Mickey Milkovich hated being an Omega. He hated the way people would look at him, Alpha's always stared at him like a piece of meat while Beta's turned up their nose haughtily. He hated that he needed to be on fucking birth control like a bitch-ass women. And he hated the fact that he downright needed his alpha, that it felt like something was ripping him apart from the inside whenever he and Ian had a fight and the younger man would storm out, that his whole body would spark with jealousy whenever some asshole came onto Ian at the club (what the fuck was with that anyway? They could fucking smell the bond), that he felt sick if he was around too many Alphas, that he felt safest when he was the fucking little spoon in bed, but most of all, he hated that he didn't really hate any of it.
When he had first gone off his suppressants it had been terrifying - not that he would ever admit that, mind you - he had thought that his life would be over, because male Omega's were an abomination against nature, they were wrong on so many levels, they were subhuman, they're only purpose in life was to breed and die. That was what he had always believed, what had always been told to him as a child, what had made him hide who he was from the moment that he had presented.
But nobody had cared. Not even his brothers, who had gone Omega-bashing with him and their father more times then he could count, had thought it mattered, they had been confused, sure, they had thought he was an Alpha all this time, but they hadn't given two shits that their little brother was a pole smoking bitch in heat. It had been like walking into another universe, he had been so used to hiding who and what he was that even he didn't know who he was anymore, he had always pushed down everything remotely Omega, everything remotely gay. But now, he didn't have to know any of that, because Ian knew him better then he knew himself, and he didn't care that Mickey didn't act like an Omega, he didn't mind that Mickey was always going to hold onto some of that fear that had been such a big part of his life for so many years. He looked at Mickey and saw something that Mickey had never seen in himself. And fuck if Mickey was going to correct him and tell him that he wasn't all that great, tell him that he was fucked in the head. Ian Gallagher was special, he was better, more deserving of happiness, then anyone Mickey had ever met, and he was going to hold onto that boy like he was the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because he kinda was, wasn't he?
When Ian had left it had felt that way at least, like he was drowning and on fire and being hit by a fucking bus all at the same time, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. So when he finally went out and found the redhead, and he could breath again, he had decided right then and there that he would never let the boy go away again. He gave Ian all that he was, and when Ian asked for more then he had thought was possible to give, he had given him that too. He had told the world just what he was, and even if it had gotten him a chipped tooth and a bloodied face, it was worth it, because he couldn't breath without Ian.
And then Ian was gone again.
He wasn't really gone, he was still technically there, in Mickey's bed no less, but he wasn't at the same time. Mickey had known that something was off about the Alpha from the moment he found him at that goddamn club, but he had thought that it was just drugs, hoped it was just drugs. Because drugs he could deal with, drugs were half his life, his mom OD'd on drugs, half his family sold drugs, they all did drugs every now and then. Drugs he could deal with. He knew fuck all about Bipolar Disorder.
But he didn't care, because Ian was still Ian, even if he was a little fucked up, Mickey was a lot fucked up, but none of that mattered, because Ian was still Ian and Mickey had already done the impossible a thousand times for him, so really, what was once more? He had gone off his suppressants then, freed himself from a self administered cage, because who gives a shit about his gender when Ian needs him? He had gotten shit done at the rub-n-tug, he had worked out a somewhat good system with Svetlana and the baby, and he had looked after Ian. But one more manic episode, a geriatric viagroid, and a trip to prison later, he had found that maybe they couldn't do the impossible this time, not without help.
So he had pooled what little money he had with the Gallagher's and Mandy, and they had taken Ian to see a doctor (a good one, not some shitty clinic doctor), and they had gotten meds and a therapy schedule and a routine and all the other shit you need when your mom gives you some highly unfortunate genes. And Ian had actually gotten better, had stopped laying in bed for days on end, stopped laughing with a a laugh that sounded wrong, he had been like the Ian that Mickey had met at the baseball field when he was 17. He had his bad days, he still would go on five mile jogs some mornings, sleep till noon on others, stay up late partying, get mad at Mickey for checking to see if he took his pills every morning, then not come back at all that night. But he was still Ian.
And later that month, during the last few hours of Mickey's heat, while Ian had still been knotted inside of Mickey, he had nuzzled the shorter boy's neck, and Mickey had leaned his head to grant access, and Ian had mumbled a question into Mickey's skin, and Mickey had told him to just fucking do it already, and then Ian had bitten down right at Mickey's pulse point. In that moment, everything had been perfect. He was an Omega, with an Alpha (his Alpha) knotted inside of him, and Ian was his. They were bonded. Ian was all fucking Mickey's. And who gave a shit what came next, who gave a shit about the rest of it, about his wife and his father and the kid that Mickey had begrudgingly started to like, because all Mickey really fucking needed was Ian, and he could figure the rest out as long as he had Ian.
They still fought, of course they did, if they didn't then Mickey would be pretty sure Ian was cheating on him again. They fought about stupid things, little things, big things, things that they didn't remember by the time the argument was over. But Ian always came back to Mickey now. He always came back home, no matter what they had shouted about earlier in the day. And being bonded was everything Mickey had never known he had wanted (not that he'd ever admit that either), he liked the fact that he smelled like Ian now, that Ian smelled like him, that people knew that Ian belonged to him. He loved that he belonged to Ian.
Six months later, he found himself sprawled across the couch, staring at the television with no real interest, when a certain tall redhead walked into the room holding an armful of Walmart bags.
"Yo, Mick, get off your ass and help me with this shit."
