Chapter Text
Some people emotional eat. They think maybe a donut will ease the pain so they eat one, then two, pretty soon they go back for the whole box giving them a short lived sense of accomplishment. Then, instead of feeling satisfied, they feel even more like a worthless piece of shit then when they started. He didn’t binge on donuts. No he buried his wounds in something far less sweet but just as indulgent.
Vodka.
McCormicks to be exact. The stuff that had the good burn. Some people say boo to cheap vodka and to those people he would say fuck you. His vodka might not be top shelf be but there was plenty of it, enough to drown the pain shot after shot and in the end that’s what mattered.
His phone kept going off. The screen was currently lighting up, the buzzing sound filling the room like a pesky fly that wouldn’t go away. It had been two weeks since his encounter with Mickey. Two weeks since he felt the affliction of a broken heart, something he’d only experienced this once. He stopped caring about anything outside the 4 walls of his apartment. He was ignoring everyone and when he wasn’t taking shots of vodka he was sleeping. Lonely days turned into cold nights where he would toss and turn, lost in wayward thoughts of inadequacy where he would question the meaning of his existence. He couldn’t remember the last time he took a shower or when he ate something other than the pop tarts, if he ate those at all. Eating wasn’t on his agenda, neither was drinking unless it burned his throat going down and even then he was finding the copious amounts of alcohol might be able to drown out his thoughts but they did nothing for the emptiness growing inside him.
The one thing he was consistently doing even though it seemed pointless, was taking his meds. It was too hard to find the right dose and he didn’t want to face the 3 D’s of med adjustments; drowsiness, dizziness, and dinginess. He didn’t understand why he was taking them though. They didn’t keep him from sleeping 16 hours a day, they didn’t force him to pick up his phone or answer his door, and they certainly didn’t shut down the voices in his head whispering about what a failure he was. He probably lost his job but that wasn’t a concern to him. His soul felt vacant and no amount of money or comic books could fill the void.
He wasn’t stupid, he knew the signs. It would be nice to think he was depressed because he was hurt, because his heart was shattered. That was a big part of it but the honest truth was he was in a low and he didn’t want to get out of it. What was the point? Why try to face a new day when the future held nothing special? B0ss B0y was supposed to be his future. They were going to conquer the world together, maybe even have a family. He’d thought about it when he was younger, he loved being a big brother and he would make a good dad. With Craig the thoughts became suppressed but they still lingered. How was he supposed to be a Dad and teach a small mind the novelties of life when one bad day could put him down for weeks or worse lift him up to the point where he could eat bad decisions for breakfast followed by no sleep for lunch and dinner? At least with a partner, someone who cared about him, understood him, he could come out on the other side semi-stable. Feeling human. The thought of this being his life and facing it alone was enough to keep him in his bedroom curled up under the covers in a warm cocoon of despair and anxiety. The what-ifs plagued his mind leaving him paralyzed to do anything but think and cry. It was a vicious cycle of misery, pain and self-loathing.
Today was like yesterday and the day before, and the day before that. He woke up to a dark room, his shades had been drawn to leave him in complete darkness. He was to the point the depression was relatively comforting because throughout everything in his life, it was one of the few things he could always count on. People were wrapped in balls of mystery and deceit but his emotions were constant.They never pretended to be something they are not.
He had bad days where he through on a fake smile but he still felt like he was dying inside. Then there were the days when he sat in a room filled with people, looking emotionless and void that he could be feeling brief moments of happiness. He could still catch a glimpse or two of serenity, or contentment and he used that to keep going but sometimes it just didn’t seem worth it. He would never be normal, never be able to think, feel and act the way others believed he should. When he was leveled out he didn’t feel like himself but for the most part he felt ok, the thing is it never lasted. Nothing did.
B0$$B0y420 was Mickey Milkovich. His heart twinged with a sharp pain when he thought about his betrayal. He couldn’t conceive why Mickey let the charade go on so long. The man enjoyed his power, he thrived when he had the upper hand but he thought there was more to him then the shark he appeared to be.
Over the last year he’d grown to see a side of Mickey that was making him question his values, his moral compass was off kilter. There were nights clouded with dreams of skin touching skin where he would wake up with his chest drenched in sweat and his cheeks rose red. He had wondered if he was falling in love with someone who stood for everything he was against, the tyrant who destroyed his livelihood and his mother's legacy? How could any sane person see past those things?
