#so Lip started a thing with the other PTA moms where they knit socks for kids who need socks

[howlinchickhowl]

this was not what i intended to write today, but i got caught up in the mickey x lip best bro-ship madness (thanks to @gardenerian, @baguetteslut, @celestialmickey) and inspired by the @galladrabbles prompt for this week from @flamingbluepanda, and this happened! It is not exactly 100 words long...but it is 6.7 times as long as that, so I feel like that counts?? maybe?? Right?!

anyway, whatever it is, it's here:

They're clearing away after dinner when Lip and Tami show up.

“Where’s the kids?” Lip asks, pulling Ian into a one-armed hug and dropping a couple of knitting patterns on the table with a nod in Mickey’s direction.

“Tory’s room.” Mickey replies, all three of them had piled in there as soon as the last piece of pizza was gone. “Where’s your hair?” 

Self-conscious, Lip scrubs one hand over his very closely-shaven head, a head that had had at least a half a head of hair on it this morning when Mickey had dropped Tory off for the school run. 

“Ah”, Lip ducks his head with that squinting grimace he does, “the guy got a little excited.”

Tami snorts from over by the stove where she is picking pieces of zucchini out of the salad, and Lip shoots her a sharp glare. 

“He found a gray hair.” She announces to the room, seemingly unaware of the daggers Lip is throwing her way. “Had a mid-life crisis in the car this morning, it was a whole big thing.”

“Christ Tami!”

“What? I was gonna ending up telling Ian later after a couple of drinks anyway, and you know he would tell Mickey, I don’t know why you pretend you can keep secrets.” 

Lip rolls his eyes with a huff and skirts around the table to go say hi to the kids. Ian winces with second-hand guilt as he goes. Mickey and Tami just meet each other’s eyes and shrug. 

“You ready to go?” Tami asks Ian, her feet clearly itching in her dancing shoes. His husband nods and gathers his wallet, jacket and keys, giving Mick a peck on the cheek and ushering her out the door. 

It’s a few minutes before Lip emerges from the bedroom, salad’s all boxed up and Mickey’s popped a beer while he puts the last of the dishes away.

He stops at the edge of the kitchen area, hands shoved in his back pockets, and they regard each other for a moment, quiet.

“What’s up Grandpa?” Mickey says eventually, just to cut through the weirdness.  He’s trying to keep it light, he learned nearly a decade ago that shitting on Lip is no fun when it actually makes him feel shitty. 

“Fuck off Mickey.” Lip grumbles, not quite in the pit of despair yet, though clearly sensitive. 

Mickey wonders how he’ll feel, when his time comes. Or Ian’s. If Lip’s there now they can’t be far behind. He’s growing thick wiry hairs in new places and sneezing so loud you could wake his entire army of dead nazi relatives. He’s ageing. They all are. And it’s hard to know how to feel about it.  

They are quiet, and his eyes drift to the box sitting by the balcony doors, delivered yesterday and yet to be opened. Assorted yarn from some dead lady’s knitting stores, he’d paid six bucks for it on ebay without knowing what was in it. That’s the kind of shit he did these days. Old Man Milkovich, buying yarn on the internet to share with his Geriatric Gallagher brother-in-law. If his fifteen year old self could see him now.

“Hey uh, estate sale lucky dip thing got delivered yesterday.” 

“Oh yeah?” Lip looks relieved at the change of topic, and kind of psyched about the yarn, Jesus Christ they’re barely even forty. 

“Wanna look through? Might be some shit you can use for Sockathon or whatever.”

“Yeah cool. Smoke first?” He nods, and they both move in the direction of the balcony, Lip patting his pockets for his smokes. 

Mickey sidles up as they walk and gets a hand on the back of Lip’s head, fucking weird and bristly, he remembers hating Ian’s when he buzzed it in prison. 

“Just try not to get upset if there’s any gray stuff in there.” He jokes, giving Lip’s head a hard shove and dodging away from the shove that comes in return. 

“Suck a dick, Mickey.” 

Later, Mickey thinks, with glee. Later, he's gonna. Lip probably doesn't wanna know though, it is his baby brother's dick after all.