Work Text:
Ian waits.
He waits almost every day for the boy who's locker is three down from his own.
He rearranges his textbooks and binders. Pretends he's doing homework. Sometimes he literally just sticks his arm and moves it to make it look like he's rummaging inside for something. But he's always watching from the corner of his eye for the black haired boy to walk by and go to the locker a mere 5 feet away.
Ian could go up to the boy and start talking to him. Ian's good at making friends. He doesn't have a lot but he could if he tried. But this boy is special. This boy is Mickey Milkovich. Ian knows that. They have the same biology class. Mickey shows up sometimes and sits at the table in front of Ian's. Ian watches him. He finds him interesting. The way that when Mickey does show up for class how intently he's listening. He doesn't take notes like they're supposed to but always shows up when they have a test and passes with flying colors. Ian's amazed. He figures Mickey has a photographic memory or something. Or maybe he's cheating. But Ian doesn't believe that.
So Ian watches him. The way his black hair is slicked back but always has a piece sticking out. The light freckles he has on the back of his neck. The way his shoulder blades shift under his worn out t-shirt. Ian tries not to because this is school and there are other people around constantly, people ready to give a beat down to anyone who dares to be different. Mickey probably being one of them.
Sometimes Ian doesn't care. He stares at Mickey's back for the entire 48 minutes they spend together in biology. Remembering each freckle and scar. Ian wonders why he has so many but he figures it's not his business. Sometimes he brings his hand back and scratches his neck and Ian has something new to look at for a few seconds. It's like a game.
He doesn't tell anyone about it, mainly because he has no one to tell it to, but it's okay because maybe this is something better left unsaid.
He waits. Most of the time he doesn't know what he's waiting for exactly. He waits for Mickey to get to his own locker, that's for sure. But he feels like he's waiting for something more. A chance to talk to Mickey, perhaps. Except he has no idea what to say.
One day as he's watching Mickey rummage in his locker for something out of the corner of his eye, something falls out. Ian sees it and before he can stop himself eyes snap to the paper laying on the floor between them. Mickey doesn't seem to notice. The halls are becoming more empty as the second late bell rings. Ian looks into his locker and decides its now or never. Mickey seems to find what he's looking for as he pulls out a pack of crushed cigarettes and slips one behind his ear, putting the pack in his pocket and slamming his locker before twisting the dial and walking away. Ian closes his locker and grabs the paper before jogging down the mostly bare hallways to catch up with Mickey.
He doesn't know what to do now. Does he tap him on the shoulder? Does he call his name? Would it be weird that Ian knows his name and Mickey probably doesn't know his? Before he can dwell on it he gets close enough to tap him on the shoulder. Mickey turns around with an eyebrow raised, ready to tell whatever dumbass who thinks they have enough balls to tell him to go back to class to fuck off.
Ian's voice catches in his throat. He's watched Mickey for a while. He's seen him from the back and the side but he had no idea how to prepare himself for looking at Mickey straight on.
One time Mickey had turned to the side and Ian had turned away thinking that he had finally been caught observing. But he had seen how long Mickey's eyelashes were and the how blue his eyes were. Mickey turned back to the front but Ian was having a moment. Or his heart was trying to rip out of his chest. He wasn't sure. Ian was in too deep.
Ian felt his neck heat up as he watched Mickey's eyebrow go higher. He cleared his throat and held out the piece of paper that had floated out of Mickey's locker. "You, uh," he clears his throat again, his mouth suddenly dry, "This fell out of your locker and I..yeah." He tells Mickey, feeling a surge of confidence as soon as Mickey stops looking at him and down at the paper instead.
Ian can't help but notice the way his eyelashes flutter as he looks back at Ian.
"Thanks, man." Mickey says, grabbing the paper from Ian and stuffing it into his pocket. He grabs the cigarette from behind his ear and sticks it in his mouth. Ian watches as Mickey wraps his lips around the filter. He feels cold and then a blaze of heat strikes through him. Mickey turns away and starts walking, straight out the paint chipped old double doors, clearly ditching.
Suddenly Ian doesn't care about class. He's already late so what's the point of walking in and being glared at? None. Not while he's with Mickey. He sees a chance and he's going to take it.
"You got another one of those?" He asks, walking next to Mickey. He already knows the answer. Ian's slightly taller but what Mickey lacks in length he makes up in speed.
Ian has a moment where he becomes extremely aware of what's happening, almost like he's watching himself speed walk next to Mickey through a movie screen.
He comes back to himself and hears Mickey grunt, pulling the crushed pack out of his pocket and saying around the unlit cigarette, "last one." His voice is deep and washes over Ian like a wave. He's heard Mickey talk before but this is a whole new level.