He did.
He began to see an entrepreneur, a smart businessman who liked nice things but liked to treat others. A kind soul whose roots were buried deep in the dirt from the back of the yards and who walked the same streets as he did. Mickey worked his whole life to earn the reputation of ] that followed his name. He was beginning to believe the man wasn’t vindictive snake, he just won the coin toss. It’s not personal, it's business. Where Mickey ended and Boss Boy began was blurring in his mind. When it was revealed that his confidant for the last two years was the same man he was trying so desperately not to fall for, it made his heart swell with a warm happiness that was short lived. Once the inflated feeling traveled from his heart to his brain it deflated into a shriveled mess because Mickey knew the truth. He knew that he was Comic Book Luver. Not the whole time but when he found out he kept it a secret like a coward. If he would have told him then maybe he wouldn’t have wasted his time. Instead, he fell in love with both the man and the screen name leaving his heart to be trampled on and torn to pieces. How could he be so oblivious? All the signs were there but he was blinded. How could he be so stupid? Mickey’s mannerisms, the things he said, the things he knew, the truth was sitting in front of him this whole time and he refused to see it. He chose to ignore the little signs, that itchy feeling that had a small voice in his head asking..could it be you? What did you just say? How did you know that? These were the thoughts that circled in his brain. He chose to dismiss them because it was impossible. It couldn't be.
He couldn’t sleep anymore. He turned onto his back and stared little bumps on his ceiling. His body was stiff from to much sleep and his stomach rumbled from the lack of food. He drew in a deep breath and grimaced when the smell of dirty dishes, vodka, and his own self wafted up to his nose. He was in serious need of a shower and maybe a new set of sheets.
He groaned as he sat up and faced his reality. He let one foot slip off the bed then another onto the cool wooden floor. He looked over to the nightstand where his phone was resting, the flashing light of missed calls and messages signaling him like a beacon. Yeah... Not yet. That was a step for another day, right now he needed to focus on basic maintenance and maybe try to eat something. His hole was deep, dark and already the nagging thoughts started telling him to lie back down. He needed to try but it would be a slow climb out of it.
**
He checked his phone again. Nothing. He shouldn’t be surprised. He texted Ian every day for two weeks. He called and left voicemails but not a peep, he’d been ghosted.
He understood why Ian was hurt but he didn’t get a chance to explain himself. Ian saw this as some villainous game to toy with his emotions when that couldn’t be further from the truth. When he turned around and walked back to Lulus that night it wasn’t so he could fuck with Ian Gallagher and get in the last laugh, no it was because C0micB00kLuv3r was his soul mate. He could feel it in his bones. The man brightened his dark days and put a smile on his face when he forgot how to do it himself. He couldn’t imagine not having him in his life.
Ian didn’t do anything to him except stand in his way, he was stubborn and determined. What he did wasn’t personal, it was business. How was he supposed to tell Ian he knew. He was expected to explain how before the takeover, the drama and tears they there were just two men who met online. Was he supposed to tell him that every day for the last year, the thing he looked forward to more than the money and fancy restaurants, were the text messages about ladybugs and sunsets? Should he have told him even though you don’t like this side of me I know your in love with the real me, the side I save for the people that matter? Was he supposed to expose himself and lay it all out on the table?
No fuckin way.
Ian would have shot him down in a heartbeat. He didn’t know the real him back then and the guy didn’t want to. Even now, he was still kept at arms distance though it seemed with each day that distance became shorter. That was all in the past. Now it spanned across space and time. Ian Gallagher would become the one that got away and he would grow up telling the woeful fairy tale of two star crossed lovers to grandchildren.
He’d been fighting the urge to go see Ian. The constant feeling pulled at him in the night when his mind would settle from the day and he would picture Ian huddled alone on the couch or in his bed. The worst was when he pictured them together; playing guitar hero, eating cookies or watching movies. He would reminisce on the gentle touches and flirty glances that made his heart jump, and the goofy smile became a permanent part of his wardrobe whenever he was around the redhead. Those moments that were lost forever.
