Mickey woke to the hushed laughter of his sister and the mindless, unintelligible ramblings of Ian as he slept. It took a moment for him to remember why the fuck he had just woken up in the store-room of the Kash and Grab with Ian practically drooling on his shoulder, but then he looked down to see his hand splayed across Ian's thigh and it all came back to him.

Mandy cleared her throat, waking Ian and demanding Mickey's attention. "I see mine and Kiera's plan worked then," she said, cocky smirk on her face as she twirled the keys around on her finger.

"Bitch, you haven't got the fuckin' brains to come up with that shit," Mickey retorted. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had grown in them thanks to the hard, cold wall he'd been slumped against for the last couple of hours. "This has Kiera written all over it," he muttered looking down at Ian, though he couldn't exactly stay annoyed for long what with Ian being so close to him.

Again, Mandy cleared her throat and both of them twisted to look at her. "If you're really that comfortable, I can leave," she suggested sarcastically, "but that crazy bitch should be back soon, so..."

Ian lifted his head from Mickey's shoulder rolled his eyes at her. "She isn't that crazy," he said, though his words were lost on Mandy; she'd decided that Linda was insane a long time ago. Slowly, he stood and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, giving Mickey quite the eyeful of his lower abs which he couldn't look away from, despite his sister being present. Ian got his bag and grabbed the keys from Mandy, looking at both of them expectantly.

Mickey stood, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. He felt sort of uneasy as the three of them made their way out of the store-room, and had too many questions flying about inside his brain for him to make any sense of them, let alone decide which was most important. He could remember everything that had happened, he hadn't been that fucked, but he didn't understand quite what it meant. Sure, he could read Ian, understood what certain looks meant, but he didn't know if he was forgiven; the drugs may have turned Ian a little soft, made him quicker to respond to Mickey's apology than if he was sober. But he was sober now and wasn't yelling at him or ignoring him, he was sat behind the counter staring.

"Thinking?" Ian asked, sounding like he knew anyway.

Shrugging, Mickey looked down at his feet awkwardly. Sometime during his, what he hoped was short, thought process, Mandy had left, leaving the two of them alone again. Well, alone with one elderly woman checking out the apples.

"Uh, look," Ian started, "I've kind of gotta work, so." Ian wasn't meeting Mickey's glare, studying the pen in his hand instead.

Something felt a little off to Mickey. Was Ian still pissed? He couldn't really tell but he wasn't going to push the subject, not here. Maybe not anywhere. He stood a little straighter. "Right, yeah, see ya," he said quickly as he headed out.

The air hadn't gotten any warmer nor the sky brighter; it was a shitty excuse for a Summer's day. Hurriedly, he put on his jacket and walked the short distance home, not even bothering to light up a cigarette despite the craving. Really, he should have felt better, like he had done when Ian had first cuddled up to him, because he had done what he'd wanted to do, needed to do. It hadn't exactly entered Mickey's mind that that wouldn't be enough.

Kiera was sprawled along the couch when he got inside, in just her lacy black underwear and it was obvious that if he'd walked in maybe five minutes earlier, he would've caught her and Lip going at it. He hated that he knew what Kiera's fucking afterglow face looked like. She instantly perked up when she saw him and made space for him. He pulled a face and sat on the arm of the couch because there was no way he was going to accidentally sit in Lip's come. Not after the fucking first time. The mere thought of that memory made his stomach turn.

Noticing his discomfort, Kiera snorted. "Oh, right, because you and Ian have never fucked on the couch before," she said disbelievingly.

"No," Mickey responded because that was actually true, surprisingly.

Kiera rolled her eyes anyway then glanced toward the kitchen where Lip was making as much noise as possible. "So, Mandy text me, told me our plan worked."

Mickey looked down at his hands dangling between his knees and bent forward. He rested his elbows on his legs and put his head in his hands for a couple of seconds. He wasn't sure what to say. Had their - Kiera's - plan worked? Was he back in Gallagher's good books? He didn't know. He felt so out of the loop even though there was only one other person in it.

"Oh," Kiera whispered, crawling across the cushions toward Mickey. "It didn't?" she asked, sounding too sad for someone who wasn't immediately involved in the situation.

Shrugging, Mickey looked at her. "I apologised, he, like, kinda went back to normal, huggin' me and shit," he explained, never once looking at her. The tv that wasn't actually on getting his full attention.

