Now that school was out, Mickey figured Ian would have a lot more free time, at least when he wasn't working, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He thought he felt something like, what, excitement? He was uncertain but he knew that he had no need to run from whatever it was he was feeling and so when Ian had text him asking if he wanted to hang out he told him to get his ass over to his house and that was how they ended up sat on the couch watching some shitty gangster movie that Mickey thought was like a terrible Goodfellas knockoff, but whatever, completely sober. Even though he and Kiera had bought a few fans for the house, the one in the living room really wasn't doing anything to cool the air down and the one in his room decided to stop working which was really the only reason Mickey could think of as to why he and Ian weren't fucking. And fuck it, he kind of liked hanging out with him, he sort of always had done and it was the main reason why he'd so gladly taken the job at the Kash and Grab when he had gotten out of juvie the first time.

Mickey was too busy thinking to notice Ian staring at him, smirking, no doubt down to the fact that Mickey always pulled this weird, squinty eyed face when he was thinking hard. When Mickey finally noticed he turned his head to face him, scowled and punched his arm.

Laughing, Ian rubbed at his arm because even though Mickey hadn't punched him properly, it still hurt. "You good? Looked like you were in pain or something," Ian laughed out.

Mickey shook his head. "Fuck off," he muttered as he stood and walked to the kitchen to get he and Ian a beer each.

The two of them, sort of reluctantly, got way too into the film, as shit as it was, and Mickey was kind of pissed off that it ended almost abruptly and the ending credits started rolling.

He really didn't have a clue why he spoke, like not a single one, but he did. "Found out who blew off Pervin' Mervin's arm," he said simply then took a swig of his beer and looked over at Ian who's eyes had grown wide at what Mickey had said.

After a second Ian squinted his eyes and turned his body and tucked a leg under him, his knee lightly resting on Mickey's thigh. "Bullshit," he said, smirking a little.

Mickey scoffed and raised his eyebrows at him. "Fuck you, man, I ain't lying," there was a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Oh yeah?" Ian asked and Mickey nodded. "Who did it then?"

"This psychologist lady I had to see in juvie. She used to live around here," he vaguely explained, his eyes not leaving Ian's and he blamed that on the way the sun was peaking through the curtains he had closed in an attempt to keep the heat out, making them fucking shine and so alluring.

Searching Mickey's face to see if he was lying, Ian drummed a thumb on his beer bottle. "Really?" he finally said.

Mickey nodded looking pleased with himself and Ian chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly and it made Mickey smile as much as he didn't want it to. Ian's laughter died down and he went back to staring at Mickey. "This psychologist, she diagnose you with anything? Like being a sociopath, maybe?" he asked, cocky.

If Mickey putting his beer down onto the coffee table wasn't a sign of what he was about to do, he didn't know what was. He launched himself at Ian and knocked him onto his back and the almost empty beer bottle onto the floor. This funny gasping sound left Ian's mouth and Mickey laughed down at him as he pinned him to the couch. Ian didn't struggle and there was no need to because Mickey wasn't being forceful in the slightest, he was actually being something close to gentle. All they did was stare at each other right in the eye for longer than most people would feel comfortable with. Sometimes they used to do this even when they first began fucking when there hadn't been enough time for either of them to develop feelings for each other; their eyes would bore into each other's and it wasn't due to lust, it wasn't for any real reason other than they wanted to look at the person who was slowly worming their way into their hearts.

Ian laughed and put his hands on Mickey's cheek before he could swat them away. But Mickey simply rolled his eyes and covered Ian's face with his hand and pushed down so his head was squashed against the cushion behind and he could feel Ian still laughing. He let go and put his face close to his. "You're the one who's fuckin' a sociopath," he snarled before biting down on Ian's neck, causing the guy to moan surprisingly loud seeing as all Mickey did was bite him.

A smile spread across Ian's face. "Guess that says more about me than you, huh?" Ian joked, his hands still on Mickey's face. He used his hold on him to pull Mickey close enough so that he could kiss him.

Mickey rolled his eyes and kissed him back, hard and fast before pulling away and lifting his wife beater off. "I'm hot as fuck," he sighed sitting back up in his original position but now with Ian's feet in his lap as he flicked through the channels to find something decent to watch. Ian hummed in agreement as his eyes studied the newly exposed flesh. Mickey watched as he did so and he wondered why the hell Ian loved looking at him so much. It confused him and right then it was making him all kinds of uncomfortable.

