One drunk night// Gallavich

11

MICKEY
You know you fucked up if not even Ian Gallagher, the nicest Gallagher family member, refused to talk to you.

Every time I called him, it went straight to voicemail. Every text that I sent either got left on delivered, or left on read. Everyone but me knew where Ian was.

"Can you tell me where Ian is? He hasn't returned any of my calls or messages." I looked at Mandy with hope in my eyes. I needed to talk to Ian, and Mandy might have been my only option.

"Where do you think he is, dumbass?" Mandy hissed as she rolled her eyes, walking off.

Grabbing my jacket, I raced to The Fairytale. The sooner I talked to Ian, the sooner my conscience would be free. He needed to know the truth, whether I wanted to tell him or not.

———

When I arrived at the gay bar, my eyes darted from one wall to the other, trying to find Ian. After gazing around, my eyes spotted him. He was giving a lap dance to an older dude, maybe 50 years old. I wanted to vomit. Seeing Ian being so carefree and happy, I wished that maybe he could feel that with me, but he made it very clear that we wouldn't be a thing for a very long time.

Sick of watching Ian give a lap dance to a random dude, I decided to end the dance. I walked over to the pair, watching as Ian seductively danced on and around the dude. I rolled my eyes when the dude smirked at Ian.

"Time's up, lovebirds. Get up." I hissed, watching as the dude didn't get up off the seat.

"That means get the fuck up. It's my turn." I glared at him, watching as he slipped a $50 bill into Ian's pants.

"I'll look for you later, Curtis." The man smirked before walking away.

"Curtis"? Fucking stage name?" I laughed.

"25 bucks gets you a dance." Ian smirked.

"Excuse me?" I looked at Ian, confused.

"Don't want to dance, gotta move on." Ian informed me as he put the feather boa around his neck.

"Okay, all right." I gave in, placing the $25 in Ian's pants. He pushed me down onto the seat, starting to dance on me. Not gonna lie, I was getting turned on my Ian's actions, but I needed to focus on my reason for being there in the first place.

"So how's your day going so far?" Ian seductively spoke, smirking.

"How's my fucking day going?" I looked at Ian, unable to believe that I was getting a lap dance from my husband.

"Having fun?" He asked, smiling.

"No, I'm not having fun. I spent the whole day looking for your pissed off ass." I groaned, trying not to get hard from Ian's ass grinding against my dick.

"Hello? The fuck? I can't talk to you like this. Can we go outside?" I asked, confused.

"25 bucks only buys you one dance." Ian rolled his eyes standing up. He was about to walk away, but I stopped him.

"Okay. Then let's go back to my place." I requested, watching as Ian looked away from me.

"That was fun. But don't come back to find me if you want another one. Choose one of my co-workers." Ian was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Hey, hey. Look, you don't want to hang out with me, that's fine. But there's something you need to know." I needed to explain the situation before Ian left.

"Is everything okay here, Curtis?" A taller man approached, a serious look on his face.

"Everything's great, Roger." Ian smiled.

"Good. 'Cause that guy over there looks like he may want a dance." The man nodded, pointing to some random grey-haired dude sitting over near the larger stage.

"I'm on it." Ian nodded.

"I remember what happened." I announced to Ian, who turned around to look at me.

"What?" Ian looked at me, confused.

"I remember what happened...on the night...we got married." I muttered the last part of the sentence, Ian's face dropping.

"Meet me back at my house. My family's out for the weekend." Ian looked away, clearly trying to hold back tears.

———

IAN
At 6 pm, I left work and messaged Mickey.

Me: I'm on my way home.

Every step that I took home, my mind wondered what Mickey would tell me. Reaching my front door, I opened it to see Mickey standing near my couch, a look of hope on his face.

"Let's cut the shit and get to the event. What happened the night we got married?" I asked, not bothered.

For the next 2 minutes, Mickey explained what happened.

"You and me. We could get married." Mickey laughed.

"Wait, what? Did Mickey Milkovich, the homophobic gay guy, just offer me marriage?" My eyes widened.

"I mean, like you said, if either of us ever did something illegal, we couldn't testify against each other, so why not?" Mickey stood up, helping me off the edge.

"Y- You were the one who suggested marriage?" I couldn't believe it.

"Yes. I was." Mickey sighed.

"And you had the fucking audacity to pretend like I wasn't your husband, like you weren't my husband, like we weren't fucking married?" I could feel the tears. All this time, Mickey was the one who suggested marriage. We wouldn't be in this fucking situation if it wasn't for him. I felt the tears falling down my cheek.

"Look, Ian, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for denying our clearly shitty situation. I'm sorry for doing one thing before having a go at you for doing the same thing. I'm sorry for making you feel unwanted and worthless. But I think I'm mostly sorry for suggesting marriage in the first place." Mickey looked just as heartbroken as I did. I was pissed at him for putting us in this situation, and he was clearly pissed off at the fact the let the situation get so shitty.

"You clearly hate me, and that's fine. I'll leave. I don't care anymore. If you don't want to consider us married, even though we are, then I won't either." Mickey wiped away his tears, standing up straighter, to seem tougher.

"Here's the ring. Do whatever you want with it." Mickey exhaled with disappointment as he placed my wedding ring on the coffee table, walking past me.

"I'll see you around, Gallagher." Instead of calling me Ian like he had before, he went back to calling me Gallagher. He left the house.

The moment Mickey shut the front door, every emotion that had been pent-up inside just released. I felt relieved to finally know what led to Mickey and I getting married. I felt angry that Mickey and I had spent so long fighting. I felt sad that maybe Mickey and I might never be a happily married couple, ever. I leaned against the wall that resided just beside the staircase and cried, unable to stop. With whatever energy I had left in my system, I got up and grabbed the wedding ring before someone came home and saw it. I hid it in my room, placing it with the marriage certificate.