I would like to take a moment to send a huge thank you to everyone who participated of the Gallavich Week 2016. We weren’t many, but the works done were fantastic. I’m very proud of what we accomplished and I look forward to seeing you all again next year, as I have no plans of ending GW in the foreseeable future. GW is my baby and I can’t thank you enough for taking an interest and putting such hard work in producing all this great new content.
I would also like to thank the people who liked/reblogged the Tumblr posts, liked/RTed the tweets and left kudos/comments on AO3 --> each of this gestures impacts on the artist/writer immensely and encourages us to keep on producing fanwork.
If you missed anything or want to see it again, here are the links for
Day 1 - Sexy Times
Day 2 - Angst
Day 3 - Alternate S5 Ending
Day 4 - Busting Out
Day 5 - Different Encounters
Day 6 - Gallavich as Parents
Day 7 - Reunions
ALL WORKS
Our AO3 community is here.
And now, I want to thank one by one the people who participated and dedicated time and energy to produce such incredible content for us:
@aridayagrande
@jewelisshippingtrash
@koganphrancis
@livefortoday-dreamforever
@loftec
@mysticallygallavich
@romanticalgirl
@thestyleofsecrecy
@thevioletjones
@wellimhavinga3outof10day
@zankivich
mickeymouseno1 and ObsidianQuill on AO3 (who don’t have Tumblr accounts) and the anonymous writer as well.
I don’t normally promote my personal blog here, but it would be super awkward for me to thank myself and, since I also participated, here it is.
Again, thank you and I’ll see you next year (or in the end of this year in the Gift Exchange ;) ).
Mickey has been home from giving birth to Mikayla for five days, and his daughter has only been on this planet for six, and Mickey’s not entirely sure what to do with her. Somehow, Ian keeps coming and going, each times schlepping in more baby stuff that Jason gave him or he picked up at the store. In a matter of days, his and Ian’s apartment has been transformed into what looks like a thrift store for newborns.
It makes Mickey’s head spin. He’s pissed the fuck off that he can’t go and do half the shit himself but his body feels sore all over. Mikayla might be tiny, but she sure as hell did a number on his body coming into the world. Katie told him to stay active, but not push himself. So, he’s using the fact that someone needs to stay home and watch the baby as a good excuse to help him come to terms that he’s leaving everything to Ian.
Ian has been amazing since they brought Mikayla home. Hell, who is he kidding, he has been amazing since she was conceived. They’ve been such equals that the steady force between them tethered them to a shared feeling of comradery. That’s not to say they have any idea what they’re doing. They’re out of their comfort zones and having to learn on the fly.
It seems that lately Mickey gets Mikayla for all the fun parts of learning. He gets to hold onto her, curl around her when she is sprawled out on the bed beside him, and feed her. Ian is the one running himself ragged by getting up in the middle of the night every time Mikayla does, feeding her every two hours, changing every diaper, and not complaining even once. Ian’s completely in awe over Mikayla’s presence, head over heels in love and wearing a sappy expression on his face that Mickey would make fun of if he hadn’t found it so endearing.
Mickey loves Mikayla too, is absolutely crazy about her, especially when she looks the way she does and makes those adorable puppy noises that melt his heart. She’s always searching him or Ian out, whimpering and wrinkling up her face until she’s nuzzling against either of their chests. She’s family. She’s his and Ian’s. She’s completely perfect and Mickey figures he’s going to ensure that she stays that way. At day six, he figures that letting Ian do everything has gone on long enough. He is sore – he just had a baby, of course he is sore – but he isn’t dead.
That was the plan anyway. But once he has Mikayla waiting for her bath, undressed and blinking at him, he isn’t quite sure what to do with her. Of course he knows what to do with her…he just can’t seem to focus enough to do anything.
Mikayla doesn’t seem to care. She is content to have her daddy’s attention and snuggle in the plush baby towels laid out for her. They’re new and fluffy with pink elephants all over them, something completely cliché that Ian picked up at Target. She yawns a tiny baby yawn and Mickey’s heart gets lodged in his throat. He can’t believe that she was inside of him.
When he looks at her, he can’t believe that he gave birth to such a perfect human being. Seriously, him and Ian. It’s dizzying. He never manages to express the feeling right when he brings it up to Ian, because the emotions are too powerful to be contained by words. He thinks Ian understands; they’re both floating in this weird bubble, one he’s terrified is going to pop before they’re ready. He’s not delusional to think things will feel this easy all the time. Right now, however, Mikayla is simple. She needs to stay warm, clean, and fed. He and Ian can handle that.
