Chapter 27:

Mickey was ignoring Ian, who was shooting him looks from his seat, looks which seemed to question Mickey's sanity. Mickey's heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was dry, but he was done. He was so fed up with the pretences and with being afraid and with everything. Nothing mattered any more, he may as well just let it all out.

Mickey met Ian's eyes briefly. Ian gave him a small nod, which Mickey translated as are you sure? Mickey blinked once. Yes. He tore his eyes from Ian's blue orbs and looked around the room, looking at everyone rather than anyone in particular.

"There have been a lot of rumours going around about me lately," Mickey spoke up. He could hardly hear himself over the fast paced beat of his heart. "And actually, most of them are true."

He saw everyone exchanging glances with one another, everyone but Ian and Mercedes, who simply stared straight ahead.

"If you're wondering which ones," Mickey went on. "The one about Quinn not having my baby is true, as we just learned." Mickey glanced over at Iggy, who was just watching him, eyes wide. "Also, yeah. I kind of love glee club. Playing football bores me to death. Let's see, what else?" Mickey paused. "Oh, right. The big one. The one that my good friend David Karofsky spread around."

Mickey saw Ian's eyes flash. He knew he was thinking Mickey was about to out Karofsky as well as himself, but Mickey wasn't going to do that, he simply wanted to alarm Dave.

"If you don't know what I mean by 'the big one', I'll break that down for you," Mickey said. He wasn't sure where he was getting his courage from. Maybe he was just too tired of being a coward, of hiding in the shadows. It was time to come out. Literally. "David has been saying that I'm gay, right Dave?" Karofsky looked away quickly. "So, yeah. I am. I'm gay," Mickey emitted. "I'm gay."

Eyes widened and jaws dropped all over the room. Mickey saw Ian exhaling, shoulders slumping a little.

"The other half of Dave's rumour," Mickey said, carefully. "Was that I was sleeping with Ian, there."

All eyes went to Ian and Ian simply blinked, his blue gaze locked on Mickey.

"Partially true," Mickey confirmed. "I say 'partially', because I wasn't just sleeping with Ian. I'm through lying, so I may as well just go ahead and tell you everything. Ian made me do something I didn't ever think I would do. He made me love him. He made me love him and he made me realise I hated myself, because I did. I hate who I was before I met Ian. I hate that I made all your lives a misery." He looked towards the glee club. "I hate that I went along with all of you and your stupidity." He looked across at the football team. "I hate that I was living a lie, that I was pretending I was someone else, just to conform to what you all thought I was supposed to be."

Nobody said a word, just watched him with stunned expressions.

"So, Ian made me realise who I really am and I fell in love with him in the process," Mickey continued. "He's the only one who has been here for me no matter what, even though you guys were supposed to be my friends. I don't really have Ian any more. I don't have friends. I've literally got nothing right now. So, whatever. Now you know."

Mickey took a long inhale, then exhaled slowly. "To re-cap: I'm gay, gayer than Christmas. I'm gay and I'm through with all of you." His copper eyes fell on Ian, then. "Except you. I'll never be through with you."

Ian opened his mouth, the beginning of Mickey's name on his lips, but he stopped then and simply shook his head.

"I love you," Mickey told him and his voice broke. "You got me here, Ian. You helped me come clean, you're the reason I could do this today. And I thought that at the end of all this, I would at least still have you, which I guess I was wrong about, what with how everything has played out. But still, I owe you for everything. Thank you for what you've done for me. And I love you, I really, really do." Mickey swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. It didn't go away. "So, that's it really. I've said everything I needed to. I know there's still months to go, but I kind of hope I never see any of you ever again once we graduate." His eyes lingered on Ian. He probably wasn't going to see Ian after graduation, he didn't have a choice regarding that. "Well, most of you anyway."

Mickey addressed the glee club, then. "Thank you for accepting me, even though I treated every single one of you like crap for years," he said. "I'm not going to bail on you for regionals, because you don't deserve that, so don't worry."

