Title: Everybody loses
By: carolinecrane
Pairing: Jake/Mickey
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Summary: Jake's POV. Inspired by Kate Nash -- Merry Happy. Kate Nash always makes me think of Mickey/Jake, which makes perfect sense, at least to me. The lyrics don't suit the fic at all, but Kate seems like the kind of girl Mickey and Jake would go drinking with, so maybe that's why she inspires me to write them.

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Everybody loses. Mickey lost Rose, then he found her again. Rose lost The Doctor and found her dad, and Jake…well, he lost Ricky, but he got Mickey in the bargain. That's how he thinks of it, as though it were some sort of trade and he ended up with a different model than the one he'd started out with. Not worse, just…different.

Some things are the same. They're the same hands that slide down his back, same lips pressed against his and the same voice chants his name when they're alone together. Mickey's got the same eyes as Ricky, same teeth and even the same hairstyle.

But there are differences too; Mickey smiles more easily, for one thing. He laughs at more of Jake's silly jokes and makes more of his own, and he's not so focused on saving the world that he forgets everything around him. Ricky did that a lot, took off for days – sometimes weeks – at a time without ever telling anyone where he was. Without telling Jake, and every time it happened Jake spent the whole time wondering if this would be the time he wouldn't come back.

He doesn't miss that bit.

Ricky was passionate about everything; from saving the world to the way he kissed Jake. When they were together everything was intense, like every time might be the last. And then it really was the last time, though neither of them realized until after. That time Ricky had been distracted, caught up in the sudden complication of his double appearing on the scene. And Jake couldn't really blame him, not when he'd entertained a few guilty thoughts of his own about the two of them. Together. Definitely not talking.

He still feels a bit guilty now and then, especially when he finds himself comparing Mickey to Ricky. The way he takes things slower than Ricky ever did, the way he laughs against Jake's skin and makes things sweet and fun and never as intense, but nice all the same. Mickey's happy to let Jake lead a lot of the time, and that's something Ricky never did. But Mickey can take charge too, and once Rose and The Doctor were gone he got a lot more confident.

A little more like Ricky. But never exactly the same.

It's easy to forget, sometimes, when they've been driving for ages and they've fallen into one of those brooding silences Ricky was so fond of. Sometimes, Jake glances over and sees Ricky, his mate forever and then more than that. Then that familiar face lights up in a smile that didn't used to be there, reminds him that this isn't Ricky at all. It's a strange sensation, like the air leaving his lungs all at once, and it always takes him a second to remember how to breathe.

Whenever it happens Mickey always frowns and asks what's wrong, but Jake never says because how could he explain it? Besides, he thinks Mickey might understand already, and there's no point talking about it. No point comparing Mickey to someone who shared his face but left just like Jake always knew he would.

This time they're driving across Spain, on their way back home after a pointless trip that ended in a lot of frustration and not much else. They're both tired and they're dreading going back to Pete empty-handed, with nothing to show for almost a week of chasing ghosts. So he's not prepared to look over and see Ricky in the passenger seat, jaw set in that familiar line and his fingers drumming against his knee in a beat Jake's heard a million times.

Then Ricky looks over and his face softens, and just like that it's Mickey again. Just like always, and Jake wonders for the hundredth time if he's gone round the bend.

"What?" Mickey asks, just like he always does, and just like always, Jake doesn't say. Instead he makes up a lie about switching up the driving for a bit and pulls over, and as soon as they're stopped he pulls Mickey into a kiss.

"What was that for?" Mickey asks when Jake finally lets him go, still smiling that sweet smile that Ricky never wore, not even when they were alone.

“Reckon I love you." He doesn't mean to say it, and in a way he feels even more disloyal now than he did the first time he slept with Mickey. But it's the truth, so he doesn't try to take it back.

“Reckon I feel the same.”

And for the second time in five minutes he feels punched in the gut, because that's exactly what Ricky said the first time Jake said 'I love you' to him. It's not the kind of thing you forget, after all, and he remembers exactly what he said to Ricky afterwards, too.

"What, you love you too?"

The first time he made that joke he got a short, sharp laugh and a hard kiss, then a couple sweaty hours in Ricky's bed. Only Ricky never said the actual words, and at the time Jake told himself it didn't matter. That was just how Ricky was. It matters now, though, because Mickey’s not Ricky, and if anything’s going to convince Jake of that, this is it.

"Don't be daft," Mickey answers, but he's grinning as he pulls Jake close again. "I love you."

"Good."

There's more he could say – more he should say – about how he feels, how he doesn't just love Mickey because he looks like Ricky. Maybe one of these days he'll tell Mickey so, tell him all the ways he's different from Ricky. And maybe he'll even tell Mickey that those are exactly the reasons Jake fell in love with him all over again.

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