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Babysitting Duties

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Mickey groaned and shifted in his sleep, letting out an unhappy grunt as he went to reach for the warmth of his boyfriend, only to be greeted with a very cold side of the bed, which could only mean one thing. Ian had probably left much earlier to go for some inane run, Mickey would never even begin to try and understand why his boyfriend would get up at godforsaken times to run, running was such a pointless activity, nobody ever won anything.

He groaned again, louder and more grumpy checking the clock. Shit, it was later then he predicted. Most of the Gallagher’s would already be gone for school or work by now, Ian must have tired him out more than he thought last night. Mickey grinned happily to himself, well that was never a bad thing.

It was always nice to get away from the madness for a little while, with Svetlana looking after Yevgeny they had crashed over at the Gallagher’s last night after a weird family dinner that Mickey had somehow got roped into.

The older, volatile boy stretched his long limbs, waiting for the crack before padding down stairs, Ian’s slightly too big sweat pants hanging low on his hips.

"Ian?" He called out entering the kitchen only to be greeted by his boyfriend sitting at the kitchen table, phone in one hand and coffee in the other. He looked stressed, more stressed then he should be considering his meds were all in balance at the moment and he hadn't experienced any episodes in months.

Ian grinned softly when he saw his boyfriend enter, but went back to his phone call. Mickey took a seat next to him and stole his coffee, waiting more patiently then any Milkovich ever has.

"No, no it's fine Fi, I'll work something out for you, okay see you," Ian said and hung up the phone, looking desperately at Mickey.

Mickey raised an eyebrow taking a non-conspicuous sip of coffee, "What's up with Fiona?" he enquired.

Mickey and all the Gallagher’s had recently reached a mutual respect agreement. They all needed to put the past behind them in order to help Ian, and that meant being friendly. Mickey still wasn't particularly fond of the lot of them, but he would be lying if he said they weren’t growing on him. Where he has learnt to be less volatile to them, Fiona and the others had learnt to be more welcoming to him. Mickey certainly wasn’t about to start holding hands and singing songs around a damn camp fire, but it was progress. He pretended to just tolerate them, and they pretended like he was doing them a favour by being civil (when in reality Fiona liked to drop by the Milkovich house every other day to check on things, happy grin on her face as she would drop a kiss to Yevgenys forehead and one to Mickeys cheek).

"Fiona got called into work today, and I said I’d look after Liam and Lip. But work just called and said it’s urgent. I tried to call Fi again but she can't get it off," Ian said kind of defeated with a little frown that Mickey needed to urgently wipe of his boyfriend. Ian wasn't allowed to frown, it was one of Mickeys unspoken rules he had made to himself when he finally got Ian to stay.  

Mickey immediately went into protective, fix it mode without even thinking about what he was actually agreeing to, "I can do it." He shrugged nonchalantly surprising even himself.

Now while Mickey was getting much better with, well, everything that included social interaction, this even threw Ian off a bit. Ian was well aware of just how soft Mickey truly was, but had he heard him correctly?


“Well, you have to work," Mickey said suddenly uncertain, "Wait did you say Liam and Lip? Why the fuck would Lip need someone to take care of him?”

Ian rolled his eyes, "He woke up with a fever this morning, tried to get up for college and almost collapsed at the table. Fiona and me had to literally drag him back to bed and hold him down to get a temperature. It's a bit too high, it's probably just the flu, but still, when Lip gets sick he gets really sick" Ian said.

Mickey wanted to groan, of course it was Lip who got sick. And of course Lip would be the world’s crappiest patient. Mickey didn’t even know that weirdo could get sick, he thought the fucker must be immune to it with all the crap he talked.

"I've never seen Lip sick," Mickey said slowly.

Ian shrugged, "He's gotten sick like a handful of times, not even. Usually he'll piss off find somewhere until he sleeps it off. He doesn’t like to be looked after, a couple of times Fiona’s managed to keep him in bed though, he usually just complains and whines a bit but sleeps mostly. He hates being looked after, but he absolutely hates being looked after by Fiona cause she’s a bit, protective, that's why I said I'd do it. It would be easy, Fiona’s just really worried.  You know how she overreacts. If I leave him alone he might run off and kill himself, and besides I can't leave Liam alone and I don't think my boss would be happy about taking him to work. Would you mick?"

