A/N: As always, please leave a comment to let me know what think!

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"How was school little brother?" Mickey's older brother Iggy asked as he walked in that afternoon.

"What do you fucking think?" he said as he dumped his bag down on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen.

Mandy had gone to Karen's to do god knows what and Mickey was still in a bad mood from his classes.

"You could still drop out," Iggy said. "No one's forcin' you to be there."

"What so I can turn out just like you? Fuck that," he said and Iggy threw something at him from the living room.

"I ain't so bad when you get to know me."

"I beg to fucking differ."

Once Mickey had done making himself something to eat with just the scraps he could find in their bare kitchen he headed to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

His mind travelled back to his gym class, not that he wanted it to. He just couldn't get Ian fucking Gallagher and his perfect smile and tight-fitted shirt out of his head. It wasn't just that it was the first time he'd spoken him since lower school, it was how audacious he was, that he thought he could come in and correct his boxing position, thinking he knew anything more about it than Mickey did.

He grunted loudly, shoving the dresser aside and biting down on his lip. He needed a cold fucking shower.

He didn't take it, instead he mulled under the stream of hot water, one hand on the wall and his head hung between his shoulder blades. It wasn't the first time that Ian had crossed his mind when he'd been alone, it probably wouldn't be the last either.

He tried not to think of him more than that and for the most part it worked. It wasn't until he was sitting in his English class that he thought of him again.

Mickey sat alone up the back of the class, the seat beside him empty. Maybe it was because no one wanted to sit beside him, maybe he just got lucky, either way he liked having that extra bit of space.

They were about ten minutes into their lesson, not that Mickey was paying the teacher any attention. He was covering the reading list for the semester and Mickey didn't even plan to read the list.

There was a quick knock on the door and then Ian was poking his head through.

"Uh hey, sorry I'm late, only just got signed up," he said with a smile, hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder.

"Well it's nice to have you with us Mr Gallagher," the teacher said, taking his forms off him. "You can take a seat."

As he looked around the room it occurred to Mickey that there was only one seat left empty in the class. He rolled his eyes as Ian walked over, looking over at him with an amused facial expression.

Mickey grunted, leaning over to take his bag out of the chair beside him.

"Yeah, yeah I got it," he mumbled.

"Thanks," he said.

"Whatever," Mickey said, going back to staring down at the blank paper in front of him.

He heard Ian scoff from beside him but he didn't look back up. His cheeks already felt hot at the sight of him. It was a little awkward to make eye contact with a guy you've pictured while jacking yourself off.

He caught glimpses of him throughout the class, through the careful use of a side glance or a stretch, and he seemed to be taking in everything that the teacher said. Mickey could care less about English; he hated the subject. Mostly because he only ever scraped a pass by the skin of his teeth, but also because he had never had an English teacher who didn't have a vendetta against him.

Mandy felt the same way, Iggy and Colin had been absolute monsters in their years at the school and none of the long-serving teachers would let them forget it.

When the bell went Gallagher was up and gone with the rest of his classmates, not even a look back. Mickey didn't know why he had expected any less.

"If they think I'm doin' half the shit on that reading list they can fucking forget it," he said, cigarette between his lips as he leaned up against the bars under the bleachers.

"You know maybe you should stop blaming your brothers for the fact that you're failing English," Karen said with a grin from her spot behind him.

"Shut up, wouldn't matter anyway," he said.

"Maybe you could blow your teacher," Mandy said, dumping her bag and going to stand by Karen with her arms folded. "That'd probably help me."

"Don't do that, your teacher is old and disgusting," Karen said and Mandy rolled her eyes.

"Obviously, that's why he feels the need to run his fingers over my desk every fucking day. It creeps me out," she said with a look of disgust. "That's why I think a blow job could work."

"Don't blow your fuckin' teacher," Mickey said with a scoff, looking out over the track and watching their run throughs. "I'm sure you can find someone better... or at least fuckin' younger."

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nose.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'm not going to blow my teacher!" she said. "You guys are disgusting."

"You're the one who said it," Karen said. "Whatever, you guys want to skip the last couple of classes? I can get us something good."

"Nah," Mickey said, tossing out the butt of his cigarette. "Free gym practice, like I'm gonna give that up to spend time with you two assholes."

"Dick," they said in unison and he just grinned back at them.

He figured he'd leave his boxing until the end of the session, getting in right on time to snag a treadmill. He hated running but he didn't mind it so much on the machine. Put him on the track and he'd moan about it to no end, but here with his headphones in his ears wasn't too bad.

He only had one speed, it wasn't really about the exercise, he didn't really know what it was about but he sure as hell wasn't one of those interval running guys. No fuckin way.

The other guys seemed to glance up at him on their way in but he ignored them, they were only there for a moment before they made their way to something else. All but one.

Gallagher leant up against the wall and regarded him, looking him up and down a little.

"Come to criticize my runnin' now Gallagher?" Mickey said through gritted teeth as the sweat dripped down his forehead.

"That what you call it?" he said and Mickey just grunted in frustration.

"Fuck off," he said.

"You're going to fail if you just do whatever the fuck you want," he said, arms folded over his chest. "Unless you're planning to be terrible for the first half of the year so it looks like you've improved by the end, in that case it isn't the worst plan."

Mickey let out a loud huff as he lifted his feet up to the sides of the treadmill, panting heavily.

"What do you care?" he said. "Don't need your fuckin' charity."

He smirked a little with disdain before pushing himself off the wall.

"This time I wasn't offering," he said with a sarcastic grin and walked over to another station.

Fucking Gallagher, Mickey thought.

