eighty-four ,, gallavich

ii

II.

He doesn't wake up with an arm around his waist.

He wakes up with his arm around someone's waist. Ian groans and then leans up on one elbow, looking around the room. His stomach drops. It's the same fucking room, and god, that's Mickey in his bed. Ian looks over at the clock. It's almost eleven in the morning, which is past what the time was earlier, but if his body's sluggishness tells him anything, it's been longer than an hour or two.

Ian gets out of bed and looks for his phone. It's not on the bedside table where he'd left it, but in his jeans again on the floor. Ian's getting a sinking feeling in his stomach, and it's confirmed when he looks at the date: January 1st, 2017. Ian looks around. He's naked again, no clothes on. He didn't take his clothes off, but neither did Mickey. At least, he's pretty sure Mickey didn't.

Ian phones through his contacts and calls Lip again.

"Hello?" Lip's voice sounds annoyed. "Fuck, it's early."

"Lip," Ian says, "something really weird is going on."

"Oh, god, what?"

Ian can't even begin to describe this. Is it the same day as when he went to sleep? "Did I call you earlier?" Ian asks.

"If I didn't answer then only you would know-"

"No, I mean, you answered. I called you, and you answered, and we talked about how I fucked Mickey." Ian glances at Mickey. Mickey has an arm curled under a pillow, and his face is slack. He looks peaceful, and kinda beautiful. Ian jolts, focusing back on Lip.

"Ian, I don't remember this," Lip says, confused, "and it sounds like something I don't even want to remember. Did you call me last night?"

"No, it was this morning."

"What? I just woke up."

Ian knows, then. "Never mind then. Bye, Lip." He hangs up and stares at Mickey again. Okay. So he's repeating the same day as yesterday. Which also happens to be a day that for him-the real, actual him-is over a year in the future. It makes perfect sense except for how the fuck did that happen.

He drops his phone down on the bedside table, which startles Mickey awake. He groans, putting his arm over his eyes. "Sorry," Ian whispers, and Mickey waves his hand in the air like it doesn't matter. Ian walks over to the dresser and starts shifting through drawers for something clean to wear.

"Getting dressed?" Mickey asks from the bed. Ian tells him that he is, glancing behind him and then freezing when he sees Mickey staring at him, head tilted. "I can think of something better to do," Mickey says, mouth forming a smirk, "and it doesn't require any clothes." Something jolts low in Ian's gut. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

Ian quickly tries to form a reason why they can't fuck. "Don't you have a meeting with your econ group?" he blurts out, and then curses himself. Mickey raises his eyebrows. "I saw a text on your phone," Ian adds. Is he allowed to look at Mickey's phone? They've been dating for a year apparently. They should be on that level.

Mickey groans. "There goes staying in all day. Fuck." He gets up and Ian, for a terrifying moment, thinks he's walking to Ian. But he walks past and goes into the bathroom. Ian can hear the shower start, and he lets out a long breath. Mickey appears in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you sure you don't want to join me?" he asks, and his voice is so fucking seductive. Ian eyes him for a moment, glances over his naked body, and swallows hard. Mickey's fucking attractive, and he's in shape, and Ian is so, so tempted. He holds back though, because he isn't sure that joining him is a smart idea. It feels weird, like he's fucking someone else's boyfriend. Even though Mickey is technically his boyfriend. God fucking damn it.

"I don't think you want me to," Ian says, smiling at him softly. "I'm so hungover I'm sure I'm only going to slip and give you a black eye."

Mickey rolls his eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time," he says, and then closes the door behind him when he goes back into the bathroom. Ian feels embarrassed for a second, and then gets confused, because he's embarrassed over a moment he doesn't remember happening.

Ian is making breakfast in the kitchen when Mickey comes out of the shower, dressed in clean clothes. He's glancing at his phone, and he hasn't said anything, so Ian is guessing that the econ thing is still a thing. Thank god.

Mickey comes up behind him to reach for a glass (something that had taken ages for Ian to figure out: where things were in the cupboards), and he brushes up against Ian's back. Mickey smells clean, soap something spicy, and Ian wants to press his face into Mickey's neck. It's a weird feeling, and Ian shakes his head, trying to get it out of him. This-this isn't real.

Mickey kisses him again when he leaves, mouth lingering on Ian's for a moment. There's an expression in his eyes that Ian can't read, and it makes something in Ian's chest expand. Before Ian can ask Mickey about it, though, Mickey is saying goodbye and is out the door.

-

Ian decides not to go back to sleep. The last time that had happened, he'd woken up here again, so he fucks around the apartment, unsure of anywhere else to go. He watches TV for hours, alternating between shows and movies, and there are some movies and shows on the TV that Ian knows hasn't aired yet. It's so fucking strange. After that, he becomes too antsy, so he starts pacing through the room. It's only about three in the afternoon. He needs to kill time.

Mickey comes back around 5:30, complaining about people in his group. They start to cook dinner together, and Ian can't get over the domesticity, reminding himself, Dating a year, dating a year, dating a year. They talk about Mickey's group the entire night, and Ian is proud that he's managed to avoid any other type of conversation, before watching TV. Ian forces himself to relax against Mickey's chest, telling himself: Dating a year, dating a year, dating a year. People who have been dating for a year are fine with cuddling their boyfriend. Ian is fine. He's fine.

When they finally go to bed, Ian pretends to fall asleep, arm wrapped around Mickey's waist again. When Mickey falls asleep-Ian's not sure how he knew the moment Mickey did-Ian sits up against the headboard, watching the clock. He's not going to fall asleep.

It's a strange thing, though. When the clock hits 12:00, it's like he falls asleep immediately.