In which Mickey gets noticed by a creepy guy and Ian gets jealous.

Disclaimer: no characters are mine.

Ian and Mickey were back on the Southside. Three years after Ian got his GED and Mickey started college - because as it turned out, Mickey had actually graduated high school – they decided to pay their family a little visit. But the truth was that Mickey had no one to visit. Mandy was off to some weird trip with her crappy boyfriend, and Ian was busy catching up with his huge and noisy tribe.

So here he was, sitting by himself at the Alibi, looking into his glass as if it might hold to secret of the universe, or the solution to his boredom. Suddenly, a black-haired stormed approached him and dropped him off his feet.

"Mickey, is that you?! Little bastard! Three years without any news, from both of you? We were sick worried!"

"No, you were not," answered Mickey, a smirk on his face. He had identified his attacker as soon as he had pulled him into a teddy bear-like hug. He wouldn't admit it, but he had missed Kevin and his stupid jokes, his genuinely weird questions and his peaceful attitude. He broke into a real smile and went what the hell? Couldn't hurt to be nice.

"I missed ya, asshole. You and this crazy wife of yours."

Kev smiled back, patting him on the back. They talked for a few more minutes, and Mickey realized how much he liked being out of here. Of course, he missed the Alibi, the drunken fights, getting high on the baseball field at midnight.. But the narrow minded people, the huge amounts of shit he had gotten into and, most of all, his bastard of a dad, were things he was glad he left behind.

"So, man, whatcha doing these days?" Asked Kev, cutting off his thoughts.

"Well, I'm at college, in Michigan. I study Athletic training."

"Oh yeah? Learning how to make little shits run while you watch them, sitting on a bench"

Mickey laughed. "Yeah. Kinda."

After that, Kev had to go back behind the bar and watch out for Frank, whose liver catastrophe had apparently not prevented from drinking. Mickey felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Miss ya. Be there in 10. xx"

He smiled, and put his phone back. Ian was still his sloppy self, and even though Mickey had pretended to hate it for a while, it's been a long time since he stopped denying how much he actually liked it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a guy was now sitting beside him. He was tall, tanned, was wearing a nice suit and expensive-looking shoes. His hair were glued back on his head, and he couldn't be older than 25. He had this smugly look Mickey used to wear, and had an impressive aura of self-confidence. A cocky Northside bastard.

Surprisingly enough, the stranger started talking to him.

"Hello, handsome."

"Ex-excuse me?" Mickey stuttered. The stranger must have mistaken his hesitation for intimidation and his smile became bigger.

"I said hello, handsome. You look very lonely tonight, uh? Need a little distraction?"

"Uh, no, thanks?" It was starting to become really weird.

"Oh, come on, big guy. I've seen how you looked at me. I don't need to be clairvoyant to notice that."

Cocky and embarrassing. Great.

"Listen, I'm taken."

"Well, what she doesn't know can't hurt her, right? Look, I'm taken too, but can't help it. I need to have fun."

Oh, great. A closeted dumbass. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his thigh, and jumped.

"Listen, asshole. I'm married, okay? I don't need any distraction, thank you very much."

"Oh, honey." He answered, a smirk on his face. "You radiate gay. Don't tell me you're not a bit frustrated by your marriage."

The ringing that the door made when opening saved him. He sighed, even more relieved when he saw who was coming through, his eyebrows furrowed.

Ian.

As the red haired boy came closer, Mickey had an idea. He was gonna have fun, too.

When Ian was closer and leaned on for a kiss, he simply put his hand on his arm and stopped him. When he saw his questioning face, he simply smiled, with a smile that meant I'll tell you after. And Ian trusted him, and sat next to him.

"Hey, Ian, buddy. How was your day?" Mickey asked, a neutral expression on his face.

"Fine, I guess. Oh, and Fiona says hello!"

"Oh, great… Another gay hiding in a cupboard? How many are there here?" the man sarcastically asked.

"Excuse me?" Ian didn't stutter and looked at the stranger with a bewildered look.

"Well, I'm not blind. I've been trying to talk your friend here into a quick blowjob, for the fun, and he keeps saying he's taken, he's married or god knows what. What a bunch of killjoy!"

"Listen, asshole. If he said he was married, or even taken, you should have stopped. You don't know what jealousy can do, and if I were you, I wouldn't try to get into a fight. Well, maybe if getting beat the shit out of myself was my thing." Ian was clearly pissed now, and even though Mickey would have looooved to torture the other man a bit longer, he was happy. Jealous Ian was his kinky thing.

"Come on, you're not funny. Your wife pissed at you?"

And then Ian, out of frustration, caught the guy by his collar, lifted him up and whispered:

"I don't have a wife, I have a husband, the same husband you're trying to get a blowjob from. So if I were you I'd stop right now or there won't be anything left to do a blowjob with between your legs. Understood, asshole?"

The man was livid. He nodded quickly, and Ian let him go. The man readjusted his clothes and tried to gather what was left of his dignity.

"You're really a bunch of faggots. Wouldn't have wanted a blow job from you, anyway." He muttered before living, slightly shaking.

Ian turned to Mickey, a large grin spreading slowly over his face.

"Hello, dear husband." He said, before kissing Mickey, long and slow, deepening the kiss after a few seconds. And for a minute, Mickey is overwhelmed by how much he loves the man in front of him. Every aspect of him.

"I love you, assbutt."

"Wow, where did that come from?" Ian was smiling again, his forehead against Mickey's.

"It's just.. everything is so different from when we left. Three years ago, I couldn't see myself kissing you here, being free to be who I am. With you."

"Mickey, you're getting sloppy.. Ouch!" Mickey punched Ian in the arm and laughed.

Ian protecting Mickey was a new feeling, for both of them. Mickey had always been the tough guy, the one with the tattooed knuckles, the mean face and always an insult at the end of his tongue. But he had learned to let things go, to let Ian be the one protecting him.

And now, in his arms, laughing softly, it just felt right to let it go.