Mickey couldn't sleep that night, at least not for a few hours anyway. His jacket smelled like him, like his sweat and his cologne, like he may as well still be leaning his weight down into him.

Usually he took it off, hung it up by the door or threw it over one of the chairs but he just lay in bed trying to resist the urge to pull it in close to his face and just breathe in what Ian had left behind.

What had compelled him to do it? Why had he decided that helping out Ian fucking Gallagher of all people was a good idea?

You couldn't have just left him to those two assholes, he thought to himself.

Maybe he could have, maybe if it had been anyone other than him he would have just walked on by without a second glance. But it wasn't, it was Ian.

His thoughts about him were getting out of hand. They needed to stop before things got any worse. He should have just left before Ian had asked that question, the one that still hung in the air.

Why did you save me from them?

Ian's voice was ringing in his ears and he wished he had an answer that wasn't simply 'because I was angry that they had the nerve to hurt you like that' or 'I couldn't just walk away'. Only he could have walked away, and he would have... if it had been almost anyone else.

And what he said about their final words, they didn't have the effect that Ian had been expecting. He'd been expecting Mickey to throw a slur his way, maybe tell him that he regretted stepping in to save him.

Instead he'd been defensive, agitated, he avoided the topic like he had something he really didn't want to say.

Mickey gave in; taking a handful of the jacket that was wrapped tightly around him and dragged it to his face, inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes and his lips parted a little as his senses tingled.

He slid his hand down slowly, under the band of his jeans and through the course hair until his fingers were brushing the soft unblemished skin inside that was quickly growing harder to the touch.

He sighed heavily and kept going, knowing he shouldn't be letting it get to this point but not being able to stop himself. Ian Gallagher had already managed to bury himself under his skin.

Mandy didn't bother questioning him further about his battered hands in the morning, it's not like it's all that unusual for Mickey or one of her other brothers to get into a fist fight.

Both of them felt uneasy over the weekend, trying to be out as much as possible because their father was going through one of his lazy patches. His wallet must have been fat with the spoils of a good run because he wasn't in any hurry to find a new job to do, instead he was lounging about the house and barking orders at the two of them.

Mandy managed to weasel out on Sunday afternoon but Mickey couldn't think of anywhere he wanted to be, and he had an English assignment to work on anyway. If his father caught him working on it he'd never hear the end of it.

It wasn't like it was something he particularly wanted to do, but if he didn't pass the class this year he wouldn't be graduating, and already he could hardly bear it.

He had taken a break from it, standing in the kitchen trying to find something to eat when there was a knock on the door.

"Mandy! Door!" Terry yelled.

"She's not here," Mickey said with his mouth full of cereal.

"So go get the door you lazy shit and tell them to fuck off!" he yelled from the couch and Mickey just shook his head and did as he said.

Only when he opened the door all the words seemed to get knocked clean out of him.

Ian stood on the steps, bruises under his eye and small cuts to his lip and brow but otherwise as stunning as he ever had been.

"I thought this was the right place, for a second I thought I might have been wrong," he said with a small smile.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Mickey said through gritted teeth.

"I wanted to talk to you, thank you for what you did," he said, taking a small step forward.

"Yeah alright, you did that now you have to go," he said.

"Can I come in for a minute? I just want to―"

"Who's at the fucking door?" Terry yelled from inside and Mickey looked back at him for a moment.

"No one, it's fine," he yelled before turning back to Ian. "You gotta go."

"Mickey I just want―"

"Look, just forget about the whole fucking thing. I said you gotta go so... go!" he said, putting his hand out to stop Ian moving forward and unintentionally pressing it to his chest.

Ian looked down at it and Mickey could feel his own breathing get a little faster. He hoped Ian hadn't noticed it as he looked back up at him.

"You saved my ass the other night," he said, not trying to move Mickey's hand. "I just wanted you to know that I'm glad you were there."

Mickey yanked his hand back and avoided Ian's eyes.

"I don't have time, seriously, just go," he said, trying to back into the house.

"Mickey―"

"And stop saying my fucking name like that!" he hissed.

"Saying it like what?"

"You know what," he said, locking eyes with him for a moment before he felt the heat flush to his cheeks and he was slamming the door in his face before he could notice it.

He didn't know whether his heart was pounding from the thrill of seeing Gallagher or from the panic that his father might have heard them at the door and notice his pinking cheeks. Either way he left the room pretty quickly, everything running a million miles an hour in his head.

He walked to school the next day with Mandy and Karen as per usual, the two of them talking about another of Karen's ridiculous weekend exploits. Usually he would be right in there with them, throwing in snide comments or teasing one or both of them but today he was silent.

"What's the matter with him?" Karen said loudly once they were only a few blocks from school.

"I don't know, the usual?" Mandy said and they both turned to look back at him.

He held up his middle finger and Mandy scoffed while Karen managed a grin.

"You know I take it back, he's fine," she said.

"No you're right, he's been weird all weekend. Probably just dad getting on his nerves."

"Still just taking up space huh?" Karen said and Mandy sighed.

