Chapter 17:

"I need to talk to you."

Ian heard the panic in his voice before he had even turned around to look at him. When he did turn around, he saw that not only did Mickey sound like he was in distress, he looked it, too. His eyes were filled with worry and concern and his breathing was laboured.

"What? What is it?" Ian asked.

"I just.." Mickey's eyes darted around the crowded halls. "Can we go some place else?"

"Mickey, class starts in—"

"Ian," Mickey said and he reached out and placed a hand on both of Ian's shoulders. He looked right into his eyes and spoke, voice breaking. "You said you would always be someone I could come to. I'm coming to you now. I know I don't deserve your kindness, or your friendship, or just you in general, but I need you, Ian. Please."

Ian studied him. He looked as if it was the end of the world, like part of him had broken.

"Okay," Ian nodded.

They were in Ian's room and Mickey was pacing back and forth. Ian sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him. He was whispering to himself, frantically, too quietly for Ian to be able to make out what he was saying. It didn't look as if he was blinking, either, his bright eyes wide and dilated. Ian sighed.

"Mickey," he said. "Mickey, sit down. I didn't skip school so that you could parade back and forth looking pretty in my room."

Mickey didn't respond, he simply kept on pacing, as if Ian hadn't even spoken. Ian groaned and stood up. He went to Mickey and grabbed him by the shoulders, then pushed him to sit on the bed. Mickey was looking up at him, a stunned expression on his face. Ian wondered if he should slap him, or throw water over him, but instead, he just sat down next to him.

"Okay, breathe and tell me what's wrong."

Ian waited, while Mickey took slow, deep breaths. He kept raising his hands to his head, like the end was near. Finally, he met Ian's eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

"Quinn's pregnant," he said, very quietly.

Ian's heart stilled in his chest and then it seemed to plummet down to somewhere around his ankles and then back up again. He stared at Mickey for a few seconds.

"She's.. Seriously?"

Mickey nodded, just nodded.

"Well, this can't go well," Ian muttered. He couldn't really explain what he was feeling. The only word that came to mind was shock, but that was a huge understatement, an even bigger understatement than Quinn and Iggy's performance of Islands in the Stream being weird. His mind was flooded with these thoughts that said he had to face reality, that this was over, that it couldn't and wouldn't go on, that Mickey had a responsibility and he couldn't expect him to go on with their relationship and how long did he think it was going to last anyway?

"I can't.. Ian, I can't have a baby," Mickey said, sounding dazed.

Ian felt like pointing out that he didn't really have much of a choice, but he thought that would be a little insensitive, so he didn't. Instead, he reached out and laid a hand on Mickey's shoulder, hoping it came across as a supportive gesture.

"Does she know what she wants to do?"

Mickey looked up and shrugged, looking helpless.

"I only spoke to her for about two minutes. She told me, then when I didn't react in the way she'd expected me to, she stormed off and then I went to find you."

Ian wondered if Quinn had expected Mickey to do a celebration dance on hearing the news. He really disliked that girl, even more so now.

"I mean, I've known for a long time that I would end up stuck with her forever, probably, but.." Mickey trailed off, shaking his head. "I guess I didn't ever really and truly believe it, you know?"

"This isn't the Stone Age, Mickey," Ian said, though he knew using the Stone Age as an example was inaccurate, but thinking was difficult right now. "Getting a girl pregnant doesn't necessarily mean you're tied to her forever."

"You obviously haven't met my dad," Mickey said.

"I don't think I'd want to meet him, anyway," Ian muttered. "You know, you should probably talk to her, find out the details. Things might not be as.."

Things might not be as bad as they seem, he'd been going to say, but stopped, because things were pretty bad.

"Okay, look," Ian began, with a sigh. "You need to consider everything here, okay? For one, you have to take responsibility for this kid. Secondly, you don't have to stay with her, you know? I mean, if you don't want to be with her, that's your own decision. You're eighteen soon, you're an adult, you make your own decisions. If your dad doesn't like it, that's his problem. He's not the one who has to spend the rest of his life tied to someone like Quinn. And above all of that, Mickey, we—me and you—we need to stop this entire thing."

