The next morning, Ian woke to find himself wrapped comfortably in Mickey's arms with his cheek pressed warmly against Mickey's chest. He smiled softly to himself, thinking it was a much better way to wake up than he had any other day for the past week and a half.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, not wanting to move a muscle, afraid he'd wake Mickey and scare him away. He wanted to savor it for a bit longer before the other shoe inevitably dropped again. He curled his fingers against Mickey's chest and concentrated on the steady beating of Mickey's heart as he teetered on the edge of sleep.

"You awake?" Mickey asked, his voice husky.

Ian's eyes flew open. He couldn't suppress his grin, embarrassingly giddy to find that Mickey had been awake all along. He seemed perfectly fine with Ian in his arms, with their legs entwined, maybe even cool with Ian's drool on his chest. He lifted his head and gazed into Mickey's sleepy eyes, his grin still wide. He couldn't help it.

"Morning."

Mickey stared back at him, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Hey," he said. He began feathering his fingertips over Ian's bare shoulder. "So, on a scale from one to ten, how fuckin' gay is all this?"

Ian pretended to think it over with narrowed eyes. "Cuddling? Mm, that's pretty gay. Prob'ly a nine, at least."

Mickey chuckled right before Ian leaned up and silenced him with a kiss. "Ey, at least brush your fuckin' teeth before you attack me," he teased when Ian pulled back.

Ian playfully licked at Mickey's lips and snickered when Mickey made a face, pretending it disgusted him. He kissed Mickey's cheek before dropping a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"The fuck's gotten into you this morning?" Mickey murmured, his tone affectionate.

"Sorry, can't help it," Ian said as he peppered Mickey's face with sweet kisses. "I like your face."

When Ian pulled back to glance down at him, Mickey swallowed thickly before saying, "Yeah?" On Ian's nod, he muttered, "I like your face too."

Ian smiled and moved to Mickey's mouth for a deeper kiss. In one swift motion, Mickey turned them so that Ian was on his back.

Mickey deepened their kiss as he playfully slid his hands down Ian's sides, finding his wrists. He brought Ian's arms up and pinned his hands to the mattress as he swung his leg to mount him.

"Not so shy anymore, huh?" Ian teased.

Mickey stared down at Ian as he straddled him. He could already feel his cock responding, thinking Ian looked so fucking good beneath him, all flushed and dazed and sleepy-eyed.

Ian arched his back as Mickey slowly began grinding against him. They were both wearing cotton boxers, but the friction felt incredible. "Fuck, Mickey."

"I can't help myself around you," Mickey breathed as he continued sliding against Ian while still pinning him to the mattress. "Trust me, I fuckin' tried." He leaned down and captured Ian's bottom lip in his mouth, tugging it playfully with his teeth.

Ian was gasping and sputtering as Mickey continued his slow, languid thrusts. "I could definitely get used to this more uninhibited version of you."

Mickey kissed his way to Ian's ear and whispered hotly, "How does that feel?"

"It feels fuckin' incredible," Ian choked, his teasing mood completely out the window. He knew he sounded like a blubbering idiot, but he didn't fucking care.

Mickey bit his lower lip and stifled a moan of his own. He didn't know what had gotten into him; all he knew was that he was hot for Ian Gallagher, and he was over being shy about it. He felt fucking ridiculous doing and saying those things to Ian, but with the sounds that Ian was making and the faces he was pulling, Mickey didn't give a flying fuck.

"Touch me, Mickey," Ian begged.

Mickey moved off Ian and relaxed on his side. Tentatively, he ran his fingertips over Ian's chest and chiseled stomach before moving even lower. He watched Ian's face the whole time, enthralled by him; the way his lips parted, the look of his flushed cheeks, the beads of sweat forming along his hairline.

"How's that?" he asked as he slowly rubbed Ian through his boxers.

"Good," Ian choked out as he arched his back.

Never once looking away from Ian's flushed face, Mickey removed Ian's cock from his boxers and stroked him, much like he would jerk his own dick. He liked that he was the one making Ian feel like that.

Ian opened his eyes and stared at him dazedly. He reached forward, grabbing Mickey by the back of the neck and pulling him in for a searing kiss, his teeth tugging and nipping at Mickey's lips.

Mickey moaned inside Ian's mouth as he continued stroking his dick, wanting to bring him over that edge; bringing Ian Gallagher to orgasm was officially his favorite thing to do, he decided.

"Fuck, Mickey," Ian groaned as he came all over Mickey's hand after a few dozen skillful strokes. He panted, trembled, and clung to Mickey, digging his fingers into Mickey's bicep as he caught his breath before glancing sheepishly at him. "You are way too good at that."

Mickey cracked a smile as he wiped his hand on the scratchy comforter. "I've had a lot of practice on myself over the years," he said before dropping his head and cursing under his breath for sounding so fucking lame. To his chagrin, Ian Gallagher had the uncanny ability to bring out his lameness.

Ian laughed and pulled Mickey flush against his chest before wrapping his arms around him, loving the way Mickey felt in his arms. "This too corny for you?"

"Nah, it's cool," Mickey murmured against Ian's skin.

Ian smiled and pressed a kiss against Mickey's hair. After a while, his smile faded as the doubts began seeping in. He didn't want to think about any of it, but with Mickey lying in his arms, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about how everything would inevitably change once they got home. He wasn't naïve enough to believe they could be a couple back home; if that was even what Mickey wanted. Hell, who knew, maybe it was all a fling to Mickey; something to pass the time until they went back to good old Canaryville.

The doubts, fears, and pessimistic thoughts muddling Ian's mind completely deflated his mood. After a few beats, he motioned for Mickey to get up.

