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deanie1987 · 4 years

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My thoughts on 10x8 (LONG and SPOILERY)

Hey how about that episode huh? I have a lot of thoughts about it so this may be...uh pretty long. First off, I really liked the episode (at least the Gallavich parts that’s all I’ve seen so far. I am SO happy that I understand where they both are coming from and I don’t have to head canon anything. That in itself makes this episode much better than I thought it would be. Also, I have been vomiting my opinions all over The Internet so I apologize if I’m repeating myself.

First the good stuff: OPEN AFFECTION AND LOVE AND SMILES! The warmth that their happiness gives me could heat my entire house for a year. It is such a wonderful thing to see. From them arm in arm to holding hands in the diner to that incredible kiss at the courthouse (which has now jumped into my top 3 kisses) it truly is making the season for me. I miss the sex scenes and they don’t get enough screentime, but they feel like lovers to me, not roomates or pals. Finally. I also love that it seems like Mickey is 99% comfortable with it, but there is still that 1% of holding back.

IAN. Oh my god Ian!! *Fiona voice* He is trying so hard. He is doing his best to really communicate with Mickey and maintain a healthy relationship. But it’s hard for him and he’s not good at it and he gets really jumbled and nervous when he’s trying to get his thoughts out (god I relate to Ian so hard sadly.) He is initiating so much of the affection and the declarations and wanting Mickey to know that he loves him. We have been waiting for so long to see it and I’m so thankful.

The acting - Noel and Cam are a gift and they give this mediocre material such depth and emotion. No matter how ridiculous the plot, they know their characters and they take them seriously. I can’t imagine caring about this couple even a fraction as much if they weren’t played by them.

The character consistency (which is an extension of the acting) - Puppy Ian has made a triumphant return but that is tempered by his life experiences. He isn’t naive and idealistic anymore. His confidence and self-worth have taken huge blows over the years and it shows in how he approaches the proposal and then of course in his cold feet (and how desperate he is for advice now as compared to before his diagnosis). It seems perfectly in character for Ian to grab onto an impulsive notion with the best of intentions and then second guess himself and fuck it up the second it really matters. I think he is trying to control his impulses and I DO think that he had the best of intentions with the proposal and the marriage idea, but the self doubt crept in at the last moment like it always does. Having said that, they were fighting and rushed and I don’t blame him for wanting to take a step back to figure things out once circumstances changed. Unfortunately, his impulses once again ended up breaking Mickey’s heart and I appreciate just how good Noel is. The script never once referenced anything other than their current situation, but you could read on his face the toll of years of disappointment and humiliation and anger. My god.

Which leads me to the bad:

The last scene - I know that a lot of people hate the punch and think its out of character for Mickey, but I just don’t. Violence isn’t a first resort for either of them anymore, but it is definitely still in their arsenal. They threw punches in season 5 (Ian being the initiator), Mickey drugged Sammi in order to torture her, they shoved and pushed each other in season 7, Mickey tried to start a fight with one of the cartel guys then as well, he stabbed people in prison for pay, he and Ian both stabbed Chester with no qualms and Ian was prepared to do it again, he and Ian physically fought in 10x3 (they each shoved each other pretty hard), Ian threw punches in season 6 and physically threatened a lot of people as Gay Jesus. They grew up around casual violence. In the first few seasons they both sported cuts and black eyes all the time. They got hit by their parents, by their siblings, by strangers and by each other. It might not be as frequent as it was when they were young, but it is still a form of communication for them both, for better or for worse. Beyond that, Mickey is an abuse survivor who spent the last few years either in jail, on the run or in a Mexican drug cartel. To act as though violence isn’t part of his life anymore just makes no sense to me. He has grown tremendously and I do think that violence against Ian is something that probably horrifies him, but that punch was YEARS in the making. He tried to remove himself from Ian and the situation but when Ian asked him to communicate how he felt about things, you could just see in his face the disbelief and incredulity that after all his words and his grand gestures, that Ian would STILL somehow not know how he felt. So he walked back up the steps, maybe hoping that he could come up with words that would adequately convey the heartbreak, anger, betrayal, loneliness, humiliation and disappointment that he has felt for years where Ian was concerned. But instead he punched him. I don’t like it but I get it. And Ian seemed more annoyed than scared or genuinely angry, and I will be shocked if a big deal is made of it by anyone in the next episode. The falling down the stairs and leg breaking was an accident obviously and necessitated by Cam’s leg, but it wouldn’t shock me if the writers had something like that in the script beforehand. These are damaged guys who grew up and still live in shitty environment full of poverty, ignorance, crime and casual violence. The Gallaghers may be on the edge of upward mobility but they aren’t all there yet and that probably goes double for Mickey.

All things Terry and the Milkoviches - I appreciate that Mickey is no longer afraid of his father, but that whole scene sat terribly with me. This is one of the areas where Noel’s 5 year absence from the larger Shameless universe really stands out and it’s clear that trying to pick up where they left off really doesn’t work. The new Milkoviches are bland and dumb as well.

Ian’s jabs - I’m really ready for Ian to knock it off with the digs about Mickey to Lip. I’m glad that Mickey challenged him about murdering people (although again, seriously is really THAT much of a stretch to think that Mickey has been involved in something a little seedier, though you would think that Ian would know by now.) I hope it comes up again and Ian apologizes for thinking that way about him.

Episode as a whole - I didn’t watch the rest of the episode yet (maybe more thoughts on that if anything inspires me) but fast forwarding through the other scenes made the lack of character interaction that much more noticeable. It is ridiculous that Ian has had more scenes with Tami than with Carl. I hate it.

One last negative I guess. Every scene that we have gotten with Mickey and Ian together have been nearly perfect, but it isn’t enough and I really wish that they had started this storyline at the very beginning of the season and not rushed so much of it. I still kind of want a season 11 with them in it, because there is so much stuff that we don’t know. For example, I find it really interesting that in some ways, Mickey and Ian are somewhat back to their earlier selves. In season 4 and 5, Ian sort of devolved into drugs, prostitution and various scams (mostly due to his illness of course) while Mickey tried to be at least a little bit more on the up and up. They sort of met in the middle of the criminality spectrum. But now they seem to be more closely aligned with their seasons 1-3 situations. Obviously, Mickey is out and Ian has been diagnosed with bipolar, so their personalities have definitely changed since that time. But in the years that they were separated, Ian sort of pulled himself back into “normal” society for awhile with a legit job and vaguely middle class aspirations (at least until he went off the deep end and stopped taking his meds). In the meantime, Mickey was sent away to a real prison and worked for a Mexican drug cartel. No middle class aspirations there. For as much as they are in love and as much as I believe that they know each other better than anyone else, they have changed a LOT and experienced things apart that are hugely impactful to their development as adults. They are coming together again, but not as the teenage boys that they once were, but the products of their experiences mostly while they were apart and I really wish that that would be explored more. I know that fanfic can fill a lot of holes, but I have been so impressed with the way that Noel and Cam have played everything so far that I want to see them on my screen as these characters for as long as I can.Finally, next week looks interesting. I think that the majority will be played for laughs but judging from the stills, the emotion is going to knock us on our asses. I can’t wait.

