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jealousy, jealousy

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There were many things about the fucking west side that caused Mickey to nearly pop a vein or two, like the too quiet nights and the lack of transgression and overly expensive beers and his polite neighbors, for starters. And, fuck, the laundry room in his and Ian’s boujee apartment complex. That never failed to get on Mickey’s last goddamn nerve. Look away for two seconds and your shit gets stolen. Normally, he’d be on the thieving end of the stick, but here, his shit seemed to be getting nicked right from under his nose.

Ian had to bite his tongue hard to stop himself from snickering when he found his angry little husband bent over in their bedroom, furiously rummaging through his clothes with a hard scowl. He had nothing but a pair of boxers on, his hair still damp from his shower.

“Hey. Whatcha doin’?” Ian asked but he already knew the answer. He had a bad habit of hiding Mickey’s shirts, leaving him to throw on Ian’s instead even though they were a couple sizes too big. Ian loved watching Mickey drown in his clothes – in fact he considered it aphrodisiacal, if anything.

“Can’t find any of my fucking shirts, man. I think somebody’s been swiping ‘em in the laundry room.” Mickey grunted out and Ian had to fight to keep a straight face.

“Maybe it’s payback for those Hawaiian shirts you stole.”

Mickey flipped him off and closed the dresser with a sigh.

“You can borrow a shirt of mine if you’d like?” Ian was already handing Mickey one of the many raglan shirts he owned and Mickey accepted it with a defeated exhale. He pulled it over his head and Ian tried not to jump him right then and there as he watched the shirt land softly over his thighs, hanging loosely off his chest.

“Don’t fuckin’ say anything.” Mickey flipped him off again as if he knew exactly what Ian was thinking.

“You look so cute though.”

“Fuck you.”

Ian stepped forward to pull Mickey against him but Mickey side-stepped him, dodging him effortlessly. “Fuck off.”

“Oh, come here.” Ian lunged at him again, trying to trap him in his arms but Mickey was too quick, too agile and tiny that he slipped right past him.

“Fuck you! And call me cute again I’ll rip your tongue right out of your fucking head and shove it up your ass, bitch.”

There was something about the way Mickey laid violent threats that had Ian swooning like a lovestruck teen again. Deep down, Mickey was still the same old harsh and hard-hitting piece of south side trash that little freckled, 15-year-old, Ian was head-over-heels in love with.

Ian managed to grip his husband at the fleshy waist and pulled him tight against him. He looked down at him with heart-shaped eyes.

“I love when you wear my clothes. They look better on you anyway.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” Mickey tried to fight against him again but Ian already had him pinned down on the bed beneath him, holding his wrists firmly above his head.

“Trying to run from me, Milkovich?” Ian growled into Mickey’s ear as he ground his hips against him. A little game of cat-and-mouse never failed to make Ian chub up in his pants, and he could say the same for the man beneath him.

A shiver ran up Mickey’s spine as Ian worked his mouth against his neck, kissing and biting and sucking little love marks all over his sensitive skin. Mickey squirmed underneath him, parting his legs and giving Ian the space he needed to plant himself between his thighs.

“I love you, you know. I love you so fucking much.”

“Mmm…” Mickey hummed against Ian's heated skin.

“Do you love me?” Ian kept thrusting into Mickey’s pelvis, aiming his painfully hard cock at the junction of Mickey’s clothed ass.

“Mmm…” Mickey moaned.

Ian gave a particularly hard thrust that had Mickey lurching up the bed towards the headboard. He clung harder onto Ian, gripping his husband’s shirt in his tight fists while trying to pull it over his head.

“Say you love me,” Ian demanded, hips still rocking and rubbing up against Mickey’s convulsing hole.

“I love you.” Mickey mewled.

“How much?”

“More than anything. I love you more than anything. Please kiss me.”

Ian spent the next thirty minutes or so fucking Mickey while he wore his shirt, bunched up at his hips as Mickey moaned into his husband’s ear, telling him how much he loves him and just how good it feels. Begging him to keep pounding him just like that as he clawed at his back.

“Like that, huh, baby?”

Yes. Don’t stop, I love that. Love when you fuck me like that.”

“Say my name.”

