Chapter Text
“Come in.”
Ian walked in and saw Kash sitting at his desk, concentrating on a messy scrawl that had been completely ravaged with red scribbles. Locking the door behind him, Ian approached Kash and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him from his shirt.
“I’m marking…” Kash’s protest gave way to a moan as Ian ran his hand down his chest before bending down to capture Kash’s mouth with his own.
“How about I mark you up instead?” Ian paused at his teacher’s belt and slowly unbuckled it, moving his mouth to latch onto Kash’s neck. He sucked at it hard, noting with frustration that Kash didn’t bruise easily, then unzipped Kash’s pants, before reaching in and stroking him softly.
Ian bent down, gradually dropping to his knees. Maintaining eye contact, he leaned in to take Kash in his mouth, applying some suction. Kash threw his head back back with a thump against the wall, and moaned as Ian took him deeper.
“Shit! I’m gonna…”
Ian barely had time to pull back before Kash was coming, a measly white spurt dripping onto the carpet. Groaning, he tucked Kash back in and glared at him.
“Really? Already?”
Ian reached over for a tissue and shoved it into Kash’s hand to clean himself off. Realising that Kash hadn’t responded and had gone very still, Ian looked up, confused. Kash’s eyes were no longer on him, and as he followed Kash’s line of sight, Ian smirked.
“Well, good evening, Principal.”
****
Ms Wright fixed him with a disapproving stare. “Mr Gallagher.”
Ian smirked and arched his eyebrow, leaning back on his chair. “Ms Wright.”
Ms Wright sighed. “I wish I wasn’t having this conversation with you, but you’ve had too many chances.”
Ian sighed dramatically in return. “That’s a shame.”
He rolled his eyes as the principal reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick folder, before slamming it on her desk.
“I understand that you may feel… apathetic towards our school program, but you do understand that we do expect concerted effort from all our students. Your brother’s achievements were indeed exceptional but your attitude and grades have only confirmed our initial doubts about accepting you in this selective school.”
Ian leaned forward in his seat, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you saying?”
Ms Wright closed the files she had been flicking through, and looked Ian right in the eye. “We’ve given you one too many chances. Your position in this school would be better off given to a student who would actually benefit from it.”
Ian slammed his fist on the desk. “Tell me what you’re saying.”
Ms Wright pursed her lips into a tight line. “I’m saying that you’re no longer welcome at this school.”
****
Ian rubbed his eyes exasperatedly as his sister slammed the fridge shut.
“It’s just a piece of paper, Fi.”
Fiona slammed the butter on the table so hard Ian winced.
“It’s not just a piece of paper, Ian. It’s your ticket to actually do something with your life. To get out of this neighbourhood.”
Ian began to sigh, but felt a sharp slap to his cheek.
“Don’t give me that attitude, Ian! I believed in you, you know? When no one else did. I took care of you when Monica dumped your freckled little ass on our doorstep in one of her drop-ins. I raised you and Lip to be able to do it. To do what I never go to do.” Fiona sniffled, and Ian reached to pat her on the arm but was rebuffed.
“No. Don’t, Ian. Just…” Shaking her head, Fiona turned away and resumed cooking.
Ian stared at the benchtop, feeling a wave of something uncomfortably close to guilt in his chest. He was about to move to escape Fiona’s dark mutterings when the phone rang. Fiona didn’t move to reach it. Ian sighed and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Mr Gallagher? It’s Ms Wright.”
Ian paused, quietly moved out of the kitchen and brought the phone closer to his mouth.
“Why are you calling me?”
There was a shuffling on the other side, as if she was getting out of her seat. “Well, since your… affiliation with Mr Karib could technically be classified as rape, he’s been pleading with me to allow this against my better judgement.”
“Allow what?”
A sigh. “I should not be doing this, but I have a colleague who may be able to accept you at their school.”
“But we don’t have the money-“
“It’s all taken care off, Ian. There’s only one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a boarding school in New York.”
****
“Toothbrush?”
“Check.”
“Lip’s old phone?”
“Check. And can’t you call it mine?”
“When someone gets expelled, they lose privileges. Like phone privileges. Tie?”
