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“Mickey… Mickey… Mickey… Mickey!”
He looks up from his textbook, eyes stinging. Liza is standing over him with her hands crossed over her chest. He gestures, irritated, for her to go on.
“I said, your boyfriend is blowing up my phone. I swear, you get so involved in your fucking homework.”
“My what?”
“Ugh, are we gonna do this every time? Ian. Ian is blowing up my phone.”
“What does he want?” He asks, wiping an exhausted hand down his face.
“He said you aren’t answering.”
“Figured he’d get the hint. I’m trying to do homework.”
“Tell him that!” She huffs and lays back down in her bed. He’s annoyed that she’s pulled him from homework. He has a B in 293 and can’t afford to let it slip any further.
He slides his phone across his desk and looks at the messages he’s missed.
I’m starving
Hello? I said I’m starving
I’m in the mood for pizza
Rapid Fire?
Mickey
Please text me back before I die of starvation
I’m texting Liza
She won’t answer
Okay now I’m calling Liza
Mickey huffs in annoyance and types out a quick response.
You can eat without me ya know
So he lives!! The response is instant and Mickey has to fight a smile from taking over his face.
Yes I know I can but I like eating with you
I’m doing homework. Eat with someone else you lonely bitch
I’m not lonely
My cock is lonely
Sorry you said you’re doing homework that wasn’t appropriate
Mickey sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and grazes his teeth along it.
All you ever want to do is eat and fuck
Yeah so I’m perfect for you. Ian has a point. All Mickey wants to do is eat and fuck. And homework. Homework so he never has to go back home.
He weighs his options. He could either get some free pizza and dick, or he could stay here and tear his hair out over fucking statistics.
Yeah the choice is pretty simple.
Meet you at Rapid Fire
Mickey stands from his desk and grabs his keys off the hook he and Liza installed next to their door.
“You’re definitely a good little omega. Alpha says run you say how fast.” Liza goads him, sticking her tongue out for good measure. He knows she’s just jealous. She’d been eyeing Ian’s donkey dick long before Mickey. She had her sights set on him before she even got to college. It at least took him a hockey game or two.
It’s been months since that morning where he was forced to admit Ian Gallagher wasn’t leaving his system anytime soon. Since then he and Ian have been inseparable—at least, that’s how Liza describes it. Mickey can’t see it. It’s colder, now, in the middle November, and Ian is busy with hockey, but he always makes time for Mickey.
The walk to Rapid Fire is long. Way too fucking long. He knows he could take the bus but he’s too proud to take it when there isn’t snow on the ground. He’s walked a lot farther than this in a lot worse weather in Chicago. He passes the Chipotle before he sees Ian standing out from the crowd. Uptown is packed, as always on Thursdays, but Mickey swears Ian stands out from the rest. He fucking glows and it’s fucking annoying. He’s so bright and shiny and the world was made for him.
Ian’s face breaks into that goofy grin Mickey knows now is reserved for him. He raises his hand in a wave or maybe a motion to hurry up, he isn’t sure. Mickey huffs but picks up the pace, maneuvering in between sorority girl after sorority girl.
Ian wraps his arm around Mickey’s shoulders and pulls him close, planting a kiss on the top of his head. Okay, so maybe some things have changed since that wretched day. Like Ian being full of PDA.
Mickey shoves Ian off of him but not before practically preening under the attention. He really has to fight his stupid fucking omega from acting out all the time. Ian isn’t fazed by Mickey’s abrasiveness. Instead, he opens the door for Mickey and then follows him inside.
The smells overwhelm him and Mickey glances up to read the menu. “I missed you.” Ian murmurs so no one else in line can hear.
“You saw me this morning before you left for your run.” Mickey disagrees and shakes his head. He hopes Ian will shut up so he can focus on figuring out what he wants. Should he just get his usual?
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. Besides, hearing you grumble something out as I leave is hardly seeing you.” Ian is silent here for a second before adding, “Are you saying you didn’t miss me?”
