Chapter 10:

"I'll just add in your comment about the pedestal of infamy and then we're done with the final assignment until after the New Year," Mickey beamed at Ian from across their usual corner table in the romance section of the library. He grabbed a pen and scribbled the comment down and it was fully complete.

Ian smiled. "Yep," he said. "You won't have to see me outside school for the rest of the year!"

Mickey frowned. It was December now and he and Ian had been growing closer and Mickey felt something with him that he had never felt with anyone else in his entire life: Comfort and like he didn't have to pretend. The emptiness in the pit of his stomach was less frequent now and he'd given in to how he and Ian were around each other. He didn't like to think about the reason for them being like this, but he liked how they were and he liked Ian .

"That wasn't what I meant," he said, voice darkening. "You know I—"

"Mickey, relax," Ian chuckled, his thin eyebrows raising slightly. "I was joking."

Mickey's frown remained intact as he laid the papers down on the desk in front of him. He placed his elbows down on the table, too and looked up at Ian .

"We can still, like—hang out, right?" Mickey asked, hopefully.

Ian 's smile faded and his light blue eyes widened and studied Mickey intently. He was pale and his cheeks had flushed a pretty shade of pink and the dim lights left a sheen across his perfectly coiffed hair.

"If you want to," he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I want to," he affirmed, with a nod of his head.

"Okay, then," Ian said, that smile returning. "Just give me a call whenever you want."

Mickey smiled, relieved.

"So, final glee club meeting of the year tomorrow," Ian said and Mickey frowned. He liked glee club well enough, he just didn't like how the other members regarded him. Most of them ignored him, some sent snarky remarks his way, some looked terrified whenever he entered the room. The only one that ever showed him any kind of kindness, other than Ian , was Mr Schuester.

"I don't think I'm going to go," Mickey sighed.

"What?" Ian asked, leaning forward. "Why not?"

"I'm thinking of quitting after sectionals," he admitted.

"You can't quit!" Ian said, voice a little more high-pitched than usual. "We need you! After sectionals comes regionals and then nationals, if we're lucky! You can't quit!"

Mickey shrugged one shoulder.

"They all kind of hate me," he said, quietly, dropping his gaze to the table.

"Stop being so—on the defence around them. Let them see this side of you," Ian smiled. "You snap at them most of the time and you sit there scowling. Of course, they feel intimidated by you. You've only been making their lives a misery for God only knows how many years."

He had a point, Mickey guessed.

"Besides, you can't not go tomorrow," Ian said, sitting back in his chair. "I'm singing tomorrow."

Mickey raised his eyes to Ian . He hadn't heard Ian sing yet and he really wanted to, for some reason.

"You are?" he asked, wonderment plain in his voice. "Really?"

"Really," Ian nodded. "Well, it's a duet. With Rachel. But still, yes, I'm singing."

Mickey nodded and began stacking the loose sheets of paper lying on the desk.

"So...?" Ian asked, giving Mickey a quizzical look.

"What?" Mickey asked, smiling a bit.

"You'll come?"

"Duh," he said. "I've been trying to make you sing for weeks! I'm not passing up this opportunity, even if Rachel is going to be standing next to you trying to out sing you and making those ridiculously passionate faces."

"Off to gay club?"

Mickey swung around and saw Karofsky standing in the empty hallway, a smirk on his face.

"No, I didn't know there was a gay club at McKinley," Mickey smiled. "When did you form one?"

"W-what?" Karofsky stammered. "I'm not—"

"What I caught you doing to I—Gallagher in the janitor's closet says otherwise," Mickey stated.

Karofsky looked uncomfortable, his hands slipping into his pockets, feet shifting awkwardly. Mickey felt bad for a brief moment, until he remembered what Karofsky had done to Ian .

"You don't know what you saw! You—"

"Oh, I know what I saw, David," Mickey grinned. "I also know what Gallagher told me during English the day after."

Karofsky looked speechless and although Mickey knew exactly how it felt to be called out on how you felt, he took pleasure in the sight. Karofsky was an asshole. It was true, Mickey was an asshole, too, but Karofsky was a bigger asshole.

He looked confused, then lashed out. He sprung forward and pushed Mickey hard against the lockers. Mickey was smaller than Karofsky, but he was still strong. He pushed him off and shoved him up against the lockers on the opposite side of the corridor. Karofsky groaned and Mickey clutched him hard by the shoulders.

