"I can't take you seriously with that thing on," Ian laughed. "Oh my God, Mickey, don't do that! Mick—Ah! Okay! No," Ian chuckled, sitting up. "Mickey, no—I'm just.." Ian reached up and pulled the cheap tiara off Mickey's head.
It was around 7AM (Ian had checked his phone) and the sun was a large ball of light in the pale sky. It was freezing and Ian's breaths came out in small puffs of smoke. It didn't help that he was naked with only Mickey's body heat and a thin layer of blanket that usually covered the back seat of his car, to keep him warm.
Ian was tilted onto his side, his left leg hitched up across the side of Mickey's right thigh and Mickey was slipping his finger in and out of his entrance, which was still a bit sensitive from what they had done the night before. Mickey was breathing into the crook of Ian's neck and grinding his erection a little against Ian's thigh as he fingered him open.
Ian let the tiara go and gave in with a sigh, because Mickey was crooking his fingers in just the right way and it was turning him on to hear him panting against his skin like that. He could feel Mickey's heart beating away against his body and his chest was rising and falling in time with his own. When they were this close, Ian always felt sort of connected to Mickey.
"Mmph," Mickey murmured against Ian's neck, his teeth nipping the skin very gently. "I love having my fingers inside you."
"I know," Ian told him and he tried of laugh, but Mickey reached up with his free hand and pulled his lips down to meet his own. Ian allowed Mickey to kiss him lazily, his tongue slipping through his teeth and finding Ian's, falling into a steady rhythm. Mickey's fingers were still pushing through Ian's opening. They were moving more freely now that he was stretched a little more.
Mickey's left hand was pressed lightly to the side of Ian's pale neck and Ian inched his own hand lower to touch Mickey's hard cock, which was no digging uncomfortably into his stomach. Mickey deepened the kiss when Ian touched him and after only three or four strokes, Mickey was already coming.
"Fuck," Mickey whispered, once he had torn his mouth off Ian's. He pressed his forehead against his and it was warm and sweaty. The movements of Mickey's fingers had slowed a little and Ian found himself needing him to move them quickly again, because he was close after having seen Mickey come so fast just from a few short strokes.
"Mickey," Ian breathed, pressing himself down over Mickey's fingers. Mickey cursed quietly.
"Sorry," he uttered, before speeding his fingers up again. "God, you're perfect."
Ian couldn't reply. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted as he felt the climax building higher and higher and then Mickey's other hand was pumping away on his cock and it was all too much for him to take. The world went white around the edges and his vision blurred as he came hard and fast, with a moan that sounded suspiciously like Mickey's name. Mickey didn't stop his fingers, nor his pumping hand until Ian had come down from the orgasm completely.
Mickey collapsed on top of him and they breathed together for a long time. Mickey's body was cold against Ian's from the waist upwards.
"Field sex," Mickey told him after a while. "Is slowly becoming my favourite kind of sex."
"Field sex is filthy," Ian pointed out.
"Exactly!" Mickey grinned and kissed him a thousand and one times and Ian forgot his own name.
Mickey dropped Ian off at home, because he had told his dad he was staying at Rachel's after the dance. Mickey went back to his house, got changed out of the creased up suit and showered. He got dressed, then went downstairs. His dad wasn't home and his mom was watching re-runs of 'Criminal Minds'. Mickey slipped back out the door and got back in his car and started to drive.
He had pretended with Ian, pretended that he had forgotten about how mad he was at the footballers, but every time he thought back to the awful silence and then the spine tingling laughter, his blood boiled.
Mickey didn't have a plan yet, so he drove aimlessly for a while. Eventually, he found himself at Iggy's house. He sat in his car for at least ten minutes, then opened the door and walked up the pathway. He had done this a million times before, but circumstances were different now.
"Milkovich," Iggy grinned when he opened the door. Mickey ignored the hand he held up in anticipation of a high five and simply walked past him into the entrance hall. "What's going on?"
"We need to have a talk," Mickey informed him.
Iggy shrugged, yawned and then gestured for Mickey to follow him into the living room. They sat facing one another and Iggy hit the TV off. "I know what this is about," he stated, then yawned again.
"Do you," Mickey deadpanned and he didn't even make it a question, because he was pretty sure Iggy had no clue what this was about.