Mikayla cries out and makes sure her father focuses his attention back on her. “Sorry, princess,” he says in hushed tones. “You’re going to be just like your dad, glowering for attention,” he snorts. This ‘dad’ word is going to start becoming awfully confusing, because he means Ian just then, but how does Mikayla know? He feels stupid for even having that thought. Mikayla was just born, she has barely managed keeping her eyes open, she definitely hasn’t mastered the English language. He’ll let Ian be ‘daddy’, it fits him more. They can discuss him being referred to as ‘tato’. Mickey thinks it suits him, his heart thrums at the idea of filling that roll. To word is a little harsher, but it’s like Mickey, it’s meant to be taken seriously even though the underbelly is just as soft as the word ‘daddy’. “Alright, Kayla…help me out here. I have no idea what I’m doing,” he rambles on as he tries to fit the tiny bath kit Jason had given them in their meager kitchen sink. He gets the warm water going and has baby wash on hand, but has no idea what he’s waiting for.
When he picks Mikayla up and lets her little body mold to the crook of his arm, he wants to keep her there because she looks so darn cute. Realizing a diaper-less baby is probably not a good idea for an extended period of time, he gently lays her in her baby bath. She doesn’t seem to mind the water at all. In fact, she looks pretty content. Mickey’s never had to do anything like this before, but he’s watched Ian. It doesn’t look that hard. He’s overly gentle and careful while he washes her face and sparse amounts of hair. Everything is slow, like he’s afraid he’ll break her. She’s the most delicate thing he’s ever trusted his hands with and that sends a jolt of fear down his spine. He’s fucked up delicate things before, made missteps when Ian was low. Needing to remind himself that he’s learned from those experiences, Mickey take several moments to wash over Mikayla’s belly, making sure she’s completely find. Letting her know she can trust him.
He gets more comfortable with the situation, actually laughing when Mikayla goes cross eyed as a drop of water lands on her nose. It’s funny how easily her eyes do that, always bouncing back to normal and looking pouty at Mickey. The only people he’s ever washed clean are himself and Ian, both resilient men, with man parts and nothing he hasn’t seen before. Mikayla is everything a baby girl should be, uncharted girl part territory included. What the hell are he and Ian going to do with a daughter? Sure, she is rolly polly, with cute little baby folds of chubbiness and soft baby skin, but she is other things too. Other things that worry Mickey a little.
He must have been taking too long for Mikayla’s liking because she lets out a squealing cry. He was also too drawn into his thoughts to notice that Ian has entered the apartment, silently leaning against the wall and cocking his head in interest as to what’s going on in the kitchen sink.
After a beat, Ian comes up behind him and kisses the back of his neck, startling him. “Hey, Mick,” he whispers, watching Mickey’s hands stay static where he’s holding the small washcloth over their daughter’s chest. Demeanor changing, Ian picks up on the fact that something is off. “What’s up?”
“It’s just…she’s just…” Mickey furrows his brow, voice deeper than he intends to. “She’s a girl and shit.”
Going on autopilot to lighten the mood, Ian gasps. “Fuck, she is? I thought maybe we were missing a part,” Ian teases.
“Shut the fuck up.” Mickey hits Ian across the face with the wet rag. Now that he’s said his concern out loud, it doesn’t seem so scary. “You know, she’s not too hard to figure out. I just don’t know what we’re going to do with all her parts and stuff. It feels kinda weird. What do we do with a girl?”
Ian presses his chest against Mickey’s back, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “We wash her, for starters. They’re just parts of her, Mick. And she’s six days old. Too early to think about anything else. She’s gonna be fine. Plenty of people are raised by the opposite gender. Hell, I was raised by Fiona, and you weren’t really raised by anyone. I think we’ve got a good chance of not fucking this up.”
“Why do you gotta go and make it sound so easy,” Mickey scoffs but his heart lightens at the words. “It’s just ‘cause you’ve done this before. You know…washed a kid.” Ian has siblings who are enough years younger than him to require sink baths and he’s going to bet that Ian and Lip were on the bathing duty rotation.
“You’re doing pretty good,” Ian says, nudging Mickey slightly so both of their hips are square to the sink. He takes Mickey’s wrist and forces the older man to finish Mikayla’s bath all by himself, teaching him that he can, in fact, take care of their daughter. In the end, it only takes another minute, and he has Mikayla wrapped in a towel and snuggled into his arms so fast that Mickey’s not sure what just happened.
“See,” Ian says, letting the one word hang between them as he gives Mickey a knowing look.
Mickey has to admit, it does make him stand a little straighter, feeling a sense of pride over doing something so stupid as washing his kid. But both he and Ian are aware of the fact it’s more than that. He gets it a bit more now. He once asked Ian how he just seems to know how to take care of Mikayla and his response had been, “I just know because she’s mine.” Mickey hadn’t understood what that meant at the time, but he thinks he does now. She’s just a baby. She’s perfect and they can figure the rest out as they go along. Mickey thinks he can do that. He loves Mikayla enough – more than enough – he just needs to trust himself enough and remember that he is somehow turning out to be a good parent.