Rachel gave him a sympathetic nod. He looked over at the footballers, who still looked stunned. "Thanks for helping me become something I hated. I'm not going to be at the game on Saturday. For one, I hate playing football. Sure, I'm better than all of you, which wouldn't be hard, but I'm still not going to go, because you don't deserve it. The majority of you are homophobic, which is pretty funny when I look at some of you." Mickey shot Karofsky a brief glance. "If you expect me, as a gay guy, to help you, as homophobes, win a game, you're nuts. And even without that, you're all assholes and I'm not going to waste my time being around you any more."

Mickey took a deep inhale of breath, then looked at Ian again. "Thank you for helping me find my heart, for putting it back together and for breaking it again. It's stupid, because I want to hate you, but I can't. I love you more than I ever have. I doubt I'll ever stop."

Mickey cleared his throat, glanced around the room once more, then turned away and walked towards the door, just as Mr Schuester walked inside. He stopped still, face contorting with confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking around the room. "Why is the football team here? Mickey? Are you okay?"

Mickey shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr Schuester," he uttered, then continued on out the door and down the halls and then out into the parking lot. He got in his car, heart aching painfully in his chest, a bitter sweet taste left on his tongue.

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding and started the car. He drove out of the school grounds and out on to the road and didn't stop until the first warm, salty tear trickled from his eye, followed by a torrent of more.

Mickey cried until he had no more tears left in him, his entire body convulsing with dry, tearless sobs. His head was throbbing and his heart was racing and he closed his eyes because there was nothing left to do.

To: Mickey at 5.01 P.M.

Where are you?

To: Mickey at 5.05 P.M.

Mickey, where are you?

To: Mickey at 5.08 P.M.

You need someone right now. Tell me where you are.

To: Mickey at 5.11 P.M.

Yeah, okay, Mickey, the silent treatment, that's real mature.

To: Mickey at 5.14 P.M.

Fine, I'll be at your house in ten minutes. Bye.

To: Ian at 5.15 P.M.

I'm not at my house, I'm at the field.

"Hi."

Mickey didn't say a word, only blinked once up at the sky. Ian nodded slowly, then went and sat down gingerly in the grass near him.

"Are you okay?"

Mickey raised an eyebrow, as if to say what do you think? Which, Ian guessed, he had a point.

"Do you think you were ready?" Ian asked. "I know you weren't planning it, but was it the wrong time? Are you sorry you did it?"

"No," Mickey said, breaking his silence. "No, it was time. It felt right."

"Good," Ian said, relieved. "I was worried."

"Were you," Mickey said and he didn't make it a question.

Ian sighed, silently. "Breaking up with you didn't mean I was going to stop caring, Mickey."

Mickey snorted.

"Oh, shut up, Mickey, you know I care," Ian rolled his eyes. He eyed Mickey for a little while, then lay back next to him. Mickey leaned up a bit and looked down at him, brows furrowed.

"You're lying in the grass," Mickey said, stating the obvious. "Aren't you scared you'll get your clothes dirty?"

"I'm making an exception."

"An exception?" Mickey asked. "What for?"

"For you, Mickey," Ian said, cringing at the fact that there was probably bugs beneath him. "You just—you just did what you did and you need someone, so I'm going to lay here with you."

Mickey lay back and sighed. "Why are you making this harder?" he asked, quietly. Ian didn't say anything. He didn't want to make it harder. "By being here with me, you're making it harder."

"Do you want me to leave?" Ian asked, sitting up a bit.

"No," Mickey said, tugging him back down. "No, don't leave me."

Ian sat back and couldn't shake the feeling that Mickey wasn't just asking him not to leave the field. He didn't say anything about it, just sighed and watched the grey clouds drifting across the sombre sky.

"You can talk to me," Ian said, after a while.

Mickey was silent and Ian didn't think he was going to say anything else, but he did.

"I don't know what's going to happen now," Mickey uttered. "I don't know what I'm going to do, or say. I don't know if I'm happy, or sad. I don't know anything."

"Do you think he knows already?"

"It's been over an hour," Mickey pointed out. "He knows. I switched off my phone after I texted you back. I don't want to talk to him yet."

