Ian still can't believe that Kash managed to have his own gun stolen by Mickey Milkovich. He doesn't know what's more astounding, Mickey's arrogance or Kash's cowardice. He'd stormed into the Milkovich's residence looking for the gun, but had come out empty handed. He's told Mandy to give Mickey a warning, but he doubts she's said anything, probably didn't even remember it. He goes back, intent on recovering the stolen item. He stops for a second on the doorway, reaching back to grab a metal bar he'd seen – he's going to need all the help he can get. He passes by the patriarch, Terry, who's sound asleep and snoring on the couch, and goes into the bedroom that he knows now to be Mickey's, the sign on the door not scaring him in the slightest. Mickey is sleeping as well, probably hung over, which means Ian actually stands a chance this time. He pokes the brunette with the tool, calling his name, and the boy groans sleepily.
"What the fuck?"
"I want the gun back, Mickey!" The tries to sound angry, commanding, putting on a brave face in hopes that Mickey will give him back the weapon without arguing.
"Gallagher?" Mickey is still confused, not yet fully alert.
"The gun!" He repeats, putting more emphasis into it. For a second, it seems to be working, as Mickey agrees and reaches for the drawer on the bed side table.
He turns quickly, though, grabbing Ian and throwing him forcefully against the wall. The strength of the impact makes Ian dizzy and he tries to fight off the Milkovich, who knocks the metal bar out of his hand and grabs his body, pushing him to stand. It's then that Ian regains balance, pushing Mickey into the opposite wall and punching him before he has a chance to react. Mickey kicks him in the stomach and he falls on the bed, groaning. The older boy punches him and moves to sit on his hands, but Ian manages to grab the forgotten metal bar and smash it against Mickey's head. Mickeys cries out and raises his hand to the bleeding on his head.
"Motherfucker!"
Ian is on his feet quickly, hand raised high in a threat.
"Where's gun?"
Mickey launches himself against Ian again, but the redhead lowers the metal bar against his side and pushes him again onto the opposite wall.
"Where's the fucking gun?"
Mickey is looking at him with wide eyes, the blood flowing quickly from his head. He's panting and staring straight into Ian's eyes, and it makes him nervous that he can't understand what that look means. After a few seconds, he sits up, and Ian backs away carefully, still ready to attack. Mickey doesn't say anything, just opens the drawer and throws the gun onto the bed, eyes on the ground. There's blood on his shirt now, although Mickey seems oblivious to it. Ian hastily gets the gun, checking it to see if it's the same. He scowls and looks back at Mickey, raising an eyebrow.
"Thank you", he says, ironically, and he knows he's playing with fire, but it feels good to at least once have beaten a Milkovich.
Ian had imagined that Mickey would go after him, looking for some sort of revenge, bringing his brothers along like he'd done when he thought Ian had messed with Mandy. He'd been extra cautious, paying a lot more attention than he normally did to his surroundings, expecting a surprise attack anywhere. It hadn't happened, though. Mickey wasn't even paying his daily visits to the Kash and Grab anymore, and things seemed calm. That was why, when Mandy first invited Ian to her house, he hadn't thought twice in accepting. They studied together and played videogames, and at one point Mickey had even joined them, seeming to have no hard feelings against Ian. It was as if he'd had, through his actions and his fists, gained the younger Milkovich brother's respect.
He went back to Mandy's house again, then again and again, until they'd nearly established a routine where Ian would be there every Saturday. When another chilly Saturday rolls by, Ian knocks on the Milkovich house with some weed on his pocket and a smile on his face. A smile the quickly fades when Mickey opens the door.
"She's not here." The door is slammed in his face.
Ian frowns and knocks again.
Mickey opens, sighing.
"What do you want, Gallagher?"
"Where is she?"
"No fucking clue, now leave." He moves to slam the door again, but Ian holds it with his open palm.
"Can I wait inside?"
Mickey rolls his eyes, but lets go of the door and moves into the house, silently consenting. He sits on the couch, unpausing the movie he was watching, and Ian sits on the other end of the couch, careful not to upset the other boy. He tries to relax and watch the movie with him, taking off his jacket and leaving it next to him, since the house is like a furnace inside.
"Seagal. Cool. He's badass. Well, not more than Van Damme, but…"
"You're fucking insane. Seagal could kick Van Damme's ass any time."
"Well, maybe. Unless… unless it's Double Impact Van Damme. 'Cause that some Van double Damme!"
Mickey scoffs, sipping his beer and shaking his head slightly, before passing it to Ian, who almost takes it as a sign of acceptance. He'd never seen Mickey willingly share something before. He takes a long gulp before handing it back, smiling softly at the other boy. He's wearing a tank top, blissfully ignoring the cold outside, and it shows his toned arms and shoulders. Mickey turns to him and Ian quickly looks back at the TV, blushing because he knows he has been caught staring. To try to hide it, he fumbles around the pocket of his jacket until he finds the weed he brought. He rolls some and lights it, bringing it to his lips and sucking on it, humming in appreciation of the almost immediate feeling of relaxation it brings him. He offers it to Mickey with a head nod.
"I was planning on sharing it with Mandy, but since she dumped me for God knows why, she can't complain if I smoke it with you."
