Mickey had gone back to working with Ian at the Kash and Grab. Linda had no problem with hiring him again considering how low the theft rate had been thanks to him. So they spent their days loading up shelves or Mickey scaring off a couple kids attempting to steal some candy. And frankly, Mickey had no problems with it.

He had grown to find it comforting, though he had moments where he swore it was all a dream he would wake up from the next morning.

Sometimes the ex-con would just lie in his and Gallagher's bed or watch the redhead as he handled a customer and wondered what he'd done to deserve him.

Come on, he'd fucked up so many times with Gallagher that you could probably write a book about it. He'd treated him like nothing all because of how afraid he was. He almost married that Russian slut. He called Firecrotch a warm mouth. And worst of all, he'd beat him up. All out of fear.

But then his mind would remind him of the good things, too. He'd proved the redhead meant something when he'd beat up that old guy. And by getting shot twice for Gallagher. And let's not forget to mention how he'd actually grown the balls to kiss Gallagher. Which he'd never done before. And though he won't say it, he liked it.

So maybe that's why when he came home from The Alibi Room one night to find Ian packing up some of his things, it felt like the floor hell out beneath the ex-con.

"What the fuck are you doing, Gallagher?" he managed to get out.

Ian turned and faced him, his face not expression anger or anything Mickey had expected, but apologetic, even regretful.

"I have to go, Mick." He said quietly.

"Go where? Some queer rally?" he tried to joke, but his voice faltered. Mickey couldn't even get himself to move.

Ian looked solemn when he spoke again. "You know where, Mickey."

Mickey could feel the wall building up, brick by brick. Anger flared, and his hands clenched into fists. After everything, Gallagher was going to still go? Was going to just enlist like nothing ever happened? Even after Mickey told off his dad and didn't go through with that fucking wedding?

Even after Mickey was able to say "I love you and let down his guard? Even after Gallagher made a fucking promise to stay with him forever?

"You're fuckin kidding me, right?" he spat out.

"Mickey, you know I've wanted to do this. I told you I was going to go eventually."

"It's a fucking stupid ass move, Gallagher!"

"Mick, it's just—"

"Just what? Four fucking years? That's a goddamn lifetime! You could go to fucking college or some shit!" Mickey yelled. Gallagher has to see what a fucking mistake he was making. He had to.

Ian just stood there, staring at Mickey. From the look on his face, Mickey knew nothing was going to work.

"Mickey. I need to do this. I need to get out of here." He spoke quietly, making Mickey sound louder and harsher than he was.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, Gallagher. I let my life go to shit for you." Mickey turned and headed for the door. Ian followed after him and grabbed his arm, making the ex-con jerk away.

"I turned your life to shit? Mickey, your life was already shit! You had an abusive and homophobic prick for a father!" Ian yelled.

"Everything was fuckin fine before you!" Mickey froze. He didn't mean to say it like that. Of course it was a lie. Ian had to know by now it was, right?

Ian's face turned cold. He went to the bedroom and grabbed the bag, then came back and opened the door.

"Then it shouldn't be a problem for you to get used to me being gone." Ian said, then closed the door and left.

Mickey knew he should have gone after him. But he couldn't get himself to. He just stood there for what seemed like hours, then slowly walked to the bedroom and curled up on the bed. He didn't sleep. He couldn't even if he tried.

That was a mistake. He knew it. But he was so angry it just slipped out. Gallagher hurt him this time. Gallagher should be the one coming back to apologize. What did he expect? Mickey wasn't going to be a bitch and beg.

But the more it played through his mind, the more Mickey couldn't deny one big fact: Ian Gallagher had become his life. The redhead was a fucking drug. And Mickey needed to have his daily fix. Ian couldn't go. They've already gone through enough shit; it's time for them to finally have a chance.

So Mickey found himself up early in the morning for once in his life, running out the apartment and going as fast as he can.

Mickey only knew where to find the bus because he'd heard Ian talk about it so many times before. As he got closer, he saw the line of guys that were loading into the bus, duffel bags over their shoulders. It only took a second to pinpoint Gallagher, considering he was redheaded and the tallest of the group. The ex-con made his way over as Ian was about to step onto the bus.

"Don't." He called out. The whole line of men turned to look at him, but Mickey didn't care. The only pair of eyes he wanted was meeting his gaze.

"Don't what?" Ian asked.

"Just…" Mickey tried to make sentences form. For the words to come out like he wanted. But they just couldn't.

Ian waited for a minute, then with a look of expected disappointment, he looked away to continue his step.

"I didn't mean it." Mickey rushed out. Ian stopped again and looked at him.

"I know."

"You just…You fuckin made me start giving a shit, and you expect me to just be fuckin okay with you doin this? I…I actually…" Mickey rubbed his bottom lip fiercely. "I fuckin need you, all right?"

All the men stared, looking back and forth between Mickey and Ian. Ian's face changed, a smile slowly forming as he walked over to Mickey.

"You need me?" He asked.

"Jesus, Gallagher, yes. I'm not fuckin saying it again." Mickey glared.

Ian smiled. "I never thought Mickey Milkovich would ever say that."

"Yeah, well don't get used to it."

"I won't." Ian brought their lips together into a kiss that wasn't rough, but unusually sweet. The boys clung to each other in that moment, pretending that they weren't in front of a dozen other men.

"Stay with me, Gallagher." Mickey's voice portrayed the fear he never wanted Ian to know about, which made the redhead's grip tighten.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mick. I don't need to." Ian said quietly.