Ian nodded. He couldn't get rid of the feeling of dread swimming around in the pit of his stomach. After Mickey had walked out of the choir room, all Ian could think about was Mickey's dad and what he might do to him once he found out what had happened.

Ian heard Mickey sniffling a little bit. He sat up and looked down at him, studying him properly for the first time since he had arrived at their field. His eyes looked puffy and dilated. His lips were redder than they should have been and he looked tired.

"Have you been crying?" Ian asked, softly.

"No."

"I thought you were done with lies," Ian pointed out.

"I am," Mickey sighed. "Okay, fine. I cried. Are you happy?"

"You think I should be happy that you cried?"

Mickey only shrugged.

"Mickey," Ian said, simply.

"What?" Mickey asked. "What do you want me to do? Should I pretend it's fine that you're cutting me into pieces every time I look at you? Should I just smile and act like I'm okay with you dumping me after you said you wouldn't? I thought I would have you when I did this, when I finally got up the courage to tell them who I am, but I don't. I mean, you're here, but you're not here, Ian. You're standing in front of me, but you're not really here, where I need you to be. It's not the same."

Ian opened his mouth to speak, but Mickey went on.

"Don't you get that I love you? That I just want to be with you? That I have nothing else in the fucking world to hold on to?" A small sob escaped Mickey's throat as he sat up to face Ian. Ian saw a single tears falling from his eye. "I have nothing left. I have no future, no real family that gives a damn and I don't have you," Mickey informed him. "I have to go home and face a raving lunatic and tell him that the things he's heard about me are true and maybe I wouldn't care as much if I still had someone that made me feel like i was worth anything. I don't know what's going to happen, Ian. I'm going to have to just take whatever he gives me, because I can't fight back and I can't just walk out of there. For one, I have nowhere to go and secondly, I can't leave my mom. I have nothing, Ian. I have nothing and my heart's in pieces and I'm just giving up. I don't have any other choice. It's over."

Ian watched as Mickey buried his face in his hands and cried, his body convulsing with uncontrollable sobs. Ian moved forward and did the only thing he could think to do: He tried to encircle him with his arms, but Mickey pulled back.

"No," he choked out. "No, you don't get to touch me and then let me go and walk away like I mean nothing to you. Don't. Don't touch me."

Ian sighed and went closer anyway. Mickey's eyes seemed to question him.

"Shut up and let me hold you, Mickey," Ian whispered, taking Mickey in his arms. Mickey's face twisted and more tears came and his body began to rock in Ian's embrace. "You could never mean nothing to me," Ian said into his hair. "Not ever."

Mickey gave in, his cries getting louder, his entire body shaking violently. Ian tried to keep him steady, to hold him together, but all he wanted to do was cry with him, cry because he was scared of what this would mean for Mickey, cry because he wanted more than anything to keep him safe, cry because he loved the boy in his arms more than anything else in the world and he couldn't tell him, couldn't have him, couldn't take him by the hand and pull him out of this field and take him to a whole other world where nothing could touch them.

Ian didn't cry, because he wanted to be strong for him, but he felt his heart contract, because he wasn't ready to let him go. He never would be.

"Come stay at my house tonight," Ian said, stroking Mickey's knuckles with his thumb.

"I—I can't."

"Yes, you can," Ian told him. "You're not ready to face him, so you don't have to. That doesn't make you a coward, Mickey, that just makes you human."

Mickey shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I know I don't have to face him if I'm not ready. I just can't be with you if—if.."

"Oh," Ian said, quietly. "I know we're not—not how we used to be, but I don't want you to go out and get yourself into trouble. I want to know you're safe."

"Why?" Mickey asked, looking as if he didn't understand.

"Why?" Ian repeated. "That's a ridiculous question, Mickey."

"I don't think it is," Mickey murmured, stubbornly.

"What would you do if the roles were reversed?" Ian asked. "Would you go home and leave me out here, when it's clearly going to rain?" Ian gestured up at the harrowing sky, threatening to cry a torrent of cold, angry tears.