Mickey looked up then, his eyes wide. He looked as if that hadn't crossed his mind yet. Ian watched as he stood up and crossed the room, breathing heavily.

"I can't," Mickey uttered.

"Well, you have to," Ian told him. "You can't go and commit to having a kid with your girlfriend and still meet me in fields for sex."

"No," Mickey said, adamantly. "I know. I know, I can't. But I can't.. Ian. I can't not be with you."

"Mickey—"

"How can you be so calm about it?" Mickey demanded. "How can you just tell me we can't do this any more with just a shrug, like it's nothing to you?"

Ian shut his eyes tight. He didn't know how else to say it, because he didn't like being the pity party, didn't want Mickey to know how badly it hurt. In reality, he felt as if his heart was ripping into millions of pieces.

"We'll still talk and all that, if you want," Ian shrugged, ignoring the question.

"You feel nothing?"

"Mickey," Ian sighed again. "How long did you think this could go on?"

Ian had asked himself the same question and couldn't come up with an answer. He didn't know, he just knew that he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to be away from Mickey.

"I don't know!" Mickey said, sounding a little hysterical. "I don't know anything! I let everything build up and it's all back fired."

"Mickey—"

"I know how wrong it is, Ian, I know, okay?" Mickey went on. "I know that it's selfish and wrong, but I can't lose you! I don't know how!"

"Mickey, calm dow—"

"I can't calm down!" Mickey said, loudly. "How can I calm down when you clearly don't care?"

Ian's frustration rose like mercury in a thermometer held next to a fire. He jumped to his feet and looked at Mickey, right at him, into those copper penny eyes.

"I don't care?" he said, voice high pitched. "All I've been doing is caring! In fact, Mickey, I think I'm probably the only person in your lie of a life that gives a damn! Don't tell me I don't care, when I've been the only one fucking caring from day one!"

"Well, you don't act like you care!" Mickey retorted. "You're standing there telling me it's over, like the closing credits of a movie are rolling! I know that it's over, okay? I can see the stupid credits! You don't have to state the God damned obvious! I know! But unlike you, I clearly have a bigger problem with that happening, with this ending. So, what was it, Ian? Was this just all one big joke? You decided you'd just sleep with me and tell me you'd be here for me, just for the fun of it? Because that's how it looks. It lookslike you have absolutely no problem with this being over."

Ian laughed, cruelly. "Are you serious?" he shouted. "You have a bigger problem with this being over? Really? You make it sound as if I'm not emotionally attached to this-this-whatever this is! Like I'm the one who's afraid to admit that I like another guy! Like I'm kissing you and giving you bracelets and texting you and then going back to my girlfriend and slushying you in the school hallways! Maybe you should sit down and rethink that, Mickey, because I'm pretty sure that was all you!"

"If you're so 'emotionally attached'," Mickey said, forming air quotes with his fingers. "Then why are you so laid back about this? Why are you acting as if I'm just another name you can cross off a list of people you've slept with?"

"I haven't slept with anyone but you and you know that," Ian pointed out. "You on the other hand—"

"Don't even tell me there hasn't been anyone else," Mickey shook his head. "I'm not saying you lied about being a virgin, but as if you went to an all-boys school and none of them wanted to touch you. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to? Don't make out like I've been with more than one person and you haven't."

Ian took a deep breath and then groaned with frustration. Mickey was going to send him to an early grave.

"Do you want to know about the one other guy that you speak of, Mickey?" Ian asked. "Do you want to know what it's like to be with someone who just wants you for sex? Oh, wait, apparently you already know what that's like, since I've been using you for all this sex. Like I'm the one who got drunk and stuck my hand down your pants."

Ian hadn't told Mickey about Evan, the last guy he'd been with—the only other guy he'd ever been with. He didn't class him as a boyfriend, because they never actually dated. It mostly consisted of them ending up in one another's room and then Evan trying to get Ian's jeans off. It hadn't ended well and Ian hadn't ever told anyone about it.

