Just This Once
Ian stood on the rooftop of an abandon building, listening for a sign. Ian knew Mickey liked to spend most of his time shooting at empty liquor bottles in the South Side's abandoned commercial district. Mickey had been ignoring him for a week now, and Ian couldn't take it any longer. He had to talk to him. He needed him.
Ian heard gun shots to his right and spotted an empty parking garage. Assuming that was where Mickey was, Ian ran down to the street. The crumbling buildings were covered in graffiti and there were dirty needles on the ground. During the day the addicts that typically occupied this district were out scoring their next hit, but they came back at night to ride out the waves of their high. Ian thought of his father, Frank, and figured that he had probably spent more than a few nights here.
Ian climbed to the top level of the parking garage and saw Mickey shooting his pistol at an empty bottle of whiskey. Mickey's face was still bruised and his left eye was nearly swollen shut. Ian's hand went up to his cheek, feeling the still tender cut on his own face. Mickey's dad, Terry, had done a real number on them. Terry beat the fuck out of them and Mickey had been blowing Ian off ever since.
Ian came up behind Mickey and said, "So your dad beats the fuck out of us and suddenly I don't fucking exist anymore?" Nothing. "Will you at least fucking look at me?" Ian said desperately. Mickey just fired off another round at the empty bottles on the other side of the lot.
There was no one that pissed Ian off more than Mickey, but there was no one that he loved more. Ian walked in front of Mickey just as he was about to fire again. Mickey jerked his hand to the side and a bullet shot past Ian's ear. "What the fuck, Gallagher?! Do you want to fucking die?" Mickey yelled.
"I want you to fucking talk to me!" Ian yelled back. "I can't stop thinking about what happened, about what he did to you."
"It doesn't fucking matter. Stop being a pussy and get over it," Mickey said, scowling at Ian.
"Bullshit, Mickey!" Ian screamed. "Your dad is a demented prick and he raped you."
Mickey laughed and rubbed his fingers just under his bottom lip. He couldn't understand why Ian was here, why he cared so much. Mickey could never give him what he wanted. Mickey could never be his fucking boyfriend, or hold his fucking hand in public. Fuck, Mickey could barely summon up the courage to kiss Ian on the mouth. Mickey looked at Ian and his face fell, twisting into agony for a brief moment before regaining his composure and hiding the pain with his tough, I-don't-give-a-fuck expression. "It's not like that would have been the first time," Mickey said.
Ian's brow furrowed as Mickey's words sank in. Not the first time. Had Mickey been raped before? "Mickey, I..."
"No, we are not fucking having this conversation. You think we're gonna cry and talk about our fucking feelings like boyfriend and girlfriend? No, you're just a fucking booty call to me, you understand?"
Ian's concern was burned up by his rage and he shoved Mickey in his chest, making him stumble backwards. "Fuck you! You are such a fucking coward. You are so afraid of your daddy that you can't even be yourself."
Mickey lunged at Ian and threw him on the ground. Mickey cocked his fist back and struck Ian just above his eye. His pale skin split open and blood streamed down the side of his face. Mickey got off of Ian and started to walk away.
Ian stood up on shaking legs and said, "Why can't you just admit it? Just this once, admit it, admit that you love me. I know you do."
Mickey turned around and walked back to Ian with rage in his eyes. Ian made no move to defend himself. Mickey grabbed his shoulders and brought his knee up into Ian's stomach. Ian collapsed to the ground curling up in a ball.
Mickey stood over Ian as he slowly got on his hands and knees. Ian's ribs were throbbing and blood was running into his eyes. He held one hand over his stomach and stared at the ground. "You wanna fag-bash, is that it? I'm not gonna fucking stop you."
"You just don't know when to stop running your fucking mouth, do you, Gallagher?" Mickey said as he grabbed Ian's coat and dragged him up to his feet. Mickey pushed Ian up against a cement pillar and cocked his fist back.
"Please, just this once, please," Ian begged, choking on the pain. "Just say you love me."
Mickey stared into Ian's blue eyes and his chest ached. He lowered his fist, but didn't release Ian. Mickey balled the front of Ian's shirt into his fist and then quickly released it. Mickey spun around and ran both hands through his messy hair. "Yes, okay, yes, I fucking love you!" Mickey screamed at the ground. "What do you want me to fucking say? Of course, I love you, you stupid bastard. You're the only thing I have that's real in my fucked up life," Mickey said as he paced back and forth in front of Ian. Mickey suddenly stopped and looked right at Ian, "You just don't fucking get it. Not everyone gets to say how they feel every second of the goddamn day. You don't know what Terry is really like, what he is really capable of. What he did to us the other day was just a fucking taste."
Mickey walked towards Ian and raised up his shirt, "You see that, Gallagher?" There were small, round scars all up and down Mickey's side. Cigarette burns, at least thirty different faint marks scattered all over his skin. "He stopped thinking that was funny when I turned thirteen," Mickey said with disgust.
Ian reached out his hand and brushed his fingertips over the scars. Mickey's muscles tensed and a shaky breath escaped from his lips. Ian's hand tightened around Mickey's waist and he brought his other hand up twisting his fingers into Mickey's hair. Ian flipped Mickey around so he was the one with his back pinned against the wall. They smashed their bodies together, Mickey desperately reaching up to meet Ian's lips. Ian pulled off Mickey's shirt and bent down to kiss his scars making him inhale sharply. Mickey pushed off Ian's jacket and yanked his shirt up over his head, while Ian undid Mickey's belt. Ian grabbed Mickey's face and kissed him, pressing their lips together so hard it hurt. He spun Mick around so he was facing the wall and pulled down his pants exposing his perfect, white ass. Ian pulled down his own pants and stood their admiring Mick's beautiful body.
"You gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna fuck me Gallagher?" Mick said, flashing that sexy half grin.
Ian chuckled and rolled his eyes. He put one hand on the arch of Mickey's back and slowly pushed himself inside. Mickey moaned as Ian pushed deeper inside him. Ian held Mick's hands against the wall and intertwined their fingers.
They were each other's anchors. Holding each other in place through the chaos of their fucked up worlds.
"I love you," Mickey whispered.
Just this once, he can say he loves me.
