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Two Friends Like Us

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Ian wakes up in the morning with a smile already on his freckled face, as he opens his eyes lazily. Knowing Mickey has been sleeping just below him for the past several hours gives him an indescribable feeling of comfort, and it will be nice not to have to text him to say good morning for once. He dangles his hand over the edge of his bed again, waiting to see if Mickey takes it or not.

He doesn’t. Must still be asleep.

Ian rolls over on the bed, and pulls himself to the edge to look down and admire Mickey’s sleeping form.

But he isn’t there.

Ian frowns at the small pile of awkwardly folded blankets on the ground beside a couple of pillows, where Mickey had fallen asleep the night before.

He grabs his phone to check the time as he glances around the bedroom at his still sleeping brothers. It’s 7:30 a.m. The entire house is apparently still asleep, based on the overall quietness.

He gets up from his bed, careful not to make any noise, scratching his chest as he stretches slightly before padding down the hallway towards the bathroom.

No sign of Mickey in there either. Ian still feels half asleep as he takes a piss, wondering where Mickey had wandered off to.

He heads down the stairs slowly, towards the kitchen, hearing the coffee maker gurgling happily as a fresh pot of coffee is being made. The scent of the coffee makes his mind perk up slightly, in anticipation of caffeine.

“Fiona?” he asks, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. But as he steps fully into the kitchen he sees it’s Mickey standing there by the fridge, holding a brush and a dustpan filled with various pieces of cereal and dirt from the kitchen floor in his hands. 

Ian looks at him in confusion, raising his eyebrow at the unexpected sight. Mickey shrugs slightly defensively as he explains himself, “I woke up early, couldn’t fucking fall asleep again. So I came down to clean up a bit. I made you coffee”. Ian looks at the coffee maker, the pot now filled to the top with fresh coffee, and then back at Mickey. “You’re ama-“

“Oh sweet, who made coffee?” Fiona comes tumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen with them, impossibly light and beautiful even in the mornings. Mickey looks up at her somewhat shyly from behind his coffee cup, and Ian can’t believe how fucking adorable he can be sometimes.

“Mickey did”, Ian says, causing Fiona to turn and look at him in surprise.

“Oh, thanks” she says, as she takes the coffee cup that Mickey is offering her.

“Are you two like…” she glances between the two of them thoughtfully, and Ian sees Mickey’s eyes widen as his own heart begins to race, “… best friends now?” she finishes, taking a sip of her coffee. Ian nods his head vigorously and Mickey does too.

“Yeah, I was kinda wondering why you were always hanging around now” she laughs, looking at Mickey. He doesn’t answer, and instead just takes another drink of his coffee. “Yeah well, we sorta became friends on that field trip at the end of September” Ian explains, edging around Mickey to reach the toaster.

“Any friend that cleans the house and makes coffee is a fucking good one. Always welcome here, Mickey” Fiona adds, although she is looking at the dark-haired boy with a strange expression on her face, like she just can’t figure him out.

Ian can’t really fucking blame her though. Mickey’s standing there in their kitchen with FUCK U-UP tattooed onto his hands, and he’s sporting a slow healing split lip from another fight at school that took place not so long ago. At this point, Ian doesn’t even ask half of the time what a new scrape or bruise is from.

He’s just got a reputation and this- him cleaning up the Gallagher kitchen and making them coffee- doesn’t really fit it.

But Ian’s quickly learned that there’s a lot more to Mickey Milkovich than meets the eye, and he hopes Fiona eventually does too. He might be tough on the streets, or with outsiders, but he’d do damn near anything for someone he fucking cared about, something that really drew Ian to him.

He looks at his older sister wistfully as she begins to butter some of the toast he had made. This is the kind of thing he’d love to be able to talk to her about...

“Mandy texted me and said the power’s back up. I better head back home, have to grab my bio assignment.” Mickey eventually says, glancing towards the front door. “I’ll see ya at school Ian, and thanks for letting me stay over Fiona”.

She turns to look at him in surprise, “Oh, no problem. If the power goes out again just come back”. Mickey blushes slightly at the invitation, nodding his thanks, and Ian’s heart gets a warm stupid feeling from his sister’s words. For some reason, he just really wants his family to like Mickey, even if they can't know they're together. He waves as Mickey heads out the front door, wishing he could do more to say goodbye.

His phone lights up a few seconds later.

 *kiss* cause I couldn’t give you one

Ian smiles at his phone, squeezing it in his hand. Fiona hands him a plate with some toast on it, “You know, I think maybe I misjudged that kid before” she says thoughtfully.

Ian tries to answer casually, but his heart thumps slightly at Mickey being the topic of discussion, “Oh yeah?”

She nods, chewing a bite of her toast, “I honestly thought he was just a shit disturber, I mean who doesn’t think that? Milkovich’s are flat out crazy. But he seems nice enough when he’s around here”. Ian practically beams at his sister, and he feels another urge to tell her how he actually feels about the boy that she thinks is just his best friend.

Instead, he clears his throat slightly, and says, “He’s actually a really good friend to have, surprisingly enough”.

Fiona tousles her younger brother’s red hair with her free hand, “I’m glad to see you hanging out with friends your age Ian. You’re a good kid, you know that? Always helping me out at home. But you spent too much time on your own before. Everyone needs that one friend, you know? Like I have V”.

Ian swallows, remembering the lonely truth of that, “Yeah. I’m lucky to have a… friend, like him”.

Mickey ends up running late for school by the time he gets home and texts Ian to let him know, so Ian doesn’t see him again until second period. He pauses in the doorway of his classroom for a moment before heading over to the empty desk beside Mickey, no one being a rush to sit beside him at any given time.

Works out well for Ian.

“Hey” he says, looking down at what Mickey is scratching into his desk with his pen cap.

FUCK

No surprise there.

Mickey looks up from his handiwork to nod his head back, and as he turns slightly Ian notices that he is still wearing his t-shirt that he had borrowed under his unzipped hoodie, even though he’s wearing his own jeans now.

It’s just a plain dark blue t-shirt, no one else would ever even notice that it was Ian’s, but Ian let himself pretend during class it was a clear symbol that Mickey was his, to anyone else that might think otherwise.

When he heads to the bleachers at lunch he sees Mickey has a milkshake in his hand, and another one sitting on the ground beside himself. Ian takes the second one without asking, he doesn’t need to, he knows its for him. “Strawberry” Mickey says, taking a sip of his own, “Was fuckin craving another one after yesterday”.

“Thanks” Ian smiles, taking a sip of the thick and sweet drink, “When did you have time to get them?” Mickey yawns and stretches slightly, “Skipped third. Took a fuckin nap and then went and got these”.

Ian shivers slightly as he takes another sip of the milkshake. Frankly, it’s a little fucking cold out for the icecreamy drink, but he still appreciates the gesture.

He feels a little hotter as he watches Mickey suck on his straw with a final long and hard pull, reaching the bottom of his milkshake with a loud suctioning sound. Ian grins, “So, what do you think about maybe doing that to me after school?”

Mickey glances back at him, “Huh?”

Ian copies Mickey’s action on his own milkshake’s straw, and Mickey blushes slightly before looking away.

He doesn’t say anything, and Ian teases, “Well?” Mickey coughs uncomfortably into his hand, “Don’t know how”.

Ian frowns in confusion, “You mean, you’ve never-“ Mickey cuts him off, “No, I fucking haven’t”.