#I get you hate the us military like genuinely idk how emphatically I can say I THINK YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT

[specialmouse]

Days a nonblack non American person on here has gone by without unnecessarily painting black Americans as possessing the same ontological evil as their white counterparts : 0

[gallavictorious]

obsessed with your little fic about south side gays going to mickey for advice. any chance you'd do an outside pov fic about mickey coming out? like idk maybe someone from the high school is like "wait, I thought Ian and Mandy were together"

“Sarah! Robbie! Hey, did you guys hear?” At the elated call, Robbie looked up from the photo Sarah was showing him of her latest painting and saw Leah barelling down the school corridor toward them, blue-streaked hair jumping and with Diego at her side, the tall boy easily keeping up with her even while walking at a much more measured pace.

Leah came to a breathless stop before them, cheeks flaming with excitement. She must have something good. ”Did you guys hear?” she asked again. “Mickey Milkovich is gay.”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she looked around wildly. “Shut up,” she hissed. “People hear you say that and word gets back to him, you’re dead.”

Robbie nodded emphatically because Sarah wasn’t kidding. Okay, so maybe dead was a slight exaggeration – but badly beaten? With maybe a few broken bones or even permanent injuries? Yeah, that was likely enough. Probably Mickey wouldn’t go after Leah, what with her being a girl and all, but he’d find someone close to her to take the punches. Might be her younger brother or Diego or even Robbie himself; someone would have to pay.

You didn’t mess with Mickey Milkovich. You didn’t mess with any of the Milkoviches, period, but Mickey was the worst of them; the smartest, the most ruthless and violent. His sister Mandy was in their year, and Robbie guessed he liked her okay: he'd made out with her once a couple of years ago, at Santa Sam's birthday party, and that had been more than okay, but he'd been so scared he'd do something wrong and she'd have her brothers come after him that he was mostly relieved when she never gave him another look after that. Mostly.

Leah, however, didn’t seem the tiniest bit intimidated as she sat down next to them. “No, no, he came out! Yesterday! Diego’s uncle was there and heard it, and he told us this morning!”

She looked to Diego for confirmation, which he offered with a nod. He didn’t speak much, Diego; more often than not he was happy to let Leah talk for the two of them. They’d lived next to each other since they were born, and had been best friends for about that long, too. Robbie envied them that at times; their easy, unquestioning closeness that defied all overt dissimilarity.

Sarah still wasn’t convinced. “Didn’t Mickey get married last year?” she asked, pocketing her phone. “He got some girl pregnant.”

“That’s the thing! They were having the christening last night, right, down at that shitty bar by the funeral home, and Mickey just stood up and told everyone he was gay! His wife was, like, standing right next to him! Diego’s uncle was there having a drink, and he said Mickey’s dad tried to murder him, like actually murder him, and there was a huge fight, and then the cops came.”

“Is Mickey okay?” Robbie surprised himself by asking. Giving a damn about Mickey Milkovich’s well-being was high on the list of things he’d thought he’d never do. The other boy was a few years older and since Robbie wasn't into drugs or any of the other stuff the Milkoviches dealt in, they'd never had any direct contact, but he'd heard the stories. Everyone had heard the stories: Robbie's older brother Damon had a friend who failed to pay for whatever on time, and it was Mickey who came to see him about it. He'd been fifteen and Ray nineteen but it wasn’t Mickey who ended up in hospital. “You stay the fuck away from that shit,” Damon had told Robbie as if Robbie needed telling.

He had liked making out with Mandy, though.

Leah shrugged at Robbie's question – I don’t know – but Diego cleared his throat and said: “I think so. His dad had just been released from prison on parole, so the cops brought him back in, but my uncle say he saw Mickey outside afterwards, so I guess they let him go.”

“But that’s not even the best part,” Leah interjected eagerly, probably feeling that she’d been left out of the conversation for too long. “Guess who he’s dating?” Before any of them had the merest whisper of a chance to guess she added: “Ian Gallagher!”

“What?” Robbie started, because okay, that was a genuine shock. Ian had been in their year too, before he dropped out and disappeared off the face of the Earth – though apparently he’d come home a couple of months ago, Sarah had seen him out and about. He hadn’t been back to school, however. “Um, didn’t Ian use to date Mandy?”