“Ian!” He cried out. “Ian-Ian-Ian-I-love-you-so-fucking-much-Ian!

They ended up taking a long shower together after they finished, and if Mickey spent some of that time on his knees praising his man with his mouth, then that’s their business.

Afterward, when Ian threw on a white tank and passed Mickey another one of his shirts to wear, they made their way downstairs. Liam had called earlier asking if he could come over and make use of their heated pool and had texted a couple of minutes ago saying that he was here and that they needed to let him in.

But when they finally made it downstairs, Liam was already lounging beside the pool on one of the chairs with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He had a box of orange juice in his hand and was in deep conversation with a man that had a mop of thick chestnut curls and a congenial, friendly laugh.

It took Ian a few seconds to finally realize who it was and he stopped dead in his tracks, stiffening up beside Mickey. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat and he stared, unblinking, at the man he hadn’t seen in years. And here he was, smiling and talking to his little brother as if no time had passed at all.

Mickey noticed Ian’s discomposure and gently reached out to him. “Hey, you okay, man?”

Ian said nothing as he walked over to where Liam and Trevor were seated.

“Hey.” He said slowly, trying his best to hide his disbelief.

Trevor looked up at him, squinting slightly and shielding his eyes with his hand to block out the sun. He didn’t look surprised at all to see Ian.

“Hey.”

Liam perked up then, noticing that his brother was standing beside him.

“Hey, Ian. Trevor let me in and got me some juice. He’s cool.”

Ian didn’t look away from Trevor.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I saw him standing at the gate and I recognized him. The juice is from the vending machine in the gym. Hope you don’t mind.”

Trevor stood up but didn’t make any attempt to move closer to Ian, not knowing if this was an appropriate moment to hug or anything. Between them, Liam awkwardly shuffled away from the uncomfortable situation. He grabbed his shoes and staggered closer to where Mickey was standing not too far away with an evident bewildered look on his face.

“What are you doing here? Why are you here?” Ian asked, finally finding his voice again.

“Well, I just moved in a couple days ago.”

“I didn’t even know you were still in Chicago.”

“Yeah, I, uh, left for a while, but I’m back now.” Trevor stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged forward. “That a wedding ring I see?”

Ian clutched the silver band and lazily circled it around his finger.

“Oh, yeah. It’s been nearly two years now.”

“Wow. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Uh,” Ian turned towards Mickey, suddenly remembering that he was watching the entire scene play out. Trevor followed his gaze and noticed the dark-haired man eyeing them suspiciously with his arm wrapped protectively around Liam’s shoulders.

“That him?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Ian said. “That’s my husband. Mickey.”

“Mickey?” Trevor looked at Ian again. “Like, Mickey, Mickey?”

“Yeah.”

“You married him?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

And it’s like they both suddenly remembered when Ian ran off with him to the Mexican border, leaving Trevor behind to wonder and worry about Ian’s whereabouts.

“Well, I gotta get going,” Trevor said, trying to end the conversation without making it any more awkward than it already was. “But I guess we’ll still be seeing each other around since we both…”

“Yeah.”

Trevor nodded at him before turning to Mickey and Liam and doing the same. He gave Liam a little smile and wave as well, before turning around and walking toward his own apartment.

“Who was that?” Mickey asked as soon as Ian joined Liam and him.

“Trevor.” Ian didn’t elaborate, but Mickey knew. Mickey was well aware of Ian and Trevor’s relationship – the topic came up while they were bunking together in prison, along with Ian’s whole Gay Jesus era. He knew that this was the guy Ian ran back to after leaving him to cross the border by himself.

Mickey’s shoulders sagged. If Ian could do it to him once, he could do it again. Right? He knew it sounded ridiculous but he couldn’t stop the intrusive thought.

Deep down Mickey knew that wasn’t the reason why Ian wouldn’t escape with him when he really needed him, but somewhere on the surface, a nagging voice was reminding him that he was never really good enough for Ian. Even after nearly two years of marriage, he couldn’t help thinking about all the times Ian ended things with him, wouldn’t wait for him, cheated… when all Mickey ever wanted was him. And now this Trevor asshole was back and he was going to ruin everything. Ian was going to rethink and regret everything. He was going to regret choosing Mickey. Right?

