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People whose soulmates had brown eyes were awfully lucky.
Of course, Ian had seen the beauty that rested in hazel eyes. He had understood the dept and the charm of them in his big sister's gaze, he had learned to associate it with motherhood and warmth. People whose soulmates had brown eyes weren't lucky in that sense, because they would never truly understand that until they met their soulmate. But, at least, they didn't miss out on a lot by never seeing the color of the dirt or the deck in their backyard. It was hard to miss a color such as brown, because even if the forests weren't complete, brown wasn't everywhere.
Blue was everywhere.
Or at least that's what Ian needed to believe when every time he looked up and saw the sky, who was supposed to be beautiful and majestic and blue, he saw grey. That was what made him hate this whole soulmates concept, the simple fact that every time he walked into a clothing store, most of the t shirts Lip would show him, praising how cool they looked, were grey to Ian's eyes. Hell, sometimes his own eyes were shades of blue and he would look in the mirror and see grey on his own face. People liked to wear blue during the summer, and they liked to wear blue during the winter, and all Ian ever saw everywhere, any season, was grey. Every single time someone would say ''Oh, my favorite color's blue'', well, that was the worst. Ian's jaw would tense and his good mood would be long gone, only because he wanted to know blue. He felt like it could be his favorite color, too.
Most people were desperate to meet The One. They were all more or less like his little sister Debbie, who could only ever talk about her excitement to meet someone she could feel really connected with. She didn't even seem to care that she couldn't see green, for her, it just meant her world wasn't complete. She believed it would finally be when she met Her One.
Ian thought that was complete bullshit. He couldn't care less about his ''soulmate'', his other half, his whatever. His world was complete, he didn't need a blue eyed boy to make him feel like a whole. Maybe he would have been a helpless romantic like Debbie or half the people on this planet if he wasn't so frustrated by the fact that because he hadn't met one guy yet, he couldn't see the damn color blue.
He couldn't wait to meet him only so he could see the blue in his eyes and finally understand.
___
He understood in the middle of Autumn.
Autumn was okay, it was better than Summer, because at least now everything around him was orange or brown or red. The colors of the trees could almost make him forget, and so during that heavenly season, Ian would take walks. He would walk in the parts of their neighborhood he knew well, around the homes of people he knew well, because it was too dangerous for his little self to go wandering in the south side alone. At least that's what Fiona always told him.
He passed in front of the Milkovich's house. He didn't know them well, but he knew who they were, and Ian had a knife deep in his coat pocket, just in case. Most of the time, if the place wasn't loud and screaming voices, it would be dead silent. But it wasn't the kind of loud and screaming voices Ian could hear outside of his own house sometimes, and it wasn't the same kind of dead silence either. It always seemed more... intense, sad and painful. Ian didn't know the Milkovichs, he had only ever met Mandy after all, but underneath the fear he could feel in his family's words about them, he could see they all felt bad for them. Ian caught a glimpse of their house and saw a boy sitting on the steps, breathing drags of his cigarette. Ian didn't know him, but he strangely felt bad for him. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to go ask him if something was wrong, but the seconds he took to walk pass the home were seconds he took to look at the guy. The half of his face Ian saw was beautiful.
Sadly, the guy didn't even lift his head, didn't even seem to notice someone was walking by. Maybe he took an habit of not taking care of his surroundings, Ian didn't know. But they didn't make eyes contact.
He found himself walking in front of the house a second time as he made his way back home, and the boy wasn't sitting on the stairs anymore. Ian was disappointed, and he hated himself for it. He stopped and thought maybe he could knock to see if Mandy was there. They weren't really friends but Ian could maybe tell her he didn't have anyone to smoke some weed with, whatever. She couldn't really say no to free weed.
