Part Fifty-Six: Choosing Ian

"Come home," says Svetlana to me at the Alibi. I flip her off as I walk around giving my whores instructions. I know its fucking winter, but they need to be wearing fewer clothes. As I told my bitch of a wife, "They're not climbing Everest they're climbing dick."

"I'm not coming home."

"Your son needs you. His name is Yevgeny," Svetlana says. I do a double take. What the fuck kind of name is that? "He's named after my father."

"The father who sold you for $200," I say.

"It was $300 and he has good qualities too, you piece of shit. Come home, or I will tell your father that you and Orange Boy are rubbing your dicks together."

"Fuck you," I say. "I don't want to be around you. I don't want to look at you. I don't fucking want you."

I meet up with Ryan and Iggy. Iggy is boasting about the guy he helped kill. I take a cigarette from him and listen to him go on and on about it. "Are we dumping the body?" I ask, taking a hit.

"Nah, I think we're going to inflame it," Iggy says.

"You mean incinerate," Ryan says.

"That's your area of expertise isn't it? I mean, you torched your own fucking house," I say.

"Yep, I am so glad one of you committed a murder I can actually help cover up. I am fucking sick of chopping up bodies. Do we ask Mandy to help?"

"Nah, leave my sister out of this. I don't want her in trouble."

"What about your husband?" Iggy asks. Ryan starts fucking laughing.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Ian," Ryan and Iggy say at the exact same time. It's fucking eerie.

"He's not my—fuck off," I say.

"You two are basically married. You're cohabitating, you act all cute and fluffy around his family, the in-laws don't care for you, face it dude, you two are married," Ryan says.

Holy fucking shit. We do all those things.

"You are more a husband to Ian than Svetlana. It's fucking hilarious because you keep denying it, but it's so fucking true. You are straight up married to this guy and you're head over fucking heels," says Iggy.

"Speaking of, where is your husband?" Ryan asks.

"He's not my—he's with Debbie. They're looking for Fiona."

"Why are they looking for Fiona? Isn't she supposed to be the responsible one?" Ryan asks.

"She didn't come home last night. No one knows where she is. Have you seen her?"

"I wish I'd seen her. She has great tits," Iggy says. I pick up a rock and throw it at his fucking head. "Ow. Fuck you, asshole. I don't want your help with the fucking body now."

"You can't say things like that about Mickey's sister-in-law, he'll kick your ass," Ryan says. I throw a rock at him too. He dodges it.

"Seriously? Have you seen her? I want to give Ian some good news. I want to make him think I was productive today."

"Aw, you care what your husband thinks. That's so cute," Iggy says.

"I'm going to kill you in your sleep."

"I wish I could help, Micks, but I can't. I quit spying on Fiona about a month ago. I spy on V now. Isn't she having her twins?"

"You are so fucking disgusting," I say putting out my cigarette. I spot Carl Gallagher from a distance with a girl. I roll my eyes. What the fuck is that kid doing? That Bonnie is going to get him locked up in Juvie before he's thirteen.

"Mick," Iggy says waving his hand in front of my face.

"What? Stop doing that, you trying to flag down an airplane?"

"Dude, what's with you? You care about the fucking in-laws?"

"Nevermind, when are we burning the body?" I ask.

"I was hoping we'd go right now, or do you need to check in with the spouse?" Iggy says.

"Fuck off; I don't want Ian to know about this."

"I meant Svetlana," Iggy says giving me a look that says he won. I flip him off.

"Fuck that bitch," I say. I motion for those two idiots to follow me.

"I keep trying to fuck that bitch but she won't let me and I'm out of Rufinol," says Iggy. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. "Hey, Mick, is that how you got Ian to fuck you?"

"I'm going to push you in the incinerator with the body if you don't shut the fuck up."

We cross paths with Carl and Bonnie. They are hiding next to a dumpster and laughing a little nervously. What the fuck did he do?

"Mickey," Carl says, "We robbed the store over there at gun point, how awesome is that?"

"You did what?"

Ian's going to commit murder over this if he finds out. Lip will shit rocks and die, hopefully. I want to kick myself for even getting involved with this kid. Now that I know, I can't unknow.

"Then why are you still standing here?" Iggy asks.

