Chapter 14

(Mickey POV)

Mickey woke up the morning after his birthday feeling refreshed. He still hadn't had the dream again. He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearing noon. He could still feel the heat from Gallagher's body against his back and side. Mickey decided not to move. He was still on his stomach, on the far side of the bed, facing away from Gallagher and the door. He was still pinned down by the arm draped across his back. He laid perfectly still, and thought about what this meant, if it meant anything at all.

Mickey fucked girls. It wasn't difficult. He just did it. He enjoyed sex. So that meant he was straight. Didn't it? Although, he never really cared much for their tits... and he always enjoyed it more when he didn't have to look at their faces... and he hated kissing...

Except that kiss with Gallagher had been different. He gently shook his head to clear it.

Why was get getting erections when thinking about Gallagher? Why did he dream about that night he broke the redhead's nose over and over? Why did it hurt so much when he thought about hurting Ian? And why did it feel so good to be lying next to him now? The boy had always had a calming effect on Mickey in the past. Was this just an extension of that feeling?

Mickey's heart rate had been steadily climbing as he ran through everything in his head. What would this mean? What would his family think? His father would kill him, if his brothers didn't get to him first. Then he realized where he was. His family wasn't anywhere near him. The only person that mattered to him was Mandy, and she seemed to have no fucking problem with Travis or Ian. Hell, she'd known about Ian for over a year now. Would she hate Mickey as much as he hated himself? He was her big brother. That made things different.

His thoughts were racing by, but they came to a sudden halt when he felt Ian move behind him. He could unmistakeably feel an erection against his thigh. You've got to be kidding me...

Still frozen, Mickey thought about what he could do. Questions of his sexuality aside, what he did know for sure was that he was uncomfortable now and wanted this awkward moment to be over. He only had two options: wait for Gallagher to wake up, or get out of bed.

Mickey cleared his throat loudly and turned to his side, effectively dropping Ian's arm so that it was only resting against him and no longer splayed out across him. He waited silently as he felt Ian begin to stir. He heard the change in the redhead's breathing as he woke up and took in his surroundings. Ian suddenly lifted his arm and shifted back in the bed. He must have realized he had a boner poking against Mickey. He was sure that Gallagher didn't know what to do, just as much as he himself didn't know what to do. Mickey just laid there, pretending to still be asleep, trying to keep his breathing slow and steady. He felt the boy's eyes on him, watching. Then the bed moved again as Ian swung his legs over the side of the mattress and got up.

It wasn't until the door closed that Mickey finally moved. He rolled onto his back and stared at the door, as if he'd somehow find the answers to his questions in the wood if he looked hard enough. When he heard the shower go on, he decided to get up and get some coffee. Maybe some Tylenol too, although his head didn't hurt half as much as it should.

Mandy wasn't home when he passed her room. The door was open but there was no one on the unmade bed. He turned on the cheap coffee machine they had bought when they'd first moved in, making sure to fill it with enough water to make two cups. He sat at the table, waiting. A few minutes later, he poured the coffee into a pair of mismatched mugs and set them down. He heard the water shut off and watched the door, waiting for Gallagher.

"Hey," Mickey said when the boy finally walked out, towel around his waist. Mickey fought to tear his eyes away from the curve of Ian's hips and the droplets of water still on his abs. He looked up at his Ian's green eyes, waiting, hoping. He wasn't sure if Ian was going to respond. It had dawned on him sometime that morning that Ian still hadn't said anything to Mickey.

Ian surveyed the room and noticed the coffee on the table. He walked over and sat at the seat across from Mickey, suspiciously eyeing the mug. He looked up the the boy and finally replied, "Hey."

He wasn't sure if the redhead felt it, but the sudden release of tension in the room was palpable to Mickey.

They sat quietly drinking their coffee. "Missed ya," Mickey said after a few minutes had passed. He just had to get it out. Had he really felt so empty before?

"You did?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, man."

Ian smiled then. It was the first genuine smile Mickey had seen on the boy in a long time—maybe since Christmas. It made him feel proud; Mickey had been the cause of that smile.

"Don't you have work?"