He made his way up the stairs and tried to make himself believe he didn't want the sad guy to answer. He knocked three times and immediately put his hands into his jeans pockets, fondling with the insides of it. He'd never done something out of instinct so rapidly, he didn't even second guess his decision to go knock on the goddamn Milkovich's door. He was used to second guessing his every move, ROTC training making him believe every movement needed to be thought about thoughtfully, life itself being a strategy.
When the door finally opened, it was like his whole world had been a map made to bring him to this moment alone.
''What the fuck do you-'' The teenager stopped mid sentence when he had a look at Ian's eyes.
Ian couldn't speak, either. He felt like his jaw was hanging somewhere near the ground, but he wasn't aware enough to even know if his mouth was open or not. He must be looking terrible, but all Ian could care about was the pair of eyes in front of him.
They were blue.
Refreshing, deep, a color he could finally associate happiness with. Blue.
''Your eyes,'' Ian almost whispered. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else.
''Fuck,'' the other said as he pushed Ian away from the doorstep to have enough space to pass. He rapidly closed the door behind himself and started walking away from his home. Ian followed him ; he had no other choice. His mind wasn't really his anymore.
''Wait!'' He screamed, jogging his way beside him. ''Where are you going?''
It was weird that he didn't even take the time to look up at the sky.
''Away from my house and my family before they realize I can fucking see the weird shades of color your eyes are I couldn't see before you showed up at our door.''
Ian sighed but kept up his pace to stay beside him, the small man walking surprisingly fast for having shorter legs. He got a cigarette out of the pack he had in his back pocket with shaking fingers, letting it dangle between two knuckles before finally bringing it to his lips and setting fire to the end of it. Ian loved to watch him blow the smoke on the side of the road, and he would feel a lump in his throat every time he caught the tiniest bit of blue in the man's gaze. He could finally see blue.
''What's your name?'' Ian asked. ''You're gay, right? Or bisexual or something? Cause if you're not then this is totally the universe's way to tell me my life's a fucking joke.'' Ian suddenly couldn't stop talking. He shouldn't care about this person, he really shouldn't give a fuck. He should be running around the city without blinking so he could finally see what he missed out on all those years. He should be looking at the sky without ever putting his head down, he should go buy thousands of blue clothes. But he wasn't. He desperately wanted to know more about that Milkovich. And it fucked him up that he couldn't know what he was thinking. Was he happy? Nervous? Did he even find him attractive?
''Jesus fuck.'' He answered. ''The name's Mickey. And yes, your life's a fucking joke, because there's no way This'' Mickey pointed to the both of them with the hand he wasn't using to smoke,''is going anywhere.''
Ian now wished he had a cigarette, too. It was a shame that it wasn't really the time to ask for one.
''Well, I'm Ian, and what the fuck are you talking about this isn't going anywhere? Aren't we soulma-''
''Don't you fucking dare say that word. I will stab you to death.''
Mickey stopped walking when they found themselves in a children park that hadn't been used by actual children in ages. No one was there at the moment except for them, it was way too early for gangs of teenagers.
Ian wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He felt hysterical, because there was no fucking way he'd been paired up by God or whoever the fuck with that asshole. It just couldn't be real.
And Mickey refused to make eyes contact, as if that helped with anything. He was intensively staring at the horizon like it was the most important thing in the world. Ian was left with staring at half of Mickey's face in the same way.
''Can we talk about this?'' He asked softly, hoping they both could calm down if they took the time to talk and think about what all of it meant.
''There isn't shit to talk about. I'm not walking off into the sunset with you to live a gay happily ever after away from all those homophobic assholes. I'm gonna finish my cig and then we're forgetting about this. That's it.'' Mickey finally turned his head to give a look at Ian, his eyebrows raised up to his hairline. Ian noticed he didn't look too confident in his game face, and so he figured Mickey was as much taken aback from the color in Ian's eyes that he himself was by the blue in Mickey's. It was the second time they made eyes contact so far and Ian's heart (Jesus Christ) was again stuck in his throat.
