Title: That's Why
Pairing/Characters: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~550
Summary: "He laid there, taking every hit, every punch because he knew that this was what Mickey needed."
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything.
Author's Notes: Just a little drabble I wrote after watching the 3x09 promo. Unbeta'd.
"You love me, and you're gay." Ian knew he shouldn't have said it. Knew that it was only going to piss Mickey off more. But he wanted to. He needed to. He needed Mickey to see that the words were true. That he did love Ian. That he was gay.
The initial look Mickey gave him after the words are said, as they hang there in the air between them, confirmed it for Ian. It was a look of shock and awe, probably because Mickey wouldn't have thought he'd be brave enough to say something like that to his face, but there was something more. There was this emotion, this realization, as if in that very moment Mickey had realized that the words were true. He looked like he was bulled over, as if he was hit by an oncoming train.
The look was gone as soon as it had appeared, replaced by anger. Mickey snarled and then was leaning over Ian giving a hard right hook to Ian's face before Ian even knew what hit him. Ian fell the rest of the way to ground, landing on his back with Mickey straddling him as his fists connected with Ian's stomach over and over. It was a total blur. And it hurt. It hurt like hell. Every impact, every blow, he could feel the searing pain clear through his body. But he didn't fight back. He didn't try to stop him. He laid there, taking every hit, every punch because he knew that this was what Mickey needed.
It was sometime after he'd lost count of the punches that his head started spinning and the thought popped into his mind: Why? Why did he put up this shit? Why didn't he leave him? Put Mickey behind him and move on?
As sudden as the punches had started, they stopped and Ian groggily looked up at Mickey who was still straddling him. He could feel the blood trickling down the side of his face from a cut above his eye. His whole body ached and he knew that he'd have trouble moving for a couple of days, knew he'd see bruises already appearing on his stomach and chest.
The look Mickey gave him was completely different than any he'd ever given him before. It was full of hurt, pain, anger, and sorrow. He looked exhausted and beaten, as if he'd been the one getting the shit kicked out of and not the shit kicker. He was breathing heavily and made no move to get up or move away from Ian.
Ian was still trying to decipher the look Mickey had in his eyes when Mickey leaned forward, grabbing both sides of his face, and kissed him. It was gentle and sweet, the exact opposite of everything Mickey was. It was soft, a barely there kiss, but it made Ian feel like his whole body was on fire. He no longer felt the bruising on his stomach or the pain of the cut above his eye. He felt like he was floating in the heavens, where no one and nothing could touch him. That feeling, he was sure nothing could ever ruin it. And in that moment, Ian thought to himself: That's why.