Chapter Text
“Ian Gallagher!” Mickey Milkovich sing-songs as he barges into the Kash and Grab, Tony and Jamie behind him. His eyes flit carefully around the store he regularly steals from. He lands on the shelves in the back of the store. “You messed with the wrong girl!” Ian darts out from behind the shelves. Both his brothers follow him as they run after Ian who shuts himself into the storeroom, locking the door.
Mickey slams his body against the door, Jamie and Tony kicking and slamming their fists on it, “Mandy told us what you did, you piece of shit! Get out here! Get out here!” He screams, throwing himself at the door.
“Easy, easy,” Kash with the weird last name starts as he approaches them, “he’s gone! There’s a door in the back of the storeroom.”
“Alley!” He turns to his brothers who stare at him blankly. “Alley!” He screams and throws his arm at the door. They both go barreling out. He goes to follow before he remembers Kash. He slams the man against the wall, “You tell fuckhead this is not over!” He runs out of the store, pushing a crate over as he goes.
-
“They’re gone.” Kash says gently through the door, moving out of the way when he hears the click of the lock. Ian’s boyish, fifteen-year-old face appears, glancing around as if they might be hiding. “What was that?”
“Mandy wanted me to have sex with her and I pushed her away. Must’ve told her brothers I tried something.” Ian sighs and pushes past him to get back to restocking.
-
Mickey Milkovich is not anything. No, really, he’s nothing. Ian knows what Tony and Jamie are, their alpha pheromones stank up the entire store, but he didn’t catch a whiff of anything from Mickey. Even betas, while their scents are light and hardly recognizable (he knows because of Kash), have a scent. Mickey does not have a scent. It bugs him. He wants to press his nose into Mickey’s neck and search until he can find something to identify as Mickey. And it’s not a sexual thing either. He just needs to know. Something with his biology as an alpha, he doesn’t know.
-
He hides in Kash’s truck. Mickey, Tony, and Jamie are waiting for him across the street as Kash locks up.
“Where’s Firecrotch?” Mickey calls from across the street. Kash makes his way to the car. “Ey! Kash and Grab!” Kash climbs into the car and he doesn’t move because he can’t give himself away. “He’s only makin it worse! Okay, okay. We’re gonna find him. Hey. Kash and Grab! Tomorrow. When your shithole opens.”
“They’re leaving.” Kash’s voice is gentle, like this morning.
He moves into a position where he can easily climb out of the back of the truck, “This wouldn’t be happening if I’d just had sex with her.”
“You can’t be what you’re not, Ian.” Kash looks back at him, face too gentle, too understanding.
“Shut up. You are.” That’s the end of the conversation.
-
“Ey, you. Yeah, you. You see Ian in there?” Ian ducks down a little; afraid Mickey might catch sight of him. Thankfully, he doesn’t even turn to the window.
Steve glances back at the house and shakes his head, “Not home.”
“You know when he’s comin back?”
Steve pauses, “Nah man, not a clue.”
Mickey thumbs at his lip, turning around to face the house. Ian freezes. “Yeah, yeah, alright fuckhead.” Mickey looks up at the window. He and Lip jolt away. Mickey smirks and calls up, “Hey Lip! How’s your lip? Yeah I saw you up there. Tell your shithead brother we’re waiting for him.”
Lip sits down on the bed, looking up at Ian. “I’m sorry your face got busted up.”
“S’okay.” He pulls out a cigarette, cupping his hand around and lighting it.
“I didn’t do anything to Mandy.”
Lip looks up at him. He thinks it might be a little sympathetic. Probably not. “I know that, Ian, but her brothers think you did.”
He huffs and grabs their beers that had been left on the windowsill. “I mean, she tried to rape me, I pushed her off, and now she’s mad.”
“You’re probably the first guy who hasn’t tried to jump her.” Lip mumbles as he takes the beer offered to him.
“She started screaming and crying.” He shakes his head, sipping the beer.
“Maybe you should, y’know, throw it in her?” Lip makes a lewd gesture, “Maybe get her to call her brothers off?”
Ian stares at him incredulously for a second before spouting, “And maybe you should throw it in Kash, okay?”
Lip looks slightly surprised, just a twitch in his face really, “Why, is he asking about me?”
He snorts, “Oh yeah. He’s trying to go through all the Gallagher brothers.
Lip nods, “Cool.”
Ian chuckles a little and plays with the beer tab.
They don’t say anything for a while, Lip looking around awkwardly and Ian sipping the beer. “Eventually you’re gonna have to take the beat down for this, you know?”
Ian inhales sharply, “Yeah. I know.”
