they will not be careful about it. They are good at gritting their teeth through any situation.
"Gallagher, I swear it is going to be ok. It is not like we haven't done this before, I was fucking born to do this type of shit. You think I don't fucking know what I'm doing?" It was a screaming match at this point, Mickey was starting to get like a petulant child, pouting and shouting things that had no correlation to the matter at hand, but they were tied to deep insecurities he often did not talk about.
"You are an ex-con Mickey! you ain't doing shit like that! too damn risky and I do not want to have to visit you in prison! I don't want to have to fucking sleep alone right when shit was finally fucking good" Ian sat down on the edge of the bed, exhausted, his emotions all over the place.
That made Mickey stop. He looked at Ian, sat there in their bed and he understood. This was not Ian assuming he would be fucking it up. Ian did not truly believe that Mickey would be dumb enough to get thrown in prison again. His Red was just running with the slim possibility and treating it as it was the truth, not because he did not trust Mickey to not get arrested, but because his mind could not get past the hypothetical situation in which he is force to live, once again, separated from Mickey. Mickey needed to fix this and do it quick.
"ohā¦ mi cieloā¦." (my sky) Mickey gently caressed Ian's cheek, Ian melted at the contact, "I won't goā¦ I'll tell Iggy to ask Colin, he should be out already, but, mi vida (my life), justā¦ don't worry about it anymore, ok?"
Ian would be lying if he said he did not feel like he was melting and soft after hearing the little sweet nothings that Mickey kept saying in Spanish. The English reassurance also helped quite a lot more to be fair. He wanted to be mad, to tell Mick that he should have listened to him earlier, but the Spanishā¦ that language on Mickey's voice did things to him.
Mickey using Spanish did not always lead to sex, or was not the main cause of the fun times they usually had. Sometimes, like this one, Ian just felt loved, cared, seen in a deeper level, connected to Mickey. It almost made him feel that the love Mickey had for Ian was so great it could not be restricted to just one language. He would never admit this to Mickey, to afraid Mickey would call him gay and never do it again (even though they were both very gay for each other and there is nothing gayer than Mick's little moans and whimpers when he is being impaled by Ian's dick, but Ian would never tell him that either).
Not long after that argument, they were both satiated and content cuddling in bed after a good three rounds. Mickey had his head resting on Ian's chest, his hand tracing small circles over his heart when Ian softly, almost whispering, started asking:
"How did you learn Spanish, by the way?"
"Got a buddy called Nacho, cool dude, was from Madrid, apparently gentrification is a problem if fucking Europe too or some shit." Mickey didn't even lift his head, just mumbled the response into Ian's chest.
"Waitā¦ but when you first came here, we were in the bathroom trying to clean the scrapes you gotā¦ you didn't understand the Mexican talking, or it looked like you didn't"
"I meanā¦ I was fucking wired up, Firecrotch. I just got out of prison, the fucking cartel is after me and there are Mexicans all over this house. Also, my buddy was Spanish, very different accentā¦ like it better." he looked up to see a very confused Ian. "Listen, imagine that you are looking over your shoulder because you are sure someone is following you, and someone crosses in front of you and starts talking in a thick Irish accent, you ain't gonna get it, you brain is too fucking busy with other shit."
"Ohā¦. I guess makes senseā¦" now that that little mystery had been resolved, Ian's brain latched onto something else, "soā¦ Nachoā¦ your buddyā¦" he was trying desperately to be nonchalant about it but looking at Mickey's eyebrows shooting up his forehead, he could guess he was not that subtle at all.
"Listen, you knowā¦ you know what I was doing while you were in Mexico. If you found someone tooā¦ I'm not gonna be mad about itā¦ I justā¦ I want to know, I guess"
Mickey giggled, a smile stretching over his features, because whatever Gallagher was spewing did not match his very serious and very deep frown on his face. His boyfriend looked as murderous as he could get.
"Take it easy, tough guy. Nacho was gay as fuck, but nothing ever fucking happened between us. We were just good ass friends, I know a fuck ton of shit about Spain now, by the way, the fucker could talkā¦ I'm pretty sure it's a Spanish thing though, took him like three hours to drink a cup of coffee." Mick found himself, not for the first time, missing that easy friendship they had.
"Have you tried contacting him?" Ian knew Mickey was not a social animal, so him making one friend was already a very big deal, he did not want Mickey loosing that friend.
"Nahā¦ I couldn'tā¦ I do know his number, I guess I could download WhatsApp and shoot him a message? I don't know, it's been so long" Mickey reached for his phone on the nightstand. "I don't even know if he still has the same phone numberā¦" he was already downloading the app tho.
"Well, you ain't gonna loose anything for trying, baby" Ian kissed his temple softly.
"Yeahā¦ I guess notā¦ and don't call me baby, man" Mickey didn't actually mind being called "baby", but he wasn't about to admit that to Ian.
"You can't tell me to not call you baby when you are the one calling me all types of pet names that I don't know the meaning of to get away with shit."
"Fuck if I can't, of fucking course I can, 'cause you fucking love that shit and can't resist it" Mickey put the phone down, having already messaged the number.
"Pff I could definitely ignore it, you ain't that irresistible, you know?" Ian's crooked smile came out to play, stretching first from the left side slightly before the right side caught up.
"Are you sure? Mi amor, mi vida, mi cielo, mi cariƱo, bebĆ©, corazĆ³n" (my love, my life, my sky, my dear, baby, heart) Mickey said while climbing onto Ian's lap, grinding his hips onto Ian's.
"Fuckā¦ howā¦ how do you know that manyā¦. Jesus Mick" Ian let a small growl leave his lips.
"Oh, you know, I did a lot of readingā¦ and Spanish literature is full of romanceā¦" Mickey dragged his hips back and forth one last time before standing up, "well, this was fun, but I promised Iggy and Colin I would meet up with them, something about catching up, I don't want to be lateā¦" of course he did not actually have a set time to meet his brothers, but it was a good excuse to tease Ian.
"Shit Mickā¦" Ian pulled him back into the bed by his waist, taking a laughing Mickey down with him.
Ian showed Mickey once again how he could never actually ignore Mickey speaking Spanish. This would not be the only time Mickey would use this, but he did confess, on a later date, the meaning of all the pet names that he had told Ian. Quietly talking into his hair, while Ian rode out a downswing of his disorder, he was starting to come out of the depressive episode and Mickey was now allowed and encouraged by Ian to cuddle up in bed. Mickey could not resist the love of his life, not when he was just laying there, looking at him with pleading eyes to cuddle him.
"you know all those pet names I call you? the little names in Spanish? They mean more than just baby." Ian didn't respond, but Mickey kept talking. "Mi vida, because without you my life makes no fucking sense, you are my life. Mi amor, becuase I could never love someone like I love you, you taught me how to love, sleepyface. Mi cielo, that one means my sky, I call you that for many reasonsā¦ you are beautiful like the sky above, greater than life, safe and constant."
"M tallerā¦" Ian interrupted with a very tiny smile, but a smile nontheless.
"Well, yes, hot stuff," Mickey giggled, "but also, in Spanish, 'cielo' also means heaven, you are my safe place, manā¦ Ā“CorazĆ³n' it means heart, I already told you this, but you are under my skin, you are under my skin and on top of it and imbedded into it. I love you, Ian." Mickey kissed his forehead softly and ignored the stinging in his eyes and the mistiness of Ian's, all of thisā¦ needed to be said.
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