Chapter Text
Mickey turned 25 on a Saturday, in prison, just a few short months before -unbeknownst to either him or Ian at the time- they were released.
Ian, far from the first time, was eternally grateful that they were cellmates, because it meant he was able to be right there when it happened, and when Mickey woke up afterwards, and able to enjoy the sheer joy that came with finally, finally, knowing for sure that they were soulmates.
They’d both been anxious about it for weeks now. Ian had been fidgety all week, and had woken up to Mickey pacing their cell in the middle of the night more times than he could count over the month leading up to Mickey’s birthday.
The night before, the two of them spent hours huddled close on the bottom bunk of their cell, talking about nothing in particular, just trying to keep their minds off the impending universe-approved confirmation or denial of something they’d both been fairly certain of for well near a decade now.
Ian couldn’t sleep for his life. Mickey, more stressed than he was letting on, Ian could tell, had drifted to sleep about half an hour ago, face pressed in the curve between Ian’s neck and shoulder, and was breathing softly, each breath marking the seconds passing until Ian’s world either lit up or shattered to pieces. Realistically, Ian knew -they both knew- that even if they weren’t soulmates, nothing would change. They would still love each other, and if their history was anything to go by, they couldn’t get rid of each other even if they tried, especially here, in prison. If Mickey woke up and told Ian that he had a soulmate somewhere off in fucking Ohio named Andrew or some shit, Ian was fairly certain Mickey wouldn’t be running off anytime soon to go find him.
Still.
Still, if there was someone else out there for Mickey, then who the hell was Ian to want him to stay for him? Hadn’t he taken enough from Mickey? Hadn’t he cost him too much to ask him to abandon his soulmate too?
Ian had voiced these concerns, to which Mickey had quickly shut him down, telling him to stop worrying about shit that probably wouldn’t even matter after his birthday anyway. “Come on man, I’m pretty sure the universe couldn’t be louder. Stop stressing over this bullshit.”
Ian heard Mickey’s words on a loop in his mind, playing them over and over, in an attempt to convince himself that his boyfriend was right. Mickey was more certain than Ian they were soulmates.
Ian wanted nothing more than for him to be right, but his brain had other ideas, screaming at him, too loud for him to ignore, that no one could truly love him, and that no one deserved to deal all his issues for the rest of their life. If Mickey turned out not to be his soulmate, then god help the poor fool who was. They’d be in for quite the ride if Ian ever decided to meet them. Though he likely wouldn’t, if they weren’t Mickey. Because all he truly wanted, all he ever truly wanted, was Mickey Milkovich. And if Mickey turned out to be wrong, if they weren’t soulmates, Ian honestly wasn’t sure what he’d do or how he’d ever be able to accept that.
Mickey stirring slightly in his arms snapped Ian out of his spiralling thoughts. It must be almost midnight by now. He wondered if it already was, though he was quickly proven wrong when he felt Mickey’s breath hitch against his neck and his entire body tense in his arms.
Ian didn’t need to peer through the tiny window of their cell into the darkness of the common area where the clock sat across the catwalk to know it had begun; it was midnight and Mickey had begun his travel. Before Ian could process this, he was flooded with memories from what felt like a different lifetime, of blue eyes, a kind smile, and an intense feeling of comfort that got him through a couple of the darkest points in his young life.
*******
The science of soulmates is not a simple one.
For years, specialists have been trying to understand exactly what makes two people a universe-approved pair, why the Soulmate Phenomenon occurs, or how the time jump is even possible, but with no solid evidence and very little luck.
What they know for sure is that on one’s 25th birthday, at midnight, they will travel back in time to be with a younger version of their soulmate, at a point in time where their soulmate needed them most. This need varies, and is completely circumstantial to the couple.
When this occurs, the visited soulmate is suspended in time, in the sense that around them, time stops, and the only witnesses to the encounter are the two soulmates.