He tried not to do it, to look at him, but he had never been one to utilise his self-control. When he finished his run he looked over at him doing reps on one of the machines and turned away roughly when Ian caught his eye.

His brow furrowed as he rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He didn't know why he was so aggressive, especially towards people who show him any kind of attention. He didn't even try to do it, it just happened, like a reflex.

It happened more often with Ian than with anyone else.

Every time he saw him he would scoff or scowl, he was a nightmare to sit next to in English and he was sure he was driving Ian insane every day but he couldn't help it. That's just the kind of thing he did.

Nearly three weeks into the term and he started to realise that he spent his days waiting for Ian to show up so that he could antagonise him. By this time he had started to ignore him more than anything. For the first week or so he seemed to play along, but it didn't seem to be a game to him anymore.

Mickey sat on the wall outside the school, cigarette between his fingers and his leg tapping. Karen walked over to him and stood by his side, just looking down. He stared ahead, sighing and blowing smoke from his lips.

"What's up with you?" she asked.

He looked up with just his eyes before shaking his head.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes and slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Shut up, get up, and start talking."

"How can I shut up and start talking?" he said, sliding off the wall.

"You can start by not being a smart ass," she said. "Why are you brooding on your own?"

"Because everyone else is a fuckin' moron?"

"True, now start talking asshole."

He sighed. "Since when do we do that?"

"You know what? You can just go back to sitting alone and wait for one of the teachers to come and give you detention for smoking on school grounds."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," he said. "Sorry, can't fucking help it."

"Being a dick?" she asked with a quiet smirk.

He was about to argue with her but she had a point.

"Yeah," he said with another sigh. "Anyone who fuckin' talks to me... I bite their fuckin' head off."

She shrugged. "It's a defence mechanism."

"You gonna be my shrink now?"

"Shut up," she said, kicking him in the ankle and making him trip up. "I'm just saying, you being a dick is just how you stop yourself forming attachments with people. You don't give a shit about anyone and they don't give a shit about you, no one gets hurt. I do the same fucking thing."

"So how do you fuckin' stop?" he asked.

"You don't, you can't help doing it so how do you expect to stop?" she said. "Why do you want to stop? It makes life easier if you're heartless."

"No reason really," he said, looking up and squinting through the light over to where Ian was walking out of the hall and into the front quad.

Karen followed his gaze and looked down at her feet. "This is about him?"

"He's a fuckin' preppy... show-off douche-bag," he said. "Yeah it's about him."

"Didn't know you talked to him that much," she said.

"I don't," he said. "Sit next to him in English."

"And what? You didn't lend him a pen when he asked?"

"Would you shut up?"

"I'm just saying, we act like dicks because what's the alternative? Caring so much that it fucking kills us when we get hurt? No way, why do you think neither of us gives a shit about our dads?"

"Because they're assholes that should just drop dead for everyone else's benefit?" he said and she stopped, nodding to herself.

"Yeah, that too."

Mickey sighed. "Give me a couple minutes yeah?"

She turned to look at him and nodded again as he bit down on his lip and walked in the direction of Ian.

He was looking down at his phone, body turned away from Mickey.

He didn't quite know what he was going to say, he hadn't thought it through. He didn't even know why he cared so much. That last part was a lie, he knew why he cared and he'd tried hard not to, but there was just something about Ian.

"Yo Gallagher!" he called and Ian turned around, an exasperated look on his face when he saw him. "Got a minute?"

He spoke with his usual roughness, even trying to keep it out of his voice it still managed to creep its way in.

"What's your problem?" he asked, throwing his hand up.

"Just wanted to talk a minute," he said, stopping in front of him.

"No, I mean really," he said. "You act like a dick for no fucking reason, you're snappy, and grumpy and for some reason my trying to help you just makes you angrier. Maybe it's because I'm that 'preppy asshole' you've labelled me and can't get past that, so I'll ask again, what the hell is your problem?"

Mickey was a little taken aback, partly because of his harsh tone and party because of how striking he was when his jaw was set in a hard pissed-off line.

He was about to retaliate, make him feel bad for snapping by telling him he was about to apologise, but he didn't get the chance.

"Dude, you have to ask?"

A voice came from behind Mickey and three guys who played on the basketball team with Ian came strutting over to stand by him.

"He's a fucking Milkovich, that's what his problem is," one of them said. "That's bad enough right?"

The three of them laughed but Ian just dropped his gaze, looking slightly embarrassed for losing his temper.

"Aren't you failing like all your classes?" one of them said with a grin and Mickey grit his teeth.

"Only because he's always on the grass, that's your thing, right?" one said with an arrogant smirk. "Out with the other two dead ends."

"Watch it," Mickey said quietly and they laughed again.

"Guys, just leave it," Ian said.

"Oh come on, even he knows the best place he's going to wind up is minimum security," one said. "And his sister and that blonde skank, they'll be―"

"I said fuckin' watch it," Mickey said, squaring off to the one mouthy douchebag.

"Boys! Break it up!" One of the teachers yelled from the doorway of the building.

"Guys, come on," Ian said quietly.

"Better leave now, pretty sure Milkovich's have a problem hearing the word 'don't'," one sneered.

Another slapped him on the arm, grinning to himself.

"Yeah, maybe that's why they also have a problem with inbreeding."

Ian's eyes looked over towards Mickey who was seething.

"Guys, just go I'll meet you on the court," Ian said and they walked away, laughing and giving him pats on the back as they left.

"Look, I didn't mean for them to―" he tried, but Mickey was done listening.

"You come anywhere near me and I'll break your fuckin' nose," he said in a growl before storming away.

Well, so much for reconciliation.