Archive of Our Own

Ian [11:28pm]: how’s the first night in your big boy apartment goin?

Mickey resists the urge to ask his boyfriend why he’s still awake. Part of Ian staying stable is him keeping a routine. It’s not easy for a college kid to stick to a bedtime, but Ian does more often than not. But Mickey doesn’t question it, not wanting to make Ian think he doesn’t trust him to take care of himself. Besides, if Ian is having trouble sleeping because of anxiety or some shit like that he wouldn’t be teasing Mickey about his apartment.

Mickey [11:30pm]: i heard frankie sneak levi into his room. walls are too fuckin thin

Ian [11:31pm]: lol just like being back in the gallagher house
Ian [11:32pm]: cant wait to try out your new bed
Ian [11:32]: i should go to bed. had to finish that assigned reading

Mickey [11:33pm]: nerd. no one does the assigned reading before the class even starts

Ian [11:34pm]: want to bring my gpa up

Mickey felt like shit as soon as he read the text. Ian worked hard over the summer to make up for what he missed because of his low last semester. 

Mickey [11:35pm]: sorry didnt mean it like that. love my hot nerd bf

Ian [11:35pm]: lol smooth save mick. love you too. night

Mickey [11:36pm]: night

Mickey plugs his phone in to charge overnight, making sure the ringer is on in case Ian calls or texts. It’s the first night they’ll be apart since Monica’s brief return. 

Putting the phone on his bedside table, he rolls over and shoves a pillow over his head, hoping to drown out some of the noise so he can sleep. He’s used to an earlier bedtime now, thanks to spending all summer with Ian. But he’s also going to have to adjust to having a morning commute. The apartment isn’t too far away, but it’s definitely more effort than just stumbling out of his dorm and walking across campus.

The apartment was a last minute change of plans. He was planning to room with Frankie again but then he pulled out to move off-campus with his friend Lina. They offered Mickey the final bedroom, and he accepted right away. A cramped apartment was a better choice than risking getting a shitty random new roommate in the dorms.

Calling it cramped is an understatement. There’s four of them sharing the three bedroom apartment. Mickey’s bedroom is smaller than all of his previous dorm rooms, but at least it’s his own space and he doesn’t have to share it with anyone else. And, at least he has an actual bed. As a last minute attempt to help split the rent a little more, Frankie offered the couch to Levi, his friend—or fuck friend if the sounds coming from the next room are anything to go by—for less than the rest of them are paying.

Giving up on his pillow, Mickey grabs his phone and starts playing music. Loudly. He rolls back over, planning all the ways he’s going to get back at Frankie the first night Ian stays over.

*

When Mickey wakes up and texts Ian a good morning message, his teasing Ian about assigned reading the night before catches his eye. Shit . There are only six days left until the start of the semester and he doesn’t know what supplies he’ll need. 

Hell, he’s not even fully sure of what classes he’s taking. The end of the semester was a blur, Ian’s health taking top priority. And while it didn’t affect Mickey’s grades—thanks to some all-nighters to wrap up assignments—he didn’t care enough to put much thought into the next semester. In fact, he handed over his login to his friend Zoey to register him. 

At the time, he thought he could always catch up to speed on his own shit during the summer. But they lived in such a nice bubble, Mickey working and Ian taking summer classes, them sharing a bed each night. Especially in those early days after, Mickey didn’t want anything to remind Ian about the effect his illness had on Mickey. So Mickey never brought up his own classes.

He brushes away the thoughts that are too introspective for this early in the morning— hell, too introspective at any time of day for a Milkovich. Maybe the therapy sessions he attended with Ian were rubbing off on him. Now all he needs is to see Zoey that registered him for a psychology class.

He grabs his laptop from the foot of his bed, where he tossed it last night, and logs into his school email account. He remembers Zoey sending him a list of what she registered him for. It doesn’t take him long to find the email, and he’s thankful to see that not only did she list out the classes, but she also left him notes about each one. Nothing seems too out of place to him as he scans the list.

Senior Fine Arts I (required to graduate - make sure you register for Senior Fine Arts II in the spring)
Professional Development: Portfolio (boring but required)

Editorial Illustration (I think you’ll like it???)

Mixed Media (I’m taking it too)
Studies in Literature (you still needed a lit class for your general ed class)

The literature class kind of sounds like torture, but maybe it’ll be a chance to work with Ian. He closes Zoey’s email just as another comes into his inbox. It’s from Lang, the professor who taught his two semesters of Junior Fine Arts, the class that ended with an art exhibit at a local artist’s gallery. 

She was pretty chill, but this email is anything but. The subject line is in all caps, yelling at him to open immediately. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he reads it. He opens the email and scans it. Apparently he missed a meeting with Lang at the end of last semester and needs to reschedule before classes start.

He has nothing to do today, so he replies asking to meet today. Lang’s reply back is quick and says nothing more than just her office number and a time.

“Thanks for coming in, Mickey,” she says later that afternoon when she opens her office door, motioning for him to sit down in the chair across from her desk. “I was starting to wonder if you were dropping out.”

“Uh, no.” Mickey rubs the back of his neck as he sits down. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to meet with you. Last semester wasn’t, uh…” He stills, unsure of what to say. 

He had to be more open than he wanted to last year when using a family emergency to get out of classes. But his class with Lang had mostly been wrapped up, the exhibit having already happened at that point, so he was able to get by without saying anything to her.

“Was it school-related?” Lang asks, cutting to the point. “There are plenty of resources—”

“—No,” he cuts her off quickly. “My boyfriend was sick and that was my priority.” His tone implies there’s no room for argument. Lang may seem chill, but the last thing he needs is for her to lecture him on school being a responsibility. 

“Ah,” she replies, her face softening with concern. “Hopefully everything is better. As for why I called you here…” She changes the subject smoothly. “As you’re aware, you don’t have to declare a concentration for your Fine Arts major, but I’m surprised you haven’t. You’ve taken mostly illustration and drawing classes.”

“You were looking at my classes?” Mickey asks gruffly.

“I am your advisor,” Lang says with a bemused smile. “Were you unaware of that?”

Mickey only shrugs in reply. Him coming to college was just short of a miracle at all. You can’t expect a Milkovich to completely change and become a nerd or some bullshit like that.

“Well, like I said, you don’t have to declare a concentration, but it would help your chances with Special Topics.”

Special Topics? What the hell is that, Mickey wonders but doesn’t say aloud, not willing to show once more how disconnected he’s been.

“So what do I have to do?” Mickey asks instead.

“Just fill out some paperwork. We can take care of it right now. So, which will it be? An illustration or drawing concentration?”

Mickey stares at her blankly. There hasn’t been a real difference in the classes he took. Either way he was drawing.

Either unaware of Mickey’s confusion, or aware and having mercy on him, Lang continues, “I suspect your career goals are more aligned with gallery work? Then a drawing concentration would work best. But you could always keep your options open for commercial work and pick illustration.”

Mickey continues to stare at her blankly. Why the hell does everything need to be complicated? If someone told him when he was applying that drawing wasn’t just drawing, he probably would’ve thought this was all bullshit and decided not apply.

“Or…” Lang trails off, tilting her head to the side in thought. “A double concentration could really put you ahead.”

“Why do you care?” The words slip out of Mickey’s mouth before he has a chance to realize what he’s saying.

Lang’s lips part in surprise. “I guess I’ll be frank with you, Mickey. You’re the best student I’ve seen in a while.”

“Yeah, okay.” He scoffs. No one would believe that a teacher is calling him a good student, nevermind their best.

“If any other student blew me off last semester,” Lang challenges. “They maybe would’ve gotten a courtesy email over the summer. I would not have sent an email every other week.”

Shit. Maybe he should’ve looked at his inbox.

“But you,” Lang continues, “You have a lot of talent. And I want to see your work out in the world. Pick a concentration or don’t. Either way, I think you’ll do great.”

Mickey shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Fine, I’ll do both.”

Lang beams at his choice and Mickey shoves down the feeling he gets at seeing her pride.

“Let me just adjust your schedule a little.” Lang starts tapping on her keyboard. “You’ll need to take an extra class this semester and next. Hm, any chance you can fit an internship in over the winter break? I could advise you on an independent study that would take the place of that…”

He tunes out her boring explanation of which of his past classes will count towards what, only hearing that he will need to take even more classes. What the fuck did he just get himself into?

*

Mickey enters his portfolio class, his first class of his senior year, expecting to feel something like relief that he’s almost over, but he’s surprised to feel a little— well, he’s not sure what he’s feeling. Ian would probably have some dumb word for it. He’ll never admit this to anyone—other than Ian, maybe—but he thinks he’s going to miss school a little. It’s an experience that before Ian he never thought he’d get to have. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he does enjoy it.

He sees Zoey, so he snags an empty seat next to her. “Why didn’t you say you’d be in this class, too?” he asks, poking her in the side to get her attention from the guy she’s talking to on the other side of her.

“Because I was going to put off this boring ass class until the last possible minute,” she replies, frowning. “But I realized if I wait until next semester, I wouldn’t have room for Spec.”

“What the fuck is Spec?” Mickey asks.

“It’s what everyone calls Special Topics.”

“Which is?” Mickey asks, annoyed. He’s heard Milkoviches more willing to give up information. “Lang kept talking about it.”

Zoey raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with not talking about Lang.” At Mickey’s grimace, she answers his question. “It’s the class every student, except you apparently, wants to get into.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s super competitive,” the guy on Zoey’s other side joins in the conversation, leaning over her to look at Mickey. “Only five seniors get into it.”

Mickey snorts, rolling his eyes. “So impossible to get into then.” He remembers losing out on one of the electives he wanted last year because he slept in on the day he was supposed to register for classes. It was full by the time he got around to it.

“Basically,” Zoey agrees. “Every professor nominates a student and the department heads decide on who to invite.” With a sigh she adds, “If Lang was talking to you about it, though, you probably have a good chance. And they’ve never invited more than one student from the same discipline together.”

“A fucking popularity contest?” Mickey scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not getting it. I’m not about to suck up to teachers to get into a class.”

Zoey looks at him as if he’s being unreasonable. “Last year, the class worked on a project for Disney. Disney, Mickey. Three of them ended up getting job offers out of it.”

Mickey tries not to show that his interest is piqued. He doesn’t care about the princess movie shit, but Ian has gotten him to watch some of the Star Wars and Marvel movies, which aren’t so bad. Getting a job connection that major just from a class isn’t so bad.

“What’s, uh, next semester’s topic?”

Zoey shrugs, pulling a notebook out of her backpack. “They decide after they select the students.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not getting in,” the guy on Zoey’s side says. “One less for me to compete against.”

Who the fuck is this guy, Mickey think. Years ago, Mickey would’ve kicked this kid’s ass just for how lame his bullying attempt was. Now, he just flips him the bird and rolls his eyes as Zoey snaps at him. “Shut up, Joel. Didn’t you almost fail Human Figure?”

“Bitch,” Joel mutters before turning away from them.

“Why the fuck does everyone know about this class but me?” Mickey wonders aloud, not expecting Zoey to answer.

“Because you’re at your boyfriend’s school more than your own,” she replies.

“That’s not—” Eh, she isn’t necessarily wrong. “Whatever.”

Zoey looks as if she’s about to say something else, but their professor enters, ending their conversation.

*

Zoey’s comment about him spending more time at Ian’s school than his own sticks in the back of his mind, so as they get into the semester, he finds reasons for Ian to visit him more often. He lucks out when Ian needs help with his algebra class. For the most part, Ian has been able to catch up and his grades haven’t slipped enough to get him benched on the team. Algebra is the only one cutting it close, but thankfully, his boyfriend makes an excellent math tutor.

They figure out it’s best if Ian comes over to Mickey’s apartment right after his class ends so Mickey can explain everything he was supposed to learn. By the time he arrives at Mickey’s, Mickey is just getting back himself from his literature class. Sometimes they spend a little time covering Mickey’s class, Ian liking that he can help Mickey, too. But mostly they spend their time dedicated to algebra—at least until they put the books away and head to Mickey’s bedroom.

It’s a good routine, and they settle into the semester.

*

Mickey scans the coffee shop quickly looking for his boyfriend. He's only been here a few times; Ian knows he doesn't like any of the fancy drinks or the weird looks he gets when he orders just a black coffee. But it's date night and if this is where Ian is, then it's where Mickey is going to be.

They're both still holding onto some residual guilt about how last year played out—Ian for not being fully present and Mickey for not noticing something was wrong sooner. So when Ian texted Mickey to cancel their usual date night at the diner because of a football emergency and asked him to come to the coffee shop on campus, Mickey didn't complain. Even if he hates this stupid yuppy coffee shop.

He spots Ian at a booth in the corner with his roommates. As if Ian can sense him—which wouldn’t surprise Mickey considering he’s always felt like he has his own sixth sense when it comes to Ian—he turns around. He throws a grim smile Mickey’s way and waves his boyfriend over.

When Mickey gets to the table, Ian pushes one of the D idiots—Mickey can never remember which is which—out of the booth to make room for him. Ian’s roommate pulls a chair over from a neighboring table and makes his own seat at the other end of the booth.

“Why’s everyone look like someone died?” Mickey asks as he sits down.

“Two idiots decided to prank the locker room,” Ian answers.

“Hey,” Dax, or maybe Duff, complains. 

“Now,” Justin adds, “We have to figure out a fundraiser to pay to fix it.”

“Idiots,” Ian repeats, glaring at Dax and Duff.

Mickey snorts as he reaches for Ian’s coffee. After pulling an all nighter to work on a piece, he needs the caffeine, gross, frilly drink be damned. He makes a face at the overly sugary drink and pushes it back towards Ian. 

“I ordered your coffee before you got here. It should be here in a minute.” Ian smirks before his frown takes over his face again.

“What’s the big deal about the locker room?” Mickey asks, looking around the table and seeing matching frowns on all the roommates. “Don’t you all have loaded parents? They’re not just gonna write a check? I thought that’s what all the rich fucks did to get out of trouble.” 

“Administration wants us to learn a lesson,” Ian answers as a waitress walks up to them and puts a black coffee in front of Mickey. “We need to put effort into raising the money or else we’re suspended from playing the rest of the season.”

Mickey takes a long sip of his coffee, trying to wash away the taste of Ian’s. “Then can’t they just buy a ton of candy bars off ya?” 

Justin snorts. “Not really the right audience. The only thing I’ve ever seen my mom buy from a fundraiser was a...” He trails off in thought. “Oh, shit. I figured it out.”

“Gonna share with the rest of us?” Ian asks when Justin doesn’t continue talking.

“We’re going to do a calendar. My mom buys some stupid fireman calendar every year.”

Mickey snorts. “Like the ones with firemen dressed up like slutty Santas? Have fun with that.”

“Oh, you will, too.” Justin grins, and Mickey dreads whatever Justin is going to say next. “You’re gonna art direct. We need someone to make sure it looks good. And you’re the only artist we know. At least the only artist who will do it for free.”

“Who says I’d do it for free?”

“Ian will pay you.” Justin wiggles his eyebrows.

“He’s not wrong,” Ian says, leaning in to Mickey’s side. “I’ll definitely make it worth it.”

And with that one sentence, every argument Mickey was about to make about not having the time, nor the interest to spend that much time with a bunch of football idiots falls away.

“So that’s a yes.” Ian smirks when Mickey doesn’t say anything. “So how is this gonna work?” he asks, directing his attention and question to Justin.

Just like that Mickey is directing a photoshoot—and possibly being the photographer, too—for a bunch of college football idiots. But if it’ll make Ian happy and not stress him any more than he has been, he’ll do anything asked of him.

*

Later that evening, after they thoroughly discussed the plans for the calendar, Mickey makes his way to Ian’s with him. With Justin having plans for the night and Dax and Duff—in their words—going out on the prowl, Mickey and Ian have the place completely to themselves for the first time in a couple of weeks. 

Ian plops himself down on his bed, on his back, and sighs a long breath. Mickey smiles softly and does the same right next to him. 

Ian looks to his right and smiles at his boyfriend. God, he’s missed him. They still see each other almost daily but since his last episode, they had been together constantly up until school started again and Ian felt better to not be so codependent. 

Ian feels Mickey lift his hand and place it on his thigh. It sends a warmth through Ian and his dick twitches in his jeans. 

Ian’s eyes flutter down to look at Mickey’s mouth where his plump bottom lip is trapped between his teeth. There isn’t a hesitation as Ian closes the little distance between them and presses his lips against Mickey’s.

Mickey moans instantly into his mouth and fuck—that sound is so perfect.

Mickey’s hand moves up his thigh and cups his hard dick through his jeans. Ian moves to get on top of Mickey, grinding against him.

They both moan into each other's mouths, their hard cocks straining in the confinement of their jeans as they grind against each other. 

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey moans as Ian’s lips travel down to his neck. He starts sucking a small mark right at the base of his neck, loving the feel of his heartbeat against his tongue.

Mickey’s left hand runs through Ian’s hair, gripping onto it tightly, loving the feel of him having a bit more hair to grab onto. His right hand grabs his waist, wanting to feel his body move against him.

All these sensations are getting Ian closer than he thought he’d be at this point— they’re both still fully clothed for fuck sakes.

Ian pulls back, his eyes heavy with desire as he looks into Mickey’s matching ones. “Get your fuckin’ clothes off,” he commands before getting off of him to do the same.

He hears Mickey’s breath hitch but quickly he’s removing all his clothes as Ian does the same. Ian flips Mickey over onto his stomach and buries his face into Mickey’s ass, licking him open.

“Fuck,” Mickey moans loudly, pushing his ass back into Ian’s face. He’s missed the sensation of Ian’s tongue opening him up.

They haven’t been very sexual since Ian’s last episode but in the past couple of weeks they have only gotten to the point of doing some oral or even just grinding on each other or just nothing at all because his medication has been suppressing his sexual needs.

Ian wants so badly to get back to the stamina he had prior to his depressive episode, but he knows it’s going to take some time. Right now, though, is the first time since that he’s been this hard up to fuck. 

Ian’s gripping onto Mickey’s ass so hard as he tongues him hard and fast like he’d be doing with his cock right now.

“I’m good, Ian. Get inside me,” Mickey tells him, and Ian’s thankful his partner knows he’s ready to get inside him.

Ian smacks Mickey’s ass lightly after pulling away, and he hears a small moan from Mickey. Ian grabs the lube that Mickey tossed onto the mattress at some point and pours some into his palm. He strokes himself, coating his hard, leaking cock. 

“Turn around,” Ian tells him, wanting to see Mickey as he slides inside of him.

Mickey obliges immediately. He’s a little sweaty, a strand of his black hair sticking to his forehead, his cock hard and leaking. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, Mick,” Ian tells him as he pushes his legs apart to line himself up. 

Mickey wraps his legs around Ian’s waist as Ian pushes his hard cock inside of Mickey’s tight hole. They both moan loudly, the sensation feeling like the first time they fucked all over again all those years ago. 

“Fuckkkk,” Ian moans as he bottoms out, leaning closer to Mickey, their chests touching. 

“Missed this. Missed you,” he tells him before kissing him softly.

“Me too, baby,” Mickey says, his hands holding him close. 

Ian smiles; he loves when Mickey calls him baby.

Ian fucks him hard and fast, going deep. They’re both panting and sweating. “I don’t know how much longer I can last, Mick,” Ian tells him before burying his face into the crook of Mickey’s neck. He smells so good, like sweat and sex and just all Mickey.

“Me neither,” Mickey tells him. “Come for me, baby.”

That’s all it takes before Ian’s letting go, coming hard inside his boyfriend as he moans into his neck.

He can feel Mickey’s own release between them, coating both their stomachs. 

That was the most intense orgasm Ian’s had since before his depressive episode. 

When they’re both done, Ian rolls off of Mickey, and they lay next to each other, sweaty messes. He turns his head to look at Mickey and they both grin. 

Ian chuckles and Mickey smacks his chest teasingly. 

Mickey leans on his elbow and looks down at Ian. He kisses him softly on the lips before saying, “C’mon, let’s go shower.”

He gets off the bed and reaches his hand out to Ian to take, helping him off the bed. 

They giggle and smile the entire time and Ian starts to feel a lot more like himself. 

*

They’re just dozing off when Mickey’s phone vibrates on the nightstand. “Leave it. Nothing good happens this late at night,” he mutters, but Ian leans over his boyfriend to grab it.

“Could be important,” he explains. With an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrow he adds, “Besides, are you saying what we just did wasn’t good?” His smile slips from his face as he sees the caller ID. “Why is Fiona calling you?”

“Dunno. Answer and find out.” Mickey yawns and shuffles, pushing Ian back over to his side of the bed.

The phone stops vibrating and Ian’s fears are confirmed when a text follows.

Fiona [10:43pm]: Hey, checking in. Give me a call when you can.

“What the hell? Are you keeping tabs on me and reporting back to Fiona?”

“Wha—no. What the hell are you talking about?” Giving up on falling asleep any time soon, Mickey sits up.

Ian shows Mickey the screen. “Well?”

“Well what?” Mickey grumbles. “Call her back and see what she wants.”

Ian does, putting it on speaker phone. How is he ever supposed to feel normal if his family and Mickey keep treating him with kid gloves, like they can’t trust him enough to talk to him instead of about him.

“Hey, Mick!” Fiona answers after two rings.

“It’s me,” Ian replies, putting the phone on speaker. “Why the hell are you calling Mickey?”

“Hello to you, too. I’m doing great. Thanks for asking,” Fiona replies. At Ian muttering her name, she continues, “You didn’t answer your phone. I figured you were with Mickey. Looks like I was right. Is there a reason you don’t want me talking to him?”

“He thinks we’re talking behind his back,” Mickey supplies. “So now I’m not getting any sleep ’cause your brother’s being a dickhead.”

“Ian—”

“—Whatever, it’s fine. Sorry,” Ian cuts her off. Somehow the pity he can hear in her voice is worse. “What’s up?”

“The diner’s slow right now so I figured I’d check in and see how your classes are going.” Before he can answer, there’s muffling on the call. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” she calls out to someone. “Shit, my break’s over. Call me tomorrow. I like to live vicariously through you. All that sun and none of the damn cold.”

“I will,” he promises. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

When he hangs up the phone, he gives his boyfriend a sheepish look. “Sorry for getting all…” He trails off, waving his hand around.

“S’fine. I’m not keeping tabs on you for your family, though. I don’t have an Ian diary I’m sending to them every day.”

“Weekly then?” Ian jokes lamely. “I know. I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, or I was overthinking. Whatever. Can we just forget about this?”

“Gladly. Can we fucking sleep now?” Mickey settles back down in the bed.

Ian responds by laying down next to him and reaching for his hand. Mickey pulls him in close. 

*

Mickey’s woken up by soft kisses to his skin. He moans contently. It feels good but he also does not want to wake up right now.

“Mickey,” Ian says softly as he continues his trail of feather light kisses across his naked body—from his lips down his neck, his chest, his stomach. 

Mickey stays quiet, hoping that maybe Ian will stop trying to wake him up. 

That doesn’t work because Mickey’s dick is hard and Ian’s circling his tongue around the base of it. 

Mickey moans, his eyes fluttering open to see Ian watching him, his tongue moving up slowly from base to tip.

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey moans, his cock twitching.

Ian takes Mickey into his mouth fully, sucking him down, his tongue moving against his throbbing cock. Mickey grabs onto Ian’s disheveled hair, and Ian moans around his cock.

Ian swallows around him, twisting his tongue around and around, moving his mouth to suck on his balls as he strokes his leaking cock. 

“I’m close, Ian,” Mickey moans out.

Ian takes him back into his mouth and Mickey comes hard down his throat with a loud moan. 

Ian moves back up Mickey’s body, kissing his way back up before pressing his lips to Mickey’s. Mickey deepens the kiss, shoving his tongue in Ian’s mouth and tasting himself on his tongue.

Mickey reciprocates, making Ian come quickly as he was already hard and leaking from giving him head. 

As they lay next to each other in bed, Ian turns his body to face Mickey and says, “Good morning.”

Mickey laughs. “Yeah, good morning, indeed,” he smiles. 

Ian matches him with a grin. “Did you have a lot of work to do today for school?” he asks him after a beat.

Mickey eyes him. He hesitates. “Not really…” 

Ian smiles widely again. “Great! So we’re going to have to get started on the calendar. Today.”

Mickey groans, turning his head into the pillow. He knew waking up to a blowjob that there had to have been some sort of catch.

“Get fucked,” Mickey moans into his pillow.

“Later,” Ian sasses. “C’mon, Mick,” he whines. 

Mickey doesn’t really budge so Ian starts attacking. He starts fucking tickling Mickey and he loses it. He laughs, loudly, but he hates every second of this.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay,” Mickey repeats as he thrashes around on the bed trying to avoid Ian’s hands. “Fucking stop. I’ll take the fuckin’ pictures today.”

Ian grins from ear to ear, releasing his hands immediately. “You’re the best,” he says before placing a quick peck to Mickey’s cheek.

“You so owe me,” Mickey mutters as he gets off the bed.

“I’ll make it worth it, don’t you worry,” Ian says with a wink before sauntering out of the room. Mickey just realized Ian’s already fully clothed and ready to go. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, half turned on to what Ian will do to repay him and half annoyed that he has to hurry to leave and spend the day with a bunch of meatheads.

*

It’s a nice day which makes it funnier for Mickey to see these idiots dressed up in different themes. 

They’re moving all around the city for these shots due to their themes and locations. Mickey hates them all. Except Ian.

They start with the winter months and go to a space that one of the idiots' parents uses for their art. Mickey can appreciate the space but that’s about it.

It’s an empty space. He assumes the parent removed everything out of the way. Smart.

They do the winter months so there’s December, January, and February to tackle in this space. The boys brought some props and things they could find, as well as some costumes with them.

