Mickey made his decision in Juvie when he went in that second time. And normally Mickey wasn't one for making big decisions, because his life was fucked as it is, he didn't have choices or options, so there was no point in pretending he could make them. He sort of thought it was typical that the first time he did make a decision was the time it was probably the biggest decision of his life.
There was one thing Mickey did know about his decisions though and that was that he never went back on them once he had his mind made up. He wasn't going to back down or be some stupid faggy coward. No, he was a Milkovich and albeit a bad one since he wanted to fuck gays not stab them, but still. There was enough Milkovich in him that meant he had to face up to some facts.
And the decision that Mickey made when he was lying in his cell with his shithead cellmate on the bunk below him, snoring his fucking head off, was that this was all fucking bullshit. It was all crap. Everything about his life was complete and utter bollocks. From his family and what being a Milkovich meant to the fact he was stuck in a shitty little cell with a guy who smelt eternally like piss and weed, a combination that was just disgusting. The reason he was in that fucking cell was shitty as well.
Every single thing that Mickey could think of was shitty. His life, his future, his past, his prospects. All of it. Mickey was fucked for life, he'd accepted that. He'd pretty much realised that when he was still a little kid and his mother had been around. Or maybe it had been the day his mother had left. Either way, it didn't fucking matter. All that mattered was that it was true and all of this around him was shit.
Except one thing.
Ian fucking Gallagher.
He wasn't shit. In fact, he was fucking amazing. In the bed that was. And okay, maybe out of it as well even though that was really gay for Mickey to think. Gallagher was the one who never looked at him like he was a fuck up, who looked at him like maybe he was worth something. Gallagher was the one who made him want to be worth something even though he knew that he never would be, because shit, he had a pretty hefty criminal record before he was even twenty. Mickey was fucked for life, but as long as Gallagher was the one fucking him, that didn't sound so bad.
Because Gallagher could do that thing with his hips that hit just the right spot. Gallagher knew how to fuck him so hard that Mickey could see lights dancing in front of his eyes for hours afterwards and had to actually pretend that he was feeling completely normal, when he wasn't. Gallagher was the one who understood that being gay didn't have to be about parading a fucking flag or being as camp as hell. It was about cock and it was about teeth in his shoulder and rounds of sex that had you feeling it for days afterwards in the best fucking way possible. Gallagher understood it. Gallagher understood him.
And Mickey fucking hated knowing that, but it was true.
Gallagher was the one who seemed to have accepted that Mickey was more than a bit of a dick and that he was never going to hold Ian's hand or kiss him in public or even in private really. He understood that Mickey was never going to say anything sappy or buy him flowers or go on a date. He understood that Mickey wasn't the sort to wash all that regularly and that he was never in a million years going to come out of the closet because that was just suicide. Gallagher understood.
He understood too much sometimes though. Because he understood the obvious, but he also understood that he could smile at Mickey's insults because they were meant to be compliments Mickey didn't know how to say. He understood that Mickey was scared of his Dad, of his brothers, shit Mickey was even scared of Ian. He understood that Mickey cared, but that he couldn't ever say it, because Mickey didn't have that sort of vocabulary.
Or at least, he hoped Gallagher understood that. He'd definitely used to, Mickey had been able to see it in his eyes. Except, Mickey had fucked up. Mickey had said things he didn't mean and he couldn't get that wounded expression that had been on Gallagher's face out of his head no matter how hard he tried. So really, he knew that he shouldn't be making all these decisions because chances were he'd already cocked up big time.
But either way, Mickey had his mind made up. As far as he was concerned, he was going to go and he was going to fucking own Ian Gallagher. Because even if Mickey didn't want to face it, Gallagher was actually the only thing in his life that wasn't shit, that stupid redhead was the only thing even remotely worth it. Mickey had always known it, he'd just never admitted it and never thought he had to do anything about it. Because Mickey already knew, had always known that Gallagher was too good for him. Someone like Ian Gallagher with all of his dreams and ambitions that were actually fucking possible, he could get anyone he wanted as long as they were gay. He could do anything, be anyone and he didn't need Mickey.
But shit, Mickey was selfish and Mickey needed him. So Mickey was going to have him. He'd already decided. It was as simple as that. And he'd be damned if he'd let something as simple as Gallagher being pissed at him ruin that. Mickey may not have been smart by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn't stupid enough to miss the looks that Ian had given him when he thought Mickey wouldn't notice. And Mickey was definitely smart enough to know that a guy like him would only probably get someone like Ian Gallagher to love him once in his fucking life.