Robbie didn't really need to ask. Ian and Mandy had never been obnoxious about PDA:s the way a lot of their other classmates were, but they'd been hanging out like all the time in the last two years before Ian ran off, and hadn't been shy about holding hands and stuff.

It had made Robbie a little jealous, even if he'd rather die than say that out loud. Not because he'd been in love with Mandy or anything, but yeah, he wouldn't have minded getting with her again, maybe at some other party, if it hadn't been for Mickey and her other brothers. Seeing Ian being so unconcerned about the potential for griveous bodily harm if he pissed Mandy off –  

Well. It made Robbie feel like a pussy and he didn't much like it. He'd even heard something about there having been a bit of a scuffle between Ian and the Milkovich brothers – or had that been Lip? – but apparently not even that had been enough to scare Ian off.

And now he was dating Mickey. Damn.

Leah pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s how he and Mickey met,” she suggested, “through Mandy. That's so messed up.” Then her eyes brightened as a new and more exciting idea occurred to her. “Or maybe she was covering for them the whole time! Like, Ian came over to have a date with her, but really he was there to see Mickey. And she’d be on look-out and stuff, warning them if her father or any of the other brothers showed up.”

Sarah harrumphed in a way that might mean that she thought Leah was being an idiot, or that she was grudgingly agreeing with her.

Robbie still couldn't wrap his head around it. Ian had been easy-going and a little goofy but serious about his studies and with that weird military thing going on, and while it really wasn't that hard to think of him as gay, it was damned near impossible to think of him and Mickey Milkovich together. What would they even be doing? What would they talk about?

It didn't make any sense, but he supposed that wasn't really any of his business.

“Look, there's Mandy!” Leah sat up straight, eyes trained on their classmate as she appeared at the far end of the corridor. “Maybe I should go and –  “

“No,” Diego said quietly, and as always when Diego actually decided to speak up, Leah demured immediately, even if she did look a little disappointed.

Mandy walked over to her locker and pulled out some books. She didn't seem concerned about the whispers and furtive looks thrown her way. She was probably used to them.

She looked good, Robbie thought. Real good.

Sarah, who could be annoyingly perceptive at times, gave him a pointed look. “Don't even think about it,” she said. “You think Mickey Milkovich is gonna turn into a softie just because he's gay? Forget it. Nothing's changed, Robbie. You mess with Mandy and get her angry, you're still a stain on the pavement, whether her brother's into dudes or not.”

He hated that she was right. Hated that she knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. Maybe being really close to people was overrated and he shouldn't envy Leah and Diego so much.

“I wonder if they like kiss and stuff,” Leah mused aloud. “Or, oh my god, imagine if they held hands, like Ian and Mandy used to! Wouldn't that be weird?”

They agreed that it would, and then they talked of other things.

---

Robbie actually saw them a few weeks later, as he was heading home from another one of the piano lessons his mother still insisted he take. Ian and Mickey weren't kissing, or holding hands, or doing anything at all that suggested that they were more than just friends: they were simply walking down the street, bundled up against the cold in thick winter coats. Ian was smoking.

Looking at them, Robbie wondered briefly if maybe Leah had had it wrong after all. But it'd been the talk of the school for a day or two, and neither Mickey nor his brothers had showed up to murder anybody, so he guessed it must be true. Really, really strange, but true.

Robbie watched the pair as they crossed the street, turning left on South Union Avenue. Just before they disappeared around a corner, Ian handed Mickey his cigarette, and then they were gone.

---

When Robbie saw them next, and for the last time, it was several years later. He hadn't been back in Chicago since his family moved to Atlanta right after he graduated high school, but now Sarah was getting married to some guy she'd met at community college and she had insisted he'd come to the wedding. The drive up had taken almost twelve hours, with only two short breaks, and Robbie would have been happy to just grab a peanut bar and a can of coke from the vending machine before collapsing into his shitty hostel bed, but the machine had been broken. Of course it had. Reluctantly he headed out into the unusually warm Chicago night, intent on stopping by the first place that served anything even vaguely resembling food.

That happened to be The Alibi Room, a rundown bar that had been ancient even when he was still in high school. Robbie had never been: while rumor had it the bartenders weren't too concerned with checking the ID:s of younger patrons, it also had it as the favorite spot of the local lowlifes. It was probably still a good place to avoid, but right now Robbie was just too damned tired and hungry to care.