After all, Ian did mention that everyone else he’d previously been with still had a piece of heart while Mickey only had about 87%. Maybe Trevor had the other 13% – maybe he still had the 13%.

Mickey nodded and rubbed at his eyebrow. This whole fucked up situation felt like a slap in the face. He needed a fuckin’ drink.

“Mick.” Ian noticed Mickey’s sudden disgruntlement and moved to touch him but he stepped out of his reach.

“I, uh, just remembered that I promised your brother I’d help him with something.”

He turned around to walk away. He needed a few drinks – one wouldn’t quite silence his racing thoughts. He needed to clear his head.

“Hey, wait, Mick.” Ian tried. “Would you at least tell me which brother?”

“Alibi.” Mickey said. And then he was out of sight.

Liam shifted uncomfortably next to Ian. “Maybe you want to go after him? I could leave?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, bud. Get back in the pool, I’ll order us some pizza, okay”

“Is Mickey gonna be okay?” Liam was concerned. He didn’t really remember Trevor or his relationship with his brother, but he does remember seeing his face around the Gallagher house, albeit during a time when Mickey was never around. He couldn’t help wondering what all the tension was between them?

“Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Liam shrugged. He’d ask Ian about it later when it was all water under the bridge.

Ian pulled out his phone and texted Carl:

Ian (13:48): Yo, let me know if Mickey shows up at the alibi okay

Carl (13:49): 👍

After Liam climbed back into the pool, Ian sat down on one of the lounge chairs and ordered a Hawaiian pizza with no pineapple. Carl’s texts came through minutes later.

Carl (14:02): Mickey’s here and he looks like shit

Carl (14:02): you guys doing ok?

Ian (14:03): We’re fine. Everything’s fine

He waited a few moments, considering, and then:

Ian (14:06): Did he say anything to you?

Carl (14:07): nah he’s just cussing kermit out like usual

Carl (14:08): seems extra grumpy though he’s definitely trying to get hammered quick

Ian tried to ignore the shitty feeling eating away at his stomach as he told himself that Mickey was just being overdramatic as usual. He’d come around. All Ian had to do was wait.

But a couple of hours later, Ian’s phone was sporting several unanswered outgoing texts and calls to Mickey, and he couldn’t help the anxious feeling that was swimming inside him. Mick still hadn’t come home and Ian would be lying if he said he wasn’t lingering at the front door, waiting for it to open. He could guess why Mickey was upset, he would be too if one of Mickey’s exes had shown up and popped their little bubble of bliss. But Mick had nothing to worry about. He had to know that, right? He just had to know that what Ian and Trevor had was long gone and long over. They hadn’t even kept in touch after they ended things. Mickey just had to know that no matter what, Ian would always, always choose him and want to be with him. Always.

Liam had stayed for lunch and even made a friend at the pool – another young boy who was around his age and lived two floors above Ian and Mickey. They’d played Xbox in his apartment all afternoon until Tami had come to pick him up. She’d even checked in with Ian and shared a new recipe she’d found for an organic salad with roasted veggies and cheese.

The sun was already halfway past the skyline and still no sign – or call or text – of Mickey.

A little after 6, Ian had given up on concentrating on the Netflix series he’d put on for some background noise and decided to get started on dinner – he didn’t want Mickey to go to bed upset and hungry – when a soft knock sounded at the door. Ian was hoping that it was Mickey – who had forgotten his keys – but was thoroughly disappointed when he opened the door to reveal a man way shorter than his husband with lighter, wavier hair.

“Trevor?” He tried to hide his blatant disappointment but Trevor seemed to notice regardless.

“Hi, yeah, sorry for just dropping by like this. I live right down the hall actually,” – he pointed towards the closed door of apartment 220 – “and I saw you over here so I figured that this was your place? Hope I’m not intruding or anything.”

Ian leaned forward and glanced into the hallway, searching for any sign of Mickey finally coming home. When he noticed that the halls were empty, he turned back to face Trevor.

“You need something?”

“No. I guess I just wanted to apologize. I don’t really know what for but I could sense some tension earlier… with your husband. Hope I didn’t cause any unnecessary strain.”

Ian lied. “Nope. S’all good.”

