Liar Liar
Mandy is out with a girl she met in her and Ian's economics class. The two are buying makeup. Odds are, Mandy is stealing it.
". . .and I can't deal with it. . ."
Mickey's father had stormed out after an argument with Iggy. The old man is likely down at the Alibi playing the pool tournament he'd been raving on about only hours ago. Iggy and Tony fucked off and went on a beer run. Iggy with a busted lip and Tony having gotten a real kick out of seeing his brother smacked around by dear old dad.
". . .such a bitch. . ."
Finally Mickey had had alone time. That time was rare lately.
Iggy was constantly on Mickey's case about hooking up with the two bitches who had moved in across the street. Little did Iggy know the mere thought kind of turned Mickey's stomach. The girls were skanky looking. Plus they were girls and mostly uninteresting to Mickey's penis. Not to mention that Mickey isn't sexually pent up like his fuckwit brother. Mickey has Ian for that. Ian who has recently also been taking up a too large portion of Mickey's time. Most of it spent fucking. But lately the two have actually taken time out to talk. This, Mickey isn't sure he likes. Ian does and that is the main reason Mickey wants to shy away from anything but the sex. And if he was smart, which he isn't, he would stop that as well. Mickey really doesn't want Ian getting the wrong idea. But it's slightly too late.
". . .god damned Frank doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. I hate both my. ."
Especially being as, about fifteen minutes ago, Ian had showed up on Mickey's doorstep, red faced and frantic. Upset over his mom's being home, Mickey now knows, and thinking that Mickey will be of some comfort. Well he won't. Mickey only knows how to fuck someone, not relate to them. Not to give hugs and tell someone a mouth full of lies. Not to pat Ian on the back and tell the guy everything would be fine. Fuck that shit. Nothing is ever fine in this neighborhood.
"She's just going to run off again, and even though I know that. . ."
Since the first time, the two have been at it at least once a day, give or take. For Mickey, this whole experience is rather new. Truth is, Mickey has only slept with one other guy who is long since gone from South Side. Between them, sex only happened once. After that, Mickey had been mostly celibate. Because he isn't suicidal. Until apparently now. And because fucking chicks doesn't get Mickey off. He can get it up but can't ever finish. He has to fake it most of the time with a girl. Which is fucking difficult to pull off, being a guy and all. But Mickey has mastered it.
" . . .says she's sorry and I know she's not!"
While it had been nice, all five minutes of having a quiet house, Mickey had given it up and slammed the door behind him. Strolled toward the Kash and Grab, dick twitching in his pants at the thought of Ian, angry sex, and the cooler. So Imagine Mickey's surprise upon arriving and seeing Ian being anything but sexy. In fact, ginger-boy is now biting back tears. Again.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Gallagher," Mickey grumbles, scowling and crossing his arms. His ass is frozen even though his jeans, as he sits atop the many boxes of chilled sodas, "suck it the hell up."
Ian wipes at his face and then punches the wall. Clearly he is frustrated with himself for getting this emotional in front of someone. His cheeks are flushed, and not just from tearing up again. Letting out a long breath, Ian leans his back against the cooler racks. He stares down at his feet, face sulky and angered. Real sour like.
Mickey groans and rolls his eyes. "My mom is shitty too," he says. "You don't see me crying about it."
Ian furrows his brow and looks Mickey over. "I thought your mom was dead?" he asks. "Mandy said," he clarifies.
Mickey rolls his eyes yet again. "Mandy just likes to pretend she is," he tells Ian, thumbing his lower lip. "And for all the good that woman does us," he explains, "she may as well be."
Sighing, Ian steps away from the rack, closing in on Mickey. Mickey tenses up but relaxes once he gets a good look at the intent on Ian's freckled face. Smirking, Mickey starts unzipping his pants and standing up. Ian follows suit, and before Mickey even knows what's going on, Ian turns him around and bends Mickey over the sodas. A husky grunt escapes Mickey's lips and Ian chuckles. Mickey's right sleeve bunches up at the quickness of Ian's action. His arms dig into the bottle caps roughly. The boxes are digging into Mickey's ribs and that shit really hurts. But not as much as Ian's dick is going to when it rams up Mickey's ass, if the guy doesn't lather on some lube. Mickey jerks away from Ian's hands on his back, looks over his shoulder, and voices his thought. Ian just grins down at him, lets go and bends down to dig through the pocket of the pants around his ankles. Mickey straightens up while Ian does this. Pulls his pants up enough to move away from the boxes. If he's going to get fucked, he sure as hell ain't doing so while in pain. Mickey's into rough sex, but not unnecessary stuff like achy ribs for days. Which would happen if Ian keeps him over those bottles.
