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“He's out like a light.” Ian yawns, as he steps into their apartment bedroom, he twists his back to crack the tension. “How can a two-year old have so much fucking energy?” He slips off his shirt and notices Mickey laid, flat, staring up at the ceiling blankly.
“Hm.” Is all he gets in a result. Mickey taps his fingers against his chest, drumming them to the beat of his mind, which was intensely rapid.
Ian tilts his head, shrugging. “Fine, I'll talk to myself. You want to cuddle the shit out of me? Oh yes, that would be great after chasing our two year old around the house all day. Owen? Oh boy, I'll make sure you can sleep tomorrow-”
“Fuck off, Gallagher.” Mickey interrupts Ian's rambled impression. “I'm just, uh, thinking.”
Ian falls against the bed, his face darting to the side with a smirk. “Mickey Milkovich thinking, never thought I'd see the day.” His smile drops once he sees Mickey's facial expression is serious, in the silence he can tell that this was serious – what was the other man thinking? That's when millions of scenarios fell into his head. “Mickey...what is it? It must be fucking serious if you ain't snapping at my incredulous attempts at humour.”
Mickey had been thinking about it for some time now; each time he laid eyes on Ian and Owen he sure it. It being his heart wanting to explode at the sheer sight of it, he felt himself quiver with what he knew was love and he wanted to feel that all over again. Like some drug he couldn't get over. Turning onto his side, he avoids looking into Ian's eyes. “I want another kid.”
“Wha-what?” Ian manages to stutter out in the midst of his gasp. Mickey had never brought it up before, he had never thought about giving Owen another person to be there. How come Mickey hadn't said something before?
Mickey flips to his stomach, resting against his forearms. “Just think about it, you fucking love babies, and it gives Owen someone to play with – I know, Its fucked up, forget anything I said.” He feels like a dick, like a pussy, like he shouldn't have said anything at all because Ian's looking at him weird now.
Ian grabs Mickey around the waist before he can turn away. “Why do you another kid so much?” He asks, eyes slightly watering from what Mickey could see. Even through the dark he could tell Ian was still a fucking dork. Mickey sighs, rubbing at his eyes, he forgot he would have to explain himself. “I just, uh, I wanted us to be a family, you know – and I wouldn't mind-”
“Wouldn't mind what?” Ian buts in, a gleam against his face like a light bulb.
“I wouldn't mind having a little girl whose boyfriends I could beat the shit out of.” Mickey laughs into his pillow, blushing at the fact that maybe, yeah, he fucking loved being a dad. Ian's eyes widen, his smile growing bigger. “You really want another kid?” He asks, as if he hadn't heard Mickey right the first time.
Mickey rolls his eyes, resting his chin against Ian's chest. “Would I have fucking said it, if I didn't?” Ian runs his hand through the black, smack, hair messed up against Mickey's scalp. “It's a big step though, right?”
“Gallagher, we already have a kid, we've already made that fucking step – it's just kinda, getting higher.” He points his eyebrow, trailing his fingers along Ian's skin. “Is that a yes?” He pleads with his eyes, he has no idea why he wants another baby so bad, he just does.
“I ain't fucking complaining, really. If it looks like you I'm not really against the idea.” Ian nods to himself, grinning a little too wildly.
Mickey corrects him. “ She, If she looks like me.”
“You do know you can't just choose a babies sex, right?” Ian laughs, hand falling down to Mickey's ear lobe.
Mickey slaps his chest, of course he knew how the baby thing worked. “I can do what the fuck I want, Gallagher.” Ian scoffs, nodding in agreement as the older boy laid his head back down. “I think we've established that.” Mickey gives everything he's got just to put up his middle finger.
---
“Owen, you be a good boy for Aunt Fi, alright – don't throw this around like last time, took Debs hours to get it out of her hair.” Ian is crouched down towards their little boy, they are stood outside the Gallagher house, Owen is holding a pot of weird goo, Liam had happened to give him, his redhead styled upright a little.
“Okay-y Daddy.” Owen giggles, smacking Ian's face a lightly. Over the past couple of months, Owen had developed fast. In the space of a couple of weeks of crawling, he was already climbing to his feet and walking around. Before they knew it he was actually processing words and Ian had warned Mickey about swearing, but seriously – the boy copied anything. “Bye Papa!” He shouts, as he runs through the Gallagher house, his little voice screaming out to the other Gallagher’s still living at the house.