Mikayla may be a girl, but Mickey and Ian have females in their lives to help them if need be.
Plus, Mickey has a stubborn streak, a refusal to surrender, the internet, and years to sort things out.
Alas, it’s the last day of Gallavich Week. But it’s okay, there’s still the works of today, some late works that might be coming, and more events to come!
The theme today is Reunions. Have fun!
Reminding you all that any kind of work (fic, art, video, etc.) is accepted, as long as it hasn’t been published before.
Please tag your post with gw2016 within the first FIVE tags so that I can see it and reblog it. If you’re a bit late, please inform within the post or the tags what day your work was meant for.
Click here for the AO3 community.
For more info READ HERE.
To check the works done for Day 1 (Sexy Times), click here.
To check the works done for Day 2 (Angst), click here.
To check the works done for Day 3 (Alternate S5 Ending), click here.
To check the works done for Day 4 (Busting Out), click here.
To check the works done for Day 5 (Different Encounters), click here.
To check the works done for Day 6 (Gallavich as Parents), click here.
For all the works produced so far, click here.
Remember to like/reblog/reply the works. The artists and author put a lot of effort in them.
(the title is a little joke inspired by The Fairy Tail, but in my story, that place doesn’t exist for our heroes)
Ian was at the corner, jogging in place, waiting for the cross signal to come on.
He checked his watch, he still had twenty minutes to get back to his apartment to give him enough time to shower and shave before class; that worked out perfectly, he could give himself a proper cool down after running hard for five miles.
He felt something tugging at his sweatpants down near his knee. He looked down into the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen in his life, and then noticed the little boy’s mouth was moving, so he plucked out an earbud to hear.
“Mister, have you seen Dick?”
Ian blinked in surprise. He couldn’t have heard that right. He plucked out the other earbud and said, “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Have you seen Dick? My dog! Show him, Daddy!”
Ian looked up to see the man standing on the other side of the boy. Whoa, there were those beautiful eyes again, but now instead of being three feet below him, this set was only about three inches down.
The man huffed and held his phone to Ian so he could see the screen. There was a picture of a fluffy natural hair buff colored miniature poodle.
Ian looked back down at the little boy. “Sorry, buddy, haven’t seen him.” The boy’s face crumpled, and Ian felt terrible, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything mean to the kid.
“I’ll keep an eye out for him, though,” Ian promised.
That perked the boy up, a little. “You will? Thanks, every little bit helps, right Dad?”
“That’s what we always say,” the man said, looking down at his son with obvious pride and affection.
“Dick’s never run away before,” the boy told Ian, wanting to be sure Ian understood this was not some wild renegade dog, but a dog worth looking for.
“So, if I see it, I should just call…’Dick?’” Ian was biting the inside of his cheek, he knew this wasn’t a laughing matter.
“The full name’s Dickhead, but, yeah, call Dick or Dickhead,” the boy said.
“Ay, what did we tell you about saying that word?” the dad said sternly.
“Not to? But, this is an emergency!” the boy wailed. “Dick’s been gone all morning!”
The dad rolled his eyes. “That’s the name the dog came with from the shelter-we tried to change it, but nothing stuck,” he explained to Ian. “Damn dog only responds to Dick.”
“My dad’s great at naming things-if it had been our dog first, he would’ve come up with a better name,” the boy said proudly.
The man actually squirmed a bit at the mild praise-Ian thought it was adorable.
“Well, anyways,” the man said to Ian, “Dick’s a little skittish around strangers, so use a soft voice if you do happen to see…”
“And click your tongue, Dick usually comes when Daddy uses his tongue,” the boy added helpfully. Ian thought at this point that there had to be a hidden camera somewhere.
“Okay, Yevgeny, I think the man gets it,” Mickey said, obviously trying not to laugh himself.
Ian raised an eyebrow. “Yevgeny?” This from a guy “great” at names?
“His mother named him,” the man mumbled.
“Dick’s never run off before, but today there was this squirrel,” Yevgeny said, getting sad again remembering.
“Yeah, we’ve had the dog a year and it always sticks to Yevgeny’s side like glue, especially outdoors,” the man added. “Snapped the leash and ran off in a flash.”
“Oh! And Dick’s wearing a red collar with a bone shaped nametag,” Yevgeny told Ian. Ian was impressed with the little mite’s head for detail.
The light had changed a few times during this exchange, and Ian looked at his watch again. He really wished he could help this polite boy and his cute-albeit straight-dad look for the dog, but now he only had fifteen minutes to get home to get ready for class, and he had an exam today, no way could he skip.
“I’ll keep looking,” Ian promised again, “but right now I really have to get going.”