“Good. I’m really happy for you, Ian.”

“Thanks.” He blinked. Standing here, staring at the man he once thought he loved and feeling absolutely nothing made him feel lighter somehow.

“It was good to see you again. Even though we didn’t exactly part on good terms, but still,”

“Yeah,” Ian agreed as leaned against the doorframe. The heaviness in his chest was beginning to mitigate and he found himself smiling down at Trevor – and he meant it when he replied, “It was good to see you, too.”

Trevor stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “I wanted to say that you look good, Red, but I don’t want your husband pummeling my face in.”

Ian laughed unreservedly, “Yeah, he’d definitely do that. I’m not even kidding.”

“Then I won't say anything.”

The two laughed like old friends catching up but the sudden sound of a pair of heavy timbs echoing down the hallway interrupted their little cordial moment.

Trevor backed away from Ian almost immediately as Mickey shoved past them and stepped into his apartment, giving them both the cold shoulder.

Ian sent Trevor an apologetic look before closing the door and following Mickey deeper into the apartment. Mickey was noticeably pissed off, flouncing angrily from the living to the kitchen before throwing the fridge door open and grabbing a beer. Ian could tell that it wasn’t his first and that he needed to thread this situation lightly. Drunk Mickey was a tough one to pacify.

“I started with dinner.” Ian tried calmly. “Wanna finish it together?”

“No.” Mickey spat after swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp.

“Okay, well, it’ll be ready in a bit if you’re hungry.”

Ian stood unmoving at the threshold to the kitchen as he watched his husband rub at his furrowed brow, his face hard and cold and his jaw clenched.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, Gallagher.”

“I don’t know, you just seem a little on edge.”

“Just needed some air, man. Why’re you on my balls?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For fuckin’ what, Gallagher?”

“I don’t know,” Ian said honestly. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. It wasn’t his fault that his ex-boyfriend – who, out of all of Ian’s previous lovers, Mickey detested the most – showed up without warning; but it felt like a kick in the teeth watching Mickey close up like this and turn away from him.

“Missed you today. Was thinking we could watch that new cyclone movie you’ve been wanting to see.” Ian tried again. Mickey burped loudly as he tossed his empty bottle into the trash and it shattered from the harsh impact.

“Gotta piss.” He shoved past Ian and stalked off to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. Ian stood right where he was for a very long time, and even after Mickey went into the bedroom and shut the door.

Ian finished up their dinner. And ate alone. He took a plate to their bedroom for Mickey and asked if he was hungry, but was met with silence. Mickey was nestled in bed already with the blankets pulled up to his chin but Ian couldn’t tell if he was asleep since he had his back turned to the door.

“What was he doing here?”

“What?” Ian turned back to look at him. Mickey was turned away from him. The room went silent for a moment and Ian figured that Mickey might be completely shutting him out again.

Until, “Your little boyfriend. What was he doing here? At my fucking house?”

“Mickey.” Ian heaved a sigh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Mickey stayed silent.

“It’s over with him. It’s been over for years. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“He still have a piece of your heart?”

“What?”

“Yes or no?”

“No, Mick. Why would you even think that?”

Silence again. This time Ian’s sure that Mickey was deliberately ignoring him. He didn’t push any further. Ian left Mickey’s plate on their bedside table in case he was hungry before leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

He did the dishes alone – usually, they do it together – and then sat in the living room with the TV off and his phone in his hand, tossing it back and forth, contemplating.

He texted Lip:

Ian (19:13): Tami ever get mad at you for ex related reasons?

Lip (19:16): hasn’t met any of em

Lip (19:16): why?

Ian (19:16): Just wondering

Lip (19:16): trouble in paradise?

Ian (19:16): Maybe

Ian (19:17): Remember Trevor?

Lip (19:17): dude with the lady parts?

Ian (19:17): Fuck you

Ian (19:17): Yes

Lip (19:18): what about him?

Ian (19:19): He’s here he moved in

Lip (19:20): shit

Lip (19:20): mickey kill him yet?

Ian (19:20): No but I’m sure he’s thinking about it

Ian (19:20): He might be planning on killing me first though idk

Lip (19:21): what’d you do

Ian (19:21): Nothing!

