Based on a prompt: The
Gallagher’s and/or Ball’s walk in on Mickey trying to propose to Ian.
Mickey was acting weird, weirder than normal, and it hadn’t
gone unnoticed by Ian.
He watched him get flustered by every little thing and flit
about the place like he couldn’t remember where he was going or what he was
doing. If Ian didn’t find it completely adorable he might have pulled him over
sooner, but Mickey’s red cheeks and his hair hanging down over his brow was a
Ian sat on the couch, flicking through channels just trying
to find anything half decent to watch when Mickey came and sat down next to
him. He looked up and smiled before turning back to the TV and Mickey cleared
his throat a little.
“I uh, I got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about,” he said
“So go on, I’m listening,” Ian said, eyes still on the
“Can you turn that thing off for a sec?” he said.
“I can listen to you and watch this it’s not big ― hey!” he
shouted as Mickey snatched the remote from his hands and turned the TV off,
throwing the remote over to the armchair. “Was that really necessary?”
“Can you shut the fuck up for a minute?” Mickey said and Ian
rolled his eyes a little.
“Okay, you have my full attention, what is it?” he asked.
Mickey exhaled heavily, and Ian knew he had a stupid smile
on his face because Mickey just looked so nervous.
“I wanna… I mean I know this kinda crap is important to you, so I want―” he started, getting cut
off by Debbie as she walked down the stairs.
“Hey have either of you seen my sneakers? I swear I left
them in my room but I can’t find them,” she said. “I need them for training.”
Mickey grumbled and gave her a glare but Ian just shrugged.
“Haven’t seen ‘em Debs,” he said. “You tried the back yard?”
“Yeah I’ll do that now, thanks,” she said, wandering out
through the kitchen.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ian asked.
“I was just trying to say that I don’t… I mean you give a
shit about a lot of things that never fuckin’ meant anything to me, and I don’t
fucking get it, well I didn’t get it,
not really… not until―” he was cut off again when the door burst open and Liam
came running in, calling out Ian’s name over and over and climbing over the
side of the couch to get to him.
“Ian! Ian! Ian!” he squealed and Ian just laughed as he
lifted him up and gave him a squeeze.
“Hey little guy!” he grinned and this time Mickey’s
grumbling and groaning was audible and Ian gave him a look.
“Hey!” Fiona said from the doorway. “Don’t mind him he’s had
way too much sugar. Come on, let your
brother get back to… not watching TV?
Jesus, take it upstairs maybe…”
“We weren’t…” Ian shook his head a little. “We’re just
“Fucking trying to…” Mickey mumbled as Fiona made her way
into the kitchen, tapping Liam on the shoulder as she did.
Ian kissed him on the head before letting him go and he ran
off after Fiona.
“Alright go on,” he said.
“I’m trying to fucking say that you and me… we’ve been
through some shit and―” he stopped when Liam ran in and threw himself over
Mickey’s knees, giggling like mad.
Mickey raised an eyebrow and Ian just laughed.
“What’s he doing?” Mickey asked.
“Being a kid, I don’t know,” he replied.
“Liam!” Fiona called and he let out a giant sigh.
“Okay,” he said,
following her voice to the kitchen and dragging his arms behind him.
“Kids are fucking weird,” Mickey said. “Can we go outside or
something, it’s like a fucking clown car in this place.”
Ian nodded and the two got up to head out to the backyard,
passing Debbie who was holding up her shoes with a smile.
There were still a couple of lawn chairs set up on the grass
that they sat down in and Ian just gave him a warm smile, kicking Mickey’s foot
“Is that better now?” he asked.
“You think it’s funny?” Mickey asked.
“Oh come on, wait what’s going on?” Ian said with worry
lacing his voice.
“Am I allowed to wanna say something to you and not the
whole fucking Brady Bunch?”
“Alright, so what do you want to say?”
“That I fucking love you and I don’t wanna fucking lose you!”
he said and Ian was a little taken aback.
“I love you too,” he said quietly. “What does that have to
“I don’t wanna lose you,” he repeated. “And I don’t get why
you had to make a big fucking deal when I got hitched but I don’t know, maybe I
know what you were talkin’ about now.”
“Are you saying what I think you are?”
“I’m sayin’ I don’t wanna lose you but I ain’t good at
this,” he said, looking up and into Ian’s eyes. “I don’t do big fucking
“Oh yeah, doesn’t do big gestures,” Kev said as he came
through the back with a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Coming from the dude who
came out to a whole bunch of drunk assholes and trashed my bar.”
Mickey looked like he was about to snap as he turned slowly
“Do you fucking mind?” he snapped.
“Well excuse me, am I interrupting a tea party or
something?” he said.
“Actually I think you were interrupting a proposal,” Ian
said quietly just as Fiona and Debbie came to the door to meet Kev.
“You what?” Fiona said and Debbie was just looking from one
to another with wide eyes.
“Jesus, can’t anyone get a little privacy around here?”
Mickey yelled, standing up and throwing his hands in the air.
The three of them on the porch seemed to look a little
sheepish and Fiona waved Kev inside, shooting Ian a little smile before
dragging Debbie along with them.
“That was what you were doing, right?” Ian asked, looking
back at Mickey. “I mean I don’t want to assume anything but, that is what you were doing?”
Ian’s lips pulled even tighter as the smile spread over his
“All of that, ‘I don’t wanna lose you’, ‘I didn’t understand
it’, ‘I love you’,” he said, the
cockiness creeping onto his features. “That was all your way of asking me to
Mickey narrowed his eyes at him. “Well I don’t have a
“Because I ain’t getting’ down on one knee.”
“Well what kind of proposal is this?”
“It’s the fucking good and bad, sickness and health kind of
bullshit that you always fucking wanted! Is that okay? That enough for you or
you want a ring on your fat fucking―”
Ian silenced Mickey’s nervous ranting with his lips, lunging
in and catching them with his own, hands cupping the sides of his face.
His lips parted and Mickey’s along in time, a pattern that
they’d long since perfected. Mickey closed his eyes and reached around to pull
Ian’s hips into him. His fingers slid gently across the thin material on his
back and dipped under it until they were caressing his skin and Ian’s fingers
were moving into his hair.
He tightened his grip a little, pulling Mickey back and
making him let out an annoyed grunt.
“That was a yes, in case you were wondering,” he said. “And
my fingers aren’t fat so you can quit being lazy and go steal us a set of
Mickey huffed out noisily but smiled. “Oh that was your yes, huh?”
“What, not good enough for you?” Ian asked.
“Wanna go to my place? Probably less people to invade our
fucking privacy,” Mickey grinned.
“Let’s go,” he said and they disentangled themselves from
one another, at least until they made it to the Milkovich house.