So really, if you looked at it like that, the choice was obvious.
Not that Mickey was ever going to explain it to anybody.
Mandy was alone when she came to pick him up, because Ian hadn't been to see Mickey yet, which he didn't think was a good sign for whether or not Ian had forgiven him, but still, he could work past that. The weather was stupidly hot when he got out, it was uncomfortable and he hated it for barely any reason at all other than he needed something to hate. Because if he didn't hate the weather, he was going to make a comment about how much he hated what Mandy was wearing and how much she looked like a slag and Mickey kind of needed his sister to not hate him so much. Especially since he was planning on stealing her boyfriend.
"Hey fuckface," she said, slinging an arm around his neck and hugging him. She didn't tell him he smelt like BBQ sauce this time, which was progress.
"Fuck off," Mickey muttered, "You're knight in shining fucking armour not think you need protecting this time or something?" He had to ask that even though he knew it was gay. He had to fish for information even though he didn't want to. He hated that this was what Gallagher had reduced him to.
Mandy snorted, knowing who the fuck he meant, because really, who else did she hang out with other than Gallagher? "He's been busy with ROTC and shit recently, trying to get into WestPoint," she said and there was an edge to her voice that made Mickey know she didn't want Gallagher to get in. She probably didn't even believe he would get in. Mickey did. "Why the fuck's it matter to you?"
"Need to talk to him about something?" Mickey said, rubbing at his bottom lip and refusing to get riled up about this conversation because, well shit, he was going to be having a worse one soon. The prospect made him want to set himself on fire, but he'd made his decision and he fucking refused to go back on it. Simple as.
"Why?" Mandy scowled at him, getting all protective because she thought she owned Gallagher's ass or some shit like that. She didn't.
Mickey snorted as they started to walk away from Juvie. He didn't bother swearing at the guards again this time, he couldn't be bothered. "None of your fucking business," he snapped and he knew his sister was looking at him weirdly, but he pretended for his own piece of mind that he didn't notice.
When they got home, Mickey got in the shower just long enough to cool himself down and make himself feel less uncomfortable in his own skin. He cleaned all the important bits though, obviously. Mickey wasn't that gross and he did care about basic hygiene at the very least. He didn't bother dressing up or any gay shit like that, because Mickey wasn't like that and he thought he'd rather chew his own arm off. But he did put some gel in his hair to make it look a little bit better and the tank top he put on didn't have anything gross down the front of it, so that was something.
But he still wasn't making an effort for fucking Ian Gallagher.
Mandy didn't ask where he was going. Probably just assumed it was to go get high, which he was actually planning to do if this plan of his went wrong. And hell, even if it went right, Mickey wasn't fussy and it had been a while since he'd been high.
When he pounded on the front door to the Gallaghers', it was Fiona who answered the door. She looked tired, but then she always did. That was probably something that as a given living with all those kids and fucking Frank. "Thought you were in Juvie," she said, because of course everyone in this neighbourhood knew who was in and out of jail and the basic secrets about everyone that people were too fucking stupid to hide.
"Got out today," he said, even though he didn't know why the fuck he was bothering to tell her that, "Ian in?" He only just resisted saying Gallagher or Firecrotch. The first name tasted weird on his tongue since he barely ever fucking used it.
Fiona scowled at him then, because she always had to be fucking protective. "Why?" she asked, her grip on the door tightening, "What's he done, he upset Mandy or something?"
He felt a muscle in his jaw jumping because this was pissing him off, but he didn't say anything. He just stared at her and he didn't know what she saw in his expression, but eventually she just shrugged and stepped back. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that she picked up the killing bat as soon as they walked through into the other room.
"Mickey?" Ian was sitting on the couch with all of the fucking Gallagher clan and some additional people like Kev and the guy he knew that Fiona was fucking but who's name he didn't know. He tried not to freak out at the fact there were so many people there, all of them frowning at him.
Looking at Ian's face helped, which was stupid. Especially since there were so many emotions flickering across the redhead's features that Mickey couldn't name a single one of them. Mickey couldn't work out whether or not Ian was pleased to see him, whether or not he was mad at him and it was confusing. But Mickey was still going to follow through with his decision, because he wasn't a fucking pussy.
He could do this.
"I need to talk to you," he said lamely, licking at the corner of his mouth and staring at Ian hard enough to probably bore holes through the guy's head.
