I honestly don't know what this is. I just wanted something silly and pointless because it's Sunday and both of my ships are in turmoil right now.

This fic is pointless and hopefully a little silly.

where we are

Mandy flips through the pages of her biology textbook trying to find the right sections to help her claw her way through this bullshit assignment. She blew her bangs out of her eyes angrily when she couldn't find what she was looking for and she glared at Lip who was lounging on his bed with not a fuck to be had in the world.

She reached over and flicked his cheek. "Help me."

"No." His eyes stayed closed and Mandy sighed in frustration.

"Please?" She tried making her voice sound sweet and nice, but she was fucked, because Lip could read her like the liar she was.

"No."

"Come on. You know this shit."

"Damn straight." He got this fucking smirk on his face and Mandy had to bite her lip from smiling at him. Why did he have to be so fucking charming? Why did she have to think he was so fucking charming when he was being so fucking annoying? She tries not to be pissed and annoyed and a little bit jealous by the fact that he used to help Karen Jackson with her homework, no fucking problem, but when she's in deep shit and in danger of being held back a year, Lip doesn't give a flying fuck about it. And Lip has this no bullshit thing about school. He loves it and he gets it and he has a rhythm about it that sort of fascinates her. Right now she hates it and she hates him because it's doing nothing for her. Lip has told her that he's not her little homework bitch boy and if she wants to pass her classes, she needs to learn all this stuff on her own. She sees his point, but still. What's the fucking point of her boyfriend being a genius if she can't take advantage of it sometimes? And she would gladly be right next to him not giving a damn about anything too. He looked fucking inviting. His hair was a mess, sticking up every which way and her fingers itched to mess it up even more. He was in just a pair of boxers and a shirt, and all she wanted was to climb in next to him and have his hands all over her. She bit her lip and remembered her current 'D' average and took a deep breath, getting a handle on herself. Procrastination is a bitch and it's biting her in the ass hard.

She hopped up from the chair and sat on the edge of his bed. "Please? Just one question. I need, like, all the technical words and shit and I can't find anything in this damn book."

"If you went to class once in a fucking while…"

She smacks his shoulder. "You're one to talk. Asshole."

Lip just shakes his head, stretching his arms up and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Look it up."

She's pissed though because she can't. Like honestly fucking can't look it up. She's tried and it's not working out and she's mad because this comes so easy to him. And she can't even look up a stupid answer. And he won't help her and he used to help Karen and she hates these feelings of jealousy and like she can't be anything more to him than some dumbass fuck toy. And she wants to be. She wants to be more to him, she wants to show him that she can be smart, and not just about how to conceal a weapon while she rides the El.

Mandy lifts her book into her arms and starts reading aloud from her assignment. "Name and describe the basic anatomy and functions of the male reproductive system."

She hears Lip snort. "Dick."

She drops her book onto his chest in frustration and he finally opens his eyes and looks at her. "I'm serious, Lip."

"So am I. Look that shit up on your own."

Mandy looks at him, looks at his boxers and his nice shoulders and the stupid smirk on his face and fuck it all. She picks up her book and tosses it to the floor before climbing on top of him, her legs straddling his waist. His eyebrows raise and she feels his hands slide up the sides of her waist and run slowly over to her back, making her shiver slightly and making her want him more. She both hates and loves that he can make her feel like this, like she can come undone from just his touch. It's unnerving for her, because looking at him, she knows just the kind of power he has over her. The weakness he brings out in her. And she fucking hates it, but he makes her crave it at the same time.

"Homework can wait then?"

She smiles at him. "Homework can fuck off."

And she leans down and kisses his mouth. He leans up into her, his arms curling around her waist and he sits up. Mandy feels the familiar desire forming in her stomach and her chest. It takes her breath away, much like the rest of him does. She can feel her heart beating faster when his hands cup her face and as his tongue curls lazily with hers, she sighs into his mouth. He is always so much better than anything she's ever felt and when his lips press kisses over her cheeks and down her neck, she places a kiss on his forehead. His touch makes her dizzy, makes her feel almost transported away from everything that's shit. Her fingers run through his hair and he's just got his fingers underneath her shirt, his touch almost burning into her skin, when the door opens and hits the wall.