What would he say? Where would he start? He couldn’t bare the thought of Ian not being in his life.The boy wasn’t talking to him and he told him pretty clearly to fuck off but his number was still in his phone and his pain was still in his heart. Ian was very much with him even if they hadn’t talked in two weeks. If he saw the boy and the truth came out then Ian could tell him he never felt the same, it was all a mistake and to go their separate ways.
That….he couldn’t handle that.
“Did you hear a damn thing I said boy?” Terry slapped the desk making him jump from his seat.
“Fuckin what? Say it again!” He folded his arms and leaned back in his desk chair. He hated these meetings. Terry and Charlie would sit there pretending to play nice when he knew the truth. They despised him and only followed his rule because of the money.
“Whew boy,” Charlie licked his lips and glanced at Terry giving him a look of disapproval. “You’re Daddy ever talked to me like that I’d tan his hide.”
He clenched his jaw and glanced at his phone, hoping in the ten seconds that passed he would see a text message but again there was nothing. He looked back to his Grandfather, “Good thing we’re all fuckin adults here then aint it? I’ll talk how I wanna talk and if you got a fuckin problem there’s the door.” He rubbed at his temples and scanned the room until his eyes landed on the clock. The client would be here in 10 minutes. There was a new product being released by a company he worked with. He might hate meetings because it meant being in the same room with two homophobic pricks but he enjoyed his work. It made every day exciting even when his mood was sour and his mind was consistently drifting to the unanswered calls and messages that he carried with him in a tiny box in his pocket. He needed a good distraction.
The company he was meeting with sold magic classes.
Yeah...that was a thing.
His logic was if people are interested in superheroes and Dungeons and Dragons then why wouldn’t they be interested in magic. Make Your Magic not only had a full collection of do it yourself magic and how-tos, but they offered hands-on classes that could be taught on location. They wanted to do a magic show for the public to advertise the classes and release their products.
Charlie tapped his pencil against the table then sighed,
“Kid I don’t understand why you are waistin your money on this magic shit. No one is goin to pay to learn somethin they could see on the RedTube. They can learn it for free.”
“Dad,” Terry chuckled and patted his Grandfather's leg. “It’s YouTube. Red Tube is a porn site.”
“Ha! So it is. Even better.” Charlie wiggled his brows then turned to him. “You should check out some of that porn Mikhailo, maybe it’ll get you off that aids track.”
“I’ve been tryin to get him right for years Dad, no amount of pussy will do it. He just wants to suck dick and fuck fairies, fuckin disgustin.”
“Holy fuck.” He tossed his head back and closed his eyes trying to drown out the all too familiar conversation. “Can we not, we have people comin up here any fuckin minute.” He lifted his head and looked at his family with a stern face, “You can’t say that shit when they’re here. It’s fuckin ignorant for one and offensive. People aren’t a bunch of homophobic assholes like in your day Charlie.” He narrowed his eyes on his father, “Please control him. I can’t have some stupid bullshit spoutin off that could ruin this.”
Charlie eyeballed Terry. “Just tryin to save the kids soul son. A little porn could fix him right up. I mean it. I saw plenty of faggots drop dead from that HIV.” His Grandfather locked eyes with him and gave a shrug of his shoulders, “You ask me, that’s what you get for bein an abomination, that and an eternity in hell.”
“Jesus fuckin Christ I can’t listen to this anymore!” He jumped up from his chair just as the door opened. “Get out, both of you. I’m done.”
Terry looked at his grandfather then back at him, “Think about what you’re doin boy. You can’t kick out blood. You’d be nothin without us.”
“HA!” He laughed dryly then rubbed at his nose, “That’s fuckin funny. Hi-larious actually.” He walked around the table to where the pair was sitting and leaned down. “I made this fuckin company from nothin. I built it with my money, my fuckin time and MY effort,” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Now get your homophobic asses out of my office. You’re fired.” He stood up straight, “Terry you’re a terrible fuckin person, I spent so much time tryin to get your approval I forgot to recognize that. I don’t need or want anythin from you, go infect someone else.” He looked over at Charlie, “And you..you’re worse then him which I didn’t think was humanly possible. You may be a wiz with money Charlie but your a shit human bein, I’m glad when I came back I finally got to meet the man who made this,” he gestured to his Dad in disgust, “And now it’s been my much awaited fuckin pleasure to tell you yes I’m a fuckin faggot. I suck dick and I’m currently in love with someone who I want to bend me over this fuckin table.” He wrapped his knuckles against the wood earning wide eyes from his family, “Yeah you heard it right. This fairy takes it up the ass and guess what?” He leaned back down touching the back of both chairs, “I fuckin love it. Now get out and leave me to my faggy ways and my multi million dollar company.” He pushed their chairs hard then stepped back pointing to the door.