Ian takes December. The guys agreed he should be dressed as Santa Claus. Ian didn’t disagree. He wanted to be a sexy Santa because he knew Mickey would eat it up. He wasn’t wrong.

“You look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Mickey says when Ian comes out from the backroom dressed as Santa. Well, if Santa was about to plow Mrs. Claus.

The jacket is left open and underneath is Ian’s bare chest slathered in baby oil. The pants aren’t even pants at all, he’s wearing very short shorts and he’s got these big ass boots on. He doesn’t have the beard or the white hair, but he has the hat.

Mickey says he looks ridiculous but he also tries very hard not to get hard right now.

“Yeah, tell it to him,” Ian teases, looking down at Mickey’s jeans then winking at him.

Mickey flips him off and tells him, “Just start fuckin’ posing or something and shut up.”

Ian laughs and Mickey starts taking pictures. Ian poses and he does look ridiculous—ridiculously sexy.

Fuck, Mickey hates and loves how hot Ian is.

He pushes away his inappropriate thoughts for later and snaps the pictures. The guys are hollering behind him and shouting at Ian to pose a certain way or do something else, and it’s helping because Ian looks way too good but also it’s giving Mickey a migraine.

“Okay, that’s enough. Mr. January, you’re up,” Mickey yells out. “And stop shouting in my fucking ears or you’re all losing vocal cords today.”

The guys obey but Justin smirks. He knows Mickey well enough now to know that these are mainly just empty threats but he would do it if need be.

January and February are about the same. Fake snow, half-naked men, and hats and open jackets. 

They also tackle the Autumn months—September, October, and November—in this location.

September has a few of them with books pretending to study. October has them in some other ridiculous costumes for Halloween. And November has a couple of them in aprons only pretending to cook a turkey for Thanksgiving.

They move locations to the closest beach so that they can do most of the other months. They start with March and April and make them very spring break-esque. There’s a few guys in each one for these two months. They have coolers and beers and shorts on with their chests out and oiled up, sunglasses on, and they look like they’re about to go hit on some girls. 

“Oh my God,” Mickey hears and sure enough, some women in sundresses are walking over. 

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey mutters. 

“Wait, no this could be good,” Ian pats him on the shoulder before running over to the group. 

Next thing you know, two girls get lifted onto the shoulders of two of the idiots, and the other girl is sitting in the sand with one of the other guys pretending to cheers their drinks. 

Ian tells Mickey to get snapping so Mickey obliges, taking pictures of the group, and it actually turns out pretty decent. 

For May, Ian is in the shot because it’s his birthday month. He and Justin pose in the sun, doing some homoerotic poses but they look good so whatever. 

For the rest of the summer months, they get the guys in the water, one of them even gets on a jet ski and Mickey manages to get some really cool shots of him splashing water from behind onto a couple of the other guys who are posing in the water. 

The sun is about to set—they’ve been at this all fucking day —but Mickey wants to do one more.

“We need a cover photo for the calendar, jackasses,” Mickey calls out when they start to get too chatty. He looks around and spots where the sun is starting to set and create some beautiful, magical colors in the sky. “Stand here,” he points out to them.

They all make their way over. They’re all in their shorts, nothing else, and all get together. Some crouch down, some stand, but they’re all close together and they smile brightly.

Mickey takes a few shots, making sure to capture the sunset with their shining smiles and still glistening chests. Ian’s a little red now from a day without a shirt on in the sun but it looks good; he looks happy. 

Mickey smiles looking at Ian through the lens. He clears his throat as he lowers the camera. “K we’re done here,” he calls out.

The guys all hug and jump on each other until they’re all tangled up in the sand. Mickey rolls his eyes but takes a few more shots of them. 

Once they’re all up and dressed and ready to go, Mickey pulls Ian’s arm. “Let’s go this way,” he says for his ears only.

Ian smiles. “Okay,” he says back just as softly. “See you guys tomorrow!” he calls out to his team before following Mickey wherever he wants to go. 

He follows Mickey off the beach where they find a food truck. Mickey buys them a couple burritos and a beer for himself and a soda for Ian before leading him back to the beach. 

They walk to this little hut down the beach. It’s almost empty now, as it’s getting a little chillier because the sun is almost completely set. They walk up the little ramp before Mickey hands Ian the bag with the food and drinks and reaches into his backpack for a blanket. 

“Awwwww, Mick,” Ian coos. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey says even though he’s trying to suppress his own grin.

Mickey puts the blanket down before sitting. He reaches up for the bag of food, and Ian hands it to him before sitting next to him. 

They don’t say anything as Mickey pulls both burritos out and their drinks out of the bag. They start eating in silence, just watching the waves crash against the shore, the sun gone and the moon out and bright in the sky.

“This is really sweet, Mick,” Ian says after a little while. “Thank you for always thinking of me and doing things like this even though I know being romantic isn’t really your thing.”

“Who says?” Mickey retorts, mouth full of food. 

Ian laughs. “Well, it wasn’t your thing but maybe it is now,” he teases, knocking their shoulders together.

“You like this romantic shit so I don’t mind doing stuff like this for you to keep you around.” Mickey winks. 

“I love you so much,” Ian smiles, his beautiful eyes shining. 

Mickey leans in and kisses his perfect lips. Ian moans into the kiss softly which makes Mickey deepen it. He pulls back and says softly, “I love you too.”

Ian smiles before giving him another sweet kiss on the lips. They finish their food before getting under the blanket and sitting closely together, enjoying each other's company and the sound of the ocean. 

*

Ian’s gotten to see Mickey quite often in the past few weeks since school started again, which is rare. Usually, they don’t get much time together because of football and school. However, since Ian hasn’t been doing great in math, they’ve been studying together twice a week. They also keep their regular date night so he’s seeing Mickey three times a week, which makes him really happy.

Mickey watches Ian practice until he’s done, and then they go to whatever convenient location they can find to study—library, Ian’s dorm if it’s unoccupied, their favorite restaurant, a coffee shop, anything.

Ian’s intrusive thoughts continue to tell him that he’s a fuck up, he couldn’t even finish last year on a good note, and had to spiral and start to slip in his grades. Those thoughts tell him he’s never going to be a professional football player, that he’ll never get drafted to the NFL, that Mickey will leave him when he realizes how batshit crazy he is, and he’ll be back in the South Side, alone and depressed. 

Ian pushes those thoughts aside until he’s able to speak to his therapist. When he was going through his depressive episode last spring, he was dodging their appointments. He would say that he had too much homework and studying and would say that the next week would be fine until that week came and he’d dodge her again. 

Since the first appointment back with her to readjust his meds that he had with Mickey, he’s been seeing her twice a week. One in-person appointment as usual, and the other she said they could do over the phone seeing as he was busy all summer with his summer course and training for football season.

Dr. Reid reduced their appointments back to one in-person appointment a week once his senior year started, which Ian is grateful for. It makes him feel like he’s him again. 

It’s Wednesday and Ian has a break in the middle of the day so he heads to his regularly scheduled weekly therapy appointment. 

He sits down on Dr. Reid’s dark green sofa. He feels a little sweaty because it’s sunny out and he decided to walk. He takes a long drink of water before putting the almost empty glass back onto the coffee table in between them.

Dr. Reid smiles at him. “So, how has the last week been for you, Ian?”

Ian tells her about the fundraiser and how fun it was to take pictures with everyone, especially because Mickey took the photos. He tells her about their date after it.

“So it sounds like things are going well for you two?” she asks, picking up on it.

Ian hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His previous thoughts coming forward and making him doubt everything. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Things have been better. Summer was a bit rough with the dose adjustment and taking a summer course and football practice, but things have been feeling a bit more normal between us.”

Ian’s looking down at his hands in his lap, picking at the skin on his thumb near his nail. 

“Is something wrong, Ian?” Dr. Reid asks. “You just got very quiet, and you haven’t looked up in a few minutes.”

Ian didn’t even realize he did that. He sighs. “It’s just—I have these thoughts. Fears mainly.”

“What fears are you having?” she probes.

Ian can feel all the emotions bubbling up inside of him and all those horrible thoughts screaming at him. “That I’m not good enough,” he says a little louder than he thought he would. He takes a couple deep breaths as Dr. Reid stays silent, letting him have his moment. He continues, “Those thoughts I was having when I was in my depressive episode—they haven’t gone away. I’m constantly worried that I’ll never have the life I want. That I’m not good enough to be with Mickey. That I’m not good enough to make it pro and be in the NFL. That I’m not good enough to be in university on scholarship. That I’m not good enough to be anything other than South Side trash.”

Dr. Reid puts her pen down onto her notebook and looks directly at Ian. “Those are all valid fears to have. You’ve put an enormous amount of pressure on yourself to amount to something big. You grew up in poverty and you know that a lot of people don’t get out of that and you’re worried that this has all been too good to be true and you’ll end up right back where you started.” 

Ian blinks, amazed. “Exactly,” he tells her. She really hit the nail on the head there.

“Those fears are valid, Ian, but what you should remember is that you’re not like everyone else. You’re special. You see the world differently. You think about the world differently. You can amount to anything you put your mind to. I see how hardworking you are when it comes to our sessions so I have no doubt that you apply that same work ethic to school, football, and your relationships.”

He stays silent taking in what she said. He appreciates her words. They help for now.

She continues, “What I want from you in the coming weeks is to not put so much pressure on yourself and have more faith in yourself that things will work out for you exactly how you want them to. I also want you to rely more on your support system. Mickey, your siblings, whoever you feel comfortable confiding in when those intrusive thoughts and fears become too loud. Bringing them up to me in our sessions is great, and I want you to continue that, however, we see each other once a week, and I’m sure these thoughts probably happen more often than that.” 

Ian nods. He wished they’d disappear completely but nope, they’re often way too loud.

Dr. Reid nods back. “Confide more in your support system. You have an amazing group of people who love and support you, from everything you told me, and from what I saw in Mickey when he came to your first session back last spring. If you’re not ready for that—” She gets up and heads to her desk. She pulls something out of one of the drawers before making her way back. She hands Ian a black notebook. “I want you to write down your thoughts, feelings, fears, anything that’s becoming too loud inside your head. I’d like you to bring it to your next session if you do write something inside of it.”

Ian accepts the book. He nods and says softly, “Okay.”

They finish up their hour. Ian puts the notebook in his bag before making his way back to school. He feels lighter, less stressed. At least for now.

*

Mickey makes his way to the coffee shop close to Ian’s place after his last class. Ian should already be there. His class ended half an hour before Mickey’s and it’s right by his campus.

They’re planning to study together, have a quick dinner there, then head back to Ian’s to spend some time together and enjoy each other. 

He spots Ian easily, sitting in a booth in the back of the shop. 

“Hey,” he says to Ian who hasn’t looked up until he spoke.

Ian looks up, and smiles softly but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Hi,” he says softly. “I didn’t order anything yet.”

“That’s fine, I can get it,” Mickey tells him. He puts his bag down across from Ian before coming to his side to lean down in Ian’s face. 

Ian tilts his head up to sweetly peck Mickey on the lips. “Thanks,” he says when they pull apart.

Mickey goes to the cashier to buy them both coffees for now until they’re ready to eat. He brings them back to their table, placing them down on a spot that doesn’t have books or papers. 

Ian takes a sip of his iced coffee and melts a bit into his seat. He has a small smile on his lips as he puts it down, looking at Mickey. 

“You okay?” Mickey asks him.

“I am now that you’re here and I have some coffee in me,” Ian laughs. “Should we get started?”

Mickey nods, though he feels like there’s something off. He knows Ian had a therapy appointment today. His mood is always slightly off when he has his appointments. He lets it slide for now and they get started on Ian’s homework that he needs help with. 

--

Ian can feel Mickey watching him. All throughout their study session and as they ate their sandwiches. 

They get to Ian’s place, and even as they move throughout the space together, he can feel Mickey’s eyes on him.

He acts like he doesn’t notice because it’s easier than having to talk about it. 

Ian doesn’t really want to talk about anything. Especially not his fears that he discussed with Dr. Reid today. It’s too much. He already discussed it once. 

He should discuss them with Mickey because those fears involve him, but he just feels drained. These past few months have been so hard on Ian. Mentally, emotionally, physically. He just can’t handle it anymore. And if that means keeping some things hidden for now then he’ll do it. 

“You okay?” Mickey asks him, breaking him out of his own mind. 

Ian’s eyes refocus and he sees Mickey sitting next to him on the bed, watching him. 

He doesn’t even remember them both sitting on the bed. He sighs. He hates lying to Mickey but he can’t just say I’m fine again; Mickey isn’t buying it.

“What’s wrong, Ian? You’ve been off since we met up at the coffee shop. Does it have anything to do with your session today?” Mickey probes, not letting it go. He hasn’t been letting anything go since Ian’s depressive state. He beats himself up for it every day, and Ian hates that he does that. It wasn’t Mickey’s fault.

He feels Mickey put his hand on his where they lay in his lap. He takes Mickey’s offered hand in his and squeezes it. He looks up to see Mickey’s worried face, his blue eyes so bright, shiny and glossy like he doesn’t want to cry.

“Therapy today was kinda intense,” Ian starts. Mickey nods, waiting patiently. “We spoke about some of my fears, and it’s why I’ve been quiet tonight. It was just—a lot, and I didn’t want to talk about it all over again but it’s you and I don’t want you to have that worried look anymore.”

“I’m sorry—” Mickey starts to apologize.

“Don’t, it’s okay. I want to share these things with you, it’s just—I’m scared,” Ian admits.

Mickey’s eyebrows raise, shocked. “Scared of what?”

“Losing you,” Ian says softly.

“What?” Mickey says loudly. “You could never lose me.”

Ian smiles at him softly, loving how outraged he seems to be. 

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Mickey asks, not able to stop his own smile.

Ian shrugs one shoulder, squeezing Mickey’s hand with his. “You’re cute, that’s why.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not cute,” he snips.

“Yes, you are. You love me sooooo much,” Ian teases.

Mickey looks into Ian’s eyes, his bright blue eyes serious now but still so soft with so much love. “I do. Ian, I love you so much, you’re it for me. You could never lose me. I will always be right here by your side. Until you no longer want me.”

Ian shakes his head. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Well same,” Mickey says, making Ian smile softly. 

He takes his other hand and brings it to Ian’s face. Ian's eyes flutter close at the touch of Mickey’s calloused hand caressing his cheek. He feels Mickey’s breath on his lips before the sweet press of them. 

Ian kisses him back softly; it’s a soft peck, no tongue, just them reassuring each other that they’re there for each other.

When they pull apart, Ian says, “I know you love me. I see it every day. It’s just—I’m fucked up, Mick. I have this fucking disorder that won’t ever go away. I’m always going to be all over the fucking place, losing control of my own fucking actions. It’s a lot to deal with. I keep screwing up with school, football, family, friends, you. I just—I’m scared one day I’m going to be off balance and push everyone so far away that no one wants to deal with me anymore, and the fucked up thing is—I wouldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to deal with me. I’m a mess and I feel like my future is going to be so fucked.”

“Who isn’t a mess? I’m not fuckin’ perfect either, Ian. Neither is your family—they’re even more fucked up than you and they don’t have the disorder you have. You work so hard every day just to feel normal. You’re doing well in school. You’re an amazing quarterback. You’re the best brother I’ve ever seen, and you’re a perfect boyfriend—even when you’re pissing me the fuck off,” Mickey reassures him, teasing him slightly making Ian chuckle. “You don’t have to have everything figured out right now—not about life after school. We will figure all that out together and no matter what our lives look like, I will always be here. So don’t beat yourself up about any of this shit. You’re amaz—”

Ian cuts him off, pressing his lips against Mickey’s hard. He feels the breath leave Mickey’s mouth, taken aback from the sudden kiss before he feels Mickey bring his hands up to cup Ian’s face. Ian puts his hands on Mickey’s sides, pulling him closer until Mickey climbs onto his lap.

They both moan into each other's mouths as Mickey’s ass presses down against Ian’s hardening dick. 

Mickey pulls back slightly to look into Ian’s green eyes. “Don’t be scared,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Ian says simply, trusting Mickey in this moment, knowing how much he loves him and how he’s never let him down before. Trusting that Mickey will always have his best interest at heart and if he doesn’t think he needs to be scared then Ian will try hard to not be scared and push those horrible, intrusive thoughts away.

Mickey searches his eyes, smiling softly when he sees the trust in them. He kisses him again and they show each other just how much they trust each other and how those fears they both have don’t need to be there, not when they’re together.

*

A couple weeks later, Ian comes over to Mickey’s place with the calendar. It’s printed and ready to be sold. 

Mickey takes the calendar Ian brought for him, bringing him his own copy that he can hang up in January for the new year. 

They sit together in the living room as Mickey flips through them, looking at the pictures he took, seeing which ones ended up being chosen.

“Holy fucking shit,” Mickey hears from behind him. 

Frankie’s standing behind the sofa, looking over their shoulders at the calendar. Mickey looks back to the calendar and it’s one of Ian, shirtless, glistening, and really fuckin’ sexy . 

“Fuck off, Frankie,” Mickey tells him, getting annoyed. 

Frankie ignores him, knowing to just ignore Mickey when he says shit like that. “What is this beautiful thing?” Frankie asks, waving his hand to the calendar in Mickey’s lap.

Ian looks back at Frankie, answering him, despite Mickey wanting Frankie to just fucking disappear right now. “The team needed to do something for a fundraiser and we came up with a calendar for the new year. We were the subjects and Mick took the photos.”

Frankie smacks Mickey’s shoulder. “You’re fucking good, Mick!” he tells him. 

Mickey huffs, flipping to the next month—a team shot. 

“So where can I get me one of these?” Frankie asks Ian.

“They’re being sold at my campus,” Ian tells him. Mickey pinches Ian’s arm and he yelps. “What the fuck, Mick?”

“Is there a limit on how many you can buy?” Frankie asks.

Ian laughs but Mickey seethes. What is Frankie’s fucking problem right now. “No, there’s no limit, but I think they’re only being sold until the amount they need is raised.”

“Good to know,” Frankie says with a nod. 

“Are you done fucking leering at my boyfriend now or?” Mickey snaps, as he looks back at Frankie, hoping some magical powers will somehow appear and he can obliterate him right here.

“Mick—” Ian says as he puts his hand on his arm. 

“Yeah, Mick, relax. Your man is hot as fuck. It’s a compliment, Jesus,” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’m heading out. See you, Ian,” Frankie teases, winking at Mickey. 

“Did you fucking see that?” Mickey asks, turning to look at Ian.

They hear Frankie laugh as he closes the door behind him. “He’s trying to fuck with me and he’s messing with the wrong fucking roommate right now,” Mickey says, tossing the calendar onto the coffee table, his mood ruined to look at the rest of it.

Ian’s trying to contain his smile but he can’t help himself. “What the fuck are you grinning about?” Mickey says annoyed. Why is everyone tryna piss him off right now?

“You’re jealous,” Ian states.

“What the fuck ever man. He’s trying to get under my skin—”

“—And it’s working,” Ian interrupts.

“I don’t like him saying shit like that about you,” Mickey says softer than before.

“That I’m sexy?” Ian teases.

Mickey groans.

“Mick, relax, if you haven’t noticed people find me attractive but it doesn’t really matter since the only man I’m interested in thinking I’m sexy is you,” Ian tells him, taking his hand in his and rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

Mickey softens, but he’s still annoyed. “Still.”

“I know, baby,” Ian teases. Mickey pinches him again which turns into a wrestling match and well—that always leads them into bed.

--

Later that evening, they’re watching a movie on the sofa—well, Mickey’s watching it; Ian fell asleep with his head on Mickey’s chest. 

Mickey runs his fingers through Ian’s hair—the bit of hair he has during football season, feeling his scalp and helping him feel comfortable and safe. 

He hears the front door open and spots Frankie making his way inside. He puts his arm up to get his attention and points down next to him. 

Frankie comes in and sees Ian asleep and nods, respecting it and not speaking too loudly. 

Mickey notices the calendar poking out of Frankie’s tote bag. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says softly not to wake Ian.

“What?” Frankie asks but notices where Mickey’s looking and knows it’s the calendar. “Oh, get over it. It’s a calendar of hot college boys. I’m not gonna try and steal your man.”

“Bitch, you couldn’t if you tried,” Mickey snaps. 

Frankie smirks at him. Mickey likes Frankie; he’s been a good roommate and surprisingly a good friend. He just doesn’t like people looking at Ian in any kind of way that isn’t platonic. 

He sighs. “Just don’t fucking jerk it to him, please,” he says softly.

“No promises,” Frankie teases before he sees the look on Mickey’s face. “Jesus, kidding!” he rolls his eyes. “I actually love the two of you together so stop plotting my death.”

Mickey softens. He knows Frankie wouldn’t actually try to fuck Ian or whatever. He just hates hearing shit like that about his boyfriend. 

“Fine,” he says simply. 

Frankie smiles, knowing that’s as good as he’ll get for now. He salutes him before heading off to his room to leave them alone.

Mickey redirects his attention to the movie playing and he feels Ian shift a bit, his leg moving up higher, he can almost feel his knee touching his dick through his pants. 

Ian hugs Mickey tighter and mumbles into his neck, “My jealous man.”

Mickey chuckles. “Shut up,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

*

Before Mickey realized Ian was heading into a depression, he had a plan to bring Ian to Vegas for his 21st birthday in May. That never happened and he doesn’t blame Ian. He kind of blames himself, but he doesn’t have time to spiral into his I don’t deserve Ian thoughts. 

Mickey’s on his laptop looking up cheap car rental spots so that he can rent a car for them to drive to Vegas during spring break. He also has another few tabs open on different hotels in Vegas that they could potentially stay in. He hasn’t booked anything yet because it’s been so expensive every time he looks. 

“Hey, Mick,” he hears before he feels a peck to his cheek. 

Ian and Justin join him at the library. They rented one of the private rooms to be able to get some studying done but to also be able to talk without people shushing them every two minutes.

Justin shuts the door behind him and takes a seat across from them, pulling book after book out of his bag, Ian doing the same.

“Whatcha looking at?” Ian asks, peeking over to look at the laptop.

Ian already knows of Mickey’s plan so he just says, “Vegas stuff.”

“Vegas?” Justin tunes in. “What about Vegas?”

“Mickey had planned to take me for my birthday in May but I was too depressed so that didn’t end up happening so we’re gonna go during spring break,” Ian informs him.

“Dude, you realize the NFL draft is happening in Vegas in April. The whole team is planning to go,” Justin says.

“Holy shit, I didn’t even realize,” Ian says, a concerned look on his face. “I’m so fucking behind on this shit cause of that stupid fuckin’—”

“—Hey, it’s okay,” Justin cuts him off. He looks to Mickey briefly and they share a moment of let’s stop Ian from spiraling right now . 

“Yeah, it’s fine that you forgot about that, Ian,” Mickey tells him. “So did I.” He shrugs. “But since everyone’s already going it should be easier to find a hotel and car to rent, I hope.”

“Oh for sure,” Justin chimes in. “I’ll get you guys a room in the same hotel that we’re staying in—Ceasar’s Palace.”

“Shit, man, I can’t. That’s a fuckin’ fancy one,” Mickey tells him.

“Don’t worry about it. My dad’s a shareholder; it’s on us. He reserved a bunch of rooms for everyone already so I’ll just text him to reserve another one for you guys. It’s only for three days, though. That cool?” Justin tells them.

Mickey looks to Ian. “Do you want to stay longer? I can book us a different hotel for after if you wanna stay longer?”

Ian smiles at him. “Nah, three days in Vegas seems like enough. Plus there’s only finals left when we’d get back so we can just spend that time together at whichever one of our places is empty,” he smirks.

Mickey smirks right back, loving the sound of Ian’s plan. “Sounds good.”

“Stop eye fucking each other before I puke up my lunch,” Justin says.

Ian puts his arm over Mickey’s shoulders, kisses his cheek and flips Justin off. Mickey flips him off too, grinning. 

Justin rolls his eyes. He picks his phone back up from where it vibrates on the table. “Room’s reserved. As for the car, we were gonna rent a giant ass bus to bring us all. You guys can join and save the money from renting and use that on other shit like alcohol and food and gambling or whatever,” Justin tells them.

“That works,” Ian says, looking at Mickey. “If you want.”

“It’s your late birthday party, up to you,” Mickey tells him.

Ian smiles at him, taking his hand under the table and squeezing it.

“Oh, speaking of—” Justin says, as he picks up his phone again. “I’m gonna call my club promoter and set something up for your birthday for one of the nights. And no, you can’t get out of this.” He fixes Ian with a look.

Ian rolls his eyes. “You know I’m not drinking, jackass,” he says.

“Well, we all do, and so does your boyfriend, so you can suck it up for a couple of hours—plus you can just grind on Mickey. Then you guys can fuck off to fuck or whatever,” Justin says with a wave of his hand.

Ian rolls his eyes again but can’t help but laugh. He looks at Mickey who has a smirk on his face. “Could be fun,” Mickey says with a wink. “Just for a couple hours.”

Ian knows that if Mickey’s got some liquor in his system and they’re in a packed club and Ian’s grinding behind him, they won’t last more than an hour, so he nods, agreeing to this plan.

“Perfect,” Justin chimes in. “We’ll get a table at whatever club is poppin’ the most on whichever night we chose to go to. Still got time.”

Mickey’s grateful to Justin. He could be a fucking idiot sometimes but he’s a good friend to Ian. And to him. Taking care of getting them a hotel room in one of the top hotels in Vegas and securing them a ride there and back. 

“Thanks, Justin,” Mickey says sincerely.

“Of course, man, that’s what friends are for,” Justin says with a wink.

Mickey nods before looking over to Ian who’s smiling at him. He feels Ian squeeze his hand before bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss the back of Mickey’s hand. 

