Sit on My Lap
They'd been standing on line at the mall for over half an hour already, and Mickey was bored out of his mind.
"Come on Gallagher. Admit it: the only reason we're here is because you have a thing for old guys," Mickey mocked.
Ian shoved at his shoulder and Mickey might have fallen if he hadn't caught a hold of one of those gold posts that formed the queue barrier. Mickey laughed, knowing from Ian's reaction that he'd struck a chord.
"I do not. You're just being bitter because I won the bet and you lost," Ian said, face smug.
Mickey stopped laughing and his expression changed to a scowl. "Of course I am. You think I'd be here willingly?"
Ian grinned back at him. "Nope! That's why it's so great. Now stop being such a dick and move forward," Ian said, pointing in the direction of the line. A gap had formed between them and the family ahead of them.
Mickey crossed his arms but moved forward anyway.
It took another twenty minutes for them to pass through the maze of giant candy canes, nutcrackers and decorated trees that lined the queue, obviously set up to distract parents and children from the fact that they'd been waiting on line for almost an hour. Trains whizzed by around them and there was Christmas music blaring from hidden speakers. Mickey was miserable.
Finally, their turn was next. A girl dressed in an elf costume walked over to them.
"Where are your kids?" she asked Ian, confused.
"Oh, it's just us," he answered with a grin.
The elf recovered quickly and plastered a fake smile onto her face. "Right this way," she said, leading them towards the fake fireplace. There was a soft, padded armchair set up in front of it, and an old man in a Santa suit was seated in it. The whole scene looked like it came straight out of a Hallmark movie. "Which one of you is sitting on Santa's lap?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Mickey is," Ian said, pointing at the older boy. "I'll stand behind them, if that's okay?"
The girl nodded and busied herself with changing the height of the tripod that the camera stood on.
"I am NOT sitting on his fucking lap, Gallagher."
"Yes you are, Mick. A bet's a bet." Ian flashed his teeth in a wicked grin. "Maybe later I'll let you sit on my lap..." he mused.
Mickey grudgingly stepped forward and sat on the old man's lap, and Ian took his place behind the two of them.
"Have you been a good boy this year?" Santa asked him.
Mickey turned to glare at the old man with his fake white beard and shitty glasses. He smelled like an old age home and cigars. "Are you fucking kidding me, grandpa?"
The Santa didn't have a chance to respond because the elf was waving her hands around to get their attention. "On three, Alright?" she told them.
"Smile, Mick," Ian ordered from behind him as he nodded to the elf.
"One..."
"Fuck you, Gallagher."
"Two..."
Ian slapped Mickey upside the head and pointed to the camera.
"Three!"
The flash went off.
That year, everyone who they sent their Christmas card to got to see the picture of Mickey sitting on Santa's lap while flipping off Ian. Ian thought it summed up their relationship perfectly.