It has become a thing for Ian to try and get Mickey to confess the most embarrassing and sickening things he can. He’s been trying for days to get Mickey to say he misses him. Which Mickey isn’t even sure of anyway, so why would he say it?
“I’m saying how can I miss you when we see each other every day?” Mickey asks, glaring up at Ian.
“The same way I miss you? I don’t know. I hate going even a minute without you.” He confesses, staring Mickey intently. He isn’t sure how Ian isn’t incredibly embarrassed to say things like that. How he doesn’t cringe immediately. How he doesn’t throw up in his mouth.
“Fuck, man. How do you say that girly shit?”
Ian laughs and rubs his hand down Mickey’s back. This is another Ian thing he’s been doing. Constantly having to touch Mickey.
They each get up to the register and order their own individual pizzas. Ian leads them to a booth and they both sit down to eat. The pizza is good. Really fucking good. They don’t speak much, both stuffing their faces, when someone walks up to them.
“Hey Ian!” Mickey looks up to see an omega standing in front of them. He’s tall, like Ian, but lanky as a mother fucker. All limbs and no substance.
Ian glances up at the guy and smiles, “Hey Corey. How are ya? I haven’t seen you all semester.”
The kid, Corey, smiles and shrugs, “I, uh, have been focused on starting the semester off right.”
Ian nods and looks like he’s pretty much over the whole conversation. “Who’s this?” Corey asks, nodding at Mickey.
Mickey scoffs, feeling affronted that he couldn’t address Mickey directly. “I’m Mickey.” He says pointedly, turning the kid’s attention back to him.
“Hey Mickey, I’m Corey.”
“Yeah. How do you two know each other?” He asks around a mouthful of pizza. Ian looks at him guiltily and Mickey thinks he knows the answer. “Ohhhhh,” He drags out and smirks, irritated, at Ian. “This your boyfriend?” He’s being casual. Super casual. So casual. There is no one more casual and cool and collected than Mickey Milkovich.
Ian kicks his shin from under the table. Hard. Mickey sputters and thinks it’s gonna leave a bruise. “No.” Ian insists, maybe a little too forcefully seeing as how Corey seems to recoil. “Corey is just… a friend.” Ian hesitates and that’s enough for Mickey.
“Nah it’s cool. Not my business.” He shrugs and focuses back on his pizza. He’s lost his appetite, he thinks.
“Uh…” Corey trails off and glances between the two of them. “You’re… you guys are… dating, right?” Mickey’s head shoots up and he glares, scoffing. He’s about to answer when Corey goes on, “That’s what people are saying. That you got a boyfriend.” Addressing Ian now who is sending death glares Mickey’s way.
“Yes. Yes we are.” Ian states. Mickey wants to disagree. Almost does disagree. But Ian cuts him off, “Sorry, Corey. Mickey can be a dick.” Mickey stands up at that. He grabs his pizza box, slides out of the booth and around Corey, and heads for the door.
“Great catching up with you!” He hears Ian call as he knows the alpha comes rushing after him. Mickey doesn’t stop to address Ian. Doesn’t acknowledge him or the fact that he’s easily fallen in step with him. “What’s got you in such a pissy mood? You can’t keep refusing to call yourself my boyfriend.”
“Fuck off, Gallagher. It’s got nothing to do with you calling me your bitch. It’s got to do with you acting like I’m your bitch.”
“What are you on about?”
He can’t believe Ian can be such an idiot. He stays silent. Despite being pissed at Ian, he still crosses the street and heads for Theta Chi.
“Mickey.” Ian grips his bicep and tugs him sharply, stopping him in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. “Boyfriends talk to each other when they’re upset.”
Another Ian thing. He’s been insisting on teaching Mickey how to be a proper boyfriend.
“I don’t appreciate being lied to and then apologized for.” Mickey crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on his heels, away from Ian.
“Who lied?”
“You.” He replies simply.
“About what?”