Ian looked at Mickey pleadingly and Mickey wanted to smash his head on the table. On what planet has Mickey actually ever been able to say no to Ian for real? And now he was going to get stuck babysitting the one person in the house who had managed to make sure he knows he doesn't like Mickey. Stupid fucking puppy eyed boyfriend.

"You owe me so big for this," Mickey grumbled.

Ian’s face split into the biggest grin ever and Mickey tried not to be hypnotized by it. He really did, but stupid Ian with his stupid eyes.

Mickey hated himself. People used to be afraid of him.

"Thank you so much Mick!" Ian jumped up and started peppering his boyfriends face with kisses. He pretended to grumble and make a fuss about it for a while, but Ian just smirked continuing. Mickey would never admit to liking his ridiculous boyfriend’s slobbery kisses.

"Just go to work army, I've got it covered here. I'll make sure genius boy doesn’t roll over and choke on his own vomit," He said.

Ian just smirked grabbing his jacket, "Someone should be home soon, I'll text Fiona and let her know what’s going on. There’s tea and orange juice and toast if he feels up for it, nothing that will upset his stomach though Lips a puker. And all of Liam’s stuff is as usual, do you need anything I can pick it up at the shop quickly? Are you sure you don't want me to call Sheila or Vee?" Ian paused.

Mickey rolled his eyes and gently shoved Ian in the direction of the door, "I'll be fine. I have a baby remember?"

Ian cocked his eyebrow, that didn't seem to set his mind at ease at all.

"We'll be fine, Liam’s the easiest kid to look after and Lip is, well Lip. I'll make sure he doesn't die. I promise," Mickey assured, he could tell this was actually getting to Ian. Lip was his big brother after all, while he didn’t feel this sentimental towards his own he tried to imagine if this was Mandy. He still wouldn’t be a little bitch about it, but he knew this was important to the ginger, so he tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

Ian nodded his head, more to himself then to Mickey and with one final kiss (and maybe some ass groping Mickey would never tell) the younger boy was finally gone.

Shit, Mickey thought.

Mickey decided to get his priorities in order. First he checked on Liam in his crib, the toddler seemed happy enough to just sit there and chew on his stuffed bunny that looked like it had gone a few rounds with basically everything in the neighbourhood.

"You good kid?" Mickey asked the baby.

He was met with a smile and a bunch of gurgles that made little sense, but he seemed content. Still, Mickey went to the kitchen to fill his non spill sippy cup with juice and turned the TV on for the kid. Some colourful cartoon with ninjas was on and Liam squealed happily.

Done, Mickey thought proudly.

Now for trouble.

He made his way upstairs, slower then he would ever like to admit to himself. However once he reached the top of the stairs he heard a familiar reaching sounds come from the bathroom.

"Gallagher!?" Mickey banged on the bathroom door loudly panicked. He hadn't even been left alone for 5 minutes and Lip had decided to die on him. Ian would kill him.

He heard a bit more reaching until it finally stopped and a very incredulous, hoarse voice asked, "Milkovich?" In disbelief. Or maybe it was distress, Mickey couldn't decipher between the two when it came to Lip.

"Yes its fucking me you dipshit open the door!" He yelled back, pissed off for no other good reason beside the fact that he was stuck babysitting a 20 year old. How is this his life?

“What?" Lip asked confused, "No, what the fuck go home,”

Mickey rolled his eyes, "No can do loser, I'm on babysitting duty today, open the door."

"I can look after Liam fine, go home or rob a bank or something. We're all good here," Mickey could hear the condescending tone the boy genius had managed to adopt even when he was sick.

He waited for another round of violent reaching to stop, flinching in sympathy when the sounds became desperate. Mickeys not sure he’s ever been that sick in his life. It really didn't sound particularly pleasant. Mickey almost felt bad for the guy, he was obviously feeling pretty sick and vulnerable, and if it’s something people around here didn’t do its feel like they can't look after themselves. He was very well versed in the feeling of incompetence, and asking for help or complaining was a no go in his house. He didn’t want to admit that him and Lip were probably quite similar, he would react similarly in his position. Still, Lip had always had Fiona and Ian when he wasn't well even if he didn't want them. And here Mickey was on his new found path of acceptance and kindness apparently, stupid fucking redhead.

