More Than That

Chapter 4: Continuation

  They kept doing that. The sex. Ian would run to the old building and take his meds before Mickey arrived. After the first time he really hadn't thought that he would see Mickey again so he had just ran off to the building the next day planning to move his meds and made good of his promise. It was as he was having a last smoke that Mickey had arrived. The smaller man had just looked him up and down- like a piece of meat, shut up- and raised his eyebrows. Ian got that message so he had fucked Mickey. He didn't seem put out by the fact that Ian was there again. In fact maybe he took Ian's presence as a sort of yes for sex.

  Whatever happened then the arrangement continued. It was like the early days, sex and go. Mickey was like Ian's drug, he needed to touch him, to breath in his smell and hear his moans. Every time it happened though Ian felt worse, dirty. It was even worse than dancing at the club with those old men dirtying his skin. Those men he didn't love. Worthless. Nothing but a good lay.

  They never kissed during their exchanges after that first, not that they had more than twice before this thing but it was nice anyway. He had enjoyed it, he had thought that it meant that Mickey had liked him. Not anymore though. Until their twelfth exchange that was. After they had both come Mickey turned and Ian backed away, pulling his trousers back up. The thug had then marched forward and grabbed the front of Ian's jacket which was when he froze up in panic. This was it.

  Mickey's gaze flicked over Ian's face and he must have seen his fear because he looked almost... remorseful. Then he leaned in and gently kissed Ian the shock of it causing him to stand rigidly for a moment before he melted into it. That seemed to encourage the other who deepened it and Ian had to focus on not moaning into it. Hesitantly, Ian put a hand on Mickey's hip and then the other when he didn't pull away.  On his part Mickey had one hand in Ian's hair and the other on the back of his neck.

  It made Ian feel like maybe there was something more to them. And then they broke apart and Mickey pressed a firm hand against his chest. "Later Gallagher," he said before turning around and swaggering out. Maybe not then. He ran a tired hand over his face and looked at his surroundings, it was almost funny how much this place was a big fuck you. There was the training course representing a broken dream and the memories of Mickey who didn't love Ian like Ian loved him. It was the place that he came to train for his job as a stripper and it was also the place where he kept his meds, the symbol of how much his life was now limited.

  Not if you keep on top of it. Yep, that's what he had to do. He had to do that and he would be fine. His family would never know, he would be able to get a job even a small one and eventually maybe someone to actually love him back. Things were not all bleak.

  Then again that person would never be Mickey. A thought that was hard to handle with the smell as Mickey all over him. 

  All in all it meant that as time went on Ian got more and more unhappy. As Mickey left each time he would follow him sadly with his eyes. He would dream of him and feel his hands on him. Every time that Mickey kissed him he no longer believed that it was anything more than a good feeling. Because it was, it felt good. There was nothing else to it.

  Then he began to feel jittery. He knew what it was immediately, he'd been hiding it long enough now to know the signs. It meant that he needed to go and get his meds readjusted. That then meant that he felt fuzzier than normal and, as he found out the next time Mickey came for their daily fuck, he couldn't get hard. It had happened before when he had first started the medication. Then he hadn't been fucking anyone so it hadn't been a problem...

  As soon as he realised his predicament he dropped to his knees. If he couldn't fuck Mickey he could still pleasure him with his mouth. He had to get him off somehow if he wanted to keep him coming back. After he had finished he stood back up and Mickey pulled him in for a kiss.

  "Mmm that was hot now let me return the favour," Mickey grumbled against his mouth before reaching down and squeezing his crotch.

  "What the fuck Gallagher!" he exclaimed when he felt that Ian was still limp. "That's not wet you didn't get off on that at all. Why the fuck did you not get off? You just did that out of what the fucking goodness of your fucking heart!"

  Mick had pushed him back and Ian couldn't look at him. He'd fucked up again and Mickey wouldn't come back now. Hell he needed him and he'd messed up. This stupid disease had ruined him again.

  "It's not like that Mick please!" Ian begged.

  "Then what's it like. Tell me!" Mick half growled half shouted.

  "My meds have changed and I can't get it up right now," Ian said quietly.

  "Meds? What the fuck do you need meds for?" Mickey asked seeming to deflate.

  "Bipolar."

  "Bi-what the fuck is that?"

  "Mental illness. Mood disorder, it's what my mom has that makes her so crazy," Ian confessed quietly.

  "Then why the hell didn't you just say so? Why did you just suck me off?" Mickey took a step forward but stopped when they were an arms length away.

  "No one knows and I just... I didn't want this to... fuck I didn't want this to stop."

  "Stop? Why is your dick never going to work again?" Mickey asked confused.

  "No but you come here for a fuck and if I can't give you that then why would you come here?" Ian shrugged. Why the hell else would Mickey come?

  "You think I come here for a fuck? I could go for a fuck anywhere," Mickey snorted.

  "Fuck you then. Go off and fuck someone else see what I care!" Ian half yelled, his chest was tight again and tears were pricking at his eyes.

  "I don't want to fuck anyone else you prick! You're worth more than that," Mickey yelled back.

  "You- wait what? Why?" 

  "I... fuck it. I love you okay. I screwed up before but I had to marry that bitch. I fucking love you," Mickey blurted.

  Ian stopped and stared. Mickey loved him? Fuck now he was really crying. 

  "Love you too," he managed to choke out before Mickey launched himself at Ian and locked their mouths together.

  "Love you, bipolar shit and all," Mickey breathed against Ian's mouth.

  "Thank you. Thank you so much Mick," Ian murmured against the skin of Mickey's neck as he wrapped the ginger in a tight hug.

  Maybe things weren't too hopeless after all.