Charlie stood there glaring at him. “You’ll burn for this Mikhailo. God sees everything and you will burn.”
Terry grabbed his grandfather and headed to the door. He looked over his shoulder as they walked past the client. “You’re no Milkovich. As far as I’m concerned I have two sons. You’re dead to me.”
“Fine! GET OUT!” He watched as his family walked out the door and even though his words were harsh and confident...his heart hurt. He rubbed at his nose then the room filled with the sound of applause. He looked around to see the Make Your Magic team clapping with wide smiles on their faces. His lips turned up and he let out a small laugh. “Thanks. I didn’t want you to see that shit. My apologies” He smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in his suit jacket then walked around to his chair, “Thank you. Please take a seat.”
*
How did they make Lucky Charms taste so magically delicious? It could be his lack of food over the last two weeks but after one bowl he needed a second then a third. He watched Ink Master on Spike TV and laid on his couch. He was starting to feel more human. The shower helped. It was refreshing and felt like he was washing away more than just dirt. It was like he was shedding his skin and preparing to re-enter the world very...very slowly.
His most daunting task was still lingering but he was finding it harder and harder to ignore. Everytime he would walk by his room he saw his phone on the charger. The facebook notifications, the missed calls and texts, the emails from work. The responsibilty. It was enough to make him curl back up into a ball and wish it all away. Too bad it didn’t work like that.
Some people say depression is just a state of mind but it’s far more than that. No one wants to sleep all day and listen to their mind criticize and crucify their very existence. He came out of a low and thought nope not ready lets do it again. It was like a blanket that wrapped you up tight until it suffocates you and you fall into it’s mercy. You can fight back and sometimes you can push past it but when it feels like you can’t move, can’t breathe, cant ...anything. That’s not a state of mind, it’s a state of being. When he woke up this morning the blanket seemed easier to move in and as the day progressed he could feel the life slipping back into his body enough to start trying to push it off.
That being said the phone could wait another day. He had explaining to do for just falling off the grid and that meant acknowledging what happened and he just...he wasn’t ready. He wanted one more day to find his big boy pants and his paint brushes so he could wear his mask and try to move on.
*
He couldn't wait anymore. He wanted to see Ian. The pull was too strong. After that meeting, he felt adrenaline, a confidence he hadn’t felt in a long time. He said it before and he’ll fuckin say it again.
Ian was his soul mate.
He got into his car and drove the 20 minutes to Ian’s apartments. He parked and walked over to the front door and pushed the buzzer.
“Noo ugggh” Ian groaned as he crunched down a spoonful of cereal. The sound was deafening as it echoed through his apartment.
Not. Gonna. Happen.
Today was for sweatpants and takeout. It’s was his pregame. He wasn’t ready for whoever was on the other end of the buzzer so he decided to ignore it.
“Fuck,” Mickey kicked at the door then turned and leaned against the wall. He didn’t really think this through. What was he supposed to do now, stand around like a creeper and wait for someone to not pay attention and let him sneak in behind them?
He could do that.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a deep drag. Who knew how long he would be fucking standing here. He planted the smoke between his lips and pulled out his phone to check the time. It was 6:30pm. Ian had to be home, the guy owned a bike and took the train everywhere. Nothing in his schedule would make him home later than 5pm. He pulled his cigarette from his mouth and ashed it before returning to the buzzer panel. He pushed on Ian’s number relentlessly but still nothing. “Ugh Damn it!.”
“Um excuse me?” A small voice came from behind him and he turned to see a girl maybe 11 or 12. “Mr you can’t smoke here see.” She pointed to the sign against the building.
He rolled his eyes and dropped his smoke snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe against the pavement. “Sorry, locked myself out and I’m waitin for my friend to come let me in.”
“Oh,” the girl smiled and pushed passed him entering a code into the door. It clicked and she held it open. “Here you go. I hope you find your friend and remember you can't smoke it’s against the rules and it’s icky and stuff ok?”
