Mickey's known the redheaded boy all his life, but he's never paid him much attention before now. Just another one of those Gallaghers, whatever, not important. Now, however, they had football practice together (he's not one for sports, but slamming other guys to the ground is always fun). Now they're in the locker room together, the foul smell of dozens of sweaty teenage boys in the air. He changes quickly, just another T-shirt, a quick wash of the armpits, and that's it. He's not a pussy, no need to wash everything all the time. Plus, he gets to leave quickly and avoids seeing some of the boys naked. That was definitely something he did not need to see, he tells himself. He doesn't want to see naked boys. Doesn't like naked boys. Nope. No way. No fucking way. He ignores that small part of his brain saying he's lying to himself and turns to leave the locker room quickly, but it's too late, for some of the boys have already taken off their clothes and headed to the showers. Fucking pussies. Why do they need to shower all the time anyway? He averts his eyes, no need for any of them to think he's staring, but not before he catches a glimpse of Gallagher's crotch, with his fucking red pubes all around and his cock that even in rest Mickey can see is a long, good one. His fire crotch. He curses under his breath and leaves, but the memory stays with him.
He dreams about that fire crotch that night, of burying his nose in it and feeling those red pubes against his cheek (soft, of course they're soft). He inhales deeply, the musky male scent flowing up his nostrils and making him salivate with want, with need. He licks his lips in anticipation, his own cock filling slowly in his boxers. He licks a broad stripe up the swollen cock in front of him, ending at the tip and swirling his tongue around it, the bitter taste of the precum exploding in his tongue. He flattens his tongue against the underside of his cock and pushes his mouth down until his nose is once again touching that fire hair. He swallows around the tip, accommodating, and a hand flies up to pull at his hair. He pulls out until only the head is in his mouth, keeping it open and letting the drool collect on his mouth and spill around it. He closes his lips around the head, sucking on it intensely and earning a moan of appreciation. He bobs his head up and down, engulfing more of the cock in his mouth each time, once more ending with the cock full on his mouth. His own cock is now leaking and pulsing and he reaches down to stroke it, humming with delight. The hand on his hair tightens its grip and that's the only warning he gets before his mouth is being filled with cum. He swallows around it, licking it clean once it's over, not a single drop escaping him. Licking his lips, he glances up from his kneeling position to look into the eyes of Ian Gallagher.
He jostles awake, panting and sweating, and notices the wetness on his sheets. His whole body feels like it's on fire and he sits up, struggling to control his breath. What the fuck was that dream? He's never done that, sucked off another guy. He's done some stuff with guys before, stuff he'd rather not think about for too long, but he's never given someone a hummer, never wanted to. And Ian Gallagher? He's just a scrawny redhead who Mickey could think had a pussy instead of a dick and a set of balls if he hadn't seen them himself. Stupid firecrotch.