Most people only experience one point in time, though it is possible, however rare, for a traveller to end up at several different points in time during their jump. This most often occurs when one or both soulmates have experienced an extreme amount of trauma at a young age, and they needed their soulmate at multiple different points.
The most recorded jumps occurred in the 1940s, between two World War Two soldiers; seven for one and five for the other, both of whom had suffered intense amounts of trauma during the war and who were later diagnosed with what is now known as PTSD. Apparently, the universe had decided they’d needed each other at several different points in time.
Despite this, the median remains one, and it is very rare that a traveller will experience more than one point in time during their jump.
A traveller can visit their soulmate as young as 14 -this is the youngest recorded age- and up until whatever age the soulmate is at the time of the other’s 25th birthday. Scientists hypothesize that, despite trauma obviously being able to occur before the age of 14, the universe has some sort of moral safety lock so that 25-year-old adults are not interacting with young children who they would later be in a relationship of some sort with. Alternatively -and some think more likely- 14 is when the personality begins to be formed by, and becomes increasingly reactive to, trauma experienced before then, and so this is when jumps first start appearing. No one knows for sure, either way.
A traveller will experience the jump in real time, giving little indication of it occurring to those around them in the present time. It always occurs at midnight on their 25th birthday. If they were awake at the time of the clock striking 12, they will fall unconscious immediately after, until their jump is complete. This could take anywhere from a few minutes to several hours, but never longer than 24 hours.
The soulmate being visited in the past will not remember the visit until the other’s 25th birthday, when their soulmate experiences it in real-time. At this point, the memories that were previously forgotten upon the departure of the future version of their soulmate will be unlocked, and both parties will remember the visit, often with shocking detail and clarity, for the rest of their lives.
At the time of the visit, as well as immediately afterwards, the visited soulmate will only feel a renewed sense of comfort or reassurance, and experience the ability to push through whatever it is they are going through that drew their soulmate to that point in the past. Despite scientists studying this topic for as far back as records go, there has never been a definitive consensus on what exactly causes the Soulmate Phenomenon.
No one knows why it happens, or how, or how soulmates are ‘selected’ and matched together by the universe. Some convincing evidence has been discovered in recent years, suggesting a relation between confirmed soulmates and zodiac signs. Some research has pointed toward what science calls ‘pre-jump intuition’ in which soulmates just know they’re soulmates, before the jump, upon their first meeting. Some scientists have even suggested soulmates aren’t real at all, and the jump is simply a resetting, of sorts, of the soul, in preparation for a new phase of adulthood. This theory, as one may think, is highly unpopular.
Some soulmates will already know each other before the jump. Many meet as teenagers, or even before then. Though, some do meet for the first time during the jump, and when this is the case, will often seek each other out in present day, immediately after. Both scenarios are equally common.
Soulmates do not always work out, either. Sometimes, people will be in love with someone other than their soulmate. Sometimes, extenuating circumstances or differences of opinion will prevent people from seeking relationships with their soulmates. Despite this, the global average age of marriage remains 25.8, in direct correlation to one discovering their soulmate, and marrying them within a year.
All this being said, the Soulmate Phenomenon still remains a relative mystery.
*******
When Mickey opened his eyes, he was standing in the doorway of an all-too-familiar room in the Gallagher house. Immediately, he was filled with an intense wave of relief. It was Ian. His soulmate was Ian, and everything that they’d both been so worried about the past few weeks was going to be okay.
The second thing he noticed was that the universe had seemingly replaced his prison uniform with jeans and a green t-shirt. Thanks, he supposed. Explaining why he was wearing prison garb to a younger Ian who may not know he was in prison, depending on when in time this was, was not on the top of Mickey’s to-do list.
A few feet away, on the tiny twin mattress by the window, lay the boy in question, facing the wall, shaking slightly, with what Mickey could only assume were full-body sobs.
From where Mickey stood, he could see the shadow of a bruise on the side of Ian’s face, and the dampness of tears across his visible cheek. His hair was shorter than it was in Mickey’s present, like it was when they were kids, before Ian’s diagnosis.
