Seven years after 5x12(they didn't break up)

"This is it?" Mickey whispered, almost breathless. "You're really breaking up with me?"

Mickey jumped awake from the continuous nightmare that's been recurring for almost a whole decade. He grasped at the space next to him where Ian should be laying down.

He was.

Mickey didn't want to be reminded of that awful end of an even more awful summer. He breathed, quietly. He glanced to his left, Ian was there, sound asleep. Mickey studied him. He studied the fall of his chest, up and down. He glanced at his flaming red hair, too red, sometimes. He surveyed his freckles, the small brown dots that littered Ian's pale, pale skin.

Mickey would be lost, if he lost Ian.

Mickey slipped his pale hand up Ian's arm towards his face. He ran his finger across Ian's lips, flickering slightly at the Cupid's bow. He ran his finger down his nose and over his left cheek.

He grinned.

His fiancé remained gorgeous even after seven years, not like that's much of a time difference, but Ian showed signs of ageing. Laugh lines were prominent on the sides of his mouth. Wrinkles existed on the corners of his eye. He was still so beautiful to Mickey. No matter how old Ian aged, he would always remain handsome.

Mickey sighed.

"I love you," Mickey whispered into Ian's ear. "Please know that."

He continued, "I know sometimes I can be a pain in the ass. I know I can be stubborn. It may seem like I don't care when we fight and break up for one day." He chuckled.

"But, trust me, babe, I fucking care. I care so much about you. It ain't fucking funny."

"I never blamed you for what happened that terrible morning. It was so dreadful. I've always hated myself for hitting you that afternoon. I don't know why I did it. Maybe, cause I was trying to chase you away. It worked. God, it fucking worked. That broke my damn heart, Ian. I missed you so much. Every redhead reminded me of you. Every single one. I couldn't look at the army toy I had on my shelf. I burned the fucker. I barely could look at anything green. Shit, I missed you. Never leave again, Ian. You can't, baby. You can't." Mickey took a breath, one single tear traveling down his right cheek. He wiped at it. He then traveled his freckled hand down the side of Ian's back. Ian shifted. Mickey drew his hand back quickly.

"I love you so much, babe."

Ian groaned.

Mickey went to turn and face the door of their bedroom, when Ian decided to roll over on top of Mickey. Mickey jumped in surprise.

"Jesus!" Mickey yelled. "How long have you been awake, fucker?"

The redhead grinned above him. He grasped Mickey's left leg in his hand and swung it over the side of his back. Mickey smiled, a real smile.

"I-Ian?" Mickey stuttered in astonishment. Mickey lifted up his right leg to join his other on Ian's backside. He made sure to tap his butt with his toe.

"Oh, I don't know," Ian pondered. "Let's see." Ian dropped his head to the curve of Mickey's neck and pampered sweet kisses there. "Since you whispered I love you. Maybe a bit before."

Mickey swiped away the long, strand of hair that was hanging down Ian's face. He leaned up and laid a chaste kiss upon Ian's rosy lips. He always loved kissing Ian.

Ian glanced at the clock. It read 5:57 in the morning.

"Why the hell are you up this early?" Ian wondered. He laid another kiss upon Mickey's lip and swiped his tongue for entrance. Mickey granted it. It was a short and sweet, open mouthed kiss shared between them.

"I was hungry." Mickey grunted. He dropped his legs from Ian's backside. "Plus, Yevgeny needs up soon for school."

"Wow, Mikhalio Milkovich, a family man. Who would've thought?" Ian did his infamous smirk and kissed his pale fiancé one more time, before he lifted himself up off the bed.

"Looks like breakfast time!" Ian declared leaving the bedroom, after pulling on a pair of sweats.

Mickey frowned at the ceiling, but then smirked.

After getting dressed, Mickey joined Ian in the kitchen. Ian stood by the stove mixing the pot of gravy. Mickey decided to open up the fridge and pulled out the biscuits.

"You wake the kid, I prepare the breakfast." Ian commanded taking the biscuits from Mickey's hand, and stealing a kiss, too.

"Ok, boss."

Mickey opened his eight year old child's bedroom door. Yevgeny sprawled out from one side of the bed to the other, sideways. He even had a little snore he got from his father. His blonde hair peeking over the side of the bed. Yevgeny was wearing his favorite Lightening McQueen pajamas. He was obsessed with the Disney Movie and begged his daddy for a pajama set. He won.

Mickey walked over to his son. He raised his hand and shook Yevgeny. Yevgeny gave a soft moan about being disturbed, but opened his small, ice blue eyes.

"What, dad?" He questioned, straightening himself and pulling the covers over his face.

Mickey chuckled, wholeheartedly. He knew the feeling of being disturbed in the mornings.

"Come on, squirt. Daddy's making breakfast. Then school." Mickey exclaimed, tickling his son's foot.

Yevgeny let out a short shriek and bellowed, "Alright, alright. I'm up, dad. I am awake."

"Really? Cause it doesn't seem like it." Mickey shouted, grabbed his son and boosting him over his shoulder. Yevgeny exclaimed another short shriek.

Mickey marched into the kitchen with a screaming Yevgeny over his shoulder. His son beat onto his back, but his father didn't let up.

"Daddy? Daddy? Help!" The eight year old screamed. "Dad's got me."

Ian bellowed out a loud laugh and pulled out the golden biscuits from the stove. He strolled over to his adopted son and said, "Looks like it, buddy."

Mickey set his son on the kitchen table chair and headed towards his seat while Ian prepared Yevgeny's plate.

Ian handed the plate to Mickey, which then he placed it in front of Yevgeny. Yevgeny ate quickly. Ian and Mickey joined in. Plates full with biscuits and gravy.

Silence arose over them, but they all loved it.

A honk echoed out from outside of the Milkovich house. Yevgeny jumped up and grabbed his book bag and ran towards the door.

"Wait a minute, kid." Mickey scolded, no heat evident in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Yevgeny landed a small kiss upon his dad's cheek and hugged him tight.

"I love you, kid." Mickey whispered.

"I love you too, dad."

Ian grinned at the scene, holding his coffee cup and drinking from it every so often. Mickey winked at Ian from behind Yevgeny's head. He loved his two boys.

Yevgeny departed from his dad and went to his other dad, his daddy. Since Yevgeny was four, he'd been calling Ian his daddy and Mickey his dad. It seemed more fitting to all three of them. They are settled well into the family situation.

Yevgeny grabbed Ian into a snug hug and departed with a smile and a simple, "I love you."

Ian beamed.

"I love you, too, squirt."

Yevgeny jogged to the door and left with a cheerful smile.

"You're a great father, Mickey." Ian believed, walking towards his fiancé. He swiped his fingers across Mickey's cheek.

Mickey rolled his eyes and whispered, "Yeah, yeah I am. I'm getting pretty fucking well at it."

Mickey leaned up and kissed Ian on the lips. He wrapped his arms around his partner's back and whispered, "Bedroom?"

Thank you for reading!

Don't own characters, just playing with them.