Mike and Micky didn't speak again before they went to bed; Mike knew that for tonight anyway, there was nothing more to say.

Micky fell asleep right away, but Mike stayed awake all night. Mike laid on top of the covers, his arm slung protectively over Micky next to him, stroking his hair gently all night long. It reminded Mike of how he'd stroke his sons' hair if one of them had had a bad dream. But Mike knew that Micky's nightmare was real and what upset Mike the most was that he hadn't been there to protect Micky from the monster under the bed.

After sunrise, Mike moved to sit on the window ledge where he sat watching over the bed until Micky woke up a while later. Micky was laying facing away from Mike, on the far side of the bed, and Mike noticed the curly-haired man reach behind him and start feeling around like he was looking for something - or someone.

"I'm here." Mike called gently.

Micky lifted his head, twisting himself so he could see Mike behind him.

"I thought you'd be gone." Micky said quietly as he rolled onto his back and sat himself up.

Mike watched his boy carefully. "Did you really think that?" He asked seriously.

Micky rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked away.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked after a moments silence.

Micky shrugged. "Stupid, embarrassed..." He replied frankly. "It's funny, really; I didn't realise there was a level where it's impossible to feel any more shame."

Mike frowned. "You have nothin' to be ashamed about." He told him firmly, causing Micky to look at the Texan. "What you told me last night...it changes nothing."

Micky looked at Mike in disbelief. "How can you say that?" He asked softly.

Mike stared at Micky before standing up and walking towards the curly-haired man. Mike perched himself on the edge of the bed and gazed at Micky. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you." Mike replied sincerely.

Micky continued to look at Mike for a moment before looking down at the quilt that covered him. "I know how much it meant to you that I'm the only man you've ever been with, and you were the only man I'd ever been with... but all of that has changed now." He said quietly.

Mike couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You think that's what's important to me out of all this?" Mike asked, his face scrunched up. "What I care about most is what those men did to you."

Micky closed his eyes. "I wasn't forced, Mike." He sighed. "They didn't make me. I was drunk and coked-up, yeah... but they were too."

"Why the hell are you making excuses for them?" Mike asked in disbelief.

Micky looked up. "Because it's the truth." He said. He looked at Mike with far more confidence than he had the night before. "I wasn't forced. I'm not some kind of victim... well, apart from being a victim of my own stupidity."

Mike shook his head in complete disagreement. "They took advantage of you." He stressed.

"I wanted it." Micky hit back before looking away thoughtfully. "I thought I did at first, anyway. It seemed like a good idea at the time... I liked being wanted. I wanted them to want me, and I knew what was going to happen... it was a game to them and it was a game to me too but once I started playing I didn't like it. I was like a stupid little boy climbing a tall tree; I wanted to go higher and higher but once I got to the top I didn't know how to get down again."

Micky looked at Mike again. "They took advantage of me, yeah... but I gave them the advantage." He stared Mike in the eye, trying to get his point across. "These were my bad decisions, my stupid choices... This isn't about excuses - it's about accepting responsibility for my mistakes. I didn't know how I'd feel afterwards - I was too fucked-up to care at the time. I didn't know how small and cheap I'd feel when it was all over... but I got myself into that situation in the first place."

Mike rubbed his face as he was still finding it incredibly difficult to hear Micky talk like that. "They still shouldn't have done it." He said, closing his eyes. "You were vulnerable and they should've left you alone."

"But I still kept going back to Tony." Micky stated, causing Mike to look up. "What does that tell you?"

Mike shook his head slowly. He was finding it so hard to understand. "I don't- I don't get it." He said, looking away and shaking his head again. "Why are you blaming yourself for all of this? Why did you keep going back to Tony if he degraded you like that?"

"Because I was drunk." Micky replied flatly. "I was drunk for weeks. I wasn't thinking straight; I was reckless and stupid and irresponsible. I was being self-destructive and- and I wanted drugs. I wanted coke and Tony could give it to me. Everything else just sort of went along with it. He'd say these things to me, and..."

Micky trailed off. He run his fingers through his hair and looked away totally embarrassed.

"And what?" Mike asked. "What did he say to you?"

Micky closed his eyes and sighed in defeat.

"Did he threaten you?" Mike asked in panic.

Micky looked up and shook his head. "No... he didn't threaten me." He replied.

Mike's mind was spinning and he looked at Micky blankly, willing him to elaborate on what he'd said.