Fuck.
Mickey wasn’t sure when, exactly, he was in time, but he was willing to bet he was the cause of his soulmate’s tears, because he couldn’t imagine a different reason Ian would be cooped up in his room crying like this, if it weren’t for something horrible Mickey had said to the boy.
“Hey,” Mickey breathed out, slowly approaching the bed, until he was able to lean down and rest a gentle hand on Ian’s shoulder.
He felt the younger boy freeze and tense up under his hand, before slowly lifting his head and turning around to face Mickey. Mickey noticed that Ian had been laying on a bag of frozen vegetables to ice the other side of his face, and in the moment, Mickey realized exactly when he’d been transported back in time to. Fuck. This was right after Mickey had beat the shit out of Ian in that abandoned apartment complex for confronting him about the wedding to Svetlana. This was right after Ian had confronted him in a way that he’d assumed Mickey would respond to, and the younger boy got nothing but coldness and hurt in return.
Thinking back, Mickey realized they’d never talked about this. In prison, they’d reflected on a lot of their past together, and apologized to each other for so many of their mistakes, but he realized now that neither of them had brought this up. He wonders if this is why. If Ian couldn’t talk about it, because according to whatever force the universe possessed, this was the most difficult point for Ian; the point where he needed Mickey the most, wanted him the most, and didn’t have him.
Ian met Mickey’s eyes and and an array of emotions flashed across his face before he settled on what Mickey could only describe as confused concern. The boy sat up quickly, throwing Mickey’s hand off his shoulder. He looked Mickey up and down a few times, before visibly deflating and tilting his head just slightly.
“You’re older,” he stated simply, meeting Mickey’s eyes again.
Mickey breathed out a laugh and sat down beside Ian.
“Yeah. I am.” Mickey leaned over and slowly reached out to wipe the tears that still stained Ian’s cheeks, giving him every chance to brush him away. Ian didn’t seem to mind. Mickey cupped his soulmate’s face in his hands and wiped the tears with his thumbs, before pulling away to lean against the wall.
He watched as Ian seemingly collected himself for a moment, taking deep shaky breaths, before turning to face him.
“Is today your birthday? Are you 25?” Ian asked in a small voice that made Mickey’s heart ache.
“Yeah,” the older boy replied in a similarly shaky voice. This was a lot.
Ian let out a breathy sob at that, and Mickey felt he had no other choice but to reach out and pull the boy into his arms and hold him protectively against his chest. Ian tucked his face into the space between Mickey’s neck and shoulder, still breathing shakily.
The two soulmates lay there for a moment, just feeling each other breathe, Ian trying to calm himself down and Mickey stroking a hand through the younger boy’s hair on the back of his head. He was reminded of a different time, later on for Ian, where they stood in a different place, but in a similar position, right before Ian was admitted to the hospital. Mickey couldn’t save Ian from that future. Anything he would say now would be forgotten by Ian the instant Mickey left. But he could offer hope in this moment. He could provide security. And he could tell Ian that this whole thing wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t because Mickey didn’t love him.
“So, listen-“ Mickey started, but was quickly interrupted.
“Mickey I’m sorry,” Ian pulled back to look at Mickey.
“You’re- what?”
“I’m sorry. This can’t be okay- you can’t be happy about this. You probably have a wife. And your dad. And now you’re finding out that I’m your soulmate and-“ Ian was panicking now, Mickey could tell.
“Ian, stop,” Mickey said firmly, shaking his head, “None of that matters. I’d honestly be more upset if it wasn’t you,” he assured Ian. “I know-“ fuck, this wasn’t what Mickey was good at. He wasn’t good with words, he wasn’t good at explaining emotions, or even at showing them half the time. Actions, he could do, but Ian needed reassurance right now. Mickey needed to tell him it was okay, and that this was good, being Ian’s soulmate was good.