-
Ian’s crouched behind trashcans across from the Milkovich house when he touches his arm gently. He’s looking through a hole between two so he doesn’t see him approach, the baseball bat twirling in his hands. Ian jumps, eyes wild when he looks back at him. “Shit! Jesus.” He breathes a sigh of relief.
“So what’s the plan?” Lip squats next to him.
“Hit Mickey over the head with the bat when he comes out of the house.”
Lip looks over at him, “What about the other brothers?”
Ian hesitates, “They’ll probably beat me to death.”
He shakes his head once and picks up the brick in front of him, “I’ll fight them off while you run.”
Ian lets out a breath of displeasure, “This is my problem, not yours.”
He scoffs, “It’ll be fun. I owe ‘em one.” He raises an eyebrow. He can feel Ian’s eyes one him even when he turns his head, checking to make sure he’s sure.
They watch the door in silence, but not for long. Mandy comes out and Ian’s hand is running over the bat in nerves. “Shit.” He exclaims, running across the street after her.
Lip moves to watch through the hole Ian had just been looking through but they disappeared. “Fuck.” He stands and makes his way back.
-
Mandy’s a pretty great girl. She understood and even offered to be his fake girlfriend (beard, he corrects). He thinks it’s a good idea. She’s a beta, so he doesn’t feel any pull towards her scent, not like he’d feel if she were an omega. If she were an alpha, it wouldn’t be very believable. He thanks whoever for having that work in his favor.
-
He leans against some old fuck’s restaurant, cigarette dangling between his fingers. He watches the Kash and Grab. Some lady on her cell phone leaves and he deems it empty enough to go. He crosses the street, not bothering to check for oncoming cars. He takes one last puff of his cigarette before dropping it on the ground.
Upon entering the tiny store, he glances at Kash who eyes him suspiciously. What’re you gonna do about it, Towelhead? Some weird ass Indian music plays from a small speaker mounted on the wall above the drinks. He ignores it, though, as he grabs a blue Gatorade, two cans of Pringles, and a box of Ding Dongs.
He almost walks past Kash again, but notices a box. He glances in it—a smaller box of gum—before dumping it out. He places the shit he just grabbed into it. Glancing around the counter he notices a box of Kit-Kats. He grabs two packs and then looks around again. Did he forget anything? No. Oh wait. “Oh. Heads up, man. You’re out of Barbeque Pringles.” He scoffs and turns, leaving out the door.
He’s halfway down the street when he remembers. He forgot the dip. Fucking idiot. He turns around, walking back in. Gallagher’s standing at the front now, talking with Towelhead about fuck ever. He pushes past them, going back to the freezers. He grabs it and then goes to leave. “Forgot the dip!” He shakes his head in amusement, shaking the container.
“Hey Mickey! Why don’t you steal from a neighborhood you don’t live in? Have some civic pride, huh?”
He turns around. Gallagher? His sister’s fucking boyfriend, Gallagher? That faggot’s got some damn balls. He raises his eyebrows and looks down at his box. What doesn’t he need? Fuck. Forget the dip. He grabs it and then chucks it at his head.
“Jesus fuck!” Both he and Towelhead duck, the dip splattering on the door behind them.
He turns back around. “You know where I live if you gotta problem.” He slips his finger into his mouth, sucking off the rest of the dip.
-
Kash gets a gun at his urging. Late at night when the store is long closed, he, Kash, and Linda gather outside so they can try it out. Turns out, they suck. He takes the gun from them, showing them how to shoot it properly. “ROTC,” He tells them proudly.
-
Mickey stole the gun. Mickey fucking stole the fucking gun. Ian stands outside the Milkovich house, the used up Welcome Home DAD sign already hanging. Mandy answers the door.
She grins, “Hey, change your mind about that movie?”
He ignores her, leaning in to check the house. It reeks of alpha stench, as always. “Where’s Mickey?”
She looks at him oddly, “Downstate picking up our dad from prison, why?”
He ignores her again, pushing past to enter the house. He heads directly for Mickey’s room. “What the hell, Ian?” She demands, following him. He messes up. He goes into someone else’s room. He sees a STAY THE FUCK OUT sign. Mickey’s. “Mickey will kill you.” Mandy says from behind him, but he’s not listening. He flips over the couch cushion and then rummages through drawers, trying to find the gun. “What do you want? IAN!” Mandy screams at him and he finally acknowledges her.
“He hit Kash, okay?” She approaches him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.
“Just go. I’ll put everything back.” She pushes him towards the door.
He shakes his head. “Tell him it ends now. No more messing with Kash. And tell him I want the gun back. Tonight.”