“Thank you,” the boy said, reaching for his dad’s hand and ready to go back to canvassing the park some more. The man nodded and Ian started jogging in place again, and reached for his earbuds.
“Oh, wait! How do I get in touch with you if I find your, uh, Dick?” Ian asked.
The man handed Ian his phone. “You could put your number in there, and I could text you my info, I guess,” he said almost shyly.
Just as Ian was about to take the phone, the screen went black.
“Aw, shit, the battery died,” the man said, noticing. “I’ve had it on since morning, showing Dick’s picture around.” It was now early afternoon.
Ian dug his own phone out of the zip up pocket on his track jacket, which the other man personally thought was a little too light for this gray, chilly, late fall Chicago day, but to each his own. It fit the dude snuggly, so it had that going for it, regardless. Ian handed his phone over to the man.
“Uh, if you want, you could put your number in there, and if I find the dog I’ll let you know,” Ian said.
The man nodded and took the phone, their fingertips brushing during the exchange since the man was wearing gloves with the fingers cut off from the second knuckle up, and Ian’s hands were bare. When the man handed the phone back, their fingers brushed again, and Ian felt the same tingle of electricity he had felt the first time.
“Get a grip, Gallagher,” he thought to himself, thinking it must’ve been too long since he got laid if he was letting a straight dude get to him like this, no matter how pretty his eyes were. Despite trying to be good, Ian couldn’t resist peeking at the contact info, hoping to learn the name of this beautiful stranger. He barked out a little laugh when he saw the contact name: Dick’s Dad. Sigh. Just as well.
Around ten-thirty that night, Mickey’s recharged phone buzzed. It was an unknown number, but the text said: IS THIS DICK? and when Mickey opened the photo attachment, a fuzzy picture of soaking wet dog halfway crawling out of a towel with Ian’s arm wrapped around it and his face in the background showing the struggle of how hard it is to take a selfie with one arm out while trying to hold a squirming fifteen pound dog in place with the other popped up.
Mickey wasted no time calling the number that had come up with the text back and snapped, “Of course it’s Dick; how many loose poodles do you think are roaming around the city today?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Ian said, affronted. “First off, the collar and name tag are gone-but more importantly, this dog is a spayed FEMALE so pardon me for wondering if she might not, indeed, be a dog named Dick.”
“Oh, shit, sorry. I never even thought to mention that…” Mickey truly felt bad for snapping at the helpful stranger, it’s just that it had been such a long day full of worry, and when they hadn’t found the dog by dark, he was really afraid that Yev was going to experience the first loss of his young life, and Mickey didn’t know how-or if-they could prepare him for that.
“Plus she looked like a fucking wet rat when I found her,” Ian was still a little hurt that the man had bitten his head off. Deep down, he was sort of hoping for a hero’s welcome from the handsome man, even though he knew…Wait, said handsome man was talking again; time to tune back in.
“I can’t thank you enough. Is she all right? It doesn’t…” he almost choked up for a second, all the horrible things he had been imagining all day-especially when the rain started pouring down in the late afternoon-hitting him all at once now in a wave, “it doesn’t look like she got hit by a car, or anything?”
Ian could clearly hear the worry in the other man’s now quiet and low voice. His defensiveness slipped away and he answered gently, “No, no, nothing like that. She’s fine. She’s actually sleeping right by my side on my couch. She was just tired and cold when I found her coming home past the park after my shift at work. I, uh, had half a meatball sub on me from the diner where I work, and I gave her a couple of meatballs for her supper-I hope that was okay…”
Mickey laughed. “She’ll love you for life-meatballs are her favorite.”
Ian laughed too, stroking the dog’s soft hair absentmindedly.
“Daddy? Who are you talking to?” Ian could hear Yevgeny’s voice clearly through the phone. Sounded like the kid was sobbing as he spoke.
“It’s that nice man from near the park,” Ian heard the man telling his son. “You know, the tall one with red hair? He found the dog!”
“REALLY?” Ian could hear Yevgeny’s happy squeal. “Can we go get her, Daddy, can we go get her right now?”
“It’s awfully late, Yev, and the man just got home from a long day at work…”
Ian spoke up. “It’s getting really cold out too-the temperature’s been dropping like a stone since the rain stopped-don’t bring your son out, I can bring the dog to you…uh, if that’s okay.” Ian realized a little belatedly he was inviting himself over to the man’s house.
“Aw, no, you don’t have to do that,” Mickey began.
“What, what doesn’t he have to do?” Yevgeny’s agitated voice was coming through louder than the man’s, almost.
“Yev, hush. Dick’s fine, the man gave her meatballs, she’s sleeping…”
Just then, of course, upon hearing her master say her name, Dick barked loudly, loud enough for Yevgeny to hear when Mickey pulled the phone away from his ear, surprised by the noise.
“DICK! Let me talk to her, Daddy, please?”
