Chapter 35:
"This is so depressing," Mickey said, staring out over the familiar field, the light of the moon slipping through the tall trees and highlighting some sections, but Ian and Mickey were standing in the shade, just staring into nothingness. They had been standing there in silence for ten minutes, before Mickey had declared it depressing.
"I can't say I disagree," Ian said, as Mickey dropped to sit down in the grass. Ian sat down next to him, carefully, cringing a bit at the dirt he was about to sit in, but he sat anyway because tomorrow, he was leaving and he wasn't going to let his fear of getting a little dirty ruin their final night together.
Mickey sighed and inched closer, then leaned in and laid his head on Ian's shoulder. "Can we just stay here like this forever?"
Ian chuckled. "What would we do if it rained? And what about skincare?"
Mickey smiled and nudged Ian playfully. "Seriously, though," Mickey said, still smiling. "Couldn't I like, buy a shed and set it down here and just live here for the rest of forever?"
"The rest of forever seems like an awfully long time," Ian told him.
"Unfortunately," Mickey sighed again.
"There's still that idea we talked about last night," Ian pointed out.
Mickey caught his bottom lip between his teeth and said nothing. What they had discussed the previous night was Mickey coming to New York with Ian, but Mickey didn't see how that was going to work out. He guessed he could have gone, but that would mean going out there straight away, because if he waited a long time before joining Ian, chances were Ian would already be caught up in the wonder and awe of the big city. Maybe he would even find someone else, someone more interesting, more attractive and with more talent than Mickey. If he was going to go to New York, he would have to leave with Ian, tomorrow, but he couldn't do that.
"Why not?" Ian had asked and Mickey hadn't been able to give him a straight answer. He didn't know what it was that was keeping him there, or maybe he did, he just had trouble admitting it. As much as he disliked his parents and the situation they had put him in, he felt like he couldn't just leave them without trying again. Maybe he could talk to his mom, help her understand.
But he couldn't bring himself to do that yet. However, he couldn't leave until he knew he had tried and by the time he did that, Ian would be settled in and probably wouldn't even want him there any more. Besides, New York seemed very surreal to him. He couldn't imagine himself out there, amongst the glamour and the big city lights. He needed to get his head around everything before he could make any drastic decisions, which was why he had to decline Ian's proposal that he go with him.
"I guess I can't expect you to come all the way out there for me," Ian said, obviously sensing Mickey's discomfort.
"It's not that," Mickey said, quickly. "If you asked me to go out there with you, I'd go, no questions asked." It was true, if Ian really wanted him there, he would go. Maybe he wouldn't be entirely comfortable with it, but if that was what Ian wanted, he would do it.
It occurred to Mickey then that maybe he needed that, too, for Ian to ask him to go with him, to beg him to go, to tell him that he couldn't possibly go anywhere without him and that he absolutely had to have him with him forever. Which was unfair, because Mickey knew Ian loved him and Ian couldn't know what Mickey wanted unless he told him. Mickey didn't even really know what he wanted himself. He wanted Ian to stay with him, but he would never let him, because this was Ian's dream and he wanted Ian to go out and live it. He wanted to be with Ian, but he couldn't see a way to make that happen that didn't make him feel as if he would be making the wrong decision, for whatever reason.
"I don't think you want me to ask that of you," Ian said, softly, shifting a bit and Mickey sat up so that he could look into those ocean blue eyes. "I know you have your reasons, so I won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with, but.." Ian paused for a moment and Mickey waited for him to go on. "Tell me the reason you don't want to go isn't because you don't love me, or want to be with me."
"Are you crazy?" Mickey asked, incredulously. "That couldn't be further from the truth. I always want to be with you. I just—I don't really know what it is, I just—I can't leave yet. Unless you want it."
