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Mickey Milkovich Does Not Do Birthdays

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Ian was a determined man, when he wanted to do something, there wasn’t much else he thought about. It could be a blessing and a curse. It is what got him, Mickey, after all. If he had not been so determined to worm his way into Mickey’s heart, he highly doubted they would be together today. That was the thing about Mickey, and Ian knew from previous conversations, that Mickey hated his birthday, he even went as far as to refuse to give the actual date of the birthday to avoid any situations like the one Ian was planning on putting him in.

Over the years he had honestly forgotten about It most of the time, well avoided it. When he and Mickey had gotten started, he was too afraid to push, and he honestly hadn’t even thought about it much in the last few years. Except, Mickey always does something nice for him for his birthday. This last birthday, Mickey had actually taken him out of town and had a weekend for just them. It wasn’t something that Mickey was into, Ian knew that. That’s the main reason he was sitting at the table, idly chatting with Mandy when he happened to ask when Mickey’s birthday was anyway. She had mouthed off some date which was within next couple of weeks and shrugged. Then added…”You know he hates his birthday right?” He nodded but it didn’t matter.

He spent the next two weeks planning a big birthday party at the Gallaghers. Mandy seemed to have forgotten her earlier comment about Mickey hating his birthday. She was just concerned that there was a party. Iggy, on the other hand, had oddly protested and said he wanted nothing to do with anything involving Mickey’s birthday. No explanation given, which was odd because if anybody who was all about the party, it was Iggy.

The plan was set on the day, Everything was ready, Mickey was coming to the house for dinner, any time now. As usual, he fought against family dinners but he always showed up anyway. Ian had figured his birthday would be the same way. He would be mad and then he would be happy that Ian cared enough.

That was not the case.

Mickey walked in and looked around looking confused, within seconds it was apparent the party was for him, and his confusion turned to pain and anger. Ian couldn’t place the pain but he knew that Mickey Milkovich anger way too well by now. This had not been a good idea, but he didn’t know why. He just wanted to show his boyfriend that he cared enough to celebrate with him. He wanted to show him the same kind of time he had shown Ian. 

“Fucking kidding me?” Mickey said zeroing in on Ian. He knew who planned it, nobody else would have dared, he knew. Ian tried to reason with him, told him to enjoy the party that he had put together for him. “I don’t want no fucking party, I don’t want any of it, Ian, don’t you understand that?” He growls out, looking at Ian, not really seeing him but not being able to see past his anger.

“Mick…I just wanted…”

“You just wanted to throw a party…knowing how I feel about this shit? I don’t want to celebrate, there's nothing to celebrate.” Mickey yelled, everybody had already stilled but now were all openly staring at the two boys, eyes wide and of course looking at Mickey like he was crazy, and maybe he was after all.

“It’s your fucking birthday Mick…the day that the man I love was born onto this earth, of course, that’s something to celebrate, for me…It means everything.” Ian tried to reason and the shot of pain that soared through Mickey’s eyes looked like he had been stabbed right in the chest. 

“It’s not even my fucking birthday!” Mickey screams as he backs up and stumbles outside.

Mickey couldn’t think straight. Is that what Gallagher thought? That the day he was born was really that important….if that was true…He shook his head, he couldn’t take this shit right now. He just wanted to go home. He really wanted to be weak and vulnerable like Ian always wanted him to be and just let Ian hold him but what if it changed them…how would he feel…well fuck him. Fuck, Ian Gallagher.


Ian walked in the door, walking into the apartment, searching for Mickey, he found him on the balcony smoking, the ashtray that he had cleaned out this morning looked like Mickey had smoked an entire pack in the time it took Ian to get home.

“Mick…” Ian starts.

“Go away, Gallagher.” He says not looking at him, Ian walks closer anyway and sits in the chair opposite of him. Mickey looks the other way, but Ian can see it, the soft trace of shimmering telling Ian that Mickey was crying. That he had caused that.

“I don’t know what to say because I don’t understand mick.Make me understand why this upsets you so much. You did something nice for me, for mine…what do you mean it’s not your birthday…Mick please.”

“It’s none of your fucking business…my birthday is none of your business. Leave me alone.” Mickey grounds out.

“Mickey…what the fuck. It’s a birthday…for fuck's sake, stop acting like a child. It's just the day you were born, its an excuse to celebrate and party. Enjoy it, let people give you free shit. I don’t really understand what the big fucking problem here is. Whatever.” Ian finally gives up and walks back into the apartment. He trudges down the hall to the guest bedroom, he already knows he won't to be welcome in his own bed tonight. That’s how this went after all didn’t it? He did something stupid and Mickey pushed him away. At this point in their relationship, he shouldn’t be surprised but it didn’t stop it from hurting anyway.


