Our Fate is Red

Summary: Everyone in the world is tied to their soulmate by the "Red String of Fate" tied around their little finger. Ian and Mickey had been connected in that way since birth, but before they could meet, Mickey was so scared of being gay that he dug deep into his skin and severed the string. The string doesn't connect them anymore, but fate still has a way of bringing people together. Soulmate!AU

Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.

This is it. The final chapter. I'm so sorry it took me so long to write. I really hope you enjoyed this series. Please tell me what you think! I really loved writing it. I'm usually a one-shot type of person, but maybe I'll write more chapter fics in the future.

Also, in case anyone has complaints or is wondering about the pinky promise thing, it's a big part of the red string legend. I was just trying to stay true to that.

Chapter 13 – Soulmates

As soon as Mickey found himself standing in front of the Gallagher house, he knew that he hadn't wandered there by coincidence. It was like his legs had been on autopilot, and when he looked up, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Mickey wished that he could've been more surprised, but he really wasn't. It was just more proof of what he should've known all along: even without his string, the pull never stopped tugging him in his soulmate's direction. He could feel it in the air, pushing through every cell of his body and drawing him closer with each step.

He and Ian were inevitably fate connected. He had accepted that.

But just because he'd accepted it didn't mean it was okay. Yeah, Ian was his soulmate, but so fucking what? His father was finally gone and never coming back, but that didn't erase an entire lifetime of being afraid. There was no way that he was just gonna run into Ian's arms like a lovesick girl, shouting his fucking feelings to the world. Mickey knew better than anyone that life wasn't a fucking fairytale like that.

He lit a cigarette and sighed, exhaling smoke into the wind. He stared at the door in front of him and thought of turning back. Perhaps it would be easier if he just waited until school the next day to talk to Ian. The redhead always had a way of clouding his judgment and turning his mind hazy. Between all the shit that had been happening lately, he'd been struggling to hold onto his last bit of sanity anyway.

However, just as he made up his mind to leave, the door flung open and he came face to face with Ian Gallagher, forcing all his attempts of rational thought to a screeching halt.

Ian stared back at him, eyes wide and mouth hung open in surprise. Mickey grimaced, embarrassed that he'd been seen. Of all the moments that Ian could've chosen to look for him, of course it had to have been the exact fucking time he was standing on his doorstep.

After all, it was fate.

"What are you doing here?" Ian asked, unable to suppress the small, knowing grin that spread across his face.

Mickey shrugged and looked away, cursing his body's betraying reaction to Ian's presence. "Came to see you," he murmured.

Ian smiled even wider, glad that Mickey didn't seem to be pushing him away anymore for the moment. "It's been forever."

"Sorry," Mickey muttered. "Some shit happened."

"Yeah…" Ian replied awkwardly. "Mandy told me."

Mickey scowled and brought his cigarette back up to his lips. "Figures," came his muffled reply.

"Don't think she told me the whole truth though," Ian admitted.

"Probably not," Mickey snorted simply. It didn't look like he was in the mood to talk about it either. The inescapable tension in the air was putting him on edge, and the nicotine pulsing through his veins was doing nothing to calm his nerves.

He hoped that Ian would just take the hint and leave it at that, but of course, the stupid redhead had to push for more information. "So… everything's okay though, right?" he asked.

"Yep," Mickey grunted. "Just fuckin' perfect."

"Really?" Ian continued hesitantly. "Cause the last time we spoke wasn't exactly-"

"Don't worry about it," Mickey interrupted.

"So… you're not mad?" Ian persisted.

"No, but I fuckin' will be if you keep asking me dumb questions!" Mickey shouted.

"Well, you obviously are mad or you wouldn't be yelling at me!" Ian barked back.

Mickey growled in frustration. He hadn't meant to start an argument, honestly. He just hated that Ian wouldn't stop pushing him for answers. "Don't…" he grumbled warningly.

"Why not, Mick? Just say it!" Ian yelled, stepping closer until he was right up in Mickey's face.

Mickey looked up at him, eyes pleading. "Not everybody gets to just…" He paused and bit his lip, barely able to finish his sentence. "Not everybody gets to just blurt out how they fuckin' feel every minute."