"I'm not about to make you leave when something is telling you you need to stay, but—"
"No," Mickey said, before Ian could finish that sentence. "I know what you're going to say and if I don't go with you now, I never will, because once you're out there, everything will have changed and I won't be enough and—"
"You won't be enough?" Ian asked, eyes wide. "Mickey," Ian breathed and then he was pushing Mickey backwards, until he was flat on his back with Ian sitting next to him, but leaning across him, his hands on either side of his arms. Mickey's heart had begun to thump faster in his chest and he looked up at Ian, shadows cast all across his body from the moon and the trees and the stars and he felt his heart aching, because how was he supposed to just let this boy walk out of his life without a fight? "I know you think that going out there is going to turn me into some stranger, but it won't. I'll still be me, the same guy who fell in love with you, even when you were hurting me. If I could love you then, I can love you no matter what."
Mickey just took slow, even breaths, eyes locked on Ian.
"And I know that you're not convinced now," Ian went on, moving a hand to rest against Mickey's left cheek. His touch sent small shivers all down Mickey's spine. That feeling never got old. "But maybe at some point that'll register and you'll be able to do something about it."
"You should kiss me now," Mickey uttered.
Ian smiled and it made Mickey's heart still in his chest for a split second. "I should," he said, then he lowered himself down, the palm of his hand still pressed to Mickey's cheek, then his mouth was about an inch away from Mickey's and he stopped.
"What are—"
"Shh," Ian whispered, then he smiled and pressed his lips to Mickey's.
Mickey reached up to pull him closer, to deepen the kiss, to drink him in and hold on to him and just have him there, close to him, flush against him, like no one else ever had been, but Ian just tilted his head back and looked down at Mickey, with those bright, glistening eyes and shook his head.
Mickey opened his mouth to speak, but Ian spoke first, "If you go too fast, it'll all be over too quickly and I never want it to be over."
Mickey wondered if he was talking about sex, but he had a feeling he wasn't. He didn't say anything, just nodded and then Ian's lips were on his again. Mickey closed his eyes and slipped his arms around Ian's waist, then pulled him down, gently, not rushing, just needing to have him close. Ian hummed against his lips and Mickey slipped his hands under Ian's jacket, then under the soft material of his shirt and pressed the tips of his cool fingers to the small of Ian's smooth back. He felt Ian gasp a little against his lips, but then he settled back into the slow, contrived kiss as Mickey's finger tips placed tiny kisses all along the soft skin of his lower back.
Mickey shuddered when Ian's cold hands slipped under his shirt and pressed against his stomach.
"Sorry," Ian whispered very quietly against Mickey's lips.
"Don't apologise," Mickey smiled up at him and Ian blinked a couple of times, slowly, his lashes thick and dark in the dim light. Mickey raised his head a bit, beckoning Ian's lips to his own. Ian pressed his lips back down over Mickey's and slipped his tongue past his teeth.
Mickey felt Ian's lips tilting into a smile against his own and his fingers were moving upwards, over his ribs and then higher. Mickey hummed when Ian's thumb flicked over his right nipple and then his hands were lingering at the sides of his ribcage and Mickey squeaked a bit. Ian tore his lips away and grinned.
"I forgot you were ticklish," he told him and he moved his fingers again. Mickey jerked away, trying to stifle his laughter.
"You did that on purpose!" Mickey accused, covering his stomach with his arms.
Ian laughed out loud then pushed Mickey back down. Mickey tried to protest, still shielding his body, but Ian just shook his head and his wide grin faded to a smile. Ian caught Mickey's eyes and Mickey knew then that the joke was over and Ian wanted to go back to them just being close to one another. Mickey nodded very slightly and then Ian was sliding his hands under his shirt again, but this time, they slipped under him, to press against his lower back. Mickey took Ian's chin gently in his hand and pulled him down for another kiss, slipping his other hand back to where it had been before, on the small of Ian's back.