“Corey was all moony-eyed over you. Was clearly a jealous lover.”
“The only jealous lover I see is you.” Ian states plainly and crosses his arms in a mirroring manner.
“Fuck off. We’re talking about you and Princess Limbs.”
“Princess Limbs?”
“Yeah that dude was all limbs. Too lanky for my taste, but good for you I guess.”
Ian sighs and exasperatedly runs a hand through his hair. He reaches out and pulls Mickey into him. He plants a kiss on his head before letting him go, apparently sensing Mickey was one second away from complete meltdown.
“Corey and I fucked for a couple months. I helped him through a heat, he got too attached, I told him I wasn’t interested in him like that. We haven’t really seen each other since.” Ian cocks an eyebrow at him in an you happy move.
“Okay. And apologizing for me?”
“I’m sorry for talking about you like you weren’t there. You are my equal and I know that. It won’t happen again.”
An additional Ian thing is acknowledging and asserting that he knows Mickey is his partner, not his bitch. It was their first big blowout after Ian insisted on speaking for Mickey one night at a frat party. Mickey specifically stated this thing wouldn’t work out if Ian continued treating him like a pet. Ian decided to take it upon himself to communicate to him every chance he got that he would work on it.
“Can we go back to my place and fuck now?”
Mickey relents and they walk back together, shoulders bumping every once in a while, as Ian can’t resist touching him.
--
The next morning Mickey and Ian walk to class together. Ian had spent the morning lavishly making love—Ian’s words, not his—to him and then cooking him breakfast in the communal kitchen. Kody—Liza’s… boyfriend? Fuck buddy?—walked in on their little domestic moment, commenting on how the two were inseparable. It made Mickey long for privacy.
“You need your own place, man.” He observes.
Ian looks over at him, shocked. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You got plenty of cash to burn. Drop the frat and spend that money on rent instead.”
“Those guys are my friends, Mick, not dropping them anytime soon. But I wouldn’t mind more privacy.” He asserts. Mick was another new development. It was the only “pet name” Mickey would allow. Ian tried calling him baby once. Mickey nearly threw up. Nearly threw up and then nearly socked him in the face.
“Okay, okay, fine, the frat boys stay.” Mickey has only met a handful of the brothers. He doesn’t remember their names. Doesn’t bother because they’re nothing but empty faces to him.
Ian laughs easily. Not just now but in general. He’s always giggling about something. For a bipolar motherfucker he’s awfully happy.
Of course, Mickey now knows that isn’t a fair statement. Ian is on medication, which evens him out, mitigating the effects of a depressive episode. Ian is naturally good natured, especially when he’s getting his dick wet. Especially when Mickey sucks him off. Ian laughs extra easily after that.
“I really like you, you know that?” Ian smiles over at him as they walk into the building.
“I figured since you sling your dick into me pretty often.”
“Nah, more than that. More than you’re an easy hole for me. You’re funny. And smart. And caring, as much as you hate it.”
“Don’t hate it, just ain’t it.” Mickey swipes a finger across his nose. And he means it. He knows how Ian is caring. How Ian shows him he cares. He doesn’t know how he shows Ian that. Or if he even does care. Well, he does care, he just… isn’t sure to what extent.
“Fuck off.” Ian chuckles and bumps into him. “You are. You just got jealous over some guy I fucked.”
“Fuck you I wasn’t jealous.”
“What were you, then?” Ian asks as they shove open the door to the psychology building.
“I don’t know.” He answers honestly. He doesn’t know.
“Well, I know. You were jealous. You were jealous because you want me all to yourself. Because I promised to be yours and you—stop, don’t look at me like that,” Mickey is glaring at Ian sharply, “you promised to be mine. I won’t fuck around on you, Mickey.”
“First of all, I promised jack shit. Second of all, I wouldn’t get jealous over your ass.”
Ian’s jaw juts out as they walk into the lecture hall. He doesn’t bother to wait for Mickey, rather walking down the stairs and to their seats. Mickey scoffs and follows him.