Mickey took a deep breath. “I know that right now, I’m pushing you away, but you know why, and you know I wouldn’t do any of that by choice. The wedding, the ignoring you, the- the kicking your ass, man, I’m trying to protect you. Terry, he- I couldn’t let him get to you.”
Ian opened and closed his mouth a few times, and Mickey recognized this as him trying to find words that weren’t coming. Mickey felt the same. In all the time spent worrying about whether or not Ian would be his soulmate, neither of them had thought about when in time he’d end up, or what he was supposed to say when he got there. He was feeling very out of place, and very much like their normal roles were reversed.
“You were right, you know. What you said to me today. Well, your today. I do love you. I did love you. And I know I was bad at showing it, but everything that’s happening, it’s because I was absolutely terrified of what my dad would do to you if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I need you to understand that, Ian.” Mickey hoped the boy would get it. He hoped he was being gentle enough with him, but clear enough too. Yeah, he was shitty to Ian back then, and yeah, if he could go back and change it, he’d handle this situation differently, but he couldn’t. Ian needed to know why he was doing what he did.
For a moment, Ian just blinked at Mickey in response. Then, slowly, hesitantly, the younger boy reached out for Mickey’s hand. Mickey let him take it.
“You love me?” He whispered, awed green eyes meeting Mickey’s.
Mickey laughed and rolled his eyes fondly, because what else could he do? Of course this would be Gallagher’s take away from that whole thing.
“I did then. I do now,” was Mickey’s gentle reply.
“Are we still... whatever we are? You said you’d be more upset if it wasn’t me. Does that mean we’re okay? Do you call of the wedding?” Ian looked up at him hopeful, bright eyes.
Mickey sighed with a sad smile. He could answer these questions. He could give the younger version of his soulmate some peace of mind, even if this was more than bordering on far too sentimental for Mickey’s liking. He could do this for Ian.
“We’re together,” Mickey started, “It wasn’t smooth, but we’re together, and I don’t think that’s going to change.” Mickey smiled at that, because yeah. They were together. And the circumstances may not be entirely ideal, but yeah, they were together, and they had each other, and for the first time since they were teenagers, they had time. And especially now that they knew for sure they were soulmates, Mickey didn’t think anything would be able to separate them again.
Ian’s face lit up in response to that too. He was still holding Mickey’s hand, and squeezed it slightly, urging him to go on.
Mickey complied. “We are... as okay as we can be. We’re solid, man, more solid than we have been in a long, long time,” Mickey didn’t want to go into the whole prison thing. He didn’t know how much time he had here and he didn’t need to offer anything but good news and reassurance right now. “The wedding happens. But shit works out. We’re gonna be fine, I promise.”
Ian was still beaming, the puffiness around his eyes beginning to fade. Mickey knew that smile. It meant Ian was genuinely happy. Good. He’d wanted to offer him peace of mind and it seemed he’d achieved that, even if it had been at the cost of an uncharacteristically sappy speech.
Ian reached out between them with his free hand and placed it on top of the one that already held’s Mickey’s, in the younger boy’s lap.
“Can you tell me about us? I just need to know that we’re happy.”
“Yeah, man, I can do that.” And Mickey did. He left out the separations, and the mental health struggles, and prison. But he told Ian how much they loved each other. He told him that they spend every day together now, that not a day went by where they didn’t laugh, and kiss, and fall asleep together, that they would do anything for each other; they have.
Ian sat and listened, attentive, but with a soft and almost distant glint in his eye.
“Shit,” the younger boy breathed out after several minutes, once Mickey had wrapped up.
Mickey just smiled in response, throwing an arm over Ian’s shoulder and leaning back against the wall, pulling the younger boy with him. Ian leaned his head against Mickey’s shoulder and just breathed in.
“This is all I ever wanted, you know? Just you. Being together. You loving me. I just want us to be happy, Mick.”
“We are,” Mickey whispered back. And he was telling the truth.
Mickey wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, but at some point, he must have dozed off, and when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t sitting on Ian’s old bed anymore.