"I'll buy you more." Ian says and shrugs like its nothing. They're still walking, turning a corner, putting more distance between them and the school but Mickey doesn't seem to mind Ian being there. Ian takes that as a good sign.
He should be worrying about what he's missing in class right now and how it's going to affect his grades but he can't bring himself to care.
Mickey looks at Ian out of the corner of his eye. "You're not old enough," he scoffs. Ian almost forgets what they're talking about. Right. Cigarettes.
"Yeah, but I work at the Kash and Grab and they don't notice. Or they don't care." Ian shrugs again. Mickey nods, pulling out a lighter and lighting up. He takes a drag before handing it to Ian. He tries not to freak out about putting his mouth on something that touched Mickey's mouth. He sucks in and hears the tobacco crackle as it burns. It burns his throat and turns to the side when he blows the smoke out. He hands it back to Mickey as they keep walking.
"Aren't you in my science class?" Mickey asks as they turn another corner.
"Biology, yeah. I sit behind you." Ian answers, holding out his hand for another drag.
"Woah, man, give me a second." Mickey says as he burns through more tobacco. Ian doesn't feel nervous, oddly. The thought of talking to Mickey usually made him feel hot all over but now that he's doing it, it's less of an embarrassed hot and more of a "I would kiss you if you asked" hot. Ian really wants to. Unbelievably so. He doesn't know where this sudden urge came from. Maybe it's the way Mickey's lips are pressing into the yellow orange filter as he sucks. Ian has to look away.
He feels a nudge on his shoulder and Mickey's holding the rest out to him. Ian takes it and takes a drag before throwing it to the side. He blows out the smoke and sees Mickey looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Ian turns away because this is happening. He's walking with Mickey Milkovich. And they just shared a cigarette while ditching class. Together. Ian feels very calm.
*
Ian gets Mickey the cigarettes like he said he would. Mickey tells him he wants to show him something so they ditch class again, but this time Mickey brings him to an abandoned warehouse and they drink cheap beer that Mickey had stored in a crack in the cement wall. Ian feels weird. This is only the second or third time they've hung out together and Ian feels like this is a secret spot for Mickey. Like he's showing Ian something important.
Suddenly Mickey scoots in close. He's had a lot more than Ian, but Ian is the one who feels intoxicated. Mickey looks comfortable. He looks soft and like he's home, in his brown sweater that Ian usually never sees him without, except when the sun is high and burning.
Ian notices the way he keeps running his thumb over his bottom lip. He figures its just a nervous habit. But why is he nervous? Maybe it's not nervous at all. Ian's not too sure how to read Mickey yet.
Suddenly Mickey is even closer and Ian can smell the beer and cigarette smoke coming off him. Ian doesn't care because its probably him too considering he's been sharing with Mickey the whole time. Ian looks into Mickey's eyes and they're so blue. It's like there's stars in them and Ian tries to blame it on the alcohol and pot they smoked earlier, but as Mickey leans in even more and his eyes flutter shut, Ian can't. He presses his lips to Mickey's and it's not perfect, obviously, they're both a little drunk and high still but Ian feels it. The way Mickey opens his mouth and presses in harder. And it's like fireworks, as cliche as that is. Ian's never felt anything like this and he's felt a lot of things. This is otherworldly.
Ian moves his hand up the back of Mickey's neck, hand sliding against the freckles he knows are there, and grips the longer hair at the back of Mickey's head. Mickey's hand is on Ian's thigh and Ian could die. His heart is beating so fast and loud he feels like its going to burst.
Just as he accidentally tugs on Mickey's hair lightly, Mickey pulls away and Ian sees a flash of panic in his eyes. Mickey isn't moving though. He's watching Ian's mouth. Ian waits. He seems to always be waiting when it comes to Mickey. Just as he's about to remove his hand from Mickey's hair, Mickey leans in again and, without thinking, Ian meets him halfway. Mickey groans, digging his fingers into the part where Ian's hair meets his neck. They kiss until their lips are red and sore. Ian pulls away first. Mickey's pupils are dilated and Ian can't breathe. Mickey throws the empty beer cans into a corner and picks up his backpack, walking towards the crumbing entrance, off balance. Ian stares at a crack running the length of the wall and breathes deeply.
"You comin', Gallagher?" Ian hears Mickey voice call distantly.
Ian snaps out of his trance and quickly stands, grabbing his backpack, and jogging to catch up to where Mickey's waiting for him.
He doesn't even try to hide his huge smile.