"He...he said things to me... nice things. And he..." Micky scratched his head as if he was facing another inner battle over whether to continue or not. "Some of the things he said, they," Micky sighed again in defeat. "They reminded me of you."

Micky visibly cringed as he looked away. Once again Mike was left with a feeling of disbelief, failing to comprehend what Micky had just told him.

Micky looked up again, noticing the look of horror on Mike's face. "I know it's stupid." He continued. "But he would say things that'd remind me of things you used to say to me... and I liked it. I knew it was fake. I-I knew it was his way of manipulating me... but sometimes I liked it. He'd-he'd make me feel special. And even though I knew it wasn't real, it-it was nice."

Mike felt like his heart was about to break.

"When I was drunk all the time and hadn't slept and I was feeling like shit about myself, sometimes I just wanted to hear something nice." Micky said sheepishly. He was clearly embarrassed - his face was red and he couldn't even look at Mike. "H-He'd say I was beautiful and special and stuff and... it reminded me of you."

Mike's eyes were filled with desperate sadness as they fixed on Micky.

Micky managed to look up. "I know it wasn't real." He said quietly. "I never thought for a minute that he cared about me like you do. I know he didn't care about me at all. B-But I was so fucked-up, and... I'm sorry. I-I know it makes no sense. I don't expect you to understand. I told you that he made me feel like shit about myself, but now I'm telling you he'd sometimes make me feel nice, and... I don't expect you to get it, because it's fucked-up."

Mike shook his head slowly as he tried to process everything. "What the hell did I do to you?" He gasped.

"It's not your fault." Micky responded desperately. He reached out and grabbed hold of Mike's hand. "Don't you get it? The reason I'm so embarrassed and cut-up about everything is because I brought all of this on myself."

Mike bit his lip and hung his head sadly. "If I never left you, none of this would've happened... none of it."

"Don't." Micky said firmly, causing Mike to look up. "Don't you fucking dare blame yourself. I didn't tell you so you'd torture yourself. You had no idea I'd act like such a screw up. You didn't know I'd do all that stupid shit."

Mike shook his head again.

"I'm embarrassed, Mike." Micky continued frankly. His face was red but he looked like he'd passed the point of letting it upset him - he'd grown in confidence. "I'm embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I... I have a daughter, for God's sake. I was about to become a dad and I was behaving like that. Do you have any idea how shit that makes me feel?"

Mike watched Micky for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Yes," He replied quietly. He cleared his throat. "I do know what it feels like. We've all done things we regret, Mick. God knows I have."

Mike stood up and slowly started to pace the room while Micky watched him intently. "I cheated on my wife, Micky." Mike said. "I cheated on her a lot. I got another woman pregnant while my wife was pregnant." He paused and looked at Micky. "My head was messed up then too. I ain't makin' excuses... but my brain was fried because I was in love with you and I didn't even know about it. But I didn't have the excuse of being drunk or on drugs. I hurt a lot of people by just being me."

Micky continued to stare up at Mike.

"So I do know what it's like to be ashamed of myself." Mike continued. "I know what it's like to make mistakes and have regrets."

Micky drew a shaky breath in as he looked down sadly.

"I've done a hell of a lot I ain't proud of and I've hurt a lot of people - including you." Mike said.

Micky's head snapped up. "That's not the same thing at all." He said in a small voice. "What I did was... gross."

"It don't matter to me." Mike stated. He sat himself on the edge of the bed again. "What I care about is how you feel about yourself. Last night...you were a mess. You were shakin' and you couldn't- you couldn't even let me touch you."

Micky's eyes fell to the floor. "I couldn't let you be with me without knowing what I'm like." He said honestly. "I- I didn't think you'd want me if you knew the truth."

Mike tilted his head to the side and looked at Micky with the deepest sympathy. "I could never not want you." He whispered. "You scared me last night... I didn't know what was wrong and then when I came home and found you'd been drinking and-"

"Where had you gone?" Micky asked suddenly, cutting Mike off as a look of panic filled his eyes. He'd clearly only just recalled Mike being gone for two hours the night before. "P-Please don't tell me you went to find Tony."

Mike shook his head quickly. "Hey," He said, grabbing hold of Micky's hand. "I didn't go see Tony. I promised you I wouldn't, didn't I?"

Micky sighed with relief. "Well where did you go?" He wondered. "You were gone ages, I... I didn't think you were coming back."

Mike tutted guiltily. "I didn't go anywhere; I just walked." He replied. "I just needed to clear my head but I lost track of time and... I felt awful when I realised it was so late."

