Gallavich Oneshots

Nightmare

Plot- Mickey has a nightmare involving one terry milkovich.

It had been a relatively calm night. Ian and Mickey spent the day babysitting Franny, so it was no surprise when they went home exhausted.

Of course Mickey was the first to collapse. Ian took his time before getting in bed. That was the mild difference between the two- a shower and some kind of caffeine free tea.

Some days Mickey would join in such actions. He likes some of the teas Ian liked. Tonight, however, he didn't have the energy level to stay up that long.

So Ian crawled in bed about an hour later to find him passed out. He was oblivious to the slight shaking, and nodded off moments into his boyfriends nightmare.

"Nah man I'm straight. You knew that."

"Yeah, well you act faggy with that Ian kid."

"No, he's just a friend."

Terry didn't seem convinced. Mickey wouldn't waste his time trying to prove it him. At least not in that moment. He'd have to cut Ian off.

Except that only lasted so long. He caved when Ian began teasing him over the phone. Just a couple messages. He sure knew how to use emojis.

Terry was supposed to be gone for a week anyway. So Mickey invited the Gallagher over for a little relaxation. That basically meant fucking.

Of course that didn't ever quite happen. Instant replays of  Terry discovering them both half naked in his living room clouded Mickeys brain. It was less than ideal.

The thought crossed his mind that after being beaten, things couldn't get worse. Until a random Russian entered the room. He spared a glance to Ian, who looked sick and terrified.

Mickey wouldn't admit he was just as scared if not more. It may have been a dream, but everything felt very real. What happened next jolted him awake.

Not that Mickey slept well in the dead quiet most nights, but this was truly embarrassing. He could barely breathe, digging his palms into his eyes as the tears threatened to surface.

Ian began to stir beside him, but he didn't wake up quite yet. Then the Milkovich let out a sob, trembling in the darkness that surrounded them both.

Now Ian was awake. "Mick?"

The brunette stiffened beside him, still primarily covering his face. If Ian was going to laugh at him, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of watching him cry.

"Mickey, you alright?"

He sat up, putting one hand on his shoulder, and frowning when his boyfriend flinched away from him.

"Fuck off, man, I'm fine."

Ian sighed. When Mickey was this defensive, he was definitely going through something. While the Gallagher had no clue what happened, he was determined to help in any way he could.

So he scooted a little closer to the older boy. Mickey still hadn't looked at him.

"Mick-"

"Stop saying my name like that!" He snapped, hands moving to rest near his thighs as he shook. "Fucking nightmare, alright? That's it. The end. Go to bed."

"You know that's not how this works."

The Milkovich was silent, still protesting his own tears. Ian took that moment to intertwine their hands.

"You don't have to tell me what happened. I just want to make sure you're alright. You look shaken up."

"Yeah, well I'm not." Mickey growled back at him, but his voice cracked.

Ian was silent. He knew better than to keep talking. Mickey was seconds away from breaking, and that either meant yelling or crying.

"Fuck.." Mickey sobbed a second later, confirming Ian's predictions.

The ginger quickly pulled him into a hug. Mickey did weakly protest, but knowing Ian was warm and comforting overruled any toxic masculinity he could've exhibited.

His head dropped onto his boyfriends shoulder, letting his tears take over when he felt a hand running through his hair. Ian didn't say a single word. He simply held the boy until his cries died down and he pulled away, red faced and shaky.

"Terry?" Ian questioned ever so quietly.

Mickeys breathing hitched for a second, and his hands returned to fisting the blankets.

"Mhm." Was his short reply. "Fucking bitch."

"Don't blame yourself for anything he did. He's just miserable. You're perfect the way you are."

Mickey paid no mind to the fresh wave of tears as they surfaced at his words. "Yeah."

He silently laid back down, and Ian slid into his spot behind him, neither of them protesting the given that was Ian's arms around his waist. His breathing didn't completely slow until at least ten minutes later.

By that point, Ian was rubbing circles over the brunettes knuckles. He was sure Mickey had fallen asleep. Just as Ian was about to fall asleep himself, Mickey muttered something else.

"I love you, Ian."

It was tentative, almost a question depending on an answer he wasn't sure he could handle.

"I love you, too, Mick. Always."

And Mickey relaxed. The tension left his back, and he quickly settled back into slumber.