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If there’s one thing Mickey knows for sure, it was that he knew how to fuck something up. And he isn’t even thinking about the way the letters forever itched on his skin implies, but in the emotional, mental way that nobody thinks he’s capable of. It’s happened time and time again, one guy after the next, they’ll try and get close and he sometimes he even wants them to, until he freezes up and reverts to his old ways.
That’s why it’s such a surprise that Gallagher sticks around, even after all these years and all of Mickey’s fuck ups. Even after he spits words laced with venom at Ian multiple times because Ian is getting too close. He’s afraid of letting anyone get too close, his cement walls surrounding him like the shiny, metal armor of a knight, Ian wanted to break down those walls to get to Mickey’s core being like a knight wanted to slay the dragon to save his princess. Except, Mickey doesn’t need saving – or at least he fools himself into thinking that. All Mickey wants is to be left alone, where nobody can get close and try and save him or where he can pretend that his walls don’t fall because of Ian.
It’s bad enough Ian knows what haunts Mickey every day and night, what makes him look over his shoulder. Terry causes this deep panic in Mickey, even now when he’s six feet under and never coming back, his name still sets off this urge in Mickey. This intense need to just stand like a brick house – unmovable, tall, solid – just to earn his fathers fucked up respect and maybe even love.
Love. That was a foreign concept in the Milkovich household, and is still foreign to Mickey. Every time the word or phrase slips from Ian’s mouth he’s reminded how far apart they really are, even if they did grow up in the same shitty ass neighborhood. The words fall easily from Ian’s lips, time after time always taking Mickey by surprise but always fill him up with something like joy. That’s another thing he’s not use to, something he’s still adjusting on – the happiness he feels with Ian, like anything is possible even if he doesn’t always let Ian in.
Mickey doesn’t know why he’s thinking about all of this now, except he does. It’s been years and yet every day on this day like clockwork, he gets pensive like this. Terry’s death day makes him reflect, causes him to look back on each year with Ian and see their relationship in a new light. Any other day he’d call himself a faggot for having these thoughts but this is the one day he doesn’t, he lays here on his and Ian’s bed and think about how good Ian has been to him, think about how he’s still breaking down walls even after all these years. Mickey doesn’t know why Ian even stays around, it’s not like Mickey will gather the courage to ask, he doesn’t want Ian to see he’s better than some Southside Milkovich thug – doesn’t want Ian to know he could do better and probably should.