Holding the tube of lubricant in one hand, Ian cocks his head at Mickey, a smile forming on his stupid mouth. "Can't get situated?" he mocks, shaking the tube some, then squirting some into his hand. All while maintaining eye contact. That should unnerve Mickey, but it only makes him crack a smirk.
"Fuck off," Mickey says, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Now Ian's smile spreads full on. "Getting ready to," he comments, then dodges Mickey's smack to the back of his red head.
"Dick," Mickey chuckles, licking the corner of his mouth and letting his eyes glide of Ian's bare bottom half. He knows full well the pun he's making, and when Ian actually laughs wholeheartedly, Mickey can't hide the smile on his own face; it's infectious.
"Exactly," Ian says, dropping the tube to the floor and and reaching out for Mickey's arm. He grips Mickey bicep, then says, "Turn around."
Normally Mickey doesn't let anyone boss him, but with Ian Gallagher, he's been letting a lot slide. So he turns around and grabs the rack. Waits. Ian shuffles around. Mickey furrows his brow, smile turning to a frown, and looks to the side as Ian's shirt goes flying. Mickey hears Ian applying the lube, finally. And then Ian's hands are on Mickey's hips, tugging the jeans down again, resting on bare flesh. Mickey leans over, feels Ian press against him. Ian's nails dig into Mickey's hips as he slips in slowly. And Mickey bites his tongue, tastes blood, and refuses to let out the moan tickling his throat. "Hurry the hell up," Mickey growls and feels Ian's hot breath on his neck when the boy laughs. Ian's chest shakes silently against him, and Ian pauses, then slams home. Mickey actually calls out because he wasn't expecting it. Mickey moans out a curse. He can't believe how fucking vocal he's being, and it's pissing him off. He grips the rack hard. Holds his breath as Ian pulls out and slids back in slower this time. Makes a damned point to do this to Mickey a few good times. And then that's all she wrote. Mickey loses sense of control.
Eventually they fuck hard and fast. Like Mickey likes it. But after a few minutes, Ian's slowing down again and Mickey can't find the heart to complain. Especially since the friction feels so good. His eyes are closed, his head is bowed, and he's holding onto the rack for dear life. He barely notices when one of Ian's hands slides under the back of his sweater, rubbing his lower back, and the other leaves Mickey's body entirely. The only thing Mickey focuses on is the building orgasm and Ian's guttural grunts. Which is why, when Ian's hands covers Mickey, Mickey's eyes pop open and he glances over his shoulder. His face is contorted. He can't seem to get his emotions in order. So instead of scowling and telling Ian to remove his giant hand, Mickey ends up moaning and pulling a pained face.
Ian bites down on his chapped lips, still going strong. His freckled features are pulled in a mask of pleasure. He snakes his hand up Mickey's back fast. Fucker is snake like. Mickey doesn't even have time to react. Practically holding hands with mickey, Ian takes this thing a step further. That sneaky hands is grabbing Mickey's neck, wrapping around the left side of Mickey's face. Ian's fingers dig into Mickey's cheek only a little, and he forces Mickey's head up.
Mickey chokes out a moan again when Ian's dick rubs against his prostate. He doesn't know why he didn't see this coming.
Ian presses fully against Mickey. He doesn't stop moving his hips. One thing Mickey's grateful for. And the prick lowers his face a mere inch from Mickey's. It's an awkward angle. It's an awkward kiss. Ian's lips, rough and scaly, feather across Mickey's. Mickey gasps into the kiss when Ian deepens it. Tries to jerk his head away, but Ian's hand is unforgiving.
There is no tongue involved. Just a gentle peck. And Mickey, panting still, stares at Ian when the boy pulls back and continues fucking Mickey like nothing has happened. Hand still over Mickey's, even when the cooler door jerks open. Even when both boys look over, owl-eyed, at Kash.
Author's Note – My headcanon is that Ian kissed Mickey at some point during season one. I like to think it was during the scene Kash walked in on. So here is my rendition!
My reasoning for this is that, when Ian goes to visit Mickey in juvie, Mickey tells Ian not to say he misses him again. . .or he's going to rip Ian's tongue out. Which he has said before and Ian seemed to take seriously. BUT note that in that visiting scene, Ian grins at Mickey's threat. I think it's because he knows Mickey's bluffing. Because he's called him on that bluff before! Just saying. They've totally kissed. In my mind, anyway.