Mickey glanced up at Ian, eyebrows raised.
"Do I look like a fucking women to you?"
Ian glared at him and replied snarkily.
"No, you look like a tiny Ukrainian man who isn't helping me with the fucking grocery's" While walking into the kitchen.
"Is it really a two person job?" Mickey questioned, but started to sit up anyway. Fucking Gallagher.
"It is if you want to get a dick up your ass tonight." Ian responded lightheartedly, handing Mickey a bag of groceries as the brunette walked into the kitchen.
"Like you can keep your cock to yourself that long. I swear to god there's a reason you Gallagher's breed like fucking rabbits." He commented as he grabbed a can of soup out of one of the grocery bags and put it in the cupboard. Ian snorted and threw a box of Slim Jim's at Mickey, who caught it with a grin and set it down on the counter.
"Yeah, that and none of us can find a condom when we need one, I'm surprised Lip doesn't have the fucking clap yet." Mickey put the last of the groceries away (a box of frozen pizza snacks) and gave Ian a very suggestive look.
"So, uh, speaking of STD's..." He wiggled his eyebrows at the taller boy.
"Did you just use gonorrhea as a fucking pick up line?" Ian asked incredulously, "Did that really just happen?" He laughed as Mickey walked up to him.
"Fucking smell me." The older teen demanded, and Ian moved his nose down the the crook of Mickey's neck, getting a heavy dose of pheromones.
"Your in heat." Ian stated, looking up at Mickey, who seemed far to relaxed for a heat, he usually couldn't go ten minutes without a cock in his ass during a heat.
"Almost, should kick in any minute." Mickey grinned and rubbed the corner of his mouth suggestively, and Ian just stared at him for a second before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a earth stopping kiss. Mickey laughed a little bit as his hands flew into Ian's hair, pulling him impossibly closer. It was, as most of their kisses were, a fight for dominance, neither party wanting to back down. Ian moved his head down to suck a mark onto Mickey's neck, breathing what could only be described as pure Mickey as he did so, and grabbed at the shorter boy's ass, squeezing slightly and nipping at the man's neck. Mickey sucked in a breath and pushed Ian back before capturing his lips again, clashing teeth as he hungrily explored Ian's mouth with his tongue
"You are so fucked up." Ian muttered into Mickey's mouth as he lifted - fucking lifted - the dark haired man up onto the counter top.
"Your know you love it." He responded, grabbing for Ian's belt then unbuttoning the redhead's jeans. Ian moaned as Mickey shoved a hand down his pants, palming his hardening length through his boxers before pushing them out of the way and giving the younger man's cock a few rough tugs before he felt his heat really take effect. Something hot seemed to rise up throughout him, making him moan a little with pure need as his hand stuttered on Ian's length. A second later he was being pulled off the counter and dragged in the direction of their bedroom.
"Take off your fucking clothes." The Alpha growled as soon as the door was closed, and Mickey obeyed without a second thought, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, then fumbling with the button on his pants. Ian was more graceful about it, and was fully naked before Mickey had unzipped his jeans all the way. He didn't wait for Mickey to remove his pants fully, but pulled them off of the shorter boy before all but throwing him into the bed. In a second, He was on top of Mickey, kissing and biting and just touching everywhere, and Mickey was a moaning mess below him, all but whining was Ian explored everywhere except his cock.
He bucked up a little bit, trying to find friction as he felt lubrication drip between his legs. Ian pushed his hips back down and manhandled him so his legs were spread far, one ankle above the redhead's shoulder as he shoved two fingers up into Mickey's heat. He moaned as a third was added, scissoring, stretching him wider and wider as Mickey panted. Ian's other hand grabbed his dick and that was it, he needed a cock in him now.
"Get the fuck on me already." He managed to get out, staring straight into green eyes, which were dark as they looked down at Mickey. Ian nodded, positioning himself and rubbing lubricant down his cock before pushing in. Mickey all but sobbed with the relief and pleasure that came with it. Ian was big, even for an Alpha, and Mickey was being stretched perfectly as Ian bottomed out, dropping his head into the crook of Mickey's neck again, breathing in that intoxicating smell.
"Move." Mickey commanded (or at least tried to command, it came out sounding more like pleading) and Ian did so, pulling almost all the way out before slamming forward, starting off relatively slow but soon setting a breakneck pace, making both of them loose any semblance of control. Mickey met Ian's every thrust, groaning obscenities into the air as Ian bit down on his neck, into the very same spot that he had when they had bonded all those months ago. They moved still faster, and Ian moved from Mickey's neck to his lips, kissing him with all that he was worth, bringing them both close to the edge faster then they would have been if this hadn't been heat sex. Mickey broke the kiss and moaned as he came, tightening around Ian, driving him too over the edge, and Ian's knot started to grow, an soon his thrusts slowed and stopped. They were both panting, Ian still holding himself up with shaky arms so that he wouldn't smush Mickey, as Ian finished coming, then Mickey tightened his legs around Ian's back and rolled them onto their sides so that Ian wouldn't have to support them both anymore. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey tightly, holding the older boy as close as physically possible and kissing his hair. Mickey felt himself begin to drift off to sleep, but was still awake when Ian muttered something into his ear.
"I love you." Mickey smiled slightly and pushed his head farther into Ian's chest.
"I fucking love you too."
And maybe their lives were far from perfect, maybe they had still had years and years of struggles ahead of them. But Mickey would take it all, take all the fucking shit storms that came with it, if he could have moments like this with Ian.