Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3728677.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shameless_(US)
  Relationship:
      Ian_Gallagher/Mickey_Milkovich, Ian_Gallagher/Kash_Karib
  Character:
      Ian_Gallagher, Lip_Gallagher, Mickey_Milkovich, Mandy_Milkovich, The
      Gallaghers
  Additional Tags:
      Drug_Use, Past_Child_Abuse, Angst, Depression, Bipolar_Disorder,
      depressed!ian, Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-04-12 Words: 2173
****** Unlit ******
by Lyesam
Summary
     Mickey's addicted to sex and cigarettes. Ian's addicted to Mickey.
The morning air bit at Ian’s skin. Winter was just arriving, the dew sticking
to grass blades and freezing on the tips. Ian took a deep breath, the air
burning right through his throat to his lungs, revitalizing him. Coming out to
his backyard and tucking himself away between the brick wall and shed calmed
his mind and let him breathe again when his family of six were getting too
much.
 
As much as he loved his family, he hated them. They were never cruel, but they
were always better.
 
Fiona was like the family’s mother. As the oldest sister she took care of
everyone and had the most important role in the household. She kept everything
together and without her, the family would’ve fallen apart. She held a quiet
confidence in her that made it look like she always was in control, though Ian
doubted she was.
 
Lip excelled at school and was being scouted by colleges left and right. He was
going to be the first Gallagher to go into college. He was the kind older
brother that every kid wanted, never doting on Ian but always looking out for
him and having his back. He took care of the kids, too. They looked up to him.
 
Carl was the king of his school, almost to the point where he was hero
worshipped. He kept the house lively and fun, always getting into mischief.
 
Debbie—the kid with the golden heart who raised money for charities and always
believed in their dad, no matter how many nights he didn’t come home for. She
brought a warmness no one else quite could with her faith.
 
Liam brought out everyone’s best side. He was so small that the family had to
pull together and help him, and without him Ian doubted the would’ve been half
as functional as they were now.
 
And then there was Ian.
 
Ian… didn’t think he had an interesting story. He was just a kid who didn’t
fail at anything, but didn’t exceed in anything either. He was always in the
middle, a background piece in the puzzle that was the Gallagher family, needed
to complete the picture, but not needed to hold it together. Ian scuffed his
foot on the floor and took a drag of his cigarette, watching the smoke as he
blew it to the sky.
 
“Fiona told you to quit.”
 
Ian looked down to see Lip standing at the entrance of the small alley, arms
crossed and shoulder leant against the tin. Ian took another drag and shrugged.
“I did.”
 
Lip laughed and walked closer, holding out his hand. “If you’re gonna smoke, at
least call me out the back and let me join.”

“Fiona will kill you too if she smells it, you know. She’ll say you’re
influencing me or something,” Ian teased, holding the cigarette just out of
reach.
 
Lip nodded then pounced on Ian, pushing his head down and they tussled,
laughing. Lip managed to grab the cigarette and stood back, sucking in his
cheeks. “Well that’s why we won’t get caught, huh?”
 
“Ian! Lip!” Fiona called, and Lip stubbed the cigarette out on the brick wall,
holding his finger up to his lips and edging further into the alley. He cleared
his throat then yelled, “be there in a minute Fi!” he pulled a can of deodorant
and mouth spray from his pocket and sprayed himself then Ian, chucking the mint
fresh to him. “How’d you know I’d be smoking?”
 
“I’m psychic,” Lip smirked then hit Ian on the shoulder. “Nah man, you looked
kinda down so I just assumed, you know?”
 
“I’m not down, just needed some quiet.”
 
“Sure,” Lip said, swinging his arm around Ian’s and pocketing his stuff. He
lead them back to the house, the smell of Fiona and Debbie’s cooking wafting
in. They both sat down at the table and Fiona give them a suspicious look
before shrugging her shoulders and passing them both plates filled with eggs
and toast. Fiona ran her hand through her hair and sighed, sounding ruffled.
“You got your test back Lip?”
 
“Yeah, I uh, I got a good score.”
 
Fiona leaned closer and opened her hands, gesturing for more information.
 
Lip rubbed the tip of his nose. “I got ninety seven.”
 
The table erupted in cheers, Ian’s included, though his were a tad more subdued
than the rest. He wanted to be happy for Lip, he did, but he was so frustrated
that he couldn’t be as good as him that it festered into an ugly anger that he
couldn’t catch hold of.
 
“A Gallagher, going to college,” Fiona laughed, “who would’ve guessed.”
 
“All right, well don’t get your hopes up, nothing’s decided yet.” Lip looked
embarrassed to be the centre of attention, and it frustrated Ian further that
he was so humble about his smarts.
 
“Please,” Debbie said. “We all know you’re going. Even daddoes.”
 
A hush fell over the table and someone cleared their throat. It was an unspoken
rule that they didn’t talk about their father if they could help it, but Debbie
bless her heart, always wanted to keep him included in the family.
 
Frank was an alcoholic to the nth degree. He barely held his job working at the
factory, and what money he did make was blown on whiskey and vodka. He was
functional, but just. He never hit the kids, but he might as well have from the
pain he inflicted on them with his continuous nights out and cruel words that
spit like venom when he was intoxicated.
 
Sober, he was a great man. He played with everyone and cooked dinner and did
the cleaning, renovated the house, but he was never sober.
 
Ian stood from the table and sent Fiona and shaky smile. “I gotta go, I’ll see
you later though.” He kissed Debbie on the top of the head and waved to the
rest, sharing a look with Lip before he ducked out the door.
 
