Gapfiller Fic. Don't normally gapfill but the perv in me had to! This is my Shameless fic debut. Which is weird because I started with the original version years ago (which I love) and now started watching the American version (which I adore). This is my tribute to it. No disrespect intended. No copyright infringement intended. Just much love...!
Warning. M for Sex, Language, Substance misuse and Underage drinking. That's Shameless for you (!)...
Someone taps on the cell door with a set of keys, waking me and my cellmate up from our afternoon sleep. I have been sleeping a lot since being locked up a month ago. There is fuck all else to do on the juvie ward of county prison.
"Milkovich, you have a visitor." The prison officer's voice carries across the door. I smile. I know this guy well.
I figure he is talking about Mandy, again. My little sister is the only one who has come to see me since I got here. It isn't going to be dad. He is too busy getting drunk. Or sleeping during the day. Or fucking some skank in plain view of Mandy now that she is the only one sharing the house with him. Or thinking up some get rich quick scam. That fucker has no time to see me, his second son. He hasn't even bothered visiting Jamie once. That's my older brother who is currently serving time across the road.
Not that I care. I don't need him. He is a waste of space.
The cell's bolt unlocks, the door swings open and I hear the heavy steps of the officer approaching me so I turn away in my tiny bed on the top bunk to face the grey dirty wall. I ignore the douche bag standing next to the bunk bed and the throb in my right thigh caused by Ian Gallagher's ex-fuckbuddy shooting me at the Kash and Grab.
"Fuck off." I say, curling up into a ball and shutting my eyes. "I'm busy."
My cellmate, who is lying in his bed below me, swallows a laugh.
Suddenly I am dragged off the bunk and onto my feet by big burly hands. I keep my weight off my injured leg as I am pushed against a wall, colliding with it forcefully. The prison officer's fists are bunching the collar of my blue uniform and lifting me onto the tips of my toes. Fuck me. He is strong but I am not scared.
Dan doesn't scare me.
In fact I am kind of turned on.
I smile up at him.
"Quit smiling, Mickey. You want to add another month to your time in here boy?" He sneers.
I look him straight in the eye. I give him a wink that my cellmate can't see and push my tongue against the inside of my cheek repeatedly. I am reminding him of last week when he quickly dragged me into the store cupboard for a blowjob like he was the deprived one that was locked up in a juvenile correctional facility for up to a year with no entitled conjugal visits.
By the way, does the government not realise that legal minors have sexual needs and rights? Last time I checked the age of consent was seventeen. Depriving me can seriously affect my mental health and cause me to resort to desperate measures.
Case in point, Danny. I was developing a serious case of blue balls until this mick caught my eye within a week of me getting here. Thank God he approached me one day while I was getting changed in the showers. This fucking prison officer slapped my ass then squeezed it.
And that is how our 'agreement' began. I scratch his back. He scratches mine. If you know what I mean. Cigarettes, gum, extra pillows, bigger portions at meal times in exchange for me showing him a good time.
But I have a rule. Nothing goes up my ass without being wrapped up. I wasn't born yesterday. This ass wipe has probably done this many times before with many boys. I got stung once after having unprotected, drunken random sex back in Canaryville with some fucker. Thank goodness I am a conscientious guy. It took two trips and sets of tests at the STD clinic, a short course of antibiotics and three months of anxiety before I got the all clear.
Could have been worse but I'm not taking any more chances. Bag up or back up I say now. No exceptions.
I laugh in his face and say,
"I don't think it's a good idea to threaten me." I lift an eyebrow and look down at his groin suggestively.
He pushes me away, scared. I stumble onto my right leg. It fucking kills but I don't show it.
"You are a cocky little shit, Mickey."
He's right so I smirk as I size him up. He's alright looking, really. Mid-thirties. Toned... Married with kids. I smile because I have the power here. He is the one in the wrong and with everything to lose (family, job, reputation) by having sex with a male inmate behind his wife's back.
It is illegal for a person to commit sexual acts on a person under the age of 18 if he/she has a position of authority or trust over the victim.
I'm pretty sure I read that somewhere. Danny could get into a whole load of shit if this all came out.