"Well," Mickey said, looking a little defeated. "That doesn't explain why you claim to be so attached to this—us—yet you stand there looking like ending it will have no impact on your life at all."

"No impact on my life?" Ian asked. "Mickey, do you know what it's like to have someone act like they like you, like they want you and they do all these things with you, to you, for you, yet you never know how they feel, because they never tell you? Do you know what that's like for me? Do you know how frustrating and confusing that is? To want someone so bad, someone you can never truly have, but you keep on letting things happen, because it means you still get to be close to them? Now you know what it's like for me, but me? I have no idea how you feel? Want to know why? Because you never fucking tell me without it coming out of your mouth as some sort of cryptic, mysterious riddle that I can't understand!"

Mickey crossed the room quickly and Ian thought he was going to leave. He wouldn't follow him, he would let him walk right on out of his room, out of his life. But Mickey didn't leave, he stopped right in front of Ian and looked right at him.

"You want to know how I feel?" Mickey said. "I'll tell you exactly how I feel! I'll tell you exactly why I can't understand you being so perfectly fine with this being over! I'll tell you why it hurts that you seem to feel nothing! I'll tell you why I know this has to end, but I can't let go so easily! It's because I love you, okay?" Mickey shouted. "I love you and it terrifies me both that I love you and that you might not love me back. Are you happy now? Did I help you understand how I feel, Ian?"

Ian stared at him, mouth hanging open. His heart was racing in his chest and his skin was shivering all over. This simply could not be happening. Mickey couldn't love him now, when it all had to come to an end. It wasn't possible, it wasn't fair.

"No," Ian shook his head. "No, no. You don't. You don't love me."

"Yes, I do!" Mickey told him. "I do. I love you and I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that it's like this, but I love you and there's nothing I can do about that." Mickey's face fell and he looked like he might cry, but he didn't. He simply moved forward and pressed his mouth down over Ian's. "I'm sorry," he whispered against his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Mickey's fingers were fumbling with the small buttons on Ian's shirt. His heart was hammering away against his ribcage and he was breathing heavily into Ian's mouth. He could feel Ian's heart beating hard and fast beneath his touch as his fingers continued to push the small, white buttons out through the little loop holes.

Finally, he had it completely unbuttoned. He pushed it down past Ian's arms and flung it off to the side. It landed in a pile on the floor. Mickey bent to kiss Ian again, his hands finding Ian's chest, his fingers following the contours of his skin. He knew he shouldn't do this, not with everything that was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. All he wanted was Ian, even if it would be their last time ever, which he was not happy about, he just wanted to be with him, wanted to be close to him, wanted to feel his heart beating against his chest, just once more.

Ian's hands were pushing Mickey's jacket off. He moved back a little, to allow him room to push it away and within seconds, it was on the floor next to Ian's shirt. Before Mickey could breathe, Ian was tugging him back on top of him, crashing his mouth against his hungrily. Every other time they'd had sex, it hadn't been like this. It had been calm, careful, their movements very contrived, but now, it was hungry, frantic, they were clinging to one another like tomorrow was their final day.

"Will you stop saying you're sorry?" Ian muttered against his lips and Mickey hadn't realised he was still apologising out loud. He didn't get a chance to reply, because Ian's hands were pushing his shirt up his chest and then he was tugging it up over his arms and over his head and then they were both topless.

Mickey made a small sound when he felt Ian tugging him back down, their bare skin touching. He wanted him more than he could bring himself to admit, even now after having confessed to loving him. He did love him, he couldn't deny that to himself any more.

Mickey's hands flitted lower until they found the top button on Ian's tight pants. He went to work on that, while Ian's lips found his neck, his kisses soft, but still sloppy and fast. Ian's mouth found Mickey's pulse and he placed small kisses there for a long time, before sucking his skin into his mouth. Mickey groaned and began pushing Ian's pants south. Finally, he kicked them off of Ian's body, leaving him in just his briefs, his porcelain skin almost translucent beneath Mickey.