Ian kissed him back and Mickey was dizzy. Ian's mouth moving against his own, that familiar smell, his light touch, all sent him reeling, his heart hammering away inside his chest. Ian moved his mouth then and began to kiss his way down Mickey's jaw, only stopping when he reached the side of his neck, near his pulse. Mickey tilted his head to give him more space and then he felt Ian's warm tongue on him. He began to place, short, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and Mickey moaned.
"You okay?" Ian whispered, taking his mouth off of Mickey to speak.
"Will you.."
"Anything you want," Ian told him.
Mickey felt his skin flushing when he said it, "Mark me?"
Ian leaned back to look at him, his eyes soft, but still wild-looking. "If you want," he told Mickey.
"I want," he permitted. "I want to have it there for after you're gone."
"Okay," Ian nodded, then bent his head again, his lips finding Mickey's pulse. Ian kissed him there a few times, then his teeth were nibbling very gently on his skin and Mickey flung his head back, baring his neck completely for Ian.
"Please," Mickey whispered and Ian placed a final butterfly kiss to his neck, before burying his head there. It was a strange thing, to have someone sucking on your neck, but Ian felt amazing. His hot mouth was locked on his soft skin and Mickey just wanted this forever, wanted Ian to just mark him all over and claim him as his own so that everyone knew.
After a long time, Ian raised his head and Mickey opened his eyes and Ian was smiling down at him, his blue eyes a shade darker than they had been before.
"You're beautiful," Ian told him, which was new, because usually it was Mickey telling Ian he was beautiful. Mickey smiled and felt a lump forming in his throat, not for the first time that day. "Are you going to cry?" Ian asked, reaching up to push a stray curl back from Mickey's forehead.
"No," Mickey told him, with a smile, but he wasn't sure that was true.
Ian dropped down and pressed a light kiss to Mickey's forehead, then pulled back again and looked at him. "Let me see the damage," he chuckled and tilted Mickey's chin with his fingers. "Hmm," Ian grinned. "Not bad for a first timer."
"Do you remember the first time we did it here?"
Ian spluttered. "Yes," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I just remember thinking it was so—dirty."
"Oh, admit it, you loved it," Mickey smirked. "Every. Single. Time."
"Never said I didn't," Ian said, dropping his hand to Mickey's shoulder.
"Thought not," Mickey smiled. "That was one of the greatest nights of my life."
"Yeah, you said so the night of your birthday party," Ian informed him.
"I did?" Ian nodded. Mickey shrugged. "I meant it. It was. All of the best nights were with you. And the best days, too."
"Same for me," Ian told him.
"Not for long," Mickey said, smile fading. "Pretty soon your best memories will be memories of things you do in New York." He saw Ian frowning. "I don't mean to sound bitter about that. Sorry."
"It's fine," Ian shook his head and entwined his arms around Mickey's neck. "But seriously, Mickey, regardless of what happens in my life, this—us— will always be special to me. I love you, remember? That doesn't just go away over night."
Mickey nodded and sighed. He reached up and pulled Ian down for another kiss. They kissed, slowly and for a long time, until they had to come up for air. Mickey's head was misty and his heart felt huge in his chest. All he wanted to do was reach up and pull Ian down to him, clasp him in a tight embrace and never let go.
Mickey did reach up and pull Ian down, he held him close and wrapped him up in his arms and they stayed there talking quietly for a long time, but in the end, Mickey still had to let go.
They climbed to their feet and Ian reached across for Mickey's hand.
"I'm going to miss this place," Ian said, looking out over the darkness.
"I'm not going to come back here without you," Mickey decided.
"What?" Ian asked, turning to look at him. "Why not? You used to come here without me before."
"Yeah," Mickey shrugged one shoulder. "But you don't miss something you never had and now that I've had you and that I've spent so much time with you here, I can never go back to not knowing what it's like to have you here with me, you know?"
Ian stared at him with those bright blue eyes for a couple of heart beats, then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I get it."
"You know what we should do?"
"What?"
Mickey grinned and began tugging Ian towards the dark trees.
