Ian walked with his hands buried deep in his pockets, the sun glowing down on him, warming his back. He loved the Summer and how it seemed to brighten up even the dullest of places.

He knew he was early but figured he'd only have to wait a little while whilst Mandy added yet another layer of make-up to her eyes for reasons beyond Ian's understanding.

The door swung open and it wasn't Mandy who answered or even Kiera, it was Mickey in nothing more than boxers that were low on his hips with his hair sticking up all over the place. Obviously he was still in bed regardless of the fact that it was two in the afternoon.

For a second or two, Ian forgot why he was there, what he was doing, how to breathe, even. Somehow, though he'd only seen Mickey a few days back thanks to that beyond awkward moment with him, he didn't think he'd be seeing him anytime soon.

"I, uh, I'm here to see Mandy," he breathed out.

Mickey looked down and walked back into the house, leaving the door open.

Ian shuffled inside, closing the door and once he turned back around Mickey was gone. No doubt back in his bed.

"Hello Ian," Kiera was sat on the sofa with her legs crossed and her bright pink bong by her side. It made him wonder why it had been Mickey who'd answered the door.

"Hey Kiera, Mandy ready?" he noticed she was watching The Lord Of The Rings and it made him smile - the girl had a serious obsession.

"Oh. No. A friend of hers is having a boyfriend crisis. She told me to tell you so that's why I am," her eyes never once left the screen, she was utterly enthralled.

Ian sighed in annoyance. It was Mandy's idea to hang out, he would have been more than happy to stay at home and lounge about in the pool.

Kiera paused the film and stood up, smoothing out the creases of her floral skirt. Ian thought the way that she dressed didn't really match her personality. She was sarcastic and weird, a total pothead who had a tendency to beat the shit out of people in the calmest of ways and yet her outfits were always so feminine, so pretty, cute even; little patterned dresses, skirts always worn with stockings, button-up blouses, cardigans. It was strange so Ian figured in that sense it suited her perfectly.

She walked towards him and gently cupped one of his cheeks the way she always did; her own way of saying things only Kiera could really know. Though Ian had only known her for just a few weeks, he had already gotten used it, he thought it was sweet though a little too intimate.

"Stay," her voice was nothing more than a whisper, that one syllable a subtle demand.

Ian obliged, sitting down beside her on the messy sofa. A smirk spread across his face when she started the film from the beginning again.

They had been watching the film for over an hour and it had barely even begun - apparently once she'd gotten out of juvie, Kiera had treated herself to the extended edition box set. Every now and then he'd look across at her as she mouthed out certain lines at the same time as the characters, laughing silently to himself. It reminded of him of Debbie.

"Kiera!" Mickey's voice shouted out, travelling through the house, giving Ian goosebumps. God he had missed that voice. "Make me a sandwich, bitch!"

"Oh how foolish of me, did I forget to tell you?" she shouted back. "Saturdays are my days off from my 1930s housewife duties," her voice was full of sarcasm but her serious tone made it seem like she actually meant what she was saying.

Ian laughed to himself.

A minute later Mickey came shuffling out of his room, still topless but now with jeans on, and he wandered into the kitchen noisily opening and closing cupboards.

"Would you like to watch Lord Of The Rings with us?" Kiera asked him.

"For the fucking third time this week? Nah, I'm good," he replied, laughter in his voice.

"You need to give in and admit that you love it."

Mickey snorted loudly. "What, just 'cause you do? The only reason you do is because you're obsessed with that elf or whatever the fuck he is."

Kiera got up on her knees and spun round to face him, her eyes wide. "Legolas is... you know what?" she returned to her original position and flicked her dark hair over her shoulder. "I do not need to justify myself."

That just got another snort from Mickey and Ian couldn't help but turn to look at him. Mickey's eyes were already in his direction and he wondered if he had been staring at him the whole time. A part of him really hoped he had been. They held each others' gaze for what felt like hours, at least to Ian. Too soon Mickey looked away and began walking back to his room.

It was time. Ian knew he had nothing to apologise for, didn't have to explain himself but he couldn't just carry on pretending like nothing had happened and he knew Mickey would only approach him when he absolutely had to and that could be months away. So Ian got up and told Kiera he needed to use the bathroom and, without hesitation, walked straight into Mickey's room. It hadn't changed a bit.

"Jesus Christ, Ian, you heard of knocking?" he was sat back against his pillows his sandwich untouched, looking more solemn than usual.

Ian did nothing more than stare at him, wishing he had given what he was going to say a little thought.

Mickey stood, shoving his hands into his pockets, that action pulled his jeans down even lower on his hips and Ian swallowed hard because the guy was still topless and had obviously done some serious working out.

"You didn't visit me," he mumbled out.

