The Secret Between Us//Gallavich

14| Highest of highs

IAN
Of course. Anyone could have seen it coming. As predicted, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I didn't want to believe it. When Fiona and Lip showed up to come and take me home after 72 hours, they didn't seem at all pleased with my diagnosis, considering they knew it already. I was saddened to know that Mickey hadn't communicated with Fiona or Lip, hence his absence. The drive home was boring. I just gazed out the window while Fiona and Lip discussed an arranged schedule. As soon as I walked into the Gallagher house, Fiona basically shoved meds down my throat. The meds were intended to prevent me from experiencing episodes of mania and episodes of depression.

Fiona clearly checked that I had actually swallowed my meds, considering Monica used to fake taking them. After being satisfied with the result, she sent me up to my room while she dialled Mickey's number. I laughed, knowing that if Mickey hadn't tried to contact them yet, he probably wouldn't for a while.

I woke up at 1:45 am. I was unable to sleep, so I decided to go and have some fun, although fun while being Bipolar was difficult.

I walked downstairs, a smile appearing on my face when I noticed that no one else was up. I grabbed a beer and downed it, having not felt any actual emotions. Within 15 minutes, I was drunk. Drunk as a fuckin' skunk. I was so drunk, that I grabbed my medication from the cupboard and flushed it. Was that a Monica move? Hell yes. Did I give a shit? Hell no.

By 2:35, I had made my way to a familiar part of Chicago. Boystown. I remember the last time I was here. As I walked closer to my old place of work, I smiled, remembering.

I had been giving an older gentleman a lap dance. He was enjoying it, meaning my tip would be brilliant when my shift was over. As long as I did whatever was asked of me, my pay would be huge. When he held a pill in his fingers, my mouth opened wide. Was possibly being drugged a good idea? No. Would I get a decent amount of money if I got drugged and subsequently did whatever I was asked to do? Yes.

After swallowing the pill, I don't really remember what happened next. There was a lot of moving around, a lot of dick touching and the nice gentleman being yanked away from me.

"Why don't you molest someone your own age, you geritol fuck?" I recognised that voice as my body just fell to the floor like a rag-doll. My body was probably freezing by now, but I couldn't feel the cold. I couldn't feel the snow against my pale skin. All I could feel was the warm tingling sensations around different parts of my body.

"Jesus Christ, Ian." That's all I heard before everything went black.

I entered The Fairy Tail, hearing the loud music blaring. I felt welcome. My dick started to harden at the sight of so many gay men dancing in nothing but gold thongs. I walked to the managers office, watching as he smiled. He clearly missed me. I placed $200 on his desk and watched as he welcomed me back with open arms.

Within the hour, my clothes were in my old locker and I was wearing a gold thong while dancing on one of the many stages, older patrons placing large sums of money in my pants. Funnily enough, I had missed this. I had missed seeing the smirks and smiles on patron's faces.

"Thank you." I winked at an older gentleman. He seemed just as tall as me. His hair was grey and he wore a very expensive suit. He happily placed at $100 bill in my pants, tapping my hip.

"You wanna get outta here?" He asked, smirking.

"I finish at 6 am. I'll meet you out the front." I smirked back, watching as he walked over to the bar, continuously watching me for the remainder of my shift.

When my shift was finished, I got changed and met the man out the front, watching as he placed his arm around my torso.

"I'm Ian." I announced.

"I'm Ned. But I think I'd rather call you Ginger." He smirked, placing a kiss on my lips.

Before long, we were at his apartment, a very luxurious apartment in the more expensive part of Chicago.

"Hey, Ginger, think fast." We both laughed as he chucked at bottle of water at me. We were both naked, standing at the giant window, staring out at the beautiful city of Chicago.

"Sweet place you got." I smiled, gazing out at the city.

"Yeah, we have company condos all over the country." Ned smiled, looking me up and down. He seemed to smirk when he noticed the size of my dick.

"Hmm, what do you do?" I had never been so interested in the life of someone I was fucking. Yes. Ned and I had been fucking for a little over an hour and honestly, it wasn't the same as Mickey, but that didn't mean that it wasn't good.

"Real estate. I live in Miami." He explained.

"Hmm. You mind if I, uh, sleep here for the night?" I asked, hoping that he'd say yes.

"What, you don't like it at home?" Ned asked, confused. I chuckled, not really wanting to explain my shitty life at the moment with being diagnosed as Bipolar as well as my complicated relationship with Mickey.

"Well, hey, that's no problem for me, huh? We can go for round three, huh?" Ned placed his hand around my crotch area, smirking.

"I can take you!" I laughed, Ned and I now tackling each other. Before long, we were both on the bed, our naked bodies crashing into each other while we wrestled for dominance.