Chapter Text
There is an asteroid on a collision course with the earth.
The scientist from NASA are predicting they have at least five years before it becomes a major concern. In fact, they aren't even sure if it will actually hit Earth or just pass by barely causing any problems. An announcement is made to the public about it, stressing that they aren't sure what will happen, the best scientist in the world are working on it, and not to worry.
Apart from a few hundred, the people of world ignore any warnings and continue on with their lives. A few shuttle missions are planned to stray the course of the asteroid and track data on it's movements.
No one thinks too much more of it.
-
Mickey runs away from Chicago when he is fourteen.
His father is an angry drunk and his mother is a strung out drug addict. Mickey hates them both more than anyone else in the world and he knows that if they ever found out more about him, both of the intolerant assholes would hate him too - or at least hate him more than they already did.
One night, once everyone is deep in sleep, he packs a bag, grabs the keys to the family's old beat up car and slips out the back door. He drives until he reaches New York City and trades the car in at a dealership for an equally beat up truck. It's rough for awhile, as it is for any kid with nothing trying to make it the city, but Mickey is lucky. He doesn't look older than he is, but he's always had a way about him that makes people seem to think he is older and it doesn't take long before he gets a job working as a bouncer at a couple clubs. He finds a shitty little apartment in Brooklyn, spends the rest of the money he brought with him on the down payment. It's not much but Mickey never did need very much before.
He gets a text from Mandy nearly a year later, the loud irritating bing reminds him that he still needs to change his cellphone number.
Mom's dead. Cops found her under the El.
He doesn't answer, only changes his number the next day and mails Mandy enough money to get out of the house, maybe get her own apartment away from that shit hole.
He never looks back after that.
-
Ian doesn't get in to West Point but he does move to New York City, or as close as he can afford.
If he is being honest with himself, Ian never really believed that he would get into the college anyways. West Point was always a dream of his but he learned a long time ago that dreams didn't come true for people like him. That doesn't stop him for cursing his parents, the shitty Southside education he received, and the fact that one bad English essay overshadows his perfect JROTC record.
He keeps his pity party going for awhile, drinking away his sorrows and broken dreams for weeks. Then one night, smoking weed with Lip in the boys bedroom, he finally finds clarity. All Ian had ever wanted was structure and normality, something the Southside and the chaos of his upbringing had never given him, and he knows he needs to get out.
Two months later he turns eighteen, a day after that he's packing his bags and hugging each member of his family goodbye. He always liked the idea of New York metropolitan area, so that's where he goes.
It's harder than he thought it would be, but Ian's a Gallagher - he knows how to survive and thrive through a struggle.
-
Mickey thinks everyone in his apartment building is a fucking idiot.
He's getting his mail and trying to ignore a couple that can never seem to make it to their apartment before they start arguing. Mickey's not even sure if they live in the building, he's only ever seen them on the first floor throwing a fit; bickering back and forth about bills and laundry. They're miserable people, but Mickey finds some sort of twisted hilarity out of how dumb all their little spats are.
He chuckles to himself as he overhears the man saying; "It's my laundry Claire! I can wash it all together if I want to! I don't give a damn about whites, I give a damn about my time!"
Who the fuck really thinks this sort of thing is worth a full out screaming match?
"I do! I give a damn about the whites, Craig!" The woman cries back, Mickey thinks he can hear her starting to tear up. He wonders if they realize how their conversation would come off to anyone who had just walked in. Mickey overhears a quiet laugh from beside him and looks up to see a tall red haired man getting his mail.
Mickey can't help but gaze at him for a second - the redhead is built like a fucking Adonis.
The man looks over and grins at Mickey, his smile is so wide Mickey thinks his face might split and Mickey swears to god that his green eyes are sparkling. He doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful in real life and it's starting to throw him off. Mickey clears his throat and turns away.
"They're fucking ridiculous." Mickey mutters to the man, he looks up to see the man laughing quietly again and involuntarily smiles in return.
Mickey turns and rushes up the stairs before the redhead can say anything, wondering when the hell he moved in and how the fuck Mickey missed it.
