Chapter 12
It was utterly strange waking up unafraid the next morning, Ian immediately noticed as he gradually regained consciousness. He could feel arms around him and a steady heartbeat against his back, but they didn't terrify him, not this time. This time, the scent of raspberry gel and body wash was somehow familiar and comforting, instead of foreign and frightening. Just the thought of Mickey holding him so tightly and yet so tenderly in his sleep made him curl a little more into his embrace, instead of recoiling in horror and disgust, the way he would have with any other man.
Ian was afraid to move, worried that even something as slight as breathing too deeply could disturb the unfamiliar feeling of safety and comfort he was cloaked in. He was afraid this was just a pleasant dream, and he would wake alone in his own bed – the same one he'd been walking in for so many lonely, horrible years.
Ian suddenly recalled his encounter with David the previous night and a shiver of dread ran down his spine. Even asleep, Mickey instinctively pulled him a little closer against his chest, sighing in contentment into the crook of Ian's shoulder, as he breathed him in. Ian's hands found Mickey's where they rested against his stomach – it was such an intimate gesture, so unlike anything Ian had ever experienced before… – and laced their fingers together, marveling at how perfectly they slotted together, like a key in a lock.
Seeing Kash had taken him back in time to when he was an innocent terrified boy who had just lost everything, only to have his innocence extinguished in the blink of an eye. There was something chilling about him, about Kash, the way he embodied his most horrible nightmares that made Ian dissolve into fear. He had to admit that he was always scared, but around him, when those lustful eyes found him and those heavy hands touched him, Ian was paralyzed with horror.
He hadn't expected to ever see him again. That had been the worst part – Kash had walked back into his life just when, for the first time in what felt like centuries, Ian was relatively happy. Was it some kind of sign? Was the universe trying to tell Ian that happiness was simply unattainable for him? Would he always go from one miserable day to the next, until one day his body gave up and his last breath escaped through his lips?
Ian didn't notice Mickey was waking up. He didn't hear his soft sigh, didn't notice the way his body shifted slightly, to be able to see him. It wasn't until Mickey wiped his tears away – tears he hadn't even realized he was crying – that Ian knew that Mickey was awake.
"Hey, hey," Mickey murmured, concerned, his voice hoarse with sleep and a crease of worry in his brow. "What's going on?"
"I'm sorry," Ian immediately apologized, pulling away in embarrassment. "I'm okay, I swear."
"Are you sure?" Mickey asked, brushing back a strand of chestnut hair from Ian's forehead with the utmost care. "There's nothing wrong with not being okay, Ian. You can tell me if something is bothering you. Especially if I did something to make you feel like…"
"You're perfect," Ian blurted, unable to stop himself, and unwilling to let Mickey believe he had screwed up in any way.
Mickey ducked his head slightly, but a smile was pulling at his lips. "I'm pretty sure I'm the opposite of perfect, but… thank you." He cupped his face in his hands, looking into Ian's eyes intently. "I'm serious, though. You can be honest with me, if you want…"
"I was just remembering what happened last night," Ian replied, and instantly clarified, so Mickey wouldn't jump to conclusions. "At the bar. With… with D-David."
"Oh." Mickey looked even more worried now. "I… I want to help you, Ian. I want to do anything I can to make you feel better. Tell me what to do."
"There's nothing you can do," Ian answered quickly, sure that not even Mickey's best intentions could help. He could've said to Mickey that he was already making everything better by being so kind, but it would be a lie. Whatever temporary comfort Mickey offered now would soon become a bitter-sweet memory that would only make Ian wish for something he would never find again. So no, there was no point in lying to himself or Mickey. "I've had to deal with what he did to me since I was eighteen. I'm just… you know, a little shaken after seeing him again, but I'll be fine. I'll always have to live with this – there isn't any magical way to erase it, to rewind time…"
"I know," Mickey said sadly. "But it doesn't make me stop wishing I could erase it, though."
Ian attempted to smile. It was a poor imitation of the bright smile he had worn so fleetingly the previous night, but Mickey was grateful for being allowed a glimpse into Ian's life. Mickey leaned down very carefully, and very slowly, giving Ian the choice to avoid him if he wanted to, but when Ian didn't show any signs of wanting to do so, he closed the distance between them and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.
Something unnamed had shifted between them. Ian was certain that there was something new there that hadn't been before. He didn't allow his heart to cling to hope, though. He didn't want to face the harsh fall that would eventually follow because just having sex with Mickey wasn't going to shake up the foundations of his world, after all.
