FUCK U-UP
"Iggy if i hear you had queer balls sex in that joint Imma fuck you up!" Mickey heard his father yell from the living room as the sirens blared outside the house. They were words Mickey had heard a thousand times over. "Imma fuck you up!". They had been yelled at his brothers every time someone went to juvie. He had heard it before getting his nose broken after his 5th grade teacher called DFS. They had been the last words Mickey had heard before the gun went off and his mother laid on top of the dining room table for three days. Mickey had lived in fear of those words, and as Tony handed him his first fake id at the age of 14, Mickey knew exactly what to do with it. He refused to let the words control him, they would now become a part.
THE EAGLE
Ian sat on the tattooing chair as the artist in front of him drew the design. He knew it had to be big and dark. It had to cover at least three ribs and nothing could be seen through it.
"So what happened?" the artist asked.
"I got too drunk, but isn't that always the case?" Ian replied, trying to end the conversation.
"Usually, but don't worry. I do fixes all of the time." Ian just nodded. His head pounding and ribs sore from the night before.
"Is there any meaning to it?" the tattooer asked, pointing to the ink on Ian's ribs.
"Not supposed to be." Ian said taking one last look at the iconic mouse ears before it is replaced by the eagle.
A SINGLE BAND
"Just because i asked doesn't mean i wanna wear a rainbow tux and parade down the street singing Born This Way." Mickey told his fiancee after dinner at the Gallagher's.
"I know." Ian replied. "I don't want that either. All i want is to know that its more than 'a fucking piece of paper'." Mickey sat on that. He agreed with Ian, it needed to be the exact opposite of his wedding to Svetlana. But Mickey - nor Ian - doesn't want June at the Plaza. He couldn't afford it either.
"What if its us, our siblings and Yev at city hall? We don't have to put on a show. We can write our own vows, and know that this is it." Ian smiled with his entire face.
"What if we got tattoos afterwards" Ian added.
"What? Like Ian and Mickey Forever? Hell no!" Mickey rebuffed.
"No no no" Ian explained. "Like rings, a blank band on our ring finger, a ring we can never lose, can never get rid of. We've gone through pain to get it, but it is worth every second to be where we are." he finished. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist.
"Shut up." Mickey said, pushing the ginger away. But two months later, he was writing a receipt staring a the black band above the fading U.