They let go of each other so the three of them can finally get started on the work they came here to do. Midterms start next week and they all have a lot of work to do. 

Mickey’s midterms are different from Justin and Ian’s so he’s mainly there to help them both out with whatever he can help them with, which is mainly math.

*

Midterms come and go. Ian continues to study as much as he can, preparing for finals even though they are not for a couple more months. He continues to go to every football practice and game. He continues to show up for date nights with Mickey. And he continues to go to every therapy session.

Time starts flying by as Ian stays busy. 

He barely has any time to worry or let his intrusive thoughts scare him. He just wants to catch up and feel like he’s where he should have been prior to his depressive episode last spring. 

It takes time. He knows that. It’s just exhausting trying so hard and still feeling like you’re not quite where you should be.

Mickey’s a big help, though. He’s reassuring and kind and thoughtful—all things he never would have imagined he would be when they went to high school together. He’s so happy to see how much Mickey’s grown and how amazing he is with him. 

It helps being able to have Mickey with him here, telling him he’s doing fine and not to worry so much, and just being such a comfort to him. 

It’s Friday so once Ian gets done with classes and football practice, he heads back to his room to shower and start getting ready for his date with Mickey. 

Mickey thinks they’re just going to dinner at their favorite restaurant but Ian’s got other plans.

He hears a knock at the door so he checks himself out in the mirror one last time. He’s wearing dark blue jeans, a black long sleeve shirt with three buttons near his throat that he leaves unbuttoned, and he throws on his dark denim jacket. 

Ian opens the door and sees Mickey, his hair coiffed back but a small piece escaping on his forehead. He looks amazing in his dark jeans and blue and white flannel top. 

They smile at each other, appreciating how the other looks. 

“We gonna go or you gonna stare at me all night, Gallagher?” Mickey teases.

Ian chuckles. “Both,” he says before grabbing his phone and keys and shutting the door behind him. 

He grabs Mickey’s hand and pulls him back into him. Mickey’s pressed against him, and Ian wraps him in his arms, leaning down slightly to kiss him on the lips. Mickey runs his hands up Ian’s neck and kisses him back, deepening the kiss, his tongue moving softly against Ian’s.

Ian pulls back slightly and smiles at him. “Let’s go. I have a surprise,” he tells him.

He takes Mickey off guard by grabbing his hand and pulling him along with him. Mickey keeps up, snapping back into reality and following Ian wherever he wants to go.

There’s a black car waiting for them outside and Ian walks right up to it, opening the back door and waiting for Mickey.

Mickey looks at him confused, so Ian says, “Part of the surprise. Get in.”

“The fuck are you planning, Gallagher?” Mickey says, shaking his head before getting into the car. 

“You’ll see,” Ian says before closing the door and getting in on the other side. 

There’s an older man in the driver seat and he looks back to them and asks, “Ready to go, Mr. Gallagher?” 

“Yes, thank you,” Ian replies, scooching in closer to Mickey. 

The man nods then turns back around and starts up the car to take them to their destination.

“How much did this shit cost?” Mickey whispers to Ian.

“Nothing. I have a hookup.” Ian winks. 

Mickey rolls his eyes, assuming it’s Justin. The guy loves them and is mega-rich. 

Ian holds Mickey’s hand in his and says softly, “I just wanted to do something nice for you to show you how much I appreciate you for all that you’ve done for me and continue to do for me. You mean everything to me, Mick.”

Mickey looks at Ian with those soft eyes, the ones reserved for only Ian. He leans forward, kissing him softly on the lips. “You know you didn’t have to,” he says when they pull apart.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Ian tells him.

“I know,” Mickey smiles. He looks out the window, wondering where they’re off to.

After almost half an hour of driving, the man pulls over. Mickey knows where they are. They have yet to come here but he’s been wanting to take Ian here. Looks like Ian beat him to it.

“Wait here,” Ian tells him before he hops out of the car. Ian runs up somewhere before returning a few minutes later. 

He opens Mickey’s door for him and holds out his hand. Mickey smiles as he takes his hand and exits the car. 

“What did you do?” Mickey asks him as they start to walk. 

“You’ll see…” Ian trails off. 

They’re at Griffith Observatory. The sun is about to set and Mickey can see a little set-up. There’s a big picnic blanket on the grass with a big basket that must have food and drinks in there for them.

There’s people around. Some are walking around, some are looking at the view, some are making their way up to the observatory, and some are watching them make their way to their blanket. 

They sit on the blanket and Ian’s got a big grin on his face. Mickey chuckles. “How’d you even do this?”

“Had some help.” Ian shrugs. “You like it?”

“You kinda stole my thunder, Gallagher,” Mickey teases. “I had the same idea to bring you here but you beat me to it.”

Ian laughs. “We really are meant to be,” he says with a wink.

Mickey can feel himself blush so he shrugs it off with a “Whatever.” 

He opens the basket and sees a couple beers inside and some sodas. He grabs a beer and a coke, passing the soda to Ian. They open their cans and cheers. 

They sit next to each other and watch as the sun starts to set, casting a beautiful deep orange-red hue in the sky. It’s one of the most beautiful sunsets they both have ever seen.

Mickey lays back, looking up at the sky so Ian does the same. He takes Mickey’s hand in his and they intertwine their fingers, their hands together between them. 

They stay like that until the sun has fully set and darkness appears, the moon taking the sun's place in the sky. Ian turns his head to look at Mickey and he looks so good in the moonlight, his features so soft, Ian can’t help but smile.

“Staring at me again, huh?” Mickey teases, a smirk on his face as he turns his head to also look at Ian. 

“Can’t help it,” Ian tells him. “You’re too beautiful.”

Mickey blushes and Ian swoons. “Shut up,” Mickey tells him.

Ian laughs and sits up. Mickey does the same. He opens the basket and starts taking out some of the food Justin’s chef prepared. 

“Fancy fuckin’ food,” Mickey comments. 

“Yeah,” Ian says. He takes a bite out of whatever he took out, and says, “Tastes good, though.”

Mickey laughs, pushing Ian’s shoulder. They eat under the stars, enjoying each other’s company, and Ian forgets about all his worries with school, football, therapy, meds, and just life in general. It’s just him and Mickey in their little bubble for now.

*

It’s the next morning and Ian and Mickey are chilling in Ian’s room on his bed. Ian got up earlier than Mickey and decided to go for a run to clear his mind, reality setting back in as he remembers all that he has to do. He decided to grab them some coffee and danishes from a coffee shop close by to his place before heading back. 

Mickey’s still in bed so he leaves their coffee and danishes on the bedside table before hopping into the shower.

Ian’s letting the hot water run down his body, hoping for it to relieve his stress. He doesn’t even hear the door open until he hears Mickey say, “Showering without me? How rude,” before pushing the shower curtain open and getting in.

Ian laughs making room for Mickey. “You were still sleeping when I got back from my run. Didn’t wanna wake a grumpy Mick,” he tells him.

“Waking me for a stupid photoshoot is one thing. Waking me to shower with you is another.” Mickey smirks. 

Mickey watches as Ian soaps his chest, the water running down his body, the suds washing away. He licks his lips before getting to his knees. 

It takes no time at all for Ian to get hard with Mickey’s hands gripping his ass and his mouth around his dick. He moans loudly, letting the shower swallow his sounds. 

Ian runs his fingers through Mickey’s wet hair, gripping it tightly, jerking his hips, fucking Mickey’s mouth slowly.

Mickey moans around him, loud. He likes this , Ian thinks, so he fucks his mouth harder, Mickey’s grip on his ass harder. 

“Fuckkk, Mick,” Ian moans before he comes hard down his boyfriend's throat. 

He looks down and sees Mickey was jerking himself off while blowing him and also came when he did. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. Jesus, Mick,” he says looking down at his boyfriend, water dripping down him as he looks up at him, kneeling in front of him.

Mickey smirks before getting up. Ian grabs him, pulling him against him, their wet bodies pressing together. Ian shoves his tongue in Mickey’s mouth, tasting himself against his tongue. 

They make out and wash each other and fool around in there until the water runs cold. They dry off, putting on some sweats and t-shirts before getting back into bed. 

Ian has to get back up to heat their now cold coffees before rejoining Mickey on the bed. 

--

“Fuck, next semester is going to blow.” Ian slams his laptop closed. 

“Huh?” Mickey says, distracted by something on his phone. 

“Next semester,” Ian repeats. “Almost everyone else has an easy schedule. But I still have to play catch up. I really fucked up last year.”

As expected, this catches Mickey’s attention. “Hey, none of that shit. It happened and now you’re working past it. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ian says, almost as if he fully believes it. “So you gonna tell me what has your attention like that?” He nods to Mickey’s phone.

“Uh, I got into a class.” 

“What do you mean got into? Was there a waitlist?”

“Not exactly. It’s kind of invitation-only.” 

“How can something be kind of invitation-only?” Ian raises his brow and smirks. “C’mon, Mick. Tell me how brilliant you are.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? You sound like you got recruited for the CIA. What’s the class?”

“It’s a senior showcase class thing. Here.” Mickey hands Ian over this phone to read the email he received from Lang.

“Five? Shit, Mickey. You’re one of five!” He exclaims as he reads. Handing Mickey’s phone back to him, he grabs his phone from off the table. “We have to tell everyone.”

“No, Ian—” Mickey protests.

“—Too late,” Ian cuts him off. “It’s already ringing.” He puts the phone on speaker.

“’Sup, losers,” Mandy says as the phone stops ringing. “Assuming you’re attached to my idiot brother right now.”

“Charming,” Mickey grumbles.

“I save it all for you.”

“Guess who got picked as just one of five students for a special class,” Ian says, interrupting the Milkovich sibling back-and-forth.

“Ian!” Mandy exclaims. “Athletic and smart, damn.”

“Not me.” Ian glances at Mickey to see if Mandy’s assumption bothered him, but Mickey just rolls his eyes. 

“Wait, Mickey? Shit, really? That’s awesome.”

Mickey blushes at his sister’s praise. “Thanks. It’s nothing really.”

They talk for a bit, Mandy asking questions about the class and Mickey answering the best he can. Lang’s email was short on details, so he still doesn’t know what the topic will be.

Just as he realizes his sister is being evasive answering questions about what’s going on with her right now, she makes up an excuse to get off the call. He wants to ask Ian if he thought she was being suspicious, but Ian is already calling his siblings for round two of bragging about Mickey.

*

Ian has his final game today and he’s feeling a mix of emotions. He’s sad because he loves the game. He doesn’t want it to end and he knows that it doesn’t have to end. He absolutely could play professionally some day if he ever gets the chance, but he’s never going to play with this team again and that’s bumming him out because even though some of the guys annoy him, he loves them all. They’ve become like an extension of his family. His family away from his family.

He’s also happy because he’s played so well all season and he wants to end this amazing season with a great game, especially because he found out it’s being filmed and going to be broadcasted on TV. Not a lot of people are big on college football—to watch on TV—but the stadium is going to be packed and those not here will surely be watching. This should make him nervous but Ian feels so much adrenaline right now as he gets himself ready in the locker room. 

His phone buzzes in his locker so he picks it up and sees a text from Mickey. 

Mickey: sitting in the stadium, front and center, good luck, you’re gonna kill it 

Another text comes in as he reads the first and it’s just a single red heart from Mickey. He smiles, sending back five hearts in a row with an ‘I love you’ attached to it.

He also sees a bunch of ‘good luck’ messages in his Gallagher family group chat. He sends one ‘thank you’ text to them all with a heart and tells them he’ll text them after the game. 

Fiona: We’ll be watching, love you sweet boy.

Ian smiles, hearting the text, then puts his phone into his bag in his locker before shutting it closed. 

--

Mickey watches as the team rushes out onto the field. It’s a home game so almost everyone in the stands jumps up and starts clapping and hollering. 

Mickey stands so he can try to spot Ian. He sees him looking up into the stands, looking for him right back. 

Their eyes meet once people start to sit down and Mickey grins when he sees Ian’s big smile. Ian waves at him before getting into formation. Mickey sits and waits for the game to start then it’s just a blur. 

It’s a stressful game—it being the last one of Ian’s college football career and all—but it’s a great game. Ian is fucking amazing per usual but he plays exceptionally well tonight and Mickey couldn’t be more proud of him. 

The entire stadium erupts into applause when they win. Fans and family rush the field towards the players. Mickey does not do that. He waits by the bottom of the bleachers for Ian to be ready to go celebrate.

He doesn’t spot Ian but eventually he gets a text from him. 

Ian: couldn’t find you, changing now, be out soon

Mickey gives him a thumbs up and pockets his phone, waiting patiently for his superstar boyfriend.

--

Ian finally spots Mickey waiting by the bleachers, the majority of people having left so it made it easier to see him. 

He rushes over and he can’t wipe the grin from his face. Mickey matches his smile and says, “Hey, superstar.”

Ian laughs. “Shut up,” he says, pushing Mickey’s shoulder. 

“You were so good, Ian,” Mickey tells him seriously. “Proud of you.”

Ian softens; he’ll never get tired of hearing Mickey tell him he’s proud of him. His heart aches in his chest and a warmth spreads through him. He pulls Mickey to him and hugs him tight. “Thanks, baby,” Ian whispers in his ear. 

He feels Mickey squeeze him tight before letting him go. “So where do you wanna go celebrate?” he asks him.

“The guys are all heading to this sports bar. I’d be down to go; I’m starving,” Ian tells him.

“Whatever you want,” Mickey tells him. 

Ian smiles. “Then after, we can go back to my place…” he trails off, a slight smirk on his lips.

Mickey raises his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, tough guy? You better not pass out on me right away,” he teases.

Ian laughs, shoving his shoulder. 

They spot Justin about to get in his car so they get a ride with him. Ian texts his family group chat to tell them they’re on the way to eat and he gets a text from every sibling (and Mandy) telling him what a great game he played and how proud they are of him. That same warmth spreads through his body, and Ian feels so good. He should be exhausted but he’s running on adrenaline—happy from how well the game went to how much love he feels from his family. 

He can’t wait to celebrate properly with Mickey later.

--

They’re barely inside the apartment and they’re already pawing at each other's clothes, lips attached together, their tongues moving fluidly against each other. 

Ian drops his bag to the ground before kicking the door closed behind him. He never lets go of Mickey. Mickey’s pushing Ian’s top up his torso and over his head tossing it somewhere to the ground as they keep making their way towards Ian’s room. 

Clothes are littered all over the floor leading to his bedroom, and soon they’re in just their boxers as Ian pushes Mickey onto the mattress.

Mickey chuckles as he hits the bed. He removes his boxers and scoots up the bed to make room for Ian. Ian also undresses fully before climbing on top of Mickey. 

He kisses him deeply, pressing his body against his boyfriend’s, feeling their hard, sweaty bodies against each other. They’re both hard and their cocks rub against each other between their bodies.

Mickey moans into Ian’s mouth, Ian swallowing his sounds. He removes his lips from his, moving them across his jaw and down to his neck, sucking a bright hickey right there for all to see. 

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey moans, his hands gripping onto Ian’s ass. 

Ian trails his lips and tongue down Mickey’s body before taking his hard leaking cock into his mouth. He twirls his tongue around, teasing him until Mickey’s begging for him.

He trails his lips lower, sucking one of his balls into his mouth making Mickey moan even louder—loud enough that his neighbors probably heard. 

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand gripping Ian’s hair. 

“Turn over,” Ian orders. 

Mickey quickly turns around, presenting his ass to Ian. He reaches for the lube and tosses it to him. Ian leaves it there for now before shoving his tongue inside of Mickey.

“Jesus—”

Ian continues to fuck Mickey open with his tongue until they both can’t take it anymore. Ian can feel the sheet beneath him getting wet from all the pre-cum coming out of his own hard cock.

Ian coats his dick with lube before smacking Mickey’s ass. “Turn back around. Wanna see you,” he tells him.

Mickey does as he’s told, his bright blue eyes dark with lust and arousal. He bites his bottom lip as Ian bottoms out. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby, fuck,” Ian moans before he fucks Mickey hard and deep. 

Mickey’s legs are wrapped around Ian’s waist and his hands claw at Ian’s shoulders bringing him closer. They kiss deeply, all tongues moving against each other as Ian fucks him so deep. 

“Ian—” Mickey lets out a choked moan before he’s coming hard between them, coating both their stomachs.

Ian’s right there with Mickey. Coming hard inside of him, he moans, “Mickey,” right into his ear before nipping at his earlobe making Mickey chuckle. 

He slumps onto the mattress next to Mickey, both of them panting hard, trying to catch their breath.

“Wow,” Ian lets out, making them both chuckle. 

“Yeah,” Mickey agrees. 

They look at each other and smile, Ian leaning in to kiss Mickey softly on the lips.

Mickey sees how tired Ian is so he gets up, wets a washcloth with warm water, and after cleaning himself off, brings it to the room to clean Ian before they get under the covers and fall asleep in each other's arms. 

*

Finals are over and Ian could not be happier. The first semester of his senior year of university is finally over. Football season is also over. And soon, university will be over also. He was able to catch up in his studies and he passed all of his finals. 

Winter break is here and he’s bummed they’re not going to Chicago to see everyone. He hasn’t gotten to spend a Christmas with his family in too long and he’s really missing them.

He meets up with Mickey at his apartment so they can spend the night together figuring out what they wanna do during their two-week break. Especially what they want to do for Christmas and New Years.

Ian’s phone rings so he picks it up from where he left it on the coffee table and sees Mandy calling.

He answers, and putting her on speaker, he says, “Hey, Mands, what’s up?” 

“Bitch,” Mickey says before she speaks.

“Asshole,” she replies to her brother. “So I have some news.”

“Spill,” Ian says when she doesn’t elaborate. 

“I have a boyfriend,” Mandy tells them. “Before you say anything, Mick—he’s really nice; he treats me like a queen, and he’s hot.”

Mickey fake gags. Ian smacks his chest and says, “We’re happy for you, Mands! So what’s his name? Where did you meet? Where does he live? Give us more deets!”

Mickey rolls his eyes at him but stays quiet, wanting to avoid another smack from Ian. 

“His name is Nathan. We met outside of a coffee shop. I wasn’t really looking where I was going and bumped right into him, spilling his coffee all over his suit. He apologized even though it was my fault and asked me for my number,” she explains. “Normally, I would have told him to fuck off and leave but there was something about him—I didn’t know what it was and I just had to know. He has these beautiful hazel eyes that just draw you in, and this perfect smile. It was hard to resist.”

Ian coos, “Awww, Mands, that’s really sweet.”

“So he’s rich?” Mickey asks, ruining the mood.

“What is wrong with you?” Ian says in a hard whisper, making Mickey shrug like he did no wrong.

“You’re a jackass,” Mandy says. “But yes, he works for his father’s company which he’s set to inherit at some point.”

“And his rich daddy doesn’t mind him dating some South Side trash?” Mickey asks rudely.

Ian glares at him. “Be nice,” he warns.

Mickey flips him off.

Mandy, used to it, says, “Nope, I charmed the fuck out of him. He’s obsessed with me, and I didn’t even fuck him.”

“Skank,” Mickey says.

“So when do we get to meet this man of yours?” Ian asks.

“How about next week?” she asks.

“What?” Mickey asks as Ian asks, “Huh? How?”

“This is the news I had—well, part of the news. I went to Fiona’s diner with Nathan to introduce them. Yes, me and Fiona hang out sometimes—not often but enough to check-in. She tells me about how Lip’s doing when I ask or how you’re doing. I tell her what I know about you both, too, and how I’m doing. And before you get annoyed that we’re telling each other stuff about you, it’s only because we love you and we don’t really want a repeat of last year…” she informs them.

Ian puts his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, seeing that he’s about to rip his sister a new one. He says, “I know you don’t—we don’t either. So it’s fine.”

“Good. Anyway, she mentioned you guys not being able to come down for your winter break and Nate generously offered to rent an airbnb for us all in California so SURPRISE!” she yells. “We’ll all be there on the 22nd and we are leaving the day after New Years.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey mutters.

“What do you mean all of you?” Ian asks.

“All the Gallaghers—minus your deadbeat parents—plus me and Nate,” Mandy clarifies. “You don’t have to stay with us. I don’t even think there’s room for you, to be honest. Carl already has to bunk with Liam which he hasn’t stopped complaining about but whatever.”

Ian’s stunned. He can’t believe his whole family will be here next week.

“You okay?” Mickey asks him softly.

Ian smiles. “Yeah, this is great news. I was really missing you guys.”

“Us too, so much,” Mandy tells him.

“But wait—won’t it be weird staying in the same rental with Lip and your new boyfriend?” Ian asks, realizing that she’ll be staying with her new boyfriend and ex-boyfriend for a week.

“Nah, it’s whatever. Me and Lip are cool—we don’t really talk, only if we bump into each other if I come by your house to speak to Fiona but like he’s focused on his sobriety, and I’m focused on myself so it’s fine. Nathan even helped me apply to some community colleges, and I’ll be taking a couple of classes starting in January,” she tells them.

“That’s amazing, Mands! I’m so proud of you,” Ian tells her, beaming for his best friend. 

“That’s great,” Mickey says before adding, “Slut.”

Ian can practically hear Mandy’s eye roll before she says, “Pig.”

They chat a bit longer, Mandy giving them details on where they are staying and the exact dates and times so that they can make their way over once they arrive. They say their goodbyes but Ian decides to call Fiona to give her shit for keeping it a secret before telling her how happy he is that they’re coming. 

Ian will get to be with everyone he loves on Christmas—he can’t wait. 

*

Ian and Mickey spend a week together just the two of them. Everyone they know in town left for winter break. They either went home to their families or on vacation for the holidays. 

The Gallagher clan and Mandy and her new boyfriend are getting into California today. Ian decides that they should be at the Airbnb to greet them when they arrive so they get to the location and sit on the front porch to wait for them.

They landed before they got to the house so it shouldn’t be much longer of a wait for them. 

In the meantime, Mickey lights a cigarette and takes a long inhale before letting the smoke out through his nose as he says, “This is gonna be fuckin’ weird.”

Ian looks at his boyfriend, and cocking an eyebrow at him, he asks, “Why?”

“My sister and her new boyfriend are staying in a house with all your siblings—Lip included—for a week. That’s fuckin’ weird man,” Mickey replies, taking another toke of his cigarette.

Ian thinks about it for a second before taking the cigarette from Mickey who tries to fight him off but ultimately just lets him have it. Ian takes a puff and says, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“No shit,” Mickey says before taking his cigarette back.

“But—” Ian adds. “Mandy assured me that her and Lip talked some shit out and they’re good. Fiona said the same. Haven’t really gotten a chance to ask Lip—he’s really focused on his sobriety and hasn’t reached out all that much lately.”

Mickey looks at his boyfriend—he looks kind of sad. He’s going to kill Lip for ignoring Ian.

“No fuckin’ way,” Mickey exclaims. 

A huge limo pulls up in front of the house and the two of them stare at it in disbelief until a young man steps out and holds his hand out to help someone out. 

“Must be Nathan,” Ian tells Mickey before they see Mandy step out of the limo. 

Ian runs down the steps to go greet them, excited to finally see his family. Micky does not. He stays sitting, finishing his cigarette before he tosses it on the sidewalk and slowly makes his way to join them all as they start to grab their stuff from the limo and exchange hugs all around.

“Hey, asshole,” Mandy says as he makes his way to her.

“Slut,” Mickey says back in greeting before hugging her. 

“You must be Mickey,” the guy next to her says. 

Mickey glares at him before letting Mandy go. She introduces them, “Babe, this is one of my brothers—”

“—Her favorite brother,” Mickey interrupts.

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Mickey, this is my boyfriend, Nathan,” she finishes.

Mickey plays nice by shaking the guy's hand. 

Nathan smiles and says, “It’s nice to finally meet you. Mandy talks about you a lot.”

Ian joins them and Nathan adds, “Both of you.”

Ian smiles and winks at Mandy before they all start to head inside the airbnb. 

--

Ian’s so happy to see his family. He hugs them all when he sees them climb out of the limo. 

“Ian, we were in a limo!” Liam exclaims when he sees him, hugging him tightly. “It was so cool!”

“That’s awesome, buddy!” Ian smiles. He missed them all but seeing Liam growing makes him sad to know he’s missing the process. 

“My sweet boy,” Fiona exclaims, pulling Ian into her arms. She hugs him tight and kisses his face. “Missed you so much,” she says between kisses.

Ian laughs, getting a bit ticklish. “Missed you too, Fi.”

She lets him go but places her hands on his face and looks at him. She smiles softly, “You look good.” 

“Thanks,” he smiles back, glad that she’s able to see he’s doing better. 

Carl gives him a half hug before running up to the airbnb and punching in the code to get inside, for sure trying to claim a bedroom even though Fiona is going to rearrange them anyway.

He sees Lip and he looks good—better. “Hey,” he says simply with a nod.

“Hey,” Lip nods back. They look at each other for a second before both smiling and going in for a hug. Lip sighs when they hug, squeezing him tight. “You do look good,” he tells him.

“So do you,” Ian says back. They pull apart and he adds, “You doing alright?”

Lip scratches the back of his neck and says, “Yeah, most of the time. Kinda changes day by day.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Ian says. If anyone knows what it’s like to struggle with a disease or disorder or whatever the fuck that you can’t control, it’s him.

“Yeah,” Lip agrees, nodding. 

Ian sees Mickey glaring at the new boyfriend so he pats Lip on the arm before making his way over. 

*

As expected, Fiona assigned everyone to a room. There aren’t enough bedrooms for everyone to get their own room so people are bunking. Mandy and Nathan get the room with a king bed in it, and Fiona takes a room with two queen beds in it so she shares it with Debbie. There’s another bedroom with two queen beds in it so Carl and Liam share that room. And lastly, there’s a room with one queen bed that Fiona says Lip can take, which he appreciates. With his sobriety and everything going on in his head, the space to himself is needed—especially while staying in a house with your ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend who paid for the house they’re staying in.