Ian stared for another minute and then nodded ever so slightly, standing up off the couch and walking into the kitchen. He went around the corner where the rest of the Gallagher clan couldn't quite see them, but Mickey knew they were all going to fucking move and check Mickey wasn't strangling Ian or something.
"You got let out of Juvie," Ian said, which hadn't been what Mickey had been expecting. The redhead leant against the sink and Mickey stood stupidly in front of him, not knowing what to do with himself, but knowing he had to say this.
"Yeah, today," Mickey replied, because he was still trying to work out whether or not Ian was mad at him. It looked like even the redhead couldn't quite make up his mind though which was worrying.
Ian chewed the corner of his mouth and Mickey rubbed at his.
"What did you need to talk to me about then?" the younger boy asked and he sort of looked like he wanted to run. Which was too bad, because he was going to listen to what Mickey had to say even if Mickey had to tie him to a fucking chair and force him to listen.
Mickey cracked his knuckles which he regretted when Ian flinched. "Um, I made a decision," Mickey said, knowing he sounded like a fucking idiot but hoping that Ian would at least bear with him, "And I realised that my life is kind of shit and chances are that my Dad's going to be the one who does me in eventually."
Ian frowned at him, "And why do you think I need to know this?"
He looked like he was actually considering whether or not he should be concerned about Mickey's mental health.
"Because if I'm fucked anyway it doesn't really matter if Frank knows, it doesn't matter if Mandy knows," Mickey said, the words tasting weird in his mouth, but not as sour as lies did so he didn't want to gag just yet, or shut up. He had to do this. Ian was staring at him, knowing there was more to come because Ian fucking knew everything as far as Mickey was concerned. "And I figured that if I'm already fucked then there's no point in pretending I don't give a shit about you or that I meant what I said."
And that was about as close to saying 'I love you' as Mickey was ever going to get. Even if it was in a completely unspectacular, kind of shitty, really sort of confusing speech that had Gallagher staring at him like he had two heads.
And because Mickey had made his decision and because he'd already landed himself in it anyway, he figured he might as well seal whatever fucking fate he had and lurched forwards to mash Ian's mouth against his. It only took a few seconds before Ian's mouth was moving against his and the redhead's fingernails were biting into his hips and pulling him closer, even though it was far too fucking hot for them to be this close. Mickey pushed his fingers into Ian's hair and yanked him down to his height, trying his fucking best to shove his tongue down Ian's throat and claim him in the only way that Mickey really knew.
Ian laughed breathlessly into Mickey's mouth and grabbed Mickey's ass through his jeans. Mickey pressed against him even more, not quite able to work out why the hell he hadn't kissed Ian before, because it wasn't actually at all bad. He tasted like smoke, beer and shitty toothpaste and it was a strangely good combination that should have been disgusting, but wasn't. Mickey bit down on Ian's lower lip just because he didn't want the guy thinking that Mickey was suddenly nice or a pushover or some shit and the noise that Ian made in the back of his throat was fucking hot.
Mickey was the one who ended it, who jerked backwards and wiped at his mouth, looking sort of thoughtful. They stared at each other for a minute and Mickey could feel the stares of the people in the other room but he was going to stand by what he'd said and he wasn't going to give a shit, because if he was going to die then he wasn't going to be a fucking coward and hide away. He refused to do that.
A wide shit-eating grin spread out across Ian's lips, making Mickey want to kiss him again but also making him think of blowjobs. In his defence it had been a while and that kiss had made him hard. "You want a beer?" Ian asked eventually, still grinning and rubbing at the back of his neck and Mickey prayed to God he was wrong about that being a blush spreading across the redhead's cheeks.
He shrugged, "Sure whatever."
The next day when Ian came over, Mandy and Mickey were the only ones in the house. Ian knew it was safe because Mickey had sent him a text to tell him to get his fucking ass over there because only Mandy was in and he was as horny as fuck. The round they'd had in Ian's bedroom the night before had only really taken the edge off.
Mandy was the one who opened the door with her usual enthusiasm when it came to Ian and Mickey hated how fucking pleased it made him when Ian only really smiled when he saw Mickey. That wide stupid grin made his cheeks dimple and his eyes fucking shine and Mickey didn't know what he'd done that made the guy think it was okay, but suddenly Ian was walking towards him. Mandy forgotten.
He sort of forgot to care when Ian slammed him into a wall and shoved his tongue down his throat. Because really, it had been a while and Mickey had made a decision after all. And what with the way that Ian did that thing with his hips when they fucked, it wasn't really a decision that Mickey felt like going back on. Not anywhere in the near future anyway.