[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.]
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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.]