Chapter 21:

"No," Ian said, with a shake of his head. "No, you're not."

Mickey stared at him for a couple of heartbeats, his lips parted. "Um," he uttered. "Yes, I am."

Mickey watched as Ian shook his head again. He was taking deeper breaths and looking around the room as if he had no idea where he was.

"Why?"

"Why? Why what?"

"Why the sudden change? Why now?" Ian clarified. "Why are you telling me?"

"Um, I thought about what you said, about her being pregnant not meaning we had to stay together forever. I can't be with her," Mickey informed him. "And as for why I'm telling you, I thought you would want to know."

"Be-because we're friends?" Ian offered.

Mickey shook his head. He was bad at expressing his feelings, he hadn't done it much throughout his life. He cleared his throat and sat up straight, then looked Ian right in those azure eyes.

"I don't want to be your friend, Ian," Mickey told him. "And I know I've been an idiot and I've made terrible decisions and I haven't been sure about what I was doing, or where I'm going, but I've been completely sure about one thing throughout this whole thing," he said.

"What?" Ian asked and his voice came out timidly.

Mickey took a deep breath, then exhaled for a long time. His heart was racing and he felt like he might fall over, but he had to do this.

"You," he uttered and his voice came out uneven and a little broken. "You and how I feel about you. In the beginning, I was scared, because I had never felt like this about anyone—not about Quinn, or anyone else. So, yeah, I was scared, probably more scared than I've ever been, so I shoved it away—or I tried to shove it away. I didn't want to feel what I was feeling, because that's not who I'm supposed to be," he paused, then corrected himself. "That's not who they think I'm supposed to be, I mean. But I'm done pushing my feelings away. I can't go on being with her when you're all I think about."

Ian was staring at him, blue eyes wide and glistening. Mickey watched as he parted his lips to form words, but none came, he simply let out a shaky breath. His lips were that pale, fleshy pink nearest the inside of his mouth, but every other part of them were a vibrant shade of rose, as if he had bitten them repeatedly.

Mickey didn't stop himself when he leaned across to place a gentle kiss on those gasped a little as Mickey's mouth closed down over his and then he was kissing him with more passion and Mickey felt what he always felt when he was close to Ian; He felt some kind of blue electricity soaring through his veins and he knew this was right, that everything about Ian was right.

Mickey pressed the palm of his hand down on Ian's shoulder and pushed him gently backwards, but Ian winced and pulled away.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," Mickey breathed. "I—I forgot. Shit. Are you okay?"

Ian was clutching his stomach, his eyes closed. "Yeah," he choked out. "It's not your fault, don't worry."

Mickey cursed himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Ian again. He was about to apologise, but Ian began talking.

"So, you're really leaving her?" he asked, letting go of his stomach. "I mean, have you thought this through?"

Oh, he had thought it through all right, it was all he could think about. Quinn meant nothing to him, it was sad, but true. He could not envision a life with her, he couldn't even envision another week with her. Hell, he didn't care, he'd visit the baby, still be its dad, but that didn't mean he had to be with Quinn.

"Definitely," he confirmed. "Does it make me a bad person if I dump her?"

Ian shook his head and straightened his back a little. "No," he told him. "It just means you're finally coming into yourself. Told you you'd get there," Ian grinned, but Mickey could still tell he was in pain.

Mickey sighed and fell back on the bed. "Still a long way to go," he muttered.

"Yeah," Ian said, looking down at him with those incredible eyes. "But this is a huge step, so I have faith in you."

"Thanks," he murmured. He didn't even have faith in himself. He sat up, then and a couple of minutes of silence passed.

Ian spoke first, "So, uh, what do you want to do?"

Mickey shrugged and said the first thing he could think of. "Wanna watch some TV?"

Ian smiled, all-teeth and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay. What's the last thing you watched?"

Mickey felt his cheeks tinting red and dropped his gaze from Ian's blue eyes. "You'll laugh," he said.