Mickey's eyes held a deeper honey shade that morning, as he stared intently at Ian. He could easily lose himself in those amber pools, watching the flecks of green and golden dancing around his iris, the way his long eyelashes painted soft shadows in his cheekbones. Mickey was so incredibly beautiful, inside and out, and Ian knew he could be a distraction – the best of distractions. Until they parted and went their separate ways, Mickey could make him forget his real life for a little bit. Anything was better than reliving the bad memories haunting his dreams. It was going to hurt when it ended – but for now, he would allow himself to take a break from his own horrible existence. This treasure trove of loving memories would help through whatever remained of his life, through dark days and even darker nights, where the light of hope and happiness had been extinguished a long, long time ago.
He was going to lock away the memory of how Mickey looked at him in such a loving way, in a way no one had looked at him, since his father died. As he stroked Ian's hair and placed sweet little kisses on his face, Mickey ignited a glow in him brighter than any light.
There was something achingly sweet in the way Mickey regarded him now, the way he looked at him, or squeezed his hand or brushed his fingertips across his cheekbones. It seemed spontaneous and natural, as if he couldn't help drawing closer to Ian. In any other circumstances, with any other man, any other day, Ian would have withdrawn and immediately built a protective wall around himself. But not this time, not with Mickey. Now, Ian allowed himself to enjoy the gentle touch of a man who cared for him and simply leaned even more against his side as they left Mickey's bedroom to go downstairs for breakfast.
As they entered the kitchen together, Ian was aware of the warm weight of Mickey's arm around his waist. It was comforting in a way a man's touch had never been before. It seemed so incredible that Mickey could turn all of his fears and reservations into something that Ian could actually enjoy.
The three other Milkovichs were already sitting at the table. They took the two adjoining spots reserved for them as they greeted the family. "Good morning."
"Good morning, boys," Grace said with a welcoming smile. "Coffee's still hot."
Mickey poured a cup for Ian before pouring some for himself. "Would you like some crêpes, sweetheart?"
Ian startled a bit at the endearment, used so openly in front of everyone else, because for the first time, it didn't feel dishonest. He smiled at Mickey, feeling warmth settling in his chest. "Yes, please."
Mickey put some crêpes onto his plate before serving his own breakfast. Iggy watched them with a smirk, but neither of them noticed it.
"Are your clothes all ready for tonight, boys?" Grace asked, looking at the three of them alternatively.
"Yes, Mom," Iggy and Mickey answered at the same time.
"Uhm," Ian hesitated. He hadn't owned a suit in years and just now realized that what he'd planned to wear wasn't suitable for the party. "I think I left mine behind when we left your apartment..." He said anxiously to Mickey.
"Oh no," Grace seemed horrified, as if nothing could be worse.
"I'm sure one of mine would work, Mom," Iggy interrupted. "He'd probably rather borrow one of his boyfriend's, but since Mickey is midget size..."
"Hey!" Mickey exclaimed, frowning in annoyance.
"We can look through my closet after breakfast," Iggy said, with a gentle smile that looked like a peace offering.
Ian knew any suit of Iggy's would hang on him, because despite their being almost the same height, he was so terribly skinny... "Thanks, Iggy."
"No problem," Iggy winked at him and went back to his breakfast.
"We'll have to find a nice blue tie for you," Grace murmured, thoughtfully. "To match your lovely eyes. If none of Iggy's suits fit perfectly, we can always stop by the mall..."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to cause any trouble," Ian immediately replied. Even with the money Mickey had given him, he couldn't afford to buy a suit.
"Don't be silly, Ian, dear," Grace said affectionately, and Ian felt Mickey flinching at his side. "It wouldn't be trouble at all. We all know shopping is my thing."
Ian leaned a little closer to Mickey, their shoulders brushing gently, silently asking if something was wrong. Was he worried that his clothes would embarrass him? Mickey simply kissed his cheek and nuzzled against the soft hair behind his ear for a second.
Iggy's smirk got even bigger. "I'm betting someone got lucky last night."
Ian flinched uncomfortably this time, and Mickey put a hand on his thigh as he turned to glare at his brother. "Iggy, don't be such a dick."
"Funny how the first word that came to your mind was dick..." Iggy mumbled playfully.
"Iggy, leave your brother and Ian alone," their father said severely.