Pinching Ian's ankle, Mickey spoke. "Carry on staring and I'll gauge your fucking eyes out," he threatened, though his voice held no real threat, whilst he carried on flicking through the channels. In the corner of his eye, he could see Ian smirk and set his attention on the tv.

They watched another shitty film until Ian had to go to work. He got a knee to the groin when he tried to kiss Mickey goodbye.

The next day Mickey got up later than usual and that really was late because he only had an hour before he was supposed to go to the Gallaghers for Halo night with Lip. He wandered into the kitchen to get something to eat and saw Kiera sat at the table in nothing but her underwear.

Mickey ruffled up her hair as he passed her. "Forgotten you own clothes?" he asked, as he put the eggs and bacon Kiera had made for him onto a plate then sat down across from her. His comment lost all real meaning due to the fact that Mickey was only in his boxers.

There was no response from her but that's because there didn't need to be. "Are you hanging out with Lip tonight?" Mickey nodded. "Hm, I might drop in when Ian and I are done."

Mickey's head shot up before his brain could tell him that that wouldn't be very inconspicuous. He quickly cleared his throat and looked down at his food. "Done?" he asked, trying his best to speak in that casual way Kiera had down to a fucking science.

"We're going out, getting high," she explained, looking across at Mickey who was now frowning at his breakfast - technically it was a late lunch - like it had deeply offended him. Resting her arms on the table, Kiera leaned forward. "Do I detect the look of jealousy on one's face?" she asked with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes Mickey looked up at her. "Fuck off," he growled through a mouthful of bacon.

She smirked then stood up. "Don't worry, I shall refrain from putting his dick in my mouth." And she scurried away before Mickey could slap her or something.

After he finished eating he threw his plate into the already overflowing sink and went back into his room. Thanks to Kiera having this thing about cleanliness and her love of blackmail, Mickey's clothes never stayed dirty for long and he actually showered on a somewhat regular basis.

He walked over to the Gallaghers as fast as he could because the heat was unbearable. When he arrived the front door was already open so he walked right in and was greeted by Lip who was sat on the couch in cargo shorts and an unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt.

Mickey took him scooching aross as an invitation to sit down so he did, handing Lip the game.

After an hour of pretty intense game playing Lip got a six pack of beers out of the fridge and they sat back lazily, taking swigs from their beer every now and then in silence.

"Y'know, as bizzare as it is, I'm glad you're with my brother," Lip said, keeping his eyes firmly on the paused screen and Mickey figured it was because Lip knew that the two of them didn't really talk about Ian, not like this anyway, and that Mickey would still hit him if Lip pissed him off too much.

That should have made Mickey angry, it should have annoyed him, but it didn't. What it did do though, was confuse him. He didn't think anybody would be pleased to hear that he was in a something with Ian, least of all his fucking family, because, and even Mickey knew this, he was not someone you wanted your brother or son or someone you even slightly gave a shit about, hanging around with. There was a reason why people would stay away from him and the only people he used to hang out with were even bigger thugs than he was: Mickey was no good.

"Whatever man," he muttered.

"No, but seriously, the two of you-"

"Fucking drop it, alright," Mickey snapped, looking across at him. Looking, not scowling or frowning, just looking.

Lip nodded and Mickey let out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding when Lip changed the subject to Kiera because he could talk about her and listen to Lip go on about her. It sort of made Mickey want to laugh when he thought about how much Lip spoke to him about Kiera and his love life, hell, even his fucking sex life. Granted most of these conversations had taken place in just over a week when the two of them were high together - Mickey remembered Ian telling him ages ago how open and chatty Lip got when he was high - and Mickey had actually found himself answering some of Lip's questions about Ian. However, the same couldn't be said when he had asked him about what it felt like to have a dick up his ass. No, Mickey didn't answer that, not unless you count death threats as answers.

They finished their beers and went back to the game. Mickey didn't know how long they had been playing and he also didn't know when the hell they had both slid off the couch and sat cross legged on the floor with their backs against it. Neither he nor Lip barely noticed when Fiona and Jimmy came back and Lip nodded his head toward the back door when she asked where the kids were.

What the two of them did notice was the way Kiera and Ian came through the front door a little while later, arms around each other, eyes red and smiles dopey. They were high as fuck.

The moment Ian spotted Mickey he walked over to him and sat on the floor beside him, too close for comfort but that's what weed did to Gallagher, made him real fucking touchy feely.