"This is about the thing with Gallagher."
Mickey froze. Okay, maybe he did know. Mickey wondered if Kenny had told him everything. His stomach turned and he felt a little sick and nervous, but he tried to maintain his bored expression, tried to pretend that it was no big deal.
"Look, dude," Iggy said. "Nobody even cared that you were voted in with him. All that people were laughing at was Gallagher, so chill. It won't do anything to screw you up, so chillax."
Oh. Iggy thought he was here to talk about the fact that being voted as prince to Ian's princess would make him look bad. He should have known Iggy would come up with something like that. Mickey sighed.
"Actually, no," he shook his head. "I actually wanted to say that I thought it was a dumb thing to do. And how come no one told me about it?"
"Because you and Gallagher have to meet up for some assignment, right? We didn't want it slipping out."
"You're an asshole, Iggyerman," Mickey told him.
"What the—"
"Seriously, why would you do something like that? I mean, there is nothing even remotely funny about what happened last night. It was low and fucking stupid."
"It was totally funny!" Iggy grinned. "Did you see Gallagher's face? Priceless!"
Mickey stood up then and clenched his fists hard. Iggy gave him this quizzical look, then stood up, too, staring at him like he was frothing at the mouth. Mickey felt as if he could, anyway. Yeah, he had seen Ian's face, he'd held his hand and told him it would be okay. He had wiped his tears and kissed his lips and tried to put him back together after what they had done to him.
"You think making a kid cry is funny?" Mickey asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Uh, yeah," Iggy said, matter-of-factly. "What the hell has gotten into you, Milkovich? Remember that time Lip whatever-his-name-is tripped over his shoe lace and he landed inside that garbage can? He cried and you totally laughed."
"Laughing at someone tripping up is totally different to showing someone up because of their sexuality in front of the entire student body, Iggy!" Mickey snapped. "Actually, maybe it's not that different, but we can't go on doing this forever! Can you not see how fucking ridiculous this is? We act like we rule the school, like nothing can touch us, but we can't go on like that forever. Yeah, there'll always be a social divide, but.. That, last night, went beyond anything we have ever done. How the fuck did you even pull that off?"
Iggy was staring at him, open mouthed. "Um," he said, slowly. "We had Lip set it up. He was in charge of all that. Dude, where is the fire? I don't get why you're so mad about some fag—"
"I'm mad because it's not fair, Iggy!" Mickey apprised him. "I'm mad because everyone at this fucking school thinks everyone is supposed to be a certain way and if they're not, then, what the hell, let's make their lives a misery until we go out into the real world and realise that, hey, not everyone is that certain way we always thought we were supposed to be. Can't you see how pointless doing that to Ian Gallagher was? What can you gain from a thing like that? Ten minutes of laughter and a black eye?"
Iggy gave him a confused look. "A black eye? I don't ha—"
Mickey punched him then, because he was through with this conversation. If Iggy was just going to be an asshole about it, he didn't want to waste any more time standing around arguing with him about it.
Mickey walked past Iggy, who was clutching his face and shooting Mickey this stunned expression. Mickey ignored him and headed upstairs to find Kenny. He didn't stop to knock once he had reached Kenny's room, he simply threw the door open and walked inside. Mickey froze because Kenny was not alone.
"Perfect," Mickey said, with a small smile, once Kenny and Dave had sat up in the bed and were staring at him with wide eyes. "I can kill two birds with one stone. You have ten minutes to get your clothes on and clean yourselves up before I tell the whole town."
"Wow, Karofsky," Mickey said, once he had gone back inside to find Kenny and Karofsky fully dressed and sitting far apart. "You look mortified. Do you want to know who else looked mortified a little less than, oh, I don't know, twelve hours ago?"
"Look, Anderso—"
"I wasn't actually addressing you, Kenneth, please wait your turn," Mickey said, keeping his eyes on Karofsky, who was looking down at his feet. "Ian Gallagher," Mickey provided. "You remember him, don't you, David? The guy you shoved in a dark closet and tried to get his clothes off?"
"I never—" Karofsky protested, but Mickey spoke over him.
"You remember Ian, right, Kenny?" he smiled. "The one you drugged just so that he would go to bed with you?"
They were both silent, even Kenny for once in his life. Mickey folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, looking back and forth between the two of them. Karofsky still looked terrified and Kenny looked far from amused.
