Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ian had been terrified when he arrived at the Milkovich house at the crack of dawn, intent on getting Kash's gun back. The remains of a drunken rally outside didn't exactly make him less concerned, although it gave him some hope that maybe - just maybe, everyone would be passed out and he could get the gun without a fight. He figured Mickey must have it on him. As he got up the stairs he noticed that the door was open, which made him nervous. There was no telling what he would find in once he went inside so he hesitated at the threshold, swallowing while he reminded himself that a marine-to-be shouldn't be scared while he cast about for something to use as a weapon just in case. He found a tire iron and took it in a firm grip. He didn't want to be unarmed when he knew Mickey was violent, impulsive and had a gun and it was better than nothing. He felt confident he could take Mickey on one-on-one unless he decided to draw, given Ian's own training in hand-to-hand combat with the ROTC.

Ian walked quickly and silently through the house with the tire iron held high, teeth clenched. He saw no one on his way to Mickey's room, pushing it open carefully before withdrawing to listen, heart hammering in his chest. When nothing happened he pushed forward and stepped inside, closing the door as silently as he could. Mickey lay passed out on his bed, belly down, still in yesterday's clothes. Ian couldn't see the gun and wasn't sure Mickey wouldn't wake up if he searched him, so he decided to poke him with the tire iron. Unexpectedly, Mickey woke up right away after a sharp tap on his shoulder.

"What the fuck?" Mickey managed and Ian ploughed on before he could lose his nerve.

"I want the gun back, Mickey," he demanded, holding the tire iron in front of him, ready to spring back and fight should Mickey decide to. Mickey looked back at him in sleepy surprise.

"Gallagher?" he said, sounding as it was the last person he'd expected. Ian couldn't say this surprised him, although he had told Mandy he was expecting the gun back.

"The gun," Ian repeated, hoping to break through Mickey's obviously sleep addled brain. He just wanted out of here. Get the gun, make his merry way. That was all.

"All right, all right," Mickey said, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and Ian blinked, lowering the tire iron slightly. That Mickey wouldn't put up a fight was the last thing he'd expected. Of course, it turned out to be a ruse. The moment Ian let his guard down, just a fraction, Mickey pounced to disarm him. The shock from having his arm twisted and getting struck against the wall sent pain down along Ian's entire spine and made his head reel, letting escape a a muffled cry. Then Mickey was on top of him, a thrill going through him from the body pressing down on him and he couldn't help but smile. He knew he shouldn't enjoy this, but he couldn't help it now that the gun didn't seem to be in Mickey's repertoire. A brawl he could handle. Straddling him, Mickey went down on him and tried to get a grip around his neck but it was too clumsy to hold someone who was in the ROTC. Ian twisted himself off the bed and threw Mickey bodily over him, sending him an arch down on the sofa. It was shockingly easy.

Mickey was on his feet immediately, launching himself at Ian in a useless try to grab him and was thrown off as Ian pushed him into his desk. Items flew everywhere, landing on the floor with a clatter.

Ian spun around, grabbing the tire iron from the bed but was knocked flat on it as Mickey pounced, once more over him, a jolt going through him at the power struggle. He was stronger than Mickey, he was starting to realize that and it gave him a rush of adrenaline. He twisted as Mickey tried to get him to drop the tire iron and then he felt it and froze in his tracks.

Mickey was straddling him again and he was hard. Startled by this realization Ian dropped the tire iron and let Mickey take it from him, staring wide eyed up on Mickey who, for a moment looked triumphant, panting in excitement from the scuffle. Ian glanced down, his own cock answering Mickey's out of his control, then back up on again. There was a flicker of emotion on Mickey's face and Ian knew that Mickey had realized he'd noticed. He dropped the tire iron and straightened up, looking slightly anxious. As Mickey sat back his ass pressed down on Ian's own hard on he froze. Ian swallowed, looking about nervously before his eyes met Mickey's again, half expectant half ready to fight.

Then quite suddenly Mickey tore his tank top off and Ian pushed him off of him, in a hurry to turn this squabble into the sex he'd been starved on the last months since Linda had put an end to his episodes with Kash. He'd had no idea this was where this would land when he'd come here but getting on with Mickey sounded right now like an awesome idea, especially once he got his clothes off because he was hot. Apparently Ian wasn't quick enough for Mickey though, because he found himself being helped off with his clothes before he could do much more than struggle out of his jacket. It seemed Mickey was every bit as eager as he was and didn't want the moment to pass without doing anything about it. Ian couldn't believe his luck and even less so when Mickey dropped his own pants and made clear who he wanted to top.

Ian shoved his hand into the pocket where he kept lube and condoms and threw himself onto the bed where Mickey was positioning himself on his knees, gripping the headboard as he looked over his shoulder.

"Hurry the fuck up," he hissed and Ian complied without a second thought, pushing in with a rewarding groan, one hand on Mickey's back. Once he'd bottomed out, he started that oh so familiar motion, building his pace up as he leaned over Mickey. He snapped his hips with each thrust once he was sure Mickey could take it. From the sounds he was making, he was enjoying himself. Ian grasped the headboard beside Mickey's hands as he pounded him, one hand coming down to find Mickey's dick. It was hot, hard and leaking in his hand and Mickey quickly covered his hand with his, both working him in tight strokes, timed with the deep thrusts. They weren't talking, it wasn't necessary and when they came it was with a shudder of relief rather than a shout.