They both fell silent, staring at each other intensely. Ian's mouth snapped closed and suddenly he felt a bit guilty. That must have been really hard for Mickey to say. He stared at the older boy pleadingly, yearning to know more.

It wasn't until Mickey's eyes finally flickered away that the moment was broken.

Ian sighed, not daring to pursue the topic any further. "You wanna come inside?" he muttered in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Just… to hang out like usual?"

Mickey shrugged. "Sure," he replied. He followed Ian back up the stairs and into the house.

Carl and Debbie were still sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up their lunch. They stared at Mickey curiously when he trailed in behind their brother.

"You sure came back quick," Debbie commented.

"Ran into a friend," Ian explained dismissively. "We're gonna go hang out upstairs for a while, okay? Don't bother us."

"Whatever," Carl replied. "I was just gonna leave anyway. Gotta find Frank."

"Can I come?" Debbie asked, perking up.

"Sure, whatever," Carl responded without interest.

Ian and Mickey left them downstairs, bounding up the steps two at a time. When they finally reached the boys room, Ian slammed the door behind them eagerly. Without hesitating a single second, he pinned Mickey up against it and kissed him hard.

Mickey relaxed and just let Ian do whatever he wanted. He wasn't so good at talking, but this he could do. Physical intimacy had always been his weakness, a guilty pleasure. He liked the danger and the thrill of it. But in that moment, as Ian spun him around and led him backwards toward the bed, it felt different, like he was where he belonged.

It was their first time together since figuring out they were soulmates, and a revelation like that wasn't something a person could ignore. More than ever, Mickey was hyperaware of the unexplainable warmth and strange electricity that passed through them with every touch and kiss.

Ian's lips were insistent and comforting against his. They only parted for a moment, allowing Ian to tug Mickey's shirt over his head and pull off his own. They fumbled to strip each layer off clothing off of one another, and Mickey hurriedly fell backwards onto the bed in order to shove his own pants down.

It had been too fucking long since Ian had been inside of him, and he was growing desperate.

As soon as they were both sufficiently naked, Ian leaned down to attack Mickey's neck with bites and kisses, massaging his hands over every inch of skin he could find.

Mickey leaned back and groaned, arching up to grind his hips against Ian's maddeningly. The warmth of their cocks pressed up against each other sent a shiver of pleasure through both of them.

Unable to wait any longer, Mickey swiped a condom and some lube off of Ian's bedside table. He didn't want to think about the emotions that Ian made him feel. All he wanted was the pleasure.

"Put this on," he demanded, tossing Ian the condom.

Ian pumped his shaft a few times, making sure that his erection was at full length, before tearing open the wrapper and putting on the condom carefully. While he was busy, Mickey set to work on himself, pushing lube-covered fingers into his own opening and scissoring them to make sure that he was properly stretched.

Ian watched him, transfixed. "Need help?" he asked with a seductive smirk.

Mickey nodded with a grin of his own. He squirmed and watched with gleaming, lust-filled eyes as Ian squirted lube onto one of his own fingers. Once Ian finally pushed that slick finger into him, right along with the other three Mickey had stuffed inside already, the brunette's breath hitched and he bit his lip to stifle a noise of appreciation.

Ian pressed his fingers in and out of Mickey's hole carefully, keeping on like that until he was sure that Mickey was sufficiently prepared. He wanted Mickey to feel nothing but ecstasy when he fucked him.

"You ready to take my cock?" he murmured in a low, husky voice.

"Fuck yes," Mickey gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing. He spread his legs further apart, allowing for Ian to position himself in between them.

A moment later, he was rewarded with the feeling of Ian's dick pushing inside of him. Mickey could barely bite back a groan of satisfaction. He inhaled sharply, feeling all of his senses overloading.

The air surrounding them pulsed with life as their two bodies became one.

Ian didn't give Mickey much time to get used to it, burying his face in the crook of Mickey's neck and pounding inside of him hard, making him cry out with every thrust. He knew Mickey's body well enough to determine exactly how much force it could take, hitting all the right spots and doing all the right things to drive him crazy.