"They don't know it was us."

"Where'd you get a gun?" I ask.

"Bonnie," says Carl. Bonnie waves at me.

"Come with me. That was a stupid fucking move," I tell Carl.

"I'm not going with you," Carl says.

"We're going to incinerate a body," Ryan whispers.

"Awesome," says Carl and Bonnie together. They tag along. We could use the kid's help. Carl's on the criminal track anyway, why not help him out? The body is hidden in the back of the car. The same car Mandy used to hit Karen Jackson.

"You left it in the backseat?" I ask slapping Iggy in the back of the head.

"He's heavy," says Iggy.

"How the fuck are we related?"

"Where are we burning it? Back yard?"

"No. We're taking him to a heavy duty furnace like the kind they cremate bodies in," says Ryan.

"Awesome," says Carl.

The brats help us carry the body to the art building in the high school. It has a giant fucking kiln to burn clay and shit in; it's as good a place as any to burn a fucking body. We shove the body inside and stand back. Carl and Bonnie are disappointed they can't see inside the thing to watch the body burn, but I promise they can help us scoop out the ashes and whatever doesn't burn.

"Why you'd kill him?" Bonnie asks.

"Bitch wouldn't pay up," says Iggy lighting a cigarette.

"What else can we burn?" Ryan asks suddenly glowing from glee.

"You're a fucking arsonist," I say.

"Good, we need one," says Iggy.

"He's an honorary Milkovich."

"I wouldn't brag," says Carl, "By the way, Ian is looking for you."

"Fuck, I forgot," I say. I put on my coat and zip up. "Fuck. I can't believe I forgot."

"What'd you forget?" Ryan asks.

I flip him off. No way am I telling them it's the anniversary of the first time Ian and I fucked. They wouldn't understand. I really thought Ian would have canceled our plans in light of Fiona's disappearance.

I run back to the Gallagher house at full speed. I look at my watch, I have fifteen minutes to get dressed and get to the restaurant. Fuck. I am going at full fucking speed. I catch the bus before it leaves and I arrive two minutes late. Ian is sitting at the table alone trying to fold the napkin into what appears to be an AK-47.

"You're late," says Ian without looking at me.

"By two minutes," I say taking the seat across from him.

"I didn't think you'd come," Ian says.

"I was helping Iggy with something," I say picking up my menu.

"Because that's more important?"

"No, because he asked for my help, then Carl reminded me—" I probably shouldn't have said that.

"Oh, so Carl had to remind you. Fuck you, Mickey," Ian says getting up. I grab his hand.

"Let's just have dinner. I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

Ian considers it for a moment then sits down. He looks nice. I'm such an ass. He took the time to shower, and fix his hair in the way I like it to lay. He is wearing that cologne I like and he's wearing plaid. He made himself look nice and I look like shit.

"You look nice," I tell him.

"So do you," Ian says.

He's lying, but I accept it.

The waiter comes to our table and my jaw hits the floor. Isaac. In all the expensive restaurants in all of Chicago he has to be a waiter in mine? Fuck my life. I look back and forth from Ian to Isaac. Their resemblance is fucking ridiculous.

"Mickey," says Isaac.

"Fuck," I whisper. Ian's attention has been caught and he leans in. He's look at me with the smug look he used to give me all the time. "I will have the fucking steak."

"How would you like it?" He asks with a suggestive tone. Is it hot in here?

"Medium well. Ian, what would you like?"

"I'll have the shrimp plate," Ian says. Isaac turns to Ian. They're faces turn white when they realize how much alike they look. "Bring us wine and lots of it."

"Beer for me," I say.

When Isaac walks away Ian folds his arms across his chest. I fucked up. Oh shit. Fuck. Damn.

"Where you'd meet our waiter?" Ian asks.

"We met at a club in Indiana."

"You fucked him?"

I don't respond. Ian throws his napkin gun down on the table and gets up. I excuse myself and let the waiters know I'm coming back. I chase after Ian before he reaches the door.

"Did you enjoy it?" Ian asks.

"Hold the fuck on. You fucked guys when you were gone. I'm not mad about those."

"You would be if I told you one of them was Ned," Ian says.

I'm kicking his ass again.