Ian breathed hard as he pulled out, staring at Mickey's back. He let his hand slide down it, feeling his sweat, his body heaving with every breath. Ian licked his lips, ready to be shoved away now that Mickey had come but he surprised him yet again. Mickey folded to his side and rolled over onto his back, gazing up on Ian with eyes muddled with lust. It made his heart make a funny leap in his chest. Mickey budged to the side, making space for him and Ian pulled the condom off. He tied it and tossed it on the floor beside his clothes and dropped down beside Mickey, sweaty with body tingling with the aftershocks of orgasm.

So this was what sex was like when there was desire involved. It was better than any Ian had ever had, better than anything Kash had been able to give him and those times suddenly felt a lot less appealing. Still a bit on edge that Mickey would shove him out he rolled over on his back and glanced at Mickey, who snorted.

"Let's do that again," he said, giving off a sly grin that Ian couldn't think of as anything but sexy.

"Yeah," he breathed, couldn't agree more. In fact, he could gladly do this every morning from now on given the chance. Heaving a deep breath, Mickey groaned slightly and sat up to pull his red blanket over them. Finally satisfied that he wouldn't suddenly land on the floor Ian relaxed, unable to hold back the smile on his face. It seemed he'd found an unexpected lover when all he'd been looking for was a stolen gun.

Chapter Text

Ian's head had barely hit the bed when yelling was heard outside.

"Fuck, dad!" Mickey breathed only moments before his bedroom door to suddenly opened, Ian just in time to realize that Mickey's father would be really Not Okay with his son getting it off with another guy. Both he and Mickey froze up, ready for a fight as Mickey's dad shuffled past to use the lavatory. None of them dared to move or make a sound, there was a chance that he'd be too out of it to notice anything.

Then, just as he shuffled out he started talking.

"Mandy's making eggs," he called, turning to look at Mickey, only mildly surprised he wasn't alone.

This is where I die, Ian thought wildly. He'll wring my neck or at least give it a good go. He glanced at Mickey who glanced back, seeing thoughts along the same line reflected in his eyes. Mickey looked terrified. To Ian's surprise, though, Mickey's father obviously found the mere thought ludicrous.

"Put some clothes on, you look like a pair of fags," he said then shuffled out again. Ian thought he'd have a heart failure as the door closed and he fell back against the bed, shivering from the suspense. Beside him, Mickey looked uncomfortable, rubbing at his nose.

"You, er, you should probably go," Mickey said, rather awkwardly. "I'll find you at the shop later, yeah?" Ian turned to look at him, but Mickey only glanced rather nervously at him, something unfamiliar and rather vulnerable in his eyes. He nodded slightly, swallowing.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled and sat up. His body felt heavy and tingly post-orgasm but his head was starting to hurt a bit. As he got off the bed Mickey scrambled up from it, too, to get dressed. Ian found himself unsteady on his feet, not really ready get going but given no real choice now that the rest of Mickey's family seemed to be up. He'd just managed to get his pants on and zipped up with hands that were shaking when Mickey dropped something heavy on the bed.

The gun. He'd completely forgotten about it. Ian looked back on Mickey, who gave him that uncertain, vulnerable look again, gaze quickly going from his mouth to somewhere around his belly, rubbing at his mouth nervously. Ian felt sure he wanted something he couldn't get himself to ask for, but guessed he wanted a kiss. Just as he moved in though, Mickey seemed to lose his nerve.

"Kiss me and I'll cut your fucking tongue out," he said, turning around. Frowning in confusion, Ian watched him go. He'd felt so sure Mickey had wanted him to kiss him - and he wanted it, too. They'd just had amazing sex still buzzing through his veins and a kiss before he went was just what he'd hoped for, but it seemed it wouldn't happen. He shrugged slightly and continued getting dressed, alone. The whole room smelled of Mickey with an undertone of sex that he was amazed Mickey's father hadn't picked up on.

Fully clothed, Ian stuck the gun in his waistband and drew a deep breath to try to steady his hand and get the trembling out of his knees to step out, hopefully drawing no attention to himself. Unfortunately he had no such luck. He saw no one as he got out the bedroom door and silently stepped out - but somebody saw him.

"Ian?" he stopped and glanced over his shoulder to see Mandy. "What are you doing here?" she asked, grabbing his jacket to pull him out of line of sight from the kitchen table. "I told you to forget about it," she started, then really looked at him. Apparently his headache and the stinging that had started at his temple must be visible, because she grimaced. "Shit. are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed. Was he okay? Ian nearly laughed. He was till post-orgasm hazy and felt amazing - but he couldn't tell her that. At least not that he'd just fucked her brother. Realizing he must have had a pretty weird smile, he added "I'm good," hoping he sounded a bit less affected. Wanting to deflect her attention from how dazed he felt he must look, he pulled up his t-shirt to show her the gun. It seemed to work, because she smiled broadly. Taking that as his cue, he gave her a small smile and took off, slinking around the corner and out of sight.

As he got outside, Ian couldn't help but let that silly grin take over and he laughed as he walked, feeling happier and more content than he'd been in a long time.