"No," Mickey said, quietly. "But I also wouldn't have broken up with you. I would have tried to keep what we had, because, Ian, when something's important to you, you try to hold on to it, no matter what it takes. Clearly, I'm not important enough to you."

"You can't see where I'm coming from at all?" Ian asked. "Mickey, you are important to me. You mean the world to me, I just can't spend every day until I leave with you, because I don't know how I'll say goodbye once the time comes. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's cowardly, but it's the only thing I can think to do right now."

"I do see your side of it, you know," Mickey told him. "I just don't know how you think doing it this way makes it any easier that you're going to disappear out of my life at the end of it all. Whether we're together, or not, this isn't making anything easier, Ian. I'm hurting. I'm breaking now, Ian. I'll be breaking later. I'll be breaking for the rest of my life. I don't care when it happens, I'm still going to be broken, so why shouldn't I get to love you for as long as you're here?"

Ian frowned, because Mickey had a point. He just wasn't sure. He didn't know how he would handle it. He needed time.

"I'm not sure, Mickey, at least not yet."

Mickey sighed, then nodded. "Okay," he said, tiredly. "Fine."

"So, will you please come home with me?" Ian pleaded. "Please?"

Mickey looked sceptical for a couple of heart beats, then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay, if it'll make you happy."

"I don't know about happy," Ian told him. "But at least I'll know you're safe."

"I thought you two broke up," Frank told Ian, once Mickey had gone down to his room and switched on the TV. Ian had left him there to go get drinks and food.

"We did," Ian nodded. "But he kind of, um, came out in front of the entire glee club and football team and he can't go home. He had nowhere to go and I just thought—I just don't want him to be out on the streets all night, dad."

Frank nodded, understanding. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let him stay."

"Thanks, dad."

"D'you think he'll be okay?" Frank enquired.

"Probably not for a while," Ian said, truthfully. "But at least he'll be safe tonight, right?"

Frank only nodded.

"I hate this movie," Mickey groaned, covering his head with a pillow.

Ian smiled a bit. "Why did you pick it, then?" he asked.

"Because I feel like hating things today."

Ian frowned and sat back with a sigh.

"I didn't mean you," Mickey's muffled voice said from behind the pillow. His fingers crept across and entwined themselves in Ian's. "I could never hate you."

"Is every—oh. He's asleep," Frank said, lowering his voice.

Ian sat up a bit and paused the TV. "Yeah, he's been out for a while."

Frank nodded. "I'm going to bed, Ian," he said, with a yawn. "Will you.. You'll.."

"I get it, dad," Ian told Frank. "Nothing's going to happen."

"Okay," Frank said. "Good night, Ian." He looked down at Mickey, then, face softening. "'Night, Mickey."

Mickey didn't stir.

His mouth tasted as if he had eaten stake bread. He sat up, groggily and looked around the room, remembering where he was.

"Hey," Ian said, beside him.

Mickey turned and looked at him, then settled back against the headboard. He reached across to the can of coke on the bedside table and took a swig. It burned his throat and he coughed a bit, then sat back again, his head throbbing, like something was pressing down on top of his skull.

"We should go get drunk," he told Ian.

"No," Ian said. "We shouldn't. You can't drown out every sorrow with alcohol, Mickey."

"I can try."

"Mickey," Ian said, in a warning tone.

"Fine," Mickey sighed. "Break my heart and ruin my fun."

Mickey wished he could retract that comment the second it left his lips, but he was too tired to explain himself, so he just sat there, scowling.

"I never wanted to break your heart, Mickey."

"Yeah, it seems like it," Mickey said, not without sarcasm.

He didn't want to hurt Ian, but he was still mad about everything. His life had turned upside down in the space of a few days. He didn't know what to do any more.

"Look at me and tell me you believe this isn't hard for me, too."

Mickey turned his head and looked up into Ian's sad, blue eyes, at his down turned mouth, at his drawn, pale face, and sighed. "Okay," he said. "I know you're hurting, too, I get it. I just don't see why it has to be like this."

"I told you."

"Yeah, I know," Mickey nodded. "I still don't get it. Your logic sucks, Ian."

"What do you want from me, Mickey?"

