I don't own Shameless.
Alcohol and Bandages: Chapter 1
Mickey was fairly sure that the night before Ian left for West Point was the worst night of his life. He kept a bottle of whiskey glued to his right hand, a cigarette in his left as he bitterly watched the clock over the television. Mandy constantly shot him worried glances as he lit another cigarette.
Ian had been insistent that they were truthful to Mandy; he said it wasn't fair that they continued to sleep around behind her back. Mickey hadn't been happy but he stood behind Ian as he whispered the truth the dark haired girl. While Mickey expected her to be pissed, she had squealed with happiness, claiming that she had never been happier for them. While it had been embarrassing that night, Mickey would kill to be that happy again.
The Gallagher's were having a going away party for Ian; one that though Mickey was invited to it, he couldn't force himself to go. It would likely be a year before Ian was even allowed to come home again and that was a year Mickey wasn't sure he was going to survive. Ian had whispered his pleas for Mickey to come to the party every night that week as he laid with his head resting on Mickey's ribs in the van behind the Gallagher's house. Mickey was positive that cuddling with Ian Gallagher, who was almost a half a foot taller than him and as masculine as they get, was the gayest thing he'd ever done. But even though Ian begged night after night, Mickey still pursed his lips and shook his head sadly, refusing to give in. Ian had sighed but nodded his understanding. Saying goodbye would be hard enough without the rest of the Gallagher's there. Finally Ian had whispered his promise to come over after the party had ended.
Mickey was three sheets to the wind by the time Ian showed up, a cigarette clinched between his teeth.
"Hey, Mick," Ian whispered as he crouched in front of the ex-con. Mickey stared back at Ian with dead eyes, the threat of tears that he never shed clearly evident behind his eyelids.
"I want to be on top," Mickey growled, skipping the innocence that Ian thrived on. Ian licked his lips, throwing a glance to where Mickey's dad was unconscious in the chair in the corner. With a shaky breath he nodded, pulling Mickey off the couch and into his nearby room.
It wasn't like this was something too out of the ordinary. While Ian was normally the top in their relationship, every once in a while they would switch things up. Mickey had never been this drunk though, causing Ian to hesitate for a moment.
"Pants off Firecrotch," Mickey growled, pulling roughly at the belt of Ian's jeans. His hands were shaking and he couldn't quite focus. The alcohol he had downed was making him more sure about himself, something Ian wasn't sure about.
"Slow down," Ian mumbled, grabbing Mickey's shaky hands and helping undo the belt buckle and slip off his pants. Mickey shoved Ian onto the bed, falling onto him and reaching for the lube he kept in the top draw of his bedside table.
"Stop fighting me," Mickey growled, pulling his own pants off. He quickly lubed himself up and positioned himself behind Ian. Ian dug his nails into Mickey's arms.
"Slow. Down," he said through clinched teeth. "I don't hurt you, you don't hurt me, okay?"
Mickey growled back through equally clinched teeth, letting out a grown as he slowed down marginally. He paused at Ian's entrance, searching Ian's face before he pushed in. Ian tensed, a low groan escaping his mouth. He stayed tense as Mickey pushed all the way up to the hilt. Mickey stopped, once again searching Ian's face. He let out a grown mixed with a sigh. "Tell me when to move," he mumbled, his hands already digging into Ian's hips.
Ian squirmed, trying to get used to the fullness. This was a feeling he never could get used to and the main reason he was normally on top. He let out a shuttering breath, his eyes locked on Mickey's drunk gaze. With a deep breath he nodded, trying to keep himself from tensing up any more than he already was.
Maybe it was because Ian was so tight or Mickey was so drunk but they didn't last long. Mickey came with cry, his nails leaving scratches down Ian's back. Ian arched his back, shooting his load all over Mickey's stomach. Mickey rolled off of Ian, falling on his back panting.
After a while Ian sat up, twisting at his waist to touch the scratches on his shoulders. He hissed slightly, furrowing his brow. "That's going to go over well on inspections," he mumbled, not looking at Mickey.
"Let them think you've got all kinds of women at home," Mickey mumbled, his eyes shut. "Fuck, Don't Ask, Don't Tell's been repelled. Let them think you've got all kinds of men at home."