"No, I won't!" Ian protested. Then he was reaching for the remote control and Mickey tried to grab it, but Ian held it close to him. "I'm badly bruised, remember? Tackle me for this and I might break."

Mickey glared at him, but he was smiling. "Fine," he said, moving back to sit with his back against the headboard. "There goes any chance of you ever taking me seriously again."

"What makes you think I ever took you seriously?" Ian quipped, before moving to sit next to Mickey.

It took him a little while and Mickey offered to help, but he declined, said he could do it by himself, so Mickey let him. Finally, he sat up next to him and pointed the remote towards Mickey's widescreen. The screen came to life and Ian pressed the play button and the last episode of Pokémon that Mickey had been watching started to play.

Ian turned to look at him.

"Go ahead, laugh," Mickey urged.

"You," Ian said, smiling, but not laughing. "Are full of surprises."

"I told you that on day one, remember?" Mickey reminded him. "Anyway, you can put whatever you want on, I'm easy."

"That so?" Ian teased and Mickey blushed. "Let's watch this," Ian said, hitting the volume button and the Pokémon theme song got louder.

"We don't have to."

"No, let's. I haven't seen this in forever," Ian said, sitting back with a smile.

Mickey smiled at him and sat back, too, their arms brushing a little. It was hard for Mickey to concentrate on the show with Ian so close by. He could feel his body heat and he had to stop himself from reaching across for his hand, because he didn't want to make it awkward.

Ian would say something about the show every few minutes and Mickey would laugh and agree, but he didn't really know what was going on. It occurred to him then that they had never really done anything like this. Most of their time together had consisted of Mickey complaining and whining about his not-so-perfect life and then sex. This was nice, different, he just wished he wasn't feeling as nervous as he was.

A few minutes later, Ian's hand was over his. He glanced sideways, but Ian was staring straight ahead at the TV. Mickey looked down at their hands and hoped he couldn't feel the small shakes that were erupting through his body.

He wondered briefly what would happen if his dad came home and walked in to find them like this. It couldn't go well. He frowned, then, because thinking about his dad always made him frown. He couldn't help thinking about how his dad would react once he found out he had broken up with Quinn. And there was also the baby issue..

"What's wrong?" Ian asked, knocking him out of his reverie.

Mickey looked up. "Um, nothing," he emitted. "I—nothing. It's cool."

Ian looked less than convinced. His gaze lingered on Mickey for what seemed like a long time, then looked back at the TV. He kept glancing sideways at him, so Mickey tried to look ensconsed in the show.

He lost his composure about five minutes later, because his mind began to drift. He knew there was no way he was going to change his mind about leaving Quinn. He was definitely going to do this. He just wished there weren't consequences, which, again, made him a coward, but he couldn't help it. He was afraid and anxious and he felt like doing something that required a lot of energy, like running, or something, because he had a lot of building tension that he needed to get rid of.

Mickey came back down to earth when he felt a light pressure against the back of his hand. He turned to look at Ian with a quizzical expression.

"You were shaking," Ian apprised him.

"Oh," Mickey said, bewilderment laced in his voice.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Ian enquired and Mickey gave him a nod and a smile.

Within minutes, they were watching the TV in silence again and Ian's fingers were stroking Mickey's hand, sending little volts all along his skin. He swallowed hard and remembered how it had felt to have Ian's fingers on other more intimate areas of his body. He groaned silently, because getting horny now would be a travesty. Ian had been through a lot and they weren't even doing that any more.

Still, he couldn't help remembering the last time they had been together in an intimate way. He remembered how Ian's touch had been so gentle that it made him feel like doing something crazy, because this boy could not be real. He thought about how he had stroked his hair afterwards, how he had smiled down at him, his smile visible in those shining eyes. He remembered how he had made love to him and how his heart had felt beating against his chest and how he had moaned into his mouth and how he had held him and made him feel like he was wanted for more than just his status.