"Oh, no," Ian said, stopping still. "There is no way you're getting me in there. There is bound to be wild animals and bugs and—and filth and—"
"Come on, Ian!" Mickey smiled, tugging lightly on Ian's hand. "Trust me."
Ian sighed. "Fine," he said. "I must really love you a whole lot."
"You do," Mickey grinned and lead Ian into the darkness. He stopped by a tall oak tree and reached inside his pocket for his phone. "Hold this," he said, handing the phone to Ian, the soft glow of the phone a little shocking to his eyes. Ian held up the phone as Mickey produced a key from his pocket.
"What are you—oh," Ian said, watching as Mickey leaned into the tree and started to carve into the thick bark. "This is vandalism."
"Live a little," Mickey smiled, glancing across at Ian. He dragged the sharp end of the key down making the letter 'B'. He continued to carve into the wood until he was done. He stood back to admire his handy work, his eyes roving over the crooked letters inside the crooked heart shape in the light of the phone.
Mickey
and
Ian
"You're a cheesy, little romantic," Ian smiled, grabbing Mickey's hand again.
"Oh, the 'little' jokes never get old, Gallagher," Mickey grinned, slipping the key back in is pocket. "How long do you think this will be here?"
"Hopefully forever," Ian said, a little dreamily.
Mickey frowned a bit then, because maybe the carving would be there forever, but they wouldn't last forever. They stood there staring at it for another while, then Ian gave Mickey's hand a light squeeze.
"We should get home," he said.
"I guess," Mickey nodded. "Kiss me one more time in our field. Just once more."
Ian smiled and moved to stand in front of Mickey, then he tugged him forward and crushed their mouths together and this time, the kiss was anything but slow and careful. Instead, it was frantic, needy, filled with yearning and passion and want and Mickey just needed to take Ian home and make the most of their final night together.
"I love you," Ian breathed, once they had torn their mouths apart.
"And I love you," Mickey replied, his fingers clasped with Ian's. "I love you so much it hurts."
And it was true, it really and truly did hurt.
"Mickey," Ian shook his head. "That is a terrible show, we are not watching that." Ian made a grab for the TV remote, but Mickey held it away from him.
"I happen to like this show," Mickey quipped back, holding the remote up in the air, even though Ian was taller than him and could easily have reached it if he really wanted to.
"That's because your taste is in your ass," Ian told him.
"Does that include my taste in men?"
Ian glared at him. "No," he said, finally. "Your taste in men is flawless, but your taste in television is tragic."
"God, fine," Mickey smiled and dropped the remote down into Ian's lap, before flinging himself back on the couch, his body leaning on Ian's side. "Why are we even watching TV when we could go downstairs and—"
"Hi, dad," Ian said, loudly over Mickey, because Mickey couldn't see the door from the angle he was sitting in. Frank walked in the door, holding a mug.
"Oh, hey, guys," Frank said and Mickey pushed himself up. "Didn't know you were home. I was just gonna.." Frank gestured towards the TV. "But watch whatever you were watching, I can go—"
"Actually, dad, we weren't watching anything, just browsing," Ian told him, then he elbowed Mickey. "We'll go to my room and leave you to watch.. whatever you were about to watch."
Frank raised an eyebrow, looking from Ian to Mickey, then back to Ian.
"Dad," Ian groaned. "We're just going to hang out, okay? This is my last night here, can't I at least spend time with the guy I love without you thinking we're going to—to do that?"
Frank gave a Gallic shrug. "I didn't say a word."
Mickey spluttered a bit and Ian gave him a sideways scowl. "What?" Mickey asked. "He's right, he didn't say anything!"
"Whose side are you on?"
"There are no sides, Ian," Frank chuckled and sat down in his arm chair. "Now go downstairs, unless you want to stay and watch football."
Ian turned around instantly and gave Mickey a gentle push towards the stairs to his room. Mickey tried to protest, but Ian rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm, then tugged him down the stairs after him. Once inside, Ian shut the door.