Ian was laughing on his end. “I’ll hold the phone up to her ear,” he told the man.
“Okay, Yevgeny, but just say Hi,” Mickey told his son, and held the phone to his son’s face.
“Dick? Hi, Dick! It’s me, Yev!”
Dick was whimpering and squirming, looking around to see where her boy’s voice could be coming from.
Ian put the phone back to his ear. “Yev?”
“Ah, no, it’s his dad-Mickey.”
Ian’s face broke into a huge grin. What an adorably cute name for such a tough guy. “Oh, hi, Mickey. I’m Ian, by the way-um, honest, I don’t mind bringing her over, and I get the feeling your little guy isn’t going to sleep till he sees her…”
“It’s such an imposition, though,” Mickey said, but looking at his keyed up son, he knew it was true about the sleeping.
“Not if I’m volunteering,” Ian insisted. “It’s not an imposition.”
Mickey sighed and gave in. “I’ll text you the address-you got GPS in your phone? Or would you like some directions too?”
“Naw, I’ve got GPS. If I get lost, I’ll call ya,” Ian said. “See you in a while.”
A little while later, the dog and her rescuer were at Mickey’s door. Ian could hear Mickey telling Yev to stay back while he made sure who was there, and Yev arguing who else would be ringing their bell in the middle of the night? It had to be Dick. Ian grinned at how much like Yev sounded like his father at that moment. “It’s me-and Dick,” Ian called out. The locks clicked and the door flew open, and Yev was running into Ian’s knees screaming out his dog’s name.
“Whoa, wait, wait, get back inside,” Mickey scolded, grabbing Yev by the collar of his pajamas.
Ian smiled gratefully at Mickey, his arms full of poodle. She was barking and flailing and trying to get down, but Ian wanted to be sure to only put her down inside. He figured she wouldn’t run again, that she only wanted Yev, but better safe than sorry.
Mickey stepped back, pulling Yev with him, so Ian could bring the dog in. Once the door was shut, Ian gently put her on the floor, and Yevgeny fell all over her, sobbing and hugging.
Mickey squatted down, petting both his son’s and the dog’s heads. He looked up at Ian. “Thank you so much.”
Ian smiled. “Happy I could help.”
Mickey stood up and said, “You carried her the whole way?”
Ian grinned and shrugged. “Didn’t have anything to use as a leash. I thought about tying one of my scarves around her neck, but I figured that might just choke her-or she might slip out of it, so, yeah, I carried her.”
“Did you have to come very far?” Mickey said. He had honestly lost track of time after Ian called-it felt like it was taking him forever to get there because of Yev asking every other minute when he would get there.
Ian just shook his head. No.
“Did you find the place all right?” Mickey asked, just to have something to say. Now that he was seeing Ian again, he wanted it to last. He really wished Ian would take off the navy blue beanie he was wearing. Mickey could only see a little bit of his red hair peeking out around it, and he wanted to see all of it again. He was glad to note Ian was wearing a much warmer winter coat now.
Ian grinned. “Found the place just fine-I grew up about three blocks away.”
“No way!” Mickey said, breaking into a smile too.
Ian stuck out his hand. “Ian Gallagher,” he said, shaking Mickey’s hand. “I think you used to be in my brother Lip’s grade…”
“Until I dropped out the day I turned sixteen, yeah,” Mickey laughed. “Although by then I was still a freshman and your brother was all in advanced placement classes, as I recall.” Mickey reluctantly let Ian’s hand go, he felt like it needed to be warmed up after carrying the dog home through the cold night.
“I was in a few classes with your sister,” Ian told him. “How’s she doing these days?”
“Great,” Mickey said. “She’s down in Indiana now, going to college-Perdue, she’s a senior.”
“Wow,” Ian said, impressed. He himself was enrolled part time in a local junior college, since it was all he could afford for the time being, but good for Mandy.
They were just staring at each other, now that they had pretty much caught up on what they knew of each other from back in the day. But it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable.
“Hello, Dick,” Ian heard a woman say. He looked over to where the voice had come from and saw a woman entering the room.
“Come, Yevgeny. Dick is home safe and sound and it’s so far past your bedtime,” she said.
Ah, Ian thought, the mom.
“Can Dick sleep with me?” Yevgeny asked, his blue eyes imploring one parent, then the other.
“She was soaking wet when Ian found her, buddy. I’m sure she stinks to high heaven,” Mickey said, sad he couldn’t indulge his boy. He knew Dick slept in Yev’s bed every night, despite Svetlana’s “rule” against it that Mickey also knew for a fact she turned a blind eye to the breaking of every night. But tonight they’d really have to say no, the dog would stink up not just the bedding and the boy, but the mattress itself.
“Uh, actually, I gave her a bit of a bath,” Ian spoke up shyly.