Micky looked away and it was his turn to look guilty. "I'm sorry I'd been drinking..." He said.

"It was a shock to find you like that." Mike admitted. He reached up and took hold of Micky's chin, turning the slightly-younger man's head to face him. "You scared me."

"Sorry." Micky said quietly.

"I was more worried about the cocaine." Mike said, looking Micky straight in the eye. "Where did you get it, Mick?"

"I never got rid of it." Micky confessed, looking down shamefully. "When I was trying to clean up my act over Christmas and the new year, I stayed with Davy and then my mom. When Sammy agreed to live with me I had a big sort out and got rid of so much shit... all the booze. Even my stash of weed. But a while after Sammy moved in I found a bag of coke shoved in the back of a drawer in my room, and I... I just ended up putting it back."

Micky sighed and run his fingers through his hair. "I hid it away," He continued. "And to be honest I totally forgot I even had it. I haven't touched it or even looked at it since then, but last night... I don't know."

"But you promise you didn't use any last night?" Mike asked. He knew he'd questioned Micky about it the night before, but he had to be absolutely certain that his boy was telling the truth.

Micky nodded. "I thought about it. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted, but I didn't use any. I promise." He said, looking Mike straight in the eye. "If I hadn't had done that shit in the first place I never would've done any of that other stupid stuff."

"I'm proud of you for getting rid of it." Mike said sincerely.

Micky smiled weakly before looking away.

The two men were silent for a moment. Micky picked at his fingernail while Mike continued to watch his boy intently.

"Mick," Mike said, causing Micky to look up. "T-The fact that you've, uh, that you've been with other men, it- it don't change the way I see ya or feel about ya."

Micky's cheeks flushed pink. "Doesn't it..?" He asked painfully, unconvinced by Mike's words.

"No," Mike shook his head. "Because you're still you, and, uh... I don't like what Tony and his friends did to you. I- I hate it. You might say it's your fault but I don't agree; they shouldn't have done that or made you feel that way. That's- that's what I have a hard time with. Last night you told me that- you told me that they hurt ya, and..." Mike took a breath as he tried to keep his cool while Micky looked away embarrassed. "You were really upset last night, Mick. That's what gets me."

"I just felt really ashamed." Micky admitted quietly. "I knew I'd have to tell you about it eventually, but... I just wanted to forget it. And because of my stomach I knew I kinda had an excuse to not...you know, do anything for a while. But I knew I couldn't use that excuse forever, and last night I- I just panicked. When you were- when you started touching me I just freaked."

"You should've told me." Mike said, tilting his head to the side. "I never would've done anythin' to make you feel uncomfortable, you know that."

"I do know that." Micky looked up. "But it's not an easy thing to bring up in conversation, is it? I could hardly just say; "oh Mike, by the way, the reason we haven't had sex again yet is because when we split up I acted like a massive slut and let a bunch of seedy jerks pass me around like a bowel of potato chips at a party and now I feel like shit about it.""

Mike looked away quickly, unsure whether to be disturbed or relieved that Micky was talking so frankly about his issues. Either way, it wasn't nice for Mike to hear Micky talk like that.

"I'm sorry." Micky sighed regretfully, clearly realising he'd been a bit too harsh with his choice of words. "I didn't mean to say it like that."

Mike looked up. "I don't like hearing you talk badly about yourself." He said seriously. "I can't stand it, Mick. I don't want you to say those things."

"It's true though." Micky shrugged sadly.

"I mean it, Micky. Don't do it." Mike warned. "I swear to god. I can't have you put yourself down like that."

Micky looked away like a naughty little child who'd just been told off.

Mike grabbed hold of Micky's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I love you." He stated.

Micky looked at Mike again sheepishly. "I love you too." He said quietly.

Mike gazed at Micky for a while before he spoke again. "I still want you." He said quietly. "I don't see you any different because of what you told me. You're still my boy. You're still my Mick."

Micky stared at Mike. "Do you really mean that?" He asked softly.

Mike placed his hand on the side of Micky's face. "What do I have to do to prove it?" He asked.

Micky shrugged his shoulders. "Don't leave me, I guess..." He said shyly.

Mike placed his other hand on the side of Micky's face and gazed at his boy lovingly. "I will never leave you." He stated firmly. "Not because of this, not because of anything."

Micky sighed shakily.