Taking in his surroundings, Mickey realized he was on the back porch of the Gallagher house, and that it was nighttime. He looked around trying to find Ian, but in the dark, he could see next to nothing. The back light was flickering, but offered no real visibility.
Just his luck that they would be one of those more-than-rare cases where the traveller ended up at multiple points in time. He supposed it made sense, though, because he was pretty sure these things were based on trauma. He briefly wondered how many points in time poor Ian would have to jump to, in just under two years, when his 25th birthday came around. Mickey could think of at least three, off the top of his head.
Sighing, Mickey descended the stairs, leading into the backyard, and that’s when he spotted Ian, back facing Mickey, lounging in... was that a hot tub? Yep. A hot tub. He wanted to be confused, or shocked, but he’d seen far stranger things in and around this house, so he shrugged it off and approached slowly.
Mickey wasn’t sure when this was. It was after the last jump, he knew; from what he’d read, when there were multiple jumps, it was linear. He’d never seen a hot tub in the yard though, so it must be after he was arrested because of Sammi.
He wasn’t sure how to approach Ian without scaring the shit out of him, because currently he was supposed to either be in prison or Mexico, and definitely not intruding on what was beginning to look to Mickey like a sulking session in this very misplaced hot tub in the dark.
He settled for a casual “Got room in there for me?”
Ian spun around instantly, nearly slipping in the process, and definitely spilling some of the beer he’d been nursing in the water.
The younger man stared at Mickey like he was seeing a ghost. His mouth opened and closed a few times in shock as the two just stared at each other, Mickey trying to gage exactly when this was.
“Mick?” Ian breathed, “You’re supposed to be in Mexico,” Mickey could hear the panic in his voice.
So that answered that.
Mickey walked closer, pulling off his shirt, kicking off his shoes and socks, climbing in the hot tub, and sitting a few feet from his soulmate. He left his jeans on, but whatever. Not like he had any clue where they even came from anyway.
“It’s my birthday,” he said casually, reaching across to grab the beer bottle from Ian’s grasp, who let it go easily.
“It’s June,” was Ian’s deadpanned reply, “your birthday is in August.”
Mickey topped the bottle toward the younger man in a ‘you’re right’ gesture and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to piece it together.
Ian just stared at Mickey for a moment before it seemed to dawn on him and his mouth dropped open and he sat up a little straighter in the water.
“It’s your 25th birthday. Shit.”
Mickey huffed a laugh at that and took a sip of the beer. “You got it.”
“Fuck, Mickey, you probably hate me and now we’re finding out that we’re soulmates oh my god, are you still in Mexico? I’ll come find you, or we can figure something out, I-“
“Gallagher, stop,” Mickey leaned further into the water, handing Ian back the bottle, and pulling himself slightly closer to the other man in the process. “It was years ago for me,” Mickey reminded Ian, “we’re good now,” he met Ian’s eyes, trying to convey that it really was okay.
They’d talked a lot about Ian’s reasoning for leaving Mickey at the border while in prison. Mickey got it. He understood that Ian couldn’t just throw his life away all of a sudden, that meds were something neither of them had accounted for, that running away to Mexico forever wasn’t a sustainable plan, that Ian had a family he loved and couldn’t just never see again. He got it. And he’d forgiven Ian long before prison anyway.
But still. Mickey knew how he’d handled the situation in Mexico, but he didn’t know how Ian had dealt with it here. Mickey just knew there wasn’t much time for Ian to really process losing him, because his mom had died by the time he’d gotten back, and then everything had spiralled with the Gay Jesus shit, and so Ian hadn’t really been able to reflect all that much, until prison when they’d talked about it. But Mickey knew Ian had really struggled with Monica’s death, and he’d told him that losing Mickey for what he believed to be forever had just made everything that much worse.
“You must hate me right now,” Came Ian’s unexpected reply to Mickey assuring him that they were good.
