Rhythm (Gallavich) Completed*

Chp 3: What are the Chances

A/N: This is Ian's POV.
Also - Ian and Mickey say "fuck" a lot. I say fuck a lot. This going to work out fine. LOL

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Ian stares at Mickey for a lot longer than he realizes.

He just stares.

He can't think of anything better to do while his heart turns over on itself and his stomach drops out. He should probably say something. Do something. Feel something other than "what the hell?"

Mickey's chest is starting to rise and fall at unnatural intervals, hitching up in a shudder and repeating the action before he ever exhales completely. His head is cocked down enough so that he has to roll his eyes up slightly in order to meet Ian's gaze and it's like they're locked onto each other. No one is breaking that type of eye contact.

A breeze flutters in from the window Mickey opened and brushes across Ian's face. It breaks him out of his trance enough to dumbly squeak out, "What?"

"I'm fucking pregnant," Mickey repeats.

"No...I mean...I heard the words. I just...I...huh – " Ian knits his brows and sits back on his heels. Ian's not an idiot. He actually did pretty well in biology but the question slips out of his mouth anyway. "How?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mickey snorts, which Ian sees as a marked improvement from hyperventilating. "We have a shit ton of sex." He raises an eyebrow at Ian and lets the words hang there.

Ian sighs in the back of his throat. Mickey's not lying. They do have an exorbitant amount of sex, really toe curling good sex, the type of sex that says with you for days.  "But...condoms? I should take up stock in one of those companies. That's how many condoms I buy."

"Condoms have failure rates," Mickey shrugs. "I took a test. It came up positive."

It's a moot point to argue the statistics at the moment because Mickey looks like he's gearing up for another attempt to break out the window and Ian feels like the world's worst confidant right now. He knows that condoms aren't fool proof and they've sweetened those odd by having a few broken condoms in the past. They've gotten careless and complacent after monogamously fucking for so long. "Mick..." Ian breathes out, grabbing the other man's wrist and tugging him. Everything falls into place with that simple gesture. It's like they tumble into each other, equal amounts of push and pull from both partners. "Mick, we can – "

Mickey cuts him off with a "shhh" and buries his face in the crook of Ian's neck.  "Can we just not talk about it for a few minutes? Can we just be us for a few minutes?" The "please" goes unvocalized but it is there in the way Mickey says the rest and the way he's trying to crawl underneath Ian's skin.

"Yeah, we can do that." Ian clutches Mickey's back, choosing to mimic his boyfriend and bury his face in the man's neck. Inhaling the familiar scent of his boyfriend, he closes his eyes. He feels Mickey twist his head enough so that he can place a kiss on the spot just above Ian's ear. Mickey's lips linger there, making it impossible for Ian to not untuck his head from his neck so their lips can graze.

Their heartbeats fill the silence.

Ian shifts to pull Mickey down towards the bed with him. Laying on their sides, they keep their foreheads touching and try to keep eye contact without going cross-eyed. When they're this close, Ian always gets a kick out of how hard it is to tell where one of them begins and the other ends. They press together so closely that they can feel the thrumming of each other's blood.