"Hey, I'm just teasing..." Iggy shrugged.
"Well, I don't appreciate it," Mickey said harshly. Ian decided to say something before Mickey got even more upset.
"It's okay, honey," he nudged Mickey with his shoulder. Using the endearment felt so foreign and yet so right at the same time. "You know how he loves pushing your buttons."
"I was just noticing that you two are awfully cozy this morning, so you probably..."
"That's enough, Iggy," Grace cut him off. She got up and gathered her cup and plate. "Play nice, boys. I have a few phone calls to make. If you need to go to the mall, let me know, Ian," she added with one last smile in Ian's direction.
Ian could've sworn Mickey flinched again.
A few minutes later, it was only Iggy and them at the table, but the teasing was over. They finished eating as they chatted about random things (mostly related to Iggy) and then Mickey put their dishes in the sink to rinse them, stopping Ian from rising to help him with a little kiss to the top of his head and a sweet whisper of "I got it, don't worry."
"What color of suit do you prefer?" Iggy asked as he lazily stretched his arms over his head. "I'm wearing black. I have two grey ones, a blue one and another black one. It shouldn't be hard to find one you like that fits you. Though you're ridiculously thin, I must say. Do you have ambitions to be a model, or something? Because I know a guy, who knows a guy that can get you into the business…"
"Oh, uhm..." Ian fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable that Iggy had pointed out the obvious.
"Mom has a sewing machine somewhere in the house, so feel free if you need to make any alterations..." Iggy continued, obliviously.
"No, Iggy, I wouldn't ruin one of your suits," Ian said, eyes wide as saucers.
"Don't worry about it. It's not like I don't have dozens more back in Los Angeles. And according to what Mom says about your fashion skills, you wouldn't be ruining anything. Just putting something I don't need to good use," Iggy replied, surprisingly gently.
"Just say yes," Mickey added encouragingly, standing behind Ian's chair and putting his hands on his shoulders. "Otherwise, I'll just take you shopping and buy a new suit for you..."
"Fine," Ian agreed, rolling his eyes. "I'll see what I can do."
"Fantastic," Iggy grinned, his blazingly white teeth almost blinding them all. "Let's go up to my room and see what we can find."
Ian chose a nice dark blue suit that only needed some slight modifications. Grace gave him her sewing machine and they put it on a desk in Mickey's bedroom so he could work on it. Ian found the vibrations of the sewing machine strangely calming. He pushed away the memories of how his father would come up and knock on his door and tell him to go eat before dinner went cold and finish later. Instead, he recalled each of the fabulous outfits he had crafted on his own sewing machine to wear to school, on innumerable nights.
He forced away the sadness and the tears just as the door opened and Mickey returned from helping his father with something downstairs. He clearly had to avoid being alone, if it resulted in him taking a painful walk down memory lane.
"Hi," Mickey smiled brightly at him. Ian couldn't stop a smile of his own from blooming on his face. "Iggy says his shirts are huge on you. I'm sure I have a spare white one that should fit you."
"Thank you," Ian said quietly. His teenage self would've been terribly sad that he didn't even own a decent suit and dress shirt anymore.
The sound of the sewing machine filled the silence in the room, while Mickey busied himself looking for the shirt in his closet. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, Ian discovered. He had never known what people meant when they said they didn't need to talk to be comfortable with someone. Mickey was showing him things that he had never thought he would experience; things he hadn't understood until now.
Mickey was unlike any of the men Ian had met in his life.
"Here it is," Mickey said, closing the closet doors. He put the shirt down on the bed. "You should try it on when you get a chance. It needs some ironing, because I haven't worn it in a while."
A warm tingle made its way down Ian's spine at the thought of wearing something of Mickey's. He knew he was being ridiculous, getting so excited about something so silly. "Thanks, Mickey. I'll try it on in a minute. I just want to finish with the hems."
"Of course." Mickey sat on the edge of the bed and Ian immediately noticed that there was something stiff and tense in his posture. "I... do you think we could talk?"
Ian felt as if he had been unexpectedly pushed into an icy lake. Of course. Of course he was going to regret everything. Why would he want something with you? You're just a whore and he's such an amazingly great guy…
"Ian?" Mickey tilted his head to the side when Ian didn't reply. He frowned.
"Yes," Ian said stiffly, his voice just as cold as his body suddenly felt.