Mickey felt his heart go still for a split second and his body went rigid. Then he was shaking and his stomach was turning and his jaw went slack. He didn't notice Ian muting the TV and turning to look at him with concern in those cyan eyes. He didn't hear him asking if he was okay, because it had finally hit him. He'd already known, of course, but he couldn't ever bring himself to say it, or even give it deep thought, but now..

He felt it then, the warm, slow stream of tears slipping from the corners of his eyes and running down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them. This was the first time he had cried since he was about fourteen and he felt his heart beat speeding up as he remembered he wasn't supposed to cry. However, there was nothing he could do to stop it now, plus, it felt sort of good to finally let it all out.

Nevertheless, there was still something heavy pressing down on his shoulders and he needed to get rid of that.

Ian didn't know what to do. He thought about putting his arms around him, but he was scared that would make things worse.

"Mickey," he said, softly, as Mickey broke into large sobs. "Mickey, shh. What? What is it?"

"I—I just.." he trailed off and buried his head in his hands.

"Okay," Ian said, placing a hand on his back and rubbing small circles over it. "Okay, calm down. Tell me what's wrong."

Mickey looked up at him, through his bright, glistening eyes, tears still spilling from them. Ian remembered what Mickey had said to him when he had cried in front of him. You're one of those people who look really, really pretty when they cry. He hadn't really understood it at first, but now he knew, because despite the sniffling and the tear stained face, Mickey looked beautiful. When he cried, his eyes turned this almost jade green, but somehow, Ian could still see shades of orange and brown and maybe even red. His eyes were red-rimmed and his chest was convulsing a little and his lips were swelled and a brighter red than Ian had ever seen them.

"I'm gay, Ian," Mickey choked out, voice breaking. "I—I'm gay."

Ian felt his own heart speeding up at that and he nodded.

"I know," he said and he moved closer, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach. "I know you are," he whispered and then Mickey was moving towards him and sobbing into the crook of his neck, his arms going gently around him.

It took Ian a few minutes to get used to the pressure against his ribs and then he simply wrapped Mickey up in his arms and stroked his hair back from where it had stuck to his forehead.

"Shh," Ian said, softly. "It's okay, it'll be okay."

"I'm gay," Mickey wept into Ian's neck. "I'm gay."

"I know," Ian told him again. "I know and everything will be okay, I promise."

Mickey had no idea how one moment he had been slobbering into Ian's neck (which smelled really good, by the way), and then the next, he was placing hungry kisses along his jaw until he reached his mouth. He was so scared hurting him, but he just wanted to be close to him.

Fortunately, Ian began tugging Mickey forward and then Ian was flat on his back and Mickey was trying to kiss him without hurting him, but Ian pulled him so that he was on top of him. Mickey saw him flinch a little and he attempted to pull back, but Ian wouldn't let him go.

"I'm okay," he assured him, kissing him once. "If we're just laying like this, I'll be okay."

Mickey wasn't convinced, but Ian pulled him forward again and slipped his tongue through Mickey's teeth. Mickey allowed himself to get deeper into the kiss and then Ian was slipping a knee between his legs and Mickey was moaning into his mouth.

"Ungh," Mickey pulled back a little. "I don't—I don't want to hurt you."

Ian reached up and placed a warm hand on Mickey's cheek. "I'm okay," Ian ensured him. "Honestly, I'm okay."

"It's just that I—"

He stopped talking because Ian's mouth had caught his again and this time he sighed into the kiss, because Ian really did seem okay. He tried not to make too many movements, which was difficult when Ian's was slipping his knee back and forth between Mickey's thighs. Mickey felt Ian's warm finger tips on the patch of skin on his lower back where his shirt had slid up.

"I don't thi—"

"Mickey," Ian whispered against his lips and Mickey's whole body shivered. "It's okay."