As much as Mickey hated to acknowledge it, he knew that no one else could make him feel so good in body or soul. When they were connected together like that, he couldn't pretend. He could only feel. Ian was more than just a fuck buddy to him. He always was. There was no way he could stifle the truth any longer.

Ian felt overwhelmed as well, but that only made him more determined to claim Mickey with everything he had. He grabbed the smaller boy tightly and jackhammered into his body without mercy.

Mickey raked his fingers down the skin of Ian's back, coming to rest on the swell of his ass. He grabbed it and felt it flex with each hard, deep movement downward into him. Ian's ROTC training was really starting to pay off. Just the feeling of the redhead's strong muscles overpowering him and trapping him against the mattress made Mickey's aching cock twitch with life against his stomach.

He fucking loved it when Ian was so rough with him.

Unfortunately, Ian had other plans in mind. He sat up to get a better view of Mickey's face, stilling his hips and taking a moment to appreciate the man below him. Mickey looked up at him in confusion, but Ian only smiled in admiration and panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

Mickey hissed impatiently, purposefully ruining the romantic atmosphere. "Come on," he growled, trying to move his hips down onto Ian's dick. "Faster!"

"No," Ian responded, sounding less playful than he'd intended. "I want you to feel it."

He began to rock his hips down into Mickey with forceful, weighty thrusts, setting a pace that was unbearably slow. Every movement was meaningful and pervasive, deliberate and loving. As much as Mickey complained that he wanted it faster, Ian never complied. Instead, to ease Mickey's discomfort, he wrapped a gentle hand around the ill-tempered boy's cock and stroked it lazily.

A strangled moan caught in Mickey's throat, and all he could do was lay there and take it. Ian's hips snapped deeper into him, burying to the hilt, and then pulled back out again sluggishly.

Mickey lost all sense of time as he slowly felt his orgasm build within him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his toes curled. Even his movements became more erratic.

This was it. He was almost there.

His eyes became foggy, practically watering from how good it felt. He'd never been so close to cumming without toppling hurriedly and sloppily over the edge. Instead, Ian guided him through every overwhelming feeling. At such a leisurely pace, he couldn't help being aware of every little movement of Ian's body and every spark of pleasure in his own. Every emotion within himself became impossible to ignore.

Sensing that Mickey was nearing the end, Ian slammed into him passionately one final time, grazing against the one spot that infallibly doomed him to blissful oblivion.

Mickey didn't stand a chance. He came hard, clenching around Ian. The man on top of him tugged furiously at his leaking dick, milking every last drop out onto his belly. The sights and the sounds were finally too much for Ian to handle, and he followed suit. His whole body shuddered and emptied into the exhausted man below him.

They both gasped desperately for a few final, frenzied moments before sagging down onto the bed.

Mickey vaguely registered Ian getting up to throw away the condom, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. A few moments later, Ian collapsed back onto the bed next to him, cuddling close.

Mickey could feel Ian's sweaty chest against his side, but he didn't say anything. They were both too caught up in their blissful daze, content with everything in that moment.

Ian reached out for Mickey's hand lazily, almost by instinct, like it was the most natural thing in the world for their hands to be connected. Mickey accepted it unthinkingly at first, allowing Ian to lace their fingers together. As the clock ticked, their panting and exhaustion faded away. Everything felt perfect.

But in Mickey's mind, that kind of happiness couldn't exist without a price.

His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he shuffled out of bed, quickly pulling on his boxers and gathering up the rest of his clothing.

"Where are you going?" Ian asked nervously. Something was wrong.

"Home," Mickey grunted.

"Don't go," Ian insisted with a small hint of hope in his voice, reaching out for the other boy's hand again.

Mickey pulled away from his grasp. "Told you before. M'not gonna be your soulmate or boyfriend or whatever," he grumbled. "I came here to get off. Only punks like you care about all that other feelings shit."

"Punks like me?" Ian stared at him incredulously. He couldn't believe how quickly they'd gone right back to where they started. "I get it; you don't wanna 'blurt out your feelings.' Fine. But… don't do this."

Mickey sighed, pausing midway between shoving his pants back on. "You think I got a choice?"

"Yeah," Ian replied stubbornly, "and you're forcing yourself to make the wrong one."