 So Lip was going to have to suck it the fuck up, just like the rest of them and accept Mickeys help. Even it if physically pained him.

“I'm not babysitting Liam you shit head, you almost gave Fiona a heart attack this morning so don't give her any other reason than fucking her baby brother to cut my balls off,”

He heard Lip groan but he didn’t think it was from the illness.

Patiently (Mickey should get a fucking medal for that today) he waited until Lip opened the door, glaring daggers at him that had little effect with the bed head, sweats and hoddie he was wrapped up in. He shivered slightly and Mickey had to remove the physical urge that immediately wanted to keep him warm. Mickey didn’t cuddle.

Not sick non Ian Gallagher’s at least.

"I'm fine," Lip said as determinately as someone who was swaying slightly could and Mickey snorted.

“Right," Mickey said in disbelief, eye balling him up and down warily "How about you just get into bed, before you pass about maybe?”

Lip frowned, probably at the fact that Mickey wasn't being rude to him but actually sounded uncertain and slightly caring. He didn't need Mickey Milkovich here of all people to see him like this.

Lip trudged to his room determined, and shrugged Mickeys hand off his upper arm when the other boy thought he actually might fall.

Mickey held his hands up in surrender, but had to physically stop Lip from tripping over himself 4 seconds later. Fucking Gallagher.

"Will you just get the fuck in bed?" Mickey asked roughly, grabbing Lips arm and dragging him into bed before he fell again. This time Lip didn’t stop him, but crashed face first on his bed and gave Mickey the finger.

Mickey rolled his eyes again, leaning against the door frame and folding his arms, "Well done genius you've proved to me how wonderfully healthy and fine you are. Gonna climb mount Everett now tough guy?"

He heard Lip groan muffled by the pillows and he remained flipping Mickey off.

Mickey shifted nervously, "Do you want anything, you probably need water or toast or something, Ibuprofen?"

"Go fuck yourself,” Was the only reply he got.

Mickey rolled his eyes and headed down stairs, Mickey didn't want to be here as much as Lip didn't want him, but if he did nothing Ian would be disappointed and Fiona would be furious. And as much as he didn’t like being on the end of Fiona’s wrath, he hated disappointing Ian the most.

He found some lemonade in the fridge, and remembering from somewhere the bubbles are good when you puked poured that in a glass and made Lip some dry toast. He went through the medicine cabinet - sorely lacking thanks to Frank - and found some tablets that said they were good for vomiting, and they didn't look like they'd kill him so he decided Lip could take them without being charged for accidental homicide. Not that he hadn't thought about it of course, murder would make his life a lot simpler, besides all the fucking legal shit.

He better get a brilliant blow job from his domestic competency.

Checking on Liam quickly, who was still happily watching cartoons (why couldn’t lip be so content?) he brought the infected boy the toast.

"There," Mickey said setting the toast, tablets and drink by the bedside table. He looked expectantly down at the boy, who had successfully managed to cocoon himself in blankets that would rival even Ian’s blankets forts when he's having one of those days.

Lip just peered up at him from the blankets and glanced at the food, "Not hungry,"

“You have to try and eat something, or Fiona and Ian will have my nuts.”

"If I eat something I'll puke. Besides tell Fiona and Ian to fuck off," Lip said grumpily, turning his back to Mickey.

Mickey made rude and obscene gestures with his hands flapping them around for a moment in a frustrated nonsensical way before he composed himself, he was Mickey Milkovich. He could handle a sick Gallagher.

"Look, genius, I honestly don't really give a crap if you roll over from a fever or choke on your own vomit at this point because you’re a right pain in my ass. And not the good kind. But there is a household full of weirdos who live here that actually do give a damn. So do not give Ian a reason to do that stupid puppy dog frowny face at me he does when he's upset and do not give Fiona a reason to let Carl set me on fire because I had one job, keep your sick ass alive and in this house. Now try to eat the damn toast." Mickey said frustrated.