They don’t talk for the rest of class, which is unusual for them. Typically, they pass teasing insults back and forth during lecture and side glances promising to fuck later. Mickey can tell Ian is pissed, but he doesn’t know over what. Nothing was unusual. Except that they ran into that kid yesterday at Rapid Fire. So maybe that’s it, then. He’s missing his old fling.
Fuck that, Mickey thinks, if he wants to fuck someone else why doesn’t he just say so?
After class ends, Ian still waits around for Mickey. He packs his things up slowly and slings his backpack over his shoulder. Mickey doesn’t waste any time getting his shit together. He slides out of his desk and walks around Ian who follows.
“Don’t know why you’re so mad at me, man.” Mickey says after a moment of awkward silence.
“How can you not know?” Ian bites back, glaring at him.
“Jeez, man. You could always just tell me.”
Ian sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re… so resistant. We’ve been seeing each other for weeks and just when I think you’re finally comfortable, you pull some shit like this.”
“Like what, Ian?” He’s getting frustrated now. What does he even mean by that? He’s resistant?
“Like… like getting jealous over some other omega but being too fucking scared to admit it.”
“Who’s scared?” He balks and shoves open the door. Outside in the cold, Mickey realizes it’s going to snow. Maybe not yet, but soon.
“You are! You’re so fucking terrified of commitment that anytime anyone calls me your boyfriend you pretend you’ve forgotten! You refuse to come to my games because you don’t want people to know.”
“People know! Who doesn’t know? That kid yesterday knew.” Mickey is fucking freezing. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and realizes that, despite their fight, Ian is leading Mickey back to his place.
“So why won’t you come to my games?”
Mickey feels hot at the question. He bites his bottom lip and stays silent.
“See? It’s because you’re scared!”
“That’s not it at all.” He asserts, “It’s because I don’t want to hear shit from all the omegas who come just see you play. They’re always like oh Ian Gallagher is so hot I wanna sit on his face and have him pound the shit out of me.” Mickey imitates and moves his head so he doesn’t see Ian’s face.
Ian is silent for a moment before he laughs, “You’re so fucking jealous. You are such a jealous omega.”
Mickey grinds his teeth to keep from denying it. Too late now, he thinks. “Whatever.” He mumbles, “Are we good now, Gallagher?”
Ian wraps an arm around him and pulls him in, “We’re good. But you know you have to come to my games now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off.”
--
“God, you always come back stinking.” Liza complains and holds her nose.
“Fuck you too.” Mickey replies, holding up his middle finger.
“You’re so in love it’s sickening.”
Mickey scoffs. Love? No, he thinks, no way.
Mickey’s phone vibrates and it reminds him why he’s here.
Hurry up, I miss you.
“I’m just picking up some clothes. Oh, also, we’re going to the game this Saturday.”
“You’re telling me what I’m doing now?” Liza raises an eyebrow at him over her laptop.
“You’re telling me you don’t wanna watch a bunch of alphas ram into each other?”
Mickey grins when he sees her roll her eyes and say, “Fine. But you have to tell Olivia and Nina.”
“Deal.” He begins shoveling clothes into his backpack and then heads for the door.
“When are you gonna hang out with us?” Liza’s voice stops him.
He turns around and looks at her. She is typing away, appearing nonplussed, but Mickey wonders if that’s the truth. “Saturday.” He asserts.
“Yeah, to watch your boyfriend play. When will you actually hang out with us?” She asks again.
“Let’s go to a party this weekend, then, bitch. No alphas, just us.”
“Your alpha gonna be okay with that?” She looks up and raises her eyebrow at him. He sighs and crosses his arms.
“I’m no one’s bitch, Liza.”
She smirks, “Except Ian’s.”
“Fuck off, I’m not.”
“You follow him around like a lost little puppy. When are you gonna bite the bullet?”
“What the fuck are you on about?” He shakes his head, amused.