It was fairly crowded and as Robbie made his way to the bar he accidentally elbowed another patron, who just barely managed to keep from spilling his beer. “Hey, watch it,” the guy barked as he turned to glare at Robbie and damn. Mickey Milkovich.

Robbie just stared at him, too thrown to even voice an apology.

Mickey's brow furrowed and he seemed about to say something else – or do something worse – when a taller man moved up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy,” the other guy murmured, and yeah, that was Ian Gallager all right, taller than Robbie remembered him, and way more buff, but still with that same red hair. Ian looked up from Mickey to offer Robbie a bland smile, but then recognition must have kicked in, because he cocked his head to the side. “Robbie Jordan?”

Robbie nodded. Tried for a grin, even as he kept a wary eye on Mickey – who fortunately seemed to have lost all interest in him and had returned to nursing his beer. “Yeah. Hi, Ian. Good to see you.”

“You too.” Ian's smile seemed genuine enough. “It's been a while. You still live around here?”

Robbie shook his head. “Nah, I've been down in Atlanta for, oh, five years now. Just came back to see Sarah getting married. You remember Sarah O'Donnell?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I remember Sarah. She's getting hitched?”

“Yeah. Some guy from the North Side. Joe.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause. Robbie and Ian had never not been friendly, but they hadn't been friends either. Besides, Robbie was acutely aware of Mickey's presence, even if the guy was apparently and thankfully content to ignore him. He suddenly wanted to ask about Mandy: he hadn't really thought about her in years, but seeing Ian and Mickey brought back memories of the days when he'd thought about her more than he had cared to admit. He didn't ask, though; of course he didn't, not when Mickey Milkovich was standing right there.

Feeling a little flustered – and more than a little exhausted from the long drive – Robbie instead blurted: “So, you guys are still together?”

Ian raised an eyebrow, as if surprised, but smiled too, as if delighted. “You knew about that?”

“Uh, yeah. It was... You know, people talked. When, eh, Mickey came out.”

“Yeah, I bet they did.” Ian smiled even wider; Mickey just rolled his eyes and sipped at his beer. It occurred to Robbie that it must have happened right here in this bar, the coming out and the brawl and all that stuff Leah had been so eager to tell them about, way back when. Didn't that make it kind of weird for them to come here for drinks? If Robbie's dad had tried to actually murder him, Robbie sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to ever return to the place where it happened. But he guessed it was different for Mickey. He was probably used to people trying to kill him, and didn't think much of it. Heck, he migh just as well have offed a few people himself by now.

Robbie couldn't help but notice that Mickey didn't look quite as rough as he had when they were kids, though; if you squinted he might even be mistaken for a somewhat honest citizen, even if he'd still got those knuckle tattoos and –

And rings. On that finger. A furtive glance at Ian's hands revealed that yes, he did sport a matching set. Huh.

Ian must have caught him looking, because he smiled again, raising his hand slightly. “Yeah, we got married last winter.”

“Congratulations.”

Mickey drained his beer in one long gulp. “Are we going or what?” he asked abruptly, apparently having had enough of the conversation. “We promised Debbie we'd take Franny while she's out seducing Mrs. Robinson.”

Ian gave him a distracted glance. “Oh, yeah. Good seeing you, Robbie. Give my best to Sarah, yeah?”

He smiled again, and Robbie smiled back, and even dared to smile a little in Mickey's direction. Unsurprisingly, Mickey just stared at him blankly, but he didn't growl anything or punch Robbie, so Robbie counted that as a win. Maybe, maybe, there was even the smallest hint of a nod, just the fraction of an acknowledgment – or maybe he was just imagining things.

Ian and Mickey walked off without another word or a backwards glance, but as they stepped out the door Robbie saw Ian reach down to grab Mickey's hand. Saw that Mickey let him.

Hm. Well. He guessed they probably kissed now too.

---

A/N: Thank you for the prompt, nonnie! <3 It got away from me a little, but I hope you like it. As for your other ask and the fic I promised was forthcoming, it'll be a little longer – I'm not done with it and will have to spend the rest of the week writing an article (on fanfiction, no less!) so I can't say for sure when it'll be up. One day, for sure! ;)