AN: Hey guys, so this is my first shameless fanfic and I hope you like it. I started watching shameless the other day and I have become quickly obsessed with Mickey and Ian and this wouldn't leave me alone. It takes place in season 3 and is from Mickey's POV. I'm sorry if it's OOC- please let me know what you think. Rated T but it might change if anyone thinks it should be higher.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Mickey isn't the kissing type of guy.

Sure, he'd kissed girls before, fucked them into a mattress until the bed bounces off the wall and they're screaming so loud and so annoying that he puts his mouth on them for some fucking peace. Those kisses don't mean a damn thing.

They're easy, a means to an end. A way to uphold the reputation Terry wants him to have.

The girls all spread the word over town, how good mickey is in bed, how he fucks them just right. It's fine, it's great.

They don't need to know green eyes and red hair dance behind his eyelids when he gets off. They don't need to know he sees that fucking smile on Gallagher's face or that he wants to chant Ian's name like a goddamn prayer.

Mickey isn't a kissing kind of person. But fuck he wants to kiss Ian.

It wasn't a conscious thought at first. They'd been fucking in the dugouts, Ian's fingers gripping Mickeys hips so hard he would have bruises.

Ian's lips brushed his neck, sucking marks into pale skin as Mickey groaned, pushing his ass back onto Ian's dick like his life depended on it. Then Ian looked up, green eyes locking with blue and too pink lips still attached to Mickeys skin and fuck, he'd known he was screwed.

There was a softness in Gallagher's eyes that Mickey had only caught glimpses of here and there, one that didn't belong in the dugouts with Ian pounding into him, and jesus fuck he couldn't breathe.

His heart stutters in his chest and his mind roars, warmth tingling through him like a fucking tidal wave because nobody has ever looked at him like that.

Like he was their whole world. Fuck, he's drowning in it, falling into green eyes and red hair and too wide smiles.

It would be so easy- to close the distance between them and take Ian's lips in his.

To dive into that warmth head first and deal with the consequences later. Forget about the outside world for one moment and just let glowing eyes be his salvation in the dark. Kiss Ian like he'd so wanted to since the first time they fucked, not that Mickey would ever tell the ginger how much he wished he had just let Ian slot his lips on his to see if they fit together the way he believes they could.

But he can't and fuck when did Gallagher turn him into a fucking girl who spouts romantic shit like the world around them isn't burning to the ground.

"The fuck you looking at" he says instead and watches Ian's eyes dim, feels the slight pop as those red lips disappear from his sight and Gallagher goes back to fucking him from behind.

Mickeys eyes don't leave the chain link fence for the rest of time they're tangled together and Ian's lips don't meet his skin again.

He kind of hates himself for the disappointment swirling in his gut.

And he hates himself even more for fucking Angie Zhago the next day. Bitterness creeping through him as he fucks her with Ian's face in mind.

He almost laughs when they finish.

As if he'd ever thought he and Ian could ever have anything more than just sex, more than a few stolen moments in their various hiding spots through the city.

Like Mickey could kiss him and their problems would cease to exist.

Life didn't work that way- at least their lives didn't.

Instead Mickey had to pretend he was hard over a fucking peado teacher instead of the way Gallagher had looked with a cigarette in his mouth.

Lie and say he was turned on by blonde hair and big tits instead of the muscles rippling on Ian's shoulders and how fucking hot firecrotch had looked as they'd marched to that woman's house. Watch the hurt play on his gingers face rather than the pleasure Mickey so wants to give him.

He doesn't say a word as he leaves Angie pouting on the bed with a half smoked joint and empty bottle of beer.

Things change between them after that, something unspoken that sits heavy in the air whenever they have a moment together.

Gallagher looks at him with challenging green eyes and a barely there smirk whenever the geriatric viagroid doctor is brought up. Like he wants Mickey to do something, anything, to prove that he cares.

Wants Mickey to finally put a name to what they are.

He can't. Can't risk it despite the jealousy that burns through his body and leaves a bad taste in his mouth when Ian is with the older guy.

In the end he does do something, even if it's only to beat the crap out of the fucking doctor. Tries to prove something to the red head with punches and kicks and words that burn on his tongue but won't come out.

He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. Mickey thinks, the words on loop with every hit he lands.

