cuz i was busy the last half hour tryin 2 get ur useless fuck sack old man off my goddamn roof w out ending up w Gallagher brain matter splattered all over my porch ur fuckin welcome btw hes in the house now, mandy's watchin him w a taser while im on pants detail
yeah, yeah. you know what's not funny? you. ever. don't leave him with mandy, for christs sake mickey. is he awake? stop looking for his pants, i'll bring lip with me to take him home.
im a whole bucket of giggles here gallagher mandys fine she'll have a foot shoved up his ass b4 he can try ne thing far as i know he is left him that way yea bring the posse 2 collect b4 he starts lookin for shit to hock in my place
[Everyone takes turns with Frank. Tonight, though, Lip's around so why not take advantage.]
throw him outside, mickey. we're around the corner.
[After parking the car, he hands Lip the keys and thanks him for taking Frank home. Alone. Cause he's staying over. It's the first his brother's heard of it, but fortunately, he doesn't make a big fucking deal about it, thank god.]
[ they will drive up to frank gallagher, clad only in his boxers, hands still cuffed behind his back, getting a boot to the ass from mickey milkovich, as he holds his cigarette in one hand, and a half gone bottle of russian vodka in the other.
lifting the cigarette hand, he points a finger through the car window at ian, from his place on the porch steps, then turns it, crocking the finger in a little 'come here now' gesture. ]
[It's been too fucking long since he's seen Mickey.
Yesterday, sometime, he thinks, but things like hours and minutes don't matter much when it comes to the two of them. Mickey makes him feel like nobody else ever has and he's not so sure anyone else ever will. Ian helps Lip shove Frank into the car, pats his brother's back, and smiles while walking backwards towards the house. His shoulders are up around his ears and his hands in his pockets as if to say, he's got people to see and things to do or people to do and things to see. Same difference, Lip; thanks and all that.
He turns back around as the car speeds off, taking the steps two at a time and immediately crowding into Mickey's space. He smells like cigarettes and vodka and himself - his hands come up to Mickey's chest as he pins him to the doorjamb with his hips.]
I missed you.
[Yeah, yeah. Saw him less than twenty four hours ago.]
[ mickey's still raise a farewell finger to flip frank off through the window of the car as it speeds off, when ian turns around, dropping it back to his side when his eyes turn to the redhead, lazy smirk pulling at his lips. ian's forwardness is hardly anything new, and that smirk becomes a grin around his cigarette, as he lets ian walk him back against the door frame. ]
Yeah? [ mickey murmurs, hips pressing back part to be argumentative, but mostly to feel more of ian and the addictive heat his body radiates.
a hand pulls the cigarette free, leaning in to inhale a slow stream of smoke, shotgunning in from his lips to ian's, pulling back to place the stick between ian's full, pretty lips instead. ]
How 'bout you come show me how much. [ svetlana and yvegeny are out, mandy's otherwise occupied, the house is all theirs, and mickey's foot kicks at the edge of the door, swinging it open. ]
[If Ian could get away with it, he'd drop to his knees and blow Mickey right here for all of south side to see, but that's just asking for trouble neither of them really need. This was already risky enough. Besides, couple steps to the right and he could do the same thing - it's not what he's in the mood for though. They always go fast. Fuck and go on, fuck and cuddle a little. Ian's been having trouble sleeping and he's feeling like going slow, keeping Mickey up with him.
He inhales and presses his lips together to keep the cigarette from falling. That's all it takes. Something as simple as Mickey blowing smoke into his mouth and he's ready to go. It's sexy. Almost as hot as the way he'd canted his hips forward, bumping their bodies together in an contentious way. Curling his fingers into Mickey's tanktop, Ian yanks him inside and towards the couch walking backwards.]
Christ, Mickey. I want you so bad.
[He shoves the cigarette into an empty can on the table and drops back on the couch, taking Mickey with him.]
[The kitchen floor doesn't sound good and he's not sure what he'll be walking into, but Ian's probably walked in on worse. He snags some weed from Lip and makes his way over to the Milkovich residence, hoping not to find the worst, but always expecting it anyway. Just in case]
[ on the floor. as promised. he isn't in any need of hospitalization, thankfully, but he is very well wasted, with some bruises and cuts on his face, and no one else in the house otherwise. our typical mickey milkovich bender. ]
[ He's cautious as he enters the house, but he's been here a hundred times before and knows his way around in the quietest of ways. He heads to the kitchen, letting out a soft curse when he sees Mickey on the floor, his face looking beat up. ]
Mickey.