Ian (19:21): He won’t talk to me

Ian (19:21): I don’t know what to do lip I don’t know why he’s so mad

Lip (19:22): maybe he’s jealous man

Ian (19:22): He has no reason to be

Lip (19:23): so tell him that

Ian tapped the back of his phone repeatedly, pondering. He didn’t understand why Mickey was so affected by Trevor’s presence. Ian was married to him. Ian loved him. Trevor showing up here out of the blue wouldn’t ever change that. Why on earth couldn’t he see that?

Ian thanked Lip and said goodnight before mustering up the courage to go back into the bedroom. Mickey still had his back turned towards the door and his plate was still left untouched. Ian felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t stand seeing Mickey like this.

“Hey.” He started slowly, testing the waters. “You awake?”

Silence.

“Mickey, I love you so much. I just need you to know that and… and I don’t know how to prove that to you. I feel like I have been proving that to you for the past decade, and I don’t understand why you’re so mad. I just want us to talk; will you talk to me? Please?”

Still nothing.

“Would you at least look at me?”

“When you told me I didn’t have your whole heart I was crushed.” Mickey breathed, startling Ian since he hadn’t expected Mickey to say anything at all.

“When did I say that?”

“While ago. Said I only had 80% of your heart and your exes had the rest.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Still said it.” He heaved out a tired sigh. “Meant it then.”

“I didn’t.”

“Gallagher, I’m fuckin’ tired please just leave me alone.”

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other.”

Mickey went quiet again and Ian knew that they weren’t going to resolve this tonight. His shoulders sagged as he watched Mickey nestle under the covers without him, shutting him out, refusing to talk. Ian didn’t know if he should climb into bed with him or resort to the couch for the night. Either way, he already knew that he was going to get zero sleep.

Everything was fucked and Ian knew that he only had himself to blame. Him and his dumbass mouth.

Ian sat on the couch and turned the TV on again, hoping that an old rerun of some show would put him to sleep, but it wasn’t working. He ended up going down to the pool, needing some air.

Trevor seemed to have the same idea.

Ian found him sitting in one of the lounge chairs with his head tilted back, eyes fixated on the sky.

Ian sat down some distance away from him.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey.” Trevor gave a light smile when he noticed him. “It’s so chilled and quiet here.”

“Doing a bit of stargazing?”

“Yeah. Nice night tonight.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor noticed the lack of enthusiasm in Ian’s voice.

“You doing okay?”

“Been better.”

“Husband related?”

Ian heaved out a sigh. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. It’s probably my fault,”

“No, it’s not. This is on me.”

“Still, I feel like me being here has caused some tension. Besides, I can tell that he hates me. I don’t blame him, I mean, he has every right to. I suppose.”

Ian sits forward and rests his arms on his knees, eyeing Trevor reluctantly. “He’s pissed because he thinks there’s still some unfinished business going on between us. Thinks I might still have some vague feelings for you.”

Trevor raised a perfectly shaggy brow. “Do you?”

“No, of course not.” Ian frowned. “No offense.”

“None taken. Besides, feeling’s mutual.”

Ian nodded slowly. A part of him wishes they could have stayed friends – fuck, they would’ve been better off as friends anyway – but Mickey was the most important thing in his life and if he wanted Trevor completely out of the picture, then so be it.

“I, uh,” Trevor started quietly, blinking up at the stars again. “I’m glad you two managed to work shit out. You seem happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Happier than when you were with me?” He joked, but Ian was serious when he said, “It’s always been him, Trev. And I’m sorry for what I did to you back then, you know, leaving you behind and following him down to Mexico,” Ian paused and Trevor nodded, understanding.

“But it’s always been him. I would follow him down to hell if he’d let me.”

“I get it and I don’t blame you. I’m just glad you’re doing better. Way better than the last time I saw you, in fact.”

“That was a fucked-up time.”

“Sorry I abandoned you.”

“Didn’t even notice.”

The conversation kind of ended there but Ian felt so much lighter. And when he climbed into bed that night, Mickey was fast asleep, snoring lightly with the moonlight shining onto his face and his nose scrunched up like a little mouse. Ian wrapped one arm protectively around him and held him close. Tomorrow, they were going to sort this shit out and Ian was going to love him and love him and love him.