Mike released Micky's face from his hands and sat back. He stared ahead thoughtfully. "We... we don't have to do anything. You know, sex or anythin'..." He said, feeling a little embarrassed. He turned his head to notice Micky looking at him curiously. "Not that I don't wanna do anything." Mike corrected quickly. "Because I told ya; I do still want you. This ain't changed anything for me. Well it has, but only if it's changed somethin' for you."

Micky still watched Mike carefully as the Texan found himself getting a little flustered as he tried to find the right words to say, desperate to get his point across and reassure his partner.

Mike stared at Micky before taking a deep breath. "What I mean is, the fact that you've been with other guys doesn't make me stop wanting to be intimate with you." He continued with a little bit more confidence than before. "I mean, you'd been with women before, hadn't ya? And so had I. So this doesn't make much difference at all. But what I mean is... if it's changed something for you, then... well, we don't have to do nothin'. Or we can just take things really slow, and wait until you're ready for us to...you know."

Micky looked slightly on edge but at the same time he looked comforted by Mike's words.

"Whatever you want, I don't mind." Mike went on. "I just want us to be okay and you to be happy. I still wanna hold ya and kiss ya and touch ya and- and make love to ya. Nothin' is gonna change that. But if you don't want that, then... we'll figure it out. Or like I said, we'll just wait. I ain't interested in doin' anything you don't wanna do. I ain't gonna push ya or rush ya or-"

Mike was cut off by Micky pressing his lips to the Texan's in a firm, deep and loving kiss. Mike was taken aback by the display of affection, and when Micky pulled back Mike was left feeling a little breathless.

"You're so amazing." Micky whispered, stroking Mike's cheek tenderly with his thumb, his face not far away from the Texan's.

Mike gazed at Micky. "I ain't done nothin'." He said quietly.

Micky smiled. He stared into Mike's eyes for several moments before speaking again. "Taking things slow sounds good." He said with a small, shy smile on his lips. He continued to stroke Mike's face with his thumb. "I think I'd like to wait a little while, if that's okay."

"Of course it is." Mike replied, lacing his fingers with Micky's. "I told ya, we can do whatever you want whenever you want. I just want you to be happy."

"Do you know what else I want?" Micky asked.

Mike tilted his head to the side curiously.

"I want you to not blame yourself for any of this." Micky replied honestly, his eyes sincere and kind. "I mean it. I'll try my hardest to not be down on myself if you promise me you won't blame yourself for any of my hang-ups, okay?"

Mike wasn't sure he'd be able to switch his guilt off just like that, but he was fairly certain that Micky wouldn't be able to get rid of his insecurities just like that, either.

Mike smiled and nodded his head. "It's a deal." He said.

Micky smiled. It was a relaxed smile that in turn made Mike smile, too. Micky then held his arms out to Mike, and the couple embraced in a deep, loving hug. Mike held Micky tightly in his arms, rubbing his back gently and sighing deeply as he tried to absorb everything he had learnt since the night before. Mike felt a little relief that there was no longer any secrets between himself and Micky, but there was one final thing he felt he needed to ask.

Mike pulled back and smiled at Micky's sweet face. He brushed his fingers through Micky's soft, curly hair and sighed once more. "There's one last thing I need to ask ya, Mick."

"Okay?" Micky said, sitting back and looking at Mike expectantly.

Mike felt a little uneasy, but he felt they might as well get everything out in the open now. "You said you'd been with other guys... you know, not just Tony and his friends." Mike begun awkwardly. "You said there had been other, you know, other men, too."

"That's right." Micky responded softly, still watching Mike with intrigue.

Mike started playing with his hands nervously. "I was just uh, I was just wondering... why?" Mike asked, looking up.

"Because I wanted to get over you." Micky replied frankly.

Mike was surprised by that answer, and although he was expecting Micky to elaborate, the curly-haired man just continued to look at the Texan.

"That's it?" Mike asked.

Micky shrugged. "Yeah, it is." He replied. "I wanted to get over you, and I thought if I could be with another guy... I dunno, I just thought it might work. It didn't though, obviously. I know it was totally stupid. I mean, I was with some girls too, but it was mostly men. I'd go to this gay bar and... it was pretty easy. I thought being with other guys would help me move on somehow."

Mike fidgeted awkwardly.

"I wanted to forget about you." Micky continued. He was speaking candidly and confidently which Mike really admired. "But that didn't work either... Actually, it had the opposite effect. To tell you truth, it made me think about you even more. And sometimes, a lot of the time, I would actually think about you when I was...you know. It was usually the only way I could get off."