#Shameless season 10 #10x8 #Review and thoughts #Gallavich

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 6 years

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Another Way. (Pt. 1)

Ian hadn’t planned for it to happen. The blonde boy was older, but not by a lot, and he kept looking at Ian with deep blue eyes that were so close to that perfect blue … they almost replaced the ache in his heart with excitement … they almost reignited the fire the one he left behind had sparked in his belly.

The two recruits trained together and the blonde stood closer to Ian than he needed to. They bunked a few rows apart and would smile their good nights fondly. They were well matched on route marches and longer runs and although Ian did not know his first name, Ian knew that Private Stirling wanted him.

So Ian smiled and he stepped in close when he got the opportunity and when Private Stirling pressed him against the wall in the hallway one night, Ian pressed his lips firmly against the older boy’s. The gut punch had been a shock, but Ian had simply apologised and limped away. His feelings had been hurt but not deeply, up close the blue eyes could not compare, could not replace those he saw in his dreams, not even close.

He went to bed, dreamed of dark hair, ink-scarred hands and thighs that crushed Ian’s hips exquisitely as they rocked together. He woke up in the morning and went to the mess hall for breakfast, relieved that nothing had actually happened between himself and Private Stirling, and that was when the hazing began.

Ian endured weeks of petty torment. His pillowcase was pissed on. His bootlaces cut. His towel removed from the showers. His food knocked from the tray. He fought back, pushed, swore, and punched. He tried to reason and befriend. He did all that he could do yet still it continued. Eventually it started to feel like his mind was fraying around the edges with the stress of it and Ian began to wonder if it was really the kiss that began it, or if it was something more about him, something explicitly wrong that the others could smell.

He told his superiors and they called him weak. He told a nurse and she offered him no more than a sympathetic smile. He was alone in Hell and no one could understand it. Almost no one.

“FUCKING ANSWER THE PHONE!”

Mickey yells, his hands are full of half-counted bank notes and his temper is slipping further with every noisy vibration the little cell makes across the kitchen counter top.

“It’s your phone, asshole.”

Iggy snaps, stuffing his left hand into his pants and scratching his ball-sack elaborately, grinning at his brother before deliberately using the same hand to answer the cell.

“Fucking prick.”

Mickey tongues this edge of his mouth, swift, bad-tempered dabs that irritate his latest split lip and make him scowl.

“Yo. Mickey’s phone,”

Iggy lounges across the counter, half picking at a left over chicken wing before squinting at the device in his hand, shrugging and tossing it back onto the table beside his brother.

“They hung up.”

“Fuck sake.”

Mickey rubs the corner of his eye with his thumb and resumes his count. He has a raging headache and Svetlana has been on at him about getting a cot and a damn pram ready for when the baby comes. Apparently, she can’t just carry the fuckin’ kid around. Bitch.

The phone starts buzzing again but Mickey ignores it. He stubbornly starts counting the cash again, pausing now and then to stack it into piles. There is enough for a baby bed and cheap stroller from his cut of the business and plenty left over to pay Terry rent and board but once that is paid, Mickey is fucked.

“Little bastard ain’t even born and already bleedin’ me dry.”

He grumbles to himself, pocketing the cash for Svetlana and chucking his Dad’s money down beside the old man’s smokes. No one will be stupid enough to touch it, not even Mandy’s new boyfriend, Kenyatta.

The whores are doing an okay trade but the Alibi is a shit location in a shit neighbourhood and Mickey has no idea how to make it work better. He is married and expecting a kid and running a brothel and somehow the brothel is the least fucked up part. That makes him smile a little and he thinks about the other person who would have got how funny and terrible that is. He thinks of the wonky, freckle-faced smile, all reluctant and coy because Mickey has said something snarky.

Mickey gives the phone beside him a single-finger salute as it starts buzzing again, whoever it is can fuckin’ wait. He needs a drink.

Ian worries at a hangnail on his index finger and stares down at the ruined remains of his mattress, the word ‘FAG’ painted in thick smears of excrement beside the numerous stab holes. He rubs the back of the small cell phone almost compulsively with his thumb and tugs at the hangnail too hard, sending stinging pain along the cuticle and causing blood to well up to the surface of his skin.

He feels like he is about to cry and tries desperately to push it back but the tears are welling faster than he can blink them away. He wants to scream. Wants to run. Wants to set the building on fire. He is completely trapped here and every command, every order seems to be another nail in the coffin. No one cares that he is being tortured or that his brain is frying in the hot oil of his misery.

He flips the mattress over and sits on the edge of it with his head in his hands. He texts Fiona and Lip telling them he is fine, telling them he is having fun. He has tried calling the only other person he wants to talk to too many times already but he tries again anyway.

“Yo. Mickey’s phone.”

Ian panics and flips the plastic lid down and grips it tightly to his chest. He doesn’t know if that was Terry or one of the brother’s but it wasn’t Mickey. Why the fuck wasn’t it Mickey? Ian is trembling from head to toe.

He imagines running up to the roof and trying to fly away. In his mind’s eye, his arms spread like wings and he launches himself into cool, clean air, taking off like a bird, never looking back. Never stopping. Free and safe.

He taps the plastic in his hand and flips the phone open once more, hitting redial and waiting. The dialling tone drones on and on and then goes flat.

#shameless us #shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless imagine #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #Another Way fic #fanfic #fan fiction #shamelessly4shameless

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wellimhavinga3outof10day · 7 years

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Vampires, Oh My! - Part 2

Description: (Part One) Vampire Diaries AU. Mostly just fleshing out the ending/last paragraph of part one. (Can probably stand alone?)

Read on AO3

Ian tried his best to stay away from Mickey when he was hungry. Mickey had made his feeding habits very clear – he attacked people; he killed people; he was not one of these only-takes-as-much-as-they-need vampires; people died. So when Mickey couldn’t find a suitable target – a murderer or a rapist or a douche bag who couldn’t take a fucking hint – he told Ian to stay away. Something Ian was more than happy to do when that drought lasted, say, two or three days. Mickey had been claiming to be too hungry for a week and a half now.

Ian paced the living room while police sirens buzzed by outside. Lip looked up from his spot on the couch. “Restless, huh?” he said. “Mickey really get rid of that much of your pent-up energy?”

“Mandy really get rid of that little of yours?” Ian snapped. Not that the comeback made much sense. Mandy had been over three times in the last four days and each time she’d shot Ian a look somewhere between apology and what the fuck is wrong with you. Ian knew she thought her brother was insane – and she was probably right – but Ian just wanted to see him.

“Why don’t you just go over there?” Lip said. “Demand an explanation.”

Ian considered. “Since when do you care?”

“About you and Mick? Never. Fuck that guy, he can burn in hell for all I care. But you? You’re my little brother. You deserve to be happy.”

“By that logic, shouldn’t I be happier if he never calls me again?”

Lip smirked. “Come on. We both know you have a thing for bad boys.”

Ian frowned. He wished there was something in reach he could throw at his brother but no such luck. His phone buzzed and he went for it, hopeful it was from Mickey, saying the dry spell was finally over, but instead it was a Buzzfeed News notification about a recent animal attack. Probably Mandy’s doing.

In a split second, Ian made a decision. He pocketed his phone, grabbed his jacket, and headed out into the night. Since dating Mickey, he rarely went out after dark without the other boy. He knew the things that went bump in the night now. He knew Mickey was one of them and could protect him. But alone? That was a no go even if Ian was military trained.