Kiera knelt up and from the corner of his eye, Mickey could make out her questioning look, willing him to carry on. He didn't really want to, but if anyone was going to help him or at least not laugh at his faggy self, it would be Kiera. Besides, Lip was making too much noise in the kitchen to hear them. So he turned to face her and went on. "He was high, though. We both were and then we fell asleep and when we woke up, he seemed different."

"Different how?"

Mickey sighed. "I don't know, like, maybe he didn't give a shit that I said sorry, like he only reacted like that 'cause he was high. I mean, come on, he hugs fuckin' everyone when he's high," Mickey ran his thumb across his bottom lip, "can't keep his damn hands to himself," he muttered, sounding more annoyed than he meant to because when Ian got handsy with other people, especially his and Mandy's friends Mickey didn't really know, Mickey fucking hated it.

"Calm down, Mr. Possessive," Kiera joked, patting his knee. "Okay, so maybe he wouldn't have accepted your apology so quickly and willingly if he weren't high, but he still would have." Mickey shot her an incredulous look, one brow raised. "Oh, trust me, he would have," she clarified and he believed her. "You just have to let him know that he can relax, that you aren't going to run off or push him away again. That'll take more than an apology."

"How the fuck am I meant to do that?" Mickey was well aware of the fact that he didn't use his words in the best of ways and there was no way in hell he was going to profess his love or write a song or buy Ian flowers or some shit. No. Way.

"Nothing grand," Kiera said casually, sitting back on her heels. She took a moment, most probably to think, Mickey thought, then looked back at him. "Right, so you and Ian are both kind of messed up when it comes to relationships and whatnot, right? It's not as though either of you have witnessed healthy relationships between your parents. I'm the same. Which is probably why Ian didn't immediately see anything too wrong about his thing with Kash and why you used to think having sex with someone more than once was too much of a commitment. It's probably why Lip stayed with Karen for so long even though she was eating away at him-"

"Hey!" Lip shouted from the kitchen. Shit, apparently he could hear.

Kiera shrugged off the interruption and resumed her speech that Mickey thought she must have rehearsed or something. "The point is, he's already emotionally scarred from a lot of shit, so are you. But the two of you find comfort in each other and what with all the people that have left Ian's life when they should've stuck around, he needs to know that if he holds onto you, you aren't going to push him away. Again. And you have to understand that being scared isn't a good enough reason to make someone feel like they aren't wanted. You need him just as much as he needs you and you're going to have to suck it up and prove to him. Again." She took a deep breath and Mickey stared at her, slightly open-mouthed and taken aback.

For a few seconds all he could do was stare and try to soak in everything that Kiera had said. It made sense, that was for sure. But it didn't explain what he needed to do and Mickey wasn't an expert at relationships, not by a long shot. Had never been in one or something remotely resembling one. Except with Ian. There are a lot of things he's only done with Ian; said to Ian; felt because of Ian. He was about to ask Kiera, again, how he was supposed to do that, but she got there first.

"You have to get closer to him," she instructed and Mickey all of a sudden felt weird about all of it. He felt weird about getting advice from Kiera about his relationship like they were a couple of girls at a sleepover discussing their boyfriend troubles. Truthfully, he felt pathetic that he genuinely needed someone to tell him how to act. And the fact that that was the moment Lip decided to give up whatever the fuck it was he was doing in the kitchen and grace Mickey with his fucking sense of humour only made him feel worse.

"Closer? He's had Ian's dick up his ass, how much closer can they get?" he asked with a wicked smirk on his face.

Mickey sent him a warning glare but it really didn't have the intended effect. All Lip did in response was jump over the back of the sofa and land gracelessly beside Kiera.

Kiera turned her back to her boyfriend. "Ask him out," she said casually. "Maybe not on a real date but invite him over here properly, order some take out, watch a movie, talk about real things. Oh and use your words well, don't just swear at him," she said, half serious, half joking.

Mickey stopped himself from telling her to fuck off, instead nodding his head. That wasn't a terrible idea. Mickey could probably do that. They had eaten together before, watched a movie together before, talked together before; putting all three together wouldn't be so hard. Shouldn't be so hard. Mickey stood and made his way to his room, nodding his thank you at Kiera who nodded back.