"I want you to give us a chance," Mickey apprised him. "I want you to be as brave as I know you are and give us a chance at making something out of this, because I don't know if you heard me the first thousand and one times, but I actually love you, Ian. I love you and I can't just let you slip away without a fight, even if you can."

"You think this is easy for me, Mickey?" Ian asked. "You think that seeing you broken doesn't break me, too? Do you think I like the idea of spending the rest of forever without you?"

"You're willing to spend the rest of forever never knowing what could have been," Mickey pointed out.

He saw Ian's shoulders drop and he sat back, looking drained. Mickey wanted to go to him, hold him, kiss him, tell him he loved him, do whatever the hell it would take to get him back.

"You're miserable without me," Mickey stated. "I'm miserable without you. What's the logical thing to do here, Ian?"

Ian was silent for a little while, then said, "I know." Mickey watched him, intently. "I know, you're right, but I'm—I'm afraid, Mickey."

"So take a chance on me," Mickey sat up and took Ian's hands in his own. "Take a chance, Ian. If it doesn't work out, okay, at least we'll have tried. At least we'll know."

Ian tilted his head sideways and exhaled. "I want to, it's just.."

Mickey nodded, understanding. "I know," he said, softly. "Sometimes taking a risk feels good, Ian. I was terrified about coming out, but in the end, it was the right thing to do."

"I know," Ian smiled a bit. "I was so proud of you for what you did today. I mean, i know you were hurting and I was hurting, too, but God, that was so amazing, everything you said, you—you're so strong, Mickey."

"Hmm," Mickey laughed, half-heartedly. "I wish."

"You are," Ian urged. "You're stronger than you know."

"You're strong, too, Ian," Mickey pointed out. "If we're both strong in this, then we'll make it. We can do it. At least give us a chance. If you walk away now, we'll never know what might have happened. We'll never know. We'll never have another day just doing nothing out in the field. We'll never sit in the corner of the library making fun of the librarian's shoes. We'll never have another one of those kisses that make me feel like I can't breathe, like I'm on this rollercoaster that might just kill me, but I can't get off, because I'm addicted, because I can't get enough, because I would die rather than never do it again. We'll never have any of that and I can't bear that, Ian. I can't bear the idea of never having another day just being with you."

Ian breathed out, shakily, as Mickey moved closer.

"Take me back," he whispered. "Take my hand, take my heart, take everything. Take me back, Ian. Take me back and just let's see what happens. Take a chance on me. Take me back."

Ian's eyes were gleaming now. He was taking long, drawn-out breaths and then exhaling in stutters.

"Please, Ian," Mickey said, in a hushed tone. "Give me a chance. Take all of me, because regardless of what you decide, I'm yours. I'm always yours."

"I—Mickey," Ian uttered, as Mickey's lips came down over his own.

Mickey placed a chaste kiss to his lips and Ian seemed to melt into him.

"Please," Mickey whispered, surprised at the yearning in his own voice. "Please tell me, Ian. I need to know."

"Yes," Ian said, almost instantly "Yes, okay, yes. Let's try, let's just—yeah. I can't be without you."

"Really?" Mickey asked, breath hitching in is chest.

"Really," Ian nodded, smiling. "Time to be brave, right?"

"Yes," Mickey chuckled and pressed another kiss to Ian's mouth. "Yeah, time to be brave. I love you."

"I know," Ian told him. "I love you, too."

Mickey froze, his heart stilling in his chest. "Do you?"

"Of course, I do," Ian told him. "I've loved you far longer than you've loved me."

"You scared the crap out of me," Mickey smiled, dropping himself down over Ian's body. "You never said it back and you scared the crap out me, made me think you didn't love me."

"I was scared of giving you all of me," Ian told him. "But since we're being brave.."

"Say it again."

"I love you," Ian smiled.

Mickey lowered his mouth to Ian's pale neck. "Again."

"I love you."

Mickey dipped his mouth down to meet the pulse in Ian's neck and he sucked the skin into his mouth. "And again."

"I love you," Ian repeated and he reached down and pulled Mickey back up and caught his mouth with his. "I love you, Mickey."