The pouting and the anger went on all night and of course, Ian was Ian and he couldn’t leave it alone. Mickey knew it was coming, he knew Ian better than he knew himself sometimes. So when Ian snuck into their bedroom and sat in the chair at the end of the bed, he knew Ian was going to ask, but what he wasn’t expecting was Ian looking up at him with this sad face. This broken face. He didn’t like that face, He took in Ian’s appearance, he looked like hell. The classic ‘I didn’t sleep because I'm freaking out’ look. He sighed, knowing he was going to break.

“I just wanted to do something nice, I’m sorry I fucked it up like I fuck everything else up. I don’t ask again.” Ian said softly. That’s when Mickey saw the plate sitting in his lap. Ian walked over and sat it on the nightstand and turned around to leave. He looked so lost and unsure of himself.

“Damn it, Gallagher, can't ever just leave shit alone, can you? You just have to push and push and then get that fucking look on your face. Fucking fine.” He growls when he sees Ian turn around, the smile softly showing a little. Mickey took a deep breath.

“It’s not my birthday okay? It’s just some date Terry and mama picked out, They didn’t even know the real date okay?” Ian looks at him curiously.

“You know when you found out you weren't Frank's and you were happy…I mean kind of, not really but you were still you, still a Gallagher.” Mickey starts and Ian nods, not saying a word.

“It’s not like that for me. I’m not even a Milkovich okay? I was born in some fuck all country, and Mom found me and shit when I was a kid, and she felt bad for the helpless piece of shit kid with no future and no life, that couldn’t read or write, or do a damn thing for himself, so she took me home, got me cleaned up and enrolled me in school. That’s it.”

“Mick, why didn’t you just tell me…I could have…I don’t know…something.”

“There's more…you love me for who y9ou know Ian, it’s not real. I'm not a Milkovich, I'm not mandy’s asshole brother who you fell for, I’m not even the son of the man who literally beat the shit out of us. He doesn’t even give a shit about me, he never did. If people didn’t think I was his son…I don’t know my birthday Ian but I know the year…still all of that, I’m not…”

“Mick…You think your birthday or parents make you…who you are?  Who I love it doesn’t. None of it matters. I love you for who you are. Not what your last name is…not any of it and certainly not for what your birthday is.”

“I’m older than you think.” Mickey lets out

“How much older?” Ian asks rolling his eyes, it doesn’t matter.

“I’m 25,” He says looking down. “Well I mean roughly. I don’t have a date or anything.”

“So…like when we started boning you were 20?” Ian asks.

“If this a you were too old for me joke, it’s not funny.  Look at who you were fuckin before me asshole.” Mickey laughs and Ian gets close and pulls Mickey to him.

“How about this…your birthday is what we make it. Instead of celebrating or refusing to on a date Terry picked out, what about a day I pick out. A day that means so much more.”


“The day I first saw you for the first time?”

“You remember the date of when I ran after you?” Mickey asks and Ian chuckles.

“Nope. May 5th, I was 8…you were supposed to be 11, but you would have been 14 I guess. You were standing on the side of the dugout getting yelled at…and then you walked over and pissed on that base…that’s the first time I saw you.”

“You don’t seriously remember that shit?” Mickey laughs and Ian pulls him in.

“Mickey I love you for you, me and you…this shit…nothing can change that. Not even a damn birthday..or the fact that you’re an old man at 25.” He says laughing and Mickey rolls his eyes.


It was late at night, the stars were shining. It was May 5th, the first time Ian and Mickey would celebrate what would now be Mickey’s birthday for them. Mickey had his hands on the railing of their balcony, he looked out at the twinkling stars and thought about how good the night had actually been. Instead of a party, Ian had opted for a night of just them. They went to a club, they came home and ate, and now here they were on the balcony. The cigarette hung from Mickey’s lips, his back arched, his clothes long forgotten in the house somewhere.  “Fuckkk. That’s good.” He let out in a low moan as his boyfriend licked at his hole from under him. He was surprised he hadn’t toppled off this balcony yet, the sheer pleasure running through him. Ian got up swiftly and rammed into him, Mickey still held on tight, letting the cigarette fall from his lips to the ground under them.  He moaned out again, the pleasure so much and so real for him.

He decided that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all. Especially when Ian pulled out of him, picked him up and slammed into him bracing himself on the glass door.  He knew there was sure to be an angry neighbor or two tomorrow morning from the noise and possibly the show on the balcony but he couldn’t give a shit. He was in heaven.

“Gallagher..” He let out and Ian hummed, looking at him.

“Carry me to bed, I want to pass the fuck out as soon as we cum…fucking amazing man.” Ian nodded, slowly walking while still inside of Mickey. Probably made it difficult to walk but Mickey was enjoying the hell out of it, with every step, Ian moved up and down, and hit his prostate over and over again. He didn’t even make it to the bed before he was cumming in between them as they hit the door to the bedroom. Ian chuckled.  But layed mickey down on the bed.

“Your turn,” Mickey said softly, crawling on his boyfriend, taking him in his mouth, until Ian was shooting warm cum down his throat.