"I think you should apologise, David," Mickey snarled.

Karofsky lunged forward then, pushing Mickey to the ground and before Mickey could push him away, Karofsky's fist came down and collided with Mickey's left eye. Images and memories of different fists crashing into him flooded through his mind and he was suddenly very, very angry.

"You're useless to us," Karofsky was shouting as he struck another blow to the side of Mickey's face. "All you do is go around singing with those glee losers. I haven't seen you slushying a dork in weeks and word on the street is you're not screwing your girlfriend."

"At least I have a girlfriend," Mickey said and swung an arm, but missed Karofsky's face.

"Useless!" Karofsky growled. "Useless, useless, useless!"

Useless.

Mickey was sick to his teeth of that stupid word. Every single person that raised a hand to him used that dreaded word. He was really mad now and he wanted to hurt someone. He took a few breaths, then shoved Karofsky hard until he shot back and Mickey was over him. He raised a clenched fist and struck Karofsky's face with it. And then he couldn't stop. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were wild and he just kept on punching until he had no energy left. He fell back against the lockers and breathed, trying to calm his temper, to get his heart to stop thumping so loudly. Karofsky muttered something along the lines of 'asshole', before getting to his feet and taking off down the halls.

Mickey stayed there for a minute, then remembered he was supposed to be at glee and Ian was singing today. He stood up, straightened his clothes and ran all the way to the choir room, hoping he wasn't too late.

"Oh my God," Ian exclaimed when Mickey walked through the choir room door, panting. He looked awful. Well, that wasn't true. Mickey seldom looked awful, but he definitely didn't look his best at that moment. His eye was swelled and the side of his jaw was bruised and his curls had sprung free once again.

"Mickey, are you okay?" Mr Schuester asked, standing up, concern plain on his face.

"I'm fine," Mickey breathed. "Can we just get on with whatever you were doing before I got here?" he asked, walking towards the seats and sitting down. He crossed his arms and frowned, everyone's eyes on him.

"Um, okay," Mr Schue said, sounding a little uncertain. "Ian , Rachel. You guys are up."

Ian wanted to go to Mickey and ask him what had happened, but he couldn't, not in front of everyone. Instead, he climbed to his feet and went to stand next to Rachel in front of the class, as she spoke about the song. She was saying all the wrong things, but Ian just let her go on.

The music started and Rachel sang first.

"I'll be the grapes fermented,

Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit,

Like a perfect gentlemen,

I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick,

Where you will sit and contemplate your day."

Ian kept his eyes on Mickey as Rachel sang. He still looked really mad, his eyes were staring vacantly into space and his chest was rising and falling very quickly. Ian joined in with Rachel on the next verse.

"I'll be the water wings that save you if you start drowning,

In an open tab when your judgment's on the brink,

I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite

Albums back as you're lying there drifting off to sleep,

I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you,

You won't have to strain to look into my eyes,

I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat,

With the collar up so you won't catch a cold."

Mickey was looking at him now, his head tilted a little, his eyes curious and bright. His face had softened and his breathing had slowed and he looked more sad than angry now. Ian braced himself for his solo part, his heart beating manically. He could do this.

"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town,

And kiss you on the mouth,

We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of this scene,

Start a brand new colony,

Where everything will change."

He could see Mickey's interest growing now, his eyes a little wider, his lips parting, his fists unclenched. Ian had chosen this song because he needed to express how he felt. Yes, he liked Mickey as more than just what they were, which was friends, he guessed. He didn't think he would ever be able to admit that to Mickey, at least not in the near future, so he needed to get it out of his system. And if Mickey was there to witness it, all the better. He'd asked Rachel to do it with him, because he didn't think the song really suited his voice enough to sing it alone. They sounded good together.

"We'll give ourselves new names, identities erased,

The sun will heat the grounds,

Under our bare feet in this brand new colony,

Everything will change."

He finished and the music stopped and people were clapping and Mickey was clapping, too, his eyes locked on Ian . Rachel bowed and walked back to her seat. Ian followed, giving Mickey a small smile as he walked up to sit next to Mercedes.

"That was awesome," Mercedes told him.

"Thanks," he replied.

Mickey's shoulders had relaxed now and he looked a lot calmer than he had minutes before. Ian smiled, because that was his doing.