"Sometimes it's like he's taking up all the space," she said.

"I get what you mean, my dad's been gone for how long now and I'm still finding those creepy fucking clowns in weird places."

"I thought you burned all of those," Mandy said.

"Me too, maybe someone is just hiding random clowns around my house to drive me slowly crazy," she said.

"That's a lot of effort to go to just to screw with you."

"True, maybe my dad was just a bigger freak than I thought," she said with a shrug.

"Be thankful that's all he was," Mandy said.

As they made it through the school gates Mickey was still quiet, looking around warily to see if Gallagher was nearby. He didn't spot him until they were inside the halls, the bruises on his face slowly fading but very obvious under the light by the lockers.

He stopped a moment to look at him, their lockers only just down the hall from one another. Mandy noticed him give him a look and was about to make a snide joke until she saw the state of Ian's face.

"Holy crap, what the hell happened to him?" she said and Karen looked up at him with her.

"Damn, didn't think Gallagher got into any trouble," she said.

Ian looked up and around for a moment before his eyes found Mickey. The two locked their gazes for a moment, something that didn't go unnoticed by Mandy or Karen.

"Don't tell me you had something to do with that?" Karen said, knowing how pissed off Mickey was after their run in the week before.

"Oh my god, he came home on Saturday night with his fists all bloodied up... did you do that to his face?" she said.

"I never touched his face," Mickey said.

Not that he hadn't thought about it, but in a much different context.

He broke eye contact and stormed off and the two girls watched as Ian's eyes trailed after him.

"He totally did that to his face," Mandy said.

"It wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's ever happened," Karen conceded.

Mickey was standing under the bleachers later in the afternoon, staring out at the field without really taking any of it in. Fucking Gallagher showing up at his place, who does he think he is?

Maybe he shouldn't have bothered pulling those unevolved assholes off him, let him take the beat-down. He didn't seem like he'd done much to deserve it but still, why the fuck did that make it his job to get in there and defend him?

As much as he tried to convince himself it was an idiot fucking move, he knew that he actually enjoyed the rush. He liked getting in there and threatening those guys, he liked being able to protect someone else for once in his life. The fact that it was Gallagher didn't mean anything.

That was another thing he was trying to convince himself of, and having no such fucking luck.

"Hey!" he heard from the other side of the bleachers. "Mickey?"

Fucking Gallagher.

"The fuck you want?" he said as he turned around, leaning his back against the metal framework.

"Your sister said I might find you here," he said as he walked in, ducking under the low-hanging beams.

"So? Thought I told you to forget the whole thing happened," he said, folding his arms.

"You saved my ass, I just want to thank you for it," he said, stopping with his hands in his front pockets.

"You said thanks already," Mickey said. "Besides, I'll see you last class of the day anyway, English, remember?"

Ian shrugged. "You're not the most reliable guy when it comes to attending classes."

"How many English classes have I missed so fucking far?" Mickey asked.

"Hey, Mandy said it, not me."

Mickey narrowed his eyes. "Don't talk to my sister about me. She'll make me fucking look bad."

"Is that what you're worried about? That I'll think you look bad?" he asked, his confidence seeming to build.

"What do you want? What's so fucking important that you couldn't wait until next time we run into each other to tell me?" Mickey asked impatiently, heart pounding.

"I told you, I want to thank you," he said.

"You already said―"

"I said I wanted to thank you, I didn't say that I haven't already said it," he said, taking a few steps closer.

Mickey just looked him up and down warily. "What..." he said quietly.

"You put your ass on the line to stop those guys from beating me any worse," he said, still getting ever closer. "So let me thank you..."

Mickey was frozen to the spot as Ian stepped into the space directly in front of him. He was a head taller and so he was forced to crane his neck upwards to look at him, he could already feel the heat from his body radiating outwards.

Ian smirked a little before he was dropping to his knees, his hands reaching for the buckle on Mickey's jeans. His heart was racing and he desperately wanted to shove Ian away for having the audacity to assume that he wanted it, but there was no denying that he did.

He looked up and away from him but he didn't push him off, he just started breathing heavier and had no idea what to do with his hands as Ian was shimmying his jeans down and slipping a finger under the waistband of his boxers.

It should have been shameful at how hard Mickey already was when Ian pulled at his underwear, exposing his cock and letting it stand to attention before his lips.

He finally made the decision to grip the frame behind him as Ian's tongue was sliding down the underside of his dick and making Mickey let out a loud groan. He steadied Mickey's cock with the space between his thumb and fore finger as he pulled back to suck the tip into his mouth, making Mickey lose further control of the sounds he was making.

"Fuck..." he panted as Ian slid his lips down further, quickening his pace.

He wrapped his fingers around the base, squeezing him gently and swirling his tongue around Mickey's sensitive slit.

Mickey's head was spinning and he was already close to it all being over but the heat of Ian's mouth and his wet tongue tormenting him in such an exquisite way had him focussing all his energy on making it last even longer.

