Synopsis

He's dying.

He didn't think about everything he failed to accomplish in life, but he more pitied himself for getting nowhere. He had thought of so many magnificent and amazingly bone-chilling ways to die, but instead he ended up with a knife in his gut bleeding out in an alleyway. But what made him hurt the most, as he felt his fingers coat themselves in his own blood, was a certain red-head that held a weird friendship with him.

Gallagher.

Ian fucking Gallagher.

Mickey knew at that exact moment while his vision blurred and started to fade, that Gallagher was more than a friend. He felt himself smile lopsidedly. Of course. Gallagher. It was him all along. He likes the kid, a lot. Of-fucking-course.

Ian Gallagher...