"Ian," Mickey whispered harshly when the guy put an arm around his shoulders and began kissing his neck, "wanna cut that out?" he jerked his head away and looked hard at Ian's face and he probably should've seen it coming what with how high Ian was and how he was smirking but Mickey still gasped a little when Ian grabbed onto the back of his neck and started kissing him. It was sloppy and fast and Mickey didn't know why he wasn't putting a stop to it quicker than he did.

Finally Mickey pushed him away and swiped a hand across his mouth looking angrily at Ian who was still smirking and playing with the bottom of Mickey's hair.

"Dude," Lip said, getting Mickey's attention, "at least warn me if you're gonna do that so I can pause the game," he complained, clearly unfazed by what had just happened next to him.

Mickey mumbled out something that even he didn't understand and tried to ignore Ian's stares and the fingers in his hair.

When the rest of the Gallagher clan came back into the house via the kitchen for their dinner, Mickey decided he was going to leave because it would have been way too weird if he didn't, even though Jimmy and then Lip said he could and should stay. He turned them down as politely as a Milkovich could, which wasn't really that polite at all, and made for the bathroom upstairs because he had been there for hours and had had three beers.

Footsteps followed him up the stairs and when he got to the top of them Mickey swung roung to see Ian stood there looking up at him sheepishly. It had been just over an hour since Ian had kissed him and they hadn't said a word to each other since but after eating a whole bag of chips with Kiera, Ian was now almost completely sober and actually able to hold down a conversation that made sense.

Mickey glared at him. "Me standing up wasn't a fuckin' invitation," he said.

Ian put his hands in his pockets. "You're pissed at me, aren't you?" he tilted his head to the side and it reminded Mickey of Kiera even though that wasn't even one of the many habits she had.

"I can't believe you-"

"What? Kissed you?" Ian's voice rose a little but it was nothing more than a loud whisper.

Mickey looked at him like an idiot because right then in Mickey's mind, Gallagher was being an idiot.

It finally clicked. "That I kissed you in front of Lip and Kiera? Come on, Mick, Lip didn't even blink twice and I don't even think Kiera noticed, not that she'd care if she did," Ian went up the last step so that he was level with Mickey.

Mickey already knew all of that but that didn't mean he hadn't freaked out, it didn't mean that he felt good about it. He looked at Ian who was smiling a little at him and, even though he tried to do the contrary, Mickey couldn't stay pissed off at him when he looked like that, a fact he'd learnt a long time ago. "Whatever, you're still a fucking idiot," he mumbled quickly before he started to walk away.

A hand on his bicep twisted him until his back was against the wall and he had Ian's face in his. "You're the one who's fucking a fucking idiot," he whispered, his voice low and his hands sliding up the back of Mickey's shirt.

Mickey smirked and stuck his tongue into the corner of his mouth and put his hands on Ian's hips, slowly pulling him closer. Ian tilted his head slightly as he moved his face even nearer then he dragged his eyes away from Mickey's mouth to look in his eyes. Mickey took that as him asking if he could kiss him and fuck it, yes he could because Mickey didn't think he'd ever wanted to kiss Ian as much as he did right then so he nodded a little and without hesitation Ian crushed their lips together with such force that Mickey's head fell back and hit the wall. He didn't complain he simply kissed back harder, pushing his tongue into Ian's mouth and exploring it. Moaning low in his chest as Ian bit on his lip, Mickey dug his fingers into the guy's hips and smiled at the way Ian moaned into his mouth.

They had only kissed a handful of times, half of them before sex which meant they had been wild and out of control, but this seemed different Mickey; they were no more gentle than usual and yet he felt like they had never been more gentle. It made no logical sense.

Ian pulled back and rested his forhead on Mickey's, his eyes still closed. Mickey looked at him, moved his head and kissed him softly and it that was all it was meant to be but Ian kissed him back and so they stayed there kissing like they cared not just like they wanted to fuck. There was no tongue, no teeth, no grabbing hands. It was tame and controlled and Mickey didn't know why he thought he prefered it.

They both seemed to stop simultaneously and pull away from each other, but only a bit.

Ian licked his lips. "So, I still shouldn't get used to that?" he asked, with a cocky smirk because he already knew the honest answer.

Mickey punched him lightly in the stomach. "Fuck off and let me piss," he retorted because that was easier to say than 'yes, you actually can get used to it.'