Hi there!
This is my first fic on Shameless… I really hope you enjoy it!
Thanks to my beta, Azrina.
HE IS DANGEROUS
Maybe no one would believe it, but Ian actually knew what he was doing when he put himself between his roommate and Mickey. Without any trace of any fear on his face.
"Ian, stay back," someone had said, but it was too late. He was still in front of Mickey, their eyes finally met again, after what had been about three months. Ryan, the roommate was curled up against the wall breathing heavily and apparently terrified of Mickey.
But Ian really wasn't afraid of standing there, waiting for Mickey's fist to connect to his face. There was nothing that Mickey could do to hurt him more than what he had already done.
The whole room went silent, the only noise was Ryan's moaning as he tried to stand on his shaky legs and run away.
Mickey's arm was still up, his hand closed tightly in a fist. And he was still waiting, afraid of touching Ian.
A part of Ian still hoped that the hit would never come, but he knew that Mickey claims respect in juvie and letting Ian go unpunished wasn't an option. So he just prayed that he could understand where Mickey was going to hit, trying not to be caught in surprise like the last time.
Mickey chugged, whispering something like, "You're a fucking idiot," but Ian didn't heard his words, stunned from the shot of pain radiating through his stomach as Mickey's fist finally hit him, knocking the wind out of him.
He gasped, his eyes still focused on Mickey as he left the room walking quietly through the hallway.
The first to speak was Ethan. While the small crowd around them was disappearing, he approached Ian, a hand on his shoulder, as he started to speak, "I know you're new in a place like this. But you have to understand that heroes always die and fighting against Mickey Milkovich isn't the smartest way to survive."
Ian spit on the floor, smiling for the ingenuity of those words. He knew too much what fight against a Milkovich meant and if there was someone who didn't know how the things were, it was Ethan himself. The redhead noisily popped his lips closed and started to walk away in no direction. He needed to be alone for a while.
In his mind there were the same scenes again, even after three months. Mickey, the wedding, that damned kiss on the roof. And then there was their last meeting, where Mickey kept avoiding the evidence, beating the shit out Ian and leaving him alone half passed out and with his heart broken.
Definitely there was nothing worse that Mickey could have done to him, he had no reason to be afraid of him.
When Ian noticed Mickey walking in his direction, he pretended to be indifferent, as he kept walking without diverting his eyes even if his heart was pounding out loudly in his chest. His face was blank as he walked right next to him, as if he was no one.
"Gallagher."
Ian kept walking, ignoring the tension spreading through his body. Then Mickey grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop to turn in his direction. "Don't do that again. Do you understand?" he said, pretending to appear threatening.
Ian stared at him. "Or what?" he asked defiantly, refusing to put his eyes down. Still, he wasn't afraid of Mickey Milkovich, not anymore.
"Or I won't be so gentle with you. And I really don't want to mess up your pretty face."
Ian felt the anger boil in him and for a moment he considered the idea of leaving him there to run away. "It didn't bother you the last time," he answered instead.
From the way Mickey's eyes grew wild, Ian could easily tell that he had noticed right in that moment the small scar under his lower lip, right where Mickey's kick had hit him.
Mickey let his arm go, as if his skin burnt and for a moment, just for that moment, he was the one who diverted his gaze. The truth was that Ian's ice eyes hurt him.
"You need to stay away from that Ryan, ok?" he finally said.
"So that's it, Mickey! You're fucking jealous!"
Mickey swore something and rubbed his lip with a thumb. "Let's just say that if you try and talk to him again, I'll beat the shit out of him. And you know I'm not afraid of doing it."
Ian just shrugged. Of course Mickey expected Ian to obey, like a good and loyal little soldier would. And even if Ian wouldn't do it for Mickey, he was too afraid that something could happen to Ryan or whoever else.
But that was the old Ian, the one who died three months ago in the same garden where Mickey had left him abandoned. Or at least that was what Ian kept telling himself, even if what had happened few minutes before showed the opposite.
When Ian turned away, walking on his own way, Mickey spoke again. "He's dangerous. Stay away from him."
…
In the next few days Ian could always feel Mickey's eyes on his back, as if he was stalking him everywhere. But he didn't care, forcing himself to believe that they were only crazy coincidences and that Mickey wasn't trying to make his life shittier than it was.
Moreover he hadn't had a chance to speak to Ryan since that day. It didn't bother Ian because he knew how Ryan was shy and he also had spent most of his time with Ethan.
