Mickey was finally free. The first person he saw when he walked out the door, was Ian fucking Gallagher, standing next to Mandy.
Mickey knew that Mandy was coming to "pick him up" He hadn't expected Ian to come with her, not that he didn't want to see him, he just didn't expect it.
He asked what Ian was doing there, the red-head told him he had to "protect" Mandy.
Mickey laughed, and made a joke about how Mandy could handle herself, a fact that Mickey took pride in-because he had taught Mandy how to protect herself.
Mickey twisted Mandy's nipple, making her squeel. They had a-strange relationship, they were overly close, but that was expected, Mickey had been taking care of Mandy since he was four.
"What did dad tell you?"
"Fuck the police?" He finally let go.
"No more titty-twisters now that I'm a c-cup." Mickey snorted.
"C-cup? Bitch you wish." Mandy glared at him, but Mickey knew she wasn't really mad at him.
Mickey started yelling at all the guards, "Fuck you, fuck you, and especially fuck you." Ian put his hand on Mickey's shoulder, and told him to go.
Mickey of course listened, he told himself that it wasn't because Ian told him to, he told himself that he only went so he could get as far away from that fucking building as possible.
As the three walked away Ian put his arm around Mickey's shoulders, Mickey couldn't have that happen, he shrugged Ian's arm off of him.
When they got close the the Milkovich house, Ian said goodbye and headed the other way, toward the Kash and Grab, he had to work.
When they entered the house, the familar smell of stale cigarettes and cheap beer damn near overwhelmed Mickey, for the last year he had been smelling-prison.
Mandy made a b-line for her room, while Mickey headed for his.
As soon as he was inside, and the door was shut, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes he had hidden between his mattress and the wall; couldn't risk his brothers or Terry stealing them.
He hadn't had a proper smoke in a fucking year. He chain smoked half the pack, before he actually realized what he was doing.
Mickey didn't know what to do, he had just wasted a half hour chain smoking, Ian was at work so he couldn't go get fucked, Terry was passed out on the couch so playing xbox wasn't an option either.
Mickey wanted to fucking do something, he just didn't know what.
As Mickey tried to figure out what to do, he fell asleep.
When Mickey woke up, it was just starting to get dark outside.
Mickey groaned after realizing that he had slept, instead of doing anything.
He found his cellphone and checked the time, it was nearly nine, Ian got off work at nine.
Mickey decided to head to the Kash and Grab.
He'd-surprise Ian.
As he went to leave the room, he realized he was still in the clothes he had been when he left juvie, the same clothes he had been in when he was transfered from the hospital unit to the cell block.
He was going to change, but thought fuck it. He didn't give a shit about wearing dirty clothes, and Ian knew he wasn't a-clean person. Mickey didn't like taking showers, it was just faster to not; but because of that he alwayshad a visable layer of dirt on him, and his clothes were frequently stained or coated in sticky usually unrecognizable substances.
Mickey made sure his cigarettes, buttterfly knife and phone were in his pocket, and he left.
By the time he reached the Kash and Grab it was five minutes to nine.
The store was completely empty save Ian.
"What're you doin' here?" Ias smirked at Mickey, who said nothing, just smirked back.
Mickey walked toward the cooler, he grabbed a couple beers.
Ian locked up the store, shut the lights off and Mickey followed him out the back. They paused for a moment, Ian locked the back door.
"Where we headed?" Mickey shook his head.
"Follow me."
He lead Ian to the dugout, the same baseball field where he had pissed on first base.
They talked for a bit, Mickey got bored quick, they shotgunned a beer together, Ian dribbled a bit more than he did.
Ian kept fucking talking though.
"You wanna chit-chat or you wanna get on me?" Ian stopped talking imediately.
And in seconds they were fucking. Mickey didn't need any prep, Ian just slid into him.
Mickey gritted his teeth, and tried not to cry out. It was so hard not to, Ian pounding into him felt so fucking good. He grunted a bit. Ian was moaning quite a bit, kid sounded like he was already about to cum.
Ian had never been this fast, kid must not have gotten laid while Mickey was locked up. But that was absurd, surely Ian had fucked someone. Mickey could feel Ian beginning to release inside of him, and that was the end, Mickey came all over the wall of the dugout.
Fuck, kid must not have gotten laid, he came like a fucking virgin, but then again so did Mickey.
"AHH! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THAT HERE!"
Mickey cracked open another beer, chugged about half of it then began to take short sips, he wanted it to last.
It was mentioned that Mickey had pissed on first base, Mickey wasn't even sure if Ian remembered that, but he certainly did. He told Mickey how he had been on second. Mickey smirked, Mickey had remembered where Ian was that day, he remembered everything that he had ever done that involved Ian.
Ian was being a fucking show off, doing fucking pull ups. Mickey couldn't let Ian be better than him.
As soon as Ian hopped down, Mickey hopped up and started doing then, just as fast and easily as Ian had been.
Ian showed a look of shock, Mickey hopped down and lit a cigarette, which Ian tried to steal.
"Nothing to do in the joint except work out." Ian was playing with his butterfly knife, flipping it open and closed, something Mickey used to do constantly, but something about the way Ian did it was-sexy.
Ian started talking again, Mickey wasn't exactly paying attention, something about sneaking into a baseball game or some-fucking-thing.
"Can't. Gotta get a job." Mickey went on about how he had to do it, as part of his probation, if he didn't he'd be sent back to juvie. Mickey didn't particularly want to go there, again.
Ian suggested that he get a job at the Kash and Grab. Was the kid fucking insane? Get a job where he was shot at.
He said so, Ian said it might be a good idea.
"How about security? Ya know, making sure guys like me don't rob the place."
Ian started talking again, Mickey wasn't paying attention, he was getting hard again.
"You..uh wanna go again firecrotch? Or do you need some time?" Mickey had barely finished his sentence when Ian pushed him so he was bent over.
Neither came quite as fast the second time, but they definitely didn't last as long as they normally did.
By the time Mickey got home it was one, everyone was asleep, or in Terry and Tony's cases passed out.
Mickey went into his room, he wasn't fucking tired but he layed on the bed anyway.
He could still feel Ian's cock inside of him, he still felt full. There was a dull ache as well, but it wasn't uncomfortable, not at all. In fact, it was making him hard again.
Mickey pushed himself up off the bed, emptyied his jean pockets and changed into some relatively clean sweats.
His cock was already straining against the material of his boxers, but Mickey ignored it, he was far to lazy to jerk off, especially after being fucked by Ian four fucking times.
Mickey groaned and laid down again.
He stared at the ceiling for awhile, until the naked bitches tits were making him sick.
He flipped onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.
Despite not being tired, he was asleep within minutes.
Note to readers- I know I got the "Dugout Dialouge" and a few small "Dugout Details" incorrect but whatever, it's-close. Let me know what you thought. -JJ