But tonight seemed safe enough to walk the two blocks over to the Milkovich house. Around here, they were the most dangerous thing, and Ian was more or less on their do not eat list.

Mandy opened the door and immediately frowned. “Ian.” She leaned against the doorframe and blocked his view of the house. “What are you doing here? You know Mickey’s not... well.”

“It’s been ten days.”

Mandy shrugged. “All the more reason for you to stay away.”

“You really think he’d hurt me?”

“When’s he’s starving out of his mind? Yes. I do.”

Ian licked his lips. “Let me in, Mandy. I’ll be fine.”

Mandy stared at him for a long time and then shook her head. “If I thought there was any chance Mickey actually asked to see you, I might let you in. But he wouldn’t do that to you. He likes you too much. So unless you have a death wish, I suggest you get off my front porch.”

“You know I don’t have to be invited in to enter, right?”

Mandy flipped him off with a smirk and slammed the door in his face.

Ian sighed and stepped off the front porch. He waited a good thirty seconds, made a show of slowly walking away from the house before he turned back and walked around the side of the building. He jumped the fence into the backyard, crept through the broken beer bottles, and peered into windows until he found Mickey’s room. The window was open an inch so Ian stuck his fingers in and pulled it up. He hauled himself inside.

The room was empty and just how Ian remembered it. Posters were plastered over every inch of the yellow-orange walls and the carpet was covered in clothing. Ian kicked a t-shirt out of the way and picked up the baseball bat lying under it. True, a baseball bat would mean nothing against Mickey, but Ian felt a little better at least having something to ward off a hungry vampire. If said hungry vampire was even here.

Ian sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone. He texted Mickey where are you and got nothing in return. He heard a toilet flush somewhere in the house and then, with a bang, the door to Mickey’s room opened.

Mickey jumped back when he saw Ian, accidentally slamming the door closed and trapping them both. He looked awful. His skin, normally pale, was now so white Ian could see every vein under his skin. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed, the whites almost gone. Dark circles marred the skin under his eyes, too deep to be from fatigue, more likely because the skin was dying. For the first time since Ian had met him, Mickey actually looked like a dead man walking.

Mickey opened his mouth, probably to say something or admonish Ian, but all that came out was a feral hiss. His fangs protruded past his lips, bit into his own skin.

Ian stared, dumbfounded, too frozen to even raise the bat or back up. “Mickey...” he managed after a minute. He swallowed hard. “Are you... are you all right?”

Mickey fought hard to close his mouth and pressed back against the door. A minute passed in complete silence, then another. “I’m fine,” Mickey ground out. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“I told you no.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Ian said. “I haven’t seen you in ten days. I was worried about you. I missed you. You can’t blame me for—”

“For entering a vampire’s lair unarmed when you know there’s a hungry vamp inside?” Mickey snapped. He turned his red-rimmed glare on Ian. “How fucking stupid are you? This isn’t a high school relationship where I have mono and you come to kiss me anyways because you love me. I could kill you. I’m this close to killing you.”

Ian swallowed hard and looked Mickey in the eye. “I don’t believe you.” He let the bat drop and stood. Tentatively, he took a step forward. “You love me and you don’t want to hurt me. Right?”

Mickey gave him a look like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“Surely after hundreds of years, you have some modicum of self-control?” Ian approached and laid his hands on Mickey’s shoulders. Mickey went tense beneath his grip, like every single one of his nerves was firing. Ian smiled. “Look. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Ian,” Mickey said, his voice shaking, “I’m gonna say this once and only once and consider it fair warning. If you don’t get out of my room in the next sixty seconds, I am going to bleed you dry. Understood?”

Ian licked his lips. “I don’t believe you.”

Mickey let out a broken sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He leaned back into the door and the whole thing rattled. “It’s not about whether or not you believe me, Ian,” he said. “It’s fucking fact. If you hadn’t eaten in ten days and you came into your room to see a juicy hamburger, would you not immediately devour it?”

“Hamburgers don’t have faces. Or feelings. And I’m not in love with hamburgers, so—”

“Which is why I haven’t already killed you,” Mickey said. “But as Mandy has probably told you more than once, my level of self-control is very, very low.”

“Mick—”

“Ian, I’m not fucking around. Get out.”

Ian stared at Mickey for a moment longer before raising his hands in surrender. But instead of backing right out of the room through the window, he undid the top button of his shirt and pulled his collar to the side. “Why don’t you take a bite?”

Mickey licked his lips, his eyes falling down the curve of Ian’s neck. “Ian...”

“Just a bite,” Ian said, soothingly. He took a step closer. “You’ll stop yourself. I know you will.”

Mickey met his eyes, doubt glittering in their blue depths. “This is a terrible fucking idea,” he said. He rested his hand on Ian’s neck, let his fingers flicker through the hairs at the nape of his neck. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I trust you.”

“Bad idea.” Mickey leaned in and took a deep breath. He pressed a soft kiss to Ian’s pulse point, then another lower down. A low rumble escaped his stomach.

“Do it.”

“It’ll hurt.”

“Aren’t there like, endorphins in a vamp bite? Keeps the victim quiet and limp while you kill them?”

Mickey’s teeth grazed over Ian’s neck. “Supposedly. Never really stopped to ask.”

Ian pressed the palm of his hand to the back of Mickey’s head, pulling him closer. He felt the prick of teeth against his skin and then, all at once, a deep pain flooding through his body. He gasped but the sound didn’t quite come out. It took a moment of mind-numbing pain flooding through his whole body before everything went fuzzy and soft. He was vaguely aware of Mickey holding him up, of Mickey backing him towards the bed, of soft kisses on his neck. Then he was out.

Ian woke sometime later. It was still dark out. Mickey lay by his side reading a book. Ian glanced over at him. “Hey,” he said.

Mickey didn’t even look at him. “Hey, sleepy.”

“That hurt.”

Mickey snorted. “Told you.”

“You look better,” Ian said. And it was true. A little bit of colour had come back to Mickey’s face, leaving him looking like a real human who could maybe use some time in the sun. His lips were bright red like he hadn’t remembered to lick the blood off of them. Ian reached out and stroked Mickey’s cheek. “A lot better.”

Mickey leaned over and kissed him on the lips, hard. He dropped his book, not even bothering to dog ear the page he was on. He rolled over on top of Ian and deepened the kiss until Ian stopped breathing.

“What was that for?” Ian asked, a little breathless, when Mickey pulled away.

“A thank you,” Mickey said. “For helping me out.”

“I’d do it again.”

“Idiot.”

Ian smiled and pulled Mickey in for another kiss.

Ian came home sometime before Fiona woke up and stumbled in the entryway. Although he’d spent way too much time in Mickey’s bed, resting up after losing so much blood, he probably should have eaten something before walking home. He leaned back against the door and rubbed the sore spot on his neck. His fingers came away bloody.

Lip barrelled down the staircase and paused when he saw Ian. “Late night?” he joked. Then he saw the blood and suddenly he was at Ian’s side, spreading his fingers and leaning in close to get a good look at his neck. “What the fuck, man. What happened?”

“Nothing.” Ian batted his brother away. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You come back from your boyfriend’s house bleeding and I’m not supposed to worry about it?”

Ian tried hard to swallow the smile that came to his lips but didn’t quite manage it. He pushed Lip back and headed for the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, “Mickey wouldn’t hurt me. You know that.”