Ian turned around, still wrapped in blankets but gave Mickey a calculating, sceptical look. It was his smart look, as Ian often referred to it when Mickey rarely asked, he's I’m working you out because I'm a fuckin genius look. Mickey waited expectantly and didn't flatter under the gaze, because he was fucking Milkovich and had beat this kid to a fucking pulp before. He'd do it again if Ian wouldn't kill him.

"And if I don't?" Lip challenged, interested to see how far he could push said boy.

Mickey glared, "If you don't, I will personally make sure Fiona’s shift is covered tomorrow and that she stays home and looks after your sick ass herself. And I'll make sure she knows how much of a fucking baby you were today, maybe I'll even call Mandy. Sure she'd love to see this. Loves to look after sick, vulnerable people,"

That was a fucking lie, but Lip didn't need to know that. Mickey was taking a jump, but he guessed if Lip hated being as weak as Ian said, he'd probably agree to the terms. He could always punch him out either way, that would keep him in bed.

Lip glared but quickly sighed and sat up, eyeing the toast warily. He took small bites and avoided Mickey’s eyes while the boy stood above him unnervingly, arms crossed and glaring.

He took a few hesitant bites, enough to get the pills down and some soda. Then he looked up expectedly at Mickey, "Happy?"

"Over the fucking moon," Mickey replied sarcastically.

"Can I sleep now?" Lip asked harshly settling back down.

Mickey rolled his eyes, and made his way out, "You leave this bed other than to puke or piss, and I'll break your legs Gallagher."

Lip smirked slightly, he wondered if that was Mickey speak for “get well soon”.

The rest of the day Mickey stayed down stairs watching cartoons with Liam, and the younger was happy to sit contently fixated on the moving objects. He wished his own kid was this content.

Occasionally he checked on Lip, he had to make sure he was still breathing, Every time he was still in a restless sleep, sweating and either wrapped in blankets or thrown off ungraciously. Only to be retrieved again in a cocoon state. Mickey wouldn't admit he was actually worried, people got sick all the time. It was normal, right?

He had the urge to call people occasionally, Sheila, Vee, Kev, Fiona, Ian, Mandy, he even thought about Frank for godsake but he concluded that was probably not a smart idea. Not at all.

Sometime in the afternoon, when Mickey was contently watching TV with a dozing Liam on his lap, Mickey heard rustling and was surprised to find Lip treading down the stairs, comforter wrapped around him like a burrito.

"What the fuck Gallagher?" Mickey asked settling Liam to the side.

"Need more pills," Lip shrugged, heading to the kitchen Mickey hot on his heels swearing under his breath.

"What time is it?" Lip asked distracted as he popped the bottle open.

Mickey rolled his eyes, "You’re fine. As long as you don't overdose."

Lip smirked at him, taking the pills without water and walking back to the living room crashing on the couch face first.

Mickey rolled his eyes again, his eyes would be strained by the end of the day. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, because taking care of people was a fucking stressful job what the fuck, and settled himself on the other couch, turning up the volume of Ninja Turtles.

"Cartoons? Really?" Lip sniggered, settling himself more comfortably horizontally on the couch, blanket wrapped around him tightly.

Mickey would have been offended, had Lip not looked so damn pathetic. Instead he turned to Liam,

"Why don't you show your big brother how real big boys behave Liam? They sit and watch cartoons quietly instead of complaining all day and acting like babies because they have a tummy ache. You could teach him a lot squirt." Mickey smirked and Lip just laughed.

“Liam’s going to surpass us all, that’s inevitable.”

A lingering awkward silence hung in the air, Mickey tried not to let his mind wonder too often on just how much Liam would be affected in his later years by what had happened. Seemed like the rest of them did too.

Quietly they sat and watched cartoons, and Lip slowly started to drift in and out of sleep. Around the second episode he conked out completely and Mickey could hear his erratic breathing and soft snores.

It was interesting, Lip coming out here. Mickey smirked because Lip wasn't nearly as tough as he wanted to be, this was a desperate move even for him, but Mickey couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad for him. He could have stayed in his room all day and not be disturbed beside Mickey checking on him, and Fiona and Ian inevitably going in and out of his room to make sure he had everything when they came home. But that would be it, he'd be mostly undisturbed.