Ian's other hand slipped under his shirt and pressed against Mickey's stomach, pushing him back against the frame and dragging his nails across his skin.

He looked down at him, his stomach tightening at the sight of him knelt in front of him, lapping at his cock like he couldn't get enough of him.

"Gallagher... shit...uhn... Gallagher..." he groaned as Ian's lips tightened around the head of his dick and sucked quickly which made Mickey lose his focus. "Holy fuck!"

Ian took Mickey into his mouth until his nose was pressed up into his dark pubic hair and Mickey was all but over the edge.

"Stop, stop... Gallagher I'm gonna... shit ― fuck!" he exclaimed as the pleasure tore through his body and still Ian wasn't pulling his lips away.

He closed his eyes as Mickey was throwing his head painfully into the bars behind him and letting himself go in hot white spurts down Ian's throat. Ian's arm slid down to wrap around the back of Mickey's legs to help hold him up as his orgasm turned every inch of him to jelly.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were screwed tight shut as he relaxed and felt Ian tucking him back into his boxers and re-zipping his jeans. As he felt him start getting to his feet he opened his eyes and looked down at him, meeting his sultry gaze.

In a moment he was standing over him again, the smirk still on his red lips.

"So... thanks," he said, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "See you 'round."

Mickey's mouth hung open and he was still breathing heavily as Ian's smirk got wider and he gave him an up-down look as he walked away. He went back the way he came, ducking under the bars and giving him one last grin before heading back out and onto campus.

Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was just the serotonin in his blood, but he couldn't form a logical thought in his mind. Just when he thought the guy couldn't find any more ways to look fucking perfect, turns out Ian Gallagher on his knees was a fucking vision.

He jumped at the sound of the bell ringing and straightened out his shirt a little before he was looking around to make sure no one could possibly have seen, and made his way out.

He didn't say much for the rest of the day, his mind still fixated on the events of that morning. Mandy questioned him about it but he just showed her his middle finger and went back to smoking his blunt. She didn't really question it but he had a feeling it probably wasn't the last he'd hear of it.

He even considered not showing up to English last period because that would mean facing up to Gallagher, but he couldn't just skip class. Somehow that would be worse the next time they ran into one another.

He was, however, late. Not that it was all that unusual for him to be late.

"Mr Milkovich, how nice of you to grace us with your presence," Mr Loch greeted him with his usual indifference. "Get to your seat."

He looked up to the back of the class to see Ian staring at him with a smile on his mouth. Mickey could still see the image in his mind of those lips stretched around his hard length and he quickly tried to snap out of it as he walked to the back to take his seat beside him.

As he sat down Ian leant in closer to him.

"Wasn't sure if you were going to come," he whispered, drawing out that last word and Mickey just gave him a glare.

"Shut the fuck up," he said.

Ian grinned and shrugged before looking back to the front where Mr Loch was talking about the most recent book from the reading list.

He was trying so hard not to look over at him, tapping his leg quickly and actually listening for once but none of the teacher's words were sinking in. When Mr Loch turned to write some essay questions on the board Ian reached over and dropped a folded piece of paper onto his desk before going back to writing in his note book.

Mickey looked up at him and then down at the paper, tempted to toss it back to him without even reading it, but curiosity had never been his friend.

He unfolded the paper and felt the electricity pulse through him as he read the words in Ian's handwriting.

I can still taste you...

Mickey could feel his cheeks flush hot and he quickly crumpled up the paper and shoved it into his pocket.

He looked over at Ian whose tongue was gliding slowly over his bottom lip as he looked back and Mickey let out a frustrated sound as he leant in closer.

"No one said you had to swallow it asshole," he said in barely a breath, but Ian's lips were already drawn into a smile.

"Did I say I didn't like it?" he asked and Mickey just shook his head, facing the front again and slouching even further into his chair.

He dropped another piece of paper onto Mickey's desk and he shot him another glare before opening it slowly.

Didn't cross a line did I? I was half expecting you to break my fucking nose... as you put it

Mickey looked over at him and this time most of the arrogance seemed to be gone from Ian's face and in its place was genuine wondering.

Mickey scribbled something back on the paper and threw it at him, making his lips twitch in a smile and check that Mr Loch hadn't seen it.

He unfurled the paper and looked back over at Mickey, whose cheeks were about as pink as they'd ever been.

You think I would have let you do that if it was crossing a line?

"So, it was okay then?" he asked, leaning in closer again with that arrogant spark back on his features.

"I don't know, you're the one who can still fucking taste it so you tell me," Mickey hissed and Ian just grinned.

He started writing on the paper again and Mickey rolled his eyes, waiting until it made its way back onto his desk.

I wouldn't mind tasting it again...

Mickey looked over at him, teeth sinking into his lip as Gallagher just stared back with his soft pink lips parted just so and his gaze like fire on his skin. Mickey nodded slightly and Ian smiled.

"Same place after school?" he said.

"Whatever," Mickey said, turning back to the front.

As nonchalant as he was trying to be there was absolutely no doubt that he would be under the bleachers the moment the bell rang.