The rest of the week was rather uneventful. He and Ian still bickered everyday. He realised that the redhead had a habit of waking up earlier than him most days. Ian also made the best hot chocolate…which needless to say was always left on the windowsill for him in the mornings. Mickey of course hated sleeping in the tree outside his room, so he would need to have a talk with the redhead very soon about that matter.
Smoking wasn't so much of a problem now too. Ian let him smoke, provided he gave him one cigarette every time he lit his own, so he was more prone to smoking when Ian wasn't there. Mickey was glad that he and his group had created a reputation of sorts amongst the student body, they were feared and that was good. He had his fair share of bullying other kids when Ian wasn't around. But when the redhead was there, Mickey was sure to give him hell.
Also he'd tried out for the school's soccer team, which he was happy to say he qualified for. Everything was good that is until the English literature lecture where Ian who was being a pussy cowering in his sister's protection was being a bloody show off. The redhead was on a goddamn roll, answering every question that the faggot excuse of a lecturer, Professor Lishman was dishing out to get this – the whole lecture hall.
If this were some kind of flirtation session he would rather do without it. So he packed his bag and slinging it over his shoulder he made his grand departure.
"Where do you think you're going?" the professor's voice rang loud and clear through the hall and Mickey turned back.
"Off?" he asked like as if it wasn't obvious enough.
"We aren't done for the day yet."
"Well I'm done for the day. I can't take this faggot shit no more," Mickey said as his eyes – fuck it all, met Ian's across the distance of the hall.
Ian stared after the dark haired boy, Mickey had clearly been staring at him. Clearly. Firstly he didn't understand why the fuck the delinquent would direct the message at him, secondly and most importantly, he didn't understand this feeling of hurt that was bubbling up inside him. Ian shook it off, shook that feeling away and turned back to face the lecturer, Professor Lishman. He was just the right degree of old and sexy, like aged wine that Ian knew would taste good. Yeah he had been flirting with the professor if you can call answering questions flirtation. No one would know. Besides Literature was his favourite subject.
"Right, ignoring all that nonsense, let's continue with our lesson," the professor said with a smile and Ian couldn't help but to look said professor in the eye and smile back.
When classes were over Ian packed up his belonging slowly waiting for the students to leave before he made his way down to Professor Lishman's table. "Hi," Ian said with a small smile.
"Ah, you. The bright young thing who keeps answering my questions," the man said with a knowing smile, "what can I do for you?"
"Uh…I'm Ian, Ian Gallagher…" he introduced, "and I was wondering, if you have any materials that I could use to read ahead?"
The professor laughed, a rich sound, "Why you must be the first who's asking me about reading ahead Ian," he said.
"I really love literature, it's my favourite subject," Ian explained.
"I can tell. Well I'll see you in class next Tuesday so why don't I pass you the books then?"
Ian nodded and smiled, "Thanks a lot Professor," he said.
"Oh Ian have you thought of joining any of the clubs by the way?" professor Lishman asked as he led him out of the lecture hall, the two of them walking across campus together.
"I already did, I'm in Drama Club," Ian said as he chewed on his lower lip, nervously.
"I see. Well, I'm the teacher in charge of that club f.y.i so don't let me down," he said a hand on his shoulder he gave him another smile before he walked off in the other direction.
Wow. If that wasn't an invitation, Ian didn't know what was. With his first week over already, Ian trudged back to his dorm room. It was empty thank goodness. Mickey wasn't around and Ian hoped that would stay that way for a little longer. He had things to read up on, and a paper to finish by Monday. He set his things down, took a shower and then settled down to work. At dinner, Mandy dropped by with some Chinese takeout and Ian told her about Professor Lishman. She was cool about it.
"I mean I don't really take literature so I wouldn't know about him at all," Mandy said, "but if you like him go for it. No one can stop you," she continued on a parting note and that got him thinking that night in bed before he fell asleep.
Of course it was another night where there was knocking on the window and Mickey calling to him.
