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abundanceofnots · 4 years ago

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Prompt! Mickey giving V wedding advice

Ian mindlessly scrolled through his Instagram feed. It was just something to pass the time with, keep him occupied while he waited. He wasn’t gonna lie, though. That damn thing had a knack for always stringing him on for much longer than he intended, and more often than not, he found himself tapping away on photos of Fiona’s ex-boyfriend from ten years ago or some shit like that.

Trying to decide which part of this one needlessly intricate dessert construction (#cityperks #nightout #cheatday #lovemylife) was supposed to be the edible part, he reached for his beer and got momentarily confused when he realized the bottle was empty.

Oh, right. He must have gotten caught up in this weird bubble way harder than he thought because for a second there, he totally forgot that Mickey went to get the next round. How long ago was that?

Feeling a bit bad for blanking him like that, Ian looked around the Alibi to find him sitting at the bar, discussing something rather animatedly with V. It seemed like he didn’t even notice that Ian’s attention went elsewhere and, honestly, ouch.

“Hey guys,” Ian said when he came to stand by Mickey’s side, “have you seen my husband? We were kinda in the middle of a date.”

His playful grin was met by a disconcerted look.

“Shit. Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be.” Leaning his back on the counter, Ian made a show of checking Mickey out. “You’re hot. Maybe I should take you home instead.”

Mickey huffed a pleased laugh and shook his head somewhat self-consciously. Ian loved it when he got like that.

“We were discussin’ some weddin’ plannin’ shit,” Mickey explained then, making Ian aware of the stack of heavily bookmarked magazines lying open between him and V. “Figured you wouldn’t want any part in that.”

“But since you’re here,” V added as she handed Ian his beer, “you’re more than welcome to join us.”

Mickey was right. Ian really, really didn’t want to deal with that crap again, definitely not this early after he genuinely tried to give it a go himself. He was still shaking off the trauma of Mickey smacking him in the face with his special wedding planner notebook in the throes of frustration.

But even if he had to choose between being mildly annoyed at things like sappy decorations or napkins or flowers, and absolutely anything else in the whole fucking world, he would choose whatever Mickey was doing every single time.

“Or I could just hang out with someone else here,” Ian teased, prompting Mickey to get a quick look over his shoulder at the bar’s current occupants.

His brows shot up as he scoffed. “Ya, good luck with that.”

As Ian considered his options (several bearded hobos, two ladies in various stages of undress, a guy the size of a house giving him a murderous glare), he had to admit that Mickey was right again and slumped down on the stool next to him with anything but quiet resignation.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, he actually made effort to engage in their conversation. He showed interest by actively listening, nodded, and even let out meaningful hums when his opinion was needed, but every time he tried to suggest something of his own, Mickey and V shared a look and burst out laughing like he made a fucking joke. Ian had about enough of that.

He knew he was giving off strong petulant child energy as he sat there, sipped his drink, and silently rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help himself. This was already the longest hour of his life, and he’d only lived off the first quarter of it.

Everything got slightly more bearable when he felt Mickey’s hand on his thigh. It was just resting there, reminding him of their closeness.

“Most important fuckin’ thing is, don’t invite too many of your family members, because they’re most likely to eat and drink their way through the bar and don’t give one damn about how much it costs,” Mickey told V, his face scrunched into an aggravated grimace. “Also, if they’re anything like mine, they’ll just lurk around the gift table and steal your shit. And then you’ll have to go visit each one of those pussies to get it back.”

Ian gave a low snigger. That was, in fact, something Mickey did, you know. Said things like gonna catch up with my cousin Vinnie and then returned with a toaster, or his knuckles bruised and some cash in his pocket. Ian would never tell him this, but he was a big fan of shake-down Mickey.

“Something to keep in mind for the next one, then,” V noted slyly. “You know, like your vow renewal.”

“Our what?” Ian squeaked, choking a little on the beer.

This was the very last thing they needed right now because Mickey getting ideas meant whipping out his special notebook. No, thank you, ma’am.

“Nope,” Ian announced as he slid off his seat and started maneuvering his husband to do the same.

“Jesus, jumpy much, Gallagher?” Mickey chuckled but otherwise made no effort to stop Ian from pushing him toward the door.

“This was really nice, but I think we need to head home now. I’m afraid Mickey’s not gonna be available for more wedding planning sessions any time soon,” Ian grumbled without turning back. “Thank you, V! Bye, V!”

#anon you are welcome to kick my ass for this because i KNOW you must have had different ideas about it #i just thought it was a fun POV for this sort of situation #also i can't write V #thanks for prompting me and sorry if it was a let down!#my fics #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich #writing prompt

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