-
Ian takes a total of two and a half weeks before he recognizes Mickey Milkovich.
Ian is moving in some of his stuff when he first sees the dark haired man flipping off an aggressive biker - a fucking pedal biker - outside of the apartment building. Ian is sure that he knows him from somewhere, though it really confuses him how he had managed to forget someone that hot. After that Ian starts to take a greater interest in the mystery man, using whatever opportunity he can to figure who he is.
Ian sees him walking up the stairs sometimes, or leaving the building, but each time Ian fails to place where exactly he knows the man from. It isn't until Ian runs into him getting mail while snickering at a bickering couple that Ian notices the signature 'FUCK U-UP' Milkovich tattoo's on his knuckles and remembers the youngest Milkovich boy that had run away.
It's no surprise Ian thinks Mickey is ridiculously hot, he did have the biggest crush on Mickey back in little league - not that he would have ever been brave enough to admit that to anyone at the time.
Ian catches Mickey checking him that day and grins. Over the next few weeks Ian begins to purposefully pass by Mickey more often just to see him biting his lips and running his eyes over Ian appreciatively.
Ian thinks that moving to New York and living two levels down from Mickey must have been his destiny.
-
Mickey's sitting on his couch trying to pretend he doesn't care.
It's a Tuesday at 6:43am, the television is on and Mickey's foot is tapping rapidly as he smokes a joint and clutches a half-full, warm beer. He tells himself he doesn't care either way and convinces himself that he's only paying attention to see if he actually has to drag himself to work or not.
The television lights up and the news show's title flashes across the screen, it changes to a news anchor looking solemn and more nervous than Mickey finds comfortable. After a long moment of silence the anchor begins to speak; "When the asteroid was discovered to be on a collision course with our beloved planet five years ago none of us thought much of it, today our final hope, one final space shuttle mission, was sent to destroy this asteroid. I am sadden to inform you, America, that this mission has failed. There is an estimated four weeks until impact, take this time to spend with your loved ones and say goodbye. It has truly been an honor reading you the ne-"
Mickey turns off the television, wanting to avoid seeing the sobbing mess the news anchor was quickly turning into. He scowls and finishes his beer, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest and pretends he's just glad he can stay home and get high.
Besides, half of what they say on television is garbage.
-
Ian definitely, kind of, hates everyone.
He guesses he's probably just jealous because he didn't have the foresight to go home earlier, when there were still trains and buses. Fiona had warned him early on that he should try to catch a train or something to get back to Chicago but he had waved her off, telling her everything would be fine and not to be nervous - besides he didn't have the money.
When the news comes he runs the entire day, punches a hole in his wall, and smokes a full pack of cigarettes before drinking a bottle of cheap whiskey to himself. In the morning he calls Fiona and apologizes, tries to convince her that he can walk or bike there, maybe he can even manage to steal a car. Fiona calls him an idiot and passes the phone to Lip, his older brother eloquently explains that shit is going to hit the fan.
"Just don't be stupid," Lip tells Ian after explaining how many mobs had already broken out in Chicago, "seeing us isn't worth dying early - we'll call you everyday Ian, it won't be the same but at least we can all be safe."
Ian concedes to their pleas and stays put, but that doesn't stop him from sitting on the front steps of his shitty apartment building, lighting his way through another pack of smokes and hating every single person wandering out with their bags packed. As he curses each person leaving he spots Mickey scowling and holding a large brown paper bag, walking back to the doors of the building like maybe he isn't leaving either.
Ian watches him and sees him glancing down to Ian, his scowl falters a bit and Ian waves. Mickey stares at him, once again scanning him and looking so completely delicious Ian wants to slam him into the wall and fuck him raw. Of course, Mickey just nods and walks past him into the building.
Ian decides he doesn't hate Mickey.
-
Mickey is good at living in a post-apocalyptic world.
Though, it's not really post-apocalyptic he guesses, it's kind of pre-apocalyptic or maybe just chaotic, but Mickey is good at living through chaos too. He feels like he's been preparing his whole life for the mostly abandoned and sometimes riot filled streets. He likes that he can just wander into any store and take what he needs, filling up brown paper bags with food and alcohol. He still has some of the coke he used to sell except now he mostly trades it for massive quantities of weed instead of money.