He could only look at him for a second, because Ian's mouth found his again and he gasped against his lips when Ian's hands had moved lower and found the crotch of his jeans. He moaned when Ian's fingers squeezed his erection through his jeans, before unzipping him. Mickey hummed in relief when Ian had the zipper all the way down. His cock was still straining against his underwear, but at least the hard material of his jeans was gone.

Mickey wasted no time, he hooked his fingers into the top of Ian's underwear and tugged them down, freeing his hard-on. This time, he sat back a little, to look at him in the light of the day. He had never really properly just looked at Ian. He was the most flawless thing he had ever seen in his life. Ian blushed while Mickey watched him, the skin around his neck and in his cheeks flushing a bright pink.

"You're beautiful," Mickey whispered. He figured he had nothing left to lose now, he could just say these things, he didn't care now, Ian already knew. He didn't wait for Ian to reply, he simply bent down again and covered Ian's swelled mouth with his own, their tongues falling together and finding a steady rhythm.

Mickey pushed his hand downwards and wrapped his fingers around Ian's cock, sending a low moan from his mouth. They were still kissing like it was the end of the world and then Ian was pushing Mickey's boxers off and within seconds, they were both completely naked and pressed against one another.

Mickey's hand let Ian's cock go and Ian moaned at the loss. He moved his hand lower again, his fingers finding Ian's opening.

"Oh," Ian breathed, when Mickey rubbed a finger over his tight hole. Mickey loved the noises Ian made when he had his fingers inside him, he could have listened to him all day, just knowing he was doing that to him. He lifted his fingers to Ian's mouth and Ian sucked on them.

"Fuck," Mickey uttered. He had never seen anything like this. Ian was literally the hottest thing he had ever seen.

He pulled his fingers out and Ian let go with a small popping sound, then Mickey lowered his hand to find Ian's entrance again. He lowered his mouth to kiss Ian as he pressed a finger to his asshole and worked it in slowly. Ian pulled his mouth off of Mickey's in an instant and cried out, his head flinging backwards.

Mickey extended his finger slowly, then pushed it back in and Ian made the same sound again. After a few more pushed, Ian was moving, pushing himself down over Mickey's fingers and Mickey could have come, simply from watching him. But he didn't want to come yet, he wanted more, wanted to take his time, because this was probably going to be their last time.

Mickey pulled his finger out and Ian tried to push himself down over it again, but Mickey's hand was gone. Ian whined, but Mickey caught the sound with his mouth and instead, used his hand to pump back and forth along the base of Ian's dick. Ian's hand came down to Mickey's erection and his fingers danced gently along the underside, until they found his balls. Ian's touch against his sensitive skin made him cry out against his mouth and God, he was perfect.

"Side table drawer," Ian said, voice thick and uneven.

"What?" Mickey breathed, his hand moving faster along Ian's cock, sending small moans from his mouth. Ian's hand had moved up to close around Mickey's cock and Mickey wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"Side table drawer, Mickey," Ian emphasised.

"Oh," Mickey said, realising. "Not yet."

He let go of Ian and began moving lower until his head was in line with Ian's hard-on, which was already shining with pre-come at the head. Mickey cursed at the sight, before flicking his tongue over it. Ian was making small guttural sounds and Mickey moved so that his head was angled in a way that he could just slide his mouth down over Ian's cock.

"God, Mickey," Ian said, when Mickey began to suck up and down, his lips stretched around him. Mickey remembered the first night he had done this, how afterwards, he had wanted more than anything for it to go away, for Ian to just disappear out of his life. Now, all he wanted was to have Ian forever and he could never have that.

Ian's hand were in his hair, tugging lightly on the curls which had escaped the gel. He continued to suck on Ian, until Ian's fingers tugged hard on his hair and he kept on pulling until Mickey had moved his mouth off entirely.

"What?" Mickey asked, breathlessly. "What's wrong?"