Mickey blinked in confusion. "Uhm. Okay, I... well, I may be about to ruin everything if we're not on the same page, but I..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I want to tell my family the truth."
That was definitely not what Ian was expecting to hear. He had been gripping the edge of the desk, waiting for his heart to be broken once again, but instead...
"What?" He asked, unsure of where Mickey was going with this.
"I don't want to lie anymore," Mickey replied with a tired sigh. "I want to be honest. Hearing them call you Ian during breakfast this morning... it just felt so wrong."
"But... that's what you wanted," Ian was trying so hard to understand. Mickey had gone to all the trouble of planning this, of bringing him here... and now he was just going to tell them the truth?
"It was. But now there's something I want even more," Mickey's eyes were boring into his, burning with emotion. He walked to the desk, taking Ian's hand in his to pull him up. He guided him back to the bed, where they both sat, facing each other. "Ian, I... I was being very honest last night when I told you I really care about you. You're an amazing person, and I'd love to spend more time with you. I... I may be risking getting my heart broken again if I've been reading this the wrong way, but... I really like you. I don't want this, whatever it is between us, to end when this week is over."
Ian's hand had gone limp in Mickey's, and his mind had gone completely numb. He felt as if his whole body was about to float off the bed. There was a buzzing sound in his head and he could barely breathe in and out.
"I want to be with you," Mickey muttered quietly, with an edge of fear in his voice, fear that Ian would reject him. "And I don't want my family to think you're someone you're not. I want them to know the real Ian, the man that keeps taking my breath away since the moment we met."
Ian knew he was supposed to say something, he could see the eagerness in Mickey's eyes, but he didn't know what to say or even how to form words. Mickey squeezed his hand delicately as if urging him to put him out of his misery.
"I don't know how to be with someone," was the first thing out of his mouth. He slowly removed his hand from Mickey's. "Not in the way you want me to. I'm... Mickey, I'm not the kind of guy you want to have an actual relationship with."
"Isn't that for me to decide?" Mickey asked sadly, already feeling Ian pull away from him. "Ian, just... forget for one second what you do for a living and what that's done to you, and tell me the truth. If you don't want me because you don't feel the same way about me, I'll understand. But if you're pushing me away because of something that I definitely wish had never happened to you, but that doesn't change my feelings in the slightest, then I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you walk away because of that. I'm not letting you hurt both of us just because you think you're not good enough."
Ian wrapped his arms around his own shaking frame in a desperate attempt to hold himself together. Mickey's words held the promise of everything Ian had ever wanted right there for him to take. But he was afraid – so many years of pain had convinced him there was no happily-ever-after waiting for him, no matter how wonderful this offer sounded. However, as he looked into Mickey's hopeful eyes, he realized Mickey would never lie to him, would never use him. The previous night had shattered all his walls, and now Mickey sat in front of him and opened up a new world of possibilities.
Broken, Ian had to admit that he didn't know how to tell a man that he cared for him, that he returned his feelings, that he was willing to risk what little he had left of his heart for him. He had never learnt the appropriate words. Ian was familiar with hate and rejection, but he had long ago forgotten what it was like to feel love and let himself be loved.
He did the next best thing he was capable of. "I... I don't want your family to know what I really am," he looked into Mickey's eyes, his own blue ones pleading and sad.
"Okay. Not if you're not comfortable with telling them," Mickey answered gently. "Though I'm sure they wouldn't judge you, if they knew the whole story."
"Still," Ian insisted. "I'd feel better if you're the only one who knows and... and if you're not disgusted by it, then that's enough for me."
Mickey cupped his face lovingly and smiled reassuringly. "I think you're very brave," he murmured, shocking Ian with those words. "Anyone else would've given up long ago, but you did what you had to do to survive. They bent you, but you didn't let them break you. I'm not, and I could never be disgusted by you. They disgust me, because they knew what they were doing to you and they didn't care."
Ian leaned into the palm of his hand. "You're so good to me..." He looked at him, blue eyes searching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be easy."
"Things that are worth it are never easy," Mickey replied sweetly. "But they are definitely worth fighting for..."
"If you change your mind..." Ian started saying, knowing he would always need to be ready for the heartache.
"Ian, please," Mickey rested their foreheads together and closed his eyes. "I can't promise you forever, but I sure as hell will do everything I can to give it to you."
Ian could feel the dam that held his emotions back beginning to break. He exhaled shakily and let his arms fall from around himself. "Mickey?"