"I think it's so much better when we get along, Danny." I say his name like we are best friends.
He picks up my crutches and shoves them into my chest. I wedge them under my armpits.
He doesn't look me in the eye when he says, "Come on you prick."
So I follow him silently because one more month in this dump for the sake of an argument with this asshole isn't worth it.
"You don't want to keep your friend waiting." He says.
Hold up. Wait a minute. Friend? Not sister? There is a stutter in my heart beat. I pick up the speed of my limp down the corridor as I follow him.
I don't know why but one person comes to mind; someone who might come to see me. He is my sister's friend. Her classmate. Her 'boyfriend' apparently. Must be for show only. There is nothing in Ian Gallagher that swings that way. I should know. I have hooked up with the fire-headed fucker once or five times. We come together and then we cum together. Wham bam thank you ma'am.
My ass and dick twitch just thinking about it.
Anyway, it won't be him. I barely know the guy and I am sure he doesn't give a fuck that I'm locked up but when I get to the visiting room there he is. Sitting there with a smile on his face. Shy smile.
Ian. Fucking. Gallagher.
I have known of him pretty much my whole life. That is how it is for most people in our neighbourhood. Everyone knows everyone because nobody is mad enough to move to Canaryville and nobody is smart enough to leave. Still, until a few months ago Ian barely registered on my radar. I was in Lip's class at school and Ian was just that walking dick with a brain's quiet ROTC obsessed younger brother with crazy red hair, green eyes and freckles.
That is until we started fucking. He came round to my house a few months ago to get his 'boyfriend' Kash's gun, the same one that would later be used to maim me, and walked away with the firearm and a new fuck buddy.
"You've got twenty minutes, Mickey." Dan says as I hop towards Ian.
Fuck off, Dan. You are nothing. Dust.
I sit down opposite Ian, separated by the bullet proof see-through window and pick up the receiver to talk to him.
"Thank you for putting money into my commissary account. I was running low on smokes." I say, not knowing what else to say.
"It wasn't me. Kash. I told him you might still press charges."
I smile back at him. Fuck knows why? Maybe it is because I can't think of when someone ever did something for me.
"Thanks." I say.
His eyes go all soft, like some putz. He leans closer to the glass and whispers,
"How long?"
"I don't know. It's supposed to be a year. Right?" Did I just imagine his face drop? "Maybe a couple of months if I don't do anything stupid."
"Like what?"
"Like stab that fat fucking mick..." My voice rises as rage takes control and I spot the guy in question sitting a few people away. "... who keeps trying to steal my jell-o!"
"Who me?" The prick says.
"Yeah!"
I realise then that there is no chance my jail sentence will be slashed because I am going to cut someone first.
"Fuck you!" I shout at the dickhead.
Everybody pisses me off except Ian right now.
I turn back to him. He is trying to say something but it won't come out. I raise my eyebrow impatiently.
Fucking speak, I think.
His face goes red. He is embarrassed.
"I miss you."
I nearly snap the phone receiver in my hand.
Fuck me.
I can't believe he just said that. Nobody misses me. Nobody says shit like that to me. Fucking faggot talk.
"You say that again and I'll rip your tongue out of your head." I sneer.
My heart is beating fast though, like it is going to fucking come out of my chest. When he smiles again and looks at me the way he does after we fuck I find my face mellow into an almost grin. I must be in a good mood today. I wouldn't normally put up with this shit.
He puts his hand on the glass that separates us.
Fuck me. Is this guy serious? I look either side of us to make sure no one has seen him act like a girl.
"Take your hand off the glass." I order him.
He drops it immediately. "Oh."
xo
After three months, I am released on parole. Not bad. Could have been longer since I had a couple of non physical run-ins with people while I was on the inside.
I'm not exactly dressed to impress (an old wife-beater vest, grey baggy jeans held up with a black belt and beige hand-me-down hoodie hanging over my shoulder) but then I am only expecting Mandy outside the gates.
So it is a surprise when I see Gallagher there too.
An alright surprise, I guess.
Still, I say,
"What the hell is he doing here?"
"Hey Mickey." He says.