“Do I? Because you’re talking about a guy who beat the shit out of me for feeling up his sister.”

“You probably deserved it.” Ian pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and started to chug.

Lip made a non-committal sound – not quite agreeing but not denying it either. He hopped up to sit on the counter and watched as Ian started to make breakfast. “I’m just saying, I don’t like the guy. I think you could do a lot better.”

“You’ll have to get used to it.” Ian fired up the burners on the stove and bent down to look for a frying pan. “Even if I don’t end up with him, if you end up with Mandy, you’ll be seeing a lot of Mickey. So maybe, just maybe, you want to try to get along with him?”

“Over my dead body,” Lip muttered.

“Who’s dying?” Fiona said. She stepped into the kitchen with bed head and her sleep-mask on her forehead. When she saw Ian attempting to cook, she stepped forward and took the pan from him. “What are you doing? You can’t cook.”

“I’m hungry.”

Fiona grumbled something unkind and shooed them from the kitchen. As they made their way out the door, she called, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t come home last night!”

Lip laughed. Ian elbowed him in the ribs.

Slowly, the rest of the house woke up. They gathered in the kitchen for breakfast and Ian forgot about his late night escapades, the lack of blood in his body, and Lip’s vendetta against his boyfriend. At least, he forgot until they got to school and Lip curled his arm around Mandy’s waist, pulling her tight and immediately out of Mickey’s reach.

Ian placed a hand on Mickey’s chest to prevent him from going after them.

Mickey said, “I really fucking hate your brother.”

“He’s fucking your sister,” Ian said. “She’s legal. It’s not a crime.” Then Ian paused. “Actually, if anything, she’s taking advantage of him, because she’s hundreds of years old and he’s seventeen, so...”

Mickey shoved Ian back into the lockers, hard. But then he stepped forward into Ian’s face, leaned in close, and breathed out, “Does that make me a predator too?”

“You are a predator,” Ian said, smirking. He leaned in and breathed in Mickey’s ear. “Don’t worry. I like it.”

Mickey shook his head and stepped back. “You’re a creepy ass little perv.”

Ian laughed and rushed to catch up with Mickey as he walked away. “Seriously though, you and Lip. You guys need to make up. You’re practically family at this point. We should all do something together. Like... get dinner, maybe.”

Mickey gave Ian a look. “All we do is fuck and all they do is fuck but you think if we all got together and had dinner, that would go well?”

“Unless you’re saying you want to fuck my brother and your sister—”

Mickey shoved Ian – probably harder than he intended to – and Ian stumbled into the nearest bank of lockers. Mickey pulled him back by his side without even a nod as an apology but said, “Fine. We can all have dinner together. Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Ian agreed. He pecked Mickey on the cheek and then disappeared into the nearest classroom too fast for Mickey to catch him.

Ian suffered through all of Lip’s protests that night as they got ready to go to dinner. They said goodbye to Fiona at the door – who sternly warned them to actually come home tonight – and walked out into the night. Ian half-wished that they had a car or that the restaurant was closer but he would handle the dark. He was military trained after all and Lip could throw a punch.

Lip had also been beaten half to death last time he’d taken on a vampire but Ian decided to let that slide.

Luckily, only two blocks down they ran into the Milkoviches. Mandy threaded her arm through Lip’s and the two of them walked ahead, heads bent together and giggling. Mickey glared daggers at their backs. Ian took his hand to soothe him.

“Try to get along,” Ian whispered. “For me.”

“If he touches my sister in front of me, I will actually kill him this time.”

Ian laughed even though he knew Mickey wasn’t joking and pulled him along so that they caught up with the other two. Lip and Mandy’s whispers were too low for them to hear even a foot away but Ian thought that was probably a good thing. He cleared his throat and Lip glanced back at them, a feral and mischievous smile on his face.

“Hey, Mick,” he said. “Mandy tells me you actually get straight A’s in school. That you’re a straight up nerd.”

Mandy elbowed him in the ribs.

Mickey growled.

Ian curled his fist in the back of his boyfriend’s shirt, pretending for the moment that he even had half a chance of holding him back. He laughed a little. “Mickey’s brilliant. Of course he’s brilliant. But I don’t think anyone with eyes would call him a nerd.” When Lip shrugged, Ian added, “Plus, if everyone getting good grades is a nerd, what does that make you?”

Lip glared. “I don’t study.”

“Neither do I,” Mickey said.

The two glared at each other for a long moment as Mandy shot Ian a hopeless glance. He wasn’t quite sure if she was on his side in this – after all, she had problems with Mickey – but at that moment she seemed to be.

“Let’s change the topic,” Ian said. “How does everyone feel about—”

“Celibacy,” Mickey suggested. He shot Lip a grossly exaggerated grin. “How does everyone feel about celibacy?”

“Oh god, Mickey. Shut the fuck up.” Mandy groaned.

“What? I just think that discussions of things like celibacy and safe sex and the safest option always being abstinence should be part of our daily lives. And I don’t think it’s a radical idea to think that not having sex strengthens a relationship and—”

“Yeah, because you’re celibate,” Mandy snapped.

“It’s different.”

“What? You’re a guy so you can be a slut?”

“I can’t get fucking pregnant now, can I?”

“Wouldn’t it be a different fucking world if you could?”

“Oh! The restaurant!” Ian exclaimed and pulled Mickey hard into the building. It wasn’t the restaurant they had planned on going to – in fact, it was much fancier even if it wasn’t fancy at all, just an average chain restaurant – but he needed something to cut the conversation short before the fangs came out and Mickey and Mandy fought each other to the death. He rubbed Mickey’s arm soothingly as he stopped at the hostess’ podium and asked for a table for four.

“Can you fucking afford this place?” Mickey whispered.

Ian glanced at him and shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard.” They followed the hostess through the maze of tables. “You’re hundreds of years old. Don’t you have any money saved?”

Mickey snorted. “I look like a fucking teenager and a thug. Who the fuck do you think is giving me any sort of money?”

Ian shrugged and took a seat at the table. Lip, like a perfect gentleman, pulled the chair out for Mandy and Ian silently thanked him for having some modicum of respect for the situation. The group fell into an awkward silence as the hostess set down the menus and then they went on to pretend to examine them closely. Ian could feel Mickey’s knee shaking under the table. He glanced up and saw Lip giving him a questioning look somewhere along the lines of what the fuck is wrong with your boyfriend. Ian shrugged.

After a couple of minutes, Mickey leaned in close and whispered in Ian’s ear, “Has it occurred to you that we can’t eat real food without getting really fucking sick?”

Ian glanced at him, shocked. “I’ve seen you eat.”

“Yeah. Fries. Or a soda. Nothing big.”

Ian cursed under his breath and looked over at Mandy, who seemed perfectly calm.

“Get a steak rare and it’s all the same to her,” Mickey whispered. “But me?”

Ian licked his lips. “Order something you can move around a bit and just pretend to eat. You’ll be fine.”

Mickey nuzzled closer and Ian felt his breath catch as Mickey’s lips moved against his throat. His pulse started beating harder and Mickey let out a small sound of pleasure. “Yeah and what about my hunger?” Mickey whispered, just the edge of a laugh in it. “What are you gonna do to keep me happy?”