He laughed, “Ok, thank you.” He walked down the hall to the elevator. Once he stepped inside there was no going back, no pussying out. It's now or never.
The metal doors opened and he walked through them trying to remember the sense of confidence he had earlier at the office. If he could tell Terry and Charlie how he really felt he damn sure could tell Ian.
The elevator dinged and he took a deep breath before stepping out. “You got this Milkovich, be honest. Show him he loves you too. He has to love you.” He walked around the corner and to the end of the hall. When he reached Ian’s door he could hear the sounds of TV laughter and loud voices. He rapped his knuckles on the door.
Ian froze. Who the hell was at his door? It wasn’t his family because they would make way more noise, Fiona would be talking into the door and Lip would be chastising him to open it up. He sat there closing in on himself and stared down the door until it was all he could see. He didn’t want to open it, he didn’t want to acknowledge whatever real life problem was behind it.
“Gallagher I know you’re in there, I need to talk to you.” Mickey knocked again. “I aint leavin.”
“Go away!” No way was he talking to Mickey. He never wanted to see the brunette snake again. He told him this, so why was he here. What could he possibly have to say to him that would change what he did. There was no justifying his actions so why would he let him try? “I don’t want to talk to you, Mickey. We’re done ok just...” he pulled his legs to his chest. “Leave.”
Ian voice sounded frail, like he hadn’t talked for days. It was soft and fragile making his heart ache all over again like it did that day on the baseball field. “Ian please, 5 minutes. That’s all I’m askin.” Ian said nothing but now that he knew he was home he wasn’t going anywhere without saying his piece. “Damn it Gallagher,” he knocked again, “Just open the door. Let me say what I gotta say and I’ll fuck off. I promise you’ll never hear from me again, if that’s what you want.”
His feet were moving before his heart had the chance to tell them no. He turned the lock on his door and pulled it open to reveal Mickey standing there with a furrowed brow and a worried look in his eyes. “That is what I want.” He crossed his arms and stared down the man in front of him. “You got 5 minutes.”
Mickey scratched at his neck, “Can I come inside at least? You’re neighbors don’t need to know our fuckin buisness.”
Ian breathed in deep clenching his jaw then stepped to the side. When Mickey stepped in he shut the door and leaned against it. “3 minutes.”
“But you just said 5 minutes 10 seconds ago.”
“2 minutes.”
“Holy fuck ok.” Mickey walked over to the couch and sat down. “Can you at least sit down?”
Ian rolled his eyes and walked over to the couch sitting down next to Mickey, he made sure to sit as close to the edge as possible.
Mickey could feel the distance between them and it was bigger than the one person gap on the small couch. He pulled his smokes from his pocket and lit one up before turning to Ian, “Want one?”
“Talk or leave,” Ian said bluntly. He was not in the mood for a serious talk with the man who broke his heart, let alone chit chat.
“Okay, okay.” He took a drag and glanced away. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I was a coward alright. I didn’t think you’d be able to see past all the shit that happened.” He looked over at Ian, “That’s it. It was nothin malicious, I wasn’t tryin to scheme or pull a fast one I just..”
“You what Mick huh? You what? There’s no excuse for what you did, how can I ever trust you? How do I know what was real?”
“It was all real damnit.” He snuffed out his cigarette and turned to face Ian, “All of it. That was me. I am B0ssB0y and I am Mickey Milkovich. The only difference is you didn’t know that someone who can talk for hours about comics and food and mindless bullshit could also be a ruthless, take no shit businessman. That never occurred to you did it?”
“No it didn’t.” He stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? That night at Lulu’s instead of making me feel like you didn’t want me why didn’t you tell me Mickey.” He laughed lightly and ran his hand through his hair, “You lied to me. You sat there and lied to my face.”
“I saw you in the window that night and I turned around to leave. I was going to stand you up and never talk to you again.”
He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t stop himself. He walked over and sat on the couch fixing his gaze with sapphire blue eyes, “Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I was in love with C0micB00kLuv3r.” He grabbed Ian’s hand. “The thought of not seein those stupid messages about the weather and squirrels ..you made me see things differently. Then I thought back to that day in the bookstore when I watched you read Garfield and I knew it..”
Ian swallowed thickly, “Knew what?”
