Chapter Text
"Are you OK?" Ian took another step towards the dark-haired man. "Need help with your car?" His eyes wandered around and outside the garage, looking for a car that might need fixing.
The man in front of Ian still said nothing. Frozen to the spot, he just stared at him, his crystal blue eyes boring into Ian's.
“Yo, man! You okay?” Ian asked a bit louder and patted the other man’s arm. That seemed to snap him out of his trance-like state and he cleared his throat.
“Uhm, I’m… yeah. I’m good.” He thumbed his nose and his lips curled into a shy smile.
He was cute, Ian thought and took a second to take the man in. He was a little smaller than Ian but very well built. He was wearing gray sweatpants that showed more than the other man probably wanted, a plaid shirt that he wore open and a white tank top underneath.
Definitely cute.
Ian grinned. "So, what can I do for you?" He leaned against the car he was working on. Fortunately, the gangster from the day before hadn't been able to get hold of the Camaro, so Ian had once again had a satisfied customer in Mr. Noland. Today he was working on a Mercedes from one of his regular customers.
“So, look… uhm, I’m Mickey.” The man in front of him finally said.
“Hi, Mickey. Nice to meet you. My name’s Ian. Ian Gallagher. I own the place.” Ian stretched out his hand and Mickey took it hesitantly. Mickey’s hands were warm, soft and a little sweaty. Ian’s grin grew wider.
The other man was nervous.
"So, this is going to sound fuckin’ stupid, but I... I was wondering if you'd like to, I don't know, go out sometime." Mickey stammered, making a nervous face. "With me, I mean." He pointed at himself and Ian noticed that his knuckles were tattooed with the words 'fuck u-up'. And Ian thought it was strange, that harsh statement somehow didn't seem to fit the man in front of him.
“I know it sounds-” Mickey went on.
Ian was surprised. That was not at all what he had expected the other man to say. Surprised and flattered. Did the stranger just ask him out on a date? Just like that?
“Uhm, yeah. Sure.” Ian heard himself say, “Wow. Sorry, I’m just a bit perplexed. Doesn’t happen a lot that someone just comes in here and asks me out.” He added.
“Yeah, fuck. I’m sorry, man. You must think I’m some kind of perv or some shit.” Mickey shook his head and bit his lower lip.
Definitely nervous.
“Nah, nah. That’s not what I think. It’s just… have we met before? Did I miss something here?”
“No, I was just- I guess I was just stopping by and kinda saw you and well, I liked what I saw and thought why the hell not, right? Yolo… take chances and shit.”
Ian chuckled. “That’s- Wow.”
“I’m sorry, that was a dumb ass fuckin’ move. I’ll just go.” Mickey turned on his heels but Ian stopped him, grabbing his arm gently.
“Wait. Wait. I’m just surprised. I would like to go out with you some time, Mickey.”
“You for real?”
“Yeah, sure. If you are.”
“I am.” Mickey smiled and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting Ian’s.
“Okay, cool.” Ian smiled too, and found himself mesmerized by the sapphire blue of Mickey’s eyes. Damn, that man was gorgeous. “So, can I ask why you want to go on a date with me? How’d you even know I’m into men?” Ian asked curiously. “I mean, I could be as straight as they come?”
Mickey let out a huffed laugh. “No way.”
“What do you mean, no way?”
“I mean, fuckin’ look at you. No way you’re wasting all of that on a woman.”
“That’s kinda rude and misogynistic.” Ian chuckled.
“Nah, just honest. Plus, no straight guy has a dog that looks like this.” Mickey chuckled and pointed towards Kaz that was still lying in his bed.
“Ay!” Ian grunted, pretending to be offended. “Just FYI, Kaz is the best bud ever.” The small dog lifted his ears as he heard his name and both men laughed.
“He’s cute.” Mickey admitted.
“He’s the best.”
“So listen, man. I was thinking we could go to dinner or something.” Mickey said hesitantly.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you wanna do.” Ian nodded, finding himself excited at the thought of going out with a man he met only five minutes ago. There was something about the other man that intrigued him. Something that pulled him in, made him want to get to know Mickey. And it was not just his mesmerizing blue eyes and the delicious physique.
“Okay, I’m not really good at this shit, but maybe I could come by later to pick you up?” Mickey asked.
“I think you’re pretty good at this shit.” Ian chuckled. “And yes. That sounds like a plan. I think I’ll be done by six. I actually live down the street, so I’ll just run home, shower and feed Kaz and I’ll be back here. So… whenever you wanna come by.”
Mickey seemed surprised by that information, as he raised both his eyebrows. “Oh, okay, so you live in the neighborhood then?”
“Yeah, a block down.”
“You Hale’s grandson or something?”
“You knew Hale?”
“Nah, just heard of him, I guess.”
That made sense since Hale had been somewhat of a celebrity on the South Side, Ian thought.
“So, you’re a Southie, too?” He asked.
“A Southie?” Mickey arched a brow at him.
“Yeah, a Southie. You know, from the South Side.”
“Yeah, no shit. I know what you meant, but come on. Nobody fuckin’ says that.” Mickey huffed.
"I do." Ian grinned and found that he liked talking to Mickey, he even liked being teased by him. It was almost as if they were old friends.
“Then yeah, I guess, I’m a fuckin’ Southie. Born and raised.” Mickey shook his head, chuckling.