“Be civil,” Ian said, trying hard to keep his breathing under control, “and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Good.” Mickey nipped at Ian’s neck – just a graze of his regular, human teeth – and fell back into his chair.

“What were you saying about celibacy earlier?” Mandy said.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Ian said, too quick for Mickey to respond. “Like... school. How’s school going for everyone?”

“You sound like Fiona,” Lip said.

Ian smirked. “Thanks.”

“Let’s talk about your family,” Mandy said. She smiled wide. “Lip’s barely told me anything.”

Taking the easy out, Ian started to ramble off the names of his siblings in quick succession. Then he went into more detail about each of them, pausing when Lip wanted to add something and getting into petty, playful arguments with his brother about what their siblings were or weren’t good at. Mandy laughed a couple of times and Mickey even cracked a smile. His leg stopped moving under the table and he let his knee sway outwards to tap against Ian’s thigh.

They ordered and the food came and no big arguments broke out. Ian still felt like he was playing mediator, like he was in a courthouse or something, but he managed to avoid any big disasters. The ones he slipped up on were usually Mandy/Lip disasters, disasters that could have been worse if Mickey noticed, but Ian only slipped up when Mickey was focused on something else – ie. nuzzling Ian’s neck, running his hand along Ian’s thigh, or murmuring dirty things into Ian’s ear.

When they finished their meals, Mandy insisted on dessert. Mickey grunted and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before getting up. When he was a few steps away, he sent a pointed glance back at Ian who quickly scrambled to his feet with some lame excuse and headed to the bathroom after Mickey.

He didn’t see Mickey in the hall so he assumed he was already inside. He stepped into the bathroom cautiously, looking for Mickey, expecting him to be waiting in a stall, but then he was grabbed by the collar and slammed into the far wall. He laughed a little as the breath came out of him and Mickey pressed in close, his whole weight against Ian, his lips searching and soft against the long expanse of Ian’s neck.

“We should get in a stall,” Ian whispered, still laughing. He carded his fingers through Mickey’s hair as the other boy undid the top two buttons of Ian’s shirt. “Someone could come in.”

“I’ll be fast.” Mickey’s fangs slid out and skidded across Ian’s skin. Ian felt his knees go weak, Mickey’s hand on his ass the only thing keeping him upright. In a garbled voice, Mickey added, “You know how fast I can be.”

“I don’t think that’s something to... ah... brag about.” Ian bit his tongue through the pain of being bitten but soon it faded into a happy high. If he focused, he could stay conscious for it, he could feel the heavy, strong weight of Mickey against him, pushing him into the wall, letting him grind against his thigh. Ian moaned a little at the feel of Mickey’s teeth in his neck and the friction between his thighs. He tried to move more but he barely had control over his limbs.

“Mick...” Ian’s vision stated to blur, spot black around the edges. “That’s enough. That’s... enough.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Ian felt his heart give one fleeting, panicked beat before relaxing again. Mickey didn’t even notice.

Then, “Get a fucking room,” in Lip’s annoyed, disgusted voice.

Mickey pulled off but didn’t turn. He licked his lips, his teeth, and met Ian’s eyes. Ian tried his best to focus, to stay on point, knowing there was little he could do at this point but keep it together. He nodded at Mickey who, after brushing his fingers across Ian’s neck, turned to face Lip.

“Room’s a little far away,” Mickey said, lazy. “Not like you never fucked my sister in a bathroom.”

“I use the stalls,” Lip replied. “I’m classy.”

Mickey opened his mouth – probably to say something rude – and Ian grabbed onto the front of his shirt, a little too hard, and stumbled forward.

Lip frowned. “Are you okay, man?” He stepped closer. “Shit. Is that blood?”

“What? No.” Ian raised his hand to his neck and the wound there and found it still bleeding. Shit. It usually didn’t do that. “No, it’s just—”

“It’s fucking blood!” Lip shoved Mickey backward. Ian stumbled forward and Lip caught him by the shoulders, worry etched all over his face as he started to examine the wound. With a curse, he whirled on Mickey and almost dropped Ian. “What the fuck? Why did you do this to him? Why are you hurting him, you fucking piece of shit?”

“He’s not... hurting me.” Ian leaned hard on Lip’s shoulder, unable to figure out why his legs weren’t coming back to him. How long did he usually pass out for after this? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure. “Lip, come on, please, we’re having a nice dinner.”

“You expect me to just let it go that he fucking split your neck in two?”

In two? Lip had to be exaggerating.

“Look, man,” Mickey said, holding his hands up in surrender, “you’ve got no clue what’s going on here, okay? How about you just leave us the fuck alone?”

“Leave my little brother alone with the guy that just made him fucking bleed? Are you fucking kidding me?” Lip tugged Ian hard and said, “We need to go.”

“Lip, we can’t... fuck, Lip, uhh...”

“Are you high?”

“Am I...” Ian let the question trail off as the room spun around him. He almost fell despite Lip’s grasp on his shirt and was grateful to feel Mickey’s hand on his back, keeping him upright.

“Yes, he’s high,” Mickey said, his voice rough and uncomfortable and filled with something nearing panic. “I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to fuck and he was game and we probably shouldn’t have gone kinky in a public bathroom but we did. He’s fine. You just gotta let me take care of him.”

Lip snorted. “Why would I trust you with fucking anything? Ian is high and bleeding.”

“You need to trust me with this.” Mickey’s voice got all soft and smooth. “Go back to Mandy. Tell her we left. Eat dessert, pay the bill, and leave. Ian is safe with me.”

Lip nodded and Ian felt him let go. A few seconds later, the door slammed.

“You compelled him?” Ian said. He hoped he sounded indignant. He doubted he did.

“I had to.” Mickey turned Ian to face him and examined him carefully. His fingers brushed over the wound and Ian winced, surprised by how much it hurt. “Fuck. Sorry. I was really sloppy.”

“Is my neck really torn in two?”

Mickey snorted. “Don’t think you’d be alive if that was true.” He slung his arm around Ian’s waist and pulled him tight to him. “Turn your head into my shoulder and try to move your feet like you’re not drunk off your fucking ass, okay? We still have to get out of here safe.”

Ian nodded and let Mickey lead him slowly out of the restaurant. They stumbled all the way back to Mickey’s house and Mickey laid Ian down in his bed. After rummaging through the house, Mickey came back with orange juice and a box of cookies. He slung them at Ian and sat a few feet away to watch him eat.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey said.

Ian, less out of it now, wrinkled his nose. “For what?”

“For doing that in public. For doing it at all.”

“You know I don’t mind. I kinda like it.”

Mickey shook his head. “It’s stupid. I’m gonna get addicted to you.”

“Good.”

Mickey’s eyes flashed with amusement. He smiled, soft and totally unlike him. “I’m just really glad you’re okay. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to think I’m hurting you.”

“Hey.” Ian tried to reach for Mickey and failed. He let his hand drop into the empty space between them. “You’re not hurting me, okay? And don’t worry about Lip. He’s never liked any of my boyfriends and he doesn’t know you and you don’t exactly make it easy for him to trust you.” Mickey snorted and Ian continued, “But if I like you, if I love you and I’m happy, then Lip’s not gonna do anything but be a dick, okay? Don’t listen to him. You’re not hurting me. I’ll make sure Lip knows that.”

“I love you too,” Mickey said, soft.