They all put their things in their rooms and some settle in but others join Ian and Mickey in the living room to catch up. Mandy and Nathan being two that do. 

They chat a bit about how Mandy and Nathan met and got together, what he does for work, what he hopes to get out of life, those kinds of things. Of course, Ian asks most of the questions and Mickey mostly just glares. 

“So, we should maybe do some grocery shopping, seeing as the place is empty,” Fiona says from the kitchen. 

“I need to go pick up the rentals actually,” Nathan says. He sees Lip come out of his room and says, “Lip wanna come with? Can’t drive both cars back by myself.”

“Uh, sure,” Lip says. “Was gonna try and go to a meeting anyway so a car would help.”

“Can I come?” Ian asks, looking at Lip. 

“To a meeting?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” Lip says with a smile.

“I’ll come, too,” Fiona says. “With Nathan so we can get groceries. Mandy? Mickey? Can you watch the others while we’re gone?”

“For sure,” Mandy smiles. “Have fun, you guys,” she says before kissing Nathan on the lips softly. 

Mickey fake gags but then Ian does the same to him so he just sits there smiling as his boyfriend winks at him and leaves the house, leaving him with his sister and the younger Gallagher kids.

“Great, what are we supposed to do now?” Mickey asks, annoyed.

“Talk?” 

“Hmmph.”

--

The four of them take an Uber XL to the car rental place. It’s not the most comfortable drive but not as awkward as Ian was expecting it might be. 

Nathan does try to engage with Lip often but Lip is a man of few words—always has been. So to help ease some of the awkwardness, Ian asks Fiona how things are going back at home and it fills the silence until they get to the car rental company.

Nathan handles everything while the three older Gallagher siblings wait off to the side, talking amongst themselves. 

“Here you are,” Nathan says, handing over a set of keys to Lip. He tells him which car it is before they all split up—Ian going with Lip and Fiona going with Nathan to get groceries for the airbnb. 

The brothers get to the car, and Lip hands Ian the keys. “Mind driving?” he asks him.

Ian grins, he rarely gets to drive. “Not at all,” he says, taking the keys and going to the driver's side. 

When they’re settled in the car, Lip tells him, “So there’s a meeting at this church near the airbnb that starts in like half an hour, figure we can go to that one.”

“Sounds good. Mind putting it in the GPS?” Ian asks, tapping the digital screen in the car and choosing the GPS. 

Lip adds in the address and the GPS sets up their route. Ian adjusts the seat—Lip teasing him, “tall motherfucker,” as he does—and mirrors before he pulls out of the spot and drives them out of the parking lot and onto the streets of California. 

“Thanks for coming with me,” Lip says after a few minutes of silence—apart from the radio playing the top hits on low volume.

Ian glances over at Lip but he’s looking out of his window. “Any time,” Ian says, looking back at the road. “I know I’ve been dealing with my own shit for a while now and I haven’t really been there for you, but I always am—there for you. You can always ask me for whatever you need and I’ll be there.”

Ian can see Lip look over at him so he quickly glances and sees Lip’s piercing blue eyes shine. “Thanks, man. Means a lot,” Lip tells him.

Ian looks back at the road and just nods, smiling. He’s happy to get this time uninterrupted with his older brother. They’ve both been dealing with so much internal struggle that this is the time to really be there for one another. 

They pull into a spot near the church. Ian turns the car off but Lip stays sitting for a minute. He takes a deep breath before undoing his seatbelt and opening the door. Ian follows his lead. 

They walk to the side door where they see people starting to go inside but Lip lights a cigarette. Ian figures he must be nervous. Lip is still new to going to AA meetings, and this is in a new city so he must feel extra nervous about it. 

Ian stays with him, sharing the cigarette but mainly letting Lip smoke it to help calm him. When Lip is ready, they head inside the church and take a couple of seats near the back.

They don’t miss much. As they sit, the organizer is starting to speak about themselves a bit and then asks if anyone would like to share.

After about thirty minutes, no one else volunteers to speak so the organizer gets back up to the podium. 

“I see a couple new faces in the back. Do either of you want to speak?” he asks, pointing Ian and Lip out.

Ian looks to Lip who takes a deep breath before standing. He makes his way to the front and takes the spot at the mic. 

“Hi, um, I’m Lip. I’m not from here. I’m actually here for the holidays to visit my brother back there,” Lip starts off. A few people look at Ian so he smiles awkwardly. 

Lip continues, “I come from a long line of alcoholics and junkies. It was inevitable that one of the six of us would end up being an alcoholic, too. So far it’s just me,” he laughs nervously. “I’m newly out of rehab; it’s been a few months. I have a great sponsor back home who has really been helping me. I, uh, I don’t really know what to say. It’s been hard. I’ve been drinking since I could remember, and it’s hard not to just casually have a drink especially living in the south side of Chicago. Everyone fuckin’ drinks. But I’ve stayed sober since I’ve been out. I hit rock bottom and I—there wasn’t really any going back to the life I was living. I have a lot of support though so I think I’ll be okay.” Lip nods then before leaving says, “Thank you for listening.”

He makes his way back to sit next to Ian and Ian taps his leg. “Proud of you,” he whispers.

“Thank you for sharing, Lip,” the man from before says. 

A few more people share before they end the meeting. Ian’s happy he was able to come with Lip and support him. It helps to know that Lip knows he has a lot of support and that he knows he will be okay. That helps put Ian’s mind at ease. 

--

By the time they get back to the airbnb, everyone is back. He finds Mickey on the back porch sharing a joint with Mandy. 

“There you are,” he says, crouching down behind Mickey and wrapping him in his arms. He kisses the side of his face a few times.

“Get off me.” Mickey laughs. Ian sits behind him, and Mickey scooches back into him. Feeling his body press against Ian’s, he relaxes instantly in the embrace.

“How was the meeting?” Mandy asks, taking the joint from Mickey and taking a long inhale.

“It was good. Lip spoke. I think he’s going to be okay. I know he has a long road ahead of him and he’s still new to being sober, but he knows he has a lot of support so that helps,” Ian informs them.

“Good, I’m glad,” Mandy says. “I should go help Fiona,” she adds before standing, passing the joint back to Mickey.

When they’re alone, Ian asks, “How is she?” 

“She seems fine,” he says through an exhale of smoke. “When I asked about her and Lip all she said was that they’re cool now,” he shrugs. “She’s head over heels over that prissy northsider though.”

Ian laughs. “He seems nice.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Mickey says skeptically.

*

The next day, the siblings want to see where they both live so they show them their places. None of their roommates are in town during the winter break so it’s easy to show the whole family where they’ve been living. 

Because they’re nearby, they decide to bring them to their favorite spot for dinner the night before Christmas Eve. Their favorite waitress is working and she gives them free chips, salsa, and guacamole for the table. 

Everyone is loud and talks over each other, and it really feels like home even when they aren’t home. Ian smiles and squeezes Mickey’s hand under the table. They smile at each other and join back into the conversation. Thankfully the restaurant is pretty dead so it makes no difference how loud they are. Not like anyone would be able to tell them to keep it down without some kind of fight ensuing. 

*

On Christmas Eve, Fiona, Mandy, and Debbie cook all day. Nathan helps a lot, too, as he’s pretty handy in the kitchen. 

The others drink beer—those who can—and watch one Christmas movie after another curled up under blankets. Ian and Mickey are on the loveseat, and they both have never felt more comfortable. 

--

They eat at the big dining table after they all say what they’re thankful for because they weren’t all together at Thanksgiving. It’s loud, they’re all speaking over each other yet again but it feels like home away from home. Ian could not be happier that they all came to California to spend the holidays together.

Once dinner is over, the older adults all help clean up as the younger kids choose which movie they’ll watch next all together. 

Fiona makes everyone hot chocolate, and Nathan and Mandy help her bring them out to everyone. They all claim a spot—Ian and Mickey back on the loveseat together—before Debbie presses play on the movie the kids chose—Home Alone. 

They watch Home Alone 2 right after but Ian ends up falling asleep midway through it. Mickey strokes his hair as Ian curls up closer to him, his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Ian’s forehead. Ian’s mouth tilts upwards in the corner in his sleep, and Mickey can’t help but chuckle softly. 

Once the movie finishes, everyone gets up to get ready for bed. Ian and Mickey are spending the night with them so that in the morning they can all open gifts as a family and have a big breakfast. 

Lip helps Mickey set up the sofa bed as Ian continues to sleep on the loveseat. 

“Should be good to go,” Lip says when they finish.

“Thanks, man,” Mickey nods. 

Lip nods back before making his way to the backdoor. Mickey watches him and sees him pull a cigarette from his pack before opening the door and stepping outside. 

Mickey goes over to Ian and gently wakes him. “Baby, time for bed.”

Ian softly opens his eyes. “Oh no, did I fall asleep during the movie?”

Mickey smiles. “Sure did. C’mon, our shitty sofa bed is ready.”

Ian groans as he gets up. He grabs his things and heads to the washroom to get ready for bed. Mickey takes his turn after Ian before joining him under the covers. 

Once they’re settled, Lip comes back inside, shuts off all the lights and says goodnight before making his way to his room. 

“Night,” Ian calls back to him.

“He’s always on his phone,” Mickey comments.

“Yeah, he said he’s been messaging and calling his sponsor Brad a lot. He hasn’t been away since being out of rehab. Must be tough on him,” Ian tells him.

Mickey hums. “He seems to be doing okay.”

“I hope so.”

Mickey pulls Ian towards him. Ian lays his head on Mickey’s chest, wrapping his arm around him. He kisses his neck softly and says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Mickey whispers back, pressing a kiss to the top of Ian’s head. 

Ian relaxes into his arms and easily falls right back to sleep.

*

Ian and Mickey get woken up by Liam jumping on top of them.

“Jesus fuckin’—” 

“—Language!” Fiona calls out as she walks through the living room. “Merry Christmas, boys!”

Mickey groans and tries to hide under the covers but Liam’s still jumping around them.

Ian laughs and calls out loudly, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey says, shoving him.

Ian pulls Mickey to him and smothers him with kisses. “Merry Christmas, my love.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Merry Christmas,” Mickey mutters, blushing slightly.

They get up out of the bed and put some pants on as they only slept in their boxers. They put the sofa bed away so that they can use it as a regular sofa again before everyone else starts making their way into the room. 

They all exchange hugs before they all gather in the living room to start the gift giving process. Liam is the only one who gets a gift from everyone; the others did Secret Santa. They had all picked names at Thanksgiving and Fiona picked Ian and Mickey’s names for them and texted them who they got—neither of them got her. 

They start with Liam—one by one they all give him their gift. Fiona takes a lot of pictures of him, smiling the entire time. He’s the last one who’s still young enough to enjoy Christmas in its purest, most innocent form.

The others start to exchange gifts, starting with Fiona. She hands her gift over to Mickey. He smiles as he accepts it and starts to remove the wrapping. 

When he sees it, he smiles and looks up at her. “It’s a new book for you to add more of your art to,” she says. “I know you probably have some already but I figured you can’t have too many when you’re going to be a famous artist one day.”

Mickey laughs. “It’s great. Thank you, Fiona.” They stand and hug each other. Ian smiles, taking pictures of the sweet moment. 

It’s Mickey’s turn now so he hands the gift he got over to Carl. His perfect pick. 

“Sweet,” Carl says before even opening the gift but knowing he’ll love it because it’s from Mickey. He got him a BB gun. “Fucking right!” he exclaims overjoyed.

“Mickey!” Fiona scolds him. She looks at Carl. “Not in the house! And not on any animals or people!”

Carl groans. “No fun.” 

“It’s the one I got when I was around your age. Still works great. I’ll show you a spot later. We can go shoot some cans,” Mickey tells him with a wink.

“Thanks, Mick,” Carl says, extending his hand out to give him props. 

Carl’s next— he gives his gift over to Debbie. He got her some makeup that she wanted and they hug, which is really sweet because they don’t ever tend to do that. She’s next and gives her gift over to Nathan. “I wasn’t too sure what you would like so I hope you like it,” she tells him.

Nathan smiles. “I’m sure I will.” He opens her gift and it’s a sweater. Mickey tries not to laugh and Ian elbows him. It’s just so northside, Mickey can’t help it. “Well, I very much do like it. Thank you, Debbie.”

Nathan goes next. He hands his gift over to Ian. He opens it up and sees a football helmet that has his last name on it and his number. “Wow,” Ian says, taking it out of the box and showing the others. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nathan smiles. 

Ian’s next so he puts his gift to the side and hands the one he got over to Mandy. She takes it happily, excited it’s finally her turn. She opens it and pulls it out, looking confused. 

Ian chuckles. “So it’s a digital picture frame. I’ve set it up for you with pictures and videos and they’ll basically play on a loop once it’s on. It runs on batteries. There’s some inside now.”

Mandy turns it on and it automatically starts playing some of the photos and videos Ian put on there. Everyone huddles around her so they can also see.

It starts off sweet—some pictures of Mandy and Mickey as kids, some of Mandy and Ian from high school. Then the real fun starts.

“Ian, what the fuck!” Mickey exclaims when he sees a picture of himself drooling while sleeping. 

Everyone starts laughing as it’s just one embarrassing photo or video of Mickey after another.

Mandy’s wiping tears away, she’s laughing so hard.

“I know you love seeing your brother embarrassed so I figure this would be a great gift,” Ian tells her. 

“I’m obsessed. Thank you,” Mandy tells him. 

“I hate both of you. Shut that fuckin’ thing off,” Mickey scolds, going back to his spot on the loveseat.

Mandy does turn it off, and they all go back to the gift exchange. Mandy’s up next to give her gift, and she so happened to get Lip. 

Ian and Mickey give each other a look at how awkward this exchange is.

“For you,” she says, setting a box in front of him.

Lip nods before tearing into the wrapping. He opens the box and gasps slightly. “How did you…”

“What is it?” Debbie asks impatiently.

It takes Lip a moment, he seems choked up. “Um, you guys know how I started working at the garage with my sponsor Brad?” The Gallaghers nod, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve been working on this motorcycle—I get to keep it once it’s done—but there’s one piece I need that I haven’t been able to find yet.” He pulls out the gift and says, “Mandy found it. How did you know?” He looks to her, waiting.

She smiles softly, blushing a bit with all the attention. “I asked Fiona.” She shrugs. “I wasn’t really sure what to get you… but I didn’t wanna be fuckin’ weird and just get you a giftcard so I asked Fiona if she knew what you’d like or if you needed something, and yeah.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Lip says before adding, “Thank you.”

Mandy nods, a soft smile on her face. 

Lip puts his gift back in the box. He clears his throat before picking up the last gift and handing it over to Fiona. “Last but not least.”

The gift he got her were a bunch of little things she needed that she kept complaining about not having or needing to order. She gives him a hug, and then quickly, he escapes outside from the back. 

“Alright kids, help clean up—throw away all the ripped up wrapping but keep any tissue paper or wrapping not torn; we can reuse it,” Fiona tells them.

Ian squeezes Mickey’s leg and nods to the back. Mickey nods and gets up to help them all clean while Ian makes his way outside to join Lip.

Lip’s pacing outside, smoking a cigarette when Ian joins him.

“You okay?”

Lip didn’t notice him and got startled. “ Jesus —yeah, I’m fine,” he tells him.

Ian takes a seat at the small table in the yard. Lip sits across him after a few moments. 

There’s silence so Ian realizes it’s up to him to say something. “So that was a really nice gift Mandy got you.”

“Yeah—too nice,” he says.

“Why—”

“I don’t deserve that—not from her anyway,” Lip cuts him off. “I was horrible to her. I treated her like fucking shit and she still gets me the most thoughtful fucking gift.”

“I thought you guys spoke—”

“We did,” Lip says. He lets out a long breath. “After I got out—she was there at the house. She didn’t have to be. We ended shit way before that but she was there because she cared. She told me she wanted to make sure I was okay. I told her I would be—eventually—and we had a good talk. I wanted to make amends, you know? Start the apology tour. She was the first person on my list. She was too good to me and I—” Lip groans. “I was an asshole.”

Ian nods, remembering hearing his best friend crying over his own brother—he felt horribly. He knows Lip was going through a lot too but he definitely did her dirty.

“I really did love her. She’s probably always going to be the one who got away, but I’m happy she found someone who treats her the way she deserves—the way I never could. Anyway, I apologized to her for everything—was specific about it, too—and she forgave me. She didn’t have to but she did. She said she was still very hurt by my actions but that she could forgive me and eventually we could be friends because no matter what she would always have love for me,” Lip explains.

“I’m glad you two were able to resolve it, and hopefully you’re on the path to being friends. I feel like this week helps with that, right?” Ian asks.

Lip nods, “Yeah, it does. Kinda hard seeing them together but only because it reminds me of how unlike him I was to her and it makes me feel shitty. Her gift—it’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve probably ever gotten, which also makes me feel shitty.”

“Don’t,” Ian tells him, shaking his head. “She chose to get you that knowing it meant a lot. Mandy’s never been one to do something she didn’t want, so don’t feel bad. Take it as a sign that maybe she’s ready to be your friend for real.”

Lip nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I usually am,” Ian teases.

This makes Lip laugh and that’s exactly what Ian was going for.

*

Two days after Christmas, Fiona suggests they throw a New Year’s Eve party Gallagher-style. Nathan agrees too eagerly for someone who has to worry about damages to the airbnb; obviously the time he has spent with the Gallaghers so far isn’t enough to give him a true idea of what he’s signing up for.

At Fiona’s request, Mickey and Ian send out invites to their roommates and any other friends who didn’t have to travel too far back to their families for the holiday. They get enough replies that Nathan’s own enthusiasm starts to slip a little, but to his credit, he doesn’t comment.

When Fiona and Mandy aren’t busy planning the party, they join the rest of the Gallaghers and Nathan sight-seeing. Mickey and Ian haven’t done much touristy things themselves, so it’s fun, even if Mickey won’t say it is.

Mickey picks up a couple shifts at the bar that he works at during breaks, and those old enough hang out there one night. Lip stays back to watch the younger kids, and when Ian offers to stay with him, he assures his brother that he could use a break from the group. Ian is still reluctant to leave him, but he understands the feeling. As much as he loves having his whole family together, he is appreciative of the fact that he and Mickey get to go home every night to whichever of their apartments is closer.

During a lull at the bar the night they’re all there, Mandy walks up to Mickey as he’s doodling on a napkin. “What’s that?” she asks him.

“Workin’ on some ideas,” he answers, pushing the napkin towards her. “I needed some extra credits to pick up my double major so I’m doing an independent study during break.”

Mandy looks at the napkin, tracing the linework. “Graffiti? Looks cool, but I wouldn’t expect this to be an approved school project.”

“I’m working on a proposal for a street art mural,” Mickey explains. “Part of it is submitting my own work to be considered. Something Instagrammable that people will wanna take photos in front of.” He makes a face. “My professor suggested I include a plan for future murals that would be done by local kids. Something about letting the street kids do government-approved graffiti instead of tagging all over the place.”

Mandy takes a sip of her beer, raising an eyebrow at her brother’s statement. “You used to be one of those kids.”

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbles. “I think it being government-approved makes it lame, but if it lets some kids get their art out there, I guess that’s cool.”

“Hey, I’m really proud of you, ya know,” Mandy says, more sincerely than Mickey can remember her ever being. “You really threw up a middle finger to the Milkovich name and made something of yourself.”

Mickey waves off her praise, but is happy to hear it from her. “You’re not doing so bad yourself,” he replies gruffly. “Even if your boyfriend is a preppy piece of shit.”

“Mick,” Mandy pleads. “Can you please let up on him? Just a little? He’s…” She trails off with a sigh. “He’s not a piece of shit. That’s the whole point. Make fun of him for his clothes or his money or whatever. But just don’t forget that he’s actually a good guy and way better than any of the pieces of shit I’ve dated before.”

“I’ll try,” Mickey agrees reluctantly. “But no promises.”

*

The night of the party, Ian follows Lip to the front porch for his cigarette break, needing a break from the party set up. Even though it was Fiona’s idea to throw the party, Mandy has gone all in as hostess.

“So what’s going on with the draft?” Lip asks, lighting a cigarette.

“What do you mean?”

Lip raises an eyebrow at his brother. “What’s the plan? When do you have to declare? Just ’cause my life’s a shit show doesn’t mean I don’t want to get excited about how well yours is going.”

“I have to declare after the championship game in a couple weeks,” Ian tells him, trying not to worry about how his team not making the championship game could reflect on him. “Then hopefully I make it into the combine.”

“The combine…” Lip takes a drag. “That’s the, uh, football camp with all the scouts, right?”

Ian grins at Lip’s memory. He shouldn’t be surprised, though, considering how often Lip was forced to listen to Ian’s passionate ramblings about the inner workings of the NFL when they were younger.

“Yeah, scouts and coaches and all that. If I score an invite and can make an impression, then that’ll increase my chances of actually getting drafted.”

“You’re going to get drafted,” Lip says confidently. 

“Fine, then it increases my chances of getting picked earlier in the draft.” 

“So when do you find out if you’re invited?”

“Uh, I’m not sure actually…” Ian trails off as he pulls at his phone and starts tapping away on the screen. “I probably should’ve heard something by now.”

Mickey escapes the house as Ian’s distracted on his phone. “I never thought I’d see Mandy and Fiona join forces like this.”

Lip snickers and holds out a cigarette to him. “Should’ve escaped with us earlier.”

Mickey pauses, his hand halfway out to grab the cigarette, as Ian starts swearing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Ian stares at his phone in shock. This can’t be happening. After all the work he’s put in, it’s going to end like this? 

“Ian?” Mickey’s voice breaks through the cloud. “What’s going on?”

“I- I can’t believe I fucking forgot,” Ian says more to himself than as a reply to Mickey’s question. “I mean, of course, I fucking forgot to do it. I was too fucking pathetic to get out of bed,” he continues, starting to pace. “But how could I be such an idiot to be so optimistic like everything is going to work out? Of course it fucking isn’t.”

“Ian!” Mickey grabs a hold of one of Ian’s arms to stop his pacing. He holds Ian still and tilts his face so he’s looking at him. “Hey, what the fuck is going on?”

“I forgot about the combine.”

“The what?” Mickey looks at Lip confused. “What the fuck were you two talking about?”

Lip explains about the combine to Mickey as Ian breaks free from his boyfriend’s grasp and starts to walk around again.

“Ian, just fucking stop, please .” Mickey reaches for him again. “What do you mean you forgot about it? Did it already happen?”

Ian shakes his head. “No, but I’m not getting an invite.”

“Of course you are—”

“—No,” Ian cuts off his brother. “They send out invitations after reviewing video reels. And I didn’t send one in. Because I was in fucking bed.” Dejected, he slumps down in the nearest chair. “It’s fine. No really, I’m fine,” he repeats, but it’s unclear if he’s trying to convince himself or everyone else. Looking at Mickey he adds, “As long as we have each other, it’s okay. I can figure out a new plan.”

“That attitude is going to fucking stop right there,” Mickey says quickly. “You’re not giving up. I don’t care if I have to break you into the place and pretend like you were invited to begin with. You’re going, and you’re going to impress everyone there so much that they’ll be blowing a load at the idea of getting you on their team.”

Mickey’s declaration is interrupted when a car pulls up in front of the house. Football players start piling out of it, reminding Mickey of a clown car. Sensing the mood on the porch, Justin—the first one out—holds off the other guys. 

“Uh, are we too early?”

“Nope, I’m just too late,” Ian mutters.

Justin looks between Mickey and Lip for an explanation.

“He forgot to submit his video for the concubine.” Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know about this. What do we gotta do to get him in?”

“Concubine…?” Justin repeats slowly. “Wha-? Oh. Oh ,” he says after Lip mouths ‘combine’ to him. “Shit? That’s what all this is about? Ian, you’re all set, man.”

Ian shoots him an angry look. “No, I’m fucking not.”

“No, you are,” Justin insists. “Last year the team got together to work on our reels with the coaches. We took care of yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. If any of us are gonna get an invite, it’s you. We couldn’t let you miss out.”

Ian leaps out of his chair and launches himself into his friend’s arm and starts murmuring his thanks.

“So crisis averted?” Mickey asks. “I don’t have to fuck up the NFL?” When everyone nods, he motions to the front door. “Let’s get this party started then.”

--

Ian has to admit that even if they were annoying doing it, his sister and Mandy really did a good job setting up the airbnb for the party. String lights are hanging down an empty wall—Mandy, laughing, is quick to point out to Mickey how Instagrammable it is—and there are silver and gold streamers hanging on the other walls. 

“The fuck is this shit?” Mickey asks, pointing to a table set up by the door. 

“Noisemakers!” Ian exclaims, grabbing one.

“Isn’t that what your family is for?” Mickey jokes, laughing until Ian puts one of the blowmakers in his mouth with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows. He pushes Ian playfully and pulls him further into the house, Lip and Ian’s teammates following them in.

They find everyone by the table set up with some drinks and snacks.

“More food and drinks in the kitchen,” Mandy says. 

“If I see you so much as look at the alcohol,” Fiona warns Carl. “I’m going to handcuff you to Lip as his sober buddy.”

Ian looks at Lip, expecting him to be insulted, but if anything he’s looking at Fiona proudly. If Ian thinks about it, it is nice that Fiona is being the kind of role model they never had. Maybe if someone had stopped Lip from drinking early, his life would be different. Not that Fiona wasn’t there for them. But she was just a kid herself looking after him and Lip. 

By the time Ian finishes introducing his teammates to everyone, Frankie and Mickey’s other friends are walking in and one of the Gallaghers has the music turned up as loud as it’ll go. Soon, the whole house is full of people, some neither Ian or Mickey can recognize. Nathan’s eyes widen as he realizes there are more bodies than anticipated, but once Mickey shoves a beer in his hand, he’s too pleased by Mickey’s attention to react negatively.