“It’s not like I’m gonna wear it, Fi.”
“Whatever.” Fiona cupped Ian’s face in her hands and looked him directly in the eye. “I can’t believe I’m letting you go. Please, Ian, don’t mess this up.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Lip took all the brains in this family, and don’t deny it.”
Fiona chuckled, but there were tears in her eyes. “We’ll miss you, buddy.”
****
“Ian.”
The old clock in the corner ticked.
“Call me Ms Matousek.”
Some typing as the principal entered his details into the computer in front of her.
“Here at Apple Grammar, we are a proud institution. I will not tolerate the activities you have been up to at your previous school.”
She stood up and swung a heavy bag towards Ian, who almost dropped it from his surprise and the bag’s sheer weight.
“Everything you require is in there, including your room number. Don’t corrupt your roommate, orange boy.” Ian could’ve almost sworn there was a smirk on the principal’s face as she strutted out of her own office, leaving him alone.
****
Ian looked at the map in his hands then back up at the room number. 69. Of course. Chuckling to himself, he pushed the door open. The room was cosy, Ian decided. There was barely any space apart from the two single beds lining opposite walls, the two cupboards facing each other, and a desk with two chairs. One of the chairs was already occupied, the guy with his back to Ian. His hair was coal-black, and Ian could make out the shine of a thick coat of gel on it. The guy was hunched forwards, poring over a textbook, and with his earphones in, he still hadn’t noticed Ian come in.
Ian stood there awkwardly before deciding to bite the bullet and tapped the guy gently on the shoulder.
“Jesus, fuck!”
Ian chuckled to himself as the guy whipped around, his eyebrows raised to his hairline, then paused as he took in the guy’s features. He had bright blue eyes, sharp through the thick frame of his glasses. His lips were full and puffy.
“Argh, shit, you’re the new roommate, Ian. I’m uhh… Mickey.”
The curse-filled almost-greeting jolted Ian from his thoughts. He’d gotten lost thinking about just how much he’d like to have their room number reflect them getting up to some activities during the night. Or the day. Or now.
“Yeah. What you studying?”
Ian waited for a response, but Mickey had already put his earphones back in and was reading another passage with a ferocious intensity.
He dumped his bags on the empty bed and looked towards the door. Might as well explore since his roommate didn’t seem to be entertaining him anytime soon.
****
“So you’re Ian, the new guy?”
Ian looked up as a tall guy with chestnut hair stood in front of him. He slid into the seat next to Ian’s and held his hand out.
“I’m Nick.”
Ian shook it gingerly.
“I just saw you sitting here, and my Calculus teacher told me we were having a new student soon, and I put two and two together, you know?”
“So we have classes together?”
Nick nodded. “More or less, I’m also doing French though. So, you only just arrived this morning right? Classes already started few weeks ago though. Why are you only here now?”
Ian grunted. “Got kicked out of my last school.”
Nick laughed. “Nice. What for?”
“Umm…” Ian blushed. “Sleeping with my teacher.”
Nick laughed even harder this time. “Awesome, man. Was the pussy good though?”
“Umm… his ass was fine?”
Nick slapped him on the back. “You gotta tell me more sometime.”
Ian chuckled, feeling at ease that Nick hadn’t cared at all at Ian’s revelation.
Whatever Nick had to say next though went unheard as Ian saw Mickey enter the hall. Mickey literally swept through the hall, rushing past and collecting his food before sitting in the very corner by himself and eating silently while staring at his phone.
There was a laugh behind him. “Careful, Ian. Don’t fall for Mickey Milkovich.”
Ian looked back. “Why not?”
“The guy is literally all work, no play. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m also pretty sure he’s never done anything, if you catch my drift.”
Ian sputtered. “He’s a virgin?”
Nick snorted. “I don’t think you’re the right person to be judging, man. But yeah, he’s a completely innocent nerd. It’s actually sorta cute, if that’s what you’re into, I guess.”
Ian hummed in return as an idea slowly formed in his mind. He smirked and held out his hand towards Nick, who looked at it warily.
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
Ian nodded in Mickey’s direction before turning back to Nick.
“100 bucks that I can corrupt Mickey Milkovich by the end of this year.”