This however, this couch move was in desperation. People would be home soon, people comeing in crashing and banging and making all kinds of noise to see a very ill and pathetic Lip on the couch. He was lonely, looking for attention. While he would never, in a million years ask for any kind of help, risking showing weakness. That certainly didn't mean he wasn't immune to it. Lip was sick and by the looks of it just wanted someone to look after him. Not that he'd ever say that aloud. Lip had grown up not to ask for things, not to complain, his heath or ill heath really wasn’t the biggest problem they had. He could suck it up.

Sure Fiona would disagree, she tried her best to raise 5 kids and give them all the attention they deserved. But Lips smart, always has been. He's always known his sisters and brothers come before him, he didn't even mind. He preferred it that way. That’s why he would piss off whenever he thought he was getting sick. That was better than the alternative.

Unlike Mickey, Lip didn't have an Ian to tell him it was okay to be vulnerable and weak and have someone to take care of him or vice versa. Mickey was still learning at those kinds of things, he still preferred not to. But he wasn't dumb enough to not realise that he could trust Ian with everything one hundred percent.

While Lip did have Ian, in a different way to him, Lip didn't have that someone to tell him it was okay. He had a family who wanted nothing but to protect him while he was hell bent on making sure they never had to worry about him. The contrast was interesting, something Mickey had never really considered.

He went back to watching cartoons with Liam, when 30 minutes later Fiona came home. She finished her shift an hour early to try and get back to Lip, make sure him and Mickey hadn't killed each other. While she appreciated it and realised it was her only option, she didn’t think it was smart to leave the two of them alone.

She was surprised however, when he entered the disturbingly quiet home to find Lip wrapped up asleep on the couch, with Mickey and Liam watching over him, almost protectively. That was new. 

"Hey," She greeted hesitantly, setting her bag down near the door, "He asleep?" She asked bending down to Lip and gently as she could moved stray hairs from his face. He looked much younger like this, peaceful. Almost like he did when he was little, expect now he had permeant frown and worry lines all over his face. 

"Yea, passed out a while ago," Mickey dismissed. Maybe Mickey might have been able to keep up his noncommittal act if the worry on his face wasn’t easily readable. Fiona smirked. 

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him today, I didn’t want him to do another runner or fall over and die," She joked, still running fingers through his hair. 

Mickey shrugged, "He's a giant baby when his sick but he was fine. Ian mentioned he's taken off a couple times before?" He asked, trying not to be intrigued but failing. 

She sighed, "Used to think it was better to be on the streets alone then have me worry about him as well. For someone so smart he didn't seem to understand that I'd worry more when he wasn't here the big dork. Doesn't usually do that well having someone take care of him. Acts like a big tough guy but I know, big sisters always know." 

Mickey laughed, "Has he eaten? Taken medication? I picked up some stuff at the store," She said. 

"He's been puking a lot so hasn't been able to keep much down, didn't seem hungry. He's due for some more meds but you don't have much. I was gonna call a guy but..." Mickey trailed off. He did know a guy that could get him all kinds of medication for free cause he owed him, but he hadn’t felt comfortable feeding the guy random drugs he didn't know what would do, nor did he want to leave him here alone. 

Fiona smiled warmly, "Nah don't worry. Best to keep it legal anyway, I wonder if I can entice him with soup" She winked and Mickey made a face. Soup? 

She put her groceries away and within moments returned back to the ill boy, surprising Mickey instead of gently waking him up or even hitting him over the head like was expected, she wiggled her fingers on Lips exposed feet, tickling them until a groan was heard and he pulled them to his chest. 

"Stop," Lip groaned and pecked down to find Fiona grinning up at him, he flushed a bit when he realised Mickey was still in the room, smirking at him. 

"Gallagher tickle spot, or maybe just Lip tickle spot," She teased and he frowned, "How are you feeling?" 

She asked moving closer to the boy, holding his face in her hands and checking every inch of him. He tried to squirm out of her embrace but found he was trapped in his blankets and her death grip, "I'm fine Fiona seriously, just tired." He whined, while trying to be reassuring. 

Fiona didn’t seem to be listening though as she continued to check his temperature with her hands and then kiss his forehead, while still not letting go of him. 