Mandy drags them to the wall with the string lights and takes a photo of them together first, knowing Mickey won’t be agreeable to photos for long, before taking a selfie with the both of them. Mickey escapes just as Nathan joins them and goes to grab himself and Ian some drinks.

Mickey and Ian don’t stick by each other’s sides for the whole night—alternating between hanging out with each other, their family, and their friends—but twenty minutes before midnight, they make their way back together to make sure they’ll be together for the countdown.

With a minute left until midnight, Debbie lowers the music and calls out for everyone to be quiet. Most people ignore her. One of Ian’s teammates lets out a piercing whistle, and the chatter dies down to just a murmur. 

As it gets closer to midnight, Fiona starts the countdown. “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Ian pulls Mickey in close, wrapping his arms around his waist as Mickey’s wind around his neck. “Six! Five! Four,” he joins Fiona’s countdown and moves his mouth closer to his boyfriend’s.

Their mouths barely touching, they finish the countdown together. As everyone around them cheers, they close the distance and start their new year off doing one of their favorite PG-13 activities—shoving their tongues down each other’s mouths.

“Happy new year, baby,” Ian murmurs in his ear, soft enough for only him to hear, once they finally let go of each other. “I have a feeling it’s going to be our best one yet.”

Mickey barely has enough time to reply before Mandy is grabbing Ian’s arm, pulling him away from Mickey to give him a hug. She hugs Mickey next before moving on, but just as she walks away, Ian’s siblings take her place.

By the time they get a moment alone together again, the party is still in full swing—with the exception of a few early ditchers—but Ian and Mickey are both ready to call it quits. It’s already much later than Ian is used to thanks to his strict sleep schedule, and even though he feels too wired to sleep, he doesn’t want to risk messing with his health.

They don’t want to make their way to one of their apartments, so they steal the bedroom Lip’s been sleeping in, sending a text asking him to bunk with Carl and Liam when he finally calls it quits for the night.

Despite thinking sleep was going to be hard to come by, as soon as Mickey’s arms are around him, Ian finds himself drifting off.

*

The start of their final semester ever is soon after New Year’s. Their family left the day after New Year’s Day—everyone was recuperating from their hangovers so they left on the second of January. The following day, Ian and Mickey’s courses start back up.

Ian’s excited to get this semester started. Now that he knows that his teammates sent in a reel for him—Justin showed him the reel to help put his mind more at ease—he feels more confident going into this last semester.

The reel looks good, football season is over, draft invites should be coming soon and they’ll have time to prepare before heading to Vegas in April, he’s not behind in his courses anymore, and he and Mickey are doing really well. 

There’s a small doubt in the back of Ian’s self-sabotaging mind that tells him that Mickey won’t move to wherever Ian gets drafted— if Ian gets drafted. He tries hard to push it away because he knows that isn’t true. Mickey loves him, and he loves Mickey. They’ll do anything to stay together, even if that means living apart for a little bit. 

Ian doesn’t like the thought of them living apart but if it’s what they have to do to stay together, he’ll adjust. 

Ian’s hoping that he doesn’t get drafted to some midwest town with no art scene. He can’t ask Mickey to give up what he loves to move to buttfuck nowhere with him. He needs to stay positive. Ian will get drafted to Chicago or New York or even California—a big city where they can both pursue their career together. 

--

With their family gone and promising to be back for graduation, Mickey’s excited to get this final semester started so that it can end and he can be done with school and live his life happily with Ian. 

He knows that they probably won’t be able to be out and proud if Ian gets drafted, but who knows? Things might change in the NFL world; Mickey’s pretty sure he’s heard of some athletes coming out as gay. 

Regardless, he just wants to live with Ian finally and cheer him on at every game, and create the art that he wants—not what he’s assigned to do. But before he can do that, he still needs to get through the semester, which includes the special topics class that he still doesn’t have more details about.

He’s the last one to enter the class on the first day, but he’s still there before the professor, so he counts it as a win. A girl, who looks like she got dressed in the dark from the looks of it, smiles at him and he nods at her in acknowledgement. He doesn’t give a shit about fashion normally—aside from a sick Hawaiian shirt he picked up recently at his building’s laundry room—but her bright pink shirt and neon orange pants are hurting his eyes.

He’s barely sitting in a seat when the professor walks in. The professor sets up his things as everyone watches silently. “Welcome to Special Topics. I’m Professor Bouche. Even an artist can count that all five of you are here, but let’s do roll call for the sake of it, shall we?”

Mickey’s unsure of what to make of the guy and his apparent uninterested attitude.

“Aberdeen, Nell. Photography. Gallows, Lucas. Graphic Design. James, Maisy. Animation.”

Mickey scans the room to clock who raises their hand at each name. Maisy is the eyesore. Figures she’d be in animation. She probably dreams in cartoons.

“Kwan, Rebecca. Film,” the professor continues.

“Bex, please,” the girl in the back of the room replies.

The professor murmurs something under his breath, but it’s unclear if it’s an agreement to call Bex by her nickname. “And then we have Milkovich, Mickey with the fancy double major in Drawing and Illustration.”

Mickey doesn’t bother raising his hand or saying anything, partially because he doesn’t trust himself not to flip the bird or cuss at this guy’s attitude.

“You will be graded on participation, so you’re off to a great start,” Professor Bouche says. Pulling a stack of stapled papers out of his briefcase, he hands them to Lucas, the closest student to pass around. “Here is your syllabus. Read it carefully.”

“Special Topics: Children,” Mickey reads off the front page of his packet when he receives it. “What the fuck kind of predatory shit is this?”

“It’s children’s media,” the professor replies with a frown.

Micky’s about to snap back that maybe he should’ve written the whole name then when it dawns on him. Children’s media. He’s going to have to spend a semester working on dumb ass kid shit. 

A flash of waving pink catches Mickey’s eye and he sees Maisy’s arm raised.

“This says we’ll be assigned our semester-long project,” she says when she’s called on. “When will we learn them?”

“Right now.” He lists off their assignments one by one. The graphic design student gets assigned a children’s magazine, the photography student gets an ad campaign, and the film student has to do a short film. Maisy gets assigned a cartoon, which amuses Mickey until he hears his own name called.

“And Milkovich, you’ll be working on a children’s book.”

“What?” he exclaims, all eyes looking at him.

The professor ignores him, moving on. At the end of the class, he asks Mickey to stay after. “If you have a problem with your assignment, you can always drop the class. There’d be a line of students at the door eager to take your place. Probably just as willing to go to any lengths to get in like you did.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Is this guy fucking for real?

“It was clear from Professor Lang’s vigorous recommendation for you exactly how you got into the class. Meanwhile, I have a very deserving student who lost out on an opportunity he should’ve gotten.”

Mickey snorts. Is this guy trying to say I fucked Lang? “The only one I’ve been fucking is my boyfriend so it must’ve just been my sparkling personality that got me in. See ya next week, Professor Douche.” Mickey walks out before he can hear a response.

*

Mickey doesn’t see Ian much the first week back seeing as they both have a lot of school work. Their professors are not going easy on them for their final semester.

He gets to tell Ian about the project that weekend over a breakfast date at what they’ve come to call their diner. He’s mid-rant when he realizes Ian is looking down at his plate instead of at him. “It’s bullshit,” he finishes lamely.

“Fiona used to read to us.” Ian pokes at the eggs on his plates.

It’s not surprising for Mickey to hear; Fiona always tried to give her siblings as normal a childhood as she could. But he is surprised by how bummed out his boyfriend is to share this. 

“Yeah?” he asks, prepared for Ian to get misty-eyed over his mother not being the one to read to him.

Ian nods with a sigh. “Yeah, she used to go to the library and pick out books but they were all dumb.”

Mickey shoves a forkful of his pancake in his mouth, figuring his boyfriend isn’t sad about his family, but about how dumb children’s books are. Just like his assignment.

Ian proves him wrong with his next statement, though. “They all had happy families in them. Even the ones that were about what different kinds of families looked like weren’t as dysfunctional as ours, ya know? It would’ve been nice to hear something that hit closer to home.”

Ah, shit. Mickey takes a swig of his coffee before answering. “That’s probably for a reason. Imagine if Fiona had read you a story about the Milkoviches? You wanna traumatize some five-year-olds?”

That earns Mickey a small smile. “I guess you’re right,” Ian says with a shrug. “But maybe it would’ve helped to know that sometimes moms get really fucking sad or you have to live with another family for a bit or maybe you’re going to fall in love with a boy and everything will still be okay.”

“Fuck, Ian.” Mickey groans. “You’re going to make me do it, aren’t you?”

Ian meets his boyfriend’s eyes and shakes his head. “No, Mick. That wasn’t what this was about. Sorry, I just—”

Mickey cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Like I’m gonna hear about poor little Ian and not gonna want to make things better.” He makes a face of disgust and repeats himself. “Make things better. Fuck, you’ve made me soft.”

Now that earns Mickey more than a small smile. “It’s usually the exact opposite, actually.”

Mickey throws his balled up napkin at Ian’s head, happy to see Ian’s goofy nature come out so easily. He’d do anything to keep Ian like this. Even draw some goofy children’s book. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re helping with this, though.”

Ian’s appetite seems to be back with this renewed energy and he starts shoveling his eggs in. “You should make a bunny character named Mickey.”

“I’m not a bunny.” Mickey scowls. “There’s nothing badass about a bunny.”

“Bunnies eat carrots. You love carrotheads,” Ian answers as if that’s enough logic to say Mickey Milkovich is a fluffy little bunny. With a grin, he adds, “Plus, haven’t you ever heard of fucking like rabbits?”

Fucking damn it , Mickey thinks. He’s going to be drawing fucking bunnies.

*

The following week on Friday night, Mickey makes his way to Ian’s place so they can order some Thai food, watch a movie, and sleep in each other's arms. He spent the entire winter break with Ian. After having slept in the same bed every single night, the past week without him felt like an eternity. 

Mickey tries the knob, and it’s unlocked so he lets himself in. It is chaos in the room; there’s a bunch of Ian’s teammates—a few that don’t live in this dorm—and they’re all jumping around.

“The fuck is goin’ on in here?” Mickey calls out.

Ian finally notices him and grins. He rushes over and picks Mickey up into his arms and twirls him around as he kisses his neck. 

Mickey laughs. “Ian, what—”

Ian sets Mickey back down, and says, “We got our invites for the draft. We’re going to Vegas!”

The bunch of idiots around them all start barking like dogs when Ian says that. Mickey ignores them and smiles at his boyfriend. “Fuckin’ right you are!” Mickey tells him, tapping him on the shoulder with his fist. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Ian grins, shoving Mickey back before being pulled into a hug from Mickey. He squeezes him tight. “Couldn’t have done this without you and your support,” Ian whispers. 

Mickey squeezes him back. “Always will,” he whispers back.

They let each other go and Mickey says, “So much for a quiet night in with Thai food and a movie, huh?”

Ian scrunches his eyebrows. “Oh no, that’s still happening. They’re all about to go to a bar, right guys?” he asks, addressing his team.

“You should join us!” Justin tells them, throwing his arm over Ian’s shoulders. 

“I don’t drink,” Ian tells him with an eyeroll. 

Justin rolls his eyes at him back and says, “Nah, you just wanna fuck your boyfriend all night.”

“That, too,” Ian winks, making Mickey blush.

The guys start to toss out their empty beer cans, not leaving behind a huge mess for Ian and Mickey. 

“Don’t forget,” Ian calls out to them. They turn to look at him, and he finishes, “—tomorrow, we’re finalizing our plans for Vegas.”

They all start hollering again, some barking, before they all head out leaving Ian and Mickey alone finally.

“What a bunch of morons,” Mickey laughs. 

Ian settles on the sofa, pulling Mickey along with him. They get comfortable as Ian grabs the Thai menu from the coffee table, and they start looking through it to see what they want before calling in their order for delivery. 

--

They’re barely midway through the movie, food mostly finished, when Ian starts kissing on Mickey’s neck.

They’re cuddled up on the sofa, Ian laying half on top of Mickey, his face right near his neck, and Mickey just smells so good , he can’t help himself.

Mickey moans lightly as he turns his head and captures Ian’s lips with his, deepening the kiss, feeling his tongue against his.

Ian shifts slightly so he can properly get on top of Mickey. He straddles him, feeling Mickey’s hardening cock, his sweatpants not doing much to conceal him. He grinds down against him, eliciting the sexiest noise out of Mickey. 

Mickey’s hands run down Ian’s back and cup his ass, squeezing it and pulling him down closer so their hardened cocks could press against each other through their sweats.

Ian kisses the side of Mickey’s mouth, down to his neck, nipping at the skin lightly. He gets off Mickey and sits by his feet. Mickey props himself on his elbows to watch as Ian removes Mickey’s pants and boxers right off. 

Mickey’s dick is hard, curving up towards his stomach, and Ian licks his lips before moving closer. He leans over Mickey’s legs, bringing his face close enough, making Mickey’s breath hitch. 

Ian presses a wet kiss to Mickey’s inner thigh, doing the same to the other. Mickey moans softly, enjoying the view and the teasing, though he won’t enjoy it for long as he’s craving Ian’s perfect lips wrapped around him.

Ian looks up at him as he sucks a mark into his hip bone. Mickey’s cock is throbbing, leaking some precum as he watches Ian and feels his hands run up and down the side of his legs, gripping his hips then letting go.

Ian trails his tongue to his dick and licks up the underside of his shaft. 

“Shit,” Mickey moans, his hand instantly going into Ian’s hair that started growing back out throughout the break. There’s enough for him to grab onto, making this all so much hotter.

Ian takes Mickey into his mouth slowly, just the head first, teasing him, licking him gently. Mickey’s grip on his hair feels fucking good and with the taste of Mickey on his tongue, he can’t keep up his own teasing much longer.

Ian lowers his mouth, taking Mickey farther down his throat. 

Mickey can feel the tip of his dick touch the back of Ian’s throat and he moans loudly . “Jesus, Ian, fuck you feel so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Ian moans around him, sending vibrations throughout Mickey’s body. Ian picks up the pace, sucking him harder, teasing him with his tongue. 

Mickey moans out, “Fuuuck,” before putting his fingers to Ian’s chin and saying, “Okay, need you inside me or I won’t last.”

Ian removes his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up,” Mickey says, making Ian laugh. 

They make their way to Ian’s room, Mickey shutting it closed with his foot as they tackle each other onto the bed. They get the rest of their clothes off, a mess of limbs moving around each other to undress each other. 

Ian grabs the lube from his bedside drawer and then crawls back in between Mickey’s legs. He leaves the lube on the bed as he smothers Mickey with a deep kiss, pressing his entire body against him.

Mickey smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Ian, holding him close, feeling all the ridges to him—the hardness of his cock pressed against his thigh, the softness to his stomach as he’s not flexing his abs, the warm embrace of his arms around him, the soft sweet curve of his lips against his. 

Mickey kisses at Ian’s neck as Ian gets the lube and pours some onto his fingers. Mickey can feel Ian’s fingers circling his hole and before they push inside, Ian kisses him deeply, his tongue licking into his mouth. He tastes sweet—like Ian.

Mickey moans when Ian’s long finger breaches him. He rubs against his prostate, keeping Mickey moaning out loud, not holding back.

“You keep up those noises and I’m gonna cum just by fingering you, baby,” Ian tells him deeply, biting his bottom lip. 

Mickey wraps his legs around Ian’s waist, pulling him in closer to him. “More,” he tells him.

Ian adds a second finger, scissoring him open, making sure he’s prepped and ready for him—it’s been almost a week. 

“Fuck, okay okay okay,” Mickey moans out. “Need you inside me now.”

Ian gets to work. He removes his fingers, adds more lube to his hand and strokes himself gently, moaning lightly at the touch. 

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey moans, watching him. 

Ian smirks at him. He positions himself between Mickey’s legs and presses gently to Mickey’s hole. Ian plans to go in slowly but Mickey has other plans as he wraps his legs around Ian’s waist and pulls him all the way in.

They both moan wantonly at the overstimulation. Ian bottoms out, dropping his head into the crook of Mickey’s neck. “Fuuuck, Mick,” he moans.

Ian kisses Mickey’s neck as he starts to move. He fucks him deep and slow, hitting him in his prostate with each thrust. 

“God, Ian —don’t stop, right there,” Mickey moans. 

Ian picks up his pace, fucking him harder, deeper, right into the same spot over and over. He reaches between them and takes Mickey’s leaking, hard cock in his hand and strokes him.

Mickey arches his back, one hand gripping the sheets and one gripping onto Ian’s hip. He moans deeply, loudly. 

“Fuck, baby, you look so fuckin’ good, taking my dick like that, you like it like that huh?” Ian says deeply into his ear, nipping at his lobe. 

“Yes,” is all Mickey can let out.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me,” Ian tells him, and right after he says it, Mickey’s orgasm takes over. He can feel it all over his fist as he gently strokes him through it.

Ian can’t hold off his own orgasm any longer and lets go deep inside of his boyfriend, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. He can feel Mickey hold him tightly through his, his hand running up and down his back soothingly. 

They lay on the bed together, sweaty and sticky messes. They turn to face each other at the same time and smile. 

“That was fuckin’ good,” Mickey says, voice a little raspy.

“Mmm,” Ian hums, leaning forward to kiss Mickey softly on the lips. “You looked so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Mickey still manages to blush when Ian praises him. He doesn’t say anything, just deepens their kiss before they get up and go shower together.

--

The next morning, after a quick coffee run, the two of them, along with the boys also going to the draft in Vegas, sit around the table or on the sofas and discuss their plans for the trip.

As they’re discussing where they’ll stay, Ian gets an incoming FaceTime from Fiona.

“Shut the fuck up a minute,” he calls out to the team who are all talking over each other.

He accepts the FaceTime and soon Fiona’s face is all he sees. “Hey, Fi,” he smiles.

“Hi, sweet boy. How was your first week back?” she asks him.

“It was good—”

“—Tell her the good news!” Justin yells out.

“What good news?” Fiona asks, eyebrows raised.

Ian laughs. “We got our invites for the draft,” he tells her.

Fiona yells excitedly. “Ian! That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, yeah, I’m really excited, but nervous too,” he admits to his big sister.

Fiona nods. “That’s normal. You’d be some kind of robot if you weren’t nervous.” 

Ian laughs, nodding his head in agreement. 

“Don’t worry, kid, you’re gonna be great and there will be many teams fighting for you.” She winks. She calls the others to the living room so Ian can tell Lip, Carl, and Debbie the news and they all congratulate him and tell them how proud of him they are. 

He thanks them all and says, “I gotta go; we’re in the middle of planning the trip. I’ll call you guys later.”

“Okay, have fun. We love you! Talk later,” Fiona tells him.

“Love you guys,” Ian says before ending the call.

A minute later, Ian gets a text from Mandy that’s just a bunch of exclamation marks and party emojis before she sends: SO PROUD OF YOU, LOVE YOU, CONGRATS, with a bunch of red hearts.

He likes every message before sending back his own string of hearts with a ‘thank you.’ 

It feels good to have so much support when it comes to this. Ian’s dream of going to Westpoint and being in the military died early on but his love for football only grew and playing professionally has become more and more of a possibility, and for that Ian’s thankful to have people to help motivate him, support him, and just be there for him through it all. He couldn’t do any of this without Mandy, his family, and especially Mickey.

He looks at Mickey, hard at work on his laptop trying to find the best deals. He can’t help but smile watching him. That’s his man.

*

February somehow passes by in a blur and feels like it drags on forever. At the beginning of the month, Ian receives an invite to the combine, and a weight is lifted off his shoulders. It’s not a guarantee that he’ll get selected by a team during the draft, but he’ll definitely have a leg up.

The wait until the training camp feels like torture for Ian.

It takes place in Indianapolis during the week that crosses over between the end of February and beginning of March. It’s a school week, so Mickey can’t go, but it is open to the public so Mickey caves one night and searches online for any content he can find. Nicholas—a quiet teammate of Ian’s who’s local and doesn’t live in the dorms—is the only one of Ian’s teammates to get an invite. He posts a bunch on his social media accounts, so Mickey follows along with that, too, so he can catch glimpses of Ian. It doesn’t hurt that Nicholas is far from bad to look at.

When Ian is back in California, he has a week’s worth of schoolwork to catch up on, but he’s more excited about the future than he has been in a long time, like this real taste of the NFL has motivated him even more.

Their first date night after Ian’s back, he tells Mickey all about it—the drills they had to run, which teams the coaches he recognized are from, and even how one of the fans recognized Ian and asked for his autograph.

“And all that extra time in the gym with Justin paid off!” Ian tells him, excitedly. 

Mickey’s eyes rake over Ian’s body and he has to agree. The extra gym time has definitely been paying off. 

“One of the things they test you on is bench presses and guess what! I did forty-three reps. Before me, only twenty players at the combine have been able to more than forty and none of ’em were quarterbacks. So it was kind of a big deal.”

“Hot, strong, and talented.” Mickey whistles. “So you think you’ve got a good shot next month?”

Ian shrugs. “I don’t want to get my hopes up too much but it’s definitely better than if I didn’t get to go to the combine. Thank fuck for Justin and the guys. I really hope the draft goes okay for them. They deserve it.”

*

It’s less than a month away. The NFL draft is in less than a month. A couple weeks to see where the fate of their relationship lies.

Ian’s nervous enough about the NFL draft, let alone what it means for his relationship with Mickey. Being a part of the NFL has been his dream for a long time, but he’s also been dreaming of being with Mickey for years. Just living their lives together, being out and not worrying about what anyone has to say, finding a cute house for them to grow old in, and maybe with some kids in the future. Ian’s pictured his life with Mickey, and he’s pictured his life going pro, and he can see them intertwined, but he always has this doubt in his mind that tells him that Mickey won’t wait around. That he won’t move to wherever he gets drafted and that they can’t be open and free to be themselves if he’s in the NFL. 

His overthinking must be loud because Mickey puts his hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly where they sit together on Mickey’s bed. Mickey was quietly working on his assignment for school while Ian was supposed to be reading this novel for one of his courses when his thoughts got away from him.

“Nervous for the draft?” Mickey asks him, he knows—he knows him too well.

Ian smiles softly, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s just—” Ian shifts, putting his book aside. He turns to face Mickey fully and Mickey does the same, shutting his laptop and turning to face Ian. Ian sighs before continuing, “I’m nervous about us mainly and what it’ll mean for us if I do get drafted.”

“When you get drafted,” Mickey tells him with a wink. 

Ian rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile. “I’m serious, Mick,” he tells him.

Mickey takes Ian’s hands in his, they’re too big and don’t properly fit in Mickey’s smaller hands but Ian smiles, instantly feeling calm. He rubs his thumb across Mickey’s. 

“Ian, wherever you get drafted is where we will go—”

“—Even if it’s Minnesota?” Ian interrupts.

Mickey laughs, “Even if it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“But your art. You can’t stop doing what you love just to be with me,” Ian tells him, brows scrunched up, worried. 

“I won’t stop doing what I love, I’ll just be doing it wherever you are. I wanna be where you are, Ian, no matter where that is. You are my home. I don’t need to be in California or Chicago to feel like I’m home, as long as I’m with you,” Mickey tells him, his blue eyes staring deep into his soul. 

Ian feels a huge wave of calm wash over him, he believes what Mickey’s saying and it helps reassure him that wherever he gets drafted because he will get drafted, they’ll be okay and they’ll be together. Ian can feel a tear slip down his cheek but he ignores it as he moves closer, taking his right hand out of Mickey’s to cup his face and press their lips together. 

Mickey softly moans into the kiss, slipping his tongue in Ian’s mouth, their tongues moving softly against each other. Ian pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against Mickey’s. 

“You really sure about that?” he whispers.

“Without a doubt,” Mickey whispers back. 

Ian releases a deep breath before pulling away from Mickey so he can look at him. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks, smiling wide.

Mickey scoffs. “Other way around.”

Ian rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop smiling. Mickey pulls him back into a kiss, both of them smiling as they lean in for it. 

Ian could not feel more relaxed going into the next couple of weeks. He’s going to stay focused on finishing up his course work and being able to pass everything so he can graduate with everyone, and he’ll think about the draft when it’s time to go to Vegas. 

He has Mickey by his side, ready to move wherever Ian needs to go. They really could have it all—both dreams that Ian has had for a long time could become reality in a few short months. 

--

Ian looks at his phone, debating whether or not to text Mickey again. It’s not like Mickey has to keep in contact with him 24/7, but this is the longest they’ve gone without talking since… Well, since Ian’s depression when he wasn’t talking at all. 

Logically, he knows Mickey warned him on Friday that he was going to take the weekend to focus on assignments. But now it’s Sunday night and apart from a few texts that Ian initiated, there’s been radio silence.

He’s just about to hit send when there’s a knock on his bedroom door. “Yeah,” he says, expecting it to be Justin. Maybe a distraction from his roommate will keep him from being too clingy.

It’s Mickey who enters, though, slowly as if he’s not sure whether or not he really wants to enter.

“Hey,” Mickey says. “Duff let me in.”

Ian raises a brow at Mickey actually using Duff’s name. Usually he takes every opportunity to make fun of Duff and Dax. Getting up from his bed, he shuts his bedroom door behind Mickey. “Not that I’m complainin’, but why didn’t you let me know you were coming over?”

Mickey shrugs. “Thought I might chicken out on my way over.” 

Ian stills, his heart beating extra fast. After their last talk about their future, he thought they were on the same page. But he’s never seen Mickey act this way before. This is it. This is when Mickey says he’s done. Done with their relationship. Done with all the shit Ian has put him through. Done… with Ian.

“I, uh, I have something for you.”