Mickey didn't have a chance to protest, because Ian's hands were trailing lower and pressing against his ass. He didn't have it in him to put a stop to it now. Mickey rucked Ian's shirt up around his waist, along with the vest and eased them gently over his head. He stopped still, then and sat back a little.

"Ian," he breathed looking down at the other boy's torso. It was covered in large purplish-red bruises and they stood out even more because of his milky-white skin.

"It looks bad, I know," Ian told him, his hands resting on Mickey's hips. "But it doesn't hurt as much as you'd think."

Mickey couldn't bear it if he hurt him again. He began climbing off of Ian. "Maybe we should st—"

"Mickey," Ian groaned a little. "I don't want to stop."

Mickey stopped moving and looked down at him, his eyes dilated and filled with something Mickey could not place. "Are you sure?"

"More than sure," Ian nodded and he slipped the top button on Mickey's jeans through the little loop.

"Okay," Mickey uttered and eased himself back down, gently, on top of Ian.

Ian sucked Mickey's bottom lip into his mouth, as he unzipped him and pushed his jeans as far down as he could from the angle he was in. Then he was sliding Mickey's shirt upwards and Mickey lifted his arms to help him. Soon, Mickey had removed Ian's pants (after a bit of a struggle—they were just so tight) and Ian was palming Mickey's erection through the thin material of his briefs.

"Ian," Mickey almost hissed. "Ian, how do we.. I don't want to hurt you, I—"

"It'll be okay," Ian whispered against his lips again.

He kissed him and Mickey felt Ian's hands slipping down past the waistband of his underwear and then this fingers were rubbing circles over his ass. Mickey moaned a little when Ian's hands disappeared to push away the briefs. He arched himself up a little to allow him space and then he kicked them off and he was completely naked.

Mickey kissed Ian once more before sliding down Ian's body. He hooked his fingers into the elasticated band at the top and peeled them off revealing his hard cock. Mickey took it in his hands and Ian tried to sit up a little.

"You don't have to move," Mickey said, kissing the inside of Ian's thigh. "Just relax, okay?"

Ian muttered something, but Mickey didn't hear him, he simply lowered his mouth down over Ian's erection and sucked it once. He heard Ian let out a moany gasp. Mickey licked a wet line all along the underside of Ian's cock and then sucked the head into his mouth and Ian was making those sounds again and God, he was gorgeous.

Mickey licked down the side very slowly, sending small whining sounds out of Ian's mouth. Then he lowered his mouth down and stretched his lips around it and sucked on it for a while. Ian's ankles were thrashing a little and Mickey had to place a hand on either of them to keep him from knocking his teeth out.

"Oh, God, Mickey," Ian said, voice raspy.

Mickey pulled his mouth off and Ian moaned at the loss. Mickey raised Ian's hips a little with his hands, carefully, as not to hurt him, then he pulled his legs a little further apart to reveal his opening. Mickey had wanted to do this for the longest time. He took a deep breath, then lowered his lips down to the tight hole and ran his tongue over it once, an experimental taste.

It was strange, not bad, just strange, because he had his tongue on someone else asshole. He did it again and pulled back and Ian was groaning every time he stopped. So, finally, he lowered his mouth back down and kept it there, flicking his tongue over it and then pushing the tip as far through as he could get it.

"Fuck," Ian gasped out.

Mickey removed his mouth and instead, pushed the tip of his finger over Ian's now wet hole. He worked it in, past the first ring of muscle and Ian was wincing a little, because he wasn't nearly stretched open enough. Mickey used his mouth again, then repeated the action with his finger and after a while he was moving three fingers in and out freely and Ian was pushing himself down over them, even though Mickey had told him not to move. He didn't want him to hurt himself.

"Ian, I just don't want to hurt you," he told him, moving up so that he could see his face.

"You won't," Ian said and he pushed himself up into a seated position. Mickey saw him grimace at the pain, but he didn't stay like that for long. He flipped himself over onto his stomach and arched his back so that his ass was a little higher than the rest of him.