But that morning Ryan sat next to him at breakfast and they exchanged a few words. Now Ian was following him through the deserted hallway.
"Where are we going?" he asked when he noticed that it was the first time he went on that side of the building and maybe they weren't supposed to be there.
For a moment Mickey's words jangled in his head, 'He's dangerous, Ian. Stay away from him.' But Ian refused to believe it. Besides, Mickey wasn't in the position to judge someone else.
The fact that Ryan didn't answer worried him. "Maybe we better come back another time," he tried. "Ethan is probably looking for me."
"Ethan is probably busy," Ryan said, suddenly turning in Ian's direction and grabbed his arms, pushing him against a wall. "You're gay, Ian, aren't you?" he asked, even if Ian understood that he already knew the answer.
The redhead winced, trying to fight him back, but Ryan intensified his grip on him, sticking his nails deeper into Ian's pale skin. "That's great, 'cause I won't explain it to you."
Ian was strong, maybe as strong as Mickey was, but he still couldn't make his arms free. He tried to relax his muscles, breathing steadily and then kicked Ryan in his gut.
He thought that it would be enough to knock him down. In the end it took only few minutes for Mickey to beat him up. but Ian realized how wrong he was when Ryan strengthened his grip, taking advantage of Ian's surprise for hitting him with his head on his face.
Ian blinked, the pain spreading from his face to his body. His brain was still blurry when Ryan pulled him from the wall, an arm around his shoulders and the other on his hair.
He couldn't react even when he understood that Ryan was pushing him against something. It was something that Ian didn't see, but he could clearly feel it at the back of his head.
Then all of a sudden, Ryan wasn't holding him anymore and Ian fell with a thud, his eyes closed, his breathing hard.
His only thought in that moment was that in situation in which he would have been glad to see Mickey, he wasn't there. Because, Ian was sure of that, Mickey would have helped him.
He felt Ryan's hot breathing on his face and felt nauseous; his hands were under Ian's shirt, trying to rip it off.
Ian wanted to push him away, but he hadn't strength enough, his body refused to execute the commands that his brain tried to formulate. He wanted to beg Ryan for giving him the time he needed for swallowing the spit that was accumulating in his mouth and that made him nauseous, but he couldn't speak. He was probably crying through his still closed eyes.
He was passing out and there was no Mickey helping him. Ryan could do whatever he wanted with Ian's unresponsive body.
Ian didn't noticed that Ryan's hands weren't on him anymore until he felt other two hands, more gentle and unsure. There was someone else holding him still, giving him the time he needed to relax his tensed muscle and try to breath properly.
Someone was yelling far away. Ian could identify that voice everywhere, it was Mickey's.
"I'll kill you, dirty piece of shit!"
Ian couldn't help but smile, knowing how stupid the probability seemed in that moment. If only he could open his eyes…
"Mickey?" the one who was holding Ian, preventing him from falling down, while everything spun around him, was Ethan. "Mickey, he's bleeding a lot."
Well done, Mickey! Ian thought, glad that despite of everything that had happened between them, Mickey was still there for him. But when he focused on Ethan's worried tone, he understood that maybe it wasn't Ryan who was bleeding. Or at least he wasn't the only one.
Even if he couldn't see him, he knew that Mickey had stopped, maybe sitting on the top of Ryan and Ian could feel his dark eyes on him. He wanted to reassure him that everything was okay now that he was there, but his lips wouldn't move.
"Let's call someone," Mickey's voice sounded strange, as if he was scared. And Ian hadn't ever heard a scared Milkovich, neither when Mandy was in her worst moment.
Ethan obeyed almost immediately, leaving Ian alone and going away. When Ian lost the contact with Ethan's hands he started to shake harder. If no one held him, he would have fallen.
"What the hell?! Ethan, fast!"
Other hands were on Ian. They were less gentle, but warmer.
"Help," This time Ian was almost sure that he had somehow managed to say that word. But even if he had only thought it, Mickey had probably read the fear on his face.
"I'm here, no worries."
While a hand was still holding Ian's trembling shoulder, the other was pressing against his head, trying to stop the blood from streaming out. Ian was annoyed because of that touch, it made the wound sting. But at the same time the pressure against his head was helping the pounding.
"It's okay, Ian. I'm not leaving," Mickey kept repeating.
And Ian knew he was being honest.