I stare at him.
He has changed. Filled out. Grown taller. I can see his toned muscles through his t-shirt. His black jeans look the business. They fit him right. Not like my old weather beaten faded ones. His hair is shorter than before. Makes him look more grown up. And there is nothing shy about him now. He is giving me a knowing smile like he has got my number.
Fucker.
"He thought I needed protection." Mandy says.
"Oh yeah?" I speak to him. "Trust me, you may think you know my sister? You don't know my sister until you've fought my sister. She's the one protecting your ass."
I pull her into a hug.
"You smell of barbeque sauce." She mumbles into my neck.
So I pinch her nipples hard the way I did growing up. It seems to have a similar effect to kicking a dude in the nuts and its the only way guaranteed to make me win in a fight with her.
She screams and tries to get away from me.
"I smell like what?" I taunt her.
"Ouch get off!" She says. She somehow manages to push me off her and nearly gets me into a half Nelson. No lie. My sister is a true Milkovich. You don't mess with her. This could get embarrassing in front of Ian.
"What did dad tell you?" She hisses at me.
She is seriously hurting me.
"Awww! Fuck the police?" I guess as she twists my arm behind my back before pushing me away forcefully.
"No titty twisters now that I am a C-cup." She states angrily.
"C-cup? Bitch, you wish!" I say, soothing my sore arm by rubbing it.
I turn to say my goodbyes to my fellow inmates and guards,
"Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you too!"
Ian drags me and Mandy away telling me that we should go before I get hauled back inside.
I make a note of how strong his arm feels across my shoulder before shrugging him off me.
I am no fairy. What does he want? Us to walk around hand in hand?
Please.
xo
When we get home, Mandy and Ian make pizza bagels and then slouch on the sofa in the living room playing videogames.
When I ask where dad is, Mandy replies,
"Dunno. Haven't seen him in nearly two weeks."
Great so he has left a fifteen year old girl living on her own. My dad's an asshole.
Ian offers me food and asks me to join them to eat.
"What? Join you faggots? Fucking school kids!" I say acting like the big man even though I am three months away from eighteen and he is half way into sixteen. "I'd rather have a bullet through my brain."
I march to my room, slamming the door behind me. I think back to the three times Ian and me have done it here. We have always had to be quiet because either dad or Mandy or both were around. I locked the door before we helped each other get naked. Then we would get down to business. No fucking kisses. This isn't a Disney movie. Maybe an eye-popping hand job or a toe curling blowjob. But then nothing compared to the main show; a hard dirty fuck with me on my hands and knees driven into the bed or floor.
I know you asswipes will think that makes me the pansy but it takes a man to take it like that. And Ian knows how to put it on me.
The truth is I expect him to come into my room soon, the way he has in the past. But this time he doesn't. Two hours pass. I smoke a little pot, masturbate while trying not to think about that red haired dickhead then fall asleep.
When I wake up I hear him and Mandy talking in hushed tones in the living room so I step out of my room. They are still on the couch. My sister's legs are over his; her head resting on his shoulder. What the fuck are they doing all up next to each other like that?
She is holding a notebook and pen while he is holding a book.
"Romeo is full of melancholy as he walks under a grove of sycamore trees in the early morning mist." Mandy says.
"Sycamore. It is like a play on words. Syc-amore. Sick. Love." Ian says smiling at her. "He is pining for Rosaline but it is..."
"... fucked up love." Mandy says smiling back.
"Exactly. Ill-fated. A bit like his love for Juliet." He says. Is he rubbing my sister's leg?
Bitch! Step off.
"Yeah. I guess but at least the love he shares with Juliet is pure and true." Mandy goes.
"It's still doomed though." Ian says.
I have heard enough.
"What are you douche bags talking about?" I ask as I walk up to them. I don't wait for a reply but push my sister off Ian so that I can wedge myself between them on the couch.
"Romeo and Juliet. It's for English class." Ian grins at me and makes more room for me.
"Shit, Mickey!" Mandy says as she adjusts herself on the couch too. "I thought you had gone to take a shower. You still stink."
