Finally, things were working out for the two of them. Mickey worked nights and weekends at the local Spoonies, and Ian worked Tesco's on weekends and the club on nights. Their shifts didn't line up perfectly, with Mickey finishing around 1am and Ian around 5am, but it still meant they had the days together. It had taken the two of them long enough to make things this good, and Ian was so grateful to only be doing Tesco's and club doubles on weekends, and not 7 days a week anymore. With both of the boys working 7 days a week, they stayed out of trouble. With the exception of a few men who got too handsy with Ian at the club some nights when Mickey was there, Mick had not beaten anyone up for weeks, and he didn't have a bruise on him. Ian was pretty sure he hadn't touched a gun since they'd moved in together, but of course Ian never asked questions. They had enough money to pay the rent and bills, send £50 home to Fiona every week (any more than that and she gave it back since Ian was no longer living there), and to be putting some away every week. The two men were both running legitimate jobs at the moment, and opened a bank account each, and, after a brief discussion, a joint account for savings. Not entirely trusting of traditional banks, Ian also opened a safety deposit box where he put his club dancing tips in, after flattening them out under the corners of the TV-table.

"Hey Mickey" Ian called from the bedroom, as he stepped out of the shower. "What's next?"

"The fuck do you mean, what's next Gallagher? We've got until 5 before I gotta start leaving for work" he strode out into the bedroom, drying his hair while his body dripped water onto the carpet. Ian walked towards him and took the towel from Mickey's hands, drying his body, leaving kisses where he went.
"Mmmmm" Mickey commented. When Ian was finished, he sat back down on the bed, as Mickey got changed.

"What I meant is, what's next for us? We're doing pretty well with money right now, and work is doing okay for both of us. Lip has moved to Ireland.."

"Fuck knows why" Mickey muttered. Ian continued;

"Debby finishes high school this year and she'll be moving away to college. Mandy is down in Kent with her man. Everyone is moving away, and I just want to know what our plan is." Mickey kept moving around the room, putting things away and straightening things up.
"Mick?"

"Yeah Ian, I heard you." Ian sat fidgeting, and was about to tell him to forget it when Mickey came towards him and sat next to Ian on the mattress.

"Look Ian, I don't have a plan. I'm still trying to believe that this is working. That you're not going to run away with some other dude any minute. No shut up, I know you don't think you will. And most of the time I don't think you will either. I don't want to ruin a good thing though- I don't want to move away just yet and have to start again with finding jobs that line up with each other. What did you want me to say, Ian?"

"I'm just asking Mickey, shit I don't know the answer either. But don't you want to move somewhere else where the cops aren't chasing some gun fight or another. Or try living somewhere else where you've never beaten anyone up, and no one knows your name? Or we could stop using rubbers and have a kid?" Ian tried to joke, and Mickey's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You.. you want to have a kid? I can't have a kid, Ian. No fucking way, I don't want to mess up some brat's life." Panic was visibly setting in, as Mickey started to pace around the room again, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down Mickey!" Ian pulled him into a hug, and held him there until stopped trying to push him away. They screwed a few times, just to calm down and Mickey lit up a cigarette, the first he'd had in days.

"You serious about the kid, Gallagher?" he said softly between puffs. Ian plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag before offering it back.

"Yeah, I am. Family is a big thing for me, Mick. You know that. I'd love to have one, and to raise it right. Without the guns, and the drunk dad, and without the 5 other kids in the house". Ian was pretty sure about it, he liked kids. He liked watching them grow up and learn.

"Yeah". Was Mickey's only reply. Ian couldn't read him, he wasn't sure what Mickey was thinking. He wasn't panicking as he was before, but his face was crumpled up a tad in thought.

"Am I not enough?" was his eventual reply. 'This again' thought Ian.

"It's not about being enough, Mick. You are the only man I want to spend the rest of my life with, the only man I want to love and screw and come home to. But I also want a kid. Think about it? Please?"

"Yeah I'll think about it" Mickey mumbled.

"What was that?" clarified Ian

"I said I'll think about! Now let's go get some burgers or something" replied Mickey, desperate to get away from the conversation for now.

After, Mickey walked to work slowly, hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He'd promised Ian he'd think about having a kid. Mickey prided himself on there being nothing that could scare him, but honestly, he was shitting himself. Nobody he knew ever planned a kid, they just came along when you forgot to buy condoms or some girl lies to you and tells you she's on the pill because she wants to settle down. He also didn't know any gay couples, let alone some with kids. He didn't know how all of this was supposed to go. And he didn't know he had to plan it either. How did they even get a kid? And whose kid would it be, it couldn't be both Ian's and his, those scientists hadn't got that part of it figured out just yet, had they? And if it wasn't his kid, would he want it? Would he want it or love it or whatever if it was his? Mickey kept thinking on it as he cleaned the bar, and served the customers. The more he thought, the less answers he came up with. He must looked very spaced out because Tricia eventually asked him

"What's going on Mickey. You're here but you're not really, are you?"

"Tricia, do you know any gay couples that have been together more than a couple of months?" he asked, knowing he could trust her and that she'd be honest.

"Lucy and Brenda have been together 5 years now, why?"

"Nah, like guys. Men. Ian's been bringing up questions about our future and kids and all that, I don't know anyone that has all that, that didn't just knock some girl up by accident and whose daddy forced them to marry. Who plans it, you know? And what are the rules?" Mickey started working on the lemons and limes, cutting wedges for the night.

"The rules Mickey? You don't think everyone else here isn't just making it up? Gay or straight, no one knows how things are going to end up. It's just about making each other happy. Do you want to have kids?" Tricia continued to stare at the figures for the month, one hundred percent concentrated on Mickey, but trying desperately to act casual. Tricia hadn't seen Mickey act out, but his FUCK U-UP knuckle tattoos and the occasional black-eye that he sported to work were hard to ignore. Not that Tricia thought Mickey would do anything to jeopardise the job he worked so hard at, but she got the feeling that if things weren't working out with Ian that he would just bail.

"I guess I've never thought about it. And I don't think I feel ready now, but I don't think I ever will. I want to do whatever I can to make Ian happy, but will we be the same after there is a kid in the mix?" Mickey wiped his brow with his arm, being careful not to get citrus in his eye.

"Look" said Tricia, looking up from the books "every heterosexual couple thinks they're going to be the ones that won't change when there is a baby. But they always do. But you know what? They often change for the better or they just change, with no better or worse. But the ones that change for the worse, are the ones who stop having sex because of the baby hormones, and that's not going to be a problem for you guys! No one is going to be moody or hormonal, no one is going to be sore from pushing a baby out. And look, it's not going to happen overnight anyway, you don't have to commit to it now, just keep thinking on it. And think, even if you don't want a kid, what do you want? What is the future that you see for yourself?"

Mickey tried to picture himself holding a kid, and he realised he could. He could see himself feeding a baby, he could see himself playing catch with his son or daughter and he could see himself reading a kid a story. But in all of those imaginary scenarios, he could only picture it, if he pictured Ian beside him.