“That I loved you Ian, not your screen name so I turned around and went to meet you but you didn’t want to see me. The look on your face when I walked up to your table” Mickey let go of Ian’s hand and scoffed, “It was like I was a monster, a disgustin villain or somethin so I decided to play the part, be an asshole.
“You thought that would make me like you?”
“I didn’t care if you liked me, the minute you saw me every sweet part of you left and all that we were left with was enemies. I knew if I told you it would ruin everything.”
Ian turned away in disbelief, “You ruined everything anyways.”
“No, I love you.” He reached out to touch Ian’s shoulder but the man cringed at his touch. “I wanted you to fall in love with me, that’s why I did it. Even if I was an asshole I still liked you. I thought if I backed off online and showed the real me in person you would fall for me instead. I wanted to tell you Ian.”
Ian raised his eyes to meet with Mickey’s. “You could have told me. I wouldn’t..I..”
“What? You tellin me you wouldn’t have hated me even more if I told you before you got to know me? Don’t kid yourself Gallagher.” He scooted closer to the redhead, “I couldn’t risk loosin you, not online or in person. I love you, You’re under my skin man,” he grabbed Ian’s face, “The fuck can I do?”
He pulled his face free from Mickey and stared at the ground. He didn’t know what to feel or what to say. He wanted to curl back into his bed and close his eyes. Erase this last year and start over.
He felt his eyes prickle and decided that it was time to go. He did his part, he laid it out on the line for Ian and that was all he could do. He stood up and walked towards the door, “Told you this before Ian, I can’t change the past. All I can do is try and make it up to you now.” Ian sat there head down still avoiding him, it was like he was completely shut off. “Fine. Done is done then. Said what I had to say.”
Ian sat there watching as Mickey walked towards the door. If he let him leave then that was it. Goodbye BossBoy, goodbye Mickey Milkovich. No more late nights filled with the man’s laugh and popcorn being thrown at each other, no more long days brightened by a simple text on his phone about pizza toppings. Mickey poured his heart out to him and for the first time since that night two weeks ago he felt like that empty hole inside him wasn’t so deep. When Mickey walked in his apartment to begin with, it hurt his heart because a part of him knew he loved him. He was done fighting that part. It might take a while for him to trust the man like he did before but if he could do it after everything that happened with his bookstore, he could do it with the belief that Mickey was his soulmate. His mother used to tell him that the best things in life usually come with the highest price and that didn’t mean money. It meant sometimes you have to leave yourself vulnerable and trust your instincts to discover true happiness.
Mickey went to reach for the door handle when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was being spun around to face Ian.
He studied Mickey’s face then closed the distance between them pressing their lips together in a hungry yet passionate kiss. “Never lie to me again,” he sighed then pushed Mickey up against the door roughly.
“Never.” Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian taking in the warmth of his body pressed against him. He lifted his hand to cup the side of Ian’s face as there lips moved with one another.
Ian pulled back and grabbed Mickey’s hand firmly before turning around pulling him back to his room. It wasn’t until he entered that he immediately regretted it. His room was trashed. You could tell he’d been living in it for quite some time. “Sorry..I didn’t know you were..I wasn’t expectin..”
Mickey pulled Ian back towards him and pressed his fingers against his lips “Shut..up.” His eyes scoured the room then landed back on Ian. “Don’t apologize for shit.” He climbed onto the bed with Ian and lay down next to him. “So this is it. You know everythin Comic Book Lover.”
Ian took a deep breath then reached out pulling Mickey close, “Yeah, and so do you.” He laughed lightly and ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair, “You really want to get involved with this hot mess BossBoy?” He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, “My life is a rollercoaster.”
Mickey turned on his side and rested his head in his hand as he studied the man next to him, “I’m ready to ride Gallagher.” He reached out and grabbed Ian’s hand, “That means for better or worse, sickness and health and all that other shit.”
He turned his head to meet Mickey’s, “You’re a fuckin dork.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss against his lips, “And...I think I love you.”
Mickey pulled back and raised his brow, “You think?”
“Shut up.” Ian grabbed Mickey pulling him close again and rested his forehead against Mickey’s, “I love you.”
“Good.” Mickey closed the distance between them.
This was it. That moment in life's puzzle where you that missing piece that connects everything together. Money, notariety, fear...it meant nothing when compared to love.