"Not gonna l-last if you keep d-doing th-that," Ian told him.

He knew how he felt. Mickey glanced down at his own cock against his stomach. His insides were knotting and he just wanted more, wanted all of Ian. He kissed him again and their pace hadn't slowed at all. There was a want, a yearning as they crashed their tongues together. Mickey tore his mouth off Ian's then and looked right into those sea-blue, shining eyes.

"I want you inside me," he said and Ian seemed to choke.

"You-you—oh. Okay," Ian said, sounding flustered.

Mickey had never been so blunt about what he wanted when it came to intimacy with Ian, with anyone actually. Now, he just wanted to feel close to him, to have him in every possible way, because he couldn't have him in the way he wanted, the way that mattered most. He couldn't have him to call his own.

"Side table drawer," Ian told him again.

"Okay," Mickey said and leaned across to the drawer. He pulled it open and reached inside for the small bottle of lube. He handed it to Ian.

"The condoms are—"

"Can we not?" Mickey asked, blushing. "I just—I just want to—to feel you."

Ian stared up at him for a couple of heartbeats and Mickey couldn't read anything from his expression. Then he nodded.

"I—Okay."

"You don't have to if you're uncomfortable with tha—"

"No," Ian shook his head, his fingers tracing patterns over Mickey's thigh, sending small shivers all along his skin. "No, I want to."

Mickey nodded and Ian sat up. He pushed Mickey back against the pillows and kissed him again, as he opened the cap on the bottle of lube with a snapping sound. Mickey heart was beating hard as he felt Ian shifting his leg into a position that allowed his easy access to his opening. He hadn't bottomed since their first time, but for some reason he was more nervous now about it than he had been then.

Ian pressed a single kiss to Mickey's lips, then sat back on his knees and pressed on the bottle of lube until the cool liquid was in the palm of his hand. Mickey swallowed hard.

"Are you all right?" Ian asked, looking down at him with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Yes," Mickey said. "Yes, just—I'm fine. Do it."

Ian nodded and then spread some of the lube over his first finger. Mickey had to look away, because he was going to come. He gasped at the first touch of Ian's cool finger against his opening. It flicked over it once, then twice, then began pressing against his tight hole. He continued to press against it, until the tip of his finger slid in easily. Mickey arched his hips and Ian pushed them back down with the hand that didn't have its finger inside him.

Ian pushed his finger all the way in, slowly, then moved it back out and Mickey was breathing faster now. He watched as Ian spread lube over a second finger and then went to work at stretching him open enough to fit in both. Soon, he was covering his a third finger with the sticky liquid and then he was moving to fit three inside him.

Mickey's ankles were thrashing a little and Ian pressed a hand back to hold one still.

"Relax," he whispered, as he pushed in and out of him with his fingers, now moving freely. Mickey groaned every time Ian's fingers hit that spot and God, he was so, so close. He watched as Ian began to pump back and forth on his own cock, with the hand that had the pool of lube in its palm. Mickey moaned when he saw Ian's cock, now shining with the lube.

"Still okay?" Ian asked, as he pushed himself back on his knees.

"More than okay," Mickey told him, truthfully.

Ian moved his legs up and Mickey took a deep breath as Ian lined himself up with his opening. He pressed the head of his cock against Mickey's hole then began to push slowly in and Mickey's eyes fluttered closed, his head pushing back hard against the pillows.

"God," Ian breathed, pausing with just the head of his cock buried inside Mickey. "How can you still be this tight?"

Mickey couldn't reply, couldn't form coherent words. He watched as Ian took another few long inhales, his pale chest rising and falling quickly, then he pushed slowly forward again, past the second ring of muscle inside Mickey. This time, he didn't pause to give him time to adjust, he simply kept on inching further in, until he was buried all the way inside.

"Jesus," Mickey managed to choke out, his hard cock still pressing against his stomach.

Ian moved down to catch Mickey's mouth with his own, which meant his body shifted a little, which in turn, caused his cock to slide backwards a little inside Mickey. Mickey moaned into Ian's kiss and then Ian's hand was reaching down to entwine his fingers around his cock. Mickey's stomach tightened at his touch. He was going to come very soon.