“When are you two just gonna mate?”
That question shocks his system. Mate? No way. Never, he thinks, because that’s the truth. He’d sooner hack off his own arm than mate. “Never.” He asserts, “I’ll see you in a couple days.”
“Whatever you say.” He hears her croon as the door shuts behind him.
When he arrives at Ian’s he lets himself in. There’s an alpha sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some hockey game on the tv. He looks up as the door closes and smiles, “Hey Mickey.” Mickey can’t remember the guy’s name, but he just nods and heads up the stairs.
He doesn’t even get to open the door, it swings open and Ian is grinning at him.
“Don’t say some gay shit right now.” Mickey warns him as Ian opens his mouth.
“Fuck you.” Ian laughs out and tugs him into the room. “What did Liza say about the game?”
“You should be more concerned with getting on me and less concerned about my roommate.” Mickey says as he swings his backpack into a corner and begins unbuttoning his pants. He raises his eyebrows at Ian who laughs easily.
“I’ll fuck you, calm down. I just wanna know what she said.” But he still begins undressing.
“She said that’s fine. Now fuck me, Gallagher.”
“Ian,” He’s reminded.
“Fuck me, Ian.” With another laugh, Ian does just that.
--
“Fuck, this place is packed.” Olivia says with a laugh as they enter the stadium. She and Nina are walking with arms intertwined so they don’t lose on another. Liza is hooked onto Mickey’s arm for the same reason. He agrees that it’s too fucking packed.
“Let’s just find our seats.” Ian had given him the tickets earlier that morning. He explained that they’d be up against the glass. Mickey has been looking forward to it, as much as he hates to admit it. He hasn’t seen Ian play since last year.
They form a single file line to make it through the crowd easily and find their way to their seats. Mickey shrugs off his jacket and sits down, anxious to see Ian play. “You excited?” Nina asks, reaching out to touch his knee.
He shrugs, “I guess.”
“Shut up. Yes, he’s excited.” Liza answers for him and shoots him a glare. “I don’t know how Ian can stand you.”
“Yeah? And I do know why you can’t keep a steady boyfriend.”
“Fuck you, asshole. I don’t want a boyfriend.” She shoves him and he snickers. She’s too easy to rile up.
“Alright, alright you two. Shut the fuck up.” Nina smacks both of them, “Don’t make me sit between you.”
The game started during their argument and Mickey watches as Ian skates onto the ice. His heart jumps to his throat as he hears, “Fuck, he is so hot.” From behind him. He doesn’t need to hear the name to know who they’re talking about.
Olivia looks over at him, seemingly having heard the comment too. She smiles apologetically at him and he looks away quickly. He doesn’t care.
Suddenly, he’s crawling out of his skin, desperate to get out of there. He tries his best to focus on the game, on Ian, on his… boyfriend. But all he can hear from all around him are the gaggle of omegas desperate for Ian’s cock.
“Doesn’t he have an omega?” He hears one girl ask.
“So? You’ve never heard of cheating?” The other omega asks, her voice full of malice.
It makes Mickey sick to his stomach. He’s reeling. Everyone in the room wants to fuck Ian. At one point, Liza wanted to fuck Ian. He tries to shake out of it. Tries to go to the bathroom and splash water on his face and focus. But it’s everywhere. He can’t escape it.
Halfway through, Liza grabs his hand and squeezes, “Chill out.” She whispers but doesn’t let go. He tries not to squeeze her hand. He doesn’t want to crush it.
It was easier when Mickey was one of those omegas. When he fit in with the masses. When he felt safe enough, from a far distance enough, to say that he wanted Ian to bang his brains out. But he doesn’t feel safe anymore. He feels… what? Insecure?
Milkoviches don’t get insecure, he thinks.
By the time the game ends Mickey is on his last straw and Liza’s hand is red from how tightly Mickey was grabbing her. They head back to the dorm, the girls chatting about how much fun they had and how they can’t wait to go out tonight. Mickey’s glad for their plans. He’d been dreading it, desperate to be fucked again, but now he feels like a weight is being lifted from his chest. He doesn’t want to face Ian. Not yet.