A parting gift? Ian shakes his head. No, this has to be something else. But why else would Mickey be so nervous and look sick to his stomach if he wasn’t about to break things off with Ian? 

Unaware of Ian’s internal struggle, Mickey continues talking. “It’s probably too early, but I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

Shit. It hits Ian. It’s the opposite of a break up; Mickey’s gonna pull out a ring; he’s proposing. But the panic Ian is expecting to feel never comes. Sure, if he was the one proposing, he wouldn’t have picked his bedroom—well, not unless it was accidentally blurted out in bed. All that aside, though, he’s not freaking out, even though, like Mickey said, it's still early and they still have so much to talk about because who knows what next year will look like and where they’ll be or what they’ll be doing.

“Just gotta grab this first,” Mickey says, his back turned as Ian sits down on his bed and then stands back up again. 

What the fuck is he supposed to do? Should he stand or sit while he’s waiting? What about when Mickey kneels down? Wait, is he even going to kneel? Ian makes the decision to sit back down again as Mickey pulls out of his backpack… his laptop?

“This is a really rough draft, ‘kay?” Mickey says.

“Wait, a rough draft? Of what?”

“My stupid assignment. The book.” Mickey looks at him strangely as he sets up his laptop on Ian’s desk. “What did you think this was about?”

“I don’t know!” Ian waves his hand around. “Fuck, Mick I though you were going to give me bad news, or…”

“Or?”

“I dunno, propose or something,” Ian mutters, barely loud enough for Mickey to hear. When Mickey doesn’t say anything, Ian looks at him.

Mickey’s mouth is open, and Ian can’t remember a time he’s seen his boyfriend so stunned.

“Can we just look at the book?” Ian pleads.

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey finally says, shaking off his surprise. He finishes setting up his laptop and shoves it in Ian’s lap. He hesitates, but finally takes a seat on the bed next to Ian.

Ian looks at the screen, not sure what to really expect. Despite originally saying he’d need Ian’s help, Mickey has been pretty tight-lipped about it, increasingly so the more Ian offers up lame ideas as a joke. But as he moves through the pages, there’s no denying what Mickey did.

“You wrote our story?” Ian stares at his boyfriend in shock. “You wrote a love story for me?”

“I wrote a children’s story for class,” Mickey says, pretending as if he didn’t do anything special.

“Mick, this…” Ian trails off, shaking his head, not sure of how to put his thoughts into words. “It’s us.”

“No shit. We talked about that. You’re the one who wanted the damn bunnies.”

“But I didn’t know you were going to do this!” Ian waves a hand at the laptop screen where the final page of the book is showing.

There are two bunnies—one orange and taller, the other black with sunglasses on—on the beach. It’s their happy ending. There’s even a set of three hearts drawn in the sand.

“Do you-” Mickey clears his throat. “Do you not like it?” he asks, uncharacteristically missing his normal confidence.

“Like it?” Ian repeats incredulously. “Mickey, I love it. You need to publish it. It needs to be in bookstores.”

Mickey knocks into him playfully. “Calm down. It doesn’t even have words yet.”

“I can help you with that,” Ian offers. “I’ll write it.”

“Nah.” Mickey shakes his head. “Focus on your own homework. I can handle it.”

Together they go over the book, page by page, starting with the cover. The same bunnies from the last page are on the cover, but this time they’re in a city setting and surrounded by other bunnies, obviously their siblings.

“Your name is on it, Mickey!” Ian exclaims, still in disbelief that Mickey did all of this for him. Sure, it may be for a grade. But Mickey could have done anything and this is what he chose.

Mickey snorts. “It’s a good thing Milkoviches can’t read. They’d never let me hear the end of it if they saw that.”

Like Mickey said, there’s nothing written on the pages yet, but Ian doesn’t need words. It’s their love story clear as day, a story he knows by heart. 

At first Mickey is portrayed as a grumpy little monster until Bunny Ian discovers that he’s really a bunny disguising himself to appear scarier. Terry makes an appearance as a nasty three-eyed monster, and Ian holds back tears when he sees monster Mickey stand up to him and finally reveal his true self. 

It’s not until later, after Ian has stopped poring over the book and Mickey has stopped blushing at all the compliments, that Mickey brings it up. They’re both sitting on Ian’s bed, his laptop at the foot of the bed, a random movie playing on it but neither are really paying attention.

He’s hesitant, but he needs to know the answer. “Did you, uh… Did you really think I was gonna propose?” As much as he wants to hear the answer, he doesn’t want to see Ian’s face as he responds.

“Not at first,” Ian says honestly. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

“What?” Mickey whips his head at the admission, no longer caring about his nerves at making eye contact with his boyfriend. “What the fuck? You thought I was going to break up with you? Ian, we just talked about this. You know this is it for me—”

“—I know,” Ian interrupts him gently. “You were just so nervous at first that I let my screwed up brain talk too loudly for a minute. But you’re right. I do know this is it for you. And for me, too. So that’s why when you said you had something for me, I thought about a ring.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything to that for a minute, letting Ian’s words soak in. If they both just said they’re it for each other…

“So did we just get engaged?” Ian asks, vocalizing Mickey’s train of thought.

“Fuck no. I didn’t propose. Did you?” Mickey says immediately, even if he was wondering the same thing.

“Nope,” Ian agrees. “I’m holding out for a way better proposal.”

Mickey scoffs. “Who said I’m gonna be the one to propose?”

“Mick, admit you’re the romantic one.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey says, but there’s no heat behind his words. 

He climbs on top of Ian, but Ian swiftly flips them over so he’s the one pinning Mickey to the bed. Their conversation is pushed to the back of their minds as their bodies take over.

*

Mickey doesn’t realize how many players were actually on the football team until the day they leave for Vegas. “Who the fuck are all these guys?” Mickey asks Ian when they arrive at the meeting spot on Ian’s campus.

“The team…?” Ian answers, as if he’s confused about Mickey’s confusion.

“There’s over a hundred guys,” Mickey says, confused. He doesn’t know all of Ian’s teammates by name, but he does know their faces. He thought there were only, like, twenty players.

“Yeah, they’re all on the roster. Most of ’em have never had any time on the field but we still gotta have a full roster just in case anything happens.” Ian chuckles. “It amazes me how you’re a football boyfriend and still know fuck all about the sport.”

“Are they all fucking coming?” Mickey eyes the party bus wearily. It’s big but it’s definitely not big enough for this group.

Ian shakes his head. “Nah, this is just a send off. No point in trying to enter the draft for the guys who haven’t played.”

“Okay, hot shot quarterback,” Mickey teases. “So who’s coming then?”

“Just the first string guys. No one you don’t already know,” Ian assures, leading him towards the group. When they get closer, he shouts out, “VEGAS, BABY!” and the team chants it back.

“What the fuck did I sign up for?” Mickey mutters, but looking at how excited Ian is, he knows the answer.

The drive takes them five hours with snack and bathroom breaks. It turns out the bus is big enough for the players, plus the handful of girlfriends who are tagging along for the trip, despite Mickey’s earlier doubt. The ride isn’t bad but by the time they’re all in the hotel lobby checking in, he can’t wait to separate from everyone else and test out the bed.

“Vegaaaaas, bitches!”

“Is that fucking Mandy?” Mickey whips around at the sounds of his sister’s voice. His plans to christen the room disintegrate when he sees Mandy and Fiona across the lobby.

Ian’s only allowed three extra seats at his table. The first seat is Mickey’s, of course. Fiona is the next one he wants by his side. He considered Lip, but officially, he’s staying behind to watch the younger siblings. Unofficially, no one thought the combination of Las Vegas and sympathetic stress for Ian was a smart idea for his sobriety. His open seat is now for Mandy, thankfully without Nathan who she’s still seeing. Even Mickey has to admit it’s a good sign he hasn’t shown himself to be a jackass yet.

“Hey, are you staying here, too?” Ian asks as he pulls both of them into hugs once they get closer. 

Fiona snorts. “Last I checked, I didn’t win the lottery. We’re sharing a little hole in the wall motel.”

“Nathan couldn’t spring for something better?”

“He took care of our flights. He offered to get us a room, shit head, but I said no,” Mandy replies, jabbing her brother in his side. “I don’t want him to think that’s the only reason I’m with him. You know, like you and your soon-to-be sugar daddy Ian.” At that she pulls Ian into another hug. “You’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Mands. So if you’re not staying here, why are you here?” Ian asks to Mickey’s delight.

“Kidnapping you for lunch, birthday boy,” Fiona answers. “And before you say we don’t need to do that because we’re all celebrating tomorrow night,” she continues, knowing he wants to protest. “That’s a friend thing. Let’s have a family celebration.”

“It’s not even my real birthday,” Ian tries to protest anyway. “You don’t have to do anyth—”

“—Not listening,” Fiona cuts him off. “Now let’s hurry up and get your bags to your room. We have a reservation.”

The reservation, it turns out, is for one of the restaurants in the hotel. Mandy is excited about the all-day brunch, causing Mickey to shoot a questioning look at Ian, which Ian purposely ignores. If it wasn’t for his sister’s vulgar vocabulary and quick comebacks, he’d be afraid she was morphing into a Northsider herself.

Fiona tells them to get whatever they want off the menu. “We started a new savings jar just for this trip after you invited me. I’ve been putting in all of my best tips, and Lip’s been putting in what he can. Kev and Vee have been adding to it, too. Debbie started a lemonade stand with Liam. I’ve been too afraid to ask where Carl got the money he added.”

“Thanks, Fi, but you really didn’t—”

“—Aye,” Mickey interrupts him. “Your family wants to celebrate you. They can’t be here for you now so let them do this.” 

What he doesn’t say is that they couldn’t be there for him then, either, on his actual birthday when things were rough. He knows how hard it hit all of them, and scraping together whatever extra cash they could for their brother probably felt like the least they could do.

They all end up splitting wings as an appetizer, which Ian eats most of. Mandy gets something called french toast bombs that look too fucking fancy for Mickey’s liking and Fiona tackles her pasta dish almost as eagerly as Mickey has seen the team do during their carb loading meals before games. Mickey and Ian end up splitting their dishes—fish tacos and a bacon cheeseburger.

Even if the surprise lunch postponed Mickey’s plans for the afternoon, he’s glad Ian is getting the chance to relax with just the three of them instead of worrying about what tomorrow will bring with the draft.

*

“Nervous?”

Ian shoots Mickey a look that screams seriously?!

“Sorry!” Mickey holds up his hands in defense. Of course Ian is nervous. How could he not be? Mickey’s nervous for him, and a quick glance around the table confirms that everyone else is visibly nervous for him, too.

They’re minutes away from the draft starting.

When they checked in, Ian was separated from his team and ushered to the green room—a smaller waiting room that Ian explained in shocked whispers meant there was a good chance you’d be selected in one of the first two rounds. “Unless you’re one of those poor fuckers who get stuck still waiting there at the end of the day,” he added.

There’s a lot Mickey still doesn’t understand about football and the NFL. He knows the basics of the game and that his boyfriend is good at it and looks hot in the uniform. How the draft works and details about the teams? A complete mystery. 

Last week, Ian sat Mickey down to explain it all to him but if he’s honest, it still pretty much fucking confusing to him. Like why the fuck do the worst teams get first picks? He’s confused about whether or not he should be hoping for Ian to get picked early.

Part of the conversation focused on what the art scene is like in each team’s city. Mickey doesn’t care where they end up, as long as they’re together, something they’ve already discussed thoroughly. He’ll create an art scene himself in whatever city they live in if he has to.

“Fuck, it’s starting,” Ian says, fidgeting in his seat.

Mickey puts a hand on his knee under the table to ease him, but removes it quickly, aware of the cameras around them. They were warned that the live, televised broadcast would cut back and forth between the stage and the backstage waiting room. He’s not going to accidentally out Ian today of all days.

“Good luck, sweet boy,” Fiona chimes in with a comforting smile.

The Arizona Cardinals have the first pick and the ten-minute countdown starts as they make their decision. They end up going with an offensive tackle from Ohio State. The first quarterback selected is in the second overall pick.

“Not surprising,” Ian explains, quietly. “His team won the championship.”

The first team that seems to pique Ian’s interest is the L.A. Rams. California has been their home for the past four years; it wouldn’t be an adjustment to stay. But Ian’s phone remains silent. 

Chicago, which will always be their home, has the twelfth pick. 

Ian’s phone vibrates on the table. All eyes are on him and he lets out a shaky breath as he looks at it. He shakes his head quickly. “Text from Lip. He said they’re all watching at home.”

“Idiot didn’t think what’d a text would do to you right now?” Mickey mutters.

Ian shrugs. “Not like this is a common thing in the Gallagher family.” He watches as the timer displayed on a nearby screen stops. “Guess it won’t be Chicago.”

“Just means you’re gonna get picked by a better team,” Mickey replies. “Right? Or hey, it could still be them in a later round.”

Fiona and Mandy agree with him and offer their own comforting facts, both of them clearly having done their research.

“Tom Brady was the hundred and ninety-ninth pick,” Mandy supplies. “Sixth round! And he didn’t retire until he was basically geriatric.”

But Ian doesn’t say anything. He stays silent through the next seven picks. Seven more teams don’t pick him including New England, Minnesota—Mickey’s glad about that one; he knows shit all about the team, but Minnesota sounds like a miserable place to live even if he did once tell Ian he’d live there if he has to, and the Chargers, a second L.A. team.

And then Ian’s phone vibrates again on the twentieth pick.

“If this is fucking Lip again,” Fiona mutters to Mickey’s amusement. 

Fuck, it’s not Lip, Mickey realizes, excitement building as Ian lifts the phone to his ear and says hello.

After what feels like forever, Ian says, “Th-thank you,” and then hangs up his phone. He turns to Mickey first. “I’m in! They picked me!” 

They both stand and Mickey pulls him into a hug, the voice in the back of his mind reminding him to keep it friendly. They can have their private celebratory moment later when Mickey won’t have to tone down how proud he is of his boyfriend. Mandy grabs Ian next, and then Fiona pulls him towards her, before finally an impatient producer tilts his head towards the direction of the stage.

Once Ian’s out of their line of sight, they all turn to the screen where the paused timer has been replaced with a view of the stage.

Based on the team jacket the man on the stage is wearing, he must belong to the team somehow instead of just being a host or another producer. Mickey has no fucking clue who he is—coach, team owner, or whoever else might be important.

But he’s never been more interested in something a stranger has had to say than when the guy says, “With the twentieth pick, the New York Giants pick Ian Gallagher!”

Some of Ian’s college football stats come on screen, followed by some footage. As proud he is of Ian’s career so far, Mickey would rather watch his man start the next stage of his career already. Finally, it cuts to Ian walking across the stage, looking damn good in that suit and smiling wider than Mickey has seen in awhile, the stress of the looming draft having taken a toll on him.

But all of Ian’s hard work has paid off. New York! They’re going to fucking New York!

--

They get back to their hotel—Cesar’s Palace—when Justin yells out a reminder to them all, “You guys have an hour to do your thing before we’re expected for dinner then we’re hittin’ the club to celebrate Ian!” 

Mickey and Ian enter their room and Ian plops himself down on the bed immediately. Mickey sees Ian laying face down on the bed and scrunches his brows. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

Ian groans into the mattress before turning around and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m the only one who got drafted in the first rounds,” he says solemnly. 

“And that’s bad because…” 

“I’m the only one on the team that did,” Ian clarifies.

“So what? They’re all happy for you. Did you not see them chanting your name all throughout the hotel until we got up here?” Mickey asks him, sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Ian groans again. “I knowwww, but I still feel shitty about it. They worked hard to make my reel when I was depressed and now I’m the only one drafted? That doesn’t seem right,” he tells him, his overthinking brain and self-sabotaging ways coming out full force. He tries to ignore it but he can’t, the voice is loud and it’s telling him he doesn’t deserve this.

“Hey, look at me,” Mickey tells him, tapping on his leg. Ian sits up to look at Mickey. He says, “You deserve this, okay? You have been working so hard for so long, years before even getting into UCLA. Your mental health took a dive and you forgot about the reel. Shit like that happens. Your team was there to help you because that’s what a team does I’m told.” This gets a chuckle out of Ian. Mickey continues, taking Ian’s hand in his, “You’re an amazing quarterback and the New York fuckin’ Giants saw that. If no other team can see that in your teammates, then that’s their problem, not yours. You played great games, you studied hard, and you had a disadvantage because sometimes your mental health drops and all you can do is ride it out. Don’t feel bad that your teammates helped you get to where you are because you also helped yourself get here.”

“So did you,” Ian tells him. “Wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.” He picks up their joined hands and kisses the back of Mickey’s softly.

Mickey smiles and so does Ian. “Let’s go take a shower,” Mickey tells him with a smirk. 

That gets Ian out of his funk as he’s laughing and racing Mickey to the bathroom. 

--

Ian and Mickey are basically last to dinner seeing as their shower went a little long… totally Mickey’s fault and not Ian’s. Mickey gave him the best blowjob he’s had in a while. He must really be proud of him. He knows he is.

They sit on one end, across from Mandy and Fiona who are rolling their eyes and teasing them, knowing exactly why their idiot brothers are late. Ian smiles at them, he loves seeing them becoming friends. 

Ian appreciates the view, seeing his family and friends together, as well as Mickey there to support him. Everyone also looks really good—all dressed up for tonight.

Mickey’s wearing very nice fitted dark jeans with a black button down shirt with the first few buttons undone, and you can see the top of his black tank top underneath his shirt. He’s got on a gold chain as well and his hair is slicked back with a small strand that keeps falling onto his forehead. Suffice to say his boyfriend looks fuckin’ sexy tonight. 

Ian’s got on a pair of nicely fitted dark jeans—Justin specified that if they wear jeans they have to be dark and fitted well for the club to allow them all in—with a navy blue button down shirt also with the first few buttons undone and a black tank top underneath. He also tried to style his hair best he can since it’s still kind of short but not as short as when he’s in season. 

Everyone orders their drinks first when the waiter comes by—a cherry coke for Ian, a beer for Mickey—then Justin stands, holding his own beer and says, “I wanna make a toast—”

The other guys start making noises—they must already be tipsy. 

Justin says a little loudly, “Shut the fuck up! Okay listen, I know for a lot of us, we didn’t get the outcome we wanted today, but our time will come. For now, I want to say a massive congrats to our boy, Ian!” Justin looks at Ian, he’s sitting across them next to Mandy. Justin smiles as he continues, “You’ve had a rough end to last year and I couldn’t be happier to have helped you on this journey to getting drafted to the motherfuckin’ NFL baby!”

The table all yells out a “woo!” before they all cheers each other with their drinks. 

“Oh!” Justin says loudly, interrupting everyone, “And a late happy 21st birthday to Ian also! Let’s get it!” 

They all cheer again, and Ian can’t help but blush. He’s not one for the spotlight on him—apart from football because when he’s playing he’s not focused on everyone watching him. 

Mickey squeezes Ian’s thigh under the table and it feels good, grounding. He places his hand over Mickey’s and they interlock their fingers. When the waiter comes they let go so they can place their orders and enjoy dinner with their friends and their sisters. 

--

They walk over to the Venetian Hotel and make their way to Tao nightclub. Justin secured them a big booth and table and ordered a few bottles—one bottle of champagne, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

Mickey doesn’t like clubs but he has to admit this club is nice. It’s dark but they have strobe lights everywhere. The club is packed, booths almost all filled, people dancing everywhere or at every bar trying to get a drink.

Justin pops open the bottle of champagne, collecting flutes and filling them, passing them out. Ian takes a little bit which makes Mickey smile. Mickey bumps their shoulders together and Ian smiles at him. 

“Happy birthday, Ian!” They all cheer as they clink their champagne flutes together. Ian grins but rolls his eyes. It feels dumb to be celebrating almost a year later but he’s grateful that he has all these amazing people wanting to do this with him and for him.

Mickey drinks his champagne in two gulps before setting his champagne flute down. A busboy comes to their booth with a tray and starts clearing all the empty champagne flutes and takes the empty champagne bottle. 

Mickey grabs a regular glass and pours himself some Jack Daniels, neat. Fiona and Mandy both make themselves a vodka and Red Bull, and Ian grabs one of the Red Bull cans to himself. “Need to stay awake for something, firecrotch?” Mickey teases him, bumping their legs together from where they’ve taken a seat next to each other in the booth.

Ian puts his right hand on Mickey’s thigh and starts to slowly slide it up higher, coming dangerously close to his crotch. Mickey tears his eyes away from Ian’s hand when Ian says in a deep whisper, his face very close to his, “Mhmm… I’m going to do some very bad things to you later.”

Mickey swallows a lump that forms in his throat, his mouth instantly dry. He takes a sip of his drink, Ian watching him, smirking, knowing exactly what he’s doing to him—fuckin’ tease.

Mickey clears his throat, leaning closer to Ian. They’re a breath away from each other's faces. Mickey bites on his bottom lip, knowing what it does to Ian when he does that. Ian’s eyes instantly drift to Mickey’s mouth. 

“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” Mickey teases him. 

Ian’s eyes drift back up to his, meeting his gaze. “When have I ever made a promise I didn’t keep when it comes to you and that perfect ass?” he asks, his hand squeezing Mickey’s thigh.

Mickey can’t help but let out a moan—not loud, but loud enough for Ian to hear.

“Fuck,” Ian whispers before pressing their lips together. 

Ian’s free hand goes right into Mickey’s hair, gripping it before moving down to the back of his neck and keeping him in place as he devours his mouth.

Mickey moans into the kiss, wanting to crawl on top of Ian but refraining—for now. 

Mickey pulls back from the kiss, Ian’s teeth pulling Mickey’s bottom lip with him. 

“Get a room!” Mandy yells, breaking them out of their little bubble. She pretends to gag before going back to her drink and dancing with Fiona near their booth. 

Ian laughs, sitting back in the booth, putting a bit of space between them. Mickey takes the space, needing it because he’s now hard like a rock in a fuckin’ club.

Eventually, Ian gets up and goes to dance with Mandy and Fiona so Mickey stays back, sipping on his drink and watching Ian shake his hips to the music, twirling both Mandy and Fiona around, and just having a great time—enjoying every minute as he should.

Mickey feels someone plop down beside him but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Ian. “Man, you’ve had googly eyes watching Ian all night,” he hears. 

He turns his head away to see Nicholas sitting next to him. Nick’s quiet. He’s a tall motherfucker—over 6 feet, he’s got muscles but not in the showy kinda way, he’s got dark hair—a little on the shaggy side now that the seasons over, he’s pale for someone who lives in California—he must have some kind of Irish blood like Ian, he’s got these like hazel eyes—they’re not fully brown but they’re not green either, and admittedly, he’s very good looking—okay, he’s fuckin’ hot. He’s also never initiated any form of conversation with Mickey before this so it catches him off guard, but Mickey has creeped on Nick’s Instagram before, originally just to see some pictures or videos or whatever of Ian during the combine—Mickey creeps all of the teams IGs for Ian, but he has to admit, he was looking at Nick’s personal pictures as well just because he looks really good. Ian didn’t mind when Mickey brought it up to him when he returned from the combine, it actually got them both in the mood and they—well, they had a great night.

Mickey eyes him, not really sure what to say to that, now lost in his own thoughts. Plus he is very attractive in his black button down shirt with white vertical stripes and black pants, his dark hair longer than the others by now but it’s styled nicely—pushed back away from his face, and he’s got a tiny little hoop earring in his left earlobe.

Nick catches on. “It’s cute,” he says simply with a bright smile on his face. “The way you look at him. Wish I could find someone who looked at me like that or that I can look at that way. So full of love and longing.”

Mickey feels bad for the guy. He’s very handsome but he’s shy and quiet and probably just doesn’t know how to put himself out there. 

“You’ll find it, someday,” Mickey tells him. He touches his glass with Nick’s in a sort of cheers. 

Nick chuckles. “Cheers,” he says softly before taking a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something?” he asks after a few moments.

Mickey shrugs. “Sure.”

“How did you know,” Nick starts to say before he clears his throat. “How did you know Ian was the one you wanted to be with?” 

Mickey wasn’t expecting that. He takes a moment—and a sip of his drink, before he answers. “Hard to say,” he tells him. “We’re from the South Side of Chicago. Can’t really be gay there.” He shrugs. “But uh… Ian’s always had this like light about him. He made me feel things I’ve never really felt before. Mainly, happy.” 

Nick smiles at that, making Mickey smile thinking about how he and Ian fell in love. 

“He—he made me hopeful that my life wouldn’t turn into total shit and that I could have more than just ending up in prison or dead. I didn’t really know he was the one until there was a thought I could lose him. Sounds cliché as fuck.” Mickey laughs.

“It’s sweet,” Nick tells him. “You both have something really rare.” Mickey gives him a questioning look. Nick continues, “True love.”

A small chuckle escapes Mickey. “Yeah. Shit, I mean, I hope you’re right. I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he admits. 

“Hopefully you won’t ever find out,” Nick tells him with a soft smile. 

Mickey nods, “Yeah.”

“Mick!” 

Mickey hears his name, and his eyes dash back over to Ian who’s waving him over. 

“That’s your cue,” Nick tells him. “It was nice talking to you, Mickey. Thanks.”

“Yeah, you too,” Mickey tells him before standing. He finishes his drink before putting the glass back on the table and making his way over to his boyfriend. 

When Mickey reaches Ian, Ian grabs Mickey by the waist and pulls him into him. Mickey goes willingly because they’re dancing right near their booth and people aren’t really paying any attention to them.

Mickey wraps his arms around Ian’s neck, and Ian presses their lips together. Mickey pulls Ian closer into him, deepening the kiss, tasting the Red Bull on Ian’s tongue. He tastes sweet like usual. 

Ian pulls back from the kiss and winks at him before turning Mickey around so he can grind against him. 

