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At first Mickey thinks it’s just the stupid colored lights in his eyes, but he looks again and it’s red hair. He turns his attention back to the banquet hall filled with sweaty, horny, emotional teens. The music is loud and the lights are dim enough to mask the lack of dancing and obvious dry humping. He doesn’t even want to think about where his sister has gone off to, because she’s definitely not in the room. Mickey can’t help but notice a certain senior is also not in the room anymore but he can’t decide if he wants to walk in on his baby sister getting railed somewhere.
He looks back out the window, about to sip what’s left of his watery punch, and now the student from before isn’t alone. There’s another kid sitting next to him closely, talking and holding the other boy’s attention. They’re passing a flask back and forth, and Mickey’s tempted to confiscate it, as per his chaperone duties. The boy puts his arm around the redhead’s shoulder, rubbing on his shoulder and moving his face closer. All the way from inside, anyone would be able to see the change in body language; the subtle way the redhead stiffens but doesn’t pull away; wanting to pull away but not fuck things up. Probably cognitive dissonance, Mickey thinks. He doesn’t know why he gives a shit or why he’s still watching.
He also doesn’t know why he feels himself getting up and moving towards the entrance. He weaves his way through the teens crowding around the rented photo booth, and finds himself looking for the exit to the pool. He calls himself just going for some air, tired of smelling angst and dried pre-cum. He lights a cigarette and takes a few puffs, wandering around the hotel patio, a little confused by the layout from the outside. He follows a sign and the slight smell of chlorine, stopping just far enough to not be noticed immediately.
He thinks he recognizes the kid as one of his sister’s friends or tutors or something. He has no idea who the other guy is, but he already knows he doesn’t like him. Mickey moves closer, noticing that he’s got his hand down the redhead’s opened dress pants and is holding his wrist down. He hesitates, not knowing whether or not he should intervene. Maybe the kid wants it. Who is he to stop a prom rite of passage? He should really go find his sister because that’s a whole different set of rules, but he can’t make his feet move. He stays and watches, caught up in how the redhead looks, not because he’s kind of hot but because he looks torn. Then he hears it.
“C’mon, Jessie…can we just go dance?”
“Didn’t come here to dance with a bunch of little kids,” Jessie says.
“I don’t want–”
“Do you want to lose your virginity or not, Gallagher?”
Ian tries to loosen Jessie’s grip on his wrist. “Not like this,”
“You said we could. Don’t be like this, you promised, Ian,”
“Is this the only reason you came? Stop, Jessie! I said–”
Mickey clears his throat, making them both look up in surprise.
“The fuck are you looking at?” The Jessie guy asks, barely pulling his hands away from the other boy.
Mickey leans down a little to catch the redhead’s eyes. He covers his open pants with his hands and looks up, eyes slightly watery. “He bothering you?”
“I’m his date. Mind your business,”
“Hey! Wasn’t fucking talking to you, so you wanna shut the fuck up a second, pal?” Mickey bites, glaring at the kid. And he actually doesn’t look like much of a kid at all, and Mickey feels his stomach sink slightly. “How fucking old are you?”
“Ask you the same thing, buddy,” Jessie stands, coming closer. “Watching some teens all night, perv.”
“What’d you call me?” Mickey raises an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who was out here trying to cop a feel. What’s in the flask, Cosby?”
Jessie scoffs, but backs down, holding up his hands. He shakes his head and laughs to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Fine. You’re playing white trash knight for this tease,” he thumbs over to Ian, who turns red and looks down.
“What’d you call him?”
Mickey doesn’t think, just moves. He rushes forward with his hands out until they slam into the guy’s chest, pushing him off balance and backward into the pool with a yelp. Mickey only regrets accidentally losing his cigarette in the action. Ian has a hand to his mouth, standing to the side of Mickey. He lets out a little laugh, and Mickey doesn’t feel so stupid for reacting.
Jessie surfaces, spitting out water and wiping at his wet hair and face. “Little whore’s been begging for it for months!” He yells, treading water to get back to the edge of the pool.
“He said no, fucking prick!” Mickey says, tempted to move the ladder away. “C’mon,” he touches Ian’s elbow gently to get him walking towards the hotel door.
“Ian! Ian, I missed work for this shit! You owe me, Ian!”
They leave Jessie yelling outside, and Mickey takes Ian back inside the prom hall. He sits him down at a table around the dance floor and goes to get him a bottle of water. When he comes back, Ian reluctantly takes it from him barely making eye contact. He looks disappointed and Mickey’s starting to feel like an idiot for getting involved. Ian hadn’t said anything, not even a ‘thanks’. The last thing he needed was drama that wasn’t even his. He snatches a bag of pretzels from another table and throws himself down in a chair, wishing he’d followed through on sneaking in some mini liquor bottles. He offers Ian a pretzel.