''I know this is weird,'' Ian started. ''And I thought I would be in the same boat as you. I never thought I would care even the tiniest fucking bit. But I seriously don't want to leave on the promise that we'll never talk again.''
The silence feels heavy after Ian's words.
''I'm not asking you to fucking marry me right this second.'' He continues, desperately wanting Mickey to understand. The man was stubborn as fuck and so far in the closet he probably couldn't see the light. But at least he was gay, otherwise he would have said so sooner, and so Ian was relieved. That was that.
When he was younger, it had been hard for him to believe the world had someone picked out to be his already. He thought it was complete bullshit, he shared Lip's opinion on the fact that it was almost too good to be true. But it wasn't only that. It almost made dating anyone else completely useless, because what was the point of dating someone if you knew you weren't right for each other? And what if there was someone else out there who could be better for you, but you weren't taking the risk to be with them only based on the fact that you could see the color of their eyes all along? And Ian had done enough research on the internet about the LGBTQ+ community to know there was such a thing as being aromantic. Did those people have soulmates? Friend soulmates? Did 'soulmate' even need to be associate with a romantic relationship in the first place?
When he was younger, soulmates had been a thing hard to believe. But the second he started to believe it, he also started hating reality. He would have much rather preferred staying in the part of his mind that rationally thought it was all a lie.
But now there he was. Trying to talk a stranger into not leaving and never talking to him again, somehow knowing it would be a big mistake simply based on the fact that they could see a new color.
''You'll never let this go, huh?'' Mickey asked, tapping ashes to the ground.
Ian busted his chest like he was trying to make a point.
''No, I won't.''
Mickey dropped his cigarette butt to the ground and suddenly seemed to drop all the Tough Guy attitude he had built up with it.
''Okay,'' he said, defeated. '' But if you dare out me-''
It was now Ian's turn to interrupt him.
''I won't out you, I'm not fucking crazy, I know where we live.'' Ian smiled at the end of that, like their misery could be turned into a joke Mickey apparently couldn't laugh at, by the look of his face.
But thankfully Mickey only nodded, and Ian felt himself finally starting to relax.
He knew he had the biggest, idiotic smile on his face when he asked,
''Wanna go grab a beer?''
They started hanging out after that, at first with the excuse that Mickey needed help with his English class and the teacher had assigned Ian to help him out. Mickey would come over to the Gallagher house with a heavy backpack full of nothing and complain about the fact that all of it was utter bullshit before making his way up the stairs to Ian's bedroom. Ian would throw everyone out of the room, saying they needed to concentrate on their learning and shit. Lip was the only one who knew, Carl didn't care enough, Debbie wasn't involved and Fiona was too proud about the fact that they were doing school stuff to second guess anything. But eventually, the English thing wasn't good enough and Mickey started to freak out. Ian made him grab himself a job at the Kash and Grab and everything was fine again.
Now they were work buddies, and so it was socially acceptable for them to hang out a bit more. Mickey was very content with it, the good lies they told everyone making him feel safer and more comfortable with the whole situation. The whole situation being him and a very male Gallagher kid making out a lot.
Ian was content most of the time. He was definitely more than okay when his tongue was in Mickey's mouth, or when his dick was up his ass, but then he started wondering why they only ever did that. He thought having a soulmate meant they would feel some sort of deeper connection he could never have with anyone else. Of course, Ian felt connected to Mickey, he already cared too much about him. But sometimes it felt too much like the connection was a one way street.
Especially in times like today.
Ian had decided he wanted to wear a blue jacket today. The weather had started getting cold and colder by the days, Winter creeping up on them, and Ian felt like wearing a blue jacket. There wasn't really anything else to it, and of course Fiona asked him about it when he was about to go out the door, wondering why it didn't bother him that he couldn't see the color of that particular clothing, but Ian had only shrugged and that had been enough.