"I don't care right now," I lie. He sees through that. "Okay, I do, but Isaac never meant anything to me. I only fucked him because he looks like you."

I can't get this right. Suddenly I hear music, classical music. Ian looks at me. No. No fucking way. He takes my hand and leads me back toward our table. A few couples are dancing like it's the 19 fucking 40s. Ian nods towards the dance floor.

"What about our food?" I ask.

"They have to cook it."

Ian takes my hand awkwardly. He has huge fucking hands. I follow his lead. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, but he's smiling so I keep doing it. I will fucking guess if I have to. I look at the men in the other pairs dancing and try to copy them, but Ian wants his eyes on me.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, "I don't want to ruin our anniversary."

"I'm sorry too."

Ian likes this romantic bull shit. I should have brought flowers for him. Fuck. I'm so fucking bad at this. I should ask Debbie for help. She knows her brother.

I clear my throat, "I like the way you look in this light. Your hair looks like fire." I try to be poetic. Ian grins in a way that makes my knees buckle. I can feel a blush coming and I force it back. I do not blush.

When the music ends Ian and I return to our seats. I don't immediately sit down. I ask Ian to sit while I chase after a waiter. I track down Isaac. "I need a flower or something."

"What?"

"I need a fucking flower to give Ian. Do you have anything? I want it brought to the table. Maybe a box of Reese's Pieces."

"Are you serious?" Isaac asks.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I can try."

"Bring them to my table. For Ian Gallagher."

I return to my seat. A couple and their child walk by our table and scoff. They begin to make comments, "Ew, queers. They shouldn't be allowed a place like this. I'm calling the manager."

"Hey, lady, your husband gets hand jobs from Russian whores," I holler recognizing that asshole from the Rub 'N' Tug. When he doesn't own up to it she storms out of the restaurant.

"Did you have to do that?"

"Yes," I say. Ian is smiling. I like it when he's smiling.

"Are you Ian Gallagher?" Isaac asks returning to our table with a bouquet of fucking roses.

"I am," says Ian.

"These are from your handsome young date," Isaac says winking at me. He puts a giant box of Reese's Pieces down too. I nod thanks. Isaac winks and leaves.

"You are definitely sleeping in my bed tonight," Ian says.

"No," I say.

I begin by telling Ian about my day. I tell him about the body we burned, and about Carl, and how Iggy and Ryan were teasing me about him being my husband. Ian laughs loudly at the last one. After dinner Ian and I leave. His mood seems have changed. He's sulking.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask.

"I just thought maybe since it was our anniversary you would say it."

"Say what?"

"That you love me." I didn't see that coming. I fucking should have. If I had, I could have prepared a counterattack. "It's okay. I am not mad."

And his mood shifts again when he sees a cat on the sidewalk. He kneels down to pet it. I am mentally kicking myself for not preparing for that particular part of dating. Going on real dates with Ian is not something I'm comfortable with. I'm not comfortable letting this many people think I'm gay. I'm not comfortable being out in public yet. But I do this shit to keep Ian happy. If he's happy he'll stay.

"Aw, you're so cute," Ian is talking to the cat. The cat seems to be in love with him already. Don't get attached, Cat. He's mine.

"Aren't you cold?" I finally notice he's not wearing a jacket. How the fuck is he not freezing?

"I'm fine," Ian says. I take mine off and hand it to him. He stands up and looks at me. I avoid looking at him. "Won't you be cold?"

"Nah, I was warm all day," I say.

Ian hands me his bouquet of flowers to hold while he puts on my jacket. It's a little small on him but he doesn't complain. I hand the flowers back. We walk back to the Gallagher house side by side. I rub against Ian once or twice on the walk. He beams brightly at me.

The house is quiet when we come in. Ian goes to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. I follow him. He is talking a mile a minute about something he wants to do. I think it's become an interpretive dancer or some shit, I'm not sure.

I look around to make sure we're fully alone and I approach him from behind. I put my arms around his waist and press my head into his back. He feels wonderful.

"Let's go to bed," I whisper into his back.

"Let's do something first," Ian says.

"Like what?"

"Take a sexy shower," Ian says.

I raise an eye brow, then we race each other upstairs.