"The fuck?" Mickey asked. "What's wrong?"

"I gotta piss," Ian grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom.

Mickey watched after him, frowning at the sudden shift in his mood. He crawled off the bed and followed Ian into the bathroom. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "The fuck's wrong with you?"

Ian finished his business and went about washing his hands. "Nothing," he retorted. "Can't a guy take a piss?"

"Hey," Mickey said, stepping farther into the bathroom and gripping Ian's shoulder to turn him. "Talk to me."

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" Ian snapped. "I figured this was how you'd want it? We'd fool around for a while and then move on, act as if nothing happened? Isn't that what you wanted?"

Mickey dropped his hand away from Ian's shoulder and took a step back, feeling his irritation bristling. "Really, we're back to that, huh?"

Ian dried his hands and turned to Mickey with a resigned sigh. "Look, Mickey, this is fun and all, but you said it yourself, we're not here for this. We both know, once we get back home, it's gonna end. I'm just—"

Mickey watched as Ian paused, his eyes darting everywhere but at him. His brows knitted together as he impatiently waited for Ian to continue. "You're just what?"

"I'm already in too deep and…" Ian continued, his tone disheartened. "I'm just tryin' to limit the fallout."

"The fuck's that even mean?"

Ian eventually looked at Mickey as his shoulders sagged. "Never mind, forget it." He tried to walk around him, but Mickey wasn't having it.

"I don't think so, Gallagher," Mickey said, placing a hand to Ian's chest and stopping him. "For the past two fuckin' weeks, I've tried to get your ass to shut up, you're not shuttin' up on me now."

"Oh, so because it's you that suddenly wants to talk, I have to talk?" Ian snapped. "Fuck that."

"Say what you want, but you're not leavin' this fuckin' bathroom 'til you talk to me."

"Drop it, Mickey."

"I'm not fuckin' droppin' it."

Ian scoffed. "Well then, I guess we'll be standin' here all night."

Mickey said nothing, only raised his brows and stood his ground.

"I'm fallin' for you, alright?" Ian admitted when he realized Mickey wasn't budging. "I'm in too deep as it is. I don't wanna go home in a few days and… I'm not fuckin' stupid. I know what's gonna happen." He swallowed hard before adding, "I know you and me can't happen."

Mickey removed his hand from Ian's chest, those words knocking the wind out of him.

Ian stared back at him, his eyes brimming with tears. He ran a hand through his hair before turning to the side, wishing he could take the words back. "Shit."

Mickey dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing how to process any of it. Finally, he said, "I don't know what you want me to say here, Gallagher."

"I'm not expectin' you to say anything," Ian said, his voice shaking.

"I never expected any of this to happen," Mickey continued after a beat. "Never expected you to happen. I just…"

Ian nodded his head curtly and wiped at the corner of his eye, refusing to cry. "I don't expect you to feel the same. I know you don't feel the same. I just want you to be honest with me." He waited for Mickey's hesitant nod. "Nothing can happen between us when we get home, right?"

Mickey avoided Ian's eyes. He rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, wanting to say so much, but knowing he couldn't. "I won't be able to give you what you want. It's impossible. It's just not how my life is."

"Yeah," Ian murmured. "Yeah, I know."

Mickey let out an unsteady breath as he continued to rub his lip.

"So, what do we do here?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Mickey said, suddenly in desperate need of a cigarette. He turned and left the bathroom, reaching for his cigarettes on the dresser and lighting one with an unsteady hand.

Ian stood in the bathroom's doorway, watching him and waiting.

"Should we stop or what?" Mickey asked, turning to face Ian head-on. "What d'you want?"

"I don't wanna stop," Ian said after a beat.

"It's either we stop right now before things get worse, or we continue whatever the fuck this is for a few more days, and then go home."

"Go home and pretend we don't matter to each other?" Ian asked, sounding hurt.

"Christ, Ian. The fuck do you want me to say?" Mickey snapped. "Help me out here!"

Ian ran a hand over his head and let out a shaky exhale as he glanced towards the window, his face showing his conflicted emotions. "I don't know," he eventually said. "All I know is that… If all I can have with you is a few more nights, then I'll take it."

Mickey stared at him, his chest tightening, wanting to tell Ian that he felt the same way about him, but he couldn't. Ian was right; once they were back home, there was no way they could ever be together. It wasn't possible in his fucked-up, miserable life. Not with his homophobic father and brothers around, not while living in that dangerous neighborhood. It wasn't something he'd ever considered for himself because it was fucking impossible.

Love had no place in his life.

Ian ran a hand over his face and sniffed back tears before looking at him. "So, we have a few more nights together until we go back?"

Mickey nodded curtly, his brows lifting and jaw shifting. "Yeah."

"Then I guess that's how it has to be," Ian muttered.

"Hey." Mickey took a few steps towards Ian but stopped before reaching him. "Look, I'd give you more if I could," he admitted; it was the only thing he could admit right then. "It's just… I can't."

"Right, yeah, I know," Ian said, hanging and shaking his head.

Mickey closed the gap between them and grabbed Ian's hand, pulling Ian against him. "We can stretch this out a little longer after we get all the money. We can stay a few extra nights."

Ian nodded, knowing that would never be enough for him, but it was all they would ever get.

"Okay? Alright?" Mickey said, hooking a finger under Ian's chin to bring their eyes together. "Let's take advantage of the time we have."

"Yeah, okay," Ian said, forcing a gentle smile before leaning in and hugging him, the smile slipping off his face when he propped his chin on Mickey's shoulder.