Miss me? (A gallavich story)

Mickey

What the hell was Mickey thinking? He told himself over and over again that he was done with Ian. He repeated that as a mantra during the fucking painful hours he spent covering up the "Galagher" tattoo with some elaborate tribal shit that Mickey wouldn't have ever naturally had on his body but hey, it got the job done of covering up the whole thing, and luckily the second time around it didn't get infected.

He could tell from Ian's last visit that at least for him, they were done. After that he told himself that he was done too.He had even almost caved and allowed himself to become someone's bitch, just to prove that he could still get off without him, but hadn't sunk that low, not while still in the can at least.

But being back in town was fucking him up. Every place had a memory traced back to Ian. To the point where Mickey didn't even care anymore, he eventually looked for him and when he couldn't find him, he resorted to asking Lip. It was bad enough hearing that he had someone new, it was worse to hear the pity in Lips voice when he told him.

That's when he finally started fucking with other people. Never the same person twice, he learned that the hard way,most of them where way too clingy, and Mickey didn't need that shit right now. At least not until he was able to find one that he didn't have to picture as Ian in order to even get hard.

He deserved better. That's what still believed now as he thought back to how it had felt to be able to touch Ian after all that time, to taste him. Fuck it, he was going to see him now, it wouldn't be too hard to find where that fireman lived, and apparently that's where Ian was staying now.

He was going to give Ian one last chance. He might love him, but he was nobody's bitch.

He's gonna cut the crap and make him choose, tonight. They could either pick up where they left off, of Mickey could finally move the fuck on with his life.