[He should probably approach slower, seeing as Mickey is high, but Ian doesn't have it in him not to drop down next to him right away, turning him onto his back so he can get a better view of him]
[ ian's hand squeezing at his ass has mickey pushing up on his toes, like he's about to actually, literally climb this fool. instead, the hands that were pretty leisurely tugging at his jeans are now ripping at them, thumbs shoving at the waistband to try to get them off ian's hips without having to worry about the button and zipper and all. it only about halfway works, but mickey manages it, the thud of ian's belt buckle hitting the bedroom floor shortly after. ]
You breaking shit to get to me? [ mickey smirks, between flopping back onto the bed and dragging at ian to follow him. ] Like hell I'd be complaining.
[ it's hot. any time ian starts breaking shit and being a fucking delinquent, mickey loves it. no one gets intense like ian gets intense. back then, mickey knew he had way more guts than anyone else on the southside, but on top of that, he's compassionate and smart and funny and so many other things he loves being around. it's too much for him to ever say no to. ]
[Ian happily allows himself to be dragged onto the bed, licking his lips as he looks over Mickey's face below him. Jesus he loved this. He'd been so happy for Mickey to finally come out, even if it probably meant a bruised rib or two, and now somehow here they were in nightmare land. Together. Nothing ever went quite to plan with them, but somehow it always seemed to work out.
He runs his fingers through Mickey's hair.]
Are you trying to tell me you want it rougher?
[He reaches his hand between their legs, palming Mickey's dick.]
Because if you don't have some lube around here, it's about to be.
You really think I made it through a month without thinking about you inside me?
[ and thus needing lube to jack off at the thought of it, because of course that's the natural progression here. but give him a second to enough ian's hand on his cock again, mickey's thighs spreading and hips rolling up against his palm. ian knows exactly what he likes, and god, he just feels spoiled in moments like these. reaching up, mickey's hand slaps around on the bedside table for a moment before finding the handle for the drawer and tugging it out. ]
Flattered, but wrong.
[ when his hand comes back, it'll be holding a tube of lube that's pressed against ian's chest before mickey drags him back down into another kiss, body arching up against his. go to town, dear. ]
Never said that. Hope you thought about me every day.
[ He takes the lube from Mickey's hand, letting himself imagine exactly what Mickey meant by that. Wishing he could have seen it. He flips the cap on the bottle, squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers and tossing it aside. He drags his hands down to his own already hard dick, gasping against Mickey's lips as the cool liquid hits his skin. He makes sure to press a couple wet fingers into Mickey's ass, more for teasing then for necessity. They'd fucked with much less preamble than this.
He takes a hold of Mickey's thigh, urging him to turn over while pressing a kiss to his neck.]
Every fuckin— [ mickey's voice hitches when ian slips a couple wet fingers inside him, back arching and hips rolling against his hand, groan lost somewhere low in his throat as he breathes out the last word: ] day.
[ ian doesn't need to tell him twice, and it only takes the first nudge before mickey's turning onto his stomach, fingers curling in the comforter on top of his mattress, hips canting up for ease of use. his cheek presses against the blanket, lips curling in a wide smile as he feels ian kissing along the back of his neck, shivers and sweet shocks dancing up his spine. ]
Or I could show you. Later. Tomorrow, maybe.
[ today, he is busy. busy pushing back against the weight of ian's hips, feeling his cock slot between his cheeks and grinding back against him. ]
[Jesus there's nothing in the world quite like knowing how bad Mickey Milkovich wants him, needs him, as he pushes back against him. Ian's drunk with it, rubbing his dick against Mickey's ass and kissing at the back of his neck, sucking with teeth as he finally pushes in. No unnecessary lead up as he groans thick and low. They'd never been ones to ease in, after all. Ian grins against Mickey's neck - he needs him exactly as bad.]
You're so fucking tight... you sure you've been thinking about me every day?
[ his fingers curl into tight fists as ian pushes in, and mickey's biting down into his lower lip as he feels his boyfriend's cock spread his body, the familiar sting of pain that he loves there, a tint deeper with the time he's been without him. a moan goes muffled into the comforter while he feels ian's voice rumble low in his chest, against his back. ]
I know it might be a shock— [ a shift of ian's hips and mickey's breathing hitches, sharp inhale interrupting him as his body shudders around ian. god, he's missed this. a month is too fucking long. ] But my fingers are a little smaller than your dick.