He goes out drinking at a nearby bar often trading a few joints for a bottle of whiskey and always seems to get a quick fuck in the alley afterwards. It doesn't surprise him that the only functioning businesses are based on drugs and alcohol.
He has a few extra locks on his door and window just in case any of the riots happen to reach the third floor, and even manages to get a storage space to lock up his truck. Mickey is thriving and feeling good, everything is fucking great - he just has to pretend the world isn't ending in a few weeks. Mickey doesn't think too much about the asteroid, tries not to think about Mandy and his brothers, focuses on his little victories and keeps to himself.
He's in control of his own little world - everything except the tall, gorgeous redhead with green eyes that seems to be the only other person in his building not to run off. Mickey sees him too often, smoking and drinking on the steps of the building, smiling to widely at Mickey with green eyes that always seem to sparkle too damn much.
The man never says anything, just grins and waves, which Mickey has never been so thankful for. He's not sure what he would do if the redhead stopped him and asked if he wanted a smoke. He's not sure he would be able to just scowl and walk past, even knowing that would ruin the perfect solitary life he's built out of this chaos.
So they continue their wordless encounters and Mickey never intends to change it.
-
Ian thinks the riots are human nature.
If there's one thing the Southside taught Ian over the years it's that people are selfish and angry, always looking to get themselves further ahead and when they can't do that they take it out on whoever or whatever is around. He figures most of the angry mobs and riots are probably people like himself; pissed off they can't see their families or maybe just pissed off they're going to die.
They can't get farther ahead, so they're taking everyone else down with them. Misery loves company and all that shit.
Considering his opinions on human nature, it doesn't surprise him when the screaming and violence starts to get worse, or when it forces him to move his usual smoking and drinking spot to the fire escape just outside his window. He watches the mob from the street begin pouring into the alley and sighs loudly. He smokes the last of his cigarette and resigns himself to going back inside his apartment. He's startled when he hears footsteps on the fire escape and prepares himself for a fight.
Ian throws a fist before even seeing the persons face, only to feel a solid fist against his own face and knocking him to the ground a moment later.
"Aye Firecrotch, watch where your fuckin' throwing that."
"Fuck," Ian moans and looks up to see Mickey standing over him. He's dropped the brown paper bag he usually carries and is holding his hands up in fists. Ian wants to kick himself, because of course his first real meeting with Mickey would be because he punched him in the face. "Sorry," Ian mutters and stands. He raises one of his hands and uses the other to stop the blood running from his nose. "Thought you were from the riot, it's getting bad down there."
Mickey snorts and lowers his fists, "it's a riot dumbass, when are they ever good?"
Ian wonders if he could have possibly kicked off meeting Mickey worse. A gun goes off, loud and ringing through the air, the bullet narrowly missing both men and hitting the brick wall. Mickey growls and looks up at Ian, seeming to contemplate something quickly before grabbing Ian's arm dragging him up the fire escape. Mickey pauses two floors up and unlocks the window there, he slips in and Ian follows after without a second thought.
It takes a moment for Ian to absorb the fact that Mickey has just brought him back to his apartment. Ian glances around, it looks a lot like his own apartment; mostly bare, some DVD's and CD's scattered throughout a bookshelf with papers and only a few actual books. The television is small and the couch seems a little worn but it looks comfortable enough. Ian walks over to the couch and sits down, looking up to see Mickey's eyes tracking his every move.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Mickey questions, clearly meaning his voice to come across harsher than it does.
Ian shrugs, "I've still got a bottle of whiskey if you want to get drunk, got some decent weed too." He holds up the mostly full bottle and a baggy full of joints he had rolled earlier. He watches as Mickey bites his lip and scans his eyes over Ian, Ian hopes this means Mickey is seconds away from saying yes. "I'm Ian," he introduces himself and holds out a hand.
Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian's hand away, "Mickey. And if you're gonna stay you've got to clean yourself up." He points at Ian's face where Ian feels the blood from his nose drying, "you're a fuckin' mess, man."
