Ian walked into the house, just as Mickey flipped on the TV. His four year old, Sophie, was playing in her room.
Ian had just gotten back from the mall, doing some early Christmas shopping.
When he saw Mickey, he grinned and threw him one of the bags he was carrying. "I know I was only supposed to get the stuff on your list for Sophie, but I couldn't resist. You'll love them."
Mickey looked at the bag and smirked. "Spencer's… is it kinky?"
Ian rolled his eyes, "They're for Sophie."
Mickey looked up at him sharply. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"They're t-shirts, Mick. Just look at them…"
Mickey pulled out the first child sized shirt. It was black. "I love my daddy and his tattoos," Mickey read out loud. He chuckled, "Real cute, Gallagher."
He pulled out the next one. "My dad is the shit." He nodded his head in approval.
He laughed as he read the third one, "I'm too fuckin' cute… is she even gonna be allowed to wear these to daycare?"
"Probably not," Ian shrugged.
As Mickey reached in to grab the last shirt, Ian suddenly remembered what that one said, and he snatched the bag back before it could be revealed. "Uh, actually I think I was gonna return the last one…"
"Why? What's it say?" Mickey asked, looking at him like he was crazy. Could the shirt really have been that bad?
"Nothing. It's stupid. You don't wanna know what it said." He was really regretting buying the last shirt.
"Was it one of those 'little bitch' shirts?" Mickey now desperately wanted to know what was on the shirt that was so offending. He stood up.
Ian actually took a step back, knowing what Mickey was going to try to do. "No, it was… it was just a dumb joke-I'm returning it anyway. Just forget-"
He wasn't quick enough as Mickey reached and grabbed the bag back. He tried pulling it back from Mickey's hands, but his own had become too clammy and sweaty to do anything.
Mickey just smirked in victory, and turned slightly away from Ian as he pulled out the shirt and read it.
His smirk quickly disappeared and he became silent. Ian stood behind him, heart racing, face reddening, and it had even become harder for him to swallow.
Mickey was staring at the shirt for what felt like forever, and Ian finally found his voice. "I know, it's stupid. I don't know why I even bought that one in the first place. I can just return it…"
Mickey didn't look at him, as he chewed on his lip. He then folded the shirt back up, and put it back in the bag. Ian was sure he was going to hand it to him, and agree that he should return it, but then he grabbed the rest of the shirts and put them in the bag too.
He handed the bag back to Ian, without really looking at him, and said, "They're good, man. Hide them with the other Christmas shit," and walked into the kitchen.
The shirt that read "My two dads can kick your dad's ass," wasn't brought up the rest of the evening.
Not that they would've been able to talk about the shirts when Sophie was around, as they had dinner.
Ian didn't even bring it up after Sophie had gone to bed and they were just watching some crappy TV show.
Later on that night, however, as they were both lying in bed, Ian had to say something. He looked at Mickey, who was on his side, facing the other way. "So… you didn't think that last shirt was weird…?"
"No." Mickey deadpanned. It was clear he didn't want to talk about it.
Ian couldn't stop himself. "I just… I mean, I know I'm not her dad… just thought it was funny…"
"Ian, shut up," Mickey groaned. After a moment he sighed and rolled over. "You are, okay? You are Sophie's dad-second dad. And she's your daughter… so the shirt's fine. Now go, the fuck, to sleep." He rolled back over.
Ian was silent. He could barely move. He didn't want to make a big deal out of what Mickey had just said to him, but it was a big deal. Even though he'd been living with Mickey and Sophie for a little over a year now, they'd never really talked about Ian's relationship with Sophie. Mickey had finally admitted to being Ian's boyfriend, for the first time when they moved in, but they never really talked about what it meant for Sophie.
Ian rolled over and wrapped an arm around Mickey's waist.
"That wasn't an invitation, Gallagher," Mickey grumbled.
Ian just grinned. "I love you," he said for the fifth time in about two years, as he kissed Mickey's shoulder.
"Whatever," Mickey mumbled, as he grabbed Ian's hand and intertwined their fingers.