All eyes turned to him. “Um, yeah, she was cold and shaking when I found her, so I figured a warm bath might help. I don’t have any dog shampoo, but I Googled what you could give a dog a bath with instead, and it said it’d be okay to mix a tiny amount of oatmeal with the water, so I did that…” Ian pulled off the beanie, his head was beginning to sweat.
Yev buried his nose in the dog’s hair. “She doesn’t smell, Mom! It worked!”
Svetlana kept an eye on Ian as she knelt down and gave the dog a sniff. “Hmm, all right. Just this once, Yevgeny, IF you promise to be asleep in five minutes.”
“I promise, Mom! Come on, Dick!” Yev scrambled to his feet and ran out of the room as fast as his footie pajamas would let him go, the dog right by his side the entire way, Svetlana following at a more dignified pace.
“Ay,” Mickey shouted, “You didn’t say thank…” He looked at Ian apologetically. “His mother’s got the fear of god in him, he’ll at least pretend to be asleep in five minutes-do you mind coming in to his room to get a proper thank you?”
Ian grinned widely. “Not at all-but it’s really not necessary…”
“Yeah it is,” Mickey insisted. “Here, let me take your coat.”
Ian peeled it off, he was wearing a green plaid shirt unbuttoned over a henley that hugged his pecs and abs nicely, Mickey couldn’t help but notice.
Mickey threw the coat on the couch, and Ian tossed his beanie on top of it. Mickey led the way to his son’s room. Svetlana had already left after tucking him in. Yev was under the covers, his arms around the dog. She had her head on the pillow and looked content. Ian noticed a framed eight by ten photo of Dick’s smiling face right next to Yevgeny’s bed on the night stand. He was so happy he found the little dog on his way home, she was obviously the love of the little boy’s life so far.
“Hey, tough guy, you forgot to thank Ian for not only finding Dick, but for carrying the fleabag home to ya,” Mickey said in a quiet bedtime voice.
Yev’s eyes flew open. “She doesn’t have fleas,” he said, knowing it was just one of his dad’s jokes, but not wanting Ian to think that was true. “Thank you, Mr. Ian,” Yev added politely.
“My pleasure, Yevgeny,” Ian laughed.
“All the teachers at his kindergarten are ‘Miss and Mister’ and then a first name,” Mickey explained.
“I don’t hear sleeping in there!” Svetlana’s disembodied voice echoed down the hall.
“Oh, shit,” Yev muttered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut. Mickey chose to ignore that and Ian once again found himself trying not to laugh at this adorable kid.
Mickey leaned down and kissed his son and then the dog on their heads. “Goodnight,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, Daddy, I love you.” Ian’s heart melted. Yevgeny cracked an eye open, keeping the other one shut tight in a cute wink. “Come say goodnight, Mr. Ian,” he insisted. Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey. Mickey smiled and nodded. “Go ahead, if you want to.”
Ian walked to the other side of the bed opposite to where Mickey was standing and ran his hand over the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Dick, goodnight, Yevgeny.” Yevgeny extracted his arms from around the dog and put them up to Ian. Ian bent down and let Yevgeny grab either side of his face, and looked up at Mickey once again. Mickey nodded and Ian kissed the top of Yevgeny’s head. “Sweet dreams, Yev,” he added.
Yevgeny beamed at Ian and slid his sturdy little arms around Ian’s neck and gave him a bit of a hug. “You have sweet dreams too.”
Mickey jerked his head towards the door, and Ian walked around the bed and followed him out, sort of getting in Mickey’s way in the hall when Mickey went to flip off the light switch and pull the door to his son’s room almost all the way shut. They were chest to chest in the narrow passageway and Ian couldn’t help but notice Mickey smelled incredibly nice.
For his part, Mickey was noticing the heat emanating off of Ian’s body, he was like a human furnace, no wonder he could be out running in near freezing temperatures in just a light jacket.
They both realized they were staring at each other at the same instant, and started to part ways, Mickey heading further down the hall and Ian taking a step back towards the living room.
“I guess I oughta...”Ian was starting to say, just as Mickey was speaking as well.
“You want a beer?” Mickey said, getting louder on the last word to drown out Ian’s going away noises.
Ian bit on his lower lip. “I’m not much of a drinker these days. I think a beer this late would just slosh around in my stomach and keep me awake,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed.
“How about coffee? Wait, no, that’d keep you awake worse,” Mickey said, his frustration growing. He really didn’t want this guy to leave already. “We might have some decaf somewhere…” He knew they didn’t. No one in the house would bother with decaf.
“Oh, I know! A cup of cocoa! Would you like a cup of cocoa?” He looked up into Ian’s eyes, willing him to say yes. “I’ve got marshmallows, come on,” he said coaxingly, making a beckoning motion with his head and walking towards the kitchen.
