Read and Review? I wrote it fast, it's not the best.


Ian couldn't- wouldn't believe that Mickey didn't love him, the signs were all there. One last time he thought to himself, just one last time to see what Mickey would do. Mickey couldn't marry some whore right? Right? No, he won't. He can't. He's gay. He is gay and in love with me, in love, with me.

He heard the gunshots as he came to the back entrance of the abandoned building where Mickey always went to blow off some steam. Ian grazed his fingers through his hair, slightly pulling at the roots. What if Mickey beat him again? His face was already screwed up and bruised, his right eye puffy and his bottom lip scared, not to mention the big welt of purple on his abdomen. Ian shook his thoughts away and pulled open the door, the door slammed back into place, ignoring the loud noise that probably alerted Mickey, he bounded up the stairs as fast as possible. When he reached the roof he slowed his pace down, breathing hard and shaking slightly.

He peaked around the cement wall and jerked away from view as soon as he heard the gunshot shake the wall, as the bullet came not even 2 feet away from Ian's head.

"Mickey!" Ian shouted covering his head with his arms, "You want me dead?" Ian heard a scuffle of feet and 2 more shots ring out, this time at least 10 feet away.

"Mickey …" Ian said softer, "Don't shoot me," he shakily came out from behind his hiding spot and started to walk towards Mickey who was glaring hard at Ian. Ian noticed there wasn't an alcoholic beverage around but that didn't mean Mickey hadn't drunk before coming. Ian stopped a few meter's away from Mickey and stared at him. Mickey's hair was messy, as always, his eyes were puffy from crying or from a lack of sleep and he had scruff along his jaw, which could mean he hadn't gone home for a while. Ian swallowed hard and itched his arm even though it wasn't itchy, he glanced at the gun and turned away looking at the view of Chicago from the roof.

"So, " Ian began-

"Leave," Mickey croaked out hoarsely, spinning the gun in his hand. Ian watched the gun spin once. Twice. Three-four times.

"No," Ian spoke up, straightening his back and standing tall, taller than Mickey. Mickey noticed and pursed his lips; with his free hand he rubbed his chin and looked away, squinting at the setting sunlight. He raised the gun slowly and pointed it at Ian; he sucked in his lips and pursed them once more.

"No? Are you sure?" Mickey spoke louder now and once again glaring hard at Ian. He was mad at Ian, he was mad at his father, he was mad at that Russian whore, he was mad at everything and everyone. Hell, he was even mad at Mandy for being Mandy. He was just furious at the world and he couldn't contain it, he couldn't. He wanted to be alone, like how he likes it, alone and independent, relying on no one and nothing.

Ian glanced at the gun and chuckled softly, Mickey already beat him and broke his heart, even though he wouldn't admit it and here he was pointing a gun at his head. He wouldn't- he couldn't shoot him right?

"You're going to kill me?" Ian said, stepping closer. "Do it," Ian was egging him on again, last time this resulted in him lying on the cold hard ground and he knew the possibility of it happening again was high. "Want to fag bash again?"

Mickey breathed deeply and jolted forward quickly, grabbing Ian's head in a headlock and jabbing the gun into the side of his skull. Ian felt weak in the knees and wouldn't-couldn't fight back. He didn't want to hurt Mickey because if it came down to it, Ian could easily win with all his training, but he dismissed that thought because he could never do that, not to Mickey. Ian held onto Mickey's arm to balance himself, his fingers digging into Mickey's flesh.

"Do it!" Ian screamed, tears welling up in his eyes from the lack of oxygen "Shoot the fag!" Mickey grunted and held on tighter; Ian felt Mickey's body shaking from anger. Mickey bit back a scream that might've came out as a sob, to see Ian in such pain was a struggle but to know that he had caused all this pain was too much. Ian was nothing but a booty call a few months ago, how could it turn around in a split second. Before he knew it whenever he saw Gallagher he was slightly happier than with anyone else or when Ian smiled it was hard to not smile back or when he finally kissed Ian he liked the way his lips tingled after. But no, he wouldn't-couldn't admit it, he would not say the words. He would not ever admit that he himself was some thing he despised most. A faggot.

"I'll do it!" Mickey screamed, finally finding his voice. "I don't care about you Ian! You were just a fuck, like I said before," His voice cracked, "just a warm mouth is what you are!" He pushed the gun deeper into Ian's head causing Ian to wince at the pain that was digging into his scalp.

"You called me Ian" Ian looked up at Mickey and smiled, angering Mickey even more. Mickey's leg reached behind Ian's and knocked Ian off his feet. Mickey let go of Ian and watched his head bang against the concrete floor. Ian swore and reached out his arms to the back of his head, Mickey shook his head and wiped at his eyes. He swung the gun around his fingers again and breathed deep. Then he lunged at Ian and pistol-whipped him across the face, Ian's head snapped to the side as the cold metal met his face. Ian moaned at the pain and clutched his face with his hands. He felt blood on his fingertips and the pain spreading towards all points of his face. Tears began to fall from the pain. Mickey watched Ian on the floor, in agony, groaning at the pain, tears falling down his face. Mickey wanted to reach out and hold him and make him better but he caused this pain and he wouldn't-couldn't do that.

Mickey glanced at Ian again, seeing a long gash from the side of his cheek to his chin that got cut from the metal, it looked like it might scar. Blood was all over his face and Ian looked like he just came off a murder scene. Ian blinked back the tears and stood up again, the pain and some blood blurring his vision. He looked down at the floor to see his blood dripping and his sweater stained where he had wiped the side of his face. Mickey looked at Ian as he got up and swore under his breath. Mickey threw the gun out of rage and grabbed Ian's arms, shaking him hard.

"What's wrong with you! Give up," Mickey was screaming his eyes staring right into Ian's, Ian pushed Mickey off him but Mickey grabbed his arms again. Ian stood still and spit some of the blood that got in his mouth right beside Mickey's foot. Mickey's lip curled and he kneed Ian the stomach. Pain exploded in Ian's stomach as Mickey's knee came into contact with his already healing bruise. Ian yelled out; dropping to the floor once again, blood spraying off his face due to his sharp movements. Ian's anger flared and he sprung back up ignoring the pain. He launched himself at Mickey, knocking him to the ground, ignoring the pain in his middle area he straddled Mickey to still his body and starting punching Mickey in the face. Ian's fist came into contact with bone and as he pulled back for another punch, Mickey looked up at him, blood spurting from his nose. Ian dropped his arm and slumped down, his body giving up. He stared down at Mickey's bloody face and touched his own, he winced as his fingers came in contact with the gash.

Mickey looked up at Ian's pained expression and grabbed Ian's shoulders, pulling him down to him. He grabbed his face and kissed his bloody mouth not caring anymore. Not caring about the pain that erupted as Ian's nose harshly came into contact with his. Not caring about anything just what he wanted to do, what he needed. Ian flinched as Mickey's lips met his, his face sensitive but his lips tingling. Ian and Mickey froze, neither one moving in case the other swung again. Their eyes met, each just staring and waiting to see what would happen.