 
 
The school was a five minute walk from the house, pretty much the only wise
investment Ian’s father had ever made. It was run down—the bricks covered in
moss and slime, but it was somewhere to go when Frank lay on the middle of the
carpet, a pool of vomit bubbling from his lips.
 
The building was so dull and grey it seemed to suck the life out of Ian when he
walked through the halls, passing a mixture of students from poor to rich, and
studious to delinquents. It was built in an area that was in between a rich
area and the hood, and so it made for an interesting mix of students. The rare
rich students cursed out their parents and the poor counted their blessings
managing to even make it into school. Despite the rough area, the school had
good success rates. Something Ian wasn’t a part of.
 
It wasn’t that he was dumb, he was just… average. And in this day and age,
average didn’t cut it anymore. Ian was average in everything he did, and he
cursed himself for it every day.
 
Ian walked to his classroom on the second floor and paused at the door when he
saw Mickey and his friends holding some poor kid Alex up against the window.
Now Mickey was anything but average. He had a dirty mouth, an explosive
personality, and a heart like a viper. Everyone was scared of the black haired
boy with the slack face and piercing blue eyes. Something about him just
instilled fear—which admittedly might have something to do with the fact he’d
held students outside the window several times when the teacher walked out from
the room. Ian was unfortunate enough to have Mickey in three of his five
classes, Maths, Biology, and English. Luckily his French and Health classes
were uninterrupted.
 
Alex looked to him with pleading eyes as Ian took his seat, and Ian turned his
face away, an ugly feeling stirring in his stomach. It wasn’t his business, he
thought, so there was no reason for him to get involved. Even though he and
Alex sometimes talked, Ian wouldn’t get between Mickey Milkovich and someone
else. It was a death sentence, and not one Ian was willing to take.
 
Alex was one of the rich kids, tall with dark hair and eyes—handsome. Also the
exact type that Mickey hated. He had a thing out for anyone who didn’t live on
the Southside, always saying they were ungrateful pricks who needed to be taken
down a peg.
 
Mr Karib walked in the door and Ian shot his gaze down, holding in a smile.
Mickey finally let go of the back of Alex’s neck and gave him a rough pat on
the shoulder, whispering something that made Alex’s face fall.
 
Mickey took the seat in front of Ian and his stomach dropped, just hoping he
wouldn’t catch the boy’s attention throughout the lesson. Usually Mickey sat at
the back, but today was apparently different. Ian curled his fists under the
desk and took out his things as quietly as possible, feeling like a mouse
circling a cat.
 
The role was called, and when Ian called here, his voice wavered and face went
red when Kash looked at him with a small smile. Mickey turned around in his
chair and looked Ian up and down once, an odd look on his face that Ian
couldn’t place. He didn’t take the time to study the expression, looking down
to his Biology work. He scribbled hastily through the lesson and let out a
relieved breath of sigh when everyone started packing away.
 
“Ian,” Mr Karib called just after the bell for morning tea sounded. “Come see
me about your test for a minute.”
 
Ian walked up on shaky legs and stayed on the opposite side of the desk, hands
folded in front of his stomach. “What about my test?” Ian asked, keeping
himself as composed as possible in front of the guy he liked.
 
Kash looked at him seriously and pointed to his test, tapping his grade. “Now,
Ian, I know you can do better than this.” The score he was pointing at was a
fifty, and he and Kash both knew that this was the best he could really do, but
they needed an excuse. “I suggest you stay after school today and I can give
you some notes on how to better revise section three.”
 
Ian felt a bump on his shoulder and looked up to see Mickey giving him a
crooked smile, and his knees wavered at the look, afraid of what it meant.
Mickey had never in his life paid Ian any attention, but now he was here
sending him a smile? Ian knew only bad things were to come when it involved
Mickey Milkovich.
 
 
Ian stopped at Kash’s classroom door, the back of his neck tingling. He let
himself in after knocking twice and noted the closed blinds surrounding the
classroom and smirked. Kash stood against the board, his arms crossed.
 
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
 
Ian grinned and locked the door, stepping closer until he was flush with Kash.
He leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, his hands immediately
strapping to his belt and undoing it with deft fingers. He pushed Kash back on
his office chair and got to his knees. He sucked Kash off slow—he didn’t have
to be home for another hour.
 
He and Kash had been fucking ever since the year started. They danced around
each other until finally Kash asked if Ian wanted to stay after class, and
without the boundaries of the people around them, they cracked and Ian sucked
him under his desk.
 
Ian liked it. He liked that Kash made him feel needed, even though he had a
wife. He liked that Kash gave him all this extra attention, not like it was at
home. With Kash, he felt like he was there,like he was needed. Kash was married
and couldn’t just fuck anyone, and Ian didn’t feel like nobody anymore when he
fucked into Kash.
 
Ian wiped his lips and stood, grinning at Kash. “You can repay me tomorrow, you
look way too tired to do anything right now.”
 
Kash lifted his hand in a small dismissal and let out a small laugh. “I’m beat.
Linda’s got me up at all hours of the night trying to have another kid. I said
we already have two and it’s enough, but she won’t listen.”
 
A stab of annoyance flushed through Ian. He knew logically that Kash was taken,
but it still hurt to remember it. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he cut off, rushing
out the classroom, annoyed at himself for being so immature.
He paused when he closed the door behind him, his stomach sinking and eyes
filling with tears. Leaning on the wall opposite was Mickey, his eyebrows
raised an unlit cigarette rolling between his grinning lips. “Didn’t think you
had it in you, Gallagher.”
 
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