She didn't suddenly realize he could see blue and didn't start bombarding him with questions about his soulmate he apparently had met. And hell, as if she could have connected anything to Mickey even if she had realized he could see blue. But as soon as Ian showed up at work, Mickey lost all of his cool. He literally freaked.
''What the fuck are you doing, wearing a blue jacket like that? Are you insane? People will fucking notice. It's not really hard to connect the dots that you started hanging out with me, a guy with blue eyes, and then pouf, suddenly you're wearing blue.''
Ian sighed but removed the jacket nonetheless, not wanting to upset is non-boyfriend more, even if he was being a jerk.
''You're being a jerk,'' he stated. ''No one notices shit around here, we're all too caught up in our own little worlds and messes to give a shit about anyone's clothes, damn.''
''You don't know that,'' Mickey argued, walking around the store and touching random stuff, to distract himself probably.
''I do,'' Ian said, walking closer and taking him by the hips. No one was there, the store wasn't opened to the public yet (and even then on a good day they got like, 3 customers total). Kash wasn't there either, and they were behind a shelf. Ian knew that was the only reason why Mickey let him grab his hips and kiss him on the neck, and it hurt a bit, but still, it felt good to be close like that.
It didn't last long, though.
''Let go of me, Gallagher.'' Mickey said, and Ian wished he would have breathed the sentence in a way that meant ''Please don't.''. But of course Mickey hadn't, and Ian knew when to take Mickey seriously or not. He let go.
When Mickey turned around to face him, their eyes met, and Ian felt good and bad all over again. It was messed up, that one look into Mickey's eyes could make him feel like that. His eyes were so blue they were breathtaking, and Ian oddly wanted to kiss his eyelids. Mickey was good, he was beautiful and sad and strong and everything Ian needed. He was only too scared to let himself feel connected, and Ian believed he would have been happier if they had met in a world where they weren't soulmates. They could fuck and Ian would enjoy it without longing for something more. Or at least not so soon in their 'relationship'.
Yeah. Mickey blinked and moved on to do something else, on auto pilot maybe. It was obvious he didn't feel the need to kiss Ian's eyelids.
Ian sighed and turned the sign that announced to the world the Kash and Grab was now opened for business for the day.
He spent most of his time making useless small talk with Mickey and staring out the window while doing so. The sky stayed grey all day.
Mickey started opening up the day Ian punched him in the face.
In a normal, ''loving'' relationship, an outsider could say it was abuse. You just don't punch your partner in the face, even if you're two dudes, even if you're used to taking blows, even if it's only one time, even if you make up afterwards. And if someone took the time to ask him about it, Ian would say he regretted it. It wasn't his proudest moment.
Especially since he was drunk.
Ian usually was the happy kind of drunk. He was the guy who smiled for no goddamn reason and made toasts to people he didn't know. He was the guy who danced to every song and laughed at every joke. People loved him when he was drunk, and Ian loved Mickey when his blood was full of alcohol.
Fiona had thrown a party to celebrate the fact that she finally got herself a solid job, one she will be proud to have. Her and Jimmy, her soulmate, were also doing really good. Fiona was happy, and when a Gallagher was happy, it always meant party. Ian was happy for her, but he was much more relieved that his income now wouldn't be the only one to be steady, the pressure to make some money come home had been heavy on his shoulders for a while. Tonight was a night of celebration and freedom, in a way.
So Ian invited Mickey. Fiona had clearly said ''The more people, the better.'' and, the Milkovich boy was basically Ian's only friend. Nobody was surprised to see him there.
Of course Mickey didn't forget to remind everybody in a drunken cry that he was only here for the free booze every 5 minutes. Ian would roll his eyes so far in the back of his head it would hurt, and Lip would give him this apologetic look. As if it was his fault that his soulmate was an asshole.
At least it was comforting that his brother cared about him and whatever his feelings were, because Mickey apparently didn't. Mickey cared about his tongue and his dick and what other people thought. Mickey cared about survival and life and brutality. But Mickey didn't really care about Ian's happiness or his own and it was driving Ian mad.