Mickey shrugs and takes it, and Ian can't help but notice how his long fingers brush slightly with his own and the spark of electricity that runs through him when that happens. He watches as Mickey's lips press around the joint and his chest puffs when he inhales and feels a wave of arousal come over him so fast it almost makes him dizzy. He wonders if it is possible that he's already high. They keep passing the joint back and forth, and Ian lights another one. He's barely paying attention to the movie anymore, just blatantly staring at Mickey, his jacket on his lap to hide the erection he's been sporting for a few minutes now. The older boy doesn't seem to mind, doesn't even seem to have noticed actually, eyes fixed on the screen ahead.
"In what world would you think Van Damme could take on Seagal?" He says suddenly, startling Ian, who screams and jumps out of his seat, actually falling down. He lands on the floor with a loud thud, arms flailing around him and jacket sliding over his face and chest. He hears Mickey loud laughter fill the room.
"Fuck off, Mickey!" He mumbles from under the jacket.
He tries to shake himself free of the offending piece of clothing, but he can't seem to find the end of it. Mickey laughs even harder and Ian feels his face hot with the embarrassment.
"Suck my dick, Milkovich!" He exclaims, finding the strength to sit up, sliding the jacket to the floor next to him. He's surprised to see Mickey kneeling on the floor, his face only inches away, smiling slyly.
"Only if you ask nicely." His voice is low and sexy and it sends a shiver up Ian's spine.
"Wha-what?" He stammers nervously. Mickey presses closer, forcing Ian to fall on his elbows.
"You thought I wouldn't notice?" He presses the heel of his hand down on Ian's dick through his jeans and the younger boy groans, head falling back and eyelids halfway closed with desire.
"Thought I wouldn't see the way you were watching me, staring at my arms, my chest, even my cock, the jacket hiding your hard-on? You're pretty obvious, Gallagher." He runs his hand up, grazing Ian's erection, fingers playing with the button of his jeans.
"Ask. Nicely." Mickey's voice is low and nearly threatening, but his breath is hot against Ian's stomach and the last thing Ian feels right now is scared. Mickey opens his jeans and pulls it down, and Ian wiggles his hips to help him, lying down on his back and spreading his legs as far as he can in those conditions. Mickey mouths the head of his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers and he moans, biting his lips. Mickey's fingers bring the waistband of his boxers down torturously slowly, then pause completely. Ian looks at Mickey and the older boy raises his eyebrows playfully. Ian sits up again, bringing his face closer to Mickey's.
"Suck." He pulls Mickey's t-shirt up and off his body, sending it flying somewhere across the room.
"My." He rakes his fingertips over Mickey's bare back.
"Dick." He runs his hands down Mickey's chest and plays with his nipples, watching as his face contorts and a gasp escapes his lips.
"Please." He lies back down, pushing his underwear down to his knees and stroking himself with a mischievous smile.
Faster than lightning Mickey's mouth is on him, warmth and wetness surrounding him, and he lets go of his cock to grip Mickey's thick hair instead. He has a brief moment where he prays that nobody will come home right then, or he'll be dead, but he throws caution through the wind when Mickey runs his tongue through the slit and starts playing with his balls. He knows he won't last long anyway, seeing as he was already rock hard before and Mickey's wasting no time in sucking him vigorously, head bobbing up and down his shaft quickly. His hands hold Ian's hips in place as he moves down to suck on his balls, then lick Ian's perineum. Ian grunts as he licks his way up again, going back to sucking on his cock like his life depends on it. He manages to take most of it in his mouth, swallowing around it, making Ian moan deeply in response. He watches as Mickey leans back on his knees, pulls down his sweatpants and spits on his hand, taking out his angry red cock and working it with a fast hand.
"Get on your knees." Mickey's voice is hoarse and demanding and Ian does as he's told, his deep arousal overshadowing all other thoughts. He gets on his knees in front of the older boy and puts his hands on his hips, pressing their erections together. Mickey's hand encircles both their cocks together, making the heads touch. He squeezes lightly and briefly before moving his hand up and down both cocks. Ian looks down and he can swear he's never seen anything so hot in his life. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss Mickey, but the older boy turns his face. Ian feels rejected for half a second, before he dips to nibble at Mickey's earlobe. His hands cup Mickey's ass and he squeezes it, feeling his body tremble and hearing his breath hitch. The feeling of his dick pressed against Mickey's and his hand pumping them together makes his body hot all over, as if a sudden fever had taken over him. His body tenses and then releases, his orgasm hitting him like lightning and making him see stars before his shut eyes. He bites down on Mickey's shoulder when he comes, hard enough to taste blood, and he barely hears the moan it elicits from him. Mickey continues moving his hand for a minute more, fast and demanding, and then he's coming too, fingers digging into Ian's hip. Ian encircles his waist and rests his head on his shoulder and they stay like that for a while, waiting for their hearts to slow back to normal. Eventually, Mickey moves away, leaning to get his tank top and wipe his hand and torso with it. Ian's still fastening his jeans when he hears his commanding voice.
"You should go now."
He frowns, feeling rejected again, but nods, grabbing his jacket and leaving the Milkovich house without another word. It's only when he's a whole block away that he allows himself to smile to himself and do a bit of a happy dance. He whistles all the way home.