Ian continued to kiss him and pump away at his erection and then he was retracting his hips and then immersing himself back inside and Mickey was crying out against his lips. He wrapped his legs around his waist and Ian was still kissing him, lazily and his hips were moving back and forth at a more rapid pace now, his cock hitting Mickey's spot every time he plunged himself forward. Soon, Mickey was moving his hips in a rhythm with Ian's so that he was meeting Ian every time he moved back in.

Ian's hand was still moving back and forth on Mickey's cock between them and Mickey had never felt as close to anyone in his entire life. He could feel Ian's heart thumping against his chest and Ian's chest was rising and falling as quickly as his own. He felt hot and cold and dizzy and happy and he just never wanted to let this boy go.

Mickey moaned high and long when he came, his come hitting Ian's chest and his own, leaving pearly streaks on their skin. He closed his eyes as Ian's hand continued to pump on his dick until he had come completely, pleasure still racking his body from the feeling of Ian's cock moving in and out inside of him. Ian moved back again to make it easier to move. He clutched Mickey's hips and began to push in and out harder and faster and Mickey knew he was going to come, he knew he was close, because his thrusts were more erratic and his head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open.

Small sounds escaped his throat and Mickey couldn't take his eyes off him. He was perfect, so, so perfect and Mickey just had to tell him that, he would make sure to tell him later, because he needed to know. He needed to know that he was perfect and that there was no one else like him and that there never, ever would be, at least not for Mickey.

Soon, Ian was coming inside Mickey and they were both crying out. Mickey reached up and tugged Ian back town to kiss him and Ian continued to move in and out, riding out the orgasm, before collapsing on top of Mickey and kissing him senseless.

"I can't—I can't lose you," Mickey whispered into his mouth.

"We don't have a choice, Mickey," Ian told him and Mickey could see the sadness in his cyan eyes. "We just don't have a choice."

Ian had never seen Mickey like this in all the times they had been together. Never had he ever lay with his head rested on Ian's chest, one arm curled around his waist, the other tracing invisible designs over his arm with his fingers. Not that Ian was complaining. They wouldn't be able to do anything like this ever again, it was sort of a final day for them, they would enjoy it.

Ian was stroking Mickey's hair back absently, as they just stared at one another in complete silence. He could feel Mickey's warm breath on his chest, near his heart and Ian couldn't tell if he wanted to cry or scream. Maybe both.

They were both sweaty and Ian had wiped them off with a shirt, but they were still sticky and disgusting. He could feel his skin cooling off from the cool air that was sifting through the small slit of his open window.

Mickey's eyes were sad and tired looking. Neither of them had spoken in at least fifteen minutes. Ian decided he should break the silence, because they would have to at some point.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Terrified," Mickey told him.

"What of?"

"What of?" Mickey asked. "Um, everything."

Ian shook his head, his fingers still smoothening over Mickey's dark hair. "I mean—well. You can still talk to me, you know? I told you once that I'll always be someone you can come to, no matter the situation. I meant it. So, talk to me. What are you thinking?"

Mickey sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.

"I figure that being stuck with Quinn for possibly the rest of my life is something I'll have to accept, you know? I know you said having a—a baby doesn't mean we have to, like, get married, or whatever, but it sort of does. I mean, not right now, but eventually. Because Quinn's parents are just like my parents. Everything has to be a certain way, or it's wrong, there's no question about it. So, I'll accept that, you know? I mean, I won't be happy about it, but that's just how it has to go, but the thing that gets me most—aside from, you know, not being able to kiss you whenever the fuck I want to—what gets me most is the idea of a baby."

"Don't think you're cut out to be a daddy?" Ian asked, smiling sadly. God, he just really hated Quinn. He sort of felt sorry for her, because babies weren't an easy fete, but he mostly just hated her for how she had managed to trap Mickey for good.