Ian wiggled his fingers. “Come here.”

Mickey stepped across the room and took Ian’s hand in his. Ian tugged him closer, forced him to sit down on the edge of the bed. Ian smiled up at him. “You’re a good boyfriend, Mickey Milkovich.”

“In three hundred years, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.” He leaned down and pecked Ian on the lips. “Get some rest. I’ll stay and watch you.”

“Thank you,” Ian whispered. He closed his eyes.

#gallavich #shameless #mine #written prompts #crossover

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years

Text

The Sand In Your Shoe (5)

Fiona takes one look at her little brother’s face and her heart sinks.

“Ian.”

She says his name with so much tenderness it nearly sets him off again but he manages to bite the inside of his lip and shake his head slightly

“I got that cheap shit shampoo in my eyes!”

“That was unlucky.”

Fiona’s own eyes are large and round with concern but she lets him have his white lie and Ian feels a rush of affection for his sister that reminds him of how things used to be when they were both kids.

“Yeah, sucks. Thank you for my card.”

“You’re welcome, sorry there wasn’t a cheque in it. Still haven’t won the damn lottery!”

It is a weak joke but it breaks the miserably tension and Ian manages to smile and even laugh a little. Fiona pours the coffee and Ian cuts his cake. He took too long in the shower and Carl has wandered off on some errand promising to be back soon, Debbie has taken Frannie outside to play and Liam is back in front of his Play Station.

Ian delivers Liam some cake and then joins his big sister at the table. She looks tired but still so beautiful it makes his heart ache and Ian impulsively catches her hand in his and kisses it.

“What the fuck?”

Fiona laughs and ruffles his hair, shorter than he’s had it for a couple of years but still long enough that it needs smoothing back down when she’s done.

“You’re just so fucking gorgeous and I can’t believe I don’t tell you more often.”

“Wow. Thank you. You know it’s your birthday not mine ,right?”

Ian smiles and gives her hand a squeeze before reaching into his jeans pocket and producing a packet of cigarettes, slapping them on the table and winking at her

“That’s why I’m treating myself to a pre-lunch smoke.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, both lost to their own thoughts and grateful for the temporary silence amidst the chaos. Ian drums his fingers anxiously against his leg and presses his feet into the floor to keep from tapping them.

“I saw Yevgeny Milkovich today.”

He tries to sound casual but overshoots and his voice wavers, hitting a high note that smacks of a panic attack in the making.

“Jesus. That must have been weird.”

“Yeah, he’s like seven or eight now.”

Ian knows exactly how old Yevgeny is but he’s trying to cover up his interest for fear of Fiona holding something back. He doesn’t know exactly what but maybe something she’s heard from Vee…

“Yeah. I’ve seen him around with Svetlana.”

Fiona is watching Ian for reaction and he deliberately keeps his face as neutral as possible.

“He looks like Mickey, doesn’t he?”

She offers finally, with an audible sigh that makes Ian wince. He knows he is being subtle as a brick but the expression on Fiona’s face suggests that this is something she has been waiting on for a while and it makes Ian feel predictable and a bit pathetic. For a moment Ian thinks about saying he didn’t notice and changing the subject to something lighter but he doesn’t really want to. Something has awoken in him, something that has lain dormant for so long that Ian had almost forgotten it was there at all and he means to follow it and see where the feeling takes him.

“Yeah he does. Svetlana said that Mickey still sends money, you know?”

“Good. It’s the least he can do!”

Fiona’s brows knit together and she shakes her head. She never had a very high opinion of Mickey to begin with and the fact that he sends money for a son he never sees fails to impress her all that much.

“I know it’s just … I hadn’t thought about him properly for a while and it’s good to know he’s still …”

“Alive?”

“… Free.”

Ian tapped the ash off his second cigarette and smiled weakly at her which only earned him another sigh.

“You know you gotta leave all that in the past, Ian.”

“I suppose … I mean … I just fucked it all up so badly, Fi. I had so much of my own shit going on and with the meds and the bipolar I wasn’t myself or like, the version of myself I wanted to be, and …”

“Stop. Jesus! You’ve got your life together! You’re doing great with your EMT job, you have your own apartment and your own friends. Your meds are stable, you’re healthy…”

“I know. I know all that and I’m happy…”

“Then why risk it for an old boyfriend you haven’t even heard from in years?”

“I’m not going to! I just … forget it.”

Ian shook his head again and closed his eyes. It was easy for him to get pissed with Fi, to resent her controlling ways and know-it-all attitude but the truth was that she had kept them going, sacrificing her own teens and twenties to ensure that all of them were seen right, or as right as possible. She had done so much for them, fought for every single one of them and if she was bossy then she had damn well earned that right.

“Ian, I know you loved Mickey but he is doing whatever the fuck he is doing and I don’t mean to be cruel, but he probably wouldn’t care about you at all now. Probably has a whole host of Mexican bang-buddies at his disposal.”

Ian’s head shoots up, green eyes wide and angry.

“Mickey never fucked around, Fiona. I was the one who did that. I did porno and I cheated on him. I was the one who acted like I didn’t care.”

“Oh please! I know Mickey tried really hard when you first got sick, I never denied that and it was good of him but his way of showing ‘care’ was attempting to murder Sammi and busting your face when you pissed him off. You gotta leave this alone Ian!”

Ian wants to argue with her, tell her that he busted Mickey’s face too and that if he had the guts, he would definitely have killed Terry Milkovich but decides to leave it alone. Fiona is looking pretty upset with him and he can’t really blame her. Ian doesn’t even know why he is dragging all this up or what his end game is. He just knows he feels something in his gut and that isn’t much to go on and certainly not something to fight with his sister over.

“I’m sorry, Fi. I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass. I think just seeing Yevgeny … you know. I kidnapped that kid once!”

Ian grins and tries to make a joke of it all and after studying him a moment longer, Fiona gives in and laughs to.

“Fuckin’ Gallaghers.”

Ian leaves the Gallagher house towards dusk, he is feeling much better and his hands have stopped shaking. Mickey is still on his mind, as is Yevgeny, but it is a manageable level of background noise now. He can cross the road, notice his shoelace is undone and make greetings to people he recognises without having to bring himself back from his thoughts first and that is important.

Ian has learned to live a controlled life, monitoring himself carefully to ensure his moods are not swinging unduly one way or the other. If he wants to make an impulse purchase he tries to stop and think for at least five minutes, even if it is only a few bucks. He takes his meds as regularly as he can, he does mess up by an hour here or an hour there sometimes and often forgets to eat with them but he manages reasonably well and even Fiona has stopped asking him if he’s doing it right.

In a way, now that he has it under control this lifestyle suits him okay, he always liked neatness, order and rules. It’s kind of why he wanted to join the army so badly as a kid. He used to feel highs and lows that were not just part of his ‘disorder’ but part of his very soul. Now he tends to crush those feelings down when they arise and has become good at doing so. The only thing Ian truly misses is feeling a regular sense of curiosity. He used to be curious to the point of nosy and now he just doesn’t care enough about most things to wonder.

He realises that he is heading toward the Alibi and pauses mid-stride, his boots scuffing along the sidewalk. The Alibi used to be such a normal part of his routine, not that he was ever a big drinker but it wasn’t weird for him to drop in there to see Kev or find Frank or Lip. Ian thumbs his lip as he considers his options, a habit he doesn’t remember picking up but can’t shake somehow.