[ especially considering ian has the most incredible cock mickey's ever seen, but maybe he's a bit biased. ]
[Ian's laugh comes out more as low rumble as he moves into Mickey, pushing deep and slow before reaching his arm around to take a hold of his dick. He's high on the feeling of Mickey pressing back into him, the feeling of his body reacting to the intrusion, how rock hard he is in his hand. He strokes a few times as he drives into him, wanting to drive Mickey crazy with the stimulation.]
[ he loves feeling ian around him like that, his weight pressing him into the mattress, his arms on either side framing him in, his lips against the back of his neck. this is heaven for mickey, and when ian takes his cock in hand and starts to stroke, the rock of his hips pushing him into the rhythm of it, mickey's seeing stars behind his eyelids, lips parting with a low groan. ]
It's time for you to shut up about my fingers and fuck me. [ because he can't keep track of actual conversation right now anyway, just the steady pulse of ian's dick moving deep inside him. ] Christ, Ian, I missed you.
[ mickey reaches a hand up, gripping onto whatever he can find - ian's arm, his bicep, a shoulder, hell, he'll curl his fingers into his hair if he's ducked down low enough - and his thigh spread, knees bracing against the mattress until he has enough leverage to push back and meet each thrust into him. ]
TFLN
2.] I brought him cheeseburgers and tequila but he's still mad at me.
3.] I'm making a will, in it I'm leaving you my skull.
4.] im in DESPERATE NEED OF A COMPANION RIGHT NOW I’M MOTHER FUCKING TRIPPING SOLID GOLD BALLS
5.] Fortunatly we found him, he was on my roof. Unfortunatly, we can't say the same for his pants. Still looking. BRB.
5
been all over the damn place looking for him
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ur fuckin welcome btw
hes in the house now, mandy's watchin him w a taser while im on pants detail
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you know what's not funny? you. ever.
don't leave him with mandy, for christs sake mickey.
is he awake? stop looking for his pants, i'll bring lip with me to take him home.
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mandys fine she'll have a foot shoved up his ass b4 he can try ne thing
far as i know he is
left him that way
yea bring the posse 2 collect b4 he starts lookin for shit to hock in my place
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no 15. don't tell him we're coming. might run off if you do.
[Ian's not in the mood to keep chasing Frank around all night.]
im staying over.
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i cuffed him 2 the radiator
yea? good. lip can take old man drunky home.
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throw him outside, mickey. we're around the corner.
[After parking the car, he hands Lip the keys and thanks him for taking Frank home. Alone. Cause he's staying over. It's the first his brother's heard of it, but fortunately, he doesn't make a big fucking deal about it, thank god.]
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[ they will drive up to frank gallagher, clad only in his boxers, hands still cuffed behind his back, getting a boot to the ass from mickey milkovich, as he holds his cigarette in one hand, and a half gone bottle of russian vodka in the other.
lifting the cigarette hand, he points a finger through the car window at ian, from his place on the porch steps, then turns it, crocking the finger in a little 'come here now' gesture. ]
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Yesterday, sometime, he thinks, but things like hours and minutes don't matter much when it comes to the two of them. Mickey makes him feel like nobody else ever has and he's not so sure anyone else ever will. Ian helps Lip shove Frank into the car, pats his brother's back, and smiles while walking backwards towards the house. His shoulders are up around his ears and his hands in his pockets as if to say, he's got people to see and things to do or people to do and things to see. Same difference, Lip; thanks and all that.
He turns back around as the car speeds off, taking the steps two at a time and immediately crowding into Mickey's space. He smells like cigarettes and vodka and himself - his hands come up to Mickey's chest as he pins him to the doorjamb with his hips.]
I missed you.
[Yeah, yeah. Saw him less than twenty four hours ago.]
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Yeah? [ mickey murmurs, hips pressing back part to be argumentative, but mostly to feel more of ian and the addictive heat his body radiates.
a hand pulls the cigarette free, leaning in to inhale a slow stream of smoke, shotgunning in from his lips to ian's, pulling back to place the stick between ian's full, pretty lips instead. ]
How 'bout you come show me how much. [ svetlana and yvegeny are out, mandy's otherwise occupied, the house is all theirs, and mickey's foot kicks at the edge of the door, swinging it open. ]
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He inhales and presses his lips together to keep the cigarette from falling. That's all it takes. Something as simple as Mickey blowing smoke into his mouth and he's ready to go. It's sexy. Almost as hot as the way he'd canted his hips forward, bumping their bodies together in an contentious way. Curling his fingers into Mickey's tanktop, Ian yanks him inside and towards the couch walking backwards.]
Christ, Mickey. I want you so bad.
