Ian surges forward and grabs Mickey, pulling the older boy on top of him before pressing their bodies together and breathing into each other's mouths.
Mickey grins wickedly before leaning down and pressing his lips to Ian's. He slid his fingers under the hem of Ian's shirt and runs his hands up Ian's chest. Ian reciprocates, putting his own hands up the back of Mickey's tee and running his thumbs up and down along Mickey's spine.
The kissing already has Mickey gasping, grinding down onto Ian's lap. Ian grins into Mickey's mouth, goes immediately for his fly, unzipping it and sliding his hand inside Mickey's underwear.
"Wait, Jesus," Mickey laughed breathlessly, regretfully pulling Ian's hand away. He didn't stop moving his hips, which had Ian growl lowly. "I'm not trying to get caught, Gallagher."
"We won't-"
"We will." Mickey sighed and climbed off of Ian, zipping his fly back up. He stood there for a minute, watching Ian as he tried re-collecting himself by straightening his shirt and adjusting himself in his pants.
"Sleep?" Ian asked, looking up.
Mickey cleared his throat, meeting Ian's eyes. "Yeah."
With a small smile Ian laid down across the bed, pulling the covers up his body. He gave Mickey a daring look that said come if you want, but also said nobody's judging you. Mickey wanted to, fuck of course he did, but he can't. The thought of someone catching him in bed with another guy, even if they're just sleeping, made him feel sick to the stomach. He'd never really seen the outcome of a situation like that, but there's no fucking way it wouldn't be hell. Instead Mickey averted his eyes and moved to make a spot on the ground.
"Jesus, Mickey," Ian sighed with an annoyed expression as he sat up on the bed. He pulled Mickey's arm, lightly, and pushed him until he was on the bed. "You ain't gotta sleep with me, but there's no way you're sleeping on the ground."
Mickey's lips twitched fondly as he watched Ian make a spot for himself next to the bed. Finally he laid down, glancing up at Mickey who was just staring at him and winked. Mickey rolled his eyes and kicked Ian's leg, laying down across the bed. "Fag."
He heard Ian chuckle lowly. After a pause, Ian asked, "How long?"
"Can I get some fuckin' sleep, Gallagher?"
"C'mon Mick, just tell me. I risked my life today, thought you were gonna kill me for even touching you."
Mickey didn't answer. He waited a while, staring at the wall and breathing in Ian's scent off the pillow. "Few years."
"Me too," Ian breathed. "I think I was fourteen? Yeah, must've been fourteen. I don't know man, boobs are weird."
"Not that bad." Mickey needed a cigarette. Or better yet, some fucking sleep. He slowly closed his eyes.
"You're not that bad." Mickey's eyes opened, his chest fluttering at Ian's words in joy. He felt a small smile pull at his lips and suddenly felt like a fourteen year old girl being told her crush likes her back. "Even though you gave me blue balls."
The kick to his dick said otherwise as Ian groaned and covered his groin in pain. Mickey snorted against the pillow. "Now they're black and blue balls."
-
-
"That's for you, Milkovich!"
The man's breath smelt like alcohol and crappy weed. His gritty fingers pressed into Mickey as he held him against the wall.
The knife was being dragged across Mickey's neck, his chest, his stomach. A daring promise glazing across his skin, waiting to make a mark. Mickey held his breath as the man wrapped his hands around Mickey's neck, and squeezed.
He heard cries, shouts, yells. He heard Maria's voice, inaudible but clearly angry. He heard Iggy, shouting threats. He heard Mandy's rare cries. But he saw, he saw Colin. There he was, leaning against the brick wall of the damp alley only meters away with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. Mickey recognized that look. That 'you should have listened to me' look. He wasn't moving to help Mickey, but then again, neither was the rest of his family.
"We gotta go," a voice whispered in his ear. "Now! Now!"
"But Mickey!" Ian, thank god. Ian.
He tried calling for help, but his throat was occupied by being choked. He suddenly couldn't breathe. He was really dying.
"We have to leave him!" The voice whispered, a hissing noise. He heard Ian's loud cries of protest.
"I won't leave him!"
He felt the knife sink into his stomach slowly, painfully. He glanced down, staring at the blood gushing out as the knife went deeper. Like a mantra, the words sang in his head.
"That's for you, Milkovich!"
Mickey jolted awake, gasping. His hands immediately came to rest upon the scar on his stomach as he gushed out a breath of air. He glanced down at Ian who was peacefully asleep on the floor. He could hear Liam's and Carl's snores as well, but no Lip. Which wasn't surprising, the kid wasn't usually home anyway. He stared at Ian a while longer, admiring the boy's pale complexion in contrast with his red hair.
He checked the time. 7:05 am on a Saturday. Nobody was waking up anytime soon. Mickey closed his eyes, tried to get some more sleep, but ended up giving in and just rolling off the bed to go use the bathroom. While washing his hands he noticed the large bruise on his jaw and sighed. His hand hit his hip as he dried his hands, making him hiss out in pain. He lifted his shirt and raised his eyebrows at the finger print bruises across his pale skin. His chest filled with something, something good. Ian left marks on him, he marked him.
Finally he got out just as Lip got in, looking wasted and worn out as fuck. "Gotta grow up eventually," Mickey grunted as a reminder to the boy. Lip rolled his eyes and gave the finge, then rushed into the bathroom, and it wasn't long before the sound of puking followed.