Mickey wonders later if Ian gets it. Understands all the words he can't say as they fuck face to face against a wall with his head buried in Ian's neck.

I'm sorry he wants to say, inhaling Ian's scent with a breathless kind of wonder I'm sorry this is all I can give you.

The red head smiles into Mickeys hair, tightening his grip on the brunette's arse and Mickey wonders if Gallagher had heard the words anyway, just gets everything he can't vocalise in that singular breath of space.

It's ok his fingers say, hiking him up the wall so his back scrapes and he's burning from the grip Ian has I understand.

And fuck Mickey really wishes he did.

It's not ok. Nothing is ok.

"At least he's not afraid to kiss me."

The words have been playing on repeat in his head since Gallagher said them.

They shouldn't cut so deep, harsher words had been exchanged between them before, but jesus fucking christ they're true.

Mickey is afraid to kiss Ian.

He's afraid that if he gives in just once then he will know what he's been missing. That Ian will own every single part of his heart and there is nothing Mickey could ever do about it. He ignores the voice in his head saying Ian already holds his heart in pale fingers, that Mickey had already freely given it up.

If he kisses Ian then he would never want to let the red head go. Living without Gallagher will never be an option again as long as he knows what it's like to taste Ian on his lips.

It's fucking ridiculous is what it is. A part of him knows all those excuses are bullshit, that not having Ian in any way is completely impossible now, he's too far gone, too far down the rabbit hole despite not having kissed him.

But the larger part screams Ian will leave one day, that protecting the last bit of his heart is all mickey can do to stay upright. Everyone leaves eventually, at some point Ian won't want him anymore, will find someone better who isn't afraid and who will declare to the world Ian Gallagher belongs to them.

He will leave Mickey just like everyone else.

The van pulls to a stop outside the old dude's house and Mickey meets Ian's eyes in the mirror. He quirks a brow, green orbs practically glowing and that's it.

He can't take it anymore, he can't take the temptation of those lips. Mickey wants that warmth he only gets from the younger boy, wants to feel what it's like to fall and have someone catch you.

Ian would catch him, he knows that from the look in the red heads eyes. Every argument against kissing him falls away and leaves a burning sort of desire deep in Mickeys gut.

Its not sexual, has nothing to do with wanting Ian to fuck him until he screams and everything to do with wanting every part of his Ian Gallagher.

Ian Gallagher who burns brighter than the sun and is worth more to Mickey than anything in the world.

Who deserves to be loved by someone who isn't afraid to fucking kiss him.

"Forgot something, be back in a second" he mumbles to Iggy and his cousin when they step into the house, already turning around to run back to the van without waiting for a response.

He frankly doesn't give a shit what they say, not when every second he wastes standing there is another chance to lose his nerve.

The door is wide open and Ian is just about to light a cigarette when Mickey jumps in the van. Gallagher's face is the fucking picture of confusion and he wonders not for the first time how the red head doesn't know how hot he looks all the fucking time.

Then again, maybe the asshole does know what the sight of him makes Mickeys heart do and he's using his talents to make mickey cave.

Whatever the fuck game Ian's been playing has worked though and Mickey presses his lips to his.

The kiss is short, closed mouth and nothing like Mickey thought really kissing someone would feel. It's not just a press of lips like all the other times.

His heart threatens to beat out of his chest, stomach flipping upside-down. He's high as a kite on Ian Gallagher and belatedly wonders if this is what addiction feels like. If it is he's absolutely fine with Ian being his drug of choice.

Mickey keeps his hands on the seat, not daring to touch Ian in fear of never being able to let go and Ian barely has time to react before he pulls away and runs back into the house.

The red head has a dopey grin on his face even when Mickey flips him off and he feels warm, as if he can't get enough air into his lungs every time he brings stolen shit back to the van and Ian looks at him with the same grin.

He ignores the way his fingers itch to pull Ian to him and his body buzzes with something akin to adrenaline.

Even later, when the viagroid doctor is ripping a bullet out of his arse and Gallagher hovers close enough to touch. Even when pain ripples through him and he wants to scream, Mickey can't take his mind off that kiss.

He can't stop the way his eyes are drawn to those entirely too kissable lips.

Mickey Milkovich isn't the kissing type. But, jesus fucking christ does he want to kiss Ian Gallagher for the rest of his life.

AN: I hope you liked it. Please read and review and let me know what you think.