"Yes, sweetheart?" Mickey whispered.
"Kiss me."
Mickey didn't have to be asked twice. He claimed Ian's lips with his softly, caressing them with chaste kisses before going for a deeper one. Ian let himself imagine a lifetime of kisses like these, full of sweetness and love, instead of what he'd known until now. He moved closer and hugged Mickey's shoulders tightly, wishing he never had to let go. He desperately wanted to believe in the quiet promises he had made. He wanted to find happiness with Mickey, to find love.
"Thank you," Mickey murmured against his lips when they parted. "I know it's hard for you to trust anyone, but thank you darling, for giving me this."
"Don't break me," Ian found himself saying, feeling small and vulnerable. He looked at him with wide eyes. "Don't break me, Mickey. I don't know if I could survive if it happened again..."
"I won't," Mickey smiled and kissed his lips, his cheekbones, his nose, his forehead.
And Ian, surprisingly, believed him.
They held each other for a while, needing to feel the other close as their hearts began to synchronize, and beat in unison. Ian let Mickey play with his hair while he tried to get used to the idea of letting a man be this close to him, while he tried not to be terrified of what could happen next. It was different, but it definitely wasn't an unwelcomed change.
"I should get my family together and talk to them before they have to start getting ready," Mickey said eventually, though he didn't move.
Ian tightened his arms around him. "I don't think it's a good idea to tell them now."
Mickey frowned and looked down to where Ian was resting against his chest. "Are you... having second thoughts?"
"No," Ian answered without hesitation. "I'm just worried about encroaching on a day that's so clearly important for them. Even if they take it well, it'll cause some sort of impact and today should be for your parents to enjoy. Your mom was really excited about tonight."
Mickey sighed. "I know. You're right. I just... I hate that they keep calling you Ian."
"We can tell them tomorrow," Ian said soothingly, intertwining their fingers. "Together. That way they'll have time to think about it and we can discuss it calmly later on, without a thousand people around."
"Okay," Mickey immediately agreed, apparently happy that Ian wanted to be a part of we and us. "Whatever you're comfortable with."
Ian hid his face in Mickey's neck and yawned, lazily. "I should finish with the suit."
"No, we should stay just like this," Mickey hummed contentedly. "We both know you can wear a cheap, baggy sack and still be the most handsome man at that party tonight."
Ian felt his cheeks reddening in pleased bashfulness. "Don't let Iggy hear you say that or he'll throw a fit..."
Mickey chuckled. "He'll have to get used to second place and be grateful you don't live in Hollywood."
Ian didn't respond for a few seconds, but then he shifted to place a quick kiss on Mickey's jaw. "Thank you."
Mickey looked down at him, confused. "What for?"
"I think I'm starting to remember what it is like to be happy," Ian replied quietly. "I haven't felt like this since before my Dad died."
Mickey smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. "I want you to always be happy. Thank you for giving me a chance to help you with that."
Ian only had time to smile back at him before there was a knock on the door and then Grace was coming into the room.
"Oh, boys. I'm sorry," she said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"It's fine. What is it, Mom?" Mickey asked, still stroking Ian's hair.
"I found some beautiful blue ties for you, Ian, dear," she put a few on the bed next to the shirt Mickey had found for him earlier. "I hope you'll find one you like. If not, let me know. I think Iggy has a few more."
"These are all beautiful. Thank you, Grace," Ian replied, smiling a genuine smile that even Grace noticed something was different, though she didn't say anything.
"You're very welcome, dear," Grace looked at them both warmly. "I'll come back later to see if you need help with the suit. I have a few last minute details to take care of now, so I'll leave you two alone."
"Thanks, Mom. Let me know if you need anything," Mickey said as she walked back to the door.
"Oh, I can ask Iggy for help, if I need anything. Don't worry." She blew them both a kiss and then closed the door behind her.
They allowed themselves a few more minutes of closeness, until Ian reluctantly confessed that he really needed to work on the suit or it wouldn't be ready on time. Mickey gave him one more sweet kiss and told him he would take Nayla for a walk so he wouldn't be in the way while Ian worked. Ian watched him walk out of the room, amazed that any of this was happening to him.
Ian Gallagher was starting to find his way back to happiness and, though he wasn't nearly ready to admit it, he was also falling in love.
He smiled delightedly and got back to work.
With a deep breath, Ian finally looked up and found his reflection in the mirror.
