Ian tried to stay quiet as they walked to The Alibi.

Lip had been sending him surreptitious looks since they looked up the neighborhood registered sex offenders. Ian knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to say, but he didn't want to hear it. His relationship with Kash was different. He'd been fifteen, an age his family deemed old enough to work and take on the responsibility of helping with the upkeep of their house. So why wouldn't he have been old enough to decide who he fucks and when?

"Are we just gonna go in there and bust heads open?" Carl asked curiously with a bit too much hope in his voice.

"Yeah, my dad will help round up some people together," Mandy said as The Alibi came into view.

"And we do not tell Fiona about this, right Carl?" Lip asked with a pointed look. Carl grinned and nodded. Lip was seriously wondering if he should have left him out of this.

They walked through the door and spotted Terry in his usual spot by the pool table immediately.

"Who's the guy next to him?" Ian muttered to Mandy.

"My Uncle Tommy. That's why I haven't been living there. I'm not going to share a room with a guy who can't tell a bar of soap from a toothbrush," she snarled.

Lip took the lead and walked briskly to the table. Terry gave him a glance before focusing back on the game.

"What the fuck d'you want?" he asked grumpily.

Lip rubbed his hands on top of one another and took a quick peek at Terry's stance and the placement of the balls before coming to the conclusion he would miss.

He watched his prediction play out with minimal interest before turning his head back to Terry and said, "Convicted child rapist just moved in down the street." Terry had an odd dislike for certain criminals and convicts, such as sex offenders (as well as public nudists). Nobody really understood it, but everyone valued their balls enough to not ask him. Terry immediately looked at Tommy and said, "Let's get the boys," abandoning the game he was sorely losing. Within eight minutes, they were walking up the steps do the Milkovich household.

"BOYS!" Terry yelled as he slammed the door open. "LET'S GO." His two youngest sons came into the room reeking of sweat and old socks. "We've got another kid fucker to take care of." They both turned to grin at one another before going into the kitchen and opening up the cabinet full of weapons.

"Can we take a taser?" one of them asked eagerly.

"How about a cattle prod?" the other one added, a sadistic grin on his face.

Terry just grunted. "Where the fuck is your brother? MICKEY!" he yelled.

"I dunno, he ain't here though," one of them shrugged.

Mandy rolled her eyes and shoved her brother out of the way saying she'd go find him.

"No! I, uh, I'll go find him." Mandy looked at him oddly for a moment but nodded slowly and walked back to the group. Ian sighed with relief internally and headed out the door. He knew Mickey had a customer he was meeting and should be back relatively soon. He started walking in the direction he knew Mickey was coming from hoping to meet him along the way.

All these thoughts of Kash and his past relationships were making him angry. He wanted to forget them, to pretend they never happened. He wanted Mickey to make him forget. He was a few blocks away from the Milkovich house when he saw a familiar figure turning the corner with the same arrogant gait as the recently released convict.

As he got closer, Mickey's eyes passed over his face and immediately snapped back when he realized who was walking towards him. He smirked and thought of their latest fuck and how bored Ian had seemed before he even got there.

"Hey Gallagher, you back for more?" he called out with a cocky grin on his face. Ian sped up his walk and took a quick peek to the side before grabbing Mickey by the collar and shoving him into the pathway behind him. He looked surprised but smirked as he started to undo his belt buckle, the metal echoing in the empty passage. They went deeper into the alley and by the time they hit the end, they couldn't even see the entryway.

Mickey turned around, his pants sagging now that his belt wasn't holding them up. He was about to make a witty remark about Ian and his raging libido, but Ian roughly pushed him up against the concrete wall. He thrust his covered erection against Mickey's crotch, and Mickey let out a mix between a moan and laugh at the feeling. He began to drag his pants down his hips, but Ian was hard and impatient and knocked Mickey's fingers out of the way, shoving his pants and boxers down. Ian was keen and only had the patience to drag them down to Mickey's knees. Mickey's hard cock bobbed when it was released, and as soon as Ian saw it, he got on his knees and swallowed Mickey whole.