“Sorry I ruined your prom,” he says, waiting for Ian to take the bait.
Ian gives him a look, knitting his eyebrows together as he slowly reaches for a salty snack.
Mickey nods towards the pool out the window. “Your boyfriend. Probably not gonna let him return his tux.”
Ian snorts and actually looks at Mickey now, nibbling on the offering. “Thanks for…that. I’m such an idiot.”
“He’s the idiot. Pressuring you and shit.”
Ian sighs, “I always fall for guys like that.”
“Rapists?” Mickey feels bad for saying it like that no matter how accurate. “Sorry.”
Ian shakes his head and rubs his hand down his face. “Older, give me attention, kind of an asshole…I thought this time it could be real. This night was supposed to be special, you know?”
Mickey snorts, “Yeah, real nice getting your cherry popped in a hotel filled with your teachers and peers.”
“Is it your cherry if you’re the one doing the popping?” Ian asks.
Mickey chokes on a pretzel and has to steal the water he got for Ian. He gulps down the liquid, trying to figure out what he just heard Ian imply. He definitely doesn’t look like the type and Mickey definitely should not be thinking of him that way. Ian pats him on the back and Mickey realizes he’s stronger than he looks. One more growth spurt and he’ll be even more taller than him.
“You’re Mandy’s brother, right?”
Mickey nods. “Older.” Mickey wants to kill himself for specifying that after hearing the kind of guys the redhead goes for. And Ian doesn’t miss it, smiling slightly.
“I’m gonna go dance,” Ian says, getting up and heading towards the crowd of students.
Mickey catches himself watching the redhead for longer than he should. He tries to pull his eyes away and scan the other kids for any illicit activity, while ignoring the elicit thoughts in his mind. Ian is a good dancer for a gangly teen, moving his body well to the music but still making it look effortless and care-free. He looks like he’s having fun, and Mickey’s actually glad the night has seemed to change for him. He even dances with Mandy when she reappears, giggling and whispering in his ear about wherever the fuck she was for most of the dance. Mickey will bust her balls later when they finally get home, and get the name of the high schooler he has to beat to a pulp. Eventually Ian gets tired and leaves to get some air.
Mickey’s up and following before he gets too far out of sight. For whatever reason, he’s scared he’s leaving for the night. He lets out a breath when he finds him just down a side hall. It’s decorated like the rest of the dance with strings of lights and balloons blocking a fire exit and maintenance closet like a curtain. A couple heads back into the dance from the area so there’s no one else around. The music can still be heard from inside. Mickey moves the lights aside and finds Ian leaning against the wall. He stands in front of him and Ian watches him for a minute.
“Some night, huh?” Ian says, hands in his pockets. His tux shirt is loosened and he looks flush from dancing so much.
“Still thinking about that piece of shit?”
“That piece of shit was my ride. We didn’t even dance,” he admits.
“So, dance with me.”
And just like when he’d pushed Jessie into the pool, Mickey finds himself reacting before he can even really think about what he’s doing. He takes Ian’s hands out of his pockets and puts them on his shoulders, then takes his waist and pulls him towards him a little more. Ian lets it happen, giggling through his grin when he realizes what Mickey is attempting. He locks his hands around Mickey’s neck and sways slowly with him, and Mickey feels another dip in his stomach. This time it makes him feel giddy. Ian smells good and his body feels amazing pressed against him. They shuffle their feet to the convenient slow song, content in their own little world for a moment.
When the song ends, it seems to be the last one of the night as another one doesn’t come on. Everyone slowly starts to trickle out of the banquet hall but no one notices them yet. Mickey doesn’t know when he rested his head on Ian’s chest, so he’s slightly embarrassed when Ian lifts his chin up and smiles. Mickey can’t help himself, as he leans up and presses their lips together. It’s not quick but not long either, and over too soon.
Mickey quickly pulls away, realizing what he’s just done and feeling like shit for pulling something on the kid after the night he’s already had. He’s no better, letting what he wants take control of him. Only, he didn’t even know what he wanted when he agreed to the job for his parole. Ian touches his lips and Mickey can’t stay. He needs to get out of here and leave all of this alone before it starts.
“No, wait, Mickey!” Ian stops him, grabbing his hand before he can disappear back through the lights.
Mickey stops, unable to move his feet. It feels like Ian’s hand in his is an electric current and he’s being tased. He brings him closer again.
Ian shows him a cheesy grin. “That was my first kiss.”
“Mine too,” Mickey admits, because the way Ian is looking at him is making him feel all warm and loose and crazy.
“Thanks for making tonight special,” Ian says, kissing Mickey this time.
“Ever been in a limo?” Mickey asks when they pull apart.
Ian smiles and shakes his head, letting Mickey lead the way.