Mickey couldn’t help but find the whole thing rather amusing, they weren't joking when they said Fiona was crazy. Lip seemed to be reconsidering his decision to come downstairs in the first place, because it seemed as she wasn’t going to let the boy go anywhere anytime soon. 

Bullshit if Mickey was letting genius boy go anywhere, this was way too amusing. 

Fiona nodded after some times, seeming finally satisfied with his health, "Alright you need to take some meds, but first food. I'm going to make chicken soup okay, stay." She said like one would a dog and Lip glared. 

"Fiona," He whined but when she turned around to glare at him he stopped.

Mickey smirked at Lip and he threw a pillow at him, amateur. 

"Thanks again Mickey for watching him, I know he can be a massive pain," Fiona teased calling out from the kitchen while she busied around making soup. 

"S'Alright," He said shrugging, Lip remained glaring on the couch. 

"I didn’t need a babysitter Fiona," He said but the statement became weak when he began coughing at the end. 

Fiona rolled her eyes and pointed her spoon accusingly at the boy, "Remember when you were 14, and you got that concussion because you feel off the playground?" She turned to mickey outraged, "He told me he'd be fine I could go back to work don’t worry about him, and I got a call from Kev two hours later from the ER because genius had passed out and they'd found him unconcious outside. The doctor said he would have been experiencing intense pain since the incident!" 

Mickey's eyebrows raised, he thinks he remembers that vaguely. 

"Okay, that was one time," Lip defended himself. 

"What about the time you left when you had a cold? And the Walkers found you under the bridge, you almost died from hypothermia," She continued going back to her soup. 

Lip at least had the decency to look guilty, "I'm fine!" 

"When you get sick, you don't get normal people sick you verge death. And you run away, you’re lucky I don’t cuff you to the bed. Or put a tracking device on you, that would solve a lot of my problems," She contemplated. 

Lip covered his face with his hands, sorely embarrassed, "Okay fine just please stop?" 

Mickey smirked taking a sip from his beer, "oh no please continue, this is awesome blackmail material." 

Fiona just laughed and Lip flipped him off. 

Mickey wondered if next time Ian was sick they could come here so Fiona could do her mom thing, and inevitably share embarrassing cute little Ian stories. That’s what he really wanted to hear, in a non-creepy way. 

Not that embarrassing Lip wasn't entertaining. Because it was, Mickey was immensely amused.

Fiona laughed from the kitchen, winking at Mickey who just grinned back at her. It was nice to be accepted.

He turned back to Lip who was a lovely shade of pink, trying to glare at his brothers boyfriend,

“That information doesn’t leave the house,” He stated staring firmly at Mickey.

Mickey gave him a shit eating grin, “Wouldn’t dream of it,”

Lip rolled his eyes but decided it wasn’t worth the fight, maybe he’d get Ian to make sure Mickey kept his mouth shut. Lip didn’t have too much of a reputation, but people generally knew not to fuck with him. He didn’t need a Milkovich screwing that up.

Lip laid back down on the couch, and Mickey went back to watching cartoons with Liam. Now they were added with the occasion input from Fiona who informed them that cartoons nowadays sucked, and trying to discreetly check Lips temperature by giving him a kiss on the forehead every time she passed the living room. It was the second time she did it where Lip glared and called her out on it, informing her that she wasn’t at all being inconspicuous he wasn’t an idiot. She just rolled her eyes, ruffled his hair and told him tough shit.

Ian was the next to return home, he grinned widely when he first spotted Mickey on the couch drinking a beer (a regular position for his boyfriend to be in really) and did a double take when he saw Lip napping on the couch.

“How you feeling Lip?” Ian asked squatting down in front of his big brother and resting the back of his hand on his forehead. Lip smacked it away with less heat than usual.

“I’m fine, I didn’t need your boyfriend to babysit me all day,” He glared.

Ian grinned sheepishly, “Well someone had to look after Liam anyway, it made sense that he kept an eye on you,”

Lip gave him a disbelieving look, because he really wasn’t that dumb but let it slide, “Whatever, I’m not going to roll over and die. Cant get rid of me that easily.” He joked, grabbing Ian by the neck and pulling him on the couch for some kind of weird hug/wrestle thing.