"Do you think he'll come check on us?" Mickey asked.
"He hasn't come down the past two nights, has he?"
"No," Mickey concluded. "So.."
"What?" Ian smirked.
"Nothing."
"Would that nothing have anything to do with farewell sex?" Ian enquired.
"Farewell sex," Mickey scoffed. "You're something else, do you know that?"
"I am aware," Ian smiled and went closer. He saw Mickey swallow hard when he reached out and tugged him forward by the round neck of his t-shirt. Mickey allowed Ian to push him down onto the bed, his hands trailing down his body until they rested on either side of his hips. "I'm just going to take your clothes off, okay? It'll save time."
"Yeah, whatever you want," Mickey breathed. "Wh-what about yours?"
Ian raised a thin brow, then stood back. In one swift movement, his shirt was over his head and he threw it across the room. It landed on a chair. Mickey's mouth hung open as Ian shrugged out of his pants, then slid his briefs off.
"Y-you just—"
"Your turn," Ian smiled, mischievously.
Mickey cried out as Ian's hand moved back and forth on his erection, almost frantically. He wasn't going to last if Ian continued to do this to him and he wanted to last. He wanted this night to last forever, because after this it was all over.
"Ian," he exhaled. "Please, Ian. I—I can't—"
"What do you want?" Ian asked, his blue eyes wild and bright.
Mickey couldn't think, his mind was clouded and the world was a blur. "Um," he paused. "Will-will you top?"
Ian raised an eyebrow again. It had been a long time since Ian had topped. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Mickey nodded. "I want to feel you for the next few days and I want you to be able to walk tomorrow, so yeah, definitely sure."
"It.. It's been a while," Ian said, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he asked again.
"Unless you don't want to."
"I want to."
"Good," Mickey said and he pushed himself up and reached over to grab the small tube of lube Ian kept in his side drawer. "Here you go, pretty boy, work your magic."
"My magic," Ian chuckled as he popped the cap open. He squeezed a blob onto his fingers, rubbed them together, then bent forward, his hand trailing down to find Mickey's opening. "Stop squirming," he said, once he had pressed a cool finger to his body.
After a few minutes of simply flicking his fingers across Mickey's entrance, Ian slipped a finger inside, slowly. Mickey winced at the intrusion, but insisted Ian keep going, so he did.
"Ian," Mickey managed after a while. "Ian, if you don't st-stop I won't—I can't, Ian—"
"Okay," Ian said, slowing his fingers. "Okay, relax."
Mickey groaned in frustration as Ian removed his fingers completely. Ian shushed him as he got himself ready. He moved up onto his knees and angled Mickey's legs around him.
"I bet you wish you hadn't insisted on topping all those times now," Ian smirked, placing a hand on Mickey's thigh.
"No," Mickey said, opening his golden eyes all the way to look up at Ian. "N-no regrets," he told him, breathing shaky. "Everything's worth it with you," he uttered. "Always worth it."
"I can stop," Ian looked down a t him as he winced beneath him. "If you need me to."
"Don't," Mickey said, quickly. "Don't you dare, Ian Gallagher, or—or I'll—"
"You'll what?" Ian grinned, quickening his thrusts. "What are you going to do, Mickey?"
Mickey swallowed and closed his eyes, Ian still smiling at him. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth in order to stop the whine from escaping his lips.
"Lie back and take it," Mickey replied, finally, his body pulsing with pain and pleasure and dizziness.
"Good," Ian hummed and moved his hips forward in a rhythm, pushing in and out of Mickey, quickly, his hands on either side of Mickey's body.
After that, Mickey couldn't form coherent words, he simply lay there and met Ian's thrusts with his own, their bodies moving together in a steady rhythm. Mickey's heart was hammering away inside his chest, so hard that he thought it might burst from its confines and all he wanted to do was pull Ian to him and grip on to him forever.