He was shocked as he allowed his eyes to roam over his image. The alterations he had made to Iggy's dark blue suit were flawless. The fabric hugged his body in all the right places, hiding the evidence of his jutting bones and making him look healthier and broader. His carefully styled hair looked shiny and soft, sweeping up from his forehead. The beautiful tie he'd chosen from the ones Grace had offered him, striped in shades of blue, complimented the suit and brightened his eyes perfectly. Despite how long it had been since he had worn a tie, he hadn't forgotten how to make a perfect knot.
But what he liked the most was the classic white shirt that belonged to Mickey, it's familiar raspberry scent comforting him. Even if Mickey had told him he hadn't worn it in a while, he imagined it felt like being constantly held in his arms.
Ian rolled his eyes at himself. Mickey was turning him back into the hopeless romantic he had once been.
"Can I come in?" Mickey's voice came from the hallway. "I forgot my shoes!"
"Sure, come in," Ian said, as he ran his hands down the jacket to smooth away any remaining wrinkles.
Mickey stepped into the room, looking simply stunning. He was already dressed in his gorgeous light grey suit, combined with a black shirt and a green bowtie that made his eyes pop. His curls were gelled down and tamed and Ian couldn't help but be reminded of a 1950s movie star.
Ian crossed the room to where Mickey had stopped barely one foot inside. He placed his hands on his chest, admiring him. "You look beautiful."
Mickey blushed and ducked his head, bashful. "Thank you. But... you. Ian... you're absolutely gorgeous."
Ian let a pleased smile dance over his lips. "We could play this game all night or just accept we both look fabulous and go downstairs before your Mom sends Iggy looking for us."
Mickey laughed and stood on his toes to kiss Ian's mouth. "Just let me get my shoes, okay?"
Ian took another look at himself in the mirror while Mickey sat on the bed to put his shoes on. He couldn't remember the last time he had looked so... alive. For a long time, Ian had avoided looking at his own reflection, disgusted by what he found. Now, he could see a young man who had had to struggle for many years, but who was finally finding the right path.
Mickey slipped his arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. He hooked his chin on Ian's shoulder and glanced at him adoringly. "Will you dance with me tonight?"
Ian put his hand on top of his where they were linked on his stomach. Mickey laced their fingers together instantly. "Of course."
When they went downstairs, the first few guests were starting to arrive, but it didn't take long before the party was in full swing. It was an elegant affair – it had been organized by Grace Milkovich, after all. There was a gourmet buffet on one end of the living room and nicely dressed waitresses wandering around the room with trays, offering drinks. Most people were standing in groups, chatting amicably, and only a few had ventured to dance already. A pianist was sitting at the baby grand in the corner, filling the house with beautiful melodies.
Ian was introduced simply as Mickey's boyfriend, and they both avoided mentioning his false name as much as possible. Mickey was constantly by his side, their arms linked as they walked around greeting relatives and old family friends, and Ian had a hard time not picturing giving parties just like this for the next ten or twenty years. It made him warm inside to think he could still be there for them.
When the introductions were over, they realized they were starving. They had been so busy helping Mickey's parents with the last minute details for the party, that they hadn't eaten anything for hours. They walked towards the buffet and grabbed two plates.
"Doing okay so far?" Mickey asked him quietly as they browsed the food options.
Ian smiled at him reassuringly. "Yes, everyone's been very nice so far."
"Everyone here are supporters of LGBT rights," Mickey informed him. "My parents stopped socializing with anyone who had a problem with gay people once I came out. So if you're concerned about that..."
"I'm not concerned," Ian answered, putting a hand on Mickey's arm and squeezing lightly. "You make me feel so safe."
Mickey's smile was brighter than any of the lights in the room. He knew that coming from Ian, there wasn't a bigger compliment.
He leaned in and kissed Ian's lips chastely. "Try the salmon tartlets. They're my favorites and they're always delicious."
Ian smiled back as he put one of the tartlets on his plate. For the next few minutes, they stood against a wall and ate, people-watching (more like Iggy-watching. It was incredibly entertaining watching him flirt with every woman in the room, including the waitresses), and chatted about everything and anything. Grace stopped by at one point and asked them if they were enjoying themselves before being whisked away by one of her best friends.
Terry joined them as they were finishing tasting the pate canapés and smiled at them warmly. "Everything going okay, boys?"