Mickey wanted to laugh at that, because the notion of hating Ian Gallagher was so foreign and unthinkable to him that it kind of scared him. He supposed it didn’t matter now though. Soulmates and shit.
“Nah, man,” Mickey sighed, “I don’t hate you. I get it. I promise. Wanna tell me why I’m here though? What’s going on?”
Ian laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “My mom died, everyone thinks I’m crazy because I’m upset about it, I cried in some random fat guy’s arms a few hours ago while Trev- while that boyfriend I told you about was with someone else. I let you down again and maybe you don’t hate me, but I know you’re mad at me, and I don’t think I’ll ever see you again, so you’ll be mad at me forever and I don’t know how to get over that. I just feel stuck, I don’t know.”
Mickey nodded. Ian had told him a little bit about this time, right after Monica’s death, when no one seemed to care that she was gone but him. And Mickey got it, he really did. As much as you can hate someone who’s done nothing but make your life miserable, somehow, something in you still feels this strange loyalty and obligation to them. That’s why Mickey kept in touch with his father while he was in Mexico. It was why he knew he would inevitably seek Terry out again when he did eventually get out of prison. Because he was still Mickey’s dad, and Mickey still wanted to be around the asshole, to make him proud.
So, yeah. Mickey got why Ian had such complicated feelings regarding his mother’s death. He’d seen firsthand just how complicated that relationship could get, multiple times. It was strange and unfortunate to know the future, to know that Monica’s death was a catalyst for a lot of what would happen next, and not be able to do anything to help Ian avoid it. How do you comfort the person you love at one of their lowest moments, when you know that it doesn’t necessarily get much better, at least not anytime soon?
Mickey decided to focus on the positive, and on what he knew for sure. “She was your mom, man. You’re allowed to be upset, I don’t give a shit what anyone says. That’s your mom. Don’t let your siblings make you feel crazy for having feelings,” Mickey rubbed circles against Ian’s thumb. He could feel the younger man hesitantly lean into Mickey’s body, and relax when Mickey made no move to pull away.
“As for the fat guy,” Mickey met Ian’s gaze with a teasing glint in his eye, “did it at least help?” Mickey was trying to lighten the mood.
“No,” was Ian’s whispered, almost-miserable-sounding reply, breathed against Mickey’s neck.
Mickey leaned down slightly, to press a comforting kiss to his soulmate’s damp hair at that. “You’ll see me again,” he whispered against said hair.
Ian lifted his head to shoot Mickey a confused look.
“It’s a long story. But I’m back in Chicago now- my now. I’m with you. I fell asleep in your arms last night, and I’m pretty sure I’ll wake up there too. And you’re happy. Stable. I know it feels hopeless and dark right now, but I haven’t seen you as sure of yourself as you are now, in a long time, Ian. Things aren’t perfect, but you’re gonna be just fine,” Mickey never broke Ian’s gaze, trying to convey just how sure if this he was.
Ian had tears pooling in his eyes when he pulled Mickey into a tight hug, pressing his face tightly into Mickey’s shoulder, and just holding him there, breathing in his scent, and trying to find solace in his presence.
Mickey, in turn, held his soulmate just as tight, allowing him all the time he needed to just feel Mickey against him. The two sat there in the dark of the backyard, the flickering of the porch light reflecting off the water of the steaming hot tub, Mickey cradling Ian’s head, his cheek pressed to the younger man’s ear, and his free hand rubbing circles on his back, until Mickey felt a tug in his gut and everything went black once more.
*******
Ian’s memories returned to him in a brief flash right at midnight, but he knew Mickey was living them in real time, and would take longer to wake up. Ian couldn’t guess how long he’d be out, but at some point, he drifted off, and Mickey was still out cold next to him when he woke up for breakfast.
Shortly after Ian had gotten dressed, two guards entered the cell to check on Mickey. Obviously, on their 25th birthday, if an inmate was still in the midst of their jump by morning, the guards let them be until they woke up. No amount of force could wake up a traveller mid-jump. Trying was useless.