“How come I’ve never seen you around?” Ian wondered, speaking the words out loud.
“‘Cause there’s like two hundred thousand people living here, Ian.” Mickey scrunched his face in irritation as if he couldn’t believe Ian was serious.
“Oh, yeah, no, I know.” Ian nodded, “I was just kinda wondering out loud I guess.”
“You’re a fuckin’ weirdo, you know that?” Mickey huffed.
“Still wanna go out with me?” Ian asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the other man.
“Call me fuckin’ nuts, but I do.” Mickey said and Ian felt a wave of happiness surging through his body.
He hadn’t been on a real date in forever. And he started to already like Mickey.
This was going to be amazing, he thought.
*
“What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“I’ll have a beer and the pasta pomodoro, please.” Ian smiled at the waitress.
Mickey had picked a nice restaurant in walking distance from the garage that had amazing Italian food. At least the appetizer was delicious.
Ian handed her the menu and turned his focus back to Mickey who was about to order, too.
“I’ll take a coke and the garlic salmon.”
“Of course. Can I recommend a wine that goes with that?” The waitress asked.
“No, thanks. Not for me. You want wine, Ian?” Mickey asked and Ian thought his voice sounded a bit nervous.
“No. I’m good.” He shook his head.
“Okay, then. It’ll just be a few minutes and I’ll be right back with your food.” The waitress smiled and headed towards the kitchen.
Now there was a small, awkward pause and silence between the two men, still very much strangers to each other.
Ian was the first to speak, knowing from the previous encounter with Mickey that the other man apparently sometimes struggled to find the right words - or any words at all.
“So, Mickey. I think I already know a lot about you.” Ian grinned. “You don’t own a car, you’re from the South Side and you don’t like wine. Am I correct?”
Mickey huffed out a humorless laugh, “‘S not that I don’t like wine, Gallagher. It’s that I can’t drink. Or shouldn’t.”
Oh . Ian swallowed, realizing what Mickey was insinuating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“Ay, don’t piss yourself. It’s fine. I’m an alcoholic, so what?” Mickey waved him off.
“I’m sorry, Mickey. I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have ordered a beer.”
“Relax, man.” Mickey shook his head, “I said it’s fine. And I meant it. You’re not the first person to drink in front of me.”
“So, you’re a recovering alcoholic.” Ian said, immediately feeling stupid for stating the obvious but he felt like he just had to say it out loud.
“Yup.” Mickey nodded. “Haven’t had a drink in a year.”
“That’s amazing, you should be really proud, Mickey.”
“Yeah, really proud.” Mickey repeated, sarcasm clear in his voice.
“I mean it. That must have been so hard for you.”
“Not really. I was in prison, so… didn’t really have a choice.”
Wow. Seemed like they were riding the honesty train here.
Ian was stunned for a second. He hadn’t expected Mickey to open up like that at all. “Thank you for telling me.” Was all he could master to get out.
“No use hiding it, I guess.” Mickey chuckled. “And no, I didn’t have a cellmate named Bubba who protected me.”
“What?” Ian laughed, relieved that Mickey wasn’t putting up a wall.
“That’s what everyone’s always wondering.. If I was someone’s prison bitch, right?” Mickey shrugged and Ian couldn’t help but laugh even louder.
He liked Mickey.
They talked and talked and didn't even notice the time passing. Mickey told Ian about his time in prison and about his family. Eventually the nice waitress came over and told them the restaurant was closing. The two men were stunned, they had not expected it to be so late.
“Guess we should get going, huh?” Mickey said.
Ian nodded, “Yeah. I can walk you home.”
“Oh, no need. I’m okay.” Mickey shook his head.
“Are you sure?” Ian asked, wondering why Mickey brushed him off like that.
“Yup.” Mickey nodded.
After paying the bill, although Ian suggested they split it, they left the restaurant. Ian wanted nothing more than to take Mickey home, but he had a feeling that for some reason the other man didn't really want to.
“Okay then,” Ian said, “thank you for an awesome night.”
“My pleasure.” Mickey thumbed his nose and smiled at Ian, shyly.
Ian had no idea what possessed him but he felt a surge of adrenaline and simply leaned forward to close the distance between him and Mickey. When they lips met, the other man let out a small gasp of surprise. Mickey's lips were soft and warm and Ian loved the way the other man immediately melted into the kiss.
They moaned and groaned into each other's mouths, their tongues tangling, fighting for dominance. Just as Ian felt that this couldn't be real, that this had to be some sort of dream, some out of body experience, Mickey's hands flew around Ian's head, his hands grabbing Ian's hair, pulling him closer. He ground his lips against the redhead's mouth, the friction making Ian's brain sizzle.
“Wow,” Ian breathed as they finally broke apart.
He knew they were moving fast but he just couldn’t help himself. He bit down on his tongue and stroked his thumb over Mickey’s cheek, lightly, and over the corner of his mouth, tugging on Mickey’s lip. Ian felt the urgent thud of his pulse between his legs, and he sucked back a breath. Shit, Mickey was intoxicating. And Ian could already feel himself getting addicted.
“Fuck, you’re-” He began but couldn’t think of the right word.
“Fuckin’ hot?” Mickey chuckled.
“Yeah, that too.” Ian smiled. “But you’re also very mysterious and interesting. I already like you, you know?”
“I kinda like you too, Gallagher.”