When Mickey's brother says "going to Angie's", Terry just grunts from the couch to suggest "what the fuck do I care?". Joey already has one foot out the door when Terry says "Wait. Take him with you and get him laid." Mickey turns from his game of Grand Theft Auto wearing a venomous sneer. If he was a little more brave, or stupid, he would have punched Terry straight in the balls. "Fucking fourteen years old and all he does is sit around the house like some faggot."

Angie's place is small, but nice enough from the outside. The paint isn't peeling and there aren't any broken windows or car parts in the yard, which was more than he can fucking say for his own house. Joey bangs his fist against the door like a real asshole, the kind of knock you use when some fucker owes you money and you know his ass is home so he better just open the goddamn door and stop wasting your time. Angie doesn't seem fazed, though. "Hey Joey. Ready to party?" What kind of fucking greeting is that? Jesus. Her t-shirt has the collar cut off so it's falling down her shoulders and her voice is weirdly child-like for a fifteen year old. Joey looks like he's going to cream his jeans right there in the doorway. Fuck. This.

Mickey considers turning and just taking off, because it's not like Joey is going to forfeit his raging hard-on to chase after him. He rocks up on the balls of his feet, ready to fucking jet when she says "Here." and tosses him a beer. By the time his eyes register her, then the can, and then look up again, she is leading Joey upstairs without another word.

He finishes that beer, and then one more, trying to drown out the sounds Joey is making from upstairs. It sounds like a fucking gorilla is giving birth and it's doing his goddamn head in. To make the experience even more excruciating, there is nothing on TV, Angie doesn't have any video games, and there is fuck all to eat in her house, not that she had invited him to make himself dinner. He flicks open his switchblade idly, again weighing the consequences of taking off. When he finally concludes that this is the stupidest goddamn way to spend a Friday night and his dad can just fuck right off and he's just going to drink as much of Angie's beer as possible, Joey punches him in the shoulder. "Your turn."

Ugh.

He is definitely going to need at least two more beers. The top of the can cracks and fizzles, beer spilling down his wrist. He licks a line from his forearm to his fingertips, desperately trying to sop up as much as alcohol as possible.

She closes her bedroom door behind him quietly, the room dark except for a small night light and the glow of her alarm clock. The smell. Fuck. It is like someone is holding his head down in a vat of dollar-store vanilla body spray and Joey's ballsweat. He tips the rest of the beer back in one steady chug, as if it is going to help.

Her hand pats the bed beside her. "Wanna get it in?"

Mickey inhales sharply, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Uh… not really though."

She takes the other beer from him and lets out a little laugh. "Joey drag you here?"

He shrugs in the dark. "I guess." She doesn't say anything for a minute and he feels like the world's biggest asshole. Just awkward and weird and like he might punch something or yell "fuck off!" because he didn't even want to be here in the first place.

"We can just chill until he passes out, then. Doesn't usually take long." She taps the top of the can lightly, illuminated by the glow of 9:53 on the clock. In one smooth motion her teeth pull the tab up, it punctures the can, she pushes the tab flat with her tongue and catches each drop of fizz in her mouth before it can roll down her arms.

He lets out a big breath that he didn't even realize he'd been holding in. "Hah, I know, right? He's a lazy motherfucker." Her bed creaks as he sits next to her and she nudges the cold can back to his hands. "This whole place smells like Joey's asscrack now, Christ." He can feel the corners of her mouth turning up at him in the dark as the rest of the alcohol sloshes down his throat, landing in a warm pile somewhere below his ribs. "How do you even fucking stand it?"

"Eh, I've been with worse."

An awkward silence hangs between them, his body finally cutting through it as he leans over her to put the empty cans on her bedside table. She catches him on the way back across, just as his ass is about to settle back in to the mattress. The kiss feels wet with beer and sticky with lip gloss, and it is not at all like the hungry, slobbering kisses on those soap operas Mandy is always fucking watching. In elementary school he had tackled a few girls on the playground and kissed them until they gagged, but no girl had ever willingly kissed him – or probably any of the Milkoviches, to be honest.

Angie's hand pats him on the leg, and he senses her body shift, like she might stand up. His arms lunge out in the darkness, on their own accord - just grabbing at whatever they can get a hold on. A flash of relief crosses his mind when he realizes he has a hold of her shoulders and didn't just honk a tit or something. Before his brain can consider what is going to happen next or further congratulate him on not acting like a weird rookie, his mouth is kissing her back.

They fumble in the dark for a long time, maybe it's only five minutes. Seems like a year, though. Angie sucks a necklace of hickeys around his collar and slides her hands all over him, but he still struggles to get hard. Mickey has never apologized to anyone in his life, usually doesn't see the point and when he does his mouth just won't form the words. This is one of those rare times. He wants to say he's sorry and he doesn't know why.

"Some guys don't know what to do with a big girl." She whispers. "Aren't used to all the awesome cushion." His eyes finally focus enough that he can see her eyes smiling back at him. "But this always works." Her face quickly vanishes from his view and she doesn't waste any time by planting romantic kisses down his body on her journey south, like they do in the movies.

But she is right. It works.

They have the condom situated and Mickey is less than 60 seconds in to losing his virginity when Joey pounds on the door so hard that they both sit straight up. "Did you two assfaces fall asleep in there?"

"Fuck off!" Mickey shouts over the steady thrum of Joey's fists.

"I brought you here to get fucked. If you're done then it's my fucking turn again!"

Angie hops up and eases the door open a crack. "We're NOT done, you fuckhead. Your brother lasts longer than two pumps, unlike you. Feel free to fuck off if you don't want to wait."