"Gallagher, open the fucking window," he heard Mickey's slurred speech. He was drunk? What the actual fuck. Ian turned on the lights, opened the window letting cool autumn air rushing into the room. Mickey tossed his bag into the room and then struggled to come in. He stumbled and ended up knocking over his stack of books and Ian would have scolded him had he not been shocked at Mickey's current state.
"Shit," Ian whispered his hand covering his mouth as he stared at Mickey in his bloody, drunken state. "The fuck did you get yourself into?" he asked as he bent to help the raven-haired boy up. But Mickey swatted him away.
"Fuck off, I don't need your help," he mumbled as he crawled over to his bed and sat there, head lying back on his pillow.
Ian stared at him. His face was bloody, a streak of blood trailing down his forehead, his nose and his lip. They were still fresh wounds and still open, "Mickey," he said as he bent down, moving over to the other boy's side, "you're gonna bleed out like that," he said. Though his J-ROTC training taught him well enough that he would be fine. He was sane enough to form sentences and his movements were under the influence of alcohol.
"Just shut up and go away carrot top," Mickey said his voice irritated.
Ian rolled his eyes; going into the bathroom he dug out the dorm room's first aid kit. Then he took a cloth and wet it before he went back out. He set the kit down on Mickey's bed and then knelt at the other's side. Pursing his lips he dabbed the cloth over the other boy's forehead. He'd thought Mickey had already dozed off but as soon as the cloth touched the other's forehead, a strong grip circled his wrist and Mickey opened dark eyes turning his head to look at him.
"I'm helping you…" Ian said as he reached to pry Mickey's fingers off his wrist. Reluctantly Mickey let go, but he didn't stop looking at him as he cleaned up his bloody face. Ian made a few trips in and out of the toilet, rinsing out the cloth to clean Mickey's face.
All the while Mickey couldn't stop staring at Ian's parted lips, or the way the redhead bit his lips when he was nervous and the then wet his lips with a swipe of his tongue. He raised his gaze higher and noticed the way Ian's blue eyes were focused and filled with worry as he helped him. Mickey swallowed, closing his eyes as a deep ache filled his chest. He couldn't help himself
"What happened?" he heard Ian ask as gentle fingers rubbed anti-septic cream into his cuts.
"None of your business," Mickey said keeping his eyes shut tight to keep temptation out.
"You owe me an explanation," Ian said hitting his chest lightly.
Mickey hissed opening his eyes to glare at Ian, "I got into a bar fight okay? The fuck you gon' do about it?" he asked.
Ian shrugged, "How'd you manage to climb the tree then?" he asked.
"What, I had to get in," Mickey said, "sides I was prepped to sleep outside there again and you were going to get a beating for locking me out every night."
Ian shook his head a small smile creeping to his lips, "I'll be doing that till you learn to come in before curfew," he said, fingers reaching to brush Mickey's hair back gently as he stuck a Band-Aid on his forehead. "What do you even do out there anyway? Don't you need to study?"
"Fuck studies," Mickey muttered closing his eyes and totally avoiding the subject of what he did. He heard Ian sigh and then felt the redhead's presence move away from his side. The bathroom cabinets opened and shut and then he heard Ian turn off the lights.
"Are you going to spend the night sitting there?" Ian asked.
Mickey looked at the other in the dark, really looked, since Ian couldn't possibly see him staring at him in the dark. He took in Ian's large tee-shirt over boxer shorts, he was practically swimming in the shirt. Mickey knew Ian kept a toned body beneath that baggy shirt and he wondered why he didn't show it off today. Must be the alcohol talking…
"Yeah, it gonna be a problem carrot top?" he asked.
"Nope. Just don't blame me if you wake up aching and shit," Ian muttered as he got in his bed, curled up in his sheets and fell asleep. Mickey reached his hand out in the dark, pulling his blanket off his bed, he lay down on the floor and curling up on his side he fell asleep too.