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Mickey was lazily watching the TV, sleepy from a long afternoon tending to the whores at the Alibi. They’re still complaining about the damn heat.
Whatever, Mickey was home now and Ian would be soon too. It should probably be mentioned that “home” was the Gallagher’s place.
He heard the door in the kitchen open and then slam shut again.
"Yo Ian, that you?" He yelled, not looking up from the TV.
He got no reply, just the sound of feet rushing up the stairs. Well it wasn’t going to be Fiona, she was at work for a few hours more, and the other ones were at school. Lip had college so unless Frank was up and about - which was unlikely - it had to be Ian.
Mickey looked up with a confused expression on his face. He peeled himself off the couch and headed up the other set of stairs. He heard the water running in the bathroom and headed towards the door.
"Ian? The fuck you doing in there?" He asked, reaching out for the knob.
"Nothing, I’m fine Mick would you just leave me?" Came the muffled reply.
Mickey started to turn the handle but Ian launched himself at the door, forcing it shut.
"I said i’m fine Mick!"
"Would you shut up and open the fucking door? You cant live in there!" Mickey shouted.
"Yeah? Watch me."
"Smart guy huh?" Mickey muttered, turning the handle again and putting all his weight on the door.
He came crashing through and Ian jolted back to the sink and turned away from him.
"Jesus Mickey!" He said.
"What you fuckin’ hiding over there?" Mickey said, trying to pull his arm around and Ian gave in with a jut of his lip and a shake of his head.
His left eye was swollen and red, slowly turning a deep purple colour and Mickey felt his blood boil.
"Who fuckin’ did it?" He said, biting his lip and his eyebrows shot right up.
"Forget it, it doesn’t matter." Ian shook his head.
"You bet your ass it matters, who the fuck did that to your face?" He said, his hand still clamped tightly around Ian’s arm and his nostrils flaring madly.
"Just some assholes on the street, it doesn’t matter anyway i’ve had plenty of bruises before, why you getting so worked up?" He said, raising his good eyebrow.
"No way someone’s beating on you and getting away with it." Mickey said.
Ian smiled, “That’s almost sweet.”
"Fuck you with your ‘that’s sweet’ shit." Mickey said, narrowing his eyes. "Get your bat, we’re going on a fuckin’ field trip."
Mickey let him go and headed out into the hall but Ian just smiled. When Mickey got protective it always ended up in his favour.