It looked dangerous and strenuous for someone who had been puking his guts out all morning.

Before Mickey could say something though Fiona came in waving her spoon around, “No rough housing! He’s sick!” She reprimanded Ian.

“He started it!” Ian complained, but wriggled his way out of Lips grip and sat on the couch next to him, resting his weight on his brother.

“I thought you two would eventually grow out of that,” She muttered clearly trying not to be amused and walked back to the kitchen.

Ian and Lip shared a knowing look, one that Mickey couldn’t decipher and burst into giggles. Mickey didn’t have relationships like that with his brothers, sure he looked out for them. But they didn’t ever wrestle for fun, for the object not to injure someone.

Ian turned to his boyfriend giving him a wide, slightly embarrassed smile. Mickey just chuckled, he liked seeing Ian happy, and if looking after his stupid sick brother meant he was. Well, Mickey could suck it up for a few hours.

Slowly the rest of the Gallagher clan came home and the house was loud and buzzing like usual again. Carl burst through the door claiming he’d almost burnt the school down today (which he was insanely proud of) and Debbie came home, heading straight for Lip giving him a bone crushing hug (apparently she was pretty worried he wouldn’t be there when she got home, that had made the older boy wince guiltily.)

Vee and Kev arrived sometime before dinner, Kev bursting into laughter upon seeing Lip surrounded by blankets and Ian hovering protectively close, “You look like shit man, you get hit by a car or something?”

Lip flipped him off, “No I’m fine.”

“He’s sick,” Ian supplied happily, as this seemed to set Vee off as she basically saw herself as a nurse.

“Why didn’t anyone call me? Oh my god are you okay? Your temperatures fine? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous?” She quickly rounded of questions and starting poking and prodding the older boy feeling glances and temperatures and all sorts of things Mickey didn’t understand.

Lip kept assuring her he was fine really, she didn’t need to check anything and even tried to make a run for it over the couch, unfortunately Kev was easily waiting for him and set him back down wrapping his arms around the boy in a bear hug to hold him still. 

“Sit still and let my wife get it out of her system, and I’ll let you go without this having to become seriously embarrassing, okay?” Kev teased and Lip struggled for a second before thinking better of it, and let Vee continue to poke him.  When she finally decided he was in fact, just sick with some stomach bug that would probably get much better throughout the night she left him alone.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me though,” She said huffy and flicked him on the ear before entering the kitchen with Fiona.

Lip rubbed his ear pitifully.

Later that night, Mickey climbed into bed graciously exhausted from the day even though he really had done nothing but sit on the couch and worry. Worrying really took it out on you he thought miserably.

Lip seemed to be doing better now and assured everyone he would be fine to go back to college in the morning, hoping he wasn’t too far behind for taking an entire day in bed. Fiona had looked sceptical but had allowed him to go to bed alone, without the baby monitor which Mickey knew she wanted to set up just in case. That would have been hilarious.

With one final bone crushing hug from his sister Lip had slipped off to bed about an hour ago, giving Mickey a small embarrassed smile.

Mickeys not going to confirm or deny whether he may have quickly pressed his ear to Lips door to in fact make sure he was asleep, and when he heard loud snores ran back to his own shared with Ian.


“You’re amazing you know that?” Ian’s voice could be heard entering the room and Mickey felt the bed dip and long arms wrap around his torso effectively trapping him as the little spoon. Not that Mickey minded.

“Shut up,” Mickey said with no heat behind it.

“No seriously, you hate my brother and he’s not easy to look after. But you did both, so thank you.” Ian murmured into his shoulder, holding him even tighter.

“Seriously don’t mention it. Like ever,” Mickey said in a desperate tone.

He could feel Ian smirk, “But what if seeing you all worried and domestic like that gets me hot?”

“Then you’ve got some fucked up fetishes Army,” Mickey said, but turned himself around despite that, launching himself up and onto Ian so he was no straddling him.

“You’re so hot,” Ian murmured leaning up for a kiss, “My kept man,”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “You’re a dead fucker,” He said and attacked Ian with his lips.

Yea, he could probably pretend to care about the Gallagher’s if it meant some really good sex.