Mikey's body makes his decision for him, hips practically leaping forward against Gerard's hand. It falters more than a little at the motion, and Mikey snakes his own hand down to clasp over the back of it and press it firmly against the laces, the span of his own fingers greater than Gerard's, so his fingertips brush the fabric even as his palm presses hard against the not-warm-enough back of Gerard's hand. He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the intensity of it all, then brings his focus back to Gerard. "Do it."