Her head snaps to the side just as Lip falls back to the bed with a frustrated sigh. She sees Ian in the doorway, his eyebrows raised, a grin slowly forming.

"Taking a hands on approach to our Bio assignment Mandy?"

She laughs and Lip gives him the finger. She leans down and kisses him again. His hands immediately go to her ass and he squeezes and she hears Ian grumble.

"Pause the porno. I'll be out of here in a minute." Ian starts rifling around his dresser before moving to the closet.

"I thought you had a thing today," Lip asks him, all calm and lazy even though his fingers are tracing shapes on Mandy's back by the clasp of her bra and making goose bumps rise on her skin. She turns her head and watches Ian change his shirt.

"Tonight," Ian says, and Mandy sees him pocket some cash.

"What thing?" she asks, curious. Ian looks at her and for a second he looks like a deer caught in the headlights before he shrugs one shoulder and grins.

"Just a thing."

She looks down at Lip and he nods his head, his hands now playing around with her hair. "A thing," he mouths to her and she can't help the smile she gives him.

Mandy looks back at Ian, still smiling. "Like, a date thing?"

He kind of shakes his head. "Nah, not really." And since she can read Ian better than her fucking Bio textbook, she can tell he's holding out on her, but Lip is squeezing her again, and he makes her so fucking distracted.

"Well. You look nice," she offers and Ian smiles at her.

"Thanks." He pulls a hoodie on and then Ian's out of there, with a reminder to them to use a condom and Lip throws a pillow at his back.

Once the door closes, Lip's hands pick up where they left off, slipping underneath her shirt and Mandy takes a deep breath as her eyes close and she loses herself.

After, she falls boneless against his chest, the orgasm still rushing through her veins, and her heart beating so fast, it's pounding in her head in the best fucking way. Her toes are curled and her fingers still clutch at his arms. Lip is smiling at her and she swears she can actually see a glow on their sweaty skin. She'll never get used to it, to him, to the way he moves, and breathes and just is. She'll never get used to his intensity, the way his eyes stay locked with hers while he's inside of her and the way it all makes her feel so many things. Wanted, loved, desired, like he was fucking crawling into her skin and living there, making a home there.

They lay there together, his hand finding hers against his sheets and he holds it so hard, her heart catches. They share a cigarette and continue to lie there together, quietly talking about pointless little things. When darkness starts to settle in the room, and Lip says he should probably make sure Debbie and Carl and Liam are finding something for dinner, Mandy looks at her Biology text and wrinkles her nose before sighing.

They dress and when she reaches down to pick it up, Lip grabs it from her, along with her assignment page. He cups her cheek and presses a small, sweet kiss to her mouth and says, "Come on. Let me feed you. I can get this shit done in an hour tops."

And he takes her hand and leads her to the kitchen. She watches, fascinated, as he bangs out her assignment in 20 minutes, because of his rhythm and his focus and something that just clicks in his head. And she fucking hates it because it makes her want him and love him so much more than she thought she was capable of.

Mickey watches as the Blackhawks score another goal and smirks when Ian shoots out of his seat and cheers with the rest of these drunk idiots and he cannot believe how fucking whipped he is.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance as fucking 'Chelsea Dagger' blasts through the stadium for the fourth time that night and he grabs his beer, taking a long drink.

How he let Ian sucker him in to this shit, Mickey will probably never understand. They'd been at work a few days ago and Ian had just casually dropped it into conversation that Fiona's boyfriend was such a shit at making bets and during the year he'd been hanging around the Gallagher's, Ian had cleaned up.

Mickey blamed himself because he was fucking distracted and wasn't really paying attention to where this conversation had been heading, more distracted because of Linda's watchful eyes and the kids who were pawing at the bags of chips.

"If I were to get tickets to a game soon, would you wanna go?" The complete bullshit quality to the nonchalance of this question should have tipped him off to just exactly what Ian was throwing down.

"Sure. Why not?" He said as he passed Ian, already on a mission to bang together the heads of these two little shitheads pocketing a few snacks.

Of course, he'd completely forgot about it five minutes later, and still had no fucking clue as to why Ian showed up at his house earlier that day with fucking hockey tickets in his hand.

