A/N: This is a follow-up/prequel to "Good Parenting" which I'd written for Gallavich Week. I'm going to expand on the series and add a lot of domestic!Gallavich fics to it. Feel free to leave me prompts/requests either here or on tumblr (tumblr. magneticdice. com without the spaces).
Memories in the Walls
When Ian finished with the army, he went home to visit his siblings. He'd made his apologies years ago, through letters and phone calls and the like, but they had not kept in touch. The only person he'd actually communicated with once in a while had been Mandy, and even that had stopped during his last tour. Ian knocked on the Gallaghers' front door apprehensively the night he returned to Chicago. They were glad to see him, sans resentment, which was a relief.
He waited one whole day before going to see Mickey. Four years had already passed... what difference would one more day make?
Ian went to the Milkovich house, despite his nerves. He felt like a teenager again. He remembered the time he'd gone there to get Kash's gun back from Mickey and smiled at the memory. He surely hadn't expected that outcome. Mickey opened the door and he looked so damn good... It took everything Ian had in him to not jump the man that stood before him. It wasn't until that moment that Ian admitted to himself just how much he'd really missed the guy. He didn't want to seem too eager, so he asked for Mandy, not knowing that she lived in Detroit now.
Even though his sister wasn't there anymore, Mickey invited Ian in. That was a good sign, right? Maybe Mickey had missed him too? Ian could hope... The thing was, they hadn't spoken since Ian left to enlist. He didn't know what Mickey was feeling; he had no fucking clue what was going to happen.
Ian walked in but waited just inside the doorway. Mickey went into the kitchen, took two beers out from the fridge and walked to the living room.
"Are you just gonna stand there?"
Ian shook his head and walked into the living room carefully. Mickey sat on the couch that was facing the TV. It was the same couch Ian had had to watch Svetlana and Mickey fuck each other on. The redhead sat and took the beer from Mickey's outstretched hand. His gaze fell to the seat opposite them—the one he'd been on when Terry had punched him on that awful morning. God, nothing had changed in this room. It looked exactly the fucking same as it had four years ago.
"So, when'd you get back?" Mickey asked him.
Ian realized he'd been staring at the couch like an idiot. He turned to face Mickey. "I got back yesterday. Stopped at home to say hi to everyone. They've changed so much..."
"Four years'll do that..." Mickey muttered.
"I know," Ian said quietly, more to himself than as an answer to Mickey.
So, it looked like Mickey was still angry... at least based on that comment. They were silent long enough for Ian to finish his beer. It was Mickey who spoke first.
"I'm glad you didn't get your ass shot off..."
Ian smiled. It was the closest thing he'd get to a 'welcome back' from Mickey. "Yeah..."
Mickey got up and brought Ian another beer. "Things changed here, too."
"Oh?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow. Everything looked the same to him... unfortunately...
"Yeah. Lana's been gone for over two years now. My dad got thrown back in prison not long after she bounced, and Mandy left a couple months ago." Mickey cleared his throat. "I got my GED. I'm a mechanic now. Well, I'm still apprenticing, but I think I'll get into the union soon," he clarified.
"Wow, Mick. That's really great."
Mickey looked at Ian with a doubtful expression. It was obvious that he thought Ian was only saying that out of kindness, but that wasn't the case. Ian was really proud of Mickey. He'd always known Mickey had the potential to do something better with his life.
"Remember that night at the dugouts, after you got out of Juvie the first time?" Mickey nodded. "You told me you were 'fucked for life', but I knew you were wrong. I wish you could have seen yourself now."
Maybe things would have panned out differently... Ian thought.
Mickey shrugged. "That was a good night, wasn't it?" Mickey mused after a while.
Ian couldn't help but smile again. "Definitely was... Maybe we should go back sometime," Ian joked. God, why was he being so forward? He didn't know what had gotten into him...
Mickey snorted. "I got a house now, Firecrotch. Ain't no reason why we can't just fuck in my bed," he said with a lascivious grin. He put his beer down on the coffee table and moved closer to Ian.
The atmosphere in the room did a complete 180. Ian's heart was pounding in his chest. They clearly still wanted each other. Ian hadn't just imagined the electricity he'd felt upon seeing the Milkovich open his door just twenty minutes ago. He put his bottle down too and looked at Mickey's eyes as they leaned towards each other. He tried to pretend he wasn't scared about what was about to happen... that he hadn't been thinking about how this moment would go ever since he decided not to re-enlist...
"Daddy, I'm hungry!"
The little voice came from Mandy's room. Ian whipped his head around in surprise.
"Holy shit, Mick. She actually had the kid?"