--
You disappeared!
I know you have plans with your friends but I figured you’d tell me good game
And that maybe I’d get a handy in the bathroom ;)
Mick?
He stares at his phone on the middle of the dance floor at Brick. He had somehow convinced his friends to head there instead of a frat party. He didn’t want to run into Ian by some off chance. His friends are dancing all around him and Mickey is drunk. Very fucking drunk after Nina flirted her way through a few rounds of tequila shots. He’s swaying with them as Olivia grinds against him. She’s trying to get fucked and Mickey is used to this. She used to do it with him all the time. They’d tag team it. Mickey would stand there swaying, eye fucking some alpha somewhere, and Olivia would grind up on him, eye fucking another alpha. In the end they’d both go home and get fucked.
“Mickey!” Liza calls over the music and leans in to talk to him. “Get off your phone! We’re fucking dancing!”
He agrees and slides his phone into his pocket. He looks over at Nina who is dancing with Liza. The night is still young. He… well, he misses Ian. He will never say that bullshit to his face, but Mickey hates that he’s here. As much as he doesn’t want to see Ian, doesn’t want to hear Ian go on and on about how great the game was, he wants to be near him. Wants that reassurance that Ian is fucking him, not one of those other sluts from the game.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” An alpha a little taller than Mickey asks, glancing him over. He narrows his eyes at the guy and gives him a once over. He’s dark and handsome. His eyes are dark and swimming with desire. In a different life Mickey would have let this alpha work him out.
He knows better, now though. But then he looks at his friends and sees them all looking at him expectantly. “Buy a round for me and my friends and I’ll consider it.” Mickey barks back.
The guy smirks, “What’s your poison?”
“Tequila!” Olivia cries out.
“Let’s go, then.” He motions for them to follow him up to the bar. The bartender asks for the guy’s ID. He hands it over easily and it makes Mickey wish he had a fake. The bartender steps back and begins filling up shot glasses. “I’m Andrew, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Mickey.” He replies and grabs the shot glass that lands in front of him. He passes the glasses around to his friends and Andrew takes one.
“Well, Mickey, to new beginnings!” They all cheers before throwing them back. Mickey grabs a lime and bites down, sucking the sour juice.
“Mickey!” He hears Liza call for him and he looks over at her. Her face is turned into a scowl as she points across the bar to where none other than Ian Gallagher sits, eyes wide as he stares at Mickey.
His mouth suddenly feels very dry. Andrew follows Liza’s finger and grins, raising a hand to wave at Ian. “You guys know Ian?” He asks.
Liza scoffs and ignores him, “I thought we said-”
“Yeah we did. No one invited him.” Mickey insists.
“What’s going on?” Nina asks.
“How do you guys know Ian?” Andrew butts in and Mickey feels grateful for the distraction.
He glances over at the spot where Ian had been sitting only to find it vacant. He feels his stomach sink. What is Gallagher even doing here?
“I’m his boyfriend.” Ian says from behind him, one arm snaking around Mickey’s waist.
“A boyfriend who was very specifically not invited.” Liza complains.
Andrew looks between the two of them, confused. “Wait, I didn’t know you had an omega, Ian.”
“How do you know Ian?” Olivia interrupts and all eyes turn to Andrew.
“We’re friends.” He says with a shrug.
“Why don’t your friends know you have a boyfriend?” Nina demands from Ian, her finger pointing at him in an accusatory fashion.
“We’re not friends. We… fuck, Mick are you drunk?” Ian’s eyes haven’t left him since he came over. Mickey feels a wave of nausea come over him.
“Oh, yeah, he’s fucking drunk. And it’s none of your business because, again, you weren’t fucking invited, Ian.” Liza reiterates and reaches out to tug Mickey out of his arms.