Ian looks at me closely so I sniff my armpits. I ain't that bad. My feet are another matter though. I need to get some new socks. These ones are fifty percent hole, fifty percent material. Still, fuck these two. I am not cleaning up for anyone.
I grab a cold pizza bagel and wolf it down. Damn. I'm hungry.
"Have you been smoking pot in there?" My sister says. Always with the accusations.
"No." But I'm grinning like a loon. I'm buzzing. I can't lie.
"We were studying so..." She says angrily.
"Do I look like I fucking care?" I say, spitting bits of cheese, tomato and bread at her as I speak with my mouth full. "I want to play a video game now so you can fuck off." I tell her.
I grab a controller that Ian is partly sitting on (I have a good feel of his ass while I am there, subtle, so Mandy doesn't notice) and then start playing a car chase game.
Mandy stares at me for a minute and then groans like she has had enough. She stands up and shoves me so hard that I fall back onto Ian.
"God, you are such a loser!" She shouts.
I mimic her, shrill tone and all, and she storms off towards our main door,
"I'm going out! I wish they never granted you your parole!"
"Well fuck you too!" I shout back at her, turning around on the couch and leaning over it towards her so that my voice carries better. The door slams shut behind her.
Now it is just me and Ian. The game and my sister are forgotten. I can't stand the two of them together. Whispering. Hugging. Kissing each other on the lips. Don't know what they are playing at when they do that. Who does that except married folk and straights?
I rest back and swing my arm onto the back of the couch so that it is over Ian's shoulders and look at him. I give him a smile. A hello. Then I take in his new body properly since I couldn't with my sister's hawk eyes on me earlier.
Fucking nice.
He tries to kiss me. I pull away. Can't he get a hint? I don't do that.
He looks disappointed like he expected to put it on me now that the coast is clear but I'm not making it that easy for him. Jesus. What do I look like? Someone's booty call? Fuck me! Also, I don't know if Mandy is going to change her mind and walk back at any moment. Or my dad.
I say,
"You been working out?"
He pats his stomach. "Yeah. You?"
"Fuck all else to do on the inside. Except sleep and tone up." I lift up my top and point at my abs. "Feel."
He licks his lips and his ears go red before he touches me, running his fingers down my chest and stomach until he reaches the belt of my jeans. "Um. Yeah."
Suddenly I have an idea. I slap his hand away and pull down my top.
"You wanna go to the baseball field?" I ask.
"Like to play?" His eyes widen. He doesn't get it.
I laugh. Is he seriously thinking we are going to do some pitching and catching? Him pitching? Me catching?
Actually...
"Yeah. Sure. We'll play."
He smiles as he gets my meaning, "Yeah. Okay."
I stand up and he does too but then I look down at the state I'm in. I am not doing this for him but I go,
"Wait. Sit down for a second. I'm going to grab a quick shower before we go."
xo
Under the jet of hot water I pay special attention to the bits that matter. Step out. Dry. Deo up. Use my dad's cologne under my jaw and on my balls. I sniff out a clean pair of drawers and put on a borrowed pair of dad's socks. He has clearly been shoplifting at Wal-mart recently. There is a whole new set of black socks. Paired. I wonder whether there is a link between that and his disappearance. Then I get back into the clothes I was wearing before. This is as good as it's going to get. There is nothing cleaner or nicer that fits me.
I pick up my backpack and begin to fill it with stuff. When people prepare for picnics they pack a basket full of finger food, sandwiches, pop, fresh fruit, maybe a bottle of wine and a blanket to sit on. But Ian and me are not going on some faggoty picnic. I put a packet of cigarettes, condoms, gum and lube all courtesy of Kash and Grab into my bag as well as a face cloth and a switchblade.
I walk back into the living room and Ian bounces onto his feet, looking at me like a loyal dog waiting for my instruction. I brush past him and stuff a six pack of beers and two Snickers bars from the fridge into my bag too.
"Are we all set?" He asks.
I open the door and grab a set of house keys. "Hell yeah."
xo
Night falls quickly. It is pitch black when we walk through the floodlit baseball field towards the dugout.
Ian's gone quiet so I fill in the silence.