Mike felt his cheeks flush red and he looked away. He had absolutely no idea how to feel about that; the thought of Micky being with any other man made Mike feel awfully uncomfortable, and the thought of Micky getting off while being with another man made Mike feel uneasy too. But knowing that Micky could only enjoy being with somebody else while thinking about him was both of relief and disturbance for the Texan.

"I've made you feel uncomfortable." Micky stated, causing Mike to look up. "You probably don't know whether to be flattered or grossed-out, do you?"

Mike scratched his head awkwardly. "I-I don't really know how to feel."

Micky sighed. "It was just meaningless sex. I'm not proud of it, but it's like what I said before; I was drunk all the time. I wasn't thinking straight - who does think straight when they're drunk?"

"I just... I wanted to know." Mike said quietly. He felt guilty for questioning Micky even more, but he needed to know all the facts so he could process them properly.

"It's okay." Micky said in a small voice. "I'd wanna know too, if it was you. Not that you'd do what I did, but still..."

"I'm sorry." Mike sighed. "I don't want it to seem like I'm hounding you for answers... I'm just- I'm just trying to understand."

"I know you are." Micky smiled. "I didn't kiss any of them, you know. Not on the lips... I know that hardly makes a dfference, but... but it makes a difference to me."

Mike watched Micky in surprise and he felt strangely moved by that confession.

"Kissing me on the lips was the one thing I didn't allow." Micky continued. "And while we're being totally honest, there's something else you should probably know too."

Mike instantly panicked - what else could there possibly be?

"It's nothing bad." Micky stressed quickly, picking up on Mike's concern. "It's a good thing. Well, not good exactly... but it's not bad. Good probably isn't the right word for it. But it's a relief, that's for sure, even though it is kinda embarrassing..."

Mike was totally confused now. "What is it?"

Micky looked at Mike for a moment. "I got myself checked out a couple of months ago," He begun. "I was worried that I might have...you know, caught something." Mike immediately tensed up. "But I hadn't." Micky said quickly. "I'm totally fine. I don't- I don't have anything, which kinda surprised me seeing as I wasn't exactly responsible when I was behaving the way I was."

Mike sucked a deep breath in, desperate to appear unaffected by Micky's words.

"I've made you feel awkward again." Micky sighed guiltily. Mike looked up. "I'm really sorry. I just thought you'd want to know but you probably didn't dare ask."

Mike blinked. "I-I hadn't even thought about it." He said honestly. "It hadn't even crossed my mind."

Micky blushed and looked down as a slightly uncomfortable silence filled the room. "It's funny," Micky said after a few seconds silence - although it felt like a lot longer. "You'd think I'd be all maxed-out on the embarrassment front, but nope..."

Mike tilted his head to the side. "Micky..."

"It's okay." Micky stressed, looking up. "You don't have to feel bad about anything. I mean, I might as well be honest with you. The cats out of the bag now; you know what I'm really like, so I figured you might be relieved to know that I don't have any nasty diseases or anything."

Mike immediately tensed up again.

"And now I've made you feel even worse." Micky said, a nervous energy clearly pulsing through his slim body. "I don't really know when to shut up, do I? You know what I'm like when I'm nervous; I either go really quiet or I lose the ability to stop talking. So I just talk and talk and talk and end up making the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was because I just don't know how to-"

"Micky," Mike said again, a small smile on his face. "It's okay, darlin'. You don't need to feel nervous."

Micky sucked a deep, shaky breath in. Mike realised instantly that although Micky was speaking a lot more confidently about his past and all the things he'd done, he wasn't confident at all. In fact, when Mike looked into Micky's almond shaped eyes, he could see the frank, straight-talking Micky had all been an act - Micky was still embarrassed about the things he'd told Mike and he was still riddled with shame.

Mike took hold of Micky's hand again and looked at his boy lovingly. "We will get through this, Mick." He assured him. "You will get through this."

Micky stared at Mike. "I don't want you to think I'm damaged or anything." He said in a small voice.

"I don't think that." Mike shook his head. "I told you, this changes nothing. You believe me, don't you?"

Micky looked at Mike uncertainly, clearly contemplating the Texan's words.

"I believe you." Micky finally said, a small smile on his lips.

"Good boy." Mike smiled.

Mike had to leave Micky not long after they had finished their discussion about Micky's past as Mike was spending the afternoon with Jason, the son he had with his former-mistress Nurit.

