After spending another hour at the dugouts making out like the horny teenagers they were, Ian and Mickey stopped being stubborn and finally admitted it was too cold out and headed home.

Mickey walked Ian home at a leisurely pace, neither of them in a hurry to get anywhere. They took full advantage of the darkness and the fact that no one was around to bump shoulders and steal flirty glances at each other.

Once they reached the Gallagher house, Mickey looked around cautiously to make sure there were no witnesses around before grabbing Ian by the collar of his coat and bringing him in for a too-quick kiss in the shadows.

"When will I see you again?"

"Ian."

Ian pulled back, giving Mickey a look that said everything; that he wasn't taking no for an answer, that time. That there was no way in hell he could go on acting as if Mickey didn't exist.

"I'll get ahold of you in a couple days," Mickey relented. "Just promise me something. Don't talk to my sister, you hear me? Don't even look in her direction. I don't need her gettin' suspicious and askin' more questions. If my dad even catches on that I'm around you, he'll flip his fuckin' lid—"

"I know, alright?" Ian said, cutting him off, not needing another verbal reminder of their shitty situation: that they could never be together as long as Terry Milkovich was breathing. "You don't have to say it."

"I wish shit was different," Mickey said with a resigned sigh, his tone softening slightly around the edges. "I really fuckin' do."

Ian pressed his forehead to Mickey's quickly, not wanting to take any chances of being seen, and nodded curtly before reluctantly pulling away. "Got it."

"I'll see ya," Mickey said before turning to walk away, leaving a crestfallen Ian watching after him.

The next day, Ian was sitting in one of his classes, his knee bouncing anxiously as he ran a hand over the top of his head. He couldn't stand it. Even though he'd spent hours with Mickey the night before, he needed to see him again. It killed him not to know when he would see him again. It was like he was being weaned off a drug, and he was going through withdrawal; he couldn't think, eat, sleep, sit still…

When the bell rang, he hastily scooped up his books and made his way to his locker, eager to get the school day over with. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Mandy Milkovich at her own locker. He wanted so badly to go up to her and tell her to relay a message back to Mickey for him, but he knew Mickey would be anything but happy about that, so he reluctantly walked past her.

"Hey, Ian Gallagher!"

Ian froze and turned to see Mandy sauntering up to him with a small smile on her face. "Uh, hey, Mandy."

"Hey," she said. The girl wasn't the same Mandy from the day before; she seemed pleasant and happy to see him. "Did you end up meetin' up with my shithead brother last night?"

"Um," Ian began, surprised by the question.

"You can talk, can't you?" she asked, quirking a playful eyebrow. "String words together to form sentences?"

Ian relaxed a little and offered her a small, tentative smile. "Yeah, I can talk… and no, I didn't meet up with your brother."

"Are you and Mickey friends or something?" she questioned. "I didn't know my brother had friends."

Ian already had his story ready; the one he and Mickey had concocted together. "Uh, no, he and my dad made a deal. I was the middleman, had to meet up with Mickey to pay off his debt."

"Makes sense," she said with a shrug, buying it. "Walk me to my next class?"

Ian looked up and down the hall, not knowing how to deal with the situation. He'd never expected Mandy to come up to him, let alone ask him to walk her to class. "Uh."

"Is that the only word you know?" she asked, appearing utterly charmed; she looked fucking charmed, with a flirty smirk, and a playful tilt of her head.

Ian knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn't think of an excuse not to walk her to class. And really, he didn't want to be a dick. "I, uh… sure, I can walk you to class."

"So, you can string words together," Mandy said, taking him by surprise by looping her arm through his. "Come on, Ian Gallagher, before I'm late."

Mickey's head shot up as soon as he heard the front door open. He immediately relaxed when he saw it wasn't his father. He had been narrowly avoiding his father since the beating he'd gotten the other night, but he knew it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again. He didn't know what to expect, but he doubted it was over.

"Hey, shithead," Mandy said, dropping her backpack next to the couch and hitting his feet, motioning for him to make room for her on the couch.

"Slutbag," Mickey answered back halfheartedly as he returned his attention to the TV.

"Since when do you wear a watch?"

Mickey's heart jumped a beat at her random question. He mindlessly covered the watch with his other hand. "Since fuckin' now. Why the hell do you care?"

"It looks gay."

"Your face looks gay."

Mandy rolled her eyes as she leaned forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, changing the channel to her favorite soap.

"Do you mind?" Mickey bellowed. "I was fuckin' watchin' that!"

"Yeah, well, now you're not."

Mickey eyed his sister warily, hoping the topic of the watch would be dropped. Just as he was sure she was through with interrogating him, and his heart rate was returning to normal, she said something that sent his entire body and mind reeling.

"So, I hung out with your new friend Ian Gallagher today."

Mickey sat up from his reclined position, the pack of smokes he had sitting on his chest tumbling to the floor. "The fuck you just say?"

Mandy didn't know what she was doing to her brother's emotions as she continued, "I ran into him at school. He walked me to my biology class. He's a cool-ass kid. He's sweet."