He wants to convince himself that it is nostalgia or the desire to see Kev that is sending him there but he knows it isn’t, he knows Kev hasn’t been there for quite some time. He is aiming to see Svetlana.

The alibi looks like shit but then it always did and Ian mostly ignores the old bar flies, lifting his hand in greeting to the ones who look up from their beer and briefly make eye contact with him.

“Is Svetlana here?”

The barmaid looks him up and down and Ian tolerates this with all the good grace he can muster. The blonde woman appears to make up her mind finally but doesn’t take her eyes off Ian as she yells

“LANA!”

Svetlana appears a few minutes later, her face sharp and watchful transforming into a small smirk when she sees Ian.

“He still says ‘Hello’. I have not told him Carrot Boy rejects him again yet.”

“Is he OK?”

“How in fuck should I know. I tell him of Yevgeny. He sends money for Yevgeny. Is all.”

Svetlana is eyeing Ian with something that could almost be amusement and Ian wonders if he is barking up completely the wrong tree. He weighs his options but the gut feeling which has been pushing him since looking up into Yevgeny’s eyes from the tarmac this morning won’t quit nagging at him and Ian decides to lay everything on the table. If Svetlana laughs at him, so be it.

“I haven’t thought about him in a while. Now I am. I just want to know he is alright.”

“You have not thought of him?”

Her voice is incredulous, almost angry and Ian feels a blush creep up his neck

“It was complicated.”

“You went crazy, he love you. You steal baby, he love you. You too weak to visit in prison without payment, he love you. Not complicated, just stupid.”

Svetlana has stepped behind the bar as she speaks and Ian watches her pull two shots of vodka, she pushes one across the bar towards him and slams the other down her throat before looking him dead in the eye.

“You are selfish little copper shit, no idea of love.”

“And you’re a fucking rapist. Don’t you dare lecture me on love”

The anger comes hot and fast and Ian slams his palm down on the bar hard enough to bruise the heel of his hand. Ian is almost as shocked as Svetlana at the outburst but it wipes the haughty look off her face and that gives him a small sense of satisfaction. She recovers quickly though and Ian crosses his arms over his chest protectively waiting her to strike back.

“So we both screw him, just different ways, hmm?”

Svetlana pours another drink and shrugs cooly.

“He is OK. We spoke a little while. He is OK.”

“Will you tell him I say Hello back? You don’t have to but …”

“I will tell him. He may not care but I will tell him.”

“Thank you.”

Ian lets his breath out shakily and sips at the vodka she has given him. He doesn’t know if it is a gift or if he will be asked to pay for it. He doesn’t mind either way really. The feeling that brought him here is draining as well as encouraging and he feels ready to sleep.

“Give me your number.”

Svetlana says suddenly and takes her phone out of her bra, gesturing impatiently to Ian

“Why?”

“In case he cares.”

Those four words make Ian’s mouth instantly dry and his palms slick with sweat. His heart hammers in his chest and he feels a wonderful mixture of fear and hope rise up from the kernel of feeling in his gut, unfurling like a flower stretching out to reach the dawn light. He hasn’t felt anything like this in so long and it is almost painful in its intensity. A distant part of him knows this feeling, it is like returning to a childhood home after living away for fifty years and Ian taps his number into Svetlana’s phone before he can lose his nerve.

“Why would you do this for me?”

“Not for you. What I did … it got me my Yevgeny so I cannot regret it. But perhaps a small debt is owed to his father. A very small one.”

Svetlana smiles slightly at that and Ian feels like his feet have been lifted from the ground and he is floating above himself slightly. The vodka is working far too quickly, he shouldn’t have had it. He needs to leave.

“Thank you anyway.”

He mumbles and staggers out of the bar before Svetlana can say anything further. Ian runs until his breath is like fire in his throat and his legs tremble uncontrollably as he sinks to the ground, sitting on the curb with the sort of oddly graceful clumsiness that only big men have.

*In case he cares*

Fuck. Birthdays make him crazier than normal!

Ian grins up at the darkening sky and wonders when he’ll find out if Mickey Milkovich still cares or not.

#shameless #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #gallavich #Gallagher #Milkovich

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wellimhavinga3outof10day · 7 years

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Lost Lullabies - Chapter Eighteen

Description: Mickey Milkovich, former child star turned action movie star, runs into his old co-star, Ian Gallagher, out on the street in the middle of a winter night. When Mickey takes him in, he doesn’t realize that Ian has the power to completely turn his new life upside down.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Read on AO3

Ian jumped back as Mickey threw his phone at a wall. “Whoa,” he said. He fought the urge to raise his hands in surrender, his heart suddenly beating fast. But he’d dealt with mad men before. He’d dealt with men much worse than Mickey when they were mad. Taking a deep breath, Ian said, “Mick? What happened?”

Mickey shook his head and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. A sound like a smothered laugh escaped him. “Fuck. Fuck, Ian. Just... fuck.”

“What did Liz say?”

Mickey sniffed. He raised his eyes to meet Ian’s and Ian felt his blood run cold. If the director could see the way Mickey was looking at him now, he wouldn’t have to yell at them for looking in love. He’d have to yell at them because Mickey looked like he was going to kill him. Mickey shook his head, said nothing.

Ian swallowed hard. “Does someone know?” It was the worst thing he could think of, the only thing that would make Mickey this upset, this fast. “It doesn’t matter. They’re just rumours. You’ve squashed worse.”

“It’s not just rumours.” Mickey chewed on his lip. “They have pictures.”

“From where?”

“Outside the bar. The fucking stupid mistletoe.”

Mickey’s phone started to buzz from its place on the floor. His glare was downright murderous.

“Does it really...” Ian took a deep breath. He wanted to rewind the day until they were back in bed and just stay there under the covers where it felt like the world was so far away. There he didn’t have to think about how deep in the closet Mickey was or how far away they were from being a real couple. From Christmas Eve until yesterday, things had been perfect. Ian wished he could blow that bubble around them again. “Does it really matter?”

Mickey’s glare moved targets. “Does it really matter? Are you fucking kidding me, Ian?”

“No one cares anymore, Mick. We’re not children on the Disney channel anymore. We’re adults.” Ian fought to keep his voice steady, strong. It was hard when Mickey was looking at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head. “Hollywood isn’t the same homophobic place it was a decade ago. Being gay isn’t that big of a deal. In fact, it’s fucking fashionable at this point.”

“It’s not who I am, Ian.”

“It is who you are! You’re gay, Mickey. You’re gay.”

“I know I’m fucking gay, you stupid shit.” Mickey sighed and started to pace. “I’m saying the person you’re talking about, the fashionable gay star on the red carpet, that’s not me, Ian. That’s not my image. That’s not what I do for a living.”

Ian opened his mouth to respond, then had to admit, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Gay actors, Ian. That’s what I’m talking about. Gay actors get the shitty sitcom roles and the side roles in rom-coms and the one or two that are really good and shut their mouths about their sexualities? They manage parts on crappy teen dramas.” Mickey shrugged. “That’s not the kind of acting I do. I’m an action star. People pay to see me shoot guns and fuck women. They don’t wanna watch that shit knowing I’m picturing your pasty white ass instead of some chick’s vagina.”

