Part Four: A Really Bad Idea or a Good One?

Iggy did not anticipate his plan backfiring. But it did, right in his face. That was how he ended up with Ian Gallagher in his bedroom in the middle of the night. Iggy wanted to blame Lip for this one, but he couldn't. It was on him. Every last bit was his fault.

The plan was simple: Keep giving Ian secret admirer gifts from Mickey, but weren't really from Mickey. Iggy and Lip did this every day for a week. And on Wednesday Ian saw Iggy leave a mixed CD, that Mickey really did make, under Ian's pillow. The "secret admirer" excuse could no longer work.

The next time Ian caught Iggy was worse. Iggy had a dozen long stemmed white roses sent to Ian at school with a love letter attached, that Lip paid Ethel to write. Luckily she didn't ask too many questions. She seemed happy to do it.

That was when Ian cornered Iggy with his big green eyes shining bright, and a love struck expression his face. Iggy was creeped out. Not that Ian meant any harm. He completely misread the signals and Iggy was a huge idiot who should have listened to Lip.

"Ian, you have the wrong idea," Iggy whispered when Ian began to undress.

"What?" Ian asked.

"I'm not the one who's in love with you."

"Then who is? I know you know. You have to tell me, Iggy."

"I can't. He has to do it."

Ian gave up. He sat down on Iggy's bed and sighed. That was easier than I thought. But it wasn't over. Ian determinedly pressed on. He pushed Iggy back on his back. I'm going to have to get fucking rough with this kid, aren't I?

And Iggy did. Using force against Lip was one thing. 99% of the time Lip fucking deserved it, but Ian was different. He was innocent. He reminded Iggy of a puppy.

"Hey, Iggy, I need to borrow—" Mickey asked suddenly barging into Iggy's room without knocking. Mickey saw Iggy with Ian in a choke hold until the red head passed out. Iggy had to admit that he was in a very incriminating position that he had no explanation for unless he wanted to tell Mickey the truth and let him in on it, or lie through his teeth.

Iggy released the red head who had passed out in his arms. He didn't lay him down gently and Iggy noticed Mickey flinch.

"Careful," Mickey said automatically, "If he gets hurt Fiona might call the police." Iggy accepted that. It was about as much as he would get out of Mickey for the time being. "What the fuck is going on anyway? Why is Gallagher in your room?"

He tried to fuck me. That was the honest answer, but Iggy refused to give it. He put a pillow under Ian's head and bull-shitted his way out of it. "I beat the shit out of Lip and this fucking dumb ass thought he could out do me if he broke in and attacked me in the middle of the night."

"The window's not broken," Mickey said.

"He came in the fucking door. He found Mandy's key."

"Fuck," said Mickey, never once taking his eyes off Ian Gallagher's unconscious form. After a few minutes of Ian not waking up Mickey knelt beside him. "Jesus, fuck, he's out cold. What the fuck should we do with him?"

It was as if a light bulb came on above's Iggy's head. This was the perfect opportunity for Mickey to rescue Ian. Iggy could put Mickey in a place to be Ian's hero and Ian would transfer his affection onto him. Iggy was almost grinning in spite of himself.

Even fucking Lip would like this one.

"Why don't we put him to bed on the couch in your room?" Iggy asked.

Mickey didn't argue. He bride carried Ian back to his room. Iggy held all the doors open. He offered to help Mickey carry Ian, but Mickey said he could do it. Iggy knew that if the room wasn't dark he'd probably see that Mickey was blushing.

Mickey laid Ian down on his bed and covered him with a blanket. Iggy rolled his eyes. The sight was disgustingly adorable and Mickey was oddly very tender. Mickey grabbed a spare pillow and laid down on the couch facing the sleeping red head.

Iggy left the boys to it. He knew Mickey's room was the safest place in their house for Ian to be, except perhaps with Mandy, but they didn't want to involve her in this yet, even though Lip had brought once.

Iggy sat on his own bed and saw the phone he had stolen from some kid a on a bus light up. It was Lip texting him asking about Ian. Iggy filled Lip in on everything that had gone down. Lip was not okay with his younger brother sleeping in the Milkovich, and in so many ways Iggy didn't blame him. But he had the kid's back.

The morning was interesting. Iggy got up especially early to see how Ian was doing in Mickey's room. But he didn't need to worry. Mickey was leaning against the counter in the kitchen drinking coffee and the little red head was at the table eating eggs, his hair messy from sleep, but he was smiling.

"Mickey cooked me eggs," Ian said happily.

"Where're my eggs," Iggy asked when he scanned the kitchen.

"In the fridge," Mickey said. Iggy looked in and saw the carton of eggs. Iggy flipped Mickey off. Mickey happily returned it. "Make your own fucking eggs. I'm not your wife."

Interesting, since you made them for your boyfriend-to-be.

Iggy called this one a success. Mickey had not only taken care of the Gallagher kid, but he cooked for him. Iggy watched Mickey stare at Ian as he finished his eggs. When Mickey noticed that Iggy had caught him he shook his head, frowned, and grabbed the plate from Ian just as the kid put his fork down.

"Thanks, Mickey. They were delicious. I should go," Ian said, patting Mickey on the hand. Ian left. But Iggy didn't fail to notice that Mickey was mentally collapsing from the weight of Ian touching him. Mickey's knees wobbled, but he stabled himself.

"Fuck," Mickey whispered, dropped Ian's plate, and walked to his room.

So that happened.