Ian was 14 when he lost his virginity to one of the most talked about guys in school. Not that this information had ever become public knowledge for many reasons, not least because Roger Spikey had been infamous for his supposed huge dick, and the way he "worked it with the laydeez" - Roger's phrase not anyone else's - and also because if word had got out that he and Ian had been fucking, then their high school lives would not have been worth living.
It still shocked Ian how it happened. It was such a clichéd moment. They'd been the only two left in the locker room after last period gym and Ian was sitting pulling on his socks when he had found himself blatantly staring in an effort to discover whether the rumours were true.
"See something you like?" Roger had asked, smirking. Ian had blushed at being caught and it had all gone on from there.
They'd worked up to it over a couple of weeks, but in the end, Ian had found out that none of the talk had been exaggerated at all and that losing his virginity to Roger Spikey was probably a lot more painful than it might have been with another guy. Roger hadn't seemed particularly bothered that it was Ian's first time. Not that he was an asshole about it, but as far as Roger was concerned sex was sex, so going slow was as much of a pain in the ass for him as it was for Ian – pun intended.
In the end, Ian decided "huge dick" was a very apt nickname for the guy. He wasn't sorry to see him leave when Roger transferred to Harlan High at the end of freshman year.
The only person Ian ever told about his encounter was Lip a year later, and that was only because Lip asked him after he cottoned about Ian and Kash. Ian didn't go into much detail and he knew Lip wasn't going to tell anyone.
As it happened though... someone else did find out.
The Milkovich boys were a regular fixture in the Kash and Grab. Not in any kind of a good way. For months on end they came in, took whatever they wanted, and they left without paying, Linda gave Kash hell for it and Kash was so frustrated he would make Ian fuck him the minute they were alone, which seemed like the only good thing.
However, as far as Ian was concerned, it wasn't worth Kash's constant stressing, and having to go to another store to re-buy everything that they stole. At the end of the day, Kash was afraid of the Milkoviches and Ian was getting sick of working in the constant air of terror.
The day came though when everything was different. The day when Ian became afraid.
It was Ian's Wednesday after-school shift when Mickey Milkovich sauntered in with a smirk on his face, and walked right up to the counter where Ian was sitting. Usually he didn't give either Ian or Kash so much as a second glance. He was in and out with whatever he'd come for, unless one of them challenged him – which they never did. Mickey's knuckles said "FUCK U-UP" and he'd been known to do that to many a person in the past.
Ian tried not to show the fear he was feeling. He straightened up in his chair and clenched his fists underneath the counter.
"Well, well. Looky what we have here," Mickey said, mocking.
"What d'you want, Mickey?"
Mickey grinned. "Well, I know what you want. Fag-boy," he said, pulling random items from the little shelves next to the register and sticking them into his pockets.
Ian felt his heartbeat thudding in his throat, he could hear it in his ears. "What?" He could hear the lack of nonchalance in his voice, but he tried to play innocent.
Mickey was walking towards the aisles now, not taking anything, just knocking things to the floor as he passed. "Oh the things I heard about you, Firecrotch. Taking it up the ass from Donkey Dick himself, eh?"
Fuck. Ian thought. He was playing for calm, but inside he was seething. The only place this could have come from was Lip.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice a little shaky.
Mickey laughed. It was a sinister sound. "Yeah. Thought you might say that. But I have it from a pretty reliable source though."
At that moment Kash came back in from the store room carrying a box of orange juice cartons. He stopped dead as he spotted Mickey.
Mickey gave him a derisive glance then looked back at Ian. "You're lucky I'm not in school tomorrow. We'd beat your faggot ass in front of everyone in the halls. As it is, we'll probably just do it in the street. More fun that way."
Ian was holding his breath.
"See you soon." Mickey leered at him, chuckling mirthlessly, then he pushed over a whole stand full of produce, pulled the door open and left.
The bell rang loudly in Ian's ears, bringing him back to earth with a bump. The breath whooshed out of him.
"What was that?" Kash finally spoke.
Ian practically jumped out from behind the counter, grabbing his jacket and headed towards the door.
"Ian? What's happening?!"
Ian swung the door open hard, looked both ways, checking that Mickey was gone, and started out, muttering "I gotta go."
"IAN!" Kash watched as he left, stunned, still standing where he had been the whole time.