As if he could read Mickey's mind, Ian pulled Mickey into his arms, slowing his thrusts for a moment, but not stopping. He bent so that they were wrapped around each other, their chests pressed together, hearts beating fast. Mickey moaned a little, his emotions whirling. He couldn't tell if the small sobs escaping his lips were because of the sensation of Ian slipping in and out of him, or because of everything he was feeling, what with Ian leaving and the way his life was going. He thought it might have been a combination of everything.
He whimpered when Ian reached down and took his throbbing erection in his hand and began to match the thrusts of his hand with the thrusts of his hips and Mickey's eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn't any more, couldn't stop the loud cries from slipping out of his mouth. Ian smiled a little and bent to catch Mickey's lips with his own, probably to stifle the sounds, because after all, his dad was upstairs.
But Mickey was lost and he needed to just let himself go. He tore his mouth off Ian's and Ian tried to quieten him down. He pressed his mouth against Mickey's again, but Mickey only sucked Ian's bottom lip into his mouth. Ian chuckled a little, then his smile faded as he came closer and closer and Mickey knew he would come soon, he could see it in his half-lidded blue eyes. His thrusts were coming faster now and his hand was moving quickly and Mickey felt light headed as he came hard and fast under Ian's touch. He didn't have time to compose himself, because then Ian's hips were stuttering forward and he was coming, too, inside Mickey and they both moaned as Ian collapsed on top of him.
They stayed like that, just breathing for a long time, then Ian twisted his neck, so that his bright, cyan eyes were in line with Mickey's hazel ones.
"Are you okay?" Ian whispered.
"I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life."
Their hands were clasped together as they lay there in the dark, slivers of light slipping through the small, rectangular windows at the top of the left wall.
"I'm going to call you every day, you know," Ian told him.
"I won't pick up."
"Rude," Ian said and Mickey could hear him smiling. "Why not?"
"Because it's easier that way," Mickey told him.
"No, it's not," Ian said. "How is not talking to one another easier?"
"It just is," Mickey told him. "I can't imagine hearing from you every day and not getting to be with you."
"Well, I can't imagine not hearing from you every day," Ian shot back.
"Fair point," Mickey said, quietly. "I still won't pick up, though."
"What if I really, really need to talk to you?"
"Then you text me beforehand telling me of your dire need to converse with me," Mickey smiled. "And then and only then will I pick up when you call."
"So, what's your plan?" Ian asked, twisting his fingers in Mickey's hand. "After I leave you're just going to act like I never existed?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I don't think I'm being ridiculous," Ian told him. "I mean, I understand why you think it's a bad idea for us to go on talking and stuff, because it will be hard, but are you going to just act like we never happened?"
Mickey rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have nothing but you on my mind for every second of the foreseeable future," Mickey said. "So, no, I'm not going to just at like we never happened."
"Okay."
Silence.
"I'm sorry," Mickey said, dropping on to his side, to face Ian. "I'm not mad, or anything. I'm just scared of everything. I don't know what to do."
"It's okay, babe," Ian said, turning to face him, too. He pushed himself up close, so that his arms were around is waist. "I'm scared, too."
"Don't be," Mickey smiled. "Everything will be fine. You'll love it out there. It's what you were born to do."
"What about you?" Ian asked, quietly. "What are you going to do? What were you born to do?"
"I," Mickey smiled, looping his arms around Ian's neck. "Was born to love you."
Ian chuckled and pressed a butterfly kiss to his lips. Mickey smiled and breathed him in, because this was it for real, this was the final night and he couldn't bring himself to ruin it with the threatening tears prickling at his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to make this a horrible night, filled with sadness and moping around. He needed to make this night good, memorable, perfect.
"Promise me you'll call me if you need to," Ian said. "I mean it, Mickey, if you need me, you pick up a phone and call me. If my dad tells me that—"
"I'll call you if I need you," Mickey assured him. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Ian said, flatly. "Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?"