Ian laughs, as Mickey sits down beside him.
-
Mickey quickly finds out that Ian is a bit of a lightweight.
He figured that after seeing Ian drinking a bottle by himself nearly everyday that he would at least have some type of stamina but it seems that after splitting half a bottle and two joints Ian is fucked right up. Mickey laughs while watching Ian's bloodshot and watery eyes, listening to his words becoming increasingly slurred and messy. Ian's sprawled out on the couch, limbs dangling off every edge and forcing Mickey to sit on the floor beside him. Mickey might not be at Ian's level of drunk but he's feeling pretty good, so when Ian rambles on he just sits there and listens, laughing at the stupid shit that keeps tumbling out of his mouth.
"Yooou," Ian says slowly, "I know you."
Mickey rolls his eyes, "yeah, Genius, we just met two hours ago - I didn't forget it."
Ian shakes his head and giggles - actually fucking giggles, which Mickey thinks is hilarious for a grown man to do. "Nope, we went to school together."
Mickey raises his eyebrows and smirks, he can't imagine that he would have ever forgotten someone built as beautifully as Ian. He snorts and shakes his head, "not unless you're from fuckin' Canaryville, Chicago."
Ian grins widely and Mickey is reminded of how bright and gorgeous his stupid smile is.
"Born and raised."
Ian rolls and sits up before sliding down onto the floor to sit next to Mickey. Mickey shifts a little, he normally doesn't let people this close unless they're fucking, but Ian's so close he can feel the heat radiating from him. "You're a Milkovich," Ian says lifting his own hand and touching his knuckles. Mickey looks down at his inked fingers and back to Ian, he starts to feel the dread settling in before Ian starts waving his hands quickly, clearly aware of the shifting mood. Ian points at himself, "Gallagher, Frank's kid."
Suddenly Mickey is laughing, because he actually does remember Ian.
He remembers the little redheaded boy in little league, quiet and always standing near the back. He was too damn skinny and his limbs were longer than seemed right for his height. Mostly he remembers seeing Ian's same big grin when Mickey was looking around the field cockily after peeing on first base as an act of defiance against their coach's blatant favoritism.
"Yeah, from little league," Mickey finally says, still smiling from laughing. "No shit, figures I'd run into a Gallagher eventually, too many of you fuckers."
Ian laughs and nods, but his grin is smaller and Mickey tries not to notice when it falters slightly or the sadness in the Ian's eyes at the mention of his family. Mickey looks away quickly, hating that he actually fucking noticed that and tries to resist the dumb urge to comfort Ian. He swallows and clenches his hands, biting his lip and trying to remember how much he likes being alone - his own perfect solitary world, no stupid redhead's from Canaryville allowed.
Ian yawns and looks over at Mickey, he smiles lazily, clearly too out of it to realize what he's saying anymore. "You were stupid cute in that uniform."
Mickey should have knocked Ian out for saying something like that, he would have done it to anyone else, but instead he just laughs. He wonders if the impending end of the world is starting to make him soft.
"No wonder you sucked, too busy staring at my ass." Mickey says, Ian just grins and nods.
-
Ian knocks on Mickey's window for the fourth night in a row.
He shuffles a little as he waits for some sort of response from inside. It can take Mickey awhile sometimes but Ian doesn't have anywhere else to be, so he just leans against the wall and waits. It's one of the rare times that the streets are empty and silent. He finds it strange and disconcerting when everything's quiet - he prefers the riots.
"Don't you ever get cold sitting on your ass out here?" Mickey is on the level below Ian, walking up the rickety steps of the fire escape and rolling his eyes as Ian grins at him.
"It's summer," Ian answers and stands as Mickey reaches the last step. "No one would get cold out here."
Mickey shoves the large brown paper bag he's carrying into Ian's arms and unlocks his window. He slides inside and grabs the bag back from Ian. Ian stays silent and shuffles his feet outside for a couple of seconds before he hears Mickey yelling, "either close the window or get the fuck in here, Gallagher."