Ian shakes his head, “Fuck off, Liza, he looks like he’s in a pretty bad place. Maybe I should take him home.”
“How do you know Andrew?” Mickey asks finally, wanting to hear the answer. He knows it won’t be something he’ll like.
“We went to high school together. He’s on the hockey team.” Ian answers distractedly, “Let’s go back to my place, come on.”
“If… If he’s on the hockey team why wouldn’t he know about me?” Mickey asks, suddenly brazened by the alcohol.
Ian’s eyes soften and he grabs Mickey’s hand, “Let’s not do this at Brick, come on. Let’s go.”
Mickey lets himself be dragged from the bar and down the street. He’s not so drunk that he can’t walk, despite Ian wanting to get an Uber. He insists that it would be stupid since he lives right down the street.
He hears Liza calling after him, obviously pissed his boyfriend came and found them.
The walk back to the frat house is long and once they get there the place is crawling with partygoers. Mickey aches for privacy. That, and answers.
“How did you find us?” He asks, lying on his side in Ian’s bed.
“Stupid question.” Ian responds angrily, “You know how.”
“I really don’t.”
“You were wafting that omega scent from Goggin all the way to Brick. There was no way I wouldn’t find you.”
“Why are you pissed?”
“Fuck you Mickey, you know why.”
“I really don’t.”
“You accepted a drink from some guy.”
“Rules.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know. Liza’s. If a guy offers us a drink we have to get one for everybody.” Mickey thinks he’s too drunk for this conversation.
“That’s a stupid fucking rule.”
“Why didn’t Andrew know about me?”
“Because I don’t talk to him!” Ian shoots back and sighs in frustration. He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “Why were you scenting?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know?” Ian asks, clearly irritated but seeming to really wonder.
“I don’t,” He agrees.
“Your scent. It was like… all over the fuckin place. So fucking strong, like you’re trying to fuck.”
“I’m way too fucking drunk for this, Gallagher. Let me sleep.” He says and that’s the end of the conversation for him.
“No, not happening. I’m mad at you, Mickey.”
“Yeah I know you are. Can’t do shit about that if I’m drunk.” He slings an arm over his eyes and tries his best to sleep.
“Mickey-”
“What, Gallagher?” He growls and sits up, glaring at Ian who is standing on the other side of the room.
“Don’t talk to me like that.” Ian commands and Mickey is reminded that he’s an alpha. He’s his alpha. And Mickey needs to respect that.
Mickey grits his teeth and grinds out, “Sorry,”
“You pissed me off. You went out and accepted a drink from an alpha who was clearly hitting on you. Fuck Mickey, what am I supposed to do when you’re flirting with other alphas? Huh?” Ian shakes his head and massages his eyes with his fingers. His hair is dark, darker than usual, and Mickey wonders if it’s wet.
“He wasn’t hitting on me.” Mickey disagrees and crosses his arms.
“What do you call offering you a drink, then?” Ian quips, voice dripping with sarcasm. He glares across the room at Mickey who feels uncomfortable.
“Fuck off, man. I told you, rules are rules.”
“Your friend’s rules are more important than your respect for us?” Ian raises his eyebrows in anger.
“Fuck, Ian, I don’t know! No, I guess.” He’s getting frustrated. He doesn’t know why Ian is so pissed when he’s the one who’s constantly being hit on by omegas. Why is that okay but it isn’t okay for Mickey to be hit on?
“You guess!?” Ian is getting progressively more worked up. He juts his jaw out, a sure sign that he’s beyond pissed.
“What do you want me to say?” Mickey breathes, suddenly exhausted.
“I want you-” Ian cuts himself off. He looks at Mickey and softens. “I want you to want me like I want you.” He confesses.
Mickey doesn’t know what that means and furrows his brow, “What?” Once again he’s reminded of how drunk he is.
“I want you to want me.”
“I do want you.”
“More, then. I want you to want me more.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” He admits, still not entirely sure what Ian even means.