Ian stood planted for a few seconds. As much as he liked this guy, he was married, he played for the wrong team, and he had a beautiful family. Ian was no home-wrecker even if the unimaginable happened and one of Terry Milkovich’s kids wanted to take a walk on the wild side.
But it was cold outside, and he had a bit of a hike back, and hot, sweet cocoa sounded so good that he let himself be persuaded.
“Can I do anything to help?” Ian asked as he stepped into the kitchen.
Mickey just waved him into a chair at the table. “You’ve helped us enough today. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Ian’s mind flashed to that last sentence being used in an entirely different context, and he almost had to slap himself to keep from taking the thought even further.
Svetlana walked into the kitchen, took in what was going on, and said to Ian, “He’s making you cocoa? Sharing his marshmallows?” Ian nodded, not sure what that was supposed to mean, if anything. Maybe wherever she and her accent were from they just stated all the facts? “Thank you for finding my son’s pet. We will never forget this kindness.”
“You’re welcome,” Ian said, and then didn’t know what else to say. But that was okay, Svetlana didn’t seem to expect anything more.
She walked over to the counter and snagged a mini-marshmallow out of the bag. Mickey slapped at her hand. “Ay!”
Svetlana just popped the little cube into her mouth and gave Mickey a smug smile. “Goodnight, boys, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said as she left the kitchen.
Mickey just rolled his eyes.
While the water heated up in the kettle, Mickey busied himself getting out mugs and spoons and Ian sat quietly, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence. The instant the teakettle began to whistle, Mickey snatched it up off the burner.
“Pretty sure the kid’s asleep already, he had an exhausting day, but if he knew cocoa was being made he’d risk sneaking out of bed again,” Mickey said, pouring the hot water.
Mickey stirred in the cocoa mix and filled the top of the mug with floating marshmallows and set the drink down in front of Ian. He then fixed his own mug and brought it and the bag of marshmallows over to the table and sat down across from Ian.
Ian stirred his cocoa around, but could tell it was still a little too hot to drink yet, so he scooped up some marshmallows onto the spoon and blew on them till they were cool enough to put into his mouth and let them finish melting on his tongue. Mickey smiled and did the same.
“So, Yevgeny’s in kindergarten, huh?” Ian said, breaking the companionable quiet.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s small for his age…” Mickey started.
Ian looked surprised. He hadn’t been thinking that at all. He felt like Liam and even Carl and Debbie had always been around knee-height when they were younger until they sprouted up to be more at chest-level. “Oh, no, I just thought he’s very bright and sharp for a kid that age,” Ian said. Mickey’s posture relaxed again.
“You think so?” he said, and if he sounded a little pleased, who could blame him?
Ian nodded, and risked a sip of his hot drink. It was just right. “That’s some good cocoa,” he said, grinning.
Mickey laughed. “You’ve got a cocoa moustache,” he said, suddenly staring a little too long at Ian’s top lip. When Ian licked it off, Mickey’s tongue peeked out of his own mouth and licked his own lip as well. Ian tilted his head, but if he was going to say anything it didn’t happen. A different woman came in through the back door, slamming it and locking it behind her.
“Colder than a witch’s tit out there,” she murmured in an accent that sounded similar to Mickey’s wife , to Ian’s ears. She was taking off her coat when she took a closer look at the pair sitting at the table.
“She is in our bed?” the newcomer asked. Mickey nodded.
“She texted me the dog was found,” the woman said.
“She told me,” Mickey replied. “Uh, Nika, this is Ian, the man who found the dog. Ian-Nika.”
Ian said hello and Nika nodded. She said to Mickey, “May I take some?” indicating the marshmallows and Mickey nodded. She picked three of them up one by one and dropped them into her cleavage, plunk, plunk, plunk. “You know what a sweet tooth Svetlana has,” Nika said, winking at Mickey. “See you in the morning.”
Mickey just picked up his cocoa and sipped it calmly as Nika left the room. Ian turned a questioning gaze on him, he just couldn’t hide his curiosity.
“My wife’s girlfriend,” Mickey said over the rim of the cup he still had held up to his face. “My wife’s, ah, gay.”
“So am I,” Ian blurted out, having just noticed Mickey’s knuckle tattoos and feeling very disoriented and confused all of the sudden. Typical, Ian thought to himself-Lip had always told him he couldn’t play it cool for as long as he could remember.
“You don’t say,” Mickey said in a slightly curious tone himself.
Ian belatedly realized he was talking to one of Terry Milkovich’s kids, and he looked around a bit panicked as if Terry might materialize out of the walls. Ian never dealt with the man personally, but the entire neighborhood knew the tales of his gay bashing back in the day.
“I seem to remember hearing one of you Gallagher boys was gay,” Mickey said, thinking. “I always figured it couldn’t be Lip, unless he was overcompensating-guy used to act like he was God’s gift to women.”