''You okay there little bro?'' Lip asked him in between sips of cheap beer. Ian looked over at Mickey who was teaching Carl how to properly take a shot or whatever, and wondered. Was he okay?
''I never really wanted to meet my soulmate, you know.'' He didn't really answer the question, but Lip understood.
He nodded, and said,
''You could always break up with him.''
The problem was that there was nothing to break up with. They were nothing. Of course, the color blue was there, and Ian was so glad he didn't truly regret meeting Mickey. And not seeing Mickey anymore didn't mean the blue would fade away from his life along with his memories of him. It only meant he'd met who he was destined to meet and it didn't work out so well. It wouldn't be the end of the world.
Except it would.
Ian didn't give Lip an excuse of an answer this time, he only patted his brother on the shoulder and made his way over to Mickey. They both were extremely intoxicated, and Ian had not clue what he actually wanted to say. But he took his soulmate's arm and helped him up the stairs so they could have some privacy anyways.
He closed his thankfully unoccupied bedroom door behind them.
''Your whole family knows you're a fag, right? This doesn't look at all suspicious to you? I think it fucking does.'' Mickey obviously wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He was drunk and angry, and Ian wasn't happy and cheerful anymore.
He laughed and his right fist came up on his own to punch Mickey right in the jaw. His blood was now pumping and his heart was beating directly under the skin of his fist. No blood was shed, but they both hurt like a bitch.
''What the fuck, Gallagher?! You think because I let you suck my dick every once in a while you can just punch me?! That makes you special to me? It fucking does not.'' Mickey was rubbing the spot on his face that hurt the most with a look of pain, but was doing nothing to fight back. If there was one thing Ian knew is that Milkovichs always fight back, and so he was surprised when he didn't get punched back.
''We're soulmates, Mick.'' He was too drunk to remember Mickey hated that word. Usually, Ian believed he hated it too. But sometimes it sounded like the promise of coming home. ''You're special to me and I'm special to you. We're special. Just...'' He let all the air out of his lungs. He was starting to feel dizzy and disoriented, he couldn't imagine how Mickey was feeling after being punched in the face in his state. ''Just stop pretending, okay? I can finally see right through it and it's making me sick.''
Mickey dropped himself on Ian's bed in one motion.
''I didn't ask for this. I didn't fucking ask to be gay and I didn't ask for you. Why are you still here?''
Ian learned something new about Mickey : he was an honest kind of drunk. It probably only was because there was no more filter between his thoughts and his mouth.
Why are you still here? Why didn't you leave me already? You're too good for me. You should have gave up on me already. Ian could see right through Mickey now.
'' 'Cause you didn't kill me yet. I think that's a start.'' Making fun of the Milkovich family's reputation to lighten the mood maybe wasn't the best solution.
But Mickey laughed. He threw his head back and laughed like he was glowing. Ian laughed too, but only because Mickey was. It felt forced and fake but at least Mickey had opened up a bit and that was better than yesterday.
''Fuck you'' Mickey said, even if the harsh words held no bite. And now Ian was laughing for real. That was the effect Mickey had on him.
Ian could have made a joke about the fact that yes, he intended to fuck him indeed. But he kissed Mickey instead. He sat beside him on the bed and looked into his eyes, couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else.
When their lips touched, Ian knew why they were soulmates. It wasn't because they were a good fuck for each other. It wasn't because life itself was a bitch. It just... was.
Mandy knew about them by the time Christmas came around. The Milkovich younger siblings didn't have anywhere else to go to celebrate the holiday, they had all year to watch crappy tv with a drunk father getting drunker in the kitchen. Ian was over there about a week before the 24th, and he listened to Mandy complain about the whole thing coming up while Mickey was making them something to eat (he could be so domestic sometimes, Ian thought it was adorable).