1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: Ian .

Can I get a ride?

Mickey texted back a quick yes and waited by his car. He'd ran out of glee club as quickly as possible, before anyone could ask any questions. He wasn't feeling as angry as he had been earlier, but he still felt stupid and weak and he wanted to punch Karofsky's lights out, but he felt better and there was a good reason for that.

Ian had the most wonderful voice he had ever heard in his entire life.

He turned around when he heard the school doors opening and closing and saw Ian walking towards him. He stood up straight and cursed Karofsky for the hundredth time since the fight had occurred for giving him a black eye and a bruised cheek. Even he couldn't pull that off.

"Bad day?" Ian asked, smiling sadly once he'd reached him.

"I've had worse," he shrugged and it hurt a little. "Can we go some place else?"

Ian walked forward and opened the passenger door, before climbing inside and closing it. Mickey went around his side and did the same. He drove the car out of the McKinley parking lot and drove until they had reached a park. He pulled into the small parking area and sighed as he sat back against his seat.

Ian was studying him. "Do I get to know what happened?"

"In a minute," Mickey said, before reaching across and pulling Ian 's mouth roughly down over his own. Ian gasped in protest, but when their lips met he relaxed and gave in to the kiss. Mickey kissed him for a long time, because he just needed to be close to someone for a little while.

"Are you alright?" Ian asked, softly, once they'd pulled apart.

"Do I look alright?" he snapped.

"Okay, relax," Ian said, firmly. "I thought we were past this by now."

"Sorry," Mickey murmured. "Karofsky was taunting me and we got into a bit of a fight."

"Clearly," Ian said, simply. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when I breathe," Mickey joked, but his laugh came out weakly.

Ian frowned a bit, as he studied Mickey's injuries. Mickey sighed again. Every muscle in his body ached. He needed to just go home and sleep it off.

"Did you call him out on the gay thing?"

"Maybe."

"Mickey," Ian said, with some disapproval.

Mickey sighed and explained what had happened in as much detail as he could at that moment.

"Even still," Ian said, afterwards. "He's obviously struggling."

"Screw him," Mickey groaned. "I don't care, okay? I'm sick of people calling me useless and using me as a punching bag!"

Ian was silent and his face fell.

"Mickey, I didn't me—"

"I know," he said. "I know that, okay? Can we just forget about Karofsky and talk about something else?"

Ian nodded, quickly and Mickey just wanted to kiss him just so that he would shut up and not talk about all these things he was too afraid to talk about, to even think.

"So, um, you finally got to hear me sing," Ian said, changing the subject.

Mickey sat up a little and looked at him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I've never heard anyone sing like you," he told him, truthfully.

"In a—good way?"

"In the best way," Mickey assured him. "Seriously, Rachel should just like, sit down and let you have all the solos. We would win everything."

Ian smiled and Mickey smiled then, too, because he liked when Ian smiled. He could discern the smile in those bright blue eyes of his and it was just refreshing to see him like this. He thought back to the sad looking boy in the schedule photo hanging from his notice board at home and decided he liked this smiling one so much better.

"You're not just saying that because you hate Rachel?" Ian enquired.

"Definitely not," he apprised him. "Hearing you sing was the best part of my day."

"I like when you're like this," Ian told him.

"Like what?"

"Not—hating me."

"I don't hate you," Mickey said. "We've already determined this."

"Liking me then," Ian corrected.

Mickey's smile grew as he sat up straight.

"We determined that, too."

"You're not, you know."

"I'm not what?" Mickey asked, crinkling his nose a little.

"Useless," Ian clarified and Mickey's heart sank. "You're not useless."

Mickey's breath had caught in his chest and he felt his throat tightening, the urge to cry nagging at him. He ignored it and leaned across and pressed his lips to Ian 's again. He still didn't know what this was, or why it was happening, or if he ever would know, but it felt good and he just didn't care sometimes. Ian was real, he was there, when no one else was and sometimes telling Ian what was on his mind just came natural and he instantly regretted it, then went back to not caring.

Mickey unlatched his mouth from Ian 's, but kept his lips brushing against his, as he whispered words shakily into his mouth.

"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth."

And then he fell back into the kiss, feeling Ian 's smile against his lips and he wished more than anything in the world that he could do just that.