“Change your image, then.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not? You fucking hate your job, Mickey. You hate being an actor, you told me yourself. So what does it matter if you’re getting paid to shoot a machine gun on a movie screen or kiss a couple guys in a shitty sitcom? It’s still money.”

Mickey shook his head, eyes crinkled in surprise and disgust. “I don’t want to kiss other guys, Ian. I want to kiss you.”

Ian sighed and crossed his arms. “Just not on a magazine cover?”

Mickey licked his lips. “I don’t think you understand how much of my career is built on reputation. I get roles because casting directors think I’m still some Southside trash bully who’ll be convincing on screen as a gangster. If I come out, if people see these pictures... no one’s gonna believe that coming from me. No one’s gonna think I’m tough or badass or can kill a guy with a bottle opener.”

“You can kill a guy with a bottle opener.”

“Not the point.”

Ian settled back against the wall, his eyes following Mickey as he walked the length of the room again and again. He knew their five minutes were up. Any second now some poor PA would knock on the door and get the full force of Mickey’s wrath.

“I don’t know what any of that has to do with being gay,” Ian said. “Gay men aren’t automatically weaker.”

“They are in Hollywood.”

“But that’s such bullshit! Don’t you want to change the scene? Don’t you want to show them your sexuality doesn’t define who you are?”

“You think I’ll have a chance?” Mickey laughed, short and bitter. “The change will be overnight, Ian. The pictures will hit and suddenly all of the movie roles I’ve been offered will be pulled. The next set of scripts I’ll get will be for sitcoms and rom-coms. Interviewers will start to ask me about my opinion on gay rights and the LGBT community and what the fuck am I supposed to say? I don’t know anything. And when that becomes painfully clear, when people know for sure that I don’t have the righteous anger it takes to be a gay icon, I’ll be wiped right off the fucking slate. No more acting, no more money. I’ll be type cast into oblivion.”

“You don’t even like acting.”

“It pays the fucking bills.”

“And how much money do you have hidden away, Mick? How much have you been saving? Because you’re not exactly living in a fucking mansion with gold-plated teeth.” Ian tried to catch Mickey’s eye but failed. “Are you telling me you can’t live the rest of your life on what you’ve already made? Or maybe, what you’ve already made and some slightly shittier job that you might actually like?”

“And what? Be the mechanic everyone knows as that washed up movie star? The gay guy who couldn’t handle the spotlight and ran?” Mickey spat on the floor. His phone buzzed again. “No. I may not like acting but I like the movies I’m in. I like my life, Ian. And I’m sorry, but I’m not throwing it all away for you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Ian forced out the words even though he felt like his heart had just shattered in his chest. He forced himself to breathe, steady himself. Right here and right now wasn’t about him. “Not for me. But for you.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

A knock came on the door followed by a small voice. “Excuse me? The director wants you back on set.”

“Tell him to fuck himself in the ass,” Mickey snapped.

Ian sighed and turned to the door. He opened it only enough to poke his head out and meet the eyes of the terrified girl on the other side. “We’re kind of in the middle of something. Maybe ask him if he can start in on the Christie/Tabitha scene?”

She nodded and backed away quick, still terrified.

Ian closed the door but didn’t turn back to Mickey.

“What’d you mean when you said you’d ask me to do it for me?”

Ian turned and met Mickey’s eyes. He shrugged. “You’ve been in the closet your whole life, Mick. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been fucking terrified to tell anyone. You’ve been terrified to let yourself feel what you feel, to love who you want to love. You can’t tell me that hasn’t taken a toll on you. You can’t tell me that’s fun for you.”

“It’s liveable.”

“But that’s not really living, is it?”

Mickey stared at him for a moment and then cursed. He flopped back onto the couch and let his head hit the wall. “I can’t do this, Ian. I just... I’m not ready. I might not ever be ready.”

“Right.” Ian bit his lip. “Okay. Then don’t do it.”

Mickey laughed. “Wouldn’t that be great? If I could just decide not to like there aren’t pictures coming out tomorrow.”

“Who cares?”

“The millions of people who are about to see me with my tongue down your throat, Ian.”

Ian shook his head and walked over to Mickey. “No. Fuck them. They’re wrong.”

“There’s picture proof.”

“Of what? That you kissed me? Who fucking cares?” Ian scoffed. “There was mistletoe for crying out loud. If that’s not an excuse, I don’t know what is.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It was late. We were drunk. We stumbled under some mistletoe and you thought, fuck it. It’s tradition, isn’t it? And I’m your best friend. Should you really not kiss me just because I’m a man? What kind of fucking homophobic world do we live in where two guys can’t even kiss as a goddamn joke without people jumping down their throats?”

“Everyone knows you’re gay.”

“Which is why you went for it. You knew I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d probably enjoy it. Are you not allowed to kiss your friend platonically just because he’s gay? It was a joke, Mick. Just a joke. Maybe you went a little too far, maybe you forgot you’re a celebrity and you can’t just go around kissing people, but...” Ian shrugged. “We were drunk. There was mistletoe. Frankly, you’re disgusted that people just jump to conclusions about your sexuality because you’re comfortable kissing guys. You’re a good ally. That’s it.”

Mickey stared at him for a long moment. “You’d be okay with that?”

“It’s not about me.”

“Because you don’t sound okay with it,” Mickey continued like he hadn’t even said anything. “You sound pissed as all fucking hell.”

Ian took a deep breath, shrugged. He sat down on the couch beside Mickey and offered his hand. Mickey linked their fingers together and squeezed. Ian said, “Am I happy that my boyfriend wants to keep me a secret? No, not really. Do I understand? I’m trying to. But Mick, bottom line is, if you don’t want to come out, you don’t fucking have to. You don’t owe these people anything and they don’t get to decide when you make major life decisions. So, if it helps, say that it was a joke between friends. I’ll back you up.”

Mickey leaned in to peck his lips. “Thank you.”

Ian squeezed his hand tight. “We should get back to set.”

Mickey shook his head. “We have a while.” He kissed Ian again, harder and longer. “Let me show you how much I fucking love you.”

Ian laughed and leaned in to the kiss. “I love you too.” Then he pulled back. “But we’re going to get caught in here. And that’s not gonna help anyone.”

Mickey nodded. “Okay. Let me run your idea by Liz and I’ll meet you out there?”

Ian agreed and left the dressing room. After he closed the door, he leaned up against it and forced himself to breathe. He knew he’d done the right thing. He’d offered Mickey the only out he had and Mickey had taken it. Ian really hadn’t thought that Mickey would take it.

He forced himself to go about the rest of the day as if nothing was wrong, as if everything was exactly as it should be. Like the director was full of shit and there wasn’t a picture of them kissing coming out on the front page of every magazine tomorrow. The thought made Ian’s stomach turn. The last time he’d been on a magazine cover, he’d been lying halfway out of a limo, vomit trickling down his shirt, an insane smile on his lips. There’d been a guy in the limo holding his legs to stop him from cracking his skull on the pavement. No matter how long Ian had looked at that picture for, he couldn’t remember the guy’s name or even having seen his face before. He still remembered the headline: CHILD STAR CRACKS. It hadn’t been the first bad picture by far but it was the last. The one they’d taken before finally giving up on him.

<<Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen>>

#gallavich #shameless #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #mine #3outof10 fanfic #lost lullabies #chapter eighteen

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