"I don't want all kinds of men," Ian whispered, letting his head fall back on the pillow. "I just want you."
Mickey didn't answer, instead lit another cigarette. Ian sighed, sitting up and pulling on his clothes.
"Let's go for a walk. It's stuffy in here." Ian said, his back still on Mickey. Mickey grumbled but crawled to his feet, pulling on his clothes.
They met Lip by the Alibi Room, a six pack in his hands. Mickey took one without a word as Ian shook his head. The three boys walked down the road, heading to the dugouts which were abandoned this time a night.
"Can't believe it's already time to go," Ian said, sucking heavily on a cigarette as he leaned up against the cage to the dugout. Mickey let out a shaky breath but kept his eyes on his feet.
"I could still knee cap you in your sleep tonight," Lip said, a small smile on his face as Ian laughed. "But I guess I spent enough hours tutoring your ass to get you in here that it doesn't seem right."
"I guess I should feel special," Ian grinned back. "It must be something important to keep you from fucking Karen at all hours of the night."
Mickey watched as the two brothers bantered back and forth, big smiles on their face. He just didn't get it. Ian was leaving tomorrow. He'd probably be gone the whole year. And after four of those years he'd be going to war, where he could easily die. How could they be laughing?
A few moments later Lips phone rang and he excused himself from the dugout to talk to Karen. Ian waited until he was across the field before moving in front of Mickey.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. Mickey bit his lip, refusing to meet Ian's eyes. "Talk to me."
"Don't go," Mickey said, wincing when his voice cracked. He blamed the alcohol and the heat and the fact that Ian was standing so close. "Just…just don't go." Ian let out a shaky breath, moving closer so his forehead was resting against Mickey's.
"A little late now," Ian whispered, his hand gripping Mickey's thin t-shirt. "I'll be back though. Just wait. It'll go by fast. West Point will be done before you know it."
"Yeah and then you'll go off into some Middle Eastern country and get your ass shot off. Or am I not supposed to think about that?" Ian sighed, adverting his eyes.
"It's a possibility, yeah. I mean I'm going to West Point to become an office. You've got to know it's a possibility. But you've also got to know that I'm not going to go down without a fight. I'll be back Mick. You've just got to wait."
Mickey didn't like to kiss. Even when he was with the few girls he'd been with he never like to kiss them. Blame it on the fact that his parents never hugged him when he was little or the fact that his mom died when he was fourteen. And while Ian had it worse with his mom taking off and his dad taking all his anger out on the bottle and his kids, he never seemed to get enough affection. Only when things got really bad and Ian was on the brink of an emotional breakdown did Mickey give in and kiss the redheaded boy.
Ian threaded his hands through the hair on the back of Mickey's head, pushing their lips together roughly. Mickey moaned into Ian's lips, his hands digging tightly into Ian's hips. "Don't go," he mumbled, deepening the kiss, his body shaking. Ian broke the kiss, his sad eyes watching Mickey's face.
"I'll write. We'll make this work," Mickey sighed, nodding his head and pulling back from Ian as Lip walked back in the dugout.
"Ready to head back? You've got to be up super early, kid," Ian let out a sigh, holding his hand out to help Mickey up off the bench. Mickey sighed, gripping the hand tight. It was almost painful to let go.
Mickey was normally a vocal drunk. That night was a special night; Mickey had hardly said a word. He kept quiet until they were a block away from the recruitment office.
"It's bullshit, you know. All these fucking teens signing up just to die. Like they're going to make a fucking difference by going into some warzone and shooting a bunch of people and dying. It's not going to a make a difference. All it's going to leave is a bunch of fucking dead people and a mess no one knows how to clean up after. Fucking stupid."
"Mickey," Ian mumbled, grabbing Ian's elbow to try to steer him along.
"No, and you're just one of those stupid people who think their making a fucking difference. You've been on the verge of being a ward of the state for how long now? And now you're running off to die for a cause that never cared about you."
