Alone Together (Gallavich)

twenty-five

ian

"Wh-" I breathed out, keeping my wide eyes on the black-haired man. Without even meaning to, my hand was off Mickey's thigh and knotted with my other in between my legs. I could see Mickey's face forming into sadness slightly, the tough exterior he always held fading more by the second.

"I gotta go back home," he sighed out after a prolonged moment of silence, running a hand through his messy hair.

I turned my head to face the wall across from us, unable to hold my gaze on Mickey anymore. The room was immediately heavier, at least it felt that way as I stood up, needing to move and keep myself from totally losing it. I walked to the other end of the room, my back towards Mickey, as I felt my eyes start to water.

What the hell was happening?

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two. I really don't know what I expected from our relationship - we both came from fucked up places and people. The fact that we even found each other in the first place was pretty spectacular, let alone stuck together for so long. But after the last month or so, I guess I just figured we were good. I figured wrong apparently.

"You're just gonna leave?" I choked out, the darkness in the room thankfully hiding my shaking body.

"Only for a few weeks, man."

"Why?" My voice was wavering pretty noticeably now as I was still facing away from Mickey.

"My dad gets out soon," he sighed in response. I could hear the bed shift under him, as he stood up. Rubbing a hand over my mouth, I took a step closer to the bed in front of me, a step away from Mickey. "He's gonna hear it from someone, about us. I gotta be there when shit hits the fan."

"What, so you're just gonna back to fucking lying about everything again? Pretending I don't exist?" I bit back, my frustration showing more than I wanted it to as I finally snapped. Whipping around to continue my anger, I was thrown off by the sight of Mickey standing right in front of me now. He moved back instinctively, clearly startled by my sudden movement and not expecting me to be the one closing the final gap between our bodies. His face, however, did not hold the same confusion and surprise that his body exhibited. Instead, he looked up at me in anger and what seemed to be disappointment.

"Are you fucking serious? Ian, he's gonna come here and fucking murder us both when he gets home next week. The last damn thing I'm gonna do is let that mother fucker get away with his bullsit again," he finally responded, his voice low but stern. "This has nothing to do with You and I, okay? This is about Us and Them," he added, pointing between us then motioning towards the window and the world outside at the last part. When the frustration on my face stayed put, not relaxing at his explanation, it was clear that Mickey was not going to rest until I showed that I understood him.

"You already know how I feel about us. I'm not letting him fuck it up," he paused, taking in a long breath and running his hand over his mouth. "I'm not gonna fucking hide us, but I gotta make sure he'll leave us the fuck alone. I can't do that here." he explained. It was reassuring to hear Mickey refer to the situation with "us". He knew the goal of him leaving wasn't selfish. Part of me knew it took. The other part, however, hoped after everything that happened tonight, he would stay by me no matter what and that we'd deal with whatever, and whoever, as it came, not take weeks to scheme some kind of resolution that not only kept us apart but may or may not even work. That part couldn't stand the thought of having Mickey leave again, no matter the circumstances.

"You just fucking got here though," I breathed out, so quiet I wasn't even sure I had actually said it. Feeling myself get upset again, I turned my body to face the wall again.

"Stop," Mickey barked at me, grabbing my wrists and pulling me back to face him. Our fingers didn't connect, our palms weren't touching, it wasn't even a gentle grab, more of a yank if anything. It wasn't meant to be endearing, though. It was meant to get me to focus, which it did.

"Stop what," I groaned back, my anger still coming out stronger than intended.

"Thinking that this is some permanent fucking thing," he yelled, making me flinch slightly. His eyes were now dead locked with mine, his hand still clutched around my wrists, its grip beginning to sting my skin. As if he read my mind, he started to loosen his fingers, stepping away slightly from me. "I'm coming back, Ian, alright?" he added, much softer now. "It's just a few weeks."

My brain was racing all over the place in that moment. Terry was not a good man and Mickey was stubborn as shit. A few weeks could turn into a while. Maybe even forever. It was fucking terrifying to think about them being in the same room now that Terry would be fresh out of prison with information about Mickey and I's relationship. I didn't want to even suggest anything like that though. That's a conversation that could only go wrong.

"It's a long time Mick," I responded.

"It's gonna go faster than you think, I promise." An attempt at a reassuring smile came over Mickey's face as he interlaced our fingers finally.

"When?" I asked solemnly, not able to see a bright side to any of this yet.

"Tomorrow. The sooner I get back around everyone there, the easier it'll be to get him to give me the time to rip out his throat."

I slowly nodded, a small smile on my face now. Whenever Mickey got all tough, making crazy threats or using one of his million facial expressions to kill someone through his eyes, I couldn't help but be a little happy. His irrational toughness was one of my favorite things about him.

"You better not land your fucking ass in jail," I joked, shoving Mickey's shoulder playfully with my free hand.

"Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," he shrugged back with a full smile on his face, pulling his hand away from mine and moving back towards the bed.

"Yeah well this man wants to see his fucking thug boyfriend again without a piece of glass between them," I replied, following Mickey across the room.

"Chill your tits Red," Mickey scoffed, turning back around to face me and placing a hand on my chest to stop me from coming closer. "Or you'll be next."

"Oh yeah, is that fucking right?" Rolling my eyes, I brushed away Mickey's hand from my chest which earned me one of those facial expressions from the man - this time, raised eyebrows and wide eyes accompanied by a smug smile.

"You don't think I'll mess you up Bitch? I ain't afraid of no fuckin Gallagher."

"Settle down Tough Guy," I chuckled, wrapping my arms around Mickey's neck and looking down into his eyes. Realizing that this could be the last moment like this for a while, I leaned my head down and softly pressed my lips onto Mickey's, who immediately kissed back and placed his hands on my hips. We stood there for a minute, not pushing the kiss into anything more than the simplicity it was. When I finally pulled away, I kept my forehead on Mickey's, my eyes pressed shut.

"I'm gonna fucking miss you Mick."

"I know," he answered in a whisper, putting his hand on my cheek and rubbing it with his thumb. "I'm gonna miss you too Gallagher."

You little turds got me to 3k reads already omg what the heck did i do to deserve this!!!!! Love you all so much so here's another chapter for you :)
Joyous kwanza if you celebrate!!!