Mickey didn't reply. He looked away and went back to fumbling with his pants. Someone like Ian just couldn't understand.

Ian exhaled deeply, getting ready for Mickey's explosive reaction sure to come. "Is that why you cut our string when we were kids?" he asked tauntingly. "You didn't have a choice?"

That was it. He'd said it. They were true soulmates, and now both of them knew it.

But Mickey didn't seem shocked or angry about the news like Ian had expected. Instead, he just stood there looking guilty and far too much like he'd known the information already.

After a long, stagnant moment, Mickey finally spoke up. "It was nothing personal," he mumbled.

Ian was shocked. "You knew?" he shouted.

"Not my fault you keep the door open during girly gab hour at my own fucking house," Mickey barked back defensively.

Ian relaxed when he realized that meant Mickey had only known about it for a few days. "Oh… so does that mean you're-?"

"It doesn't change anything," Mickey interrupted him quickly.

"Of course it does," Ian scoffed. "Even without our strings showing us the way, you still ended up with me. That means something."

"Fuck you! You think I wanna be a fag?" Mickey shouted.

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that you are one," Ian argued. "And as much as you hate it… I think you wanna be with me."

"So what if I do?" Mickey yelled. "That doesn't mean I'm gonna shout it to the whole world."

"Who fucking asked you to?" Ian asked with a confused frown.

Mickey hesitated. "You're the one always going on about soulmates and shit. I thought…"

"If telling everyone you're gay makes you so scared, then fine," Ian said. "I won't make you do it until you're ready."

Mickey narrowed his eyes warily. "Then what do you want from me?" he demanded in frustration.

Ian stood up from the bed and drew closer to the other man standing in front of him. "I just… I just want you to stop running away. Just give in."

"Give in?" Mickey asked, tensing up more and more with each step Ian took.

"Yes," the younger boy confirmed. "Things between us won't be easy, but… I have a feeling they'll fall right into place. All I'm asking is just… let it. Do what comes natural. Do what you want. No more running away. Everything will be fine."

Mickey looked doubtful. "You seriously believe in all that shit?"

"Yeah," Ian said softly, his face inches from Mickey's. He didn't press their lips together just yet, waiting for an invitation.

Mickey's tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth nervously. Was it really so simple? Could he and Ian be happy together?

His father's voice had been inside of his head his entire life, keeping him away from the things he yearned for most. But lately, Ian's voice was there too, tormenting him sweetly with promises that everything would be alright.

Now that his father was gone, maybe it would be.

"Fine," Mickey muttered. "Won't shout it from the rooftops or anything, but… I'll try."

A wide, dopey grin spread across Ian's face. "Pinky promise," he insisted, holding his little finger up like a stubborn child.

Mickey rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. "Jesus Christ, you're a loser," he grumbled. Still, he hooked their pinkies around each other without further argument.

Ian beamed at him fondly and leaned in to lock their lips together. As they sucked in each other's air, their fingers stayed firmly looped in place, and neither one of them wanted to let go.

Until suddenly Mickey hissed and pulled back.

"What the fuck?" he griped. A burning sensation seared through the skin of his pinky, different from all the times he'd felt pain there before. This time, despite the initial sting, the feeling was comforting and warm, full of sweet, pulsing pain that was so worth it.

He recognized the feeling immediately.

Before both of their very eyes, the string extended itself from Ian's finger and snaked around Mickey's, digging into his skin and reattaching to its original place.

"Can you see that?" Ian asked in awe. Mickey could only nod in response as he once again laid eyes upon the string he'd been so terrified of all those years ago. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia and relief, never realizing before then just how much he'd missed it.

The string radiated light, and everything that they'd lost when they were younger came flooding back. Mickey's emotions were suddenly accessible to Ian again, like a fog had finally cleared, and the anxiety he sensed hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Hey," he murmured. "It's gonna be okay."

Mickey didn't argue. He could feel just how much Ian believed his own words. Instead, he wordlessly wrapped his hand around Ian's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. The way their lips drew together was nothing short of magnetic.

Neither one of them realized it yet, but they would get their fairytale happy ending eventually. After all, they were finally tied together again, back where they truly belonged. Just as fate had intended all along, their love burned red.