[He shoves the cigarette into an empty can on the table and drops back on the couch, taking Mickey with him.]
4
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dude i thnk the wall papers crawling
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srsly im not sure
readinng is rlyt hard rn
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where are you?
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doors unlokked
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alright. i'll be there in ten minutes.
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doint trip
ps bring weed
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I'm on it.
[The kitchen floor doesn't sound good and he's not sure what he'll be walking into, but Ian's probably walked in on worse. He snags some weed from Lip and makes his way over to the Milkovich residence, hoping not to find the worst, but always expecting it anyway. Just in case]
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ill b here
[ on the floor. as promised. he isn't in any need of hospitalization, thankfully, but he is very well wasted, with some bruises and cuts on his face, and no one else in the house otherwise. our typical mickey milkovich bender. ]
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Mickey.
[He should probably approach slower, seeing as Mickey is high, but Ian doesn't have it in him not to drop down next to him right away, turning him onto his back so he can get a better view of him]
Christ, Mick. What the fuck happened?
4
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hurry ur ass up if u want sum
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Fine, don't fucking lose it while I'm getting there. I got to get the keys.
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[ this is literally how mickey talks to everyone, boyfriend included ]
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continued from: https://soddersays.dreamwidth.org/36013.html?thread=9636525#cmt9636525
You breaking shit to get to me? [ mickey smirks, between flopping back onto the bed and dragging at ian to follow him. ] Like hell I'd be complaining.
[ it's hot. any time ian starts breaking shit and being a fucking delinquent, mickey loves it. no one gets intense like ian gets intense. back then, mickey knew he had way more guts than anyone else on the southside, but on top of that, he's compassionate and smart and funny and so many other things he loves being around. it's too much for him to ever say no to. ]
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He runs his fingers through Mickey's hair.]
Are you trying to tell me you want it rougher?
[He reaches his hand between their legs, palming Mickey's dick.]
Because if you don't have some lube around here, it's about to be.
oh CW: NSFW btw lololol
[ and thus needing lube to jack off at the thought of it, because of course that's the natural progression here. but give him a second to enough ian's hand on his cock again, mickey's thighs spreading and hips rolling up against his palm. ian knows exactly what he likes, and god, he just feels spoiled in moments like these. reaching up, mickey's hand slaps around on the bedside table for a moment before finding the handle for the drawer and tugging it out. ]
Flattered, but wrong.
[ when his hand comes back, it'll be holding a tube of lube that's pressed against ian's chest before mickey drags him back down into another kiss, body arching up against his. go to town, dear. ]
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[ He takes the lube from Mickey's hand, letting himself imagine exactly what Mickey meant by that. Wishing he could have seen it. He flips the cap on the bottle, squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers and tossing it aside. He drags his hands down to his own already hard dick, gasping against Mickey's lips as the cool liquid hits his skin. He makes sure to press a couple wet fingers into Mickey's ass, more for teasing then for necessity. They'd fucked with much less preamble than this.
He takes a hold of Mickey's thigh, urging him to turn over while pressing a kiss to his neck.]
You should tell me about it sometime.
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[ ian doesn't need to tell him twice, and it only takes the first nudge before mickey's turning onto his stomach, fingers curling in the comforter on top of his mattress, hips canting up for ease of use. his cheek presses against the blanket, lips curling in a wide smile as he feels ian kissing along the back of his neck, shivers and sweet shocks dancing up his spine. ]
Or I could show you. Later. Tomorrow, maybe.
[ today, he is busy. busy pushing back against the weight of ian's hips, feeling his cock slot between his cheeks and grinding back against him. ]
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You're so fucking tight... you sure you've been thinking about me every day?
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I know it might be a shock— [ a shift of ian's hips and mickey's breathing hitches, sharp inhale interrupting him as his body shudders around ian. god, he's missed this. a month is too fucking long. ] But my fingers are a little smaller than your dick.
[ especially considering ian has the most incredible cock mickey's ever seen, but maybe he's a bit biased. ]
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Then it's time to try more fingers.
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It's time for you to shut up about my fingers and fuck me. [ because he can't keep track of actual conversation right now anyway, just the steady pulse of ian's dick moving deep inside him. ] Christ, Ian, I missed you.
[ mickey reaches a hand up, gripping onto whatever he can find - ian's arm, his bicep, a shoulder, hell, he'll curl his fingers into his hair if he's ducked down low enough - and his thigh spread, knees bracing against the mattress until he has enough leverage to push back and meet each thrust into him. ]