"When you said you'd love me every day for the rest of your life," Ian provided. "Did you mean that?"
"Absolutely," Mickey said, not missing a beat.
"I'll love y—"
"Don't tell me that," Mickey said. "I can't hear that and then watch you go. It's selfish and unfair of me not to let you say it, but I'm sorry, I just can't hear it."
"Tough," Ian said, tightening his grip on Mickey's waist. "I'll never not love you. No matter what."
"Okay," Mickey exhaled. "You should sleep now."
"I don't want to," Ian said, but he yawned, then.
"Yes, you do," Mickey smiled. "Come on, sleep. I'll still be here in the morning."
"Promise?"
"What, that I'll still be here in the morning?"
"No," Ian said. "That you'll never stop loving me."
"Oh," Mickey said. "Yeah, I promise. I swear it on anything."
"Good," Ian said and he yawned again. "I love you, Mickey."
"I love you, too," Mickey told him, placing a small kiss to the tip of Ian's nose. "I love you."
Then Ian moved in and laid his head in that space between Mickey's neck and shoulder and Mickey held him closer and they fell asleep like that, listening to one another's breathing and the sound of their hearts beating, just holding on to each other, for the very, very last time.
"Yes, dad, I have everything," Ian smiled, rolling his eyes a bit. He looked across at Carole and Finn sitting on the couch. Finn was watching the TV, while Carole smiled and looked teary-eyed.
"I can't believe you boys are going to college all ready," she said. Finn was going to New York, too, with Rachel, so he and Ian were going together, because their parents were dating. Rachel was going with her dads.
"Time flies," Frank smiled, sitting down next to Carole. "You guys had better get going."
"Yeah," Finn said, standing up. "I'll put your things in the car, okay, dude?" he said, looking at Ian.
"Thanks, Finn," Ian smiled, then looked at his dad. "I'm just going to go talk to Mickey for a minute, okay?"
"Sure thing, kiddo," Frank smiled, back and Ian turned around and headed downstairs, where Mickey was in his room, making sure he wasn't forgetting anything.
He pushed the door open and saw Mickey sitting on the bed, staring at his hands in his lap.
"You okay?"
Mickey looked up quickly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, fine."
"We've gotta get going in a few," he told Mickey.
"I know," Mickey said, then patted the bed next to him. Ian went and sat down. "I'm going to miss you like you wouldn't even believe," he told Ian. "Seriously."
"I'm going to miss you, too," Ian nodded. "I'm going to miss you every second of every day."
Mickey sighed and moved forward for a kiss. Ian kissed him back, entwining his arms around his neck as Mickey's arms encircled his waist. Mickey murmured against his lips and Ian deepened the kiss, not worrying about going slow and making it last any more. He needed to be as close to Mickey as possible, to hold him so close that one body couldn't be deciphered from the other.
Eventually, the broke away for air. "I owe you everything, you know that, don't you?" Mickey smiled up at him, his voice breaking a bit. His eyes were glistening and Ian knew he was trying his best not to cry. "You saved me from myself. You made me see that everything I thought I was was a lie, that everything about my life was fake and ridiculous. You made me fall in love with you and you made me a better person."
"You would have gotten there by yourself," Ian smiled. "You know, eventually."
"Yeah, when it was too late," Mickey said. "I just want you to know how much that means to me—how much you mean to me."
Ian nodded, smiling, unable to stop the tears from trickling out of his eyes and down his face.
"I don't want you to worry about me out there," Mickey went on. "I mean, I know you can't help worrying, but I just want you to concentrate on you. I'll be okay, I will."
"Are you sure?" Ian asked, sounding choked. "Because if you're not—"
"I'm sure," Mickey nodded. "I'll find myself. I'll be okay."
"Good," Ian said, exhaling. "I want you to be okay."
"Guess this is it," Mickey uttered. "You'd better get going."
"Will you come upstairs?"