Mickey stared back at her, turning the information over in his head. He was furious, first and foremost. Ian had promised that he'd stay away from Mandy, and there it was, not even a full day later, and the dipshit was walking her to class.

Another part of him was jealous that Mandy had the chance to see Ian at school and got to walk with him to class; all the things Mickey would never get to do.

"You need to stay the fuck away from him, you hear me?" he snapped, his brows shooting up to his hairline, letting her know how serious he was.

"Why do you suddenly give a shit who I hang out with?" she asked with a sneer.

"Because," Mickey stammered, knowing he sounded all kinds of stupid at the moment. "Because he's a fuckin' Gallagher, that's reason enough, ain't it?"

"Eh, I've fucked worse," she said with a blatant shrug of her shoulders.

"You fucked worst," Mickey began incredulously, feeling as if he wanted to punch a wall. "You're thinkin' about bangin' the guy?"

Mandy shrugged again before grinning. "I'd even settle for a finger bang. I'm not picky."

Mickey's face screwed up in disgust.

"What?" she laughed. "He's nice, funny, and cute as hell. Why wouldn't I fuck him?" she asked before scowling at her brother. "Again, why do you suddenly care who I screw? You've never given a shit before."

Mickey tore his eyes away from his sister, afraid that she'd eventually be able to see right through him. He couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse fast enough, at least not one that wouldn't make him sound completely unhinged.

"I think he likes me," she said. "He's shy around me, can barely even get a full sentence out. I think it's sweet."

"Alright, shut the fuck up," he snapped before standing up and pacing.

"The fuck's wrong with you?" she sneered. "Why're you bein' such a dick right now?"

"I don't want you messin' with that Gallagher kid, alright? I heard he's been faggin' it up with some fuckin' towelhead down at the Kash and Grab. He might have, like, AIDS or something," he said, waving his hand around in frustration.

"Wait, he's gay?" she asked, her brows furrowing slightly before softening again. She then shrugged. "It's okay, I'm up for the challenge."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Mickey muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.

Mandy stood and grabbed her backpack. "I'm done with this conversation. I'm headin' to my room to do my homework and daydream about Ian Gallagher's cock in my mouth." She tossed her brother a saccharin-sweet grin and left him stewing in the living room, for reasons she would never guess in a million years.

Mickey clenched his fists and only thought about his next move for a few beats before grabbing his coat and walking out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Mickey's first stop was the Kash and Grab, knowing that Ian usually worked there after school on most days. He walked into the store and glanced around, immediately spotting Ian's douchebag boss by the drink coolers. For a split second, he worried that Kash would recognize him from the night of the kidnapping, but he relaxed when he remembered there had been masks.

"Ey, Apu!" he called out. "Gallagher here?"

The man glanced up, his expression indignant. "Ian doesn't work here anymore."

"Why the fuck not?" Mickey asked, confused by the news. "He quit or something?"

"I let him go," Kash intoned.

"You fired him?" Mickey shot back, frowning. "What the fuck for?"

"That's not any of your business," Kash retorted. "Are you gonna buy something or not? We don't tolerate loitering."

Mickey stared back at the man before realization dawned on him. He thumbed his lower lip and let out a mirthless chuckle. "You fuckin' kidding me? You fired him because he won't bang you anymore, right?"

Kash's head snapped up. He glared back at Mickey, utter shock registering on his face. "What did you say?"

Mickey advanced on him. "So, what? He wouldn't stick it in your ass anymore, so you fired him? You know how much he needs this job, and you fuckin' fire him, you pedo piece a shit!" He delivered the last word with a hard punch to Kash's gut, causing the man to double over in pain.

"Your wife will find out about this," he growled in the sputtering man's ear. "You hear me? You're done." He delivered a knee to Kash's face before turning to leave. Before he walked out, he knocked over a rack of chips and grabbed a handful of Snickers bars for his troubles.

After doing his homework, knowing he still had a long way to go before he was where he needed to be, Ian grabbed his smokes and headed out to the porch, needing some fresh air. He realized how ridiculous that seemed, smoking while needing fresh air, but he decided not to dwell on that.

The sun was setting and casting shadows everywhere. He sat down on the first porch step and lit his cigarette before looking up, his eyes falling on a figure standing across the street. His heart rate immediately escalated when he realized the creeper was Mickey. He shot up from the step and immediately crossed the street.

"Mickey? What're you doing here?"

"I've been waitin' out here for almost an hour for your ass," Mickey snapped, avoiding Ian's stare as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"You coulda just knocked on the door."

"Not really, though."

"Look, my family knows you helped me," Ian sighed. "They know you didn't do anything to hurt me."

Mickey scoffed. "I was still a part of it, Ian."

"Yeah, but they don't—"

"I ain't here to fuckin' argue with you about why I didn't knock on your door."

Ian's eyes narrowed. "So, why are you here?"

"You talked to Mandy today when I specifically told your ass not to."

Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "She came up to me."

"And, what?" Mickey snapped. "You couldn't fuckin' resist?"