"It's hotter than balls tonight." I say and spit onto the ground.
"So I am taking geometry, algebra 2, trigonometry and chemistry." He says as if he hasn't heard me.
"During the summer?" I ask. I was right. This guy is a putz. Young hung and full of cum and yet he wants to spend his free time filling his head with equations? What a douche.
"Well I am trying to get into West Point." He explains.
I laugh at him because this is how different we are. I would never put myself in the line of fire for my country. For my sister, brother and myself. Sure.
"If you want the army to give you a gun all you need to do is enlist. The recruitment station is, like, two blocks that way." I tell him.
We walk into the dugout.
"But I want to be an officer." He says.
"You want to be an officer, huh? Don't officers get shot first?"
I can picture him though. In uniform. Looking the part. Commanding his soldiers. Kinda Hot.
He smiles at me. Weird. I thought he had dimples. He doesn't but it's still a nice smile.
Anyway, talk is cheap and I am horny as fuck. We are here for a reason and one reason only.
The buzz I had from the joint is gone so I open my bag and take out a can of beer.
I call shotgun and stab it in its centre before putting my lips to the hole I have created and sucking.
I indicate for him to come near me and place the hole onto his lips. Our hands touch for a second until he takes hold of the can himself and drinks.
I am impatient now as I watch him swallow rapidly. I glance down at his package while he is not looking. I am fucking ready to do this already.
I smile at him when he chokes on the bubbles and spits out the last few drops of booze, throwing the empty can on the floor.
Suddenly, he is Mr. Chatty-man. "So, did you make a lot of friends on the inside?"
I burp and then cut to the chase, "You wanna chit-chat some more or you wanna get on me?"
I tongue my teeth and stare right at him. Daring him.
His answer is clear and concise. A smile and then an unzipping of his jeans. He pushes them and his underwear down to his ankles. He is shameless when he stands up straight showing me his cock which is already rocking a semi.
He smiles so I unbuckle my belt and pull my bottom bits down just as far as my knees. He steps up to me and grabs my hips pushing us together so that we are groin on groin. I feel him get harder against my hip.
I am already rock hard like some desperado but then I have been locked away and deprived of this for some time. The odd sexual favour I paid Danny doesn't count. There was an agenda with that cunt.
There is no agenda with Ian. This is just about getting our rocks off.
He knows better than to kiss me now. Instead he drops to his knees awkwardly since his jeans are trapping his ankles. He grabs my dick and spits on it twice. Classy boy. Then he licks it, spreading the slipperiness. He ain't half bad at this. He has me down his throat before I have time to think. I hiss and sigh, leaning against the ledge while he does his thing. He bobs up and down taking me into him, looking up at me while he does with his crystal clear green eyes.
I look down at his actions and I feel even more turned on. Nothing like getting a glimpse of my cock disappearing over and over again into his mouth. I also get a peek at his round ass every time he leans forward. It is not a bad sight. If I was into that sort of thing, I would say it was highly fuckable but I prefer to be on the receiving end of things.
Things heat up so I push him further down on me with my hand combed through his soft hair on the back of his head so that his nose is stuffed into my dark pubes. I keep him there, enjoying the wet, tight warmness offered by his mouth. He has gotten really good at this. No more close scrapes with his incisors, thank fuck.
His throat tightens around me eventually and I feel him gag so I let go and he comes up for air, staring at me with a cheeky grin and spit slicked lips. Shit. I nearly got close to laying a kiss on him.
I pull him back onto his feet and wrap my hand confidently around his cock, instead.
"Nice." I whisper hoarsely to him.
It is a thing of beauty, his cock. Cut. Thick. Slightly curving to the right. Pale, like the rest of him and arising out of a soft thatch of ginger pubes.
I could spend a while playing with it with my hands or my throat but we both know where the real fun lies.
"Wanna play?" I ask him.
"Fuck yes."
So I shuffle towards my bag, take out a johnny and lube and throw them onto the ledge near where we are before kneeling on one of the benches and bending over so that my head rests on the wire fence and my hands grip it.
"Get to it pitcher." I say over my shoulder. I push my ass out to him and exhale, closing my eyes.