When he got home he threw open the door to the house. "LIP!?" He shouted at the top of his voice before he was even fully through the door. "Where the FUCK ARE YOU?"
Lip trotted down the stairs. "What's up?"
"Don't give me 'what's up'," Ian pushed him in the chest as he reached the bottom.
Lip stumbled back, "Whoa! What's going on?"
"Mickey Milkovich just came into the store calling me a fuckin' fag. That's what's going on." Ian was livid.
Lip's eyes widened and he gestured towards the kitchen where the rest of the family were eating dinner. He pulled Ian out through the front door.
"What the fuck?" He asked in a hushed voice.
Ian was breathing heavily from rushing, "He knew about Roger. What the fuck did you say to him? WHY-?"
"What? Ian. No, man. I didn't say anything, I swear."
Ian was shocked into silence for a moment, but then he started shaking his head, "How the hell else could he have found out then?"
"Shit, I don't know," Lip looked as confused as Ian felt, "What did he say?" He pulled a pack of cigarettes out, put one to his lips and offered the pack to his brother.
Ian took one and lit it before he carried on. "He kept calling me a fag. Said they're gonna beat me in the street."
Lip lit his cigarette, "What are you gonna do?"
Ian watched Mandy putting her books in her locker. He had no wish whatsoever to talk to her, to start that rumour mill going. It was almost worse than the gay thing, but he had to do something.
"Hey Mandy," he called out.
She looked around trying to find the source of the voice before her eyes lighted on him. She gave him a lascivious smile, "Hey Ian," she replied, the words drawing out flirtatiously.
"Er... hey Mandy," he said again, "I need a favour."
Mandy eyed him suspiciously, "What?"
Ian swallowed, "I need you to talk to your brother for me,"
"Which one?"
"Mickey," Ian answered, his brow furrowed.
She raised an eyebrow. "If you want blow, he doesn't sell it here." She set off walking towards class.
"Oh. He doesn't?" Ian made out like that was exactly what he was after as he fell into step beside her.
"Too close to home. Cops almost caught him last time," She smacked her gum, "He only goes to Harlan and Julian now."
Ian stopped walking.
"I can ask him for you though? If you want?" Mandy stopped too, as she realised Ian wasn't with her anymore, and turned back to look at him, "Ian?"
Ian focused his attention back on her, "Er, no. That's... that's okay. Thanks."
"Anytime." The flirtatious voice was back.
Ian slowly walked back to his locker, trying to put two and two together and coming up with five.
Mickey was dealing blow at Spikey's new school. Roger would never willingly give up this information. What the fuck was going on?
"So you think the Beefmeister told him?" Lip was sitting on Ian's bed whilst Ian paced the room.
"I have absolutely no idea. But what the fuck am I going to do?"
"I don't know, man. Hey, maybe you could talk to Mickey?" Lip pointed at him, like he'd had an epiphany.
Ian was lost in thought, "Yeah..."
Lip threw a book at Ian, "I was kidding! Jesus, what are you gonna do? Appeal to a Milkovich's better nature?"
Ian stopped pacing. "What about Roger?"
"What about him?"
"Maybe he can shed some light? He's the only person left that knows."
"You gonna head up to Harlan?" Lip pulled a joint out of his pocket.
"I guess so," Ian replied, sitting next to Lip on the bed. "Will you come with me?"
Lip lit the joint, "I can't." He took a hit then passed it to Ian, "Gotta take a test for Andy Prescott tomorrow, but I'll cover for you? Say you're sick if you're gonna ditch?"
"Okay," Ian nodded, "Okay."
He had to wait until recess, and hanging around in the hallways of an unfamiliar school, where he'd essentially been from the time the bell rang for homeroom, was dangerous business. He was amazed he hadn't been caught yet by a teacher or someone.
When the classes all let out, Ian stood at the end of the hall and watched. He spotted Roger as soon as he stepped out from his classroom. He pushed his way through the hoards of kids, careful not to lose sight of him, and when he got close enough he said, just loud enough for Roger to hear, "Hey Donkey Dick."
Roger spun around like he'd heard a gunshot. His face was white and he looked so utterly terrified that Ian actually shrank back.
"What the-?" He held his hands up, "It's just me."
Roger grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards the boys' bathrooms.
He leaned in close, "What the fuck are you doing here, Gallagher?"
"I... hey can you let go of my wrist?" Ian twisted his arm in his grasp.