Later that night, whilst Mickey should have been sleeping seeing as he had work at nine in the morning, Kiera shuffled into his room. She closely resembled the girl from The Ring, but Mickey didn't say anything. Simply allowing her to crawl into bed beside him because she no longer snuck onto his couch in the middle of the night, upgrading to his bed. It never happened more than a few times a week, so Mickey didn't really mind that much, he knew better than to bother her about it because she always looked so lost, almost scared, as she stared up at the ceiling. It was probably the weirdest thing she did. And for someone so strong, not only physically, she never seemed so weak.

There was really no reason Mickey should have been so nervous. He had a plan. Well, he sort of knew what he was going to do. Okay, so Mickey didn't have a plan whatsoever, but really, how fucking hard was it to ask someone to hang out when you've already fucked. A lot. He didn't need a plan, he never usually planned anything. All he had to do was tell Ian to hang out with him. It was simple. So simple. Even so, his heart hadn't stopped hammering away in his chest at an alarming rate all through work and he'd been asked if he was feeling okay more times than he had liked. Mostly by Louis, so that wasn't too bad.

But still, his heart seemed to actually speed up - like how the fuck was that even possible, was it going to burst or something? - as Louis drove him home in his beaten up, old car that took a whole minute to start-up. It didn't help one bit that Louis drove exceptionally slow because his mom had drilled it into his head that he would instantly die if he drove faster than twenty miles an hour. Mickey just needed to get there so he could get the fuck on with it.

"You good, bro?" Louis asked when they stopped at a red light.

Mickey adjusted his white work top, only then realising how dirty he had gotten it. "Yeah," he lied, "Hey, y'know the Kash and Grab?" He waited for Louis to nod. "Drop me off there."

And ten minutes later, though if Louis drove like a normal person it would've taken only two, they pulled up outside the Kash and Grab. Mickey quickly got out, casually waving goodbye. As soon as Louis drove away, Mickey stood at the door. Just stood there, trying to calm the fuck down. His heart, somehow, was beating even faster now, because apparently it had plans to escape through his chest. He shook his head, forcing the unwanted thoughts from his head and opened the door nearly colliding with a couple of kids with handfuls of chocolate. Once inside, Mickey gave the place a quick look, checking they were alone, before setting his gaze on Ian.

"Hey," Ian greeted with a half-smile, looking up from the magazine he'd been flicking through. He squinted at Mickey's body, clearly confused about his outfit.

"Work," Mickey said.

Ian nodded. "Oh yeah, how's that going?" he asked.

"Fine, I guess," he answered, taking a little step forward. "So, uh, what time do you get off?"

Smirking, Ian raised an eyebrow. "Well-"

"Not a fuckin' euphemism," Mickey muttered, fighting the urge to smile at Ian's filthy fucking mind.

"Okay," Ian laughed, "eight, why?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Clearing his throat, Mickey pushed his hands deep into his jeans pockets. "Come over after." Because he blatantly didn't understand the concept of asking people to do something rather than telling them to and didn't think Ian would say no anyhow.

The look on Ian's face both amused and worried Mickey. It made sense that Ian would be a little shocked, but judging by his expression, anyone would think Mickey had just proposed to him. After blinking several times in a row, he spoke. "Okay," he said slowly, "to do what?" There was a deeper meaning to that question and Mickey knew it; knew that Ian was asking if it was just some sort of booty call, just sex. It wasn't. In fact Kiera had threatened bodily harm if he did have sex with Ian on their "date" because this was supposed to show he could actually be a "real boyfriend". He wasn't going to even try to defy her because she could always tell when he'd had sex. The freak.

"Hang out, eat some food, watch a couple of movies or not, we can go on the X-Box instead if you want or something else," he rambled, before he could stop himself. "Whatever, just come over. Alright?" He was slightly flustered now, waiting anxiously for Ian's answer.

"Yeah, sure."

Mickey nodded at him, unsure of what to do. So he stared at Ian because he wanted to; always fucking wanted to. And Ian stared back with a smile in his eyes and immediately Mickey's heart began to slow down, beating to a calm rhythm. They stared until a customer opened the door and unsettled the silence. Mickey left shortly after, his legs moving so fast, he may aswell have been jogging.

Nobody was home and he couldn't work out if that was good or bad. It's not like he was freaking out, he wasn't, but he felt restless. For four hours he was going to have to keep himself entertained and his mind busy enough so that he didn't fixate on the events of later that day.