“He still does,” Ian said without thinking before it slipped out. Mickey laughed. Ian gulped down some cocoa.
“And I never knew anything about your younger brother,” Mickey continued.
“Two,” Ian corrected. “I, ah, have two younger brothers.” He took another long drink from his mug.
Mickey raised his eyebrows and nodded. “That’s so? I’m the youngest brother in my family, only Mandy’s younger than me.”
Ian just nodded.
“Don’t you want to ask me?” Mickey said.
Ian wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “Ask you what?” he choked out.
“Why my wife is gay, why I’m married to a gay woman who is living with her girlfriend?”
“None of my business,” Ian said. “But if you want to tell me anything, I’ll listen.”
Mickey liked that answer, though, and made a decision. “Did you ever hear about any of us Milkovich kids being gay?”
Ian shook his head no. He still felt like he might low-key need to crap his pants.
Mickey took a deep breath then said, “Well, I am, and the way my dad found out was one day he came home unexpectedly and caught me with a dude right here in the living room.”
Ian was holding his breath. How the hell did Mickey get out of that alive?
“So, he, ah, called this pimp he knew and told him to send over a Russian hooker to, ah, fuck the gay out of me,” Mickey said, looking down at his mug the entire time.
“Jesus,” Ian whispered, the wince audible in his voice even though Mickey still hadn’t looked up.
“It didn’t work, “Mickey said, finally looking up. “But we got Yev out of it, so I can’t say it was all bad.”
Ian nodded. “I’d have to agree with you there, he’s a hell of a kid.”
Mickey smiled a little smile. He liked the way this redhead put things. Mickey took another deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I never told anyone that before-outside of my brothers and Mandy.”
Ian just nodded, again. He didn’t know what to say, but he felt a warmth inside that Mickey trusted him with the information. He picked up his mug, but when he tilted it to his lips to take a drink, it was empty. He set it down gently on the table.
“You want a refill?” Mickey asked, tossing some more marshmallows into his own half empty cup.
Ian shook his head regretfully. “I really ought to get going. I have the breakfast shift at the diner tomorrow and it’s way past my bedtime already.”
Mickey looked disappointed, but nodded. He got up from the table and said, “I’ll walk you out.”
While Ian was putting his coat on out in the living room, Mickey reached into his back pocket and got out his wallet. “Let me give you a reward…” he began, but Ian cut him off.
“What? No way! I did what anyone would’ve done. Seeing Yevgeny and the dog together was enough, plus you gave me cocoa,” Ian insisted.
“But it’s customary to offer a reward for a lost dog,” Mickey really wanted to thank Ian. He couldn’t imagine how Yev could’ve handled it if the dog hadn’t been found.
Ian looked at Mickey for a long moment, a smile starting to play on his lips. “There is one thing I’d like, if you don’t mind my having it,” he told Mickey.
“Anything, name it,” Mickey said.
“Could I keep your number-maybe use it sometime?” Ian said, his thoughts and some other parts finally catching up to the fact this handsome man had told him he was gay not ten minutes earlier.
Mickey licked the corner of his mouth. “Use it for what?” Mickey asked, raising an eyebrow. “In case you need help finding a lost pet sometime?”
Ian wrinkled his nose cutely as his brows came together wondering if Mickey was serious. “I don’t have any pets,” Ian said slowly. “I was thinking of using it for something else-to, ah, ask you out, maybe?”
Mickey grinned. “Well, sure, you can keep it for something like that.”
Ian was putting on his hat, pulling it down snug over his ears, smiling with his lips pressed together, his eyes shining.
“Well, I’ll be seeing ya,” Ian was saying just as Mickey said, “I want to thank you again…” and Mickey stepped forward to hug Ian but Ian was at that very moment sticking his hand out for a handshake, and they kind of got tangled up in each other, then Ian tried for the hug and wound up bumping his face right into Mickey’s, hard.
Their noses were touching, and they were looking right into each other’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Ian said, eyes sparkling.
“I thought, since you were asking me out…” Mickey was saying at the same time, not sure what to say next. He was about to say he usually didn’t hug people, but right now with Ian’s arms around him, he didn’t want to have him let go.
“Didn’t ask you out yet,” Ian said, pulling his face away and jutting his chin out, just a little. He squeezed Mickey’s waist then let his hands drop. “Just asked to keep your number.”
“Oh, ah,” Mickey was flustered, and Ian liked it. Mickey finally let his hands drop too, and turned to open the door for Ian. “Whatever,” he finally settled on. “See ya.”
Ian nodded and stepped out the door. Mickey had just finished sliding the chain in place after locking the deadbolt when his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and could hear Ian clearly through the phone and muffled through the door as he said, “Hey, Mickey, are you free tomorrow night?”