"So, let me ask you a straight question—On second thoughts, that won't work will it? Since we're all gay here, after all," he said. "So, tell me. What part of showing a kid up because of his sexuality was funny to you? I mean, Iggy, I can kind of understand, he doesn't know what it's like to be something that the rest of the world deems wrong. You two know exactly how it feels. So, seriously, enlighten me, because I don't understand."
"It wasn't our ide—"
"Whose idea it was is beside the point, Dave," Mickey frowned. "The point is that you went along with it and even laughed at it. So, what's the deal? I mean, I was of the opinion that you sort of liked Ian Gallagher, from what I saw that day in the janitor's closet anyway." Karofsky groaned, angrily. "And from the way you're always hitting on him and sending him inappropriate songs," Mickey looked to Kenny. "I figured you sort of liked him, too. So, I fail to see the connection here, boys."
"It's not about him being gay, you fucking idiot!" Kenny protested, dark eyes wild. "It's about him being a fucking weak little girl! Don't you get it? He acts like a princess, so he was crowned princess! It all fits perfectly!"
"Does it?" Mickey asked, going closer. He needed to calm down or he was going to end up with both Kenny and Karofsky punching the crap out of him. "Do you even know Ian Gallagher? I guess, you don't, actually. I mean, how much can one find out about a guy when they've given them drugs? I wouldn't know, but I'm guessing not much."
Kenny gave him an angry glare. Karofsky looked away, quickly, obviously not wanting Mickey to bring up the closet incident again.
"The thing about Ian Gallagher," Mickey went on. "Is that he might be slight and a little more elegant than the rest of us, but he's so much stronger than all three of us combined. Me and you, Dave, we hide. We act like we're still these big, tough, straight guys, but we're not. We're about as straight as a God damned roundabout. And you," Mickey said, looking back to Kenny. "You hide behind the man-slut image, acting as if all you think about is sex and getting people's clothes off and maybe you do, I don't know, but that can't be all you think about. There has to be a point when you turn all that off and just come home and be yourself."
They were gaping at him, now, looking as if they had no idea where this was going. Mickey wished he had simply punched both of them and then left, but he couldn't. He had a lot to say.
"Ian is completely himself, 24/7," Mickey informed them. "That's what makes him better than us. He doesn't give a shit about what the rest of us think he should be, he just goes ahead and does what he wants. He's not afraid to be who he really is. He's better than us, stronger than us, he's something we could only ever wish to be. So, don't give me that crap about him being a princess, Kenny. Ian Gallagher is someone you both wish you could be like and that's why you're taking this out on him. I wish I could be like him, too, but I can't hate him because he's braver than I am. Hating him and hurting him doesn't make it easier, it won't help you in any way to do that to him. So, you may as well stop now, while you're ahead."
"Please," Kenny scoffed, standing up straight. "You're just saying that because you're fucking him. If Gallagher wasn't putting out, if he wasn't letting you fuck his fine ass, you'd be standing here laughing with the rest of us, Milkovich. You're using him for the sex and he thinks it means something, bless him. Or, hey, maybe he's using you, too! Don't think I don't notice when either one of you is walking funny at school. I know what you've been up to and by the looks of it, Gallagher is a complete cock slut—"
Mickey moved forward and in a flash, he had Kenny pinned roughly to the wall. Mickey's heart was hammering away inside his chest and he was just so mad that he didn't know if he wanted to punch him or scream. He tried to remain calm, because he didn't need to get into a wrestling match with these two.
"You're not even worth it," Mickey snarled, loosening his grip on Kenny. Kenny straightened himself up, breathing heavily.
Mickey turned and looked at Karofsky. "Got anything to add?" Karofsky shook his head. "You know he's only using you, right?" Mickey asked Dave. "He's not getting it anywhere else, so he's using you. I—You know what? Fuck it, you're using each other, obviously. You guys deserve each other. Neither of you are worth hurting my fists over. But if either of you even look at Ian Gallagher again, I'll make an exception."
Mickey gave them a final glare, before turning around and walking out of the room, his entire body shaking with anger.
"I'm going to tell fucking everyone about you, Milkovich!" Kenny shouted after him. "Everyone's gonna know you're screwing pretty boy Gallagher! EVERYONE!"