''Like, I know south side kids don't have it easy anywhere. But for fuck sake, look at you Ian. Your whole family's worthy of a tv show. You could start your own Kardashian shit and everyone would watch the crap out of it. Like yes, there's drama and horrible stuff happening, but most of the time you guys are hilarious and you know how to fucking party.'' Mandy stated, and Ian had to agree she was mostly right.
He took a sip of his beer and only nodded, not wanting to put more gas on the fire that was Mandy Milkovich while the holidays came up. Because he could say they usually barely had enough on the table to feed everyone, and he could say that the last big holiday they had Monica slit her wrists in the kitchen. He could say a bunch of shit that would explain why he would much rather spent Christmas in a silent home with his boyfriend and his sister.
But he couldn't leave his family on Christmas, they would never forgive him for that. Family time was family time, Fiona repeated that enough when she glued everyone on the couch to watch movies at least once a week.
So he proposed the next best thing.
''You guys could come over,'' he said just in time for Mickey to hear as he walked into the living room. ''It'll be fun, as long as you bring something to feed yourselves and others. We're way too broke to just give you food.'' He laughed it off. It was easier to laugh it off.
''Yes!'' Mandy screamed as she jumped off the couch.
Mickey groaned and punched his sister on the arm,
''You know she was just waiting for you to propose that, right? It was a whole evil master plan, complaining about shit until you felt bad for our asses.'' Mickey directed at Ian, but still with a smile on his face.
Of course Ian knew that.
Mandy flipped her brother off,
''Fuck off. You're glad I did it, look at the smile you got on your face only at the idea of spending Christmas with your boyfriend.'' She emphasized on the last word, and it was like all the muscles in Mickey's body stopped working.
Ian's eyebrows arched up, too, because they definitely hadn't told Mandy yet. Of course the idea was always on the tip of Ian's tongue and on the front of his thoughts, because it would be way easier to sneak in and out or have the house to themselves more often if Mandy knew. The girl was always there.
So yeah. Ian had thought about it, he definitely had. But he never talked to Mickey about the idea, and he certainly never opened his mouth to tell Mandy the big news. It was a surprise to the both of them when she used the term boyfriend, but one look at Mickey and Ian knew the other boy was way more scared about the whole deal.
''Mandy,'' he said carefully, knowing Mickey couldn't say anything right now. If he was right, Mickey was thinking about running out the door and never coming back. ''What are you talking a-''
''Oh c'mon, you think I'm stupid? Terry's an idiot so of course he doesn't know, but Jesus, you guys are like eye fucking each other all the time.''
Mickey seemed to snap out of it at that point.
''Mandy, Mandy, shit. You can't tell anyone. Fuck. You can't.''
Ian watched as she threw her hands in the air,
''Of course I won't. But it's not like you guys are soulmates or anything.''
Silence.
Shit.
''Oh my fucking god. You guys are soulmates? Like, the whole fucking deal?''
Ian could only nod.
''Holy shit.''
Ian spent the night, and was holding a shaking Mickey in his arms as soon as they set foot in bed. It had been too much for him to handle, Ian could see that, even if his sister's reaction had been the best they could have hoped for. Maybe it made all of it too real, the simple fact that someone else knew about them. Ian loved that it made it real, but sadly, now Mickey was freaking out over every single thing. Were they really eye fucking each other all the time? If Mandy noticed, who did, too? Ian had flashbacks of the old Mickey, the one he only ever fucked and that was so in denial he couldn't bear touch Ian in any other way. The old Mickey who couldn't let himself be connected, and the one who needed to be certain no one else knew about it.
All that Ian could find to comfort him was that Mandy was just really close to the both of them and that she knew her shit. Maybe that had been enough, maybe it hadn't, but Mickey had finally managed to fall asleep when Ian whispered,
''We're safe.'' into his hair.
Ian kissed one of Mickey's eyelids before falling asleep, too.