"Not now, anyway," Mickey said. "I hadn't ever really given it much thought. But.."

Mickey trailed off and began chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes dropped and he was taking long inhales.

"What?" Ian asked, softly, using his fingers to tilt Mickey's head back to face him.

Mickey was silent for a moment, then he exhaled and looked into Ian's eyes.

"I'm scared I'm going to turn out like my dad."

"Mickey, you're nothing like your—"

"You've never even met him," Mickey pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've seen what he's capable of, remember?" Ian reminded him. "And I know you, Mickey. You're not like that. Beneath this shield you've put up around you, you're a good person—a really good person. You don't deserve anything that's happening to you, Mickey."

"I never deserved you," Mickey said, looking up at him. "That's why I don't get to have you."

"That and the fact that you're not gay, right?" Ian smirked.

Mickey sighed, tiredly. "I don't know."

Ian didn't say anything, because there wasn't really any point now.

"Do you remember that day in the bathroom? When you told me I would wind up with Quinn and that I'd end up cheating on her with some guy I met at my kid's football game?"

"Oh, wow," Ian said. He had forgotten about that. "That's pretty uncanny."

"Yeah," Mickey said. "Why are you always so right?"

"I wish I wasn't," Ian told him. "At least about this."

"If you are," Mickey said. "I hope you're at my kid's football game, Ian. In fact, you should come to all of them just to heighten the chances."

Ian chuckled and Mickey smiled slightly. They didn't say anything for a little while, then, just listened to the sound of the other breathing.

"You know earlier when I said all that stuff? When I said you were just in this for the—the sex and when I called you out on the whole previous relationships thing," Mickey said. "I didn't mean any of that. I know you weren't just in this for that reason. This—us—it was never just about sex. Not for me, either. It was always more, even if I was never able to admit that. And the whole past boyfriends thing, I—that was just me being stupid and angry and jealous, I guess."

"Jealous?" Ian asked with intrigue. "You're jealous of my one past relationship? In fact, I don't even class that as a relationship. You have no reason to be jealous."

"What'd he do?" Mickey asked and Ian thought he sounded sort of defensive about it.

"Nothing, really," Ian shrugged. "He spent large amounts of his time trying to take my pants off, but never really succeeded. Well. Maybe he got them off once, but we never—I wasn't lying when I said I was a virgin."

"I know," Mickey nodded against Ian's chest. "Did that end badly? You know, the thing with the other guy?"

"I guess," Ian said, thoughtfully. "Most things in my life seem to end badly."

Mickey frowned and pressed the lightest of kisses to Ian's chest.

"I'm sorry, Ian."

"You said that about six million times already," Ian smiled. "But it's okay. I guess you can't be solely blamed for this. I could have said no at any time, I just didn't really want to."

Ian wanted to ask him if he had meant it when he said he loved him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, because if Mickey said yes, that he meant it, it would only make the entire thing more painful. Mickey had been a mess when he had said he loved him. It had probably been a mistake, a slip up, something said on a whim. He had to believe that, because believing that made thing easier.

"Will you still come to my party?"

"You're still having it?"

"I can't tell my parents, yet," Mickey informed him. "So, yes, they'll expect me to have a party. They've already made plans to disappear for the weekend."

"Then, yeah, I'll go," Ian nodded. "Still going to ask the glee club?"

"Of course."

"Cool," Ian said, because he didn't really know what else to say. "Should I get you anything in particular?"

"You're the only person in my life who's even remotely interested in my life, do you know that?"

"That doesn't help me with gift ideas, Milkovich," Ian smiled a little.

"You've already given me far more than I deserve," Mickey told him. "I don't need anything else."

Ian rolled his eyes. "I'll come up with something, I guess."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Okay."

Ian looked at him lying there, looking like he was on death row awaiting execution. It was awful to watch. Sure, Mickey could have prevented this from happening if he had just been truthful about who he was from the beginning, but he'd been afraid and that was acceptable, Ian guessed. He was human and everyone got scared sometimes.