"You sure?" Mickey asked, inching himself closer, his erection throbbing at the sight of Ian spread out like that.

"Yeah, come on, I'm fine," Ian said, his head in the pillows.

"Don't make any sudden moves, okay?" he said. "And for God's sake, don't lean on the sprained wrist."

"Fine," Ian sighed, but Mickey could hear him smiling.

Mickey moved closer and wet his hand a little, before rubbing it on his cock a couple of times. He pressed the head of his hard-on to Ian's stretched entrance and then pushed himself slowly inside. Ian groaned into the pillows and Mickey stopped still.

"I'm fine! Keep going!" Ian demanded, voice muffled.

Mickey wasn't sure, but he pushed forward anyway and then stopped when Ian cried out again. He saw Ian's head tilting around to give him a disapproving look. Mickey pushed in the rest of the way and then stopped again to give them both time to get used to the tightness.

"Ready," Ian told him after a while.

Mickey grabbed onto Ian's hips and pulled his own hips back a little. He groaned a little at the sensation, then pushed himself back in, quickly.

"God," Ian muttered.

Mickey repeated that a few times and then Ian was telling him to go faster.

"Stop acting like I'm going to break," he choked out.

Mickey apologised and started to push in and out of him faster, his body clammy with sweat and heat and then Ian was trying to lift his hips and Mickey could tell it was hurting him, so he pushed them back down, gently and Ian moaned a little and Mickey just wanted to listen to him making that sound over and over again.

"Close," Mickey muttered, because he wanted to give Ian a heads up. Ian didn't reply, just made some kind of sound that Mickey couldn't have put a name to.

Mickey felt the familiar tightening in his stomach and began pumping himself in and out harder and faster and Ian's body was shaking with his movements and Mickey just didn't want to hurt him. He tried to make it happen quickly, so that it would be over and Ian wouldn't have to endure the pain. It wasn't long before he was coming inside him and Ian was whimpering and Mickey was crying out and he rode out the orgasm.

He pulled himself out and turned Ian gently. Ian's eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling quickly and he was still sporting an erection. Mickey reached down and pumped his hand back and forth on Ian's cock and Ian was making little 'mm' sounds and soon, he was coming, too, his come covering Mickey's hand and his own chest. Mickey fell down next to him and they stayed like that, just breathing for a long time.

"Are—are you okay?" Mickey managed.

Ian sighed, with exasperation and he eased himself over so that he could kiss Mickey again. "I'm fine," he said, once he had pulled back. "I'm covered in—well. I feel disgusting, but I'm fine."

Mickey chuckled and kissed him again, because he could do that now that he going to finish with Quinn.

"What about you?" Ian asked, then. "Are you okay? I mean, after you kind of came out to me, to yourself?"

"I actually feel so much better," Mickey told him, truthfully. It felt as if a weight had been lifted. He still had a lot going on, but that had helped.

"Good," Ian grinned and then he yawned. "Think i could just stay here tonight?"

"Up to you," Mickey told him.

"I'll go if you want me to—"

"I didn't mean that," Mickey told him. "I just meant—yeah. Yeah, stay. I want you to."

"Sure?"

"Yes," Mickey told him. "I've missed kissing you, talking to you, all that."

"Me, too," Ian smiled, his eyes half-lidded. "I'll call my dad and tell him I'm staying, okay?"

"Okay, I'll go get a towel, or something," Mickey said, pushing himself up off the bed. He threw Ian's phone to him. "You don't even have to move."

Ian snorted. "I leave my own house because I'm getting treated like a dying man and then I come here and you don't let me move."

"Moving," Mickey informed him with a smirk. "Is overrated."

Ian laughed and then clutched his ribs. "You weren't saying that ten minutes ago when you were moving above me."

"You've got a filthy mouth, Ian Gallagher," Mickey quipped back.