Ian opened his mouth to say something, but Mickey interrupted him.

"This ain't a fuckin' game, Gallagher. This is my life you're messin' with," Mickey bellowed. "If I tell you to stay away from my sister, I mean to stay the fuck away from my sister. If you can't do what I ask, we're done."

Just as he was about to brush past him to leave, Ian shot his arm out and grabbed Mickey's elbow. "Don't go."

Mickey shrugged his arm roughly out of Ian's grasp. "Back the fuck off, Gallagher."

"I'm sorry," Ian said, his tone desperate. "She asked me to walk her to class, and I… I didn't wanna be mean. I had no good reason not to. What was I s'posed to say?"

Mickey looked back at him, his resolve softening despite his best efforts to stay tough. "You didn't wanna be mean?" he repeated. "Jesus, you really are too nice for your own fuckin' good." He dropped his head and rubbed the nape of his neck. "She likes you, you know?" he said after a beat, his voice barely audible over the wind.

"What?"

"Mandy fuckin' likes you," Mickey shot back irritably. "When she likes someone, she usually doesn't stop 'til she gets what she wants."

Ian silenced him by bravely stepping forward and leaning in to kiss him.

Mickey pulled back immediately. "Hey, what the fuck?" he hissed, frantically glancing up and down the deserted street to make sure no one saw them. "You can't do shit like that around here. The fuck's wrong with you?"

"You know you don't have anything to be jealous about, right?"

"Fuck you, jealous!" Mickey exclaimed. "I'm not fuckin' jealous."

Ian stared back at him, wanting him in the worst way. "C'mon, I wanna show you something." He jerked his head, motioning for Mickey to follow.

"I already told you I'm not goin' inside your house," Mickey groused.

"We have a van in our backyard," Ian said as he began walking backward, his eyes locked suggestively with Mickey's.

Mickey watched until Ian was halfway across the street before following him, curiosity getting the best of him.

Ian led him to the old rusted van behind the house and opened the door. He glanced at Mickey over his shoulder with an arched brow in a silent invitation.

Mickey stood frozen, only having to think about his next move for a few beats before walking up to the van. As he climbed in, he muttered, "Can't believe I'm about to get fucked in the back of a van like some whore."

Ian grinned as he climbed in after him, sliding the door closed behind them.

"Christ, you even have a mattress back here," Mickey said as they got on their knees facing each other and hastily removed their coats.

"Yeah, Frank sometimes sleeps in here when we don't let him in the house," Ian explained. "So, if it smells like shit, that's why."

"Enough fuckin' chit-chat." Mickey wrapped a hand around the back of Ian's neck and pulled him in for a desperate kiss.

Ian mumbled something incoherent into the kiss.

Mickey reached between them and worked on removing his belt. "I want you on me," he said, not bothering with taking the time to undress; it was too cold for that shit.

Ian watched as Mickey removed his pants and boxers eagerly before turning around on all fours. "I've always wanted to fuck in this thing," he said breathlessly as he stared at Mickey's bare ass and worked on his own pants. Once he was naked from the waist down and positioned directly behind Mickey, he hesitated. "Shit, I don't have any condoms or lube on me."

Mickey hung his head and let out a groan. "What the fuck, Gallagher?"

"Well, excuse me," Ian retorted. "I didn't think I would be fuckin' you today."

"You should always keep that shit on you," Mickey groused. "Ain't that, like, the fuckin' homo cardinal rule?"

"Considerin' the only person I wanna fuck nowadays wants to act like I don't exist, I didn't think I had to keep the stuff on me," Ian shot back.

"That's the problem, you don't fuckin' think!"

"Fuck you, Mickey."

Instead of responding, Mickey hung his head and let out a genuine laugh before moving to lie on his back.

Ian stared down at him in bewilderment as Mickey grinned up at the ceiling of the van, his upper body shaking with his laughter. "The hell's so funny?"

"This shit with you and me," Mickey said through his laughter. "One minute we're tearin' our clothes off, wanting to bang, the next we're rippin' each other new assholes, and not in a good way."

Ian laughed and laid down next to him. "Fuckin' ridiculous," he murmured before grabbing his coat and laying it out over their bare legs.

Mickey looked at him, his laughter dying down as their eyes locked.

Ian stared right back, watching as Mickey's Adam's apple bobbed nervously. He reached out and smoothed his thumb over Mickey's cheek. "What's goin' on?"

"You won't fuck my sister, will you?" Mickey asked, his voice sincere as he stared back at him. "She can be pretty fuckin' relentless when she wants something."

"Come on, Mickey," Ian said. "Your sister is nice and all, but I'm a hundred percent into cock. Thought that was obvious by now?"

Mickey stared back, swallowing visibly, his insecurities laid bare.

Ian propped himself up on an elbow and said, "I'm a hundred percent into you. Thought you knew that." He leaned down, nudging Mickey's nose a little with his own before pressing his mouth softly against Mickey's in a sweet kiss.

"Better be," Mickey murmured against Ian's lips before kissing him back, letting Ian know he'd heard him.