"Yes, it's a beautiful party," Ian said, since Mickey had his mouth full.
"I'm glad you're having fun," Terry said, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'm afraid I need to steal your date for a few minutes, though, if you don't mind."
"Oh! No, please, go ahead," Ian replied and Mickey gave him his plate before he walked away with his dad.
He watched as Terry guided Mickey to the piano and the pianist stood up when the man leaned to speak quietly to him. Then Mickey took his place, touching the keys gently, eliciting a very low sound. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.
"Good evening everyone," he said, smiling at his audience. "As most of you know, my parents always ask me to perform one of their favorite songs for their anniversary, and this year is no exception. I would also like to take this opportunity to congratulate them and thank them for a perfect example of a happy marriage. They've taught me what love is and how amazing it can be when you share it with the right person."
His eyes fell on Ian from across the room and Ian could feel his heart melting.
"Now, I'm sure my brother has a speech ready for later..."
"Of course I do!" Iggy exclaimed and everyone laughed, including Mickey.
"... So that's why I'm going to be brief. It's enough to have one of the Milkovich boys boring you all to death," Mickey continued and he played a few notes on the piano. "This is for my parents. Thank you, mom and dad, for everything. And, if you don't mind me breaking the tradition, I would also like to dedicate this song to my beautiful boyfriend."
Ian had to hold the edge of the buffet table next to him to stop himself from falling. His legs suddenly seemed made of jelly. When he had been just a kid, daydreaming in his old bedroom, he would fantasize about a beautiful boy serenading him and making him feel special, just like a Disney prince. Many years and heartbreaks later, Ian found his dream coming true. It was difficult to fight the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.
Mickey began playing. It was a soft, beautiful melody, that Ian recognized after just a few seconds, because he could still picture his own mother moving around the kitchen and listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing this same song. Ian's heart clenched in a mixture of sadness and happiness and this time, there was no way to hold the tears back.
It's not the pale moon that excites me
That thrills and delights me, oh no
It's just the nearness of you
It isn't your sweet conversation
That brings this sensation, oh no
It's just the nearness of you
Ian could see his father walking into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his mother from behind and taking her by surprise. Then they swayed with the music, always smiling and full of love.
When you're in my arms
And I feel you so close to me
All my wildest dreams come true
I need no soft lights to enchant me
If you'll only grant me the right
To hold you ever so tight
And to feel in the night the nearness of you
Grace and Terry were dancing slowly, holding each other but looking at their son with proud, gleeful smiles on their faces. Ian felt part of it all and an outsider at the same time. Even though what Mickey and he shared now went beyond a business deal of sorts, they were still lying to everyone. But they soon would reveal the truth, and even if at the beginning no one accepted them, Ian was somehow certain that everything would be alright. That he would be at the Milkovichs' anniversary party again the following year, watching Mickey play the piano and remembering how weird everything had been the last time.
Mickey had seen him at his worst - working a corner in the streets; succumbing to Kash's brutality the previous night; weak, broken and scared - and yet, he still wanted to be with him. He had just dedicated a love song to him in front of everyone he knew.
When you're in my arms
And I feel you so close to me
All my wildest dreams come true
I need no soft lights to enchant me
If you'll only grant me the right
To hold you ever so tight
And to feel in the night the nearness of you
The nearness of you…
Ian thought again of his parents dancing in the kitchen, immensely happy and in love, and for the first time in his life, Ian believed he could actually have that, too.
Mickey finished the song and everyone clapped and cheered, making him blush and nod in thanks before quickly crossing the room back to where Ian was eagerly waiting for him.
"Hey. Did you like it?" Mickey asked.
Ian wiped his tears away. "It was absolutely wonderful."
Frowning in concern, Mickey took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried tears Ian himself. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
Ian laughed and cried at the same time, shaking his head at himself for being so ridiculous. "Nothing. I… it's just that it really was so wonderful. It's the first time someone's ever sung anything dedicated to me, and it was everything I could've ever wanted..."
"I'll always have a song for you," Mickey murmured sweetly, and grabbed Ian's hand, dropping a little kiss to the center of his palm.
"You also promised you'd dance with me," Ian reminded him. He needed to be held and feel Mickey close to him, and nothing provided him with a better excuse than dancing.
"Well, I'm a man of my word," Mickey replied, grinning at him in the most charming way. He offered his hand to Ian, who immediately accepted and allowed Mickey to guide him to the area of the living room designated as the dance floor.