Ian grins and slips in through the window. Sometimes he wonders how Mickey feels about him. It seems like Mickey likes spending time with him because he's never thrown Ian out, but Ian always feels like Mickey is trying to keep himself distant. Ian thinks that maybe he's pushing Mickey too far, but he can't help it, Mickey is so intoxicating that Ian doesn't think he could stop if he wanted to.
"Got some beer," Ian calls out to Mickey, who is emptying food into his fridge.
"You expect me to go back to beer after bringing me whiskey the past three nights? You're getting cheap."
Ian laughs and walks over to sit on the couch, placing two eight packs on the table and pulling himself off a beer, "and you're getting greedy." Mickey grins in response, he doesn't smile very often but when he does Ian has to take a moment to admire it. Ian leans back sipping on his beer and feels a sudden surge of bravery, "you should smile more often."
Mickey raises his eyebrows and bites his lower lip, "fuck off."
"I'm serious," Ian sits up straighter after Mickey's less than vicious response instills more confidence, "you look good when you smile."
Mickey sits down and punches Ian's arm, "shut the fuck up and put a movie in." Ian laughs and rubs his arm as Mickey pulls out a joint, lighting it and taking a drag. "And pass me a beer."
Ian puts on some action movie and sits back on the couch. Mickey passes him the joint and Ian shuffles a little closer to him until their arms are brushing. Ian chances glance at Mickey and sees Mickey looking at him, biting his lower lip as he runs his eyes over Ian's body. Ian almost shudders when Mickey reaches forward and plucks the joint from Ian's fingers. Mickey turns back to the screen and takes a long drag. Ian watches his pink, slightly chapped lips wrapped around the paper and thinks about how perfect it would be to kiss him. Ian looks back at the screen, taking another sip of his beer and smiling.
Mickey doesn't move away, and Ian thinks that probably means something.
-
Mickey is ridiculously tired.
He hasn't slept well in the past week, tossing and turning and thinking way too damn much for his own good. He guesses that the world ending soon is probably giving plenty of people restless nights. He thinks he could really fall asleep right now though, he smoked a lot of pot and drank ten of the sixteen beers Ian brought over. The only problem is that he is sitting on his couch and Ian is resting against his shoulder completely passed out.
He shouldn't care, he should be more the ready to shove Ian off and tell him to fuck off to his own apartment, but Mickey can't do that. Ian told Mickey that he wasn't sleeping and Mickey has seen the evidence in the dark bags under his eyes growing darker since they started spending time together. Mickey tries to shift under Ian's weight a little, looking around for a pillow or anything that could replace Mickey's shoulder without waking Ian up.
There's nothing but Ian seems to half-wake up anyways.
"I fell asleep," Ian mumbles into Mickey's shoulder, "sorry."
Mickey looks down at Ian, sees Ian's eyes are still closed and frowns, barely resisting the urge to brush his fingers through Ian's hair. "S'okay, you still tired?"
Ian nods slowly and yawns. Mickey runs a thumb over his lower lip and glances to the window. He listens as Ian's breathing steady's once again and hears his soft snores. Mickey looks back at Ian and sighs, he leans his head to the side, resting his cheek on the top of Ian's head, and closes his eyes.
Ian's breathing is like a lullaby and Mickey has his first good sleep since the announcement.
-
Ian can't think of a better feeling.
He and Mickey are wrapped up together on Mickey's couch, still wearing their clothes from the night before but they always are. Ian's arms are around Mickey's shoulder, one hand between his shoulder blades and the other in his hair. Mickey's arms are wrapped tightly around Ian's waist - even in his sleep Mickey's grip never loosens.
It started the week before, the sleeping cuddled up together. They fell asleep on the couch and woke up resting against each other after a full night of rest. Waking up next to Mickey for the first time had changed everything for Ian and the next night he managed to fall asleep with his head in Mickey's lap. He had woken up with Mickey leaned over with his head on Ian's back. From there it continued on - a silent agreement that they would be falling asleep together every night, if only for the convenience of a full nights rest.