"Nah, not 'til 8 tonight. Travis is covering for me at the diner. Where's my sister? Don't you two have a fun, jam-packed week planned?"

Ian pulled a face. "I have no idea. I should check my phone; she might have texted."

He got up and went to Mickey's room. "She said she went to work early to help Travis out!" Ian called from down the hall. His voice was coming from Mandy's room now. Mickey put the empty mugs into the dishwasher and walked out to find Ian.

He was already dressed and was bending down to rummage through his duffel bag. Mickey couldn't understand why, but he really wanted to keep the redhead talking. Maybe it was as simple as him not wanting that deafening silence to return. "Looks like we have some time to kill," he said. Then his stomach grumbled. "Hungry?"

Ian was distracted. He finally found what he was searching for. He pulled out the beige hoodie that Mickey had gotten him at Christmas and put it on over his t-shirt. Mickey was feeling very pleased with himself.

"We can walk to Cherry Valley and pick something up," he pressed when Ian still hadn't answered him.

"Sure, Mick. You should probably get dressed first though," Gallagher said, motioning to Mickey's torso. He looked down and realized he was still in only his boxers. He smirked at the redhead.

"Yeah, smart-ass. Thanks for the tip."

Mickey first went back to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and wash his face. Then he changed his boxers and put on a clean pair of jeans, shirt, sweater and socks. He found one of his boots in the corner of the bedroom under yesterday's pile of clothes and the other in the hallway, next to a crushed beer can, which he promptly threw away.

"How are you functioning today?" Ian asked him.

Mickey turned around and grinned at him. "I'm a Milkovich," he said, as if that explained everything. "Come on, I fucking love this deli. Brian took me to it for the first time a few weeks ago and I've been hooked. They're open 24/7 and the best part is that they will put gravy on anything you want. And their disco fries..." Mickey moaned, thinking about the delicious fries with gravy and melted mozzarella cheese...

They got their sandwiches and fries, walked back to the apartment and sat on the couch to eat. Ian got up and brought two beers over from the fridge. Mickey turned the TV and was flipping through the channels when Gallagher yelled, "Wait! Stop! Go back!"

Mickey went back a few channels and raised an eyebrow when he realized what show Ian wanted to watch. "Deadliest Catch? You're serious?"

"Yeah man. Haven't you ever watched it?"

Mickey shrugged. He didn't want to admit that he would never have been caught dead watching a show on the Discovery Channel, much less a show about fishing.

"This show is the shit. I watch it with my brothers and sisters all the time. You know, someone gets hurt in almost every episode..." Ian took a huge bite of his sandwich and Mickey smirked when a glob of gravy dripped down his chin. He knew perfectly well the only way to eat a sandwich from Cherry Valley was with reckless abandon, and he loved that Ian wiped his face with the back of his hand and then licked it off. Only pussies used napkins.

The show wasn't bad. They finished their lunch halfway through the second episode, and just as Ian had promised, someone got hurt. The deck boss of one of the boats slipped and got his finger stuck between a launcher and an 800-pound crab pot. He lost the tip of his finger—it completely got severed off, below the nail. They were out in the middle of the fucking ocean, and even though they found the piece of his finger, everyone knew there was no way they would be able to reattach it. All they could do was stop the bleeding and bandage him up.

"He has tattoos where you do," Ian said as he gently pressed his fingertips on Mickey's knuckles. The unexpected physical contact scared Mickey, but he only tensed up. Despite all of his instincts which told him to recoil, he didn't move. Mickey looked down at their hands. The electricity he felt where Ian's fingertips connected with his skin was what really had surprised him.

What Mickey regretted was the way Ian had flinched after realizing what he'd done. Gallagher quickly withdrew his hand and looked away. Mickey was conscious of a sudden emptiness; his hand felt cold where there had once been an unimaginable warmth.

"Relax, Firecrotch. I'm not gonna hit you. Mandy would probably cut my balls off if I even thought about it."

Gallagher looked back at Mickey and studied his face. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like much longer. "So..." Ian started, hesitantly. "You... you don't... you don't care? That I'm... gay?"

