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“You’re gonna use this color,” Franny picks out a navy blue crayon, handing it to Mickey.
The two are sitting beside the coffee table in the den, Franny on her knees and Mickey leaned against the couch. There are about five different coloring books laid out on the dark-wood table, which now has its own little streak of purple thanks to Franny. Debbie had dropped Franny off with a few Princess and Fairy coloring books. Mickey immediately went to the little cabinet where they keep Franny’s items for the Monster Truck coloring book that he had bought for her. She beamed, insisting that they start coloring now. Ian had gone out to get lunch, so it was just them two coloring away in a comfortable silence. Franny always got so concentrated when coloring, her tongue sticking out between her lips, brows furrowed. Mickey found it absolutely endearing, it reminded him so much of Ian. A lot about Franny reminded him of Ian, including her bossy nature.
Mickey chuckles, “Can’t I choose my own color crayon, Fran?” He questions while taking the crayon she holds out to him.
“But I want you to use this one,” she says rather seriously, so Mickey complies, scribbling away with the dark blue crayon.
Ian walks through the door, take-out containers hanging off his fingers that peaked out of his gloves, big coat wrapped tightly around him, and a bright-red face.
“Jesus, it’s fucking freezing,” he says as soon as he steps inside.
Franny seems to pay him no mind, completely concentrating on her artwork as Mickey looks ups, “Ay, I know, man. why don’t you go change into somethin’ warmer and then we’ll eat,” Mickey says softly before returning to his coloring, picking up the blue crayon that was basically a nub at this point.
“Yeah okay, I’ll be quick,” Ian sets the food on the counter before heading over to where the two sit in their own little world.
He places a quick kiss to both Mickey and Franny’s heads, “Hi Fran,” he raises his voice a little as if to say I’m right here, aren’t you excited to see me?
“Uncle Ian!” Franny squeals, finally pulling away from her coloring long enough to realize he was in the room. She jumps up, wrapping her arms around his leg tightly before returning to her picture.
That always made Mickey’s heart skip a beat; seeing him and Franny. The way Ian looked even taller next to her, how she soon figured out she couldn’t hug him while standing up, so instead she grew a habit of clinging to his leg as a warm welcome and goodbye. With that, Ian takes off to the bedroom.
A few more moments of silence pass before Franny breaks it, breaking her gaze away from her purple and green monster truck to stare at Mickey, “You’re pretty Uncle Mickey,” she says matter-of-factly before returning to her drawing. At the same time, Ian walks in, leaned against the doorway to the den, a small smile on his face at the sight of his husband and niece.
Mickey can’t help but chuckle, looking over at Ian with his eyebrows raised because Where the hell did that come from?
“Well thanks, Little Red. You ain’t too bad yourself kid, way prettier than me,” his attempt to halt the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth miserably fails as he watches Franny giggle and bat her eyelashes at the comment.
Franny’s hand moves slowly and surely around the page, “Uncle Ian says it all the time,” she continues scribbling, “Says that you’re soooo pretty,” she giggles slightly, looking towards Ian
“Oh, ‘s that right?” Mickey raises one eyebrow and turns his head towards Ian who wears a smug grin.
Ian shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve been exposed,” he states matter-of-factly, “What can I say?”
“I have to pee,” Franny says, already bored with their conversation, jumping up from her spot and headed down the hallway.
“Wash your hands, Fran!” Ian yells after her, pushing himself off the door frame, heading towards Mickey.
“Pretty, huh Gallagher?” Mickey flashes a one-sided grin up at where Ian stands behind him, hovering over his head, a certain softness in his eyes.
Ian shrugs, “I stand by it…” Ian leans down and presses their lips together spider-man style, “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers as their mouths part, but still remain close together.
Mickey beams, a warmth that only Ian can provide spreading all throughout his body, “Yeha, you too, Red.” They kiss one more time before Franny comes running in, demanding a popsicle. They all three sit on the patio and eat their popsicle, Mickey looking on in amusement as both Ian and Franny end up with red all over their mouths and shirts by the time they’re done.