Ian scoffed angrily. "Yeah well I didn't know if warm mouths had visiting rights," he snapped, hardly believing what he was hearing; couldn't believe that Mickey thought that that was all on him.

"For fuck's sake," Mickey sighed out, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Oh, you're pissed at me? Are you freakin' kidding me right now?" he felt all of his pent-up anger come flowing out of him. "You have no right to be! You break it off like you never even slightly gave a shit and expect me to visit you in juvie?" he found himself laughing and breathing heavily, trying to regain the composure he had lost.

"I..." Mickey trailed off, looking down at his feet. "Fuck. It's just..." he rubbed his neck again. "You were never my fucking boyfriend and I wans't yours. We didn't owe each other fuck all, and-"

"Are you-"

"Will you let me fucking finish?" Mickey took a step closer to him, his eyes wide and flickering between Ian's. "I didn't wanna die just 'cause I'm a fuckin' fag, alright? And... fuck! You... you..." he trailed off again and rubbed his face with his hands then sighed deeply.

"Mick, what are you trying to say?" Ian asked. He knew Mickey wasn't exactly good with words but he wanted to hear what he had to say, whatever it was.

He looked up, desperation in his eyes. "You shouldn't have fuckin' believed me. I was tryin' to save my ass... not just from my dad," he closed the space that was between them. "Why the fuck did you believe me?" he shoved Ian slightly but then grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling him closer still.

They stared at each other intently and Ian though his heart had stopped beating, thought the world had stop spinning on it's axis and time had come to a standstill.

"Mick, I-" A pair of lips on his stopped him in his tracks. His eyes grew wide with shock and his mouth forgot that it could move for a moment.

Mickey pulled back cursing under his breath but before he could pull back completely, Ian grabbed his face and bought it to his, crushing their lips together in one swift movement. Mickey's grip on Ian's t-shirt tightened as his other hand made it's way up the front of it, his cold hand sending shivers down Ian's spine.

Mickey's tongue forced it's way into his mouth and Ian's quickly followed suit as they fought for dominance. They had never done this before, not once. Ian had wanted to but whenever he'd lean in closer to Mickey's face the guy would stick his hand over Ian's face and push him away, telling him to fuck off. But now they were doing it, they were kissing and biting and sucking on each other's tongues and Ian thought he could go on doing this forever, he would gladly keep his mouth glued to Mickey's for all eternity.

Ian wanted him closer, needed him closer, so he loosely draped his arms around Mickey's neck, pulling him forwards whilst he arched his back against the door.

"Ian, you're missing an awesome Gollum scene!" Kiera shouted from the living room.

The two of them laughed into each other; a pair of smiling lips against another. Right then Ian decided that that was the best thing he had ever felt. Well, maybe second best.

He panted a little as they reluctantly pulled apart. "Apparently I'm-" his breath caught in his throat once Mickey's mouth connected with his neck, biting and sucking, creating, by the feel of it, one hell of a hickey. "Missing out on... Gollum," he moaned out.

Mickey bit down hard a final time then walked backward towards his bed, a dirty smirk on his face. "You, uh," he stuck his tongue into the corner of his mouth, "might wanna wait a second, Firecrotch" he said nodding his head at Ian's pretty obvious hard-on.

"Yeah," Ian said with a breathy laugh, rearranging himself. "You kissed me," he said, smiling like a complete goon, knowing that Mickey hated it but not caring a single bit.

Mickey rolled his eyes at him and sat back down on his bed. "Yeah, well don't get fuckin' used to it," he said, trying to sound stern but Ian knew that whilst Mickey could lie like it was his job to, he could never fake his actions and Ian knew for an absolute fact that Mickey had loved that kiss just as much as he did and that he could and would get used it.

Ian laughed a little. "Right. See you tomorrow?" He sighed at Mickey's confused reaction. "Jesus, Mickey. It's your sister's birthday party."

"Oh right. Yeah, whatever, I'll be there," he said casually.

Ian smiled to himself at the sight of him devouring his sandwich as he walked out of his room.

He left an hour later because, even though the film hadn't even finished, he couldn't take another hour of The Lord Of The Rings.

Lip was in the kitchen toasting Pop Tarts when Ian walked into the house with that same smile still on his face, his heart still beating erratically, his mind still wondering how a kiss could be just as good as sex.

"Whoa," Lip put a hand to his chest when he made his way to the living room. "What's going on?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"What?"

"Well, you're smiling like a twat and that hickey on your neck is telling me you either finally swapped teams or you made up with Mickey."

Ian laughed a little, looking down at his feet, slightly embarrassed.

"So are the two you back to being... whatever the hell you were?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Good," Lip patted his shoulder and went back to his Pop Tarts, oblivious to how odd his brother had found his response.