Ian looked at Mickey and could swear that the older man was blushing. He quickly got up and walked towards the voice; Ian just stared at him as he moved further away. When Mickey returned, he had a small kid in tow, who was holding his hand with tiny fingers and half hiding behind his father's legs.
"Dimitri, this is Daddy's old friend Ian. Can you say hi?"
"But Daddy, you don't have any friends," Dimitri said, matter-of-factly.
"Say hi," Mickey said, voice more firm.
"Hi..." The little boy had to force it out of himself, as if it went against his nature to be social. He immediately turned away from Ian before the redhead had a chance to say hello in return. "I'm still hungry, daddy. Can we eat?"
Mickey nodded. "Whattya want, punk?"
Dimitri scrunched his face up, deep in thought, and then smiled when an idea came into his head. "Pizza bagels!"
"Okay, kid. Why don't you go play in your room and I'll call you when they're ready?" Dimitri grabbed a small action figure off the floor and ran back into his room smiling. Ian hadn't notice the many toys haphazardly tossed about the room... He'd been to caught up in memories of the past, and then Mickey had distracted him. Mickey, who was now a father...
"He looks just like you..."
Mickey nodded carefully. "Yeah. I know." He took a deep breath. It was awkward. Mickey was still standing, and Ian had to look up at Mickey as he spoke. "He's three and a half. Before Mandy left, she got him a box full of books, and he's been making me teach him how to read them. Can you believe that? Kid's not even in Kindergarten yet and he already knows his letters and shit... He can read the smaller words without help and he's started sounding the other ones out."
Ian could see the pride Mickey had for his son, plain as day.
"You want some pizza bagels too?" Mickey asked.
'Uh, sure..."
Ian frowned as Mickey went to the freezer and pulled out the box, preheated the oven and laid the pizza bagels on a cookie sheet lined with aluminum foil. Seeing Mickey holding the tray reminding him of the night Mickey had invited Ian to stay over his place and they had had their first "date" or whatever... but this wasn't the time to think about that. Not when the thoughts that followed always led to what had happened the following morning.
Mickey sat back down on the couch, but their earlier moment had been ruined. The awkwardness had returned.
"So... how long are you here for?" Ian could tell it was taking a lot of effort on Mickey's part for him to ask that. He had a feeling it was because the question sounded too hopeful—as if Mickey actually cared.
"I'm not going back... This is it."
Mickey nodded, still playing it cool.
Ian had waited long enough... "Look Mick, I'm—"
"I'm sorry," Mickey said, cutting Ian off.
"You're sorry?" Ian asked, surprised.
"I shouldn't have let you leave."
Ian felt his stomach flip. It was like when you go to the fair and you're on that boat ride that swings back and forth, when you sit in the back row, and your insides feel like they're still moving up even though gravity is already pulling you back down.
Was Mickey was finally being honest with him? They'd both grown up... Maybe becoming a father had forced Mickey to express himself more? It made sense...
"Why did you?" Ian croaked. If Mickey was talking, Ian wanted to know the answer to the question he'd wondered about ever since he got onto that bus... the question that had kept him up at nights for weeks on end, in the barracks during basic training and countless nights while he was deployed, when all he could hear was the wind blowing in the desert and the sharp, stinging sound of gunfire in the distance.
Mickey shrugged. "I wasn't ready. Fuck, with everything that had happened with my dad and Lana... I just couldn't. I mean, I sure as hell didn't want you to go, but saying so would have involved admitting more than I was ready to."
Ian opened his mouth to respond when there was a chime from the kitchen. The oven was finished preheating. Mickey grabbed the empties off the coffee table and laid them in the sink. He put the cookie sheet into the oven and set the timer. He brought two more bottles of beer with him when he returned to the couch.
The distraction had given Ian time to think about what he said next. He twisted off the bottle cap and took a sip.
"Are you ready now?" he asked Mickey with a voice so low he couldn't be sure Mickey had even heard him.
Ian was terrified of the answer he'd get as he looked up at Mickey. He saw his own fear reflected in Mickey's eyes, and he knew the brunette had heard him. They were both fucking scared, but this felt to Ian like the moment that everything hinged on: Mickey's next words would determine the course of his life... of both their lives... but instead of answering him, Mickey set the bottle down and got up from the couch.
Of course he wasn't ready, Ian thought. Why had he been so fucking stupid? Why had he thought anything could have changed? Mickey was the same as he'd always been: in the closet and afraid to admit his feelings. Ian didn't matter to him—had probably never mattered to him. Ian wished he hadn't come back to the Milkovich house. All the fucking horrible memories it had stirred up were spinning in his head. He'd never wanted to leave so badly. He tried to get up but to his surprise, Mickey pushed him back into the couch. The older boy put one knee on either side of Ian's thighs and straddled the redhead.