Ian woke up before Mickey – which was the norm. He had to get up early to take his meds anyway – and got busy in the kitchen making bacon and eggs and banana pancakes. Mickey hadn’t touched his plate last night so Ian knew that he would be starving as soon as he got up.

He brewed the coffee and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard when he heard two little soft pads of feet tread into the kitchen.

“Morning.” Ian smiled softly, hoping that his husband was in a better mood today. “Sleep okay?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyes and frowned. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast. You hungry?”

Mickey nodded slowly, eyeing Ian suspiciously.

“Thought you might be. Here.” He handed Mickey a mug of coffee just the way he liked it. Black and bitter. Ian had to restrain himself from leaning forward and planting a kiss on his husband’s lips, but he missed him and all he wanted to do was hold him and kiss him until he gasped for air.

Mickey took a couple sips before placing his mug onto the counter.

“Look, man, about last night –”

“I’m sorry.” Ian interrupted him. “I’m sorry for telling you that you didn’t have my whole heart, because you do. You always did. You are my entire life and I love you so much and I’m sorry for ever making you doubt that. Wish I could turn back time and take those words back. I’m sorry for hurting you, Mick.”

Mickey stared at him for a moment.

“You mean that?”

“‘Course I do.”

“Fuck you for hurting me, Ian.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And fuck you for bringing that bitch over to our place.”

“I didn’t invite him here. He just showed up.”

“Next time slam the door in his fuckin’ face.”

He stepped toward Ian and placed his hand on his jaw, rubbing gently.

“You’re scruffy.”

“I know. I need to shave.”

“Don’t. Love you like this.”

Ian leaned down and kissed him softly. Before he could deepen it, Mickey’s stomach growled.

Ian pulled away and handed him a plate stacked with his favorite pancakes. “Eat.”

After they were filled and sated, Ian guided Mickey into the bedroom and tugged him closer. “Gonna show you just how much I love you.” He murmured against his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re mine, baby, all mine.” He reached down and grabbed at Mickey’s boxer-clad ass. “This is mine.” He moved to kiss him on the mouth. “These lips are mine.” Guided his hand towards Mickey’s crotch which was tenting in his drawers. “This is all mine.”

“Mhm, Gallagher. If anything I should be the one staking my claim.” Mickey stood up on his toes and latched his mouth on the side of Ian’s heated neck and sucked hard. “Gotta show all ‘em twinks that you’re taken.”

“Jesus, Mick.” Ian scoffed at him, but fuck if he wasn’t completely turned on by Mickey’s possessiveness.

They kissed and sucked and bit at each other, marking each other up and taking what was theirs.

Ian took his time with Mickey as soon as they were both naked and settled between the sheets. He made sure to kiss him all over, sweetly, gently, until Mickey was an impatient mess underneath him. He was squirming with need, wanting Ian to cut out the soft love-making bullshit and fuck the ever-living shit out of him already. But Ian wanted slow. He wanted soft and he wanted sweet. He wanted to tease Mickey into submission.

He trailed his lips lower, kissing his way down to Mickey’s plumped-up, leaking dick and teased his mouth around his groin, not quite touching him yet.

“Quit this shit and suck me off, Gallagher.” Mickey grunted through his teeth.

“Well, that isn’t very romantic.”

“Fuck romance, make me cum.”

“Bossy much?” Ian smirked as he licked up Mickey’s shaft before sucking his dripping tip between his lips. Mickey guided his hand into Ian’s hair, tugging gently as he pushed his head further. Ian swallowed him down, albeit awfully slowly, and pinned Mickey’s hips down onto the bed when he tried to buck up into him.

He threw his head back, exhaling lowly as his husband worked his mouth around him, his throat constricting as he swallowed him down deeper. Ian ignored his gag reflex as he focused on bring Mickey closer to the edge, bobbing his faster and faster, taking him so deep he had to resort to breathing through his nose.

“Ah, fuck,” Mickey mewled, back arching, hips stuttering. If Ian didn’t pull off right now, he was going to shoot down his throat. “Stop, stop, please don’t wanna cum yet. Want you inside me first. Please.”