Mickey laughs but quickly gets into position in front of Ian, pressing his body back against his. Ian wraps his arms around him, keeping him close. Mickey brings his left hand to cover Ian’s, and his right hand goes up behind him and into Ian’s hair where he has his head leaning over Mickey’s shoulder, pressing sweet kisses to his neck. 

“You smell so good, baby,” Ian whispers into his ear before taking his earlobe into his mouth and sucking it, nipping it lightly before letting it go.

“Don’t be a tease,” Mickey tells him, pressing his ass back hard against Ian.

“Says you,” Ian quips back as he presses his hardening cock harder against Mickey’s ass so he can feel his excitement. “Saw you talking to Nick over there, what was that about?”

“You jealous?” Mickey teases. They both find Nicholas very attractive but they also know he’s mostly straight—he’s made some comments about wanting to explore but no one’s really sure if he’s joking or not. Their attraction to Nick also led to a really good night a while back so he has no issue teasing Ian about him, making him a little jealous maybe.

“Mmm, sounds like you want me to be,” Ian says into his ear. The way he’s moving his hips to the music, grinding on him, it’s making Mickey feel a lot of things—mainly really fuckin’ horny.

“He was asking how I knew you were the one,” Mickey tells him.

Ian stops moving, clearly caught off guard. Mickey turns around to look into Ian’s eyes. “What did you say?” Ian asks, his voice low.

Mickey smiles softly. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could possibly be and the thought of losing you scares the fuck out of me,” he tells him honestly.

“We’re getting out of here, now,” Ian says as he grabs Mickey’s hand and starts leading them out of the club. 

The others ask where they’re going but when they don’t answer, they get the hint. 

--

They practically run back to Cesar’s Palace, Ian needing to be deep inside of Mickey, like now. 

The thought of losing you scares the fuck out of me.

Yeah, Ian needs to show Mickey just how much he loves him and how badly he feels the exact same way as him.

Once they enter the elevator in the hotel, Ian’s pushing him up against the back of it. Thankfully they’re alone and Ian can start devouring him early.

Mickey gasps when Ian pushes him back but then moans when Ian presses himself to him. Ian swallows his moan, moving their tongues together, and roaming his hands all over his boyfriend’s body.

Mickey’s hands are in Ian’s hair, gripping at whatever strands he can, pulling him in closer even though they’re as close as they can get in this elevator.

The elevator dings so they pull apart. It’s their floor so they make their way out and down the hall to their room.

Ian hastily gets his key out and unlocks the door for them. Once the door is closed, Ian presses Mickey up against it. He moans deeply, Mickey lifting his right leg up a bit so Ian takes it, hitching it onto his hip.

This angle feels great—he can feel Mickey’s hardening cock pressing up against his perfectly. “ Fuck ,” Mickey moans before moving his lips to Ian’s neck. 

Ian picks Mickey up and Mickey instantly wraps his legs around Ian’s waist, letting him carry him to the bed. Ian holds him tight, loving the feeling of Mickey’s lips on his neck, his tongue licking and teasing him. He’s sure to have a few small hickeys on his neck in the morning.

Ian drops Mickey onto the bed and he makes an ‘oomph’ noise, making them both laugh. 

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Mickey says through his laughter, trying to pull Ian down to him. 

He manages to, catching Ian off guard. Ian falls onto Mickey. He loves moments like these—laughing while kissing, being playful, teasing. Ian can live in this moment forever.

They finally start to strip out of their clothes until they’re both fully naked on the bed. Ian maneuvers himself between Mickey’s open legs, their cocks lining up perfectly. Both of them moan when Ian slides himself perfectly against him. 

Ian presses his lips to Mickey’s, kissing him softly before deepening the kiss, pressing his body completely onto Mickey’s. He puts his hands all over Mickey—featherlight touches to his skin, all over his arms, his neck, his waist.

Mickey has his hands on him too but more rough—he’s grabbing Ian’s ass and pulling him as close as he can, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on his.

Ian kisses his way down Mickey’s body, wanting to appreciate every inch of his man. He licks at Mickey’s nipples, teasing them, knowing this always gets to Mickey. He bucks his hips up when Ian sucks one of his nipples in his mouth, and Ian smiles around the small nub. He loves knowing Mickey’s triggers, knowing what will get him off, knowing what he likes and doesn’t. Being with him for this many years, being so in tune with each other's bodies, nothing can compare to that.

Ian shows the same attention to the next nipple before making his way back down. Mickey’s hands are all over him, his eyes watching every move he makes—his blue eyes dark with want.

Ian teases Mickey because he can. He sucks a small mark into his pelvis. Mickey’s watching him, his hand cupping Ian’s jaw. Ian looks up at him while Mickey moves his hand to cup under Ian’s jaw, his thumb moving across his bottom lip. Mickey bites his own lip as he does this and Ian has never felt sexier being watched by Mickey like this.

Ian takes Mickey’s thumb into his mouth, sucking it, showing him just how hot he is for him. Mickey moans, pushing the finger deeper into Ian’s mouth. Ian takes it, watches him the entire time.

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey moans as he slowly removes his finger. 

Ian quickly replaces it with Mickey’s dick, licking up the underside causing Mickey’s head to land back onto the pillow. Ian takes him into his mouth in one quick move, swallowing around him.

Mickey’s hand goes right into Ian’s hair, gripping onto it as he watches Ian devour him. Ian loves all of Mickey’s noises—the way he moans, it makes Ian’s dick twitch with excitement. 

He moves his mouth off of him and goes lower, taking his balls into his mouth and sucking them both. 

“Jesus—” Mickey chokes out. 

Ian taps Mickey’s leg and he lifts them, planting his feet on the mattress. Ian removes his mouth from Mickey, moving to grab the lube from the bedside table. He pours some onto his fingers and goes right back in to take Mickey’s leaking cock in his mouth as he presses his finger to his hole, circling it before pressing one inside.

Mickey’s moaning—loudly—and Ian loves every single second of it. He puts another finger inside when Mickey’s ready for it, scissoring him open, getting him ready for him.

“Get inside me. Now,” Mickey tells him once he’s ready. He doesn’t have to tell Ian twice before he’s letting him go with a pop and slowly removing his fingers not to hurt him. 

He sits back on his knees as he puts more lube into his palm and starts stroking his dick, getting it all slick for Mickey.

“You look so fuckin’ good,” Ian tells Mickey as he watches him laying there, breathing heavily, his dick hard and leaking where it stands leaning against his stomach slightly. 

Mickey bites his bottom lip as he watches Ian, his eyes darting down to Ian stroking himself. “You look pretty fuckin’ good yourself,” he tells him with a smirk.

Ian grins, moving back between Mickey’s legs before Mickey stops him. “Wait,” he says before pushing Ian down onto the mattress, making him lie down. Mickey straddles Ian and Ian can’t help but curse out a moan when Mickey starts to lower himself onto Ian’s dick. 

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Ian moans when Mickey’s fully seated on him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Mickey starts to ride Ian slowly, his hands on Ian’s chest for leverage and to keep him from moving too much. 

It’s fucking hot and now Ian’s the one who can’t keep quiet. Their hotel neighbors probably hate them. 

Mickey picks up the pace as Ian grabs onto Mickey’s hips, helping guide him up and down his hard length. He’s going faster, harder, deeper. Mickey’s back arches when Ian meets him thrust for thrust and slams right into his prostate. He moans out loudly that Ian takes his right hand and clamps it over Mickey’s mouth. 

Mickey looks like a fuckin’ porn star like this. His back arches as he rides Ian. Ian’s hand on his mouth covering his screams.

“You don’t understand how fucking sexy you look right now. Jesus, Mick, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Ian tells him.

Ian removes his hand and Mickey leans down, crashing their lips together in a deep, messy kiss, tongues searching each other's mouths. 

Ian’s grabbing onto Mickey’s ass holding him in place as he fucks him harder, hitting that same spot that makes Mickey moan loudly in his ear. 

Mickey reaches down and starts stroking himself and soon enough he’s coming hard in his fist and on Ian’s stomach. Ian’s right there with him, coming hard inside of him, his moans being swallowed by Mickey in a heated kiss. 

Mickey slowly lifts himself once Ian’s done and plops down onto the mattress next to him. They’re both panting, trying to regain their breath. 

Ian looks at Mickey and Mickey does the same. Ian smiles brightly before leaning his head closer to press a sweet kiss to Mickey’s lips. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you, too,” Mickey says back just as softly, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

They eventually get up and take another shower together, quickly this time as they’re both exhausted and just wanna get in bed. 

Ian slips into the bed after Mickey, both now in their boxers, and Mickey’s looking at the room service menu. Ian smiles, moving in closer to Mickey’s side so he can also see it. Mickey calls for room service—a couple of bacon grilled cheese and a side of fries with two cokes for them to eat in bed and watch the first half of a movie before passing out in each other's arms. 

Perfect last night in Vegas if you ask Ian.

*

The next morning, Ian and Mickey pack up their things and make their way downstairs to check out of their room and meet the rest of the team for a quick breakfast. Mandy and Fiona join them for breakfast because they won’t be able to see them again until graduation.

They both give them big hugs when they say their goodbyes by the bus. 

“I’m so proud of you, Ian,” Fiona tells him as she hugs him tight. “Keep up the good work, study hard, finish off your finals, and I’ll see you at graduation. I’ll be the loudest one cheering you on.”

Ian laughs. Of course she and the rest of his siblings will be the loudest ones; he has no doubt about that. “Thanks, Fi. Love you,” he tells her before they let go. 

Fiona and Mandy wave them off as the bus pulls away and starts its route back to California. 

“So, did you have a good late birthday celebration?” Mickey asks him, cuddled up on his side, seated at the back of the bus. 

Ian smiles. “Mhmm, the best time. Thank you, baby,” he says softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of Mickey’s head.

Mickey lifts his head from Ian’s shoulder to kiss him softly on the lips. “Good,” he says simply before putting his head back down.

Ian smiles, holding Mickey’s hand and letting him rest his eyes. He feels more content at this moment than he has in a really long time. 

*

Ian hangs around Mickey’s apartment more than usual the rest of the semester, feeling a little awkward around his own roommates. They’re supportive of and happy for Ian, but he still feels bad being excited about his own success around them. Nicholas is the only other player who ended up getting drafted. Minnesota picked him up in the seventh round, and for his sake, Mickey hopes his earlier judgement about the state isn’t right. 

From what Ian’s told Mickey, most of the players have accepted their fates and are figuring out what their next steps will be, but a handful—Justin included—are sticking it out as free agents, hoping they’ll get signed by a team over the summer.

Ian’s frequent presence is helpful as the semester draws closer to an end. Mickey practices presenting his children’s book to Ian—a requirement for the class he seriously considers taking a zero on. But if Professor Douche’s behavior all semester is an indicator of anything, it’s that he’d probably fail Mickey completely and stop him from graduating.

Ian embodies the role of supportive boyfriend that he is well, cheering him on during the first few practice runs, and then takes a couple turns pretending to be a classmate, full of questions and constructive criticism. Mickey’s only able to get through one attempt at presenting while Ian plays the role of asshole professor—Ian having told him he’ll need to practice not blowing up—before he decides he’s had enough and he’ll accept whatever grade he gets. 

When the day finally comes, he has to first sit through all of the other presentations first. Part of his grade is asking at least one question during each of them. Somehow, he manages to hold back the questions he really wants to ask—like why the fuck would anyone think an ad campaign for school supplies would really appeal to kids—and comes up with passable enough ones.

When it’s his turn, he hands out copies of his book. These are only printed with a simple binding, not like the one Mickey gave Ian last night, calling it an early graduation gift. For Ian he had the book professionally bound and even added a sappy as all shit dedication page.

This life wouldn’t be possible without you, Ian.

He suffers through the presentation, but at least he’s able to enjoy the surprised look on his asshole professor’s face. The questions from his classmates are torture, too, because instead of asking about the artwork, they all focus on themes in the book and Mickey’s inspiration.

When he finally gets out of the class, he texts Ian to let him know.

Ian [1:38pm]: proud of u!!! none of this would be possible without u either

--

Finals are over. College is over. 

He did it. Mickey actually finished four years of university. 

Mickey Milkovich is about to be a college graduate. The first Milkovich to ever graduate high school, let alone college. 

Mickey feels a sense of pride when he realizes this. He doesn’t associate himself much with his Milkovich family. His dad is the fuckin’ anti-Christ who tried to kill him for being gay. However, he’s still proud to be the first in his family to finish four years of university, even if it is an art school.

Mickey is really talented and he’s been believing in himself more and more throughout these four years. Especially once Ian accomplished his dream of getting drafted to the NFL. It made him proud of his boyfriend in so many ways, but also proud of himself for how far he’s come in life. He realizes that now he can also accomplish his dreams just like Ian is because he has Ian by his side. 

When they got back from Vegas there wasn’t any time to even focus on what’s to come after graduating. All of their focus was on finishing up their courses and doing really well on their final exams. 

Now that school is finished and graduation is in a few days for both of them, Mickey has a lot of time to think. 

His main thought is—what the fuck is he gonna do once they get to New York?

Ian has the NFL. He has training camp and it’s all ‘go, go, go’ for Ian once they step foot in New York, which is fine, he’s happy for him. He’s just starting to overthink and get nervous about what’s next for himself. 

He knows Ian will be making more money than either of them have ever seen before—ever even thought about having before—but he didn’t waste time and money on college to just be Ian’s sugar baby. He wants to make a name for himself. He wants to continue his art and hopefully that’ll make him money, too.

Mickey’s slowly packing up his apartment. Slowly being the keyword. He’s got clothes and books everywhere and he’s sitting on his bed on his laptop.

He’s alone so he’s blasting some Black Sabbath while he types away on his laptop. Trying to find any idea of what he should do.

Mickey sees a keyword—gallery—and his mind flashes back to two years ago. One of his professors mentioned that if it appealed to him, he could open a gallery one day.

Mickey deletes his search and types something new in. 

gallery spaces to rent in New York

Mickey doesn’t have the money to buy a space, nor does he know if it’ll even be successful so renting would be a good place to start. 

He sifts through many different links but doesn’t really find anything in his budget or in the neighborhood he would like to be in. 

Mickey’s also unsure of where they’re even going to live yet once they’re in New York so looking for a space to rent is a moot point right now, but he’s satisfied with knowing that this is something that could become a reality for him very soon. 

He puts his laptop on the bed next to him and gets back up to continue his packing. 

--

Ian knocks on Mickey’s door but when he hears the music, he knows Mickey won’t hear his knocks so he tries the knob and sure enough it was left open for him. 

Ian makes his way inside and spots Mickey in the living room with a box. 

“Hey,” he says loudly enough to get Mickey’s attention.

Mickey flinches slightly, caught off guard, but covers it up quickly with a nod of his head and a quick, “Hey.”

Ian goes over to him and kisses him softly on the lips. 

Mickey lowers the music so they can actually hear each other. “How was your last exam?” he asks him.

Ian had his final exam today; it was three hours long so he just got out about an hour ago before he went home to quickly shower and change and make his way over to Mickey’s.

Ian slumps down onto the sofa, exhausted. He smiles, though, grateful for how thoughtful Mickey is. “It was long as fuck but good. I mean, I think I did well,” he tells him. 

Mickey puts what he was holding down into the box before going to sit next to him. He’s sitting facing Ian, his body pressed up against Ian’s side since he’s sitting facing the TV. Mickey puts his hand on Ian’s face, turning it to look at him. 

Ian smiles when he sees Mickey’s beautiful blue eyes full of concern. Mickey asks, “You okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am.” Ian chuckles. “I’m okay, though. Don’t worry.”

Mickey searches his eyes, making sure he’s telling the truth. Last year was hard not only for himself but for Mickey, too. He loves that Mickey is so concerned about him and shows how much he truly does love him, but he hopes that eventually Mickey can stop worrying so much about him and not be afraid that he’s going to miss the signs of another episode happening.

Satisfied with what he saw in his eyes, Mickey nods. “You hungry? I can order some pizza if you’re down,” he tells him.

Ian smiles brightly. “Yes, please,” he says before nuzzling in closer to Mickey. 

Mickey laughs and shoves Ian off him to get up and grab his phone from his bedroom where he also shuts off the music.

--

“I’m stuffed,” Ian says once he finishes his fourth slice of pizza.

He slumps back into the cushions, getting closer to Mickey seeing as he’s also done eating. Mickey kisses his forehead and Ian can’t help but smile. He loves when Mickey does that.

“So I was looking at gallery spaces to maybe rent when we move to New York,” Mickey tells him out of the blue.

This gets Ian’s attention. He sits up and faces Mickey. “Really? You wanna open your own gallery?” he asks, a big smile on his face.

Mickey rolls his eyes at Ian’s excitement. “Maybe. I don’t know, man. I was tryna think of what I can do for work in New York since you’re going to be starting right away with training and all that shit,” he tells him.

“Did you find anything?” Ian asks.

Mickey shakes his head. “Nah, not really. Everything I saw was out of my budget to rent or wasn’t in the neighborhood I wanted. Anyway, I don’t even know yet where we’re gonna live in New York so maybe I’ll look more into it when we’re there or something and just get a bartending job in the meantime.”

Ian furrows his brows. “What? No way. You don’t need to get a bartending job. Also, we can buy a gallery; you don’t have to rent one,” he tells Mickey.

Mickey knows Ian will be making money now—a lot of money. There’s no need for him to rent a space or work part-time before finding one.

“Nah man, I’m not gonna be your fuckin’ sugar baby or some shit,” Mickey tells him. “You got your family to help. I know you said you already wanna buy us a house, too. I ain’t gonna make you also pay for my job basically. I need to do this on my own.”

Ian understands. Mickey has pride and he’s never taken a handout from anyone. He isn’t gonna start now. 

“This isn’t a handout though, Mick. We’re partners. What’s mine is yours and all that crap,” Ian tells him with a wink.

Mickey shakes his head. “I know, but still—I don’t feel right doing that. I love you, and I appreciate you wanting to help but I need to do this on my own. We are partners but I don’t want to feel like you’re not and that you’re my sugar daddy.”

Ian accepts it. He can’t do much else about it yet. “Okay,” he says simply. “If that’s what you want—”

“—It is.”

“But I’m still buying us a nice big house and you can’t talk me out of it,” Ian says with a proud smile. 

Mickey rolls his eyes but he’s got a smile on his face. 

“Now call me daddy again,” Ian teases, pushing Mickey back on the couch and draping himself over him.

Mickey’s laughing until Ian’s firmly on top of him. “Yeah, you liked that huh? Fuckin’ freak,” he teases him right back, making Ian laugh.

Their laughter subsides as they start kissing and things get heated pretty quickly. When does it not?

*

Today is Ian’s graduation. He’s excited but nervous. 

His college football career and his college life is over, but his true adult life is about to begin. And so is his career in the NFL.

Ian still gets goosebumps when he thinks about it.

He’s grateful that Mickey’s graduation is tomorrow so that they can be at each other’s to cheer each other on and support one another. 

He woke up in Mickey’s arms that morning so he got to see him before he had to leave to get ready but he hasn’t seen his family yet.

The Gallaghers plus Mandy and Nathan are making their way to California this morning. Ian probably won’t get a chance to see them until after the ceremony is done.

He’s grateful Mickey did a bit of bribing to get enough tickets for everyone to attend. 

Ian gets a text from Mickey letting him know they’ve all made it and are sitting in the first row of the guest seating. Mickey made sure to get there early to get close seats.

It takes a while but soon the entire graduating class is being called up one by one. 

“Ian Gallagher,” he hears his name being called. “Ian Gallagher was the quarterback for our school’s football team and has recently been drafted to the New York Giants.” An intense amount of cheering starts happening—not only from his family. He didn’t know that would be announced today.

He laughs to himself as he makes his way across the stage to accept his diploma. His face feels beet red. 

“Thank you,” he says when he reaches the dean. 

“Congratulations,” he says back.

Once it’s handed to him and he shakes the dean’s hand, he looks out into the crowd and sees all of his siblings standing and cheering, as well as the love of his life, and Mandy and her boyfriend.

“WAY TO GO, IAN!” 

“WE LOVE YOU!”

“THAT’S MY BROTHER!”

“NFL AINT READY FOR A GALLAGHER!”

Ian laughs at all the comments he hears—so does the crowd. They all start clapping for him again before he makes his way off the stage to go back to his seat.

The ceremony finally ends with a “Congratulations to the graduating class of 2023!” 

Everyone starts tossing their caps in the air, but Ian doesn’t, he wants to keep his. He’s the first Gallagher to graduate from college. It’s monumental. He’s proud of himself for all the work he put in even when things weren’t good and didn’t go his way. 

Ian makes his way through the crowd of people, thanking them when they tell him congrats. He finds his family and hugs Mickey instantly—the first one in his line of vision. 

“Fuckin’ proud of you, Ian,” he whispers in his ear, hugging him tightly. 

“Thanks, baby,” he whispers before letting him go. 

Now that the dean told everyone there he’s in the NFL, he can’t do much more with Mickey here so he moves on to hug Fiona and the rest of his family, accepting all their well wishes and love. 

“Let’s go take some pictures,” Fiona tells them once all the hugging is out of the way.

They all make their way to a spot with no one around where they can see the school perfectly. Fiona takes pictures of Ian with everyone one by one. Then Mandy takes a group picture of all the Gallaghers, and then it’s Ian and Mickey, Ian and Mandy—everyone gets a turn, before it’s just a bunch of Ian alone. Some of the team make their way to them, too, so Fiona takes a bunch of pictures of them all together. 

They say their goodbyes with promises to keep in touch and see each other soon. 

Fiona starts crying after all the pictures are taken and it’s just them again. 

“What’s wrong?” Ian asks her, going to her side.

She holds his arm and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just so fucking proud of you, kiddo. You had so much stacked against you, but you did it. You achieved your goal and you get to live out your dream. Nobody is more deserving than you, sweet boy. I love you so much,” she tells him through her tears.

Ian can’t help but cry, too, tears slipping down his face. It means everything to him to know how proud his family is of him, especially Fiona. She’s always been a mom to them—Monica never really was an actual mother to them. Fiona did it all and he wouldn’t be where he is now without her. 

“Couldn’t have done any of this without you, Fi,” he tells her, hugging her tight. When they pull apart, he tells her, “You helped motivate me and push me to be whatever I wanted to be. You never made me feel like I was less capable or deserving because of my disorder. Thank you for always being there for me. I love you.”

Fiona wipes her tears away and laughs. “God, I’m sure I look like a fuckin’ mess right now,” she says, squeezing Ian’s hand. 

“You look great,” he winks.

“Okay, enough of the sap,” Fiona says. “Who’s hungry?”

Everyone agrees. 

Once they’re all ready, they make their way over to the two rental cars Nathan rented for them. Nathan drives one with Mandy, Ian, Mickey, and Carl in it, and Lip drives the other with Fiona, Debbie, and Liam. 

They find a Chinese restaurant nearby that Ian and Mickey have ordered from a bunch of times and make their way inside. 

This is exactly how Ian wants to spend his graduation day, eating with his family and celebrating how far they’ve all come these past four years.

*

They do it all again the next day for Mickey’s graduation. Ian makes sure he’s early, even if his family isn’t. He is getting the closest row possible for his man’s graduation.

He takes a selfie of himself and all the reserved seats next to him that are currently all empty and sends it over to Mickey with ‘secured the bag’.

Mickey laughs at the text. His boyfriend’s a fuckin’ geek and he loves him more than words can even describe.

The ceremony takes hours, just like Ian’s did yesterday, and Mickey’s getting restless. He just wants to get this over with. 

Fuckin’ finally his name gets called. “Mikhailo Milkovich.”

The cheering is almost deafening and Mickey can’t help but smile. He’s grateful to the Gallaghers for completely opening their hearts to him and making him really feel like he’s a part of their family. He would never say it because that isn’t who he is, but he’s sure they know this. They know his family and how they basically disowned him when he came out so he’s sure the Gallagher siblings know how much he loves them and is grateful for their support of him and of his relationship with Ian. 

He accepts the diploma, shakes the dean’s hand, amd then looks out into the crowd and throws up a middle finger.

He sees the entire Gallagher/Milkovich clan standing, clapping, and cheering him on, and his heart beats extra hard in his chest. 

Once the ceremony is finally done, they do as they did the day before—take a shit ton of pictures that Mickey complains about taking the entire time even though he tells Fiona to send them and the ones from Ian’s ceremony all over instantly. He really wants to frame the ones of them together on both their graduations and hang them up in their new home they’ll be getting in New York. He’s so proud of himself and of Ian and of them as a couple. They’ve grown so much yet their love has not wavered once. 

Ian kisses Mickey on the lips, holding him close. When he pulls back he says, “I am so fucking proud of you, Mickey Milkovich.”

Mickey blushes so he kisses Ian again. “Proud of us,” he tells him when they pull apart.

--

“So what’s the next step?” Fiona asks, once they’re finishing up their meal celebrating Mickey.

Ian swallows his bite and says, “Once we’re all settled up here we’re going to come back home for a bit. Gotta get the rest of our things then we’re heading to New York a little early. Wanna spend some time in the city with this one—” He knocks his shoulder into Mickey’s. “—before training begins.”

“So exciting,” Debbie tells them. “Can’t wait to visit you guys there.”

The rest of the Gallaghers all agree. None of them had ever been outside of Chicago until Ian moved to California so they’re excited to visit a new state. 

“Do you have a plan for what you’re going to do out there, Mick?” Fiona asks him.

Mickey clears his throat. “Uh yeah, sort of.”

“Mickey wants to open his own gallery,” Ian says proudly, a big smile on his face. He puts his hand on Mickey’s leg under the table and squeezes. 

Mickey smiles at him, covering his hand with his own. 

“That’s exciting!” Fiona tells him.

