Prom Queen
A Gallavich FanFiction
Sometimes it is about the questions you don't ask
:-:
Ian made it about fifteen minutes before walking out the door. Back when they had been selling tickets, it had mattered to Mandy and Ian had done his duty and bought them: pretences must stand. Then she had gone and snuck Lip in anyway.
Ian was beyond pretending now. He had danced through one song with Mandy then, feeling like an idiot, had tag-teamed Lip and left. He didn't have to say what he was thinking for Lip to know – it probably explained the joint he dropped in Ian's pocket. Without a backward glance, the redhead left the hall and disappeared towards the baseball field – the bleachers being one place he had never had to hide who he was.
"The fuck Gallagher?!"
Ian's head snapped up as he recognised the voice then, grinning widely, pulled himself up on the bars and through to where Mickey was sitting.
"What are you doing here?" Ian asked; it wasn't like they had made plans or anything.
"You can fucking talk – what's with the tux?"
"You didn't answer my question." A year ago he wouldn't have been this cocky in challenging Mickey, but a year ago Mickey would have threatened him. Milkovich did less of that these days – at least to Ian.
"Terry's drunk." It needed no further explanation – there was no way Mickey was going to be hanging around the house waiting to have his ass handed to him. He went to get out a cigarette but Ian offered him the joint instead. When Mickey took it Ian pretended not to notice their fingers lingering longer than was really necessary.
They shared it for a few minutes, taking in turns for a hit. Eventually Ian lay down to look up into the darkness above.
"Prom."
"What?"
"I was at my fucking prom."
"Jesus Gallagher! You go in for that shit?"
"Mandy made me." The bow tie he had never bothered to do up was now pulled from under his collar. He twisted it in his hands.
"My sister went to a fucking prom?"
"You should have seen her; she looked nice."
Mickey snatched the joint back from Ian along with the bow tie. "You better be glad you're fucking gay man – or I would beat your ass for even looking at her."
There was another silence during which Mickey also lay down on the ground – alternating between smoking the joint and trying to set the tie alight with it.
"Why didn't you tell me about your prom?"
"I didn't think it was your kinda thing."
"It's not. Fuck Firecrotch! You think I'm some sorta girl? I just don't like losing out for an evening, okay?"
Ian stole the joint back, took a deep drag, and then turned on his side; running one hand across Mickey's torso.
"We've been here half an hour and haven't fucked yet," He whispered, far too close to Mickey's face for comfort.
"Fuck off Gallagher." Mickey shoved him so hard the joint went out between Ian and the ground. Neither even try to retrieve it.
Ian lay back down and closed his eyes: if he couldn't give in to horny, he could at least give in to sleep.
"Hey, Firecrotch?"
"Hmm…" Ian didn't even bother to open his eyes.
"Thanks for not inviting me to your fucking prom."
Even in the dark, Mickey could sense Ian's shit-eating grin and smiled despite himself.
Ian knew Mickey well enough to realise that, while he wasn't ready for the prom, he was still playing with Gallagher's bow tie.