He just stares at that hand for a few moments. It takes him a moment to register that yes, the mouse actually wants to shake his, as in actually touch gross trash like him, and --

Did he... just call Ichimatsu a friend? Seriously? He finds himself balking. It's not like he hates the thought, but... he didn't expect that. What the heck has Ichimatsu ever done for him? Nothing useful, that's for sure. Looking shyly away with a soft grunt, Ichimatsu reaches out his hand and clumsily grasps Mickey's gloved hand in his own.

A lot of things come to mind during Mickey's reasoning, none of them very nice, but he refrains from saying them out loud. Instead, his eyes flick nervously to the top of the little mouse's head. Since they're on the subject, well...

"... t-then... can I... try on your hat?"