Ian released him with a wet pop before wiping all the spit from his mouth and crawling up Mickey’s body. Hovering over him, he bent down and took Mickey’s bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, hard. Mickey gasped, almost inaudibly, when Ian kissed him, guiding his tongue into his mouth. He wanted Mickey to taste himself and see just why Ian loves it so much.

There was a whole lotta kissing and squirming, fingers and lube and moans and grunts before Ian began guiding his hard and aching cock into Mickey’s welcoming, already clenching hole.

Ian rocked into him while Mickey gripped at his back, raking his nails across his freckled skin, intentionally leaving behind some noticeable red lines. Mickey was marking his territory, Ian could tell. He smirked to himself, selfishly loving the when Mickey became jealous and territorial.

“Fuck yes, Ian! Right there! Just like that, baby.” Mickey was moaning way louder than usual, hoping that Trevor was right next door and could hear them. Mickey hoped he could hear just how good Ian was giving it to him, and only him, for the rest of his goddamn life.

Ian seemed to notice Mickey’s intended noisiness and it drove him into pounding him harder, giving him enough reasons to be as loud as he was. With Mickey wrapped completely around him, he guided his hips faster and harder until Mickey was a complete worn-out mess beneath him.

Ian stopped abruptly, causing Mickey to whimper, completely lost for words.

“I love you.” Ian praised against his husband’s lips. “I love you so much, don’t ever forget that.”

“Love you, too.”

“Okay, back to business.” Ian continued fucking him senseless.

And they spent the rest of the day that way, tangled in the sheets and not once leaving the apartment.

Later that night, Ian turned the radio up as they made their way over to Lip and Tami’s – who still lived in the same neighborhood as the previous Gallagher house – for another impromptu Gallagher party that kicked off about a half an hour ago. Debbie had texted Ian and told him to grab his husband and get their asses over there asap.

Liam was the first one to greet them when they walked through the door. He ran up to Ian and wrapped his tiny arms around his thighs. Ian lifted him up and hugged him tighter.

“Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

“Everything okay with you and Mickey?” Liam asked as soon as Ian set him down.

“We’re good.”

“Good, because I checked your financials and you two cannot afford to pay for a divorce lawyer right now.”

“Alright, okay. There’ll be no divorces anytime soon.” Ian ruffled Liam’s hair before joining the rest of his family in the living room. Mickey was talking to Tami – who was bouncing her newborn daughter, Emma, in her arms – in the kitchen and she waved at him as soon as she noticed him watching them. He waved back and soon Freddie was crawling towards him, wanting to be picked up like his sister.

Ian bent down and hoisted him up into the air, spurring a fit of giggles on. He cooed at him in baby voice, “Hi, buddy, shouldn’t you be asleep, huh? I hear you and your sis are driving your pops insane, yes you are, yes you are.”

Lip joined them, handing him a beer. He had an unopened can of Coke in his other. Ian accepted it before passing Freddie on to Debbie and he and Lip made their way outside before settling down on the steps.

“You’re in a good mood tonight. I’m guessing everything is going well in the marriage department.”

“Yeah.” Ian couldn’t hide his smile as took a sip of his beer.

“What happened, man?”

“Some time ago, I fucked up and told Mickey that my exes still had a piece of my heart. So, when he saw Trevor yesterday, he thought I still had some unresolved feelings for him. Because, well, I guess I did imply it.”

“Jesus, Ian.”

“And to make shit worse I told him that he didn’t have my whole heart, either.”

“Shit, man. I didn’t know you felt that way about him.”

“I don’t. I don’t even know why I said that.”

“Maybe, from time to time, you should probably shut up and do what you do best which is stand there and look pretty, okay? No more talking.”

Ian playfully punched Lip in the shoulder. “Fuck you.”

“I’m serious, man. You’ve always been happier with him. Don’t fuck this shit up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sure, Ian had made many questionable decisions that had caused a dent in his and Mickey’s relationship in the past, but they were learning and becoming better partners and figuring this marriage shit out together. Nothing, no matter how fucked-up or unexpected, was going to tear them apart. And best believe Ian wasn’t planning on fucking the best thing that has ever happened to him up. They were going to be just fine.