"So tell them," Mickey shouted back, sounding unscathed. He waited until he was in the privacy of his own car to stop and think about what he had just done. He was screwed. Once everyone found out, his dad would find out and then everything would be gone. Well, except Ian, possibly, though who knew if he would even live long enough to see Ian again if his dad found out about it. Mickey sighed and cursed himself for not listening to Ian, but he did feel a bit better after having had it out with them.
"Screw it," Mickey uttered, as he began his way home.
Maybe everyone finding out was a good thing, in a way. He was tired of pretending, tired of being someone he wasn't. The only problem was that he might not get a chance to live life as the real Mickey Milkovich, because his father was absolutely nuts and very homophobic and if he found out, Mickey didn't even want to contemplate what might happen.
There was nothing he could do about it now.
"I need to see you."
"Um, hi," Ian said into his phone. "Is it all the craze to answer the phone with a random phrase instead of a good old fashioned 'hello'?"
"Sorry," Mickey muttered. "Hi, Ian, it's Mickey, I hope you're well, what fine weather we're having, I need to see you."
Ian sat up a little. Mickey sounded funny. "Um, okay, you're being sardonic," Ian said, slowly. "What's wrong?"
He heard Mickey sighing on the other end. "I'm scared."
Ian's mind started envisioning all these awful scenarios, most of which involving Mickey's dad and his violent nature. He was beyond worried about him. "Why?" he asked, quickly. "Mickey, are you okay?"
"I sort of went round to Iggy's after I took you home."
Ian's heart sank. He wasn't sure what to think. "And?"
"And I had it out with him and then I punched him," Mickey said. "Then I went upstairs to find Kenny—"
"Mickey," Ian groaned, frustrated.
"I know, okay? But I couldn't not say anything!"
"Yes," Ian told him. "You could."
He was flattered that Mickey wanted to protect him, it touched him in a way that he had never been touched before, but he didn't want Mickey to get into trouble over it.
"No, I couldn't," Mickey said. "Anyway, so I went upstairs and found Karofsky in his bed."
"You're kidding!"
"Would I joke about a thing like that?" Mickey asked ad Ian was relieved to her the smile in his voice. "So, I gave them a piece of my mind and then Kenny said he would tell everyone and I told him to do it."
Ian was silent for a few heartbeats. "You didn't."
"I did," Mickey affirmed. "I know I keep telling you I'll do it, that I'll just come out, but when the possibility of it happening is staring me straight in the face, it terrifies me."
"I know," Ian said, softly. "You think he'll really do it?"
"I have no idea," Mickey said. He sounded miserable. "But I just need to see you, okay? Because if he does and my dad finds out, I don't know what's going to happen."
"Don't say tha—"
"It's true, Ian," Mickey uttered. "I just need to see you and show you I love you, because it might be my last chance."
"Mickey," Ian sighed.
"What?"
"Shut the fuck up being so dramatic and weigh your options."
"Options?" Mickey asked, voice laced with bewilderment.
Ian explained to Mickey that he was eighteen years old, that he didn't have to stand for what his father was doing. Of course, he shouldn't have ever had to stand for the abuse and the violence and all of that other stuff, but Mickey considered this to be pretty serious and drastic, so he really needed to do something about it.
"When he confronts you about it, stand your ground," Ian urged. "You can come here, you know. My dad would be fine with it."
"I guess."
"You know he probably won't tell anyone," Ian soothed. "He didn't tell anyone last time and as bad as he is, we all know what it's like to be gay and not wanting anyone to know. My bet is that he won't say anything."
"But how do you know that?" Mickey choked out.
"Because I'm magic," Ian grinned. He heard Mickey laughing then and it gave him a sense of accomplishment.
"I love you, you know that?" Mickey told him. "I don't care if you never say it back, if you never love me, I just want you to know how much I love you."
Ian swallowed hard. "You don't care if I never say I love you back?"
"Okay, I do care," Mickey informed him. "But I don't want you to say it just to make me feel better about it."
"I would never do that."
"I know," Mickey said, happily. "Until you know for sure, I'm just going to keep on telling you I love you."
Ian smiled, because it seemed as if Mickey understood, even if he didn't know every detail behind the reason he hadn't said it back yet.
