By: stubliminalmessaging
Summary:
Mickey and Ian run away together. Away from everything in the south side just to be together.
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Ian knew that Mickey would freak out if he suggested it, so he put it off as long as possible. Unfortunately, when an impending shotgun wedding was creeping up on them (less creeping, more sprinting, but still) they didn't exactly have a ton of time for Ian to put it off.
"We should leave," Ian blurted out while they were at work. Ian had thought Mickey would stop working at the store to avoid him after the incident with his father, but he must have been desperate enough for money to work for it. Mickey looked up from the magazine he'd been leafing through. "Run away."
"What, like run away from home?" Mickey asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I missed the part where we became whiny fourteen year old girls whose parents won't buy them a car."
"What, do you're totally happy at home?" Ian asked. "Shit's peachy at the Milkovich House of Horrors?"
"It's the same as it's always been," Mickey ground out. "How's it gonna be any fucking better anywhere else?"
"Well you won't be worried to some hooker, for one," Ian said. "You actually wanna marry her?"
"Of course I don't wanna fuckin' marry her," Mickey said, throwing the magazine back on the rack and storming out to the back door. Ian locked the door and put up the sign and followed him back.
He found Mickey sitting at the delivery door having a smoke, legs hanging out of the rolled-up garage door. Ian sat down next to him and their knees knocked and Ian felt good.
"We need to get away. You need to get away," He held his hand out for the cigarette and Mickey gave it to him. "You know your dad had you raped, right?"
Mickey didn't respond to that.
"You can't keep living with him. He abuses you."
"Yeah, just like nine out of ten dads in the South Side," Mickey said, rolling his eyes. "I can take it. You're being a fucking drama queen."
"Because this is serious," Ian insisted. "This is your life, Mickey. You think you'll get married to her and play house with your kid a little while and your dad will get off your back? He's ruining your life and you're letting him."
"Grow the fuck up. Don't act like you know a thing about my dad," Mickey growled. Ian didn't argue and Mickey simmered down a bit. "Why you actin' like I got a choice in this?"
"You do," Ian told him. He crushed out the butt of the smoke on the pavement beside them. "You could run away with me."
