IAN
"Hold the fuck up." Mickey says as I start to make my way up the staircase. I jump a little, due to the startling presence of Mickey not actually having left the house, and turn around to face him. I stare at him attentively, waiting for him to carry on his train of thought.
"Get tested..." He starts trailing off, his voice a murmur as he starts speaking to himself in an undertone. "Fiona said that you should get tested. What- why would you need to do that?"
"Jesus fuck, Mickey. You eavesdropped on our conversation? There are reasons why I leave the room and tell you to stay where you are." I hush frustratedly. I run my hand through my hair and sigh loudly.
"You know that I'm nosey as shit, Ian. This shouldn't come as a huge fuckin' shocker to you." Mickey replies as I nod my head in agreement.
"You still shouldn't have been listening to my shit, Mick. You being an intrusive fucker isn't an excuse." I reply, shooting him a suggestive glance as to be saying You Should Know Better. He rolls his eyes and grunts in response.
"We're like a fucking married couple. Arguing over stupid shit that we already knew was going to happen." He says as I chuckle softly, uttering a "yeah" under my breath.
"But seriously, Ian. What the fuck's going on. What's with the whole 'need to be tested' shit?" Mickey asked, his voice sounding extremely concerned. It makes my lips tug up a little, knowing that even though I've fucked him over he still actually cares. He's not gone. And he's not leaving. At least not yet.
"Um... Well-" I cut myself off abruptly. Should I tell him? I don't want Caleb getting hurt, but I hate lying to Mickey. I mean, he wouldn't be prying into this if he wasn't the least bit worried, and that's a big thing to say about a Milkovich.
I never really thought I'd ever live to see the day where Mickey actually told me that he loved me, but I did. And then he kissed me in public. And then he came out. And then he worried about me. When I first met him he was a rude asshole who only wanted me to fuck, and if I even dared to show affection towards him he'd snap my neck. He's so different from the Mickey he was seven years ago- but in a good way. In a way that no one would've ever imagined. We all expected him to be a raging, alcoholic asshole like his piece of shit, homophobic father. That was the path that Mickey was headed down and we were all waiting for the day where he murdered me for saying something too 'gay'. But I realized early on that he was different from Terry.
________________________________
The day that my mom came back I was torn up. I wasn't really sure how to react so I ran to his house. I was feeling so numb inside and then I reached his doorstep and my face was red and I was trying my hardest not to cry when Mickey answered the door, a rough "the fuck you want" following. I had a million different thoughts going through my mind and all I was able to do insinuate a "I need to see you." I was sure he was going to slam the door in my face, but he didn't. He just looked at me, trying to seem aggressive but failing. He asked me about work and I told him about Linda having my ass and he said he'd meet me there in twenty.
I arrived and ignored Linda's bickering and made my way to the back as she left and Kash wasn't speaking to me at the time, with the whole Linda pregnancy stress and her knowing his secret and all that. I waited in the freezing cold room where I had complete privacy and it was quiet with the ongoing buzz of the freezers. I heard the door open, the little bell ring, as Mickey passed the counter and made his way towards the back. "You can't go back there." Kash said shakily, his voice nervous due to the fact the he was utterly terrified of the Milkovich family and had no clue how Mickey would react. "I'm not here for you so fuck off." Mickey replied, opening the door and locking himself into the back with me.
He could obviously see the panic and alarm in my expression as he looked... Worried? Apprehensive? "The fucks up Gallagher?" He asked. I had no idea how to respond. I just stared at him in shock as I felt tears roll down my cheeks. They came slow and from there they poured down my face like a rainstorm, which explained how I was feeling. I let out a hard sob, followed by an intoned 'shit'. "Hey, hey. It's okay, man. You're alright. What's going on Ian?" Mickey asked me as a pitying expression grew upon his surprisingly clean- for once- face.
"It's my mom. She's back. I know it's stupid. You probably think I'm a fucking pussy for crying. I'm just so fucking overwhelmed, Mickey. She left me with my sister and alcoholic father. She shows up after fucking years of abandonment. She just- she wants to come here again and fuck up our lives and she's already done enough damage and now it's just going to get worse and I don't know what to do or how to feel or what to fucking say and I'm just-"
"Ian, Ian, Ian. Take a fucking breath, man. You're gonna, like, pass out or whatever from, like, dehydration or some shit, man." Mickey said, placing a concerned hand on my shoulder. I could see the sympathy in his eyes and considered how he had to have been through something like this before.
"It's called dyspnea, Mickey." I said in a hushed tone. He rolled his eyes in response and sighed.
"I dropped out of high school for a reason, Gallagher."
I'm not sure what it was, maybe the fact that my mo- Monica dropped out as well, or maybe just how comforting he sounded, but I once again felt warm tears strike my frozen and flushed cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, thinking that Mickey couldn't see me if I couldn't see him. I tried to calm myself, attempted to take deep breaths, but I couldn't. I just couldn't deal with the pressure on my own. And that was when the craziest thing happened. Mickey Milkovich, the seemingly emotionless homophobic homosexual had his arms wrapped around me and was gently pulling me into a hug. He seemed really uncomfortable but what he didn't know at the time was that he was going to be doing this much more in the future. His shoulders and muscular arms tensed when I buried my head into the crook of his neck and he gasped slightly as he felt my arms wrap around his waist. I had control of the situation until he pulled back and looked at me. He exhaled deeply in defeat, knowing that I had witnessed his caring and soft side. I had finally seen that Mickey had feelings and that terrified the living shit out of him.
"While I'm here, wanna fuck? You gave me a pretty good hard on there, SobsMcGee." He said, going back to the regular, in-the-shadows Mickey. But at least this time I knew that I could pull him out into the sun. He wasn't like Terry Milkovich, thank God, and he wasn't as mean and heartless as he was made up to be. Thank God.
________________________________
"Aye, FreckleFlame, was my question really that fucking complicated?" Mickey asks, snapping me out of my daze. I smile at the nickname and stare down at the floor. I'm not sure what got me all riled up that day I punched him and read him off a series of insults- maybe because I was still refusing to take my meds at the time and just wasn't myself- but I'm glad that Mickey didn't change back to his original self. I like the fact that he's caring and shows sentiment instead of balling it all up inside.
"Hello? Are you even alive? Did you just fuckin' die or something. I swear you stopped breathing for a second." Mickey says, lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag.
"My bad. Just thinking. Wait. What was the question?" I ask. I zoned out for such a long period of time that I don't even remember the originally topic of conversation.
"Fucking use your ears and listen, Gallagher. You're not fucking deaf. Why the hell do you need to get tested?" He asks, now in a more aggressive tone.
"Caleb." I force out as my voice croaks from resistance. To late to go back now. "We had sex while he was positive. I didn't know until after we did it; that's when he told me. And we didn't use protection." I finish, my voice trailing off due to the embarrassment that I feel.
I look up to see Mickey's eyebrows raise up to his forehead, and I imagine them detaching themselves and flying away. "Are you fuckin' serious?" Mickey asks in a hushed tone, his voice skeptical but grave. He gives me an earnest glance and an eyebrow raise before stomping his cigarette into the floor. I see him start waking towards the door and I hesitate before grabbing his shoulder.
"Mickey, wait. Please. Don't do something stupid." I plead. He gives me grim eyebrow raise but I can see the correspondence in his eyes as his expression gets softer.
His look is more considerate. The same look he had when I needed him the most. The same look he had when he was there for me. When I realized that he really gave a fuck.