"Come here," Ian said and he moved to kiss Mickey's lips. They made out for a long time and then Ian pulled back. "We have to go to school, you know."

"What? Why?"

"Because if you're going to keep up the pretence, then it's not going to look good if we're both missing, is it?"

"Oh."

"Yeah," Ian said. "Or I could just go, if you're not up to it."

"No," Mickey sighed. "I'll be okay. I should probably talk to her anyway."

"Yeah, seeing as how you found out no details, you probably should," Ian said. "Good luck with that."

"Don't wish me luck, though I do need all the luck I can get," Mickey apprised him. "Kiss me one more time, because I guess this is it for us."

Ian's smile fell and he nodded. "Guess so."

Mickey pressed his mouth down over Ian's and he kissed him slowly, gently and for a long time.

"I'm going to miss kissing you," Mickey whispered once they'd stopped.

"Me, too," Ian told him. "I'm still your friend, though. You know that?"

Mickey nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, me, too."

"We should get dressed."

"We should."

"You should get off of me, then," Ian smiled.

"I know," Mickey told him. He frowned then. "I wish things were different."

"Me, too."

"This is it, then."

"Yep," Ian sighed. "Maybe it's for the best."

Maybe it was, but if it was, why did he feel so heart broken?

"Maybe," Mickey said. "But I doubt it, because it doesn't feel that way."

"I know."

"You can't tell anyone," Quinn informed him.

"I didn't plan on telling anyone," Mickey said. Ian didn't count, he had conceded, because Ian was Ian and he could talk to Ian without having to worry about the entire world finding out.

"Just so you know," Quinn began. "I'm going to keep this a secret for as long as I can. I'm eight weeks now and I'm hoping it doesn't show for a long time."

This all felt very surreal and Mickey felt dizzy. A baby. It all felt like some kind of crazy dream and he wished he could just wake up.

"Okay," he said, in a bit of a daze.

"So," Quinn said. "Your party. Who's going?"

Mickey shrugged. How could she worry about something like a part at a time like this?

"Um, everyone I'm assuming," he told her. "I'm inviting the glee club."

Quinn gave him this look, a look that seemed to question his very existence.

"What?"

"You're inviting those losers?" she asked. "Why?"

"Well, because I'm in glee club with them," Mickey provided. "I mean, why did you even join if you're just going to be rude to them? And I have a better question, why the hell did Iggyerman join?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and groaned. "Who cares?" she said. "You don't have to invite them, you know? I mean, it's not like you're obliged to invite them."

"I want to invite them," Mickey said. "And I'm going to, later on at glee club."

Quinn's face was a mask of disapproval. "Fine, Mickey, you do that."

If they were going to be together forever (he cringed every time he thought of it), he figured it was time he stopped being the push over in this relationship.

"I will."

"Wait, is this a trick?" Rachel demanded. "Because if you plan on setting us on fire, or something equally as illegal, I think you should rethink that, Mickey Milkovich, I'll have you know that my—"

"It's not a trick," Mickey said. "I just thought you guys could, you know, come. If you wanted to. You don't even have to get me anything."

"You think we're not going to go because we don't want to buy you a gift?" Santana asked. "No way, Milkovich. If we're not going it is not because we can't afford you a stupid present. It'll be because a) we don't like you and b) we don't like you."

"Santana," Ian said, with a warning tone.

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of trick, Mickey?" Tina asked from her seat at the back.

"I wish it was," Quinn rolled her eyes. Everyone looked at her. "What? I'm just saying you guys don't really belong at Mickey's party, do you?"

Mickey sighed. Why was she even in glee club, anyway?

"Quinn, are you trying to say you don't want us there?" Ian asked, sweetly.

Mickey couldn't ignore that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looked at or thought of Ian. He wanted so desperately for things to be different, but they never could be and that made him feel sick.

"Oh, whatever gave you that idea?" Quinn asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ian looked at Mickey, right at him, those cerulean blues bright and shining.

"In that case," he said, firmly. "We'll be there."

Mickey smiled.