I hear him grab the rubber and lube. There is a rip of packaging; a sigh as he rolls the rubber on. Then I hear lube squirted twice. The second time, it is a cool wetness on my ass that is then smeared over me with gentle fingers.
He takes his time rubbing it against me. Fucking tease. He then rests his prick between my ass cheeks and rocks slowly against my hole then he pushes in, nice and slow. Stretching me out.
"That's it." I pant as he gets in balls deep so that I can feel the fullness of his cock and the furriness of his fire-red crotch against me. He grips my hips tightly pushing me back onto him even more and begins to thrust.
This. Fucking. Feels. Awesome.
I start to jerk off in time with his pushes, careful not to go crazy. Don't want to cum too soon. My face is shoved into the metal wire of the fence so I pull away from it but one hand still grips it to stabilise me.
Ian is being too gentle, though. I'm not some pussy. I can take it and I want to feel it so I push back on him, fucking myself on his cock so that the slap of my ass on him echoes loudly in the dugout. He is moaning loudly with that surprisingly deep voice of his and I can't help letting out a gasp or sigh or two when he really hits the spot.
"Fucking harder!" I groan as I release my cock and grip his hip to pull him into me.
A laugh tumbles out of him and he gets to it so I can rest from my actions. Credit where credit is due. Ian can take instruction and perform a command like no other. Maybe he will go far in the military. I practically fall over from being pummelled so hard.
I feel a tingle that begins in my balls and ass soon after. Ian pushes my top up so that my back and chest are exposed. I feel his lips touch my spine and his tongue swipes at it then he wraps his arms around me so that his chest is flush with mine. I should tell him to cut it out, stop kissing me, but I am too far gone.
I am jerking myself off but I am doing a pretty shit job of it. I keep forgetting what I'm doing with the incredible cock in my ass so he takes over, gripping my dick firmly and rubbing one out of me. My shout is more like a bark; hoarse and forced out as I shoot all over the bench. Fuck me!
He cums soon after. "Fuck!" He shouts and then laughs against my neck. He plants another wet kiss there and pulls his arms more firmly around me.
He feels heavy against my back as he tries to catch his breath.
Soon I am with it again. I reach back to place my hand on his stomach (fucking firm abs, I tell you) and push him off me, feeling him pull out of my ass at the same time.
I stand up straight, quickly pull my vest down and jeans up and do my belt up again.
"I've always wanted to do that here!" I shout, feeling alive for the first time in months. Then I laugh. The air is warm but it still feels cool against my skin because of my sweat. "Getting back at that little league commissioner who kicked me off his team for pissing all over first base."
"I remember." Ian says. I turn to get a glimpse of his cock before he tucks it away and zips up. A flash of pink in a bed of fire red. The condom is already tied off and on the ground.
"You heard about that?" I say. He looks like the King pin. Man about town. He is fucked out and feeling great, I can tell.
He jumps to grip his hands onto a handle bar above him.
"I was playing second." He says smiling down at me as he does a few pull ups.
Show off. Like the exercise we just did isn't enough for him.
I sit down on the edge of the ledge ignoring the slight soreness in my ass and crack open another beer. I suck half of it down in no time.
When Ian jumps down off the handle bar, we trade places. He drinks the booze while playing with my switchblade and I do pull ups. I can feel him looking at me while I grunt and pull my body up towards the ceiling.
I know we have just done it but just knowing he has his eyes on me is turning me on again so I release my hold of the bar, land back onto the ground and sit next to him with a smile on my face.
What can I say? I have a high sex drive. Sue me.
"I'm the worst at doing a drunken work out." I say while opening a third can of beer. He continues to work on the second.
"You could read." He suggests. The cocky asshole. I barely attended my last compulsory year at school and that was a year ago.
I. Am. Not. Academic.
"Fuck off." I grab a cigarette and light up. "I'm fucked for life anyway, man."
And not in a good way. I blow smoke in his face and he inhales it.
Ian is smart to change the subject away from my shitty life prospects.
"Want to sneak into the Sox game tomorrow?" He asks.