Mike was relieved to have something to distract him from everything Micky had told him - for the most part, anyway. As nice as it was to spend some quality time with the son he didn't get to see that often, Mike did find his mind wandering back to Micky a lot. All the time, actually.

After Mike had dropped Jason home with his mother, Mike didn't go straight to Micky's house like he had said he would. Instead, Mike needed a little bit of time on his own to think and reflect on everything he'd learnt about his partner over the past 24 hours.

Mike's head was mashed. Although he and Micky had reached an understanding and effectively cleared the air, Mike couldn't help but be totally devastated to learn what had become of his boy when they were apart. Mike was hung up on the fact that Micky had been with other men. It was something he kept thinking about over and over again. He felt selfish and stupid for dwelling on it so much; Micky was single at the time and had every right to do whatever - and whoever - he wanted.

It was only when Mike asked himself the question; "would you care so much if it had only been women he'd slept with?" that he realised how ridiculous he was being. No, Mike wouldn't care as much if Micky had just been having loads of meaningless sex with women. He would still care, but not on the same level.

Mike realised that his problem was with the fact that he could never picture himself with another man. That thought was completely alien to Mike; it was something he'd never even considered. Sleeping with women had never been a big deal for Mike; sleeping with men - a man - was. Micky was the only man Mike had given himself to, and although he knew that would always be the way for him, it wasn't that way for Micky - and that was what bothered him so much.

But why was gender important? When Mike looked at Micky, he didn't see a gender - he saw a person. And most importantly of all, Mike saw a person he loved and adored.

Mike sat in silence thinking long and hard about whether what Micky had told him changed the way he viewed him. He knew it didn't change the way he felt about Micky - at the end of the day, Mike knew there was nothing Micky could say that would make him stop loving him. But how about the way he saw Micky? Could Mike really see his boy differently just because he was jealous?

But then Mike thought about how Micky must've felt to know that Mike was back with his wife. Mike was living with his wife; sharing a house, a bed, a life and a marriage with somebody else. Although Mike had only slept with Phyllis once, Micky didn't know that - and sex was hardly the most important thing in that scenario.

Mike soon realised he didn't have much of a right to feel jealous about Micky's relations with anyone else - man or woman. And he certainly didn't have a right to let it change the way he viewed him. Mike certainly didn't see Micky as damaged. He didn't see Micky as a slut. Instead he saw the man he loved; someone who'd been having a tough time and who dealt with things in a bad way. He saw a good person with a good heart who had made a few silly mistakes and paid the price for them.

The thing that still affected Mike the most though was Tony. That was something Mike definitely couldn't let go of or view as meaningless. Mike was disgusted by the power this man had had over Micky and he still couldn't shake his feeling of guilt and responsibility for the whole mess in the first place. Mike wondered what he'd do if he ever laid eyes on Tony and if he'd be able to stop himself from tearing that man's arms and legs off.

Mike wanted to break Tony. He wanted to destroy Tony and his friends for what they did to Micky. Mike knew that if he was going to get over this, he had to stop picturing it. He knew he couldn't afford to allow himself to be too hung up on it or otherwise it would affect his relationship with his partner. Mike knew he had to block it out. At the end of the day, it had happened and there was nothing he could do to change it. If Micky was prepared to move past it, then Mike knew he had to move past it, too.

Mike did a lot of soul-searching before he eventually returned to Micky's. When Mike stripped everything away, the only thing left standing that mattered was that he loved Micky and nothing Micky had told him could ever have any impact on that. As a result, the first thing Mike did when he walked into Micky's house was plant a huge, deep kiss on his partner's lips.

"What was that for?" Micky asked breathlessly after Mike broke the kiss.

"Do I need a reason?" Mike asked, stroking Micky's hair gently. "I love you. And I don't want you to forget it."

Micky gazed at the Texan. "I guess you've been doing a lot of thinking today, huh?" He wondered.

"Yeah... You could say that." Mike replied. He played with one of Micky's curls.

"I have too." Micky said. "I've been thinking about everything, and I'm glad you know. I'm glad you know about all my baggage and that we don't have any secrets anymore. But what I told you... I want us to forget about it. We've dealt with it and I want to forget it. I don't want that to be what you see when you look at me. I don't want you to feel sad or guilty or angry... I just want you to love me."

Mike smiled adoringly at his partner. "Well that's lucky, because I do love ya. I love you more than anything. And when I look at you, I don't see all of that; I see you. I see my Mick. And there ain't nothin' that will ever change that. You got that?"