He'd said it. He'd told Mickey he was gay. Mickey didn't think he ever really would have said it. Especially not after Mickey had called him a "fucking faggot" in front of everyone at the bar. The kid actually has a pair... Mickey thought. "No," Mickey replied. It was simple, final, and honest. Then, just like it had with Travis after his confession, Mickey's curiosity got the better of him. "Are you sure?" he asked. "About being gay, I mean," he clarified.

Ian's response was quick. "Yeah, Mick. I'm fucking sure."

Mickey tried to let that settle for a minute, but he still had questions. "But... how can you be sure? Have you ever had sex with a girl, just to see if you liked it?"

"Have you ever had sex with a dude just to see if you liked it?" Ian countered. Mickey made a face as Ian chuckled. "I had this same conversation with Lip once, after he got his slutty girlfriend Karen give me head. He suggested I just 'throw it in a girl' and see what happens. No thanks..." Ian was still laughing a little.

"Sex is great, though..." Mickey was still trying to understand.

"Yeah, it is great," Ian agreed. "I just have it with guys instead of girls."

Mickey really didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.

Starting that night, Brian began training Mickey behind the bar. He told him that the bartending courses that were offered by the various schools in the city were a complete waste of money and that all Mickey really needed was to learn his shit and get an ABA certification.

Ian and Mandy hung out in the mornings and when Mickey finished at the diner, he found himself sacrificing his afternoon nap just to chill with the redhead. He was only there for the rest of the week, after all. Why let him waste his vacation sitting around and waiting for Mandy to finish her shift?

One such afternoon, they had gone to a pool hall in Flushing. Mickey liked it because it was cheap and the Koreans that owned it didn't give a shit about serving alcohol to minors. Mickey still had his brother's ID, but he wasn't sure if Ian had one. He didn't bother asking.

"How do you find people to fuck?" Mickey suddenly asked. He hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, but he had been thinking about it for the last couple of days. Their neighborhood was not someplace you could just go announcing that you were gay—not if you wanted to be alive the next day. Mickey had wondered how Ian had met anyone else gay, let alone been able to confront them and start anything up.

Ian seemed to understand the question without any explanation on Mickey's part. "Well, the last time that my mom showed up, she took me to a gay bar downtown. She said I wouldn't have any trouble getting in without her, since young guys like me were the 'bread and butter' of the place. She said they needed 'fresh meat like me to keep the old guys coming in.'"

Mickey choked. "You went to a gay bar with your mom?"

Ian blushed. "Uhh, yeah. She's bipolar. When she's on her meds, she kinda becomes a dyke," he admitted. "Anyway, she knew about this place and took me. We danced and had a pretty decent time. I didn't meet anyone that night, but she was completely right. The next time I went back alone, I had no trouble getting in."

Mickey leaned down and line up his shot. "So you just go to this bar and pick up random guys?" He missed the pocket barely and sighed in frustration.

Ian cleared his throat. He seemed nervous and Mickey had no idea why. "Well, not really. I mean, when I went back that first time, I met this guy Lloyd and I've been seeing him a lot since then."

That surprised Mickey. What did that mean? He leaned against the pool table and but his lower lip.

"So what are you, like boyfriend and girlfriend or something?"

Ian shook his head. "No, not exactly." He shoved Mickey out of the way to take his next shot. "He's sort of married." Ian sunk next two shots perfectly.

"Married? How old is this fucking guy?" Mickey pressed. He wasn't sure why he was getting so riled up.

"Why's it matter?"

Mickey shrugged. "Just curious."

Ian eyed him carefully before answering. "I don't know... maybe 50 or something?" He looked over the table to find his best (and probably last) shot. "8 ball, corner pocket," he muttered, nodding his head towards the back right pocket. Mickey wasn't watching the table. His thoughts were stuck on what Gallagher had just told him. He was basically fuck buddies with some old guy. But why did that even bother Mickey? The clack as the cue ball connected with the 8 ball brought Mickey's attention back to the game and he looked up just in time to see the ball disappear into its designated pocket.

"Fuck."