Ian knew it wasn't anything more because in the morning Mickey will roll over, push away from Ian and act like nothing happened between them throughout the night. Ian doesn't mind though, as long as he can have his nights holding Mickey in his arms, he at least gets to have a piece of him.
Ian keeps his eyes closed as he feels Mickey beginning to shift awake, praying that he'll get just a few more seconds before Mickey stumbles away to his bedroom. Mickey nuzzles closer and loosens his hold a little, moving one hand to grip Ian's hip and rub his thumb across the exposed skin there. Ian hums quietly at the small movement and feels Mickey smile against his cheek. "Knew you were awake," Mickey mutters but doesn't move away or stop rubbing at Ian's hipbone.
Ian lets out a small sigh, "yeah." He tightens his grip on on Mickey and breathes in his scent, "don't want to get up, too comfy."
Mickey laughs and before Ian knows what's happening Mickey has rolled over on top of Ian, straddling him and pinning his hands down. Ian's eyes fly open and he's greeted by the sight of Mickey perched on top of him, grinning and biting his lip. He's looking down at Ian appreciatively and Ian's almost certain he can feel a bulge in Mickey's jeans. Ian has to suppress a groan at the thought and breathes in nervously. Mickey smirks when he sees how suddenly nervous Ian is and jumps up from the couch.
"Time to get up, Gallagher," he calls out and wanders into his bedroom.
Ian throws his head back and doesn't hesitate to let out a quiet groan this time.
-
Mickey knows it's summer but he still feels cold.
There's a light breeze rushing through the air and the fire escape doesn't do much for insulation. Ian's sitting on his left side and Mickey can feel the heat radiating off of him, it makes Mickey want to lean over and bury himself in Ian. Instead he reaches over and takes the beer out of Ian's hand, drinking it and bouncing his legs trying to get some heat.
He has no idea how Ian is sitting around completely unaffected, the kids like a natural fucking furnace and it makes no sense.
"Do you miss your family?" Ian asks quietly, interrupting the comfortable silence Mickey had been enjoying.
Mickey snorts and shakes his head, "fuck no, man."
Ian looks down at his hands and shuffles a little closer to Mickey. Mickey acts like it doesn't effect him but suddenly the heat from Ian is close, and their arms are brushing, and fuck, his heart begins to flutter like he's a goddamn teenager. He drinks more beer before passing the can back to Ian a little more forcefully than usual.
"I thought about going back to Chicago to see mine," Ian's looking at Mickey, his eyes are wide and honest, with the sadness that Mickey has only seen glances of. "I haven't even seen them in over a year, wouldn't even know if they stayed put after all this shit," he smiles sadly and looks down, "though I can't imagine them being anywhere other than home."
Home. Because, unlike Mickey, Ian still has a home and it isn't this shitty apartment building in Brooklyn.
Mickey swallows and bites his lip nervously. He hates that Ian decides to tell him about his feelings because Mickey has been avoiding discussing feelings since before he could speak, but he hates that Ian's sad even more. There's a knot in his throat when he tries to speak and Mickey feels the twinging in his heart. Mickey breathes in and shuffles the smallest amount closer to Ian, he wraps an arm around Ian's shoulder and pulls Ian to rest his head against Mickey's chest. Ian quickly moves in against Mickey, he drapes his arm over Mickey's leg and buries his face into Mickey's neck.
Mickey doesn't know what to say so he stays silent for a long time, enjoying the heat from Ian and the comfortable silence falling over them once again. Mickey shivers, runs a hand through Ian's soft hair, and puts his nose against the top of Ian's head breathing in. He nudges Ian and whispers, "C'mon." He releases Ian from his arms and grabs Ian's wrist, "let's go to bed."
Mickey pulls Ian into his room and onto his bed for the first time, they wrap their limbs around the other without a word, just naturally falling together like perfect fitting puzzle pieces. Mickey watches as Ian drifts off to sleep, his lips part slightly and his eyelids flutter. Ian's completely vulnerable, so trusting and so stunning. Mickey's never seen someone like this before Ian, no one has ever wanted to be like this around Mickey.
Mickey finds his desire to be alone shattering with every breath Ian takes.