"It has its uses," Ian told him as he started dialling his dad's number.

Mickey went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off, then walked back outside and threw a towel at Ian.

"What'd you tell him?"

"That I had sex with you and now I'm exhausted," Ian said, taking the towel and grimacing down at his chest.

Mickey stared at him open-mouthed.

"Oh, relax," Ian said. "I told him we were watching a movie and it won't end until later, so I'm just going to stay. He was fine. Which side do you sleep on?"

Mickey went and took the towel from him. "Um, you can sleep whichever side you want."

"I know, but I'm just curious," Ian informed him.

"Um, the right," Mickey provided.

"Okay," Ian said and he climbed carefully into the bed and lay down on the right hand side. Mickey gave him a bewildered expression. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Mickey shook his head, then went and switched off the light and the TV, then he went and climbed in next to Ian. Ian eased himself onto his side so that they faced one another.

"When are you going to do it?" Ian asked and Mickey knew what he meant.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll talk to her after school."

"And you're sure?" Mickey gave him a look. "Okay, so you're sure," Ian nodded in the light of the moon. "What about us?"

Mickey sighed, because he didn't know. He reached across and grabbed Ian's hand. "Do you remember the day Quinn told me she was pregnant and we had that really angry, emotional sex?"

Ian spluttered. "Quite vividly, actually."

Mickey nodded. "Do you remember before that I told you I love you?"

Ian made no jokes this time, he simply nodded, smile fading.

"I meant it," Mickey informed him. "I do, I love you."

"Okay," Ian said, slowly.

"And I'm going to ask you this because I'm still an idiot," Mickey began. "First of all, do you want to be with me?"

Ian didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

"Okay," Mickey nodded, relief flooding his body. "Okay, good. Look, I'm still afraid, I don't know when I'll ever not be afraid. I don't know if I can face up to everyone and everything and my dad and all that. I don't know how to handle all that, I'm confused and scared and a bunch of other stupid things. So, I'm just going to ask you. Would you be willing to be with me without telling anyone else—"

"Mickey—"

"I'm not done," Mickey said, softly. "If you're not, okay. I'll do it. I'll come out, I'll tell everyone, because I want you, I do. I just—I know it'll be hard. I—it's not fair of me to ask you to do this. No. I'll just come out, screw it."

Ian was quiet for a minute, then spoke. "Don't come out if you're not ready," he said. "I don't want you to come out just because of me."

"It's not right unless I do, Ian."

"You're not ready," Ian told him. "I can tell. I've been there, remember? I get it. And I know what your dad is like, so just.. Just don't. At least not now. Wait until you're ready, wait until the time is right for you. I'll still be here."

"Ian, I don—"

"I refuse to be with you if you come out," Ian said, firmly. "I'm not going to be the thing to force you out when you're not ready, so it's either in secret, or it's nothing."

"Why?"

Ian sighed and inched closer. Mickey could feel his breath on his skin. "You broke down and cried when you told me. Mickey, you've only just come to terms with this yourself. You're not ready, I know you're not, you don't have to pretend with me, remember?"

Mickey nodded a little. He was right, but he didn't want him to commit to this with him if he wanted a full-on, public relationship.

"I'm fine with us just being like this," Ian smiled. "More than fine, actually."

"Ian, is there—"

"Please," Ian said. "I'm asking you not to do this. I don't want to be the reason you felt like you had to come out because of. I don't want you to wind up hating me when you have to deal with all the crap. So, please, just wait a while. Until you're ready."

"I could never hate you," Mickey whispered.

"Let's not find out, okay?" Ian said, pressing a hand to Mickey's chest, just above his heart. "I thought you said you missed kissing me."

"I do."

"Then quit talking and kiss me."

"I said I missed talking to you, too," Mickey pointed out and Ian sighed and then he kissed him and Mickey didn't protest, he just went ahead and kissed him back.

He promised himself then, that some day, he would be brave enough to kiss him in public.