As much as Ian wanted to wait here with Mickey until he awoke, he knew he wouldn’t get away with it, so he followed the crowd of other prisoners to breakfast.
The whole way there, and for most of his meal, Ian kept replaying both visits over and over in his mind. He smiled at the confidence with which Mickey told 17-year-old Ian that he didn’t see them being apart again, at the way he was able to reassure 20-year-old Ian that his emotions were valid; something no one else around him at the time had been able to successfully do.
Despite Mickey not being here, Ian felt lighter. The stress and worry of the last few weeks spent wondering whether or not they were soulmates was gone. In its place were the memories confirming they in fact were, and assuring Ian that nothing could truly come between them this time.
At some point, Enzo, from across the table, flicked a soggy corn flake at Ian, demanding his attention.
When Ian looked up, Enzo was grinning at him. “I take it there’s good news this morning, eh Gallagher?”
Ian smiled back, shaking himself from his thoughts. Enzo had been witness to several of Ian and Mickey’s rather loud discussions about the soulmate issue over that last few weeks, having been forced to hear everything through the vent of their cell.
Ian couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed with the mild teasing. “Yeah,” he laughed lightly, “we’re soulmates. Even visited me at more than one point in time,” Ian grinned even wider, realizing this was the first time he’d said it out loud. He and Mickey were soulmates. Holy shit.
“Ah, gross man, look at how happy you are,” Enzo teased, making his cellmate and a few of the other men that were sitting with them groan in mock disgust. Ian just laughed with them. He was completely unbothered and just simply overjoyed.
After breakfast, Ian wandered back to their cell, where he found Mickey still out cold. From his memory, Ian didn’t think Mickey’s visit had been that long, but he was no expert on how the hell time travel worked, so he waited. Ian had asked for the day off at his job in the infirmary and, surprisingly, had been granted leave on account of his “special circumstances” once he’d been forced to explain that, no, he and Mickey were not just a prison romance, and that they’d been together, on and off, for eight and a half years. He suspected it was just that no one wanted to listen to him either talk about being Mickey’s soulmate, or worse, complain about not being his soulmate, for the whole day. Regardless, that left him with the freedom to stay in their cell and not-so-patiently wait for Mickey to wake up.
It was nearly lunch time when Ian, arm draped over Mickey’s middle, wedged between his boyfriend’s back and the wall, finally felt Mickey stir.
Mickey opened his eyes, adjusting to his surroundings and quickly realizing he was back in his prison cell, and no longer in a hot tub, or in any other point in the past. As the fog around his brain begun to fade, he registered the arm over his hip, brushing gentle circles, and, realizing exactly what was going on, turned in Ian’s arms, smiling so wide his cheeks quickly begun to hurt. He was met with an equally bright grin from his soulmate, and the two men just stared at each other for a brief moment, before Mickey leaned forward, connecting their lips in a heated, yet somehow also comforting kiss, that ended with Mickey pressing Ian to the bed, smiling down at him, pinning his wrists above his head.
“Good morning, soulmate,” Mickey breathed against Ian’s lips, before kissing him once more.
“Morning soulmate,” Ian mumbled back, sounding dazed, wrists still being held above his head, and lifting his neck for more leverage and he reached for Mickey’s lips again.
Mickey pulled away for a brief moment, to stare at the younger man once more, and was flooded with far too many emotions to even attempt to process this soon after waking up, though one in particular stood out the most.
“I love you,” Mickey said firmly, releasing one of Ian’s hands in favour of cupping the man’s cheek instead.
Ian’s smile grew even brighter and he reached up to hold the back of Mickey’s head in his palm, bringing the older man’s face less than an inch from his own. “I love you too, Mick. Happy birthday,” his whispered before connecting their lips once more, this time with far more intent.
And yeah, they were in prison, but Mickey got a soulmate for his birthday this year, so really, there was no competition; nothing could ever beat that.