"Fucking hell Gallagher. No."

"Come on. It's a free game. And it's not a date, I swear."

Mickey had sighed because of course that was a lie. No matter what he said, it was as close to a goddamn date he and Ian would ever go on and he felt like a shit because there was no way in hell Mickey was going to act like it was. But looking at Ian's face, and his wide smile and eyes and looking so open and unguarded, Mickey sighed again. Fuck. This kid was just too ridiculous and stupid sometimes.

Mickey nods at him, but tells him, "I'm getting drunk. And you're paying for it."

And all Ian had done was laugh at him.

He'd been absolutely serious though. During each intermission, Mickey had gone for refills of beer and had started feeling the crowd's energy and shit and when the Blackhawks took bullshit penalties, he was up on his feet with them booing and calling the refs fucking pussies. He high fived some guys sitting behind them, but felt some momentary panic when they kept going and drunkenly shouted out 'Fags'. He was kinda surprised but kinda not when all Gallagher had done was get some high fives in himself and boo right along with them. They exchanged a grin and turned back to the game.

And as they filed out of the stadium, Mickey stumbled his way through the parking lot, the alcohol swimming through his veins and he smiled widely at Ian walking next to him.

"'Chelsea Dagger' man. Fucking worst song." His voice was slurred and he hiccupped a little. He was trying to find his car keys in his pockets and stumbled again when Ian slapped him on the back.

"Okay, Mick." He said and Mickey started laughing because fucking Christ he was with Gallagher on a fucking date. Like it was all normal and shit for them to do this kind of stuff together. Stuff, like actual activities that didn't involve lube and naked body parts.

Before Mickey could get a proper hold of his keys, Ian reached over and snagged them from his hands and then swung them around his finger in front of Mickey's face, fucking smiling all wide at him.

"Ha," Mickey deadpanned and then tried to take them back, but Ian just lifted them above his head and Mickey started cussing him out for being such a tall fucker.

"You're so drunk, man."

Mickey snorted. "And I still drive better than you."

Ian smirked at him and walked over to the driver's side of Mickey's car and got in and started adjusting the seat to accommodate his long legs like he fucking owned the piece of shit. Mickey stood and watched him for a second and then sighed and rolled his eyes before getting in the passenger side. He put the seat back all the way because if Gallagher wanted to be his chauffeur, then fucking let him.

Ian chuckled at him. "Comfy?"

Mickey ignored him and instead reached over and started tapping Ian's wrist. "Don't fuck up my car," he said after a few seconds but kept tapping away at the skin underneath his finger. Ian didn't seem to mind because he kept his hand within Mickey's reach.

He turns on the radio and starts singing and tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel in time with the music and Mickey can't help but think it's nice. He watches Gallagher drive his car, looking comfortable and like he belongs there, and Mickey has to bite his lip from saying that shit out loud.

After awhile, Ian pulls the car to a stop. Mickey lifts his head and looks out the window at the dark street.

"Where are we?"

Ian smiles at him. "It's not stargazing, I promise. Come on." And he gets out of the car and Mickey watches him slide up on to the hood of the car and lean back against the windshield. When Mickey gets out, he notices they're underneath the train tracks and Gallagher is looking up at them, his hands laced behind his head. Mickey climbs up next to him and mirrors his position. He grunts out a thanks when Ian passes him a lit cigarette and for a while, it's just the two of them laying in the silence. Ian had left the car running and the music from the radio filters through the cracked windows and Ian is humming a little bit and Mickey feels fucking happy. And then hears the rumble of the El in the distance.

Ian scoots a little closer to Mickey, their elbows knocking together and when the train comes, Mickey can see sparks shoot out from underneath. It's a constant stream of flashes of light and sparks and Mickey looks over at Ian and sees him smiling and he can fucking feel it all in his chest. He can feel that smile and those eyes and those sparks from the train above them. And it's so fucking sappy and silly and Mickey can't wipe the smile from his face.

"Not fucking stargazing." He doesn't bother to disguise the laughter in his voice because this fucking kid is so ridiculous and stupid and Mickey can't fucking help it because so is he and he likes it.

As always, thank you for reading!