Chapter 1 – No repeats
Disclaimer – I own nothing that belongs to Shameless, all I got is the stuff I make up to amuse myself and others like me.
Ian didn’t know what he was going to do; all he knew was that he had to get the gun back from Mickey. Linda was threatening to go to the cops and he shuddered to think what would happen if she did that. Everyone in the neighborhood gave the Milkovich family a pass when they did things. If you went to the cops about one of them, sure that one might go to jail for a little while, but it was guaranteed to be a short lived victory.
Not to mention Mickey’s dad Terry had gotten out of prison the day before and he already hated Kash, he didn’t need to be given another reason to do harm to him. No way around it, it would be Kash they hurt. They didn’t have many rules but one of the few they did live by was no harming children under fourteen, unless the Milkovich doing the harm was under fourteen to, and since Linda was hardly ever in the store, when they’d go looking Kash would be the one they’d find.
By the time he reached the house he was out of breathe and still no closer to a plan than he’d been when he first stepped out of the store. The empty cups and burned patches on the front lawn told him that Terry had made it home the night before. Running up the steps he looked around for some sort of weapon, knowing he’d be able to find one fairly easily. Spotting the crowbar he took a moment to brace himself before he quickly and quietly opened the front door.
Slowly he made his way inside finding Terry passed out on the couch in nothing but his boxers, a sight he could have gone his entire life without, and no sign of anyone else. Assuming Mickey was in his room he cautiously made his way, knowing that if the elder Milkovich woke to find him creeping around his home with a weapon in hand he would likely die surrounded by empty beer cans and dirty laundry. The sign on Mickey’s door read Stay The Fuck Out and oh if only he could. Opening the door slightly he slipped inside to find Mickey face down on the bed. Closing the door behind him he stood for a moment gathering his courage before he tapped his back, lightly, with his weapon, which he now thought was a poor choice of defense. He watched as Mickey lifted his head grunting at being disturbed before glancing over his shoulder.
“I want the gun Mickey!” Best to start forceful.
“Gallagher?” He heard the surprise in his voice and didn’t really know how to respond. When in doubt just repeat yourself, that’s what his sister did.
“I want Kash’s gun back now!” See still forceful.
“Alright, alright.” He couldn’t believe it was that easy as he watched Mickey reach for the drawer at the side of his bed he leaned in slightly to make sure the gun was really there. Big mistake.
When Mickey had felt the poke on his back he’d expected it would be one of his stupid brothers. Instead when he looked he found that fuckwit Ian Gallagher standing over him holding a crowbar making demands. That stupid shit actually thought he could come into his house, into his room, and just take something from him. Like hell! He made a move to open the drawer closest to him acting like he was just gonna give in and he waited for his opening. He didn’t have to wait long, the fucker really was stupid. He waited until he was close enough before he came up off the bed using his momentum to throw him against the wall hard enough that when he hit the bed he was stunned for a moment.
Knowing how easily even a seconds hesitation could turn a fight against you he jumped on him. He grabbed the gingers arm and slammed it against the same wall he’d thrown him into just moments before; hard enough to make him open his hand and drop the crowbar. Surprisingly, he didn’t just lay there and take it like a girl, he found himself being thrown back a step. Gallagher jumped up following him forcefully grabbing both his arms and throwing him across the room into his dresser with an impressive show of strength. Then he watched him make another mistake, his last. Instead of continuing the fight one on one or even running for the door he turned back and tried to reach across the bed for the crowbar.
He scrambled to get there first, crawling on top of the little bastard he put him in a chokehold while he reached up and finally felt his fingers meet cold metal. Clutching it in an iron grip he sat up slightly, flipping the red head over in the process. Now his knees were on either side of his head and he was sitting on Gallagher’s chest effectively pinning his upper arms making it impossible for him to do more than put his hands weakly in front of his face. He drew his arm back prepared to beat him within an inch of his pathetic life with the “weapon” he’d threatened him with, but looking down at his face he stopped.
The fight had gotten his blood pumping and now looking down at the little ginger he had pinned under him on his bed he wanted to get his blood going in another way. At first he was just going to use that need to add to the beating, but then he saw the spark of interest flare in the fuckers eyes. Who knew.