Mickey was unprepared and choked on a guttural moan, his fingers immediately finding purchase in Ian's hair. It was shorter than it had ever been, and Mickey was going to make sure Firecrotch never cut it that short again. He liked tugging on his soft hair, literally pulling needy noises from Ian with every jerk.

Ian suddenly sucked hard and hollowed his cheeks. Mickey let out a strangled breath as he tried not to come within the first ten seconds of being in Ian's mouth. His hips jerked as if they were trying to pound into his mouth with reckless abandon. Ian pulled back and started to bob his head at varying speeds. Every time he sank down on Mickey, his forehead touched his abdomen. Mickey felt the head from Ian's skin bleed through his skin into his veins, fueling the fire coursing through his system.

They'd never been this physically close before. For an act so intimate, the sex between them had been impersonal, a means of satiating their desperate need for pleasure. Sometimes their hands would wander and grab a hand or hip, but they'd never been as physically close as they were now. When Ian fucked him from behind, his chest didn't rest on his back. Even when he was fucked while facing forwards, even when Ian is buried inside him, they're feet apart.

But this was intimate. Ian's whole front was pressed against Mickey's thighs, his cock brushing below his knees smearing some precum along the skin. Mickey could feel Ian's erect nipples brushing against him every time he moved his head back. Ian's hands grasped Mickey's firm cheeks, fingers clenching so hard they were bruising. Every so often he would gently pull them outwards, pulling Mickey's cheeks apart and letting the cold air brush against his puckered hole.

Ian slowed down and let his lips slide back towards the tip. He hesitantly licked his slit making Mickey quickly turn to bury his chin in his shoulder to stifle his heavy breathing and the noises escaping his mouth. He felt dizzy with pleasure. It was only when Ian sucked him down effortlessly and gracefully to the base that he felt a prick of jealousy sting at his chest. Because to be this good, Ian would've needed practice on other people; people who weren't him. He let out a growl that sounded more like a breathy whine. He couldn't complain though; he was almost willing to compare this to sex itself. No girl had ever gone down on him before, and there were obviously no boys before Ian. His life before Gallagher had been chock-full of quick fucks. Even in prison, he fucked for protection, not pleasure.

Ian wrapped his lips around the tip and gently sucked. Mickey bit his tongue hard drawing blood so he wouldn't say anything embarrassing. Ian tongued the underside of his cock and roughly mouthed at his balls before trailing his attention to the whole shaft. His tongue licked a stripe from base to tip again, his lips gently pressing against the crown of his dick and staying there for a few beats. Abruptly he swallowed it down to the root, his nose smashing against Mickey's stomach and the thick cock slipping slightly down his throat. Ian hollowed out his cheeks one last time and moaned as one of Mickey's hands slipped from his hip and glanced off his appendage. Mickey cried out at the same time Ian's finger grazed against his open hole. His orgasm slammed into him, white hot, stealing away his breath. Ian didn't miss a beat and swallowed every last bit, his expertise shining through when not even a drop dribbles down his chin.

Mickey panted, his lungs finding it hard to take in any oxygen. Ian let him go with a soft pop! before lazily lapping at the gradually softening cock. When Mickey's pulse began to steady and his dick started to feel too sensitive, his thoughts crashed back into reality and he realized they're only a minute away from his house. His muscles tensed and he was ready to give Gallagher a fucking piece of his mind for being such a retard.

Ian sensed the shift and says, "They're going through the weapons right now, don't worry. They're all inside." As if Mickey should know who 'they' are and why weapons are being drawn at all. Mickey looked down to pull up his pants and saw the outline of Ian's raging erection against his jeans. He opened his mouth but pauses wondering if offering was something a boyfriend would do, but Ian just adjusted himself and started walking back towards the opening. As if his cock wasn't twitching in his pants, and as if he wasn't just on his knees swallowing Mickey down to the base. He turned his head to Mickey and casually remarked he could take care of himself later before striding through the opening confidently leaving Mickey to follow.


Unbeta'd and my first fic in a while. :/ Also posted on AO3.