-
Mickey doesn’t bring the gun. So Ian takes things into his own hands. He goes to the Milkovich’s the next morning. The place is disgusting. Empty beer cans and red plastic cups litter the lawn, beer bottles and trash on the porch. He’s about to go in but he knows he’ll need a weapon if he wants to defend himself. He glances around. The only thing he sees is a tire iron.
Terry’s asleep on the couch, Mickey’s door is shut. He holds the iron like he holds the baseball bat, looking around to make sure no one’s gonna try to jump him. It’s not quite peaceful, but it's definitely not his house. He opens Mickey’s door slowly, checking to make sure he’s not awake. Good.
He hits the tire iron against Mickey’s back, hearing the metal clink on his spine. “The fuck?” Mickey turns to him, eyes half-lidded and tired.
“I want the gun back, Mickey!” He demands.
“Gallagher?!” Mickey starts to move so he gets a little anxious. He taps him with the iron again.
“The gun.” He says, firmer.
Mickey raises his hand in surrender, the other used to support his weight. “Alright.”
Wait. Something isn’t right. But before he can tell what’s different, Mickey’s slamming him against the wall. He scrambles, trying to slam him with the iron in his hand but Mickey knocks it out. He tries to move, hitting Mickey once in the chest but kinda by accident. He pushes him off and then throws him back down, both of them grabbing and hitting whatever they can. Mickey throws him off again and grabs the tire iron, pushing him back on the bed. Ian tries to move, tries to get away. Mickey turns him onto his back, straddling his shoulders. He raises the tire iron, about to bash his face in.
And then Ian smells it. Omega. His eyes widen and he looks up at Mickey. Mickey looks down at him. They’re panting, loudly, but Ian can’t hear that. All he can hear is the rushing in his ears and pounding of his heart. He’s never met another omega who isn’t his little sister Debbie. Mickey’s eyes dart over to his dresser and, if Ian were paying attention, he’d see the bottle of pills.
Mickey drops the iron and Ian watches it fall from his hands, making a clattering sound even against the carpet. Ian knows what’s coming before he sees it. Mickey tears at his shirt, pulling it off desperately so Ian pushes at him. He wants to take his shirt off too. He pulls at the jacket covering him and Mickey’s chest is bare.
His skin is white. Really white. And clear. So clear and clean for looking so dirty all the time. He wants to mark him. Shit, no. Fuck. No. He’s pulled from his thoughts as Mickey grabs at his shirt, helping him pull it off.
And then Mickey’s pulling off his pants and so Ian thinks he better follow.
And then they’re naked. Ian stares down at Mickey and he never thought a smell could affect him so much. And it’s so faint. Mickey must be on suppressants, he thinks, because he’s never smelled him like this before. “You gonna get on me, Firecrotch?”
“L-lube?” He chokes out and Mickey looks back at him.
“You a fuckin idiot or something?” Ian glances down at Mickey’s hole to see it already glistening wet. It’s wet and pink and so pretty in a way that an asshole—y’know, the things that spew shit—shouldn’t be. He can't resist. He fucking can’t. He leans down and licks it. Really quickly because he can't resist. Fuck. He tastes as good as he smells.
He brings his hands up to his cheeks, spreading them and watching with fascination as Mickey’s hole fucking winks at him. It winks. Shit. “Gallagher, what the hell are you-” Mickey doesn’t finish because, he’s guessing, Ian shoves a finger inside. It’s wet and hot and it lets out some more of that smell. “Shit.” Mickey hisses. Ian pulls his finger out. It glistens as well, just like Mickey’s hole. He sucks it into his mouth. Oh yeah. Oh hell yeah. He tastes so fucking good.
Ian leans down again, this time lapping at his hole, digging his tongue into it. He would stay down here forever but Mickey reaches back and grabs at his hair, tugging. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You taste good. So fucking-” He doesn’t finish because he’s going for it again but Mickey’s hand in his hair stops him.
“Fucking get on me or get out.” But Mickey sounds just as wrecked as Ian feels.
“Sorry.” He mumbles, straightening up. He glances down at his dick, flush and curving, before he leans forward and tries to get it in Mickey. He misses once, twice, three times before the head catches on Mickey's rim. He inhales sharply as he snaps his hips forward. He normally goes in slow, getting Kash used to the burn, but he can't. Not now. He’s so hard and Mickey is wet. Naturally wet and so warm and tight. He’s really tight and he squeezes around his dick so nicely. “Fuck.” He breathes.
“Will you keep quiet?” Mickey snaps at him but he follows it with a grunt.
And then the room is filled with grunts. And Ian is lost in the sound. He's lost in Mickey and the feeling around his cock. "Fuck." He chokes as he pulls out and cums over Mickey's back. Mickey follows quickly.