"That's three in a row, Mick. Why'd you bring me here if you suck at pool so much?" Ian teased.

Mickey took a sip of his Jack and Coke, deciding to keep his mouth shut instead of answering the redhead. He'd probably say something really fucking stupid out of anger, and he was making an effort to be civil to the kid. He took a deep breath. "Shut the fuck up, Firecrotch. Let's go again."

Mickey actually won the next three games and tied the count. It looked like all he needed was a little motivation, and anger worked wonders. It was too bad he had to get to the bar soon, otherwise he was sure he could have beaten Gallagher for the last game and wiped that smile off his face. Mickey was a sore loser, but when he thought about it on their walk back to the apartment, he wasn't sure if he was pissed entirely because of the game. It was more of what Ian had said about sleeping with the married guy.

The next few days passed without incident and Mickey pretty much avoided bringing up anything that would lead to more conversations about Ian's sex life. The night before Ian had to leave, he, Mandy and Travis stopped by the bar after closing for a few drinks. Mickey had just finished cleaning up and was exhausted. Going a whole week with only getting half of his regular amount of sleep was finally catching up with him, regardless of the fact that the few hours of sleep he got each night were now actual, uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep. He saw that their group was only getting started for the night, but he could barely keep his eyes open. It was a good thing he didn't have to be at the diner the next day.

"Sorry guys, but I really gotta get some sleep. Maybe next time," he said, trying to placate Brian and Mandy. He got his hoodie and walked back to the apartment briskly. It was still cold out.

When he got upstairs, he realized he was too stressed to sleep. Maybe he shouldn't have left? He felt like there was so much he wanted to say to Ian, but couldn't get himself to talk about any of it. He was sitting on the couch in the kitchen, smoking his third or fourth cigarette, when he heard the upstairs door open. Ian eventually popped his head into the room. "Hi... I thought you left so you could sleep." Ian sat down beside him and took the cigarette out of Mickey's fingers, then took a puff.

Mickey let him keep it, taking out another one from his pack for himself. When Gallagher had finished it, he lifted the pack and offered him another. Ian took it and then grabbed Mickey's out of his mouth, using its lit end to light his own. Jerk could have just asked for my lighter, Mickey thought. He grabbed it back when he saw Ian didn't need it anymore.

It was really bothering him—thinking about Ian being with someone who was more than twice the kid's age. Someone married. Did Mickey have any right to be upset though? Why should he care? Gallagher was his friend, he reasoned. He looked over at Ian and saw that the redhead was smiling again, rolling the cigarette in his fingers in between puffs. It was the same fucking grin that he only used when he knew he did something that would piss Mickey off and was waiting for Mickey's reaction.

Mickey's phone beeped before he had a chance to respond.

[2:34am Mandy: i'm bringin brian over. can ian sleep in ur room w/ u?]

"Looks like you're out of a bed again," he said to Gallagher. "Mandy just texted that Brian's spending the night." He showed Ian the message and then typed back a response.

[2:34am Mickey: ya. whatever.]

"You don't mind?" Ian was looking at Mickey with a bit of worry in his eyes.

Mickey shrugged. "No. I don't have to be at the diner tomorrow, so I can sleep in. I'm beat." He got up and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. He got up and walked to his room, already undressing. Ian followed suit. They got into the bed, and Mickey noted that Ian was keeping to the edge of the bed. He wondered if Gallagher was still afraid he'd hit him or something.

"What time's your bus?" Mickey asked, lying on his back with his hands behind his head.

"It leaves at 3 tomorrow afternoon, but from the Port Authority. I'll take the 7 train into the city."

"Is Mandy going with you?"

"I'm not sure... Actually, I think she might be working. She mentioned something about covering for Liz because one of her kids is sick."

Mickey wasn't sure what got into him when he replied: "I'll go." He regretted the offer right away; however, the words were already out. He tried not to look at Gallagher but couldn't help himself. He saw the boy's smile in the dim moonlight coming in from the window and felt his lips begin to curl up in response.

Why the hell did it make him so happy to see Ian smile? Mickey turned over onto his stomach and was asleep in 2 minutes flat, still smiling.