Micky nodded his head. "Then let's put all of this behind us." He said. "That's not who I am and it never really was who I was... if that even makes sense. What I mean is I haven't let it beat me and I don't want it to beat us. I want to forget all of that crap ever happened."

Mike nodded. "I do too." He took hold of Micky's hand. "We can move past this. You and me can get through anythin'."

Micky smiled sweetly before nodding his head. "Good."

That evening, the scene was set exactly the same as the night before, with Mike sitting on the bed waiting for Micky to finish up in the bathroom. Once again, Micky entered the room after his shower fully-dressed in his pyjamas, and Mike watched his partner as he towel-dried his wet, curly hair.

Mike knew there was one final thing he needed to ask Micky about. He'd thought about it long and hard while Micky had been in the bathroom, and he figured he needed to address it. It was something he'd been curious about since they had gotten back together, and Mike figured that seeing as Micky had emotionally exposed so much of himself to Mike over the past 24 hours now was a good time to confront him about this one last thing.

"Mick, can I ask ya somethin'?" Mike asked casually.

"Mmm?" Micky said, standing in front of the mirror and fluffing up his curls.

"How come I ain't seen ya without your clothes on since we've been back together?" Mike asked gently.

Micky paused before turning to to look at Mike. He stared at the Texan for a moment before looking down at the towel in his hands. "Haven't you?" He asked.

Mike tilted his head to the side. "You know I ain't." He replied. Micky looked up at him a little sheepishly. "You always get changed in the bathroom now, or at least when I'm around, anyway. I ain't seen ya without a shirt on or even in your underwear. You used to love walkin' around naked after you showered; you always said it was the best way to dry off. And not to mention this hot weather; the first chance you'd get you'd be takin' your top off and layin' out in the sun. It's like you're hidin' yourself away... Is it because of your scar?"

Micky was quiet for a moment as he folded up the towel he was holding. "It's not just that." He mumbled almost bitterly.

Mike continued to stare at Micky until the curly haired man eventually looked up and sighed in defeat. "I don't look so good anymore." Micky conceded, tossing the towel onto the chair. "Actually, I look terrible."

Mike scrunched his face up in sheer confusion. "What?"

Micky slumped his shoulders defeatedly. "I look like shit." He replied bluntly, a sting of bitterness in his voice. "I lost so much weight last year and no matter how much I eat I can't seem to put it back on again. I'm skinny as fuck; my ribs are poking out and I look scrawny and ugh. And now I have this big, stupid scar on my stomach as well, just to make things worse. So there you go."

Mike could hardly believe what he was hearing. He blinked hard as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Micky, you're beautiful. How could you- how could you think you aren't?"

"For the reasons I just said." Micky hit back. "And you only say I'm beautiful because you're biased, but you haven't seen me so you don't know. And even if you did think I was ugly you wouldn't say because you love me and you're too nice."

Mike pulled the covers back and climbed out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Micky asked nervously as he watched the Texan come towards him with a look of purpose on his face.

Mike stopped right in front of Micky and he continued to look his partner straight in the eye as he took hold of the bottom of Micky's pyjama top.

"Mike..." Micky said quietly.

Mike ignored Micky. Instead he slowly pulled the t-shirt up Micky's body while still looking the curly-haired man directly in the eye. When the piece of clothing reached Micky's chest, Micky reluctantly lifted his arms to allow Mike to pull the pyjama top up and over his head.

Mike tossed the t-shirt aside before taking a step back to look at Micky's body. Mike's eyes moved from Micky's face down to his chest; and yes, Micky was skinny. He had lost weight - but from the way Micky was talking, Mike had expected him to be a lot skinnier. Mike remembered seeing Micky shirtless in Tony's club six months before and how skinny he was then; Micky had put a bit of weight on since then, so that was some progress at least. As skinny as Micky was, he didn't look unhealthy like before.

As Mike's eyes moved further down, they finally laid on Micky's scar. The breath got caught in Mike's throat when he saw it - but only for a moment. The initial shock of seeing it soon passed, and as Mike looked a little closer it actually wasn't even half as bad as he had envisioned it to be.

The scar was far smaller than Mike expected. It was slim and clean and clearly healing really well. Mike was pretty certain that, in time, it would be hard to see it was there unless you were right up close to Micky's body. The only reason Mike felt a little strange looking at it was because it was a reminder of how Micky had nearly died; but the scar itself wasn't ugly or offensive to look at at all. It was only what it represented that bothered Mike, but he also knew that once he got used to seeing it it wouldn't affect him anymore.