"Mickey!" Ian growled again. Lip bit his lip, watching the two with wide eyes, not quite sure what to do. They were nearing the recruitment station at that point and Mickey paused long enough to grab a brick from the alley. "What are you doing with that?" Ian asked, his voice shaking.
"Fuck you, and fuck the goddamn military and fuck the goddamn government!"
"Mickey, stop!" Ian yelled, letting out a loud yelp when Mickey elbowed him in the lip. With one swift movement, Mickey launched the brick into the glass front of the recruitment station, shattering the window and setting off the alarms.
He fell to his knees, his face in his hands as he sobbed. He could feel Ian trying to pull him to his feet but Mickey resisted. He couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Just the thought of those green eyes and red hair made Mickey sob harder. He could hear the sirens in the distance but Mickey couldn't force himself to get up and run.
Lip reached out the grabbed Ian's arm, pulling him away from Mickey. "We've got to go, dude," he said throwing a glance over his shoulder at the blue and red lights that were speeding towards them.
"I can't leave him," Ian mumbled, trying to pull Mickey's arm again.
"Do you want to go to West Point?" Lip growled in Ian's face. Ian let out a shaky breath and then nodded. "Well then you can't get caught with the ex con who just threw a brick through the military recruitment station when the cops show up. Now come on!"
"It's going to be okay," Ian whispered in Mickey's ear, his hands digging in tight to Mickey's shoulders. "Just be good. It'll be okay. I…I love you."
Mickey cried harder when Ian said it and couldn't bring himself to say it back. He could hear Ian and Lip's footsteps as they ran. Soon the cops were on him, a big black man pulling his arms tight behind his back as the cuffed his hands together. He shuffled his feet as they led him to the car, reading him his rights.
Just before they pushed him into the car, Mickey paused. His eyes froze on Ian who stood almost hidden in the alley way across the street, Lip standing in front of him. He watched as the red head sighed and shook his head before turning his back on the scene and walking away.
Mickey wasn't sure what hurt most: knowing he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Ian or the disappointment on Ian's face. But why was that such a surprise? He was just a disappointment to everyone around him.
Ian stood at the bus stop surrounded by his family and Mandy. There was an ache in his chest at the thought of Mickey not being there.
"They've got him down at county. He's still on probation and being caught underage drinking, damaging government property, and drunken disorderly conduct didn't really help him. He'll be back in juvie before the day's over with," Mandy whispered sadly to him as she hugged him tight. Ian avoided her eyes as he nodded his head. "I'm sorry he isn't here, Ian. I know he wanted to be. This…you being gone wasn't going to be easy on him in the first place. I know he went overboard last night and I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. I get it. I probably would have been the same if the roles were reversed. Just…just tell him I'll be back. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." Mandy gave him a small smile and a small kiss on his cheek. Ian thought maybe he would miss the most; having his fake girlfriend around when he needed her. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too. Just come back soon," Mandy said, a tearful smile on her face.
Ian hugged his sisters, Debbie and Fiona sobbing into his shoulder. And he held Liam close, smiling as the small child pulled at his hair, his latest phase. Carl gave him a head nod, suddenly too cool for his family. Lip hugged him tight, patting his back several times.
"Make us proud, Gallagher. I've got shit handled back here." Lip whispered. Ian nodded, looking up into the sun to cover the fact that he was about to cry.
"Keep an eye on Mickey for me," Ian whispered, shaking his brother's hand. He let out a shuttering breath as he turned to Frank who has just stumbled up to the bus stop.
"Ian," Frank said, taking a gulp from his flask.
"Frank," Ian said, raising his chin at his father.
"…Good Luck, kid. Make us proud," Frank said, patting Ian's shoulder. Ian raised an eyebrow in surprise as Fiona cried louder.
"Will do, Frank," Ian said, shaking his father's hand. With a last deep breath, Ian threw his bag in the storage compartment under the bus. He started to climb the steps, pausing to nod at his family. Mandy gave him a small smile which made him miss Mickey even more. With a sigh he climbed the last step onto the bus. He threw himself into a seat by the window and placed his hand up against the glass. Fiona on the other side held her hand up, a small smile on her red face. For once, Ian didn't know what he was getting himself into.
AN: I hope you liked it. Please review.