“Yeah, that’s amazing, Mick,” Mandy adds.

“Nothings set yet,” he tells them. “But once we’re there, I’m gonna see what kind of spaces are for rent.”

“You’ll find something,” Fiona winks. “I have a lot of confidence in you, Milkovich.”

“Thanks,” Mickey blushes. It means a lot to hear that from the true matriarch of the family seeing as he lost his mother at such a young age.

--

Later that night, when the family are all in their hotel rooms getting a good night's rest before their early flight the next day, Ian and Mickey are cuddling in Mickey’s bed. 

Mickey’s phone chimes so he reaches for it on his bedside table. It’s a text from Fiona—of course she’s still awake—with an attachment of all of the pictures from today.

He scrolls through them all with Ian, and they’re both grinning when they see the last photo.

Fiona captured a shot of when Ian kissed Mickey. 

“This is so being framed,” Ian tells him as he grabs the phone and looks at it closer. 

Mickey laughs, snatching the phone back and putting it down. He moves back into Ian’s space, cuddling right into his side. “Agreed,” he murmurs before pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Ian’s jaw. 

“Night, baby,” Ian whispers, pulling Mickey in closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Night,” he says softly.

Mickey can get used to this feeling for the rest of his life.

*

They stick around in L.A. after their family goes back home long enough to finish packing up and saying goodbye to their friends one more time—properly—before they leave for Chicago. Ian had to leave his dorm first, but thankfully Frankie planned to stick around instead of moving anywhere else so they’ve been able to stick around Mickey’s off-campus apartment longer since finals ended.

Packing up takes them less time than anticipated. With money no longer being a worry for the first real time in his life, Ian donates most of his stuff to the school to be given out to students in need in the fall. He only keeps things he deems sentimental—so anything related to Mickey or football—and enough clothes to get by. Mickey has it even easier, not having accumulated as much stuff as Ian. 

Mickey’s friend Zoey is headed to New York, too, so they pay her to take their stuff in the UHaul she’s driving across the country and leave it in her storage unit until they’re ready for it. Mickey won’t admit it, but it’s nice to know he’ll have a friend in the city.

Ian doesn’t have to report to training camp until mid-July so their first stop is Chicago. They end up able to catch an earlier flight than planned, which is why when their cab pulls up to the Gallagher house, they’re able to surprise Ian’s family as they’re decking the porch in blue, red, and white decorations. Everyone’s too happy to see Ian and Mickey to be upset that their Giants-themed surprise party isn’t going to be a surprise.

Their stay in Chicago is short, but their goal is really just to pick up what the rest of the stuff they’ve left there, especially the winter clothes that weren’t necessary in California but they’ll need in New York once summer is over. They’re eager to spend the majority of time before training camp finding a home and getting settled.

When it’s finally time for them to leave, Ian can’t help but think about when they first left four years ago. He’s exactly where he hoped he’d be, but it feels surreal that it’s actually happening. Being back in Chicago, back in the house where his family had to cheat and scam to survive most days, it hits him how truly lucky he is. Yeah, he’s put a lot of work into football and his mental health but a lot of his teammates worked hard, too, and their football careers are over. And they definitely don’t have Mickey by their side like he does.

It’s a good fucking time to be Ian Gallagher.

--

“Holy shit.” Mickey drops his bag on the floor as he looks around their hotel suite. “What did you do? Google most expensive fucking hotels in New York?”

Ian’s cheeks flush at how close Mickey’s joke is to being accurate. Most expensive may not have been his exact search, but he did look up the best hotels in New York, and well, is there really a difference? 

The hotel is more extravagant and luxurious than anything either of them have ever had—or even need. He has so many plans for what to do with the signing bonus check he received a few days after the draft. He wants to help his family. Buy a house and enjoy not being worried about losing it. Save money that’s not just stray bills and coins shoved in an empty coffee can. But right now he wants to spoil Mickey.

“You like it?’ Ian asks nervously. He didn’t think about whether Mickey might think this was too much, too fancy for them. Stupid maybe.

“Like it?” Mickey repeats as he walks around, Ian following him. When they walk into the bathroom, Mickey lets out a whistle. “I know I’m going to love putting that bathtub to good use,” he says with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.

“It’s not too much?” Ian asks.

Mickey looks at him strangely. “Why are you worried about the team spoiling you?”

“Oh, it’s not… They’re not…” Ian sighs, trying to figure out what to say. There’s a conversation that they really need to have, but he’s not ready to have it yet. “Because we’re here earlier than I need to be for training, I’m footing the bill right now.”

“Noted,” Mickey replies with a nod. “No destroying the hotel room or it’s on you,” he jokes as he leaves the bathroom, Ian following him again. “So are we going to test this bed out or what?”

Ian shoves the avoided conversation to the back of his mind, which isn’t a hard feat as he watches his boyfriend start to undress.

--

They spend a few days exploring the city before Mickey gets serious about finding a gallery space. Most of the places he bookmarked while starting to look in L.A. don’t pan out. They’re either already taken or not looking for long term leases—if he has to hear another hipster talk about what good business stupid pop up shops are, he’s gonna punch someone. 

On a day Mickey seems more frustrated than usual, Ian suggests they take a walk around Brooklyn and check out some other galleries for inspiration. Mickey doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t think seeing other artists living out his dream will help his mood, so he agrees. 

It turns out, though, that Ian knows what Mickey needs even before he does. They find a block with a handful of galleries, and while talking to the owner in one of them, she lets them know about a space at the end of the block that recently opened up.

“You’ll love it,” she says with a Southern drawl that betrays she’s not a native New Yorker. “There’s so much natural light from the windows. And the ceilings!” She lets out a sigh. “If I hadn’t just signed a new lease here, I woulda tried snatching it up.”

The doors are locked when they make their way over, but from what they can see through the windows, it looks like a nice space. There’s a sign with the realtor’s number, so Mickey calls and sets up a meeting for the next day. He and Ian continue walking around the neighborhood after that.

“Mick, this is, like, the perfect neighborhood,” Ian says as they stop into a Mexican restaurant for dinner. “Baby, I can picture you here.”

Mickey throws a knock it off look at his boyfriend. Ian doesn’t normally call him baby outside of the bedroom. Normally, it’d have him melting into a puddle and taking Ian back to the hotel immediately. But there’s too many other emotions swirling inside him for it to really affect him fully.

“Let’s wait until we know if it’s even a possibility,” he tells Ian as a hostess leads them to a table.

“I can feel it,” Ian replies confidently. “All our dreams are gonna come true. I’m in the NFL and you’re going to be a hot shot artist.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Mickey pushes a menu his way. “Let’s not forget who we are and where we’re from. Not everything can go our way.”

Ian doesn’t press again until after a waitress has dropped off chips and salsas and taken their orders. As she walks away, he reaches out for Mickey’s hand. “Mick, this is a new start for us.”

“Can we just not do this right now?” Mickey begs, letting go of Ian’s hand to fiddle with his napkin.

Before Ian can respond, their waitress comes back with their drinks. “Hi,” she says nervously.

“Um, hi?” Ian smiles at her. “Thanks for the drinks.”

“You’re welcome, Ian.” She gasps at her slip. “Shit, I’m so not cool. Sorry, it’s just. You’re Ian Gallagher, right? I’m a huge Giants fan.” She points to a pin on her apron. “Is there any way I could get an autograph? Or not, whatever. Waiting on you is unbelievable enough.”

Mickey doesn’t hear Ian’s response, the reality of what’s happening sinking in. Shit.

“My first real autograph! There was that one during the combine, but it’s not like they really knew who I was,” Ian says excitedly as the waitress walks away. “Lip’s not gonna believe this.” He pulls out his phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“What?” Ian asks, sensing Mickey’s freak out and putting his phone back down. “Is it about what I said? I’ll stop. But I know things are going to work out for you.”

“No. Ian, fuck.” Mickey looks around before lowering his voice. “We were just holding hands.”

“So…?” Ian looks down. 

“And you were just recognized,” Mickey says, stressing the final word.

“Oh.” Ian’s shoulders slump. “ Oh .” He sighs. “I guess I’ve gotten used to being able to do what we wanted in L.A. And the city feels so big.”

 “What if we hadn’t let go before she got here? Or she heard you call me baby. Or fuck, I don’t know, saw you lookin’ at me like you want to undress me right here.”

“If anyone looks that way…” He trails off, unable to put any effort into the joke. 

“Fuck, Ian. If I out you—I can’t do that to you.”

“Hey, no. Stop it,” Ian says. “That wouldn’t have been your fault.” He sighs, pushing the chips and salsa towards Mickey. “Let’s just eat, okay?”

They pick at their dinner without talking, both their appetites gone, before leaving as soon as they can.

The next morning, they focus on Mickey’s appointment with the realtor for the gallery space instead of the close call they had in the restaurant. They stop for a quick breakfast at a café near the gallery space, and Ian makes a comment about how Mickey will probably be frequenting it often in the future, before they make the short walk to the space.

“No fucking way,” Ian exclaims as he reads a text message. “Justin’s no longer a free agent. He got signed!”

“Good for him,” Mickey says and he means it. Not only did he get to know and like Ian’s teammate during their tutoring sessions, but he also appreciates how much Justin helped and looked out for Ian. “What team?”

“We signed him!” Ian lets out a cheer. “We’re gonna be on the same team again. Assuming he doesn’t get released at the end of pre-season.”

“Wait, could that happen to you?” Mickey asks, his brows furrowed. He thought the draft was it. He didn’t realize Ian could lose his spot on the team so soon. 

Ian shrugs. “Technically, anyone could get released. But it pretty much never happens to rookie players from the first three rounds. So I’m safe. Justin, though… I hope he at least sticks around for the practice squad. Having him around is gonna be awesome.”

Fuck, what if anyone finds out about Mickey and Ian gets cut because of it? Mickey moves away from Ian a little as they walk, making sure he stays aware of how close they are and resisting the urge to intertwine Ian’s hand, swinging between them, with his own.

The meeting with the realtor goes well. The gallery is exactly what Mickey is looking for—there’s enough space in the back to work on his art and there should be decent foot traffic considering all of the hotels, restaurants, and other galleries nearby. Somehow it’s even in his price range—thanks to his savings and a few paintings a professor helped him sell over his last semester for a decent price. 

When he opts for just six months on the lease for now, Ian gives him a funny look, but Mickey can’t push away his worries that this future they’re building in New York won’t last long. 

--

“Wow, Milkovich,” Zoey murmurs her approval as she takes a look around his empty gallery space. “This is cool.”

Mickey shrugs, even though he agrees. It really is fucking cool. But it's also kind of hard to believe that it’s his, even if it’s already the weekend after he signed all the paperwork and got the keys.

“Are you planning to exclusively have your work up? Or are you going to put up other artists’ work, too?”

“Sick of the advertising life already?” Mickey asks, referencing the ad agency she’s working at. She seems to like it so far, but it sounds like the soul-crushing 9 to 5 job Mickey could never do.

“Absolutely not.” Zoey does another lap around the room as if she’s picturing what it’ll look like full. “But something tells me I’ll get bragging rights one day if I can say Mickey Milkovich once featured my work.”

“Ah, shut up.”

They take their time walking around, taking measurements and pictures, and talking about how Mickey can set the place up. It’s once they go to leave, Mickey fumbling with the keys to lock the door behind him that Zoey hits him with a dose of reality.

“So, no rush, ’cause my shit hole of an apartment can’t fit anything,” she says. “But do you know when you’re going to get a place? It’s almost time for me to pay for another month on the storage unit.”

“I’ll venmo you our half. We haven’t even really started looking at places yet,” Mickey says. 

It’s not entirely true. He has a folder of bookmarked links on his phone. But he and Ian haven’t really talked about it. He doesn’t know if Ian has any preferences or if he’s been looking on his own. A voice in the back of his mind—that he quickly tries to shut up—tells him it’s kind of weird that Ian, who has been so excited about their future, hasn’t even brought the topic up. 

“I guess I gotta figure out what’s halfway between here and the stadium so I know which borough we should be looking at.”

Zoey tilts her head in confusion. “Wait, do you not know?”

“Know what?”

“The Giants play at MetLife.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mickey grumbles. He likes Zoey. He really does, but sometimes she can really draw things out in a way that annoys him.

“It’s in Jersey, Mickey.”

Well, shit.

--

Ian’s waiting for him in the hotel room when he returns. “Hey, how was Zoey?”

“Good.” 

“And the gallery?” Ian asks from his spot on the bed.

“Good,” Mickey repeats.

Ian tilts his head in question. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good.” Mickey hates the idea of testing Ian, but he doesn’t know how else to broach the topic. “So, as great as this hotel room has been, I was thinkin’ it’s time for us to start looking for somewhere permanent.” 

He relaxes slightly when he sees Ian smile in response. Maybe Zoey doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. 

“I’ve been looking at brownstones in Brooklyn, but now that I have the gallery, we can figure out where would be a halfway point for us.” Mickey tenses back up as Ian’s smile slips.

Ian sits up in the bed and rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “That’s probably the Hudson River. We, uh, play in New Jersey actually. The training center’s there, too.”

“No shit,” Mickey grumbles. “When were you gonna say something? I had to just find out from Zoey. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What does it matter?” Ian asks with a shrug. “We’re living in New York.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ian.” Mickey sits down at the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from Ian. “Does it really make sense for us to be in the city if you’re going to be spending so much time in Jersey? Where do most of the other players live?”

Ian mumbles a response and Mickey pokes him in the leg. “Speak up, mumbles.”

“Northern Jersey. But c’mon, Mick. Where can you really see us? See you?” Ian asks his boyfriend. “In some suburban house, or here—” He waves his arms around. “—in the city?”

“I see myself—” Mickey spits out. “—with you talking about shit together. What else have you been lying about?”

“Nothing, Mick, I swear.” Ian scrambles to the foot of the bed to put a hand on Mickey’s arm. “I swear, Mick. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” He leans over to grab a notepad and pen from one of the night tables. He draws a long line down the middle. On the top left, he writes New York , and on the top left, New Jersey .

“New Jersey is better for your routine,” Mickey says immediately. “You don’t need to add a commute to your day.”

“Fine.” Ian writes that down under the New Jersey column, but then adds cooler and more fun as two bullets under New York.

“C’mon, Ian,” Mickey complains. “Those aren’t real reasons.”

“Yes, they are,” Ian protests. “And they’re important. You’re already giving up so much to follow me around for the rest of our lives. We should live somewhere that’s better for you.”

Mickey grabs the pad from Ian’s hands and throws it across the room. “I don’t have to worry about getting to work or leaving work at a certain time. I can make my own hours. A little commute into the city isn’t gonna do shit to me. But a commute out of the city every morning might screw shit up for you. So can we just agree that we gotta live in Jersey? We don’t have to find some stupid picket fence house. We can find something more us.”

“I don’t want you to give up your dream of living here,” Ian insists.

Mickey isn’t sure how he’s able to keep falling in love with Ian over and over. “My dream is living with you. Doesn’t matter where.”

“Fine, I’ll call a realtor,” Ian concedes. He pulls Mickey to lay down and pulls an arm around him.

“You really haven’t lied about anything else?” Mickey asks him, shyly. “We can’t keep stuff from each other if we’re gonna move past the dysfunctional shit we’re used to being around.”

Fuck, if any of his family could hear him now, he thinks with a shudder.

“I haven’t lied ,” Ian replies slowly. “But…”

“Well? Spit it out.”

“You know how I said the team didn’t pay for this hotel ’cause we’re here earlier than I need to be for training? Well, it’s a little more than that. The whole team stays at a hotel in New Jersey together during training camp. Significant others aren’t allowed.”

“So we can’t see each other at all?” Mickey’s heart sinks. Why didn’t Ian think that was important to tell him? Since when did Ian start hiding shit like this from him?

“No, we can,” Ian says. “Like when I get out for the day or on a day off. But I gotta be back to the hotel by curfew.”

“Curfew? The fuck?” Mickey shakes his head. “First time you’ve ever had one of those,” he teases.

“So you’re not mad you can’t come with me?”

Mickey sighs. “I wish you’d told me earlier, but it’s not like I could go with you even if I could, ya know?”

Ian looks at him confused. “No, I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

“Your teammates would probably have some questions about you bringing a guy along to your hotel room, Gallagher.” 

“Oh.” Ian sighs. “Yeah.”

Mickey moves closer to Ian, pushing aside the thought of how that’s another bullet for the New York side of Ian’s list. It’ll probably be easier to hide their relationship in the city, and that’s pretty important. But Ian’s health and performance is important, too, and he refuses to let Ian give that up so they can live in the city.

--

Ian gets added to a group chat with his new team, and someone suggests a realtor most of them use. Despite Ian’s direction on what he’s looking to buy, she still sends him listings for houses in his teammates’ neighborhoods. A few seem decent enough but he vetoes them when he learns how close he’ll be to certain players, telling Mickey that if he can’t share a hotel room with him in front of his team, he probably shouldn’t share a house with him near them either.

Mickey knows he’s right; he’s the one who pointed out about the hotel room. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting to hear Ian say it, too.

On a whim, Mickey asks the realtor who he worked with for his gallery if she can help out with Ian’s search. She’s licensed in New Jersey, too, so she jumps at the chance, probably knowing what kind of commission she’ll get.

While they’re waiting to hear back from her, they both get busy, starting to settle into their new life. Ian finds a manager and a financial advisor and probably a shit ton of other people Mickey never imagined would become part dinner topics for them. He distracts himself by hiding away in his gallery during the day. 

There’s a lot of work he needs to do before he can even think of opening it, but right now he’s taking his time to focus on his art, using all of the uncertainty he’s feeling as inspiration for some new pieces. 

He’s just putting away the latest when Ian finds him, having let himself in with the extra key Mickey gave him.

“Do I get to see what you’ve been working on?” Ian asks, leaning against the door frame.

“Not yet.” Mickey shakes his head. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

When Ian left him still in bed this morning it was with a kiss on the cheek and an excuse of having to head to a meeting to fill out paperwork for the team.

“It was fast. You all set? I wanna show you something.” Ian holds out his hand to Mickey. “I liked something Deena sent.”

“Why didn’t you ask me to just meet you in Jersey? You didn’t have to come back here and get me.”  

“It’s not…” Ian trails off, sighing. “Can you just trust me on this?”

Mickey answers with a nod. Even if he can feel the nerves radiating off his boyfriend right now, that doesn’t change the fact that he does trust Ian more than anyone else in his life. Hell, he doesn’t really think he’s ever actually trusted anyone other than Ian.

It’s only a short walk before Ian stops them abruptly. “We’re here,” he says softly.

Mickey looks around but can’t figure out what Ian’s trying to show him. “What?”

“Mick,” Ian pleads, like he doesn’t want to have to spell it out for him. He tilts his head to the side and Mickey’s eyes follow the path. “I bought it!”

They’re in front of a four-story brownstone. A brownstone just like the ones Mickey started bookmarking before he learned about New Jersey. 

He looks back at Ian, and for the first time ever, he’s pissed to see a smile on Ian’s face.

“What the fuck, Ian? We talked about this.” Mickey takes a step back from Ian without thinking. “I said we can’t keep stuff from each other. Fucking hell, Ian. I know this is the kind of rich people shit our families could never get into, but it’s still—”

Mickey breaks off and takes a deep breath before he does something embarrassing like start crying in the middle of a Brooklyn street.

“Wait, Mick. Just hold on.” Ian grabs ahold of his shirt sleeve. “You said you trusted me, remember?”

Mickey stays silent but motions for Ian to talk. He better have a real fucking good excuse for why he went behind Mickey’s back and bought them a place to live in Brooklyn after they already talked about this.

“Don’t worry, I said I’d live in Jersey like the rest of the team and I will,” Ian says quickly.

Shit . It hits Mickey. Ian didn’t buy them a place to live in Brooklyn. He bought Mickey a place to live in. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He probably realized there was nowhere that was safe to live with Mickey. He said it himself the day their waitress recognized Ian. Not everything can go our way.

“You could’ve just said you changed your mind about us living together,” Mickey says, turning away from Ian so he doesn’t have to look at him. Looking at the brownstone hurts almost as bad, though. He can picture them inside it. In fact, he spent an embarrassing amount of time earlier in the summer picturing it.

“Mick—”

“—I get it,” Mickey cuts him off. “Honestly. But you didn’t have to waste your money on this. I told you I don’t want you to be my sugar daddy. There’s an apartment space above the gallery. I can rent it and just live there.”

“What the fuck?!”

Startled by Ian’s anger, Mickey turns back to look at him.

“You don’t want to live with me?” Ian’s face crumples as he asks the question.

“No, you’re the one who…” Mickey waves between them and the building.

“I never said that!” Ian steps out of the way as someone walks by in his space. As if just realizing how many people they’re surrounded by, he pulls Mickey up the building steps. “Let’s just talk about this inside, okay?” He unlocks the door quickly and pushes Mickey in.

Mickey’s a little underwhelmed at the sight at first. There’s a flight of stairs going upstairs and downstairs on the left, and the rest of the floor is hidden by another door. Or at least, he’s underwhelmed until Ian talks again.

“Welcome to what I hope,” Ian says. “—is our second home.”

Second home? It takes a minute for Mickey’s brain to focus after the quick jump from thinking Ian was backtracking on their decision to assuming Ian didn’t even want to live with him at all to now realizing Ian went behind his back in a different way. A painful minute if the look on Ian’s face is anything to go by.

“Second home?” Mickey repeats. “I know you’re loaded now, but do we really need a second home less than an hour away? And before we even get the first home?” he asks, at a loss at what else to say.

“First,” Ian starts off, holding on to Mickey’s hands and letting out a relieved sigh when Mickey doesn’t shake him off. “I know this was a potentially shitty thing to do without your input, but I really wanted to surprise you. If you love the idea but not this building, we can pick one out together. And if you don’t love the idea, then I can rent it out for some easy passive income.”

“Passive income?” Mickey rolls his eyes, softening to the idea. “You’re spending too much time with that finance bro.”

“Marcus did say real estate is great for my investment portfolio,” Ian jokes about his financial advisor before letting go of one of Mickey’s hands to open the second door. “So here’s what I’m thinking,” he says once Mickey follows him through. “The first two floors can be ours. The stairs out there go up to the third and fourth floors and the basement. Obviously we have our own stairs for our two floors,” he rambles, pointing towards another set of stairs.

“Gallagher, calm down.” Mickey nudges him with his shoulder. “I’m calm now. See? So tell me why you even want this place before you start trying to sell me on it.”

“I meant it when I said I didn’t want you to give up your dream of living in the city,” Ian replies softly. “But it’s my dream, too. I started picturing it, and I really fucking like it. And I know it won’t be practical for us to live here full time. But there’s my off-season and days off. And you can stay here if you want when I’m at away games or if you’re ever at the gallery too late, you can crash here.”

“Can’t imagine not wanting to end the night in your arms,” Mickey says. He’d be embarrassed by the sappy shit coming out of his mouth if it wasn’t for the wide smile Ian rewards him with.

“Still, I’d feel better knowing you have the option.” Ian wraps an arm around Mickey’s shoulders.

Mickey takes a look around before tilting his head up to look at Ian with an excited grin. He pulls him in for a kiss, trying to convey everything he’s feeling into it but knowing that’s too much to ask of one kiss. “Okay, show me our second home.”

Ian gives Mickey a tour, taking him through the empty rooms and explaining what he’s most excited about for each. In the living room he points out the largest empty wall and says he wants the largest television they can find so Mickey can watch his away games on it.

“I think you’re forgetting I don’t actually love football as much as you do,” Mickey deadpans.

“Yeah, but you love me in my uniform.” Ian wiggles his eyebrows at Mickey.

Okay, that Mickey can get behind.

The kitchen is larger than either of them knows what to do with given that their cooking skills stop at cereal and pizza rolls. And the dining room seems unnecessary when they’ll probably have most of their meals in the living room, sitting side-by-side on the couch, close enough that it’ll be hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

The kitchen has a doorway that leads outside to a small private garden. Mickey’s glad to see the fence around it is high enough to guarantee their privacy, and if the look Ian gives him is any indication, they’re on the same page of how to put that privacy to good use.

Ian points out the half bathroom on the main floor without commentary before hurrying Mickey upstairs. “Another bathroom,” he says, pointing to a closed door. “And these two—” He opens two more doors but doesn’t step into the rooms. “They’re probably supposed to be a guest bedroom and an office, but I figure we can rent out one of the other floors but leave one as a guest unit for when our family visits. And we don’t need an office, so we can do whatever the fuck we want with these.”

Mickey watches Ian carefully. Between the draft and graduation, he’s had the chance to see Ian excited a lot lately. But this seems to be a new level of happiness. He understands it because he feels it, too. The uncertainty that has been fueling his art is gone, replaced with a sense of comfort. This may only be their second home, as Ian’s calling it, but it’s theirs. And it’s a sign that they’re on the same page about their lives.

“And best of all, our bedroom,” Ian says, leading Mickey into the last room. Mickey’s first thought is that it’s more space than either of them have ever had for themselves before. Probably a silly thought considering the whole building is theirs now and they won’t have to share their space with anyone. But this space will be theirs alone. 

“Plenty of room for your extensive wardrobe,” Ian jokes as he’s standing in the walk-in closet. Mickey holds back his own joke; it’s too easy for the picking.

In the ensuite, Mickey’s happy to see not only a shower large enough for the two of them, but also a tub that rivals the one at the hotel. 

They eventually make their way back downstairs, talking about all of the things they’ll need to buy to fill up all of the empty space, which leads to them talking about all of the things they’ll need to buy to fill up their yet-to-be-found first home. It’s no surprise that the conversation turns to which rooms they’ll want to christen first.

As they stand in their living room, they face each other, big grins on their faces. Ian opens his mouth to say something, but Mickey beats him to it first. 

“So, now what?”