Ian scoffs and moves to sit down next to Mickey on the bed, “I know. I loved chasing you, Mick. I loved chasing after you and proving to you that I’m here and I’m interested. But I’d love even more to catch you. Let me catch you.”
Mickey lets that roll around in his head. Catch him. What does that even mean? Hasn’t he already been caught? Doesn’t Gallagher already have him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think now is the time to-”
“I know you’re drunk, Mickey, you haven’t let me forget.” Ian butts in rudely.
“Fuck off, Ian. Fine, you wanna do this right now? Let’s do this right now. I’m pissed off at you. I told you that I didn’t want to go to your fucking game because I didn’t wanna hear those horny omegas go crazy. And that’s exactly what I fucking heard. You’re mad some alpha bought me a drink? I’m mad every fucking omega wants your cock. Fuck off like you’re some poor thing.” His chest is heaving up and down, he’s sure his face is red, and he’s clenching his fists. He’s mad. Fuming. He can’t believe Ian has the audacity to be mad at him when he was forced to hear omegas bitch all night.
Ian blinks at him, “Wait… you’re mad at me?”
“Fuck you, yes I’m mad at you! I just said that shit, didn’t I?”
“Wait, tell me again. Tell me again why you’re upset.” Ian asks him in a soothing tone. He isn’t sure what the fuck he’s supposed to do with Ian’s tone. Wants to tell him to shove it up his ass.
“I just told you.”
“I know you did. Tell me again.”
“Because… because I don’t wanna hear that nasty shit about what these omegas want to do to you. It’s disgusting.” He practically spits the words out of his mouth.
Ian’s face breaks into a smile, though, and that pisses him off more. “Fuck, Mickey. When you say shit like that it makes me wanna mate you.”
Something inside Mickey ignites like a fire. He feels hot all over and suddenly-
Oh god I’m gonna puke.
He stands up abruptly and flings open the door to the bedroom. Across the hall is the bathroom where Mickey drops to his knees and throws up. He barely hears Ian following him and then his laughter rings out. He isn’t sure what’s so fucking funny about this.
“I tell you I want to mate, and you throw up.” He laughs again in disbelief but squats down next to him and places a hand on his back. “God, you weren’t kidding about being drunk.”
Mickey wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Fuck no I wasn’t. Can I please sleep now?” He stands up and Ian does the same, following him back to the room.
“This isn’t over yet, Milkovich.” Ian warns him as he rests his head on the pillow. Mickey just throws up his middle finger in response.
--
The next morning Mickey’s head is killing him. He keeps his eyes shut for as long as possible, knowing that Ian is awake from the sound of his breathing.
Fucking gay, he thinks. He hates that he’s memorized the differences in Ian’s breath.
He groans and flings his arm over his eyes. Everything hurts so fucking badly. “Good morning,” He can hear the shit-eating grin in Ian’s voice. He flips him off, keeping his eyes closed. Ian moves into his personal space, running a hand through his hair. It’s grossly sweet, making him want to cringe. Unfortunately, his omega preens and moves him closer. “You look like shit.” Ian tells him.
“Yeah, fuck you very much. I feel like shit.” He moves his arm and risks opening his eyes to see Ian staring down at him.
“You threw up.” He states.
“Yes. I wasn’t that drunk that I can’t remember.”
“You threw up after I told you I want to mate you.” Ian reminds him and Mickey scoffs.
“No, I threw up because I was fucking drunk.” He disagrees and Ian seems to be fighting off a smile.
His fingers massage his head in a way that is so soothing and makes Mickey feel so… cared for, his mind fills in. “So you’re not repulsed by the idea of mating?”
“No, I’m definitely fucking repulsed. We barely know each other. I’m not mating with some rando.”
“But, eventually?” Ian asks hopefully.
“Maybe let’s worry about being boyfriends first.”
Ian’s grin looks like it’s going to split his face in two. “You just admitted you’re my boyfriend.”
“Fuck you is what I admitted.”