"You're not going anywhere," Mickey ordered, before he pressed their lips together with such ferocity that it made Ian forget where he was and what he was doing. His arms instinctively reached up to press against Mickey's back and pull their bodies closer together. A groan escaped from Ian's lips, and in response, Mickey put one hand on the back of Ian's neck and held him so that Ian couldn't move away or break the kiss even if he'd wanted to... not that he wanted to. He never wanted to. He'd be content to stay connected with Mickey like this forever.
Ian ran his tongue along Mickey's lips and pushed it into his mouth as soon as they parted. Mickey's mouth was warm and tasted like beer and cigarettes. They had only kissed a few times before Ian had left, and none had been quite like this. There was so much emotion in the kiss that Mickey didn't need to tell Ian he was ready now... Ian just knew.
Mickey let go of Ian long enough to tear off his shirt. Ian looked at the man before him, straddling his lap. Mickey's body was paler than it had been, if that was even possible, but he was still as in shape as ever. Apparently fatherhood hadn't kept him from lifting weights. Ian licked his lips as he gently ran his fingers over Mickey's skin. It was so soft under his touch. They'd never been this intimate before. He could feel his erection growing with every passing second. Mickey leaned forward and kissed Ian again, this time biting the redhead's lower lip playfully.
They grinded against one another while they made out. "We should have done this more often," Mickey sighed against Ian while the redhead kissed his neck. "Made out, I mean..."
"Mhmm," Ian moaned in agreement. "Whose fault was that?" Ian teased, but didn't give Mickey any time to answer before pressing their lips together again. They lost themselves in each other, in that moment, tongues playing back and forth...
Then the oven chimed again. The pizza rolls were ready. Mickey grunted in annoyance and got up. He rearranged himself as he stood, and Ian grinned, knowing he was the cause of Mickey's discomfort. He had to admit he was disappointed when Mickey put his shirt back on, the moment obviously being over, again.
Mickey knocked on Mandy's door. "Food's ready! Go wash your hands!"
Ian heard Dimitri run from his room into Mickey's, followed by the sound of running water.
"Hey Gallagher, wanna help?"
Ian got up and made his way to the kitchen. Mickey stood in front of the oven, holding the tray of pizza bagels with oven mitts on. He put the tray down onto the stovetop.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
"Get some plates out from the cabinet."
Ian opened the one Mickey had gestured to with his head and took out three plates. They were all mismatched and scratched up. One was even partially cracked and missing a chunk from the edge. He passed the plates to Mickey, who used a spatula to get the pizza bagels off the tray and onto them.
Dimitri came running into the kitchen. Ian hid a smile as he realized how eager the kid was. He must have really liked pizza. Dimitri took the plate Mickey held out to him and made his way towards the living room.
Ian looked at Mickey in surprise. "You don't eat at the table?"
Mickey scowled at him and shook his head.
"Come on, Mick. You can't let a kid eat in front of the TV like that... He's gonna turn into a lazy bum! It's supposed to be family time, you know? Bonding and shit..."
Ian stared Mickey down until the older boy gave up and looked away. "Dimitri!" he called. "Come back here. We're gonna eat at the table."
His son obediently marched to the table and set his plate down, but was too short to make it up onto the chair without help. He looked at his dad expectantly but Ian was the one to give him the much needed lift, since Mickey was busy plating the rest of the pizza bagels. Mickey then gestured at yet another cabinet that was full of glasses. Ian grabbed two and a plastic cup for Dimitri. Mickey poured them all some Pepsi before sitting.
The three of them sat and ate dinner together. Ian asked Dimitri a lot of questions about his friends, which books he liked and what games he liked to play. He was a little thrown off by Dimitri's constant mentioning of someone named Grace. "Who's Grace?" Ian asked, more to Mickey than Dimitri.
"Grace picks him up from daycare and watches him until I finish work."
When they finished eating, Mickey told Dimitri it was time for him to shower. The boy ran into his room and grabbed some toys, then made his way to the bathroom.
"Will you hang around for a bit?" Mickey asked, biting his lower lip.
Ian nodded. He busied himself with washing the dishes while Mickey bathed his son and then got him dressed for bed. Ian listened as Mickey read a bedtime story to Dimitri, then smiled when Mickey left the door open a few inches.
"Is he afraid of the dark? Or are you just worried about him?" he asked.
Mickey visibly reddened. "Maybe a little bit of both..."
Ian let out a small laugh. It was cute, seeing Mickey as a real parent. From what he could see in the short time he'd been there, Dimitri was well mannered and happy. Mickey was doing a good job.
Ian felt somewhat awkward just standing in the kitchen. He was about to suggest that he leave and come back another day when Mickey spoke again.
"Let's go to my room."
Ian grinned. Now that was something he wanted to do.