Dropping the crowbar off the side of the bed he moved back a little as he started to pull his shirt off feeling firecrotch shift under him to do the same. Looking up he found himself staring at a pale creamy muscular chest. Gallagher was toned who knew.
Ian had been stunned when Mickey started yanking his clothes off but that didn’t last long. He told himself he was doing this because it was either get fucked or get beat. That lie lasted until he saw Mickey without his shirt. Under all the dirt and grime was one hell of a body. He felt his heart begin to race in a way it never had before, not for Kash, hell not even for Rodger Spikey. Donkey dick Roger Spikey had just been a onetime thing, his first time, and sort of an experiment. While he was packed he hadn’t really been much to look at. Kash had started on accident and had really been kept up for convenience. He cared about him, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t, but he always knew his married older boss was only ever going to be a passing thing, so like Spikey the fact that he was a little bit on the pudgy side didn’t really bother him.
Mickey was the first guy he’d ever been with who was able to make him hot with just the sight of his bare chest. By the time they both had all their clothes off he found himself face down on the mattress, he supposed he’d known from the second they’d started this that he was going to be topped for the first time. Mickey wasn’t really the type to give up control of any situation he doubted sex would be any different.
He felt Mickey’s weight leave him for a moment, before he could turn to find out why he was back and he heard the crinkle of a wrapper. A condom. For some reason he hadn’t really expected that from Mickey. A few moments later he felt his hips being held in a tight grip as Mickey pulled him up onto his hands and knees. Slightly worried now he tried to protest.
“Mickey I’ve never…” He was cut off by Mickey’s light chuckle of amusement.
“Shut up Gallagher.”
He figured that was a good idea, pissing off the neighborhood psycho while he was on top of you… not the best idea. Closing his eyes he tried to relax and trust Mickey. There was a thought he never thought he’d ever have racing across his mind.
Mickey watched Gallagher close his eyes and force every muscle in his body to relax. The idea that Gallagher was a top was actually kind of funny. The little twit never really demonstrated much in the way of dominance. What kind of weak fucks did he go for? Why was he wasting time thinking about this? He needed to speed this up but for some reason knowing he would be the only one to ever have been in his tight ass made his shake with anticipation and want to draw it out. To hell with that! Though since he would be popping the little bastards cherry he supposed he could prepare him a little.
Moving one hand from the little twats hip he slowly slipped one finger into his tight ass. He felt him tense for a minute before again forcing himself to go boneless. Good boy. The second finger went in much easier, when he began to scissor them to help stretch him a bit to get him ready for the main event he couldn’t help but smile at the sound he heard escape the little pricks mouth. Damn a few fingers and he was moaning like a bitch, he couldn’t wait to hear what sounds he made next. The thought had just entered his mind when he viciously shut it down. Pulling his hand free he lined himself up before leaning over his back until his mouth was next to his ear.
“One sound out of you and I will beat you to death.”
A little pressure and he felt heaven its self. Gallagher was… fuck he was so tight. When he was finally all the way in he stopped for a second holding still. More for his pleasure then Gallaghers comfort, he’d never felt like this before. After a minute of savoring the feel of being held tight he began to move. Slowly at first, but he couldn’t hold back for very long before his thrusts grew faster and harder. Gallagher was doing good to, after the first thrust he buried his head in the pillow to muffle to moans he couldn’t hold back. One final hard thrust and he was coming harder than he ever had before. Fuck!
Ian couldn’t even scream his release he didn’t have enough air left in his starved lungs. God he felt boneless, Mickey rolled off of him almost instantly leaving him feeling a little unsatisfied for some reason. When his clothes were tossed at him he took the hint, he’d just finished getting dressed and was reaching for his jacket when Terry came storming through to get to the bathroom. Mickey must of heard something he hadn’t and he could only be grateful for it, the last thing he needed was to have to deal with an enraged, homophobic, Terry Milkovich.
Mickey who hadn’t bothered with a shirt, just pants leaving his chest on display, went to the dresser after his dad left again and turned back to hand him Kash’s gun without a word before heading to the bathroom himself. Knowing he’d been dismissed he tucked the gun away before making his way out of the house. On the way back to the Kash-n-Grab he couldn’t help but feel a little dirty, like a whore. At least he knew it wouldn’t happen again. Guys like Mickey never did repeats.