Mickey, however, was finding it hard to contain himself; Horny, Hot and fucking bothered, he really needed to get home now. Seeing Ian being sentimental, and that whole dad mode persona gave him something that he wasn't exactly sure of. What he was sure of was that he needed Ian to bring him home, right there, right then, before he pounced on the porch steps of the house.
As soon as they break through their apartment, clothes are already ripping off. “Get this fucking thing off.” Ian pulls at Mickey's jacket, grabbing the black material and shedding it off Mickey's body. The brunette groans as his back hits the wall, his hands clawing at the shirt hiding Ian's chest. Latching their lips together, Ian pushes Mickey further into the wall.
“ Fuck- Just get in me.” Mickey pleads, his heel curling around Ian's leg, pushing into his ass, driving the redhead further against him. Ian sucks against the skin of his neck, discarding Mickey's generous pleads. “What do you want, Mick?”
Mickey's panting like a bitch, his hands pulling against Ian to get him to move against his crotch. “I fucking wan- I need you to get in me-” He unbuckles Ian's pants and pushes his hands underneath the fabric of his boxers, Ian gasps and holds himself up against the wall with a firm hand behind Mickey's head. Mickey leans forward, hand pumping against Ian. “I need you to fill me up.”
Ian feels his cock twitch in Mickey's hand, they never spoke like this, but fuck – they needed to do it more. “Fill you up? You want to be full of my cum?” He presses himself into Mickey, biting against the skin of Mickey's chin; his worst sensitive spot. “You want me inside you?”
“God, yes- fuck Yes.” Mickey gasps, letting Ian's hand grip against his sweats and pull them from under him. The redhead pins him against the wall, lips attacking Mickey's harshly, he sucks against Mickey's bottom lip, pulling it out as he positions himself in line with Mickey. The brunette wraps his legs around Ian's waist, gasping heartedly as Ian spits against his head before pushing into him. They both groan through the sudden feeling; feeling suddenly like teenagers again. “Tell me what you want, Mick.” Ian nibbles against his ear.
Mickey rolls his eyes, Ian already knew what he wanted. “I – fuck – I want you just fi-ll me, I want you to knock-k me up, ah.” Mickey manages to get out, his hands clawing against Ian's bare back, blood running underneath his nails. Ian moans at each thrust, his hands firmly holding Mickey up against the wall. “fuck- harder, Ian.”
Ian nearly buckles at Mickeys whimpers,he feels himself tingle from the inside out. Even in the heat of the moment he could still feel his chest clench at the thought of Mickey wanting another kid. Ian shifts him higher against him, his position able enough to give Mickey wants, he steadies his legs and starts to pound into Mickey, making sure that he didn't pull out when they both felt the release creep up on them.
---
A couple of weeks later, Ian barges through the front door, Owen under his arm. “Mick?” He calls out, letting the redheaded two-year old to the floor, where he quickly scurried off, as he searches around the apartment. “Hey, Mickey?” He knew Mickey was there, he had literally just had a text off him saying he was going to make pancakes.
“Oi, dipshit-” He kicks the bathroom door open, wincing at the sight of his boyfriend curled around the toilet seat, his head inside of the bowl, spilling out his contents. “Oh, fuck.” He curses, he kneels down to rub at Mickey's back, but the brunette pushes him off and heaved over. With a shaky hand he points upwards towards the sink, Ian – confused – steps up with worry, he leans over and his eyes are latched to a stick wallowing in the pit of the sink.
Slowly, knowing what this was – after all the times he'd seen Fiona having a few scares – he takes the stick. The positive sign is clear as day, sticking out to him making his heart beat faster than he knew it should. “Holy fucking shit.” He mutters, hand bringing up to his face.
“Yeah- Holy fucking shi-” Mickey tries to repeat before another load of internal guts pours out of his stomach. How did Ian not see it? The hormones, the sickness? The pure craving Mickey suddenly had for pickles and cheese? “Be careful what you wish for, ay?” Mickey whispers, rubbing his head against the seat of the toilet.
Ian can't speak. Mickey was pregnant, again, they were having another baby. Shit. “It ain't a bad wish, fuck – I can't wait.” He slides down the wall of the bathroom and kicks his legs around Mickey's, bringing him closer.
“You've gotta let me go before I puke all over you, man.” Mickey shoves against Ian's chest, grimacing at the taste formed in his mouth.
Ian stares down at the signal of his and Mickey's creation, in his hand, he smiles, knowing that yeah, they were a family. “It's not the first time.”