The pianist had gone back to his place and was now playing another soft, jazzy song. Mickey's arms were strong and solid around Ian's waist, pressing their bodies together. Ian wrapped his arms around his neck and rested their foreheads together. His heart was still beating wildly after Mickey's performance. He wondered if it would ever stop feeling as if it would jump right out of his chest and into Mickey's hands.
Ian relaxed into his arms and closed his eyes, still unable to believe that this night was real. "Twenty four hours ago I was facing my worst nightmare again, and now I'm here, with you, dancing and… everything feels so perfect. How is that even possible? How can life contrast itself every single day, until we have no idea what's waiting for us around the corner?"
"Some would say that it's the not knowing what is ahead that makes life interesting and worth living," Mickey answered quietly, speaking almost into his ear. "Despite all the bad things that happen to us, we never know when something good is going to come along to change everything either."
"I'm not so sure about that," Ian murmured, as he tightened his hold on Mickey. "I think not knowing what's ahead makes everything scarier. Life could always take a turn for the worse… it usually does, in my experience."
Mickey turned his head to press his lips against Ian's temple. "Don't, Ian. Don't think about him tonight. Don't let him ruin this for you."
"I'm with you," Ian whispered, and it sounded reassuring, comforting, as if that thought that could protect him from his fears and doubts.
Mickey smiled and pulled him even closer. "You're with me."
They danced in silence for a few more minutes, simply enjoying being together like this, until Iggy decided it was time for his speech and the music came to an end. It was a sweet speech and both Ian and Mickey listened to him with smiles on their faces. But after fifteen minutes, they were about ready to tackle Iggy to the ground to shut him up.
"Is he using lines from movies?" Ian asked frowning, leaning closer to Mickey. "I'm sure that last one was from Sleepless in Seattle."
"Yup," Mickey said with a tired sigh. "He does it every year. At least he isn't singing Céline Dion songs this time…"
"And now, I would like to perform the classic from the 1997 film, Titanic, My Heart Will Go On…"
"Oh, damn it," Mickey huffed and dropped his head on Ian's shoulder, as Ian's frame shook with silent laughter.
They danced for a few more songs and then Ian couldn't stay away from the deserts table for another minute, so they stood there, sampling chocolates and baby cupcakes until Iggy joined them.
"Hey guys," he smiled and took a strawberry from a large crystal bowl to dip it in the chocolate fondue.
"Hey, Igg. Are you getting bored with chasing the waitresses yet?" Mickey asked with a teasing grin of his own.
"Not at all," Iggy replied. "In fact, there's a good chance I'll be leaving with that beautiful brunette once this soiree is over…" He sent a wink to the girl who was across the room, and they watched her blush and smile coyly.
"You're unbelievable," Mickey murmured, shaking his head fondly. "Do you even know the girl's name?"
"I'm pretty sure it's something with an N, but I'll get back to you on that," Iggy said lightly, as he reached for another strawberry.
Ian put his plate down. "I need to use the little boys' room. I'll be back in a minute." He kissed Mickey's cheek and then disappeared, weaving amongst the crowd and out to the hallway.
Mickey watched him until he was gone and then let out a colossal sigh that got Iggy's attention diverted from the cute waitress for a moment.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this enthralled with another guy before," he commented, thoughtfully.
"Well, he's really something special," Mickey leaned against the wall and glanced at Iggy. "I've never wanted anything as much as I want this relationship to work."
"So, are you gonna ask him to marry you then?" Iggy asked, tilting his head to the side and focusing on his little brother.
"Well, maybe not yet," Mickey chuckled and rolled his eyes. Ian would freak out and run away if he proposed today. "But I can see us getting married someday in the future…"
"Oh, B." Iggy punched him on the arm. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to…"
"Mickey!" A breathless voice said and they both turned to find a new guest standing in front of them. Mickey stopped breathing and his eyes went wide as saucers. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought I'd never make it here on time."
Iggy extended his hand, looking at the newcomer curiously. "I don't think we've met. I'm Iggy."
The man smiled brightly at him and accepted his hand, shaking it firmly. "It's nice to finally meet you, Iggy. I've heard a lot about you. I'm Ian, Mickey's boyfriend."
Iggy dropped his hand and turned to look at his brother, completely bewildered.
Mickey could see this beautiful, perfect night crumbling to pieces right before his eyes.