Mickey went down to the kitchen and set the coffee. He thought about his dream as he waited, which wasn't a usual occurrence since he mostly would rather pretend those unconsciously fucked up thoughts never really happened. This was his first dream that involved Ian. Shit.
"Up early?"
Mickey looked up and shrugged at Fiona who had Liam on her hip. She put the toddler down on the kitchen chair and took eggs and milk out of the fridge. "Pass me the cereal from up there. Sleep well?"
"Yeah," Mickey replied, too tired to fight and bitch. Instead he did as Fiona asked and retrieved the cereal from the shelf. "Gonna go see Maria now. Try to find Colin and sort this shit out."
"That's a good idea," Fiona said as he poured cereal into a bowl and added milk. She put it in front of Liam who immediately dug in. "You should take Lip and Ian with you. They're good help."
"If I do that, it'll look like I'm trying to start a fuckin' fight and that won't help at all," Mickey sighed. He poured himself some coffee. "Nobody's gotta get hurt. When I see Terry, that's when shit might get real."
"How do you know you won't run into him today?"
"I don't," Mickey pursed his lips and gave a sarcastic laugh. "If I do, I'll either come back or I wont. All I know is, none of that is apart of the plan."
Fiona nodded as she cracked a few eggs into a bowl. "So," she said after a while. "You talked to Ian last night, right?"
Mickey hid his twitching lips with the coffee mug. Talked. "I guess."
"He was really... I don't know, fucked up about the you gettin' stabbed thing," Fiona mumbled as she looked Mickey in the eye. "I don't wanna know, but just- don't hurt him? Okay?"
Mickey's jaw clenched as he dropped the mug so hard on the counter it almost cracked. "I ain't no fucking fag," he spat, grabbing his coat as he pushed past Fiona.
"I wasn't-"
"I'm not a fag." Mickey stopped by the counter to look Fiona directly in the eyes. Fiona's eyes twitched to the stairs before flickering back to Mickey. Mickey turned his head to see a tired Ian standing at the bottom of the stairs with a look of disgust on his face. Mickey's heart clenched as Ian turned and ran back upstairs. He turned back to Fiona who gave him a straight, unimpressed face. "I'm not gay."
-
-
"Hey Mickey, drink?" Kev asked as Mickey walked into the Alibi.
"Where's Terry?"
"Got out of prison yesterday, got shit faced and left," Kev shrugged. He poured Mickey a shot anyway. "Probably back at your house."
Mickey took the shot and bolted.
-
-
"Jesus," Mickey blurted when Maria opened the door. He eyed her bruised face up and down. "Terry home?"
"No," Maria hissed. Her hand clenched the door. "But he's around if you're looking to beat the shit out of him."
"Why would I do that?"
Maria scoffed. "Because he hit your mother. Look at what he did to me."
Mickey shrugged, "Welcome to the south side, bitch. Where's Jamie?"
"Fuck did you call me?" Maria yelled, pushing at Mickey's chest. "Fuck did you fucking call your mother?!"
"Chill the fuck out!"
"I gave you everything!" Maria screamed, tears falling down her cheeks. "You were my favourite! I loved you! I took care of you when you were sick! All I want, el nene, is too take care of you. Look at you, you're hurt. And you won't even take your mother's love! You will never get better until you accept your mother's love!"
"Ma-"
"I gave you kids everything," she sobbed, shoulders shaking. Mickey's heart tightened. "Everything I did was for you. But none of you listen to me long enough to realize that."
"Ma, I-"
The door shut before Mickey could say anything. He sighed and leaned his forehead against it, breathing deeply. "Fuck."
Mickey's phone began ringing. He took it out, answering the call distractedly. "What?"
"Hey, Mickey Mouse. Meet me at the dugouts."
-
-
"Fuck did I say about calling me Mickey Mouse?" Mickey hissed as he approached Colin who was lighting a cigarette.
Colin snorted. "What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?"
"What do you want?" Mickey asked exasperatedly. He leaned against the gate.
"It's Jamie," Colin said through the cigarette. He took it out and exhaled. "He's missing."
"So what, he goes to New York every week and comes back eventually. Trust me Colin, you missed a shit load in eleven years."
"Nah, man," Colin crossed his legs and met Mickey's eyes. "He's gone."
"Fucking repeating what you said before doesn't make it anymore clear-" Mickey noticed the look on Colin's face. "What... What do you mean, gone?"
"Last thing anyone heard, got his ass pulled inside out by Terry," Colin looked down at his feet. "My guess? He's dead."
"Jesus," Mickey muttered. He didn't think Jamie was dead. He believed the Terry part, honestly sounds like something that bastard would do, but he didn't think Jamie would actually be dead. It's too sudden. He looked back up at Colin. "So what? What's your plan?"
"We gotta set Terry straight," Colin said simply, as if Mickey hadn't thought of that a million times before. "I got guys. You can find some too. We're gonna set his fucking head straight."
Mickey scoffed, shaking his head. "Alright Einstein, who the fuck would wanna fight Terry? Everyone's either up his ass or scared of him."
"I can list off an army of guys in Boys Town."
Mickey raised an eyebrow. "What, like, fags?"
"You'd be fucking surprised what fags can do." The glint in Colin's eye made Mickey's knees quiver as Colin approached him. "Yeah, Mick. I know your secret, with that little red headed friend of yours."
Oh shit, Colin knows. Do you trust him? Five reads, three votes for the next intense chapter :O