Roger dropped it and Ian continued, "I'm here because of Mickey Milkovich."
Feigning ignorance, Roger backed off, "Who?"
Ian pulled himself up, angry now. "Oh don't give me that shit, Spikey. He came and threatened me. He's gonna beat the shit out of me because we fucked. Now how would he know a thing like that, huh? Because I sure as hell didn't tell him."
Roger let out a sigh and leant back against the sink. He scrubbed his hands over his face, "I'm sorry."
"For what? For ratting me out? Or for the beating I'm gonna get?"
Roger didn't move his hands from his face, "Yeah. Both."
"You know what? I don't even give a fuck that he knows. I'm not ashamed that I'm gay, though clearly you are." Roger visibly flinched as Ian spat the words at him, "but I wanted to come out when I was ready, not have it beaten out of me by that shit because somebody couldn't keep their mouth shut."
"I'm SORRY!" Roger dropped his hands, "I didn't know. Okay? He came here with some blow. I wanted some, but when I couldn't pay him he got really fucking mad. I got a pretty good thing going here, I didn't want beating up, so I offered him some dirt instead. He said I didn't have anything worth what I owed, so I gave him that."
"You sold me out for some fucking drugs?" The disgust in Ian's voice was evident. His hands were clenched into fists, ready to punch Roger himself, but, "Ugh. You're not worth it."
As Ian made to leave, he heard Roger speak again in a small voice, "I wasn't ashamed, Ian. But my parents found out and they made me move schools."
Ian turned to look at him, feeling a mix of contempt and pity, "I bet nothing's changed here though, am I right?"
When Roger said nothing, Ian nodded, and walked out of the bathroom.
It was dark when Ian got off the L and he was still puzzling through everything as he took the shortcut home under the tracks. He didn't notice anyone was following him until he heard something break under someone's foot, and then he stopped dead.
"You ready for that beat down we talked about?" Mickey's voice was loud and echoed off the concrete pillars.
Ian turned to face him. They were only a few yards apart. It was cold but as Mickey lit up a cigarette, Ian could see he only had a sleeveless shirt on – like he was trying to make some sort of point about how tough he was.
With a resigned sigh, Ian waited.
Mickey took a few steps towards him, and as he got close, Ian stepped forward and took the first swing. Mickey ducked, but it landed. Not hard, and not enough to stop a Milkovich.
"Hehe, gotta do better than that," Mickey chuckled, before throwing his cigarette aside and tackling Ian to the ground.
Ian did his best to block the blows, though it didn't feel like Mickey was trying too hard. At one point Ian got free and he threw himself forward, attempting to commando-crawl away. Mickey landed on top of him and that was when Ian felt it.
The unmistakable feel of an erection pressing against the back of his thigh.
In a split second, he realised that maybe this was why Mickey had let Roger go without a beating. Why he'd taken the information as payment. He let out a surprised "oh!" and then Mickey was rolling him over and sitting astride him
"What's the matter, Gallagher? Got no fight left?" Mickey's face looked cruel in the dim light.
Their crotches were now completely aligned and, almost involuntarily given his position, Ian bucked his hips slightly, pushing them together.
He half expected Mickey to jump away, but instead his expression changed. The harshness disappeared, giving way to determination and he ground down against Ian in response.
Ian propped himself up on his elbows and looked Mickey right in the eye. A moment passed which felt like an eternity and then suddenly they were scrambling to get each other's clothes off, Mickey helping to pull off Ian's shirt and hoodie, and Ian almost ripping Mickey's shirt in his eagerness to remove it.
They didn't fuck. Not there in the cold and the damp, but from his advantage point Mickey had Ian's cock in his mouth before Ian really knew what was happening. He came unsurprisingly quickly and Mickey spat his come onto the ground.
To reciprocate, Ian jerked Mickey off with a spit-slicked hand. Quick firm strokes, smiling to himself, still shocked at the turn of events, as Mickey grunted and moaned his way to orgasm, coming all over Ian's hand and wrist.
Afterwards, they both dressed quickly and Mickey lit a cigarette. He didn't complain when Ian stole one from the pack.
"So-" Ian started.
"Just don't say a fuckin' word," Mickey replied. But as he stood up to leave he looked down and said, "See you when that shitty store opens?"
Ian nodded and, as Mickey left, he smiled. On Saturdays he worked the store alone.