Mickey looked unsure. "I don't—"
"Please, Mickey?" Ian pleaded. "I want yours to be the last face I see before I leave this damned place."
"Okay," Mickey nodded.
Ian reached down and took Mickey's wrist in his hands. He lifted it up and pushed back his sleeve, revealing the bracelet. He held his own wrist up, too. "What about these?"
"I'll never take mine off," Mickey said. "If you want to, that's okay, I'll unders—"
"Never taking it off," Ian ensured him. "Not ever."
Mickey smiled and it made Ian's heart contract a bit. He saw a single tear slip out of Mickey's eye then. "I said I wouldn't do this," Mickey uttered, wiping at his eyes.
"It's okay if you do," Ian said. "I won't mind."
"I don't want you to feel bad about going."
"I'll feel bad whether you cry or not."
"Are you nervous?" Mickey smiled, grabbing Ian's hand.
"Really nervous," Ian answered.
"Don't be," Mickey grinned. "You're going to be amazing. This is the beginning. You're going to make it huge."
"I'll try my best," Ian smiled, tears still falling.
Mickey reached up and caught them with his thumb. "I have faith in you," he told him. "You're amazing."
"So are you," Ian replied. "You'll call me if you need me, right?"
"I said I would."
"Just making sure," Ian said.
"This is it," Mickey said, then. "This is goodbye, for real."
"Mickey—"
Ian didn't get to finish his sentence, because Mickey was kissing him again, gently this time, his mouth moving slowly, taking Ian's breath away, making his heart race in his chest, wildly, his body quivering a little. He pulled back then and Mickey's face was tear stained and they didn't say another word. Mickey gave him a small nod, then stood up and outstretched a hand to him.
Ian took it and they went upstairs.
"Promise me you'll watch him," Ian whispered in Frank's ear while he hugged him goodbye.
"You know I will," Frank whispered back.
They broke apart and Ian sniffed a bit, wiping away his tears.
"You call me when you get there," Frank said, giving Ian a pat on the back.
"I will, dad," Ian told him.
"You, too, Finn," Carole said to Finn, who was standing by the door.
"I'll make sure he does," Ian assured her, then he turned to look at Mickey. He smiled. "Come here, you," Ian said and he went closer to him.
Mickey wasn't really smiling, nor was he really frowning, he just looked sort of neutral standing there. Ian pulled him into a hug and he heard Mickey sighing against his body. He stopped trying not to cry then and just let the tears flow freely. He thought Mickey might be crying, too, because he was shaking a little in his arms.
"We'll never really be through, you know that, don't you?" Ian asked, quietly.
"I like to think that's true," Mickey answered, tightening his grip on Ian, like he didn't want to let go.
"It is true," Ian told him.
"I love you, pretty boy," Mickey whispered, very quietly into his ear.
"I love you, too," Ian whispered back. "I always will."
"Me, too," Mickey said. "You have to let me go, Ian."
"I can't."
"You have to," Mickey said. "Let go, baby."
Ian sobbed in his arms as Mickey pulled gently away. "Go on, get out of here," he said, smiling, but Ian could tell he was just trying not to break. He held onto his hand for another few moments.
"Don't forget," Mickey said, quietly.
"Never," Ian told him, his heart twisting in his chest.
Then he let go.
Mickey watched as the car pulled out of the driveway, Ian's bright blue eyes, watery and glistening, still staring at him as it went. Mickey stood next to Frank and Carole and watched Ian go, watched as the car got smaller and smaller and the boy with the bright blue eyes that meant more to him than anything else in the world, got farther and farther away. The car disappeared into the distance and so did the boy, and it wasn't until Mickey went back to Ian's room and buried his head in the pillows, breathing in his scent, his heart aching painfully in his chest, that he allowed himself to really and truly cry, because he would never get to hold him ever again and nothing else in the whole entire world could have hurt more.
That was it, now. He had nothing left.
Mickey was completely and utterly alone.