A/N: I wrote this for a prompt from my 100th Tumblr follower, fandomsdontruinlives, to celebrate the milestone. (I know it's not a lot, but it's a big deal to me!)


100 Days

The day started off as usual. The alarm on Mickey's side of the bed began ringing, but of course the brunette slept through it, so Ian leaned over him and banged his hand down on it until it turned off. He rolled back over to his own side but his momentum was interrupted by Mickey wrapping his arms around the redhead.

"Don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Don't get off... You're so warm..." Mickey said, pulling Ian closer and nuzzling against the crook of his neck.

Ian was tempted to listen to him, even though he knew that they had to get up, but the choice was taken out of his hands when Dimitri slowly pushed open the door and walked to the bathroom. Mickey froze and dropped his hands from Ian's waist.

Ian let out a small laugh once the bathroom door had closed. He settled back onto his pillow but had to fight to keep the giggles to a minimum.

"What is it?" Mickey asked him groggily.

"Nothing... it just reminded me of our first time, when your dad walked in right when we were done and went straight to the bathroom without looking at us."

Mickey cringed at the memory but Ian turned to face him and planted a gentle kiss on his scruffy cheek. "You need to shave," he said, reaching a hand up to scratch at Mickey's bristly chin playfully with his fingers.

"Yeah, yeah..." Mickey replied, swatting Ian's hand away. He threw his feet over the edge of the bed and grunted as he forced his body to follow. "I need to smoke..." he complained.

"No. What you need to do is go make sure your son brushes his teeth, and then shave, get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen for breakfast." He slapped Mickey's butt as the older man slowly walked past him and into the bathroom.

Ian got up and set three bowls down on the kitchen table. He grabbed the two boxes of cereal from the cabinet: Special K for himself and Lucky Charms for Dimitri and Mickey. Spoons, milk, glasses and orange juice were added to the fray before the Milkovich boys even sat down.

"What day is it?" Dimitri asked Ian as he watched him pour the juice into their glasses.

"It's Wednesday. See the calendar?" he said, pointing to the fridge. Thanks to Fiona, Ian had gotten used to keeping a calendar on the fridge to keep track of shit like bill due dates and appointments. They would cross the days off together with Dimitri each night. There were red exes all the way up to Tuesday, and there was a big "100" written in marker beside Wednesday's date.

"You got any plans today, Gallagher?" Mickey wondered aloud while also staring at the numbers on the calendar.

"I was thinking of taking D over to the library when he gets back from school," he said, giving the little boy across from him a smile. "They're gonna start reading the first Harry Potter book to the kids at Story Time. I think he'd like it."

Mickey nodded and shoved another spoonful of the marshmallowy cereal into his mouth. Ian eyed him as he poured himself another bowl, but forced himself not to comment on Mickey's eating habits again...

"Then can we watch the movie?" Dimitri asked. "Chris from school says the movies are better than the books!"

"Well Chris is a little idiot," Ian told him, "but don't tell him I said that," he added as an afterthought. He waited for the six year-old to nod that he understood. Ian gave him another smile.

"Okay, if you finish your homework before dinner, then all three of us will watch the movie tonight, okay? How's that sound?"

"Deal!" Dimitri shouted, just a bit over-enthusiastically.

Mickey winced. "Kid... it's early. Don't scream."

Ian and Dimitri laughed.

"Sorry Daddy..."

Ian cleared the table while Mickey helped his son get ready for school. He passed them their respective lunch boxes (filled with leftovers from the prior night's dinner) as they walked out together. Mickey always walked Dimitri to the bus stop on his way to the garage.

Ian busied himself with watching TV and working out, and even doing the laundry when he got desperate. It was easier for him because he'd stopped once before, when he'd been deployed.

It was a lot harder for Mickey.

After Ian had left Chicago, whenever he'd picked up a cigarette, his mind had always gone back to memories of Mickey, to the point where it was less painful to just quit. Of course, moving into the Milkovich house had thrown that idea to shit.

Ian had picked the habit right back up on his first night back with Mickey... until Dimitri came home from school one day and went on and on about learning in class that smoking causes lung cancer. He'd cried and cried to Mickey, telling him he didn't want his daddy to die, and so, to Ian's surprise, Mickey had promised his son that he'd quit... which meant that Ian had to quit too, all over again.

That had been over three months ago. One hundred days ago, to be exact.

He was about to make himself a sandwich for lunch when the front door opened and Mickey walked in, wicked grin and all.

"Mick?"

"What's wrong, Firecrotch. Not happy to see me?"

"I'm just surprised. What are you doing back so early?"

Mickey shrugged. "Missed ya. Thought we could have lunch together... or maybe something more..."

No wonder he'd come at lunchtime. Dimitri couldn't interrupt them, since he was still at school. It sounded nice and all but Mickey never did anything that could be mistaken as sweet or romantic without a good reason.

"Oh yeah? Is that the only reason?" Ian asked as he put his arms around the neck of the dark haired man standing in front of him.

"Yeah..." Mickey looked up at Ian.

"Really?" Ian pushed Mickey against the wall and started kissing his neck.

Mickey groaned.

"You sure there's no other reason?" the redhead pressed. He knew Mickey would cave eventually. They didn't keep secrets anymore.

Just as predicted, Mickey blushed and looked away.

"I was feeling jittery," he admitted. "By the time I'd chewed through my third roll of Lifesavers I figured I might as well come home and let you distract me... you know, fuck the craving out of me..." He raised an eyebrow suggestively and grinned at Ian, then turned and walked towards their bedroom.

Mickey took his work clothes off on his way, dropping them on the floor as a sort of trail for Ian to follow.

Ian watched him go. Ever since they'd quit, Mickey had discovered that a good, hard fuck usually got him to stop thinking about wanting another cigarette.

"You need to stop eating so much sugar, Mick. You've gained at least fifteen pounds since we quit. Sugar isn't a substitute for nicotine!" he called as he raced to followed Mickey into the room.

"You gonna lecture me on my diet or are you gonna get on me?"

"I'm serious, Mick. You can't keep shoving food into your mouth every time you get a craving..."

"Okay then, why don't you get in here and shove something else into my mouth?"

Ian didn't need any more of an invitation. How could he argue when Mickey put it like that? He smiled as he lifted his own shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor beside Mickey's boxers.