Mike's eyes moved back up to Micky's face and he noticed his boy standing there almost nervously. Micky looked like he was silently seeking approval and reassurance from Mike, and the Texan knew he wasn't going to waste any more time before trying to remind Micky how beautiful he was.

Mike leaned forward and planted small kisses across the top of Micky's chest, just below his collar bone. Mike's lips moved down Micky's chest, giving Micky the most tiny and loving little kisses on his soft, pale skin. Mike dropped to his knees and held on to Micky's hips as his kisses reached Micky's tight, flat stomach. Mike's lips then moved across Micky's tummy before pausing when he reached his scar. Mike was just inches away from the scar, looking at it up close - it really wasn't that bad at all. The Texan then closed the gap between his lips and Micky's flesh, and he planted small, gentle kisses across the slightly sensitive skin of Micky's scar. Mike could feel Micky suck a deep breath in as his lips impacted the skin, but he knew he wasn't hurting his boy.

When Mike eventually pulled back, he looked up at Micky. Micky was staring down at him with such deep, pure love that Mike could instantly tell that his partner was touched by his display of affection.

Mike slowly rose to his feet again and looked Micky straight in the eye. "You're beautiful." He said

"Do you really think that?" Micky asked in a small voice. "You don't think I'm too skinny..?"

Mike took a step back. He grabbed hold of the back of his own t-shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion before opening his arms as if he was offering himself to Micky.

"Look at me." Mike said, looking down at himself. "I'm skinny too. I'm two inches taller than you yet I ain't got much more meat on my bones. So we're probably really about the same size."

"Yeah, but-" Micky begun, admiring Mike's body. "That's totally different. You're gorgeous. You're so handsome and manly. I'm not manly. I look like a 12 year old girl."

Mike tilted his head to the side, almost amused by Micky's observation. "I ain't seen many 12-year-olds who are over 6ft tall." He commented. "I love you, babe, but you don't half say some stupid things sometimes."

"You know what I mean..." Micky said, his face blushing sweetly.

"I know that you're gorgeous," Mike said, stepping forward again and taking hold of Micky's hips. "I know that neither of us are Mr Muscle. I know that, and I don't care. As long as you're healthy, I don't care what size you are. You're beautiful. Inside and out, you're beautiful. I ain't just sayin' that because I'm biased or because I love ya; I'm sayin' it because it's true."

Micky watched Mike carefully as he spoke, and Mike could tell that the compliments were certainly making Micky feel a bit better about himself.

"I'm still totally attracted to you." Mike continued sincerely. "I still think you look irresistible. And I never want you to be ashamed of your body; not 'cause of your weight or 'cause of your scar. And speakin' of your scar, it's... it ain't bad at all, Mick. I was kinda worried about seeing it, but it's fine. It's so clean and I bet in a few months time you'll hardly know it's there."

Micky smiled weakly. "There will always be a scar there." He said, looking down at himself.

"Well yeah. It ain't gonna disappear completely, but it ain't gonna be obvious from afar." Mike added. He took hold of Micky's chin, lifting his partner's head so he could look at him. "You're beautiful, Micky. Please don't ever feel like you have to hide yourself away from me, or from anyone."

A small smile crossed Micky's lips. "I'll try not to." He said.

Mike took hold of Micky's hand. "Come lay with me." He said gently.

Micky smiled again, and it was a more genuine and confident smile than before. The two men walked over to the bed and climbed in next to each other. Mike opened his arms and pulled Micky into a hug, wrapping his arms around his boy and loving the sensation of being skin-on-skin with Micky for the first time since they'd gotten back together.

Micky instantly relaxed in the Texan's arms, resting his head on Mike's chest and allowing Mike's hands to trail up and down his naked back.

"How does this feel?" Mike asked quietly after a couple of minute's silence.

"Nice." Micky admitted. "This feels really...nice."

Mike smiled, pulling Micky a little closer and kissing the top of his head. "You're beautiful, Mick." He whispered. "And there ain't no one who'd ever tell you any different. And if they did, tell me who they are so I can break their legs."

Micky giggled, sliding his hands over Mike's lightly-haired chest. "You're so protective over me." He stated.

"Always." Mike said seriously. "Nobody is ever gonna hurt ya. I'm never gonna hurt ya. Me and you, this is it now - no more secrets. No more hang-ups. Just you and me."

Micky snuggled closer to Mike, burying his face in the crook of the Texan's neck. "You and me." He said.