"I think I might have the perfect boyfriend," Ian chuckled.
"I think I might, too."
"Gallagher?"
"Let me in, Kenny."
Kenny stood back and Ian walked inside, aware of his eyes roving over his back side. Ian turned and faced him, scowling.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Kenny smiled.
"Can we talk in private?"
"Why, Ian Gallagher, are you inviting yourself into my bedroom?" Kenny smirked.
"Do I look like Dave Karofsky?" Ian deadpanned.
Kenny's smirk fell and he sighed and gestured for Ian to follow him upstairs to his room. When they went inside, Ian shuddered, remembering how he had felt that morning when he had believed he and Kenny had..
"So, what's this about?" Kenny asked, sitting down on his bed.
"I need you to not tell anyone about Mickey."
Kenny laughed cruelly, then. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "What's in it for me?"
"Um, you get to pride yourself for being a decent human being for once in your life?" Ian offered, weakly.
"No can do, Gallagher."
"What do you want?"
"You."
"I'm off limits, taken, spoken for, all that," Ian told him and he smiled to himself, because that was true.
Kenny sat up straight and smiled, tilting his head a little, dark eyes studying Ian. Ian shivered, because Kenny was an absolute creep.
"Stop ogling me," Ian demanded. "I don't have anything on you, Kenny and I don't believe in blackmail anyway, so I'm just asking you as one gay guy to another, who knows what it's like to not want anyone to find out your deepest, darkest secret, I'm asking you to not do this to him."
"Why?" Kenny asked, shaking his head. "I don't get it. He's an asshole, he's walking down the halls with his girlfriend by day and screwing you by night. What gives?"
"It's none of your business," Ian muttered.
Kenny stood up, then. "So, I'm making it my business. You tell me and I'll keep quiet about your sordid love affair."
Ian sighed. It was the only way he could get him to keep quiet. But..
"No," Ian shook his head. "No, if I tell you this, I'll have to ask you to keep quiet about that, too."
"Time's a-ticking, Gallagher."
Ian took a deep breath. He didn't have to tell Kenny everything, after all. "Mickey and I are dating, but in secret," he told him. "Quinn knows, but she's agreed to keep quiet."
"Now, why would she do a thing like that?" Kenny enquired. "Unless she has a secret of her own!"
Ian was afraid he would ask that. Quinn's secret was not his to tell. "Um, no," Ian said, slowly. "She's just decided to be a decent human being and not tell the world. You could try that, Kenny. I bet it'd make you feel good inside."
"You know what else could make me feel good?" Kenny tilted an eyebrow and gave Ian a wide smile.
"Karofsky?"
"Screw Karofsky!" Kenny exploded, smile disappearing.
"I thought you already did," Ian stated and Kenny scowled at him. "So, do we have an agreement or not?"
"Oh, I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway, Gallagher," Kenny told him. "But I wouldn't mind a blow job."
"Well, if I see Dave Karofsky on my way home, I'll be sure to send him over. Nice talking to you."
"You went over there?" Mickey yelled and Ian had to hold the phone away from his ear a little bit. "Are you nuts?"
"Possibly," Ian smiled. "But the good news is that he said he wouldn't say anything. We're fine." He heard Mickey groaning. "What now?"
"I was sort of getting myself used to the idea of being outed," Mickey told him. "I mean, yeah, I was still scared, but I'm so fucking tired of hiding. I can't bring myself to do it, so maybe it would have been better for him to do it for me."
"Being outed by someone else is not a good thing, Mickey," Ian frowned.
"I know," he said, quietly. "But don't you think the truth is better than lying all the time?"
Ian sighed again and sat back against his pillows. Mickey just did not understand. He thought he did, but he didn't. "I know you think it'll be okay once you tell the truth, but it won't, Mickey," Ian told him, sadly. "Once you're out, you've got to deal with so much stuff. Trust me, I know. I just think you need to do this in your own time. Nobody else has the right to out you. If you're still terrified, then you're not ready. It's not long ago that you admitted it to yourself, let it sink in properly, then worry about coming out. For now, just try and get through school, okay?"
"When are you going to stop being so sensible and do something completely crazy?" Mickey teased.
"I do something completely crazy almost every day," Ian pointed out.
"Oh, yeah?" Mickey asked. "What's that?"
"You."