"Nah, man, I got to get me a job." I suck on the cancer stick again. "If I don't get one in two weeks the probation skank's going to do it for me and I'm going to end up losing a fucking limb at the meat packing plant."
"Maybe she'll find you something better."
"She ain't going to find fuck all."
The reason no one leaves this corner of South Chicago that God forgot is that you get dragged back to Canaryville no matter how much you try to escape. There are no jobs. No opportunities. People like Ian, who think big, wind up getting disappointed.
I say, "My dad even had to threaten this guy from high school to get me this job at Tiles and Groves."
A home depot type place.
He tries to get my cigarette off me but I am stressed out now so slap his hand away.
"Maybe you could head out to Malcolm X. You know. Get some vocational training."
"Why are we talking about community college right now?" I look at him and show him what I think about him idea by burping in his face.
He smiles at my eloquence. "Or I could talk to Linda."
I think of the hijaab wearing co-owner of Kash and Grab. "And work at the place I got shot?"
This idea is worse than the community college one!
"Redemption tale." Ian explains, turning those emerald green eyes on me. The way he looks at me makes me consider his offer. We could hang out if I worked there. I'd get paid to not do much and have sex on tap.
I look at his crotch like a reflex then look back into his eyes.
"What would I be doing?" I ask.
Pun. Intended. I expect him to say 'me' but he doesn't get it.
"Helping." He says. I pass him the cigarette. He takes one long pull, wrapping his mouth around it like he wrapped it around my cock and sucks before giving it back. I can feel and taste the wetness of his spit on the filter end as I take my next hit.
"I ain't cleaning up after people."
"It's a pretty clean store, Mickey." He throws me a lopsided smile.
"What about security?" I fill my lungs with smoke and exhale slowly. "You're not scared about people like me coming into the store trying to steal shit?"
"Stealing has been down since your shooting."
"Do whatever you want, man." I say then, bored of the conversation. "You brought it up."
I take a final drag out of the cigarette and stub it out on the ledge before lighting up a second one.
"Alright." He says and stretches out. "I will."
I finish off the rest of my can of beer while he does the same with his.
Enough chat. Sure I haven't minded talking to him. He's alright. But that is not why I got him out of the house. I am craving a repeat of how he put it on me a few minutes ago. I am getting hard just thinking about it.
So I challenge him,
"Are you ready to go again or do you need some time, fire crotch."
My smile says it all. He smiles back, one hundred percent confident, and pushes me to my feet.
I turn my back to him and, with a lit cigarette wedged firmly between my teeth, I pull my jeans then underwear down again. I hear Ian doing the same behind me. He bends me over and I feel his flat palm on my back and he moves his hand up and down me gathering the fabric of my thin top as he goes.
This time I am standing so stare out onto the field. My arms are crossed over in front of me on the wire fence and I lightly bite into the flesh of my forearm to resist the urge to tell him to hurry the fuck up already and fuck me. He uses both hands to lift my top up. I let him take it off me before settling back into my position. His warm hands are all over me and I feel like telling him to stop with the touching but it feels good so...
"This okay?" He asks. I feel his cock, hard, between my ass cheeks.
I don't answer but my back arches up to his touch.
He begins to lightly gyrate against me, slowly. That feels good too so I relax against him. I am probably still good lube-wise after our first fuck but he hesitates; doesn't get to it. So I say,
"Rubber is in the bag, man." In case that is what he is waiting for.
Ian runs something a little spikey down my neck, back and between the cleft of my buttocks.
He then leans over me to whisper in my ear taping the packet in his hand against my ear lobe. "I got one right here."
Good to know he thinks safety first, too. Must have been in his jeans pocket.
"So what are you waiting for?" I whisper back pushing back onto his pelvis.
His wraps his arms around me and pushes my my back into his chest.
"Nothing." He mumbles quietly and then tears into the condom packet.
I feel him kiss my shoulder.
I shrug him off. What's he doing? Feeling me up and kissing me.
He fumbles while working the rubber over his cock as it rests on my ass.
"It's good to have you back, Mickey." He breathes before standing up straight and sliding in me. "Seriously."
I feel like saying something back. But I don't.
