2 Fills for ianmickey Meme
Because I am paranoid, Overall Disclaimer: I do not own Shameless.
Fill 1: Untitled
Prompt: Lip/Ian. Lip's curious about all the hulabaloo of being gay. He trusts his brother and asks about experimenting. He likes it. A lot.
Rating: PG-13
The house was dark and silent as Lip slipped out of his room. A door creaking from the other side of the house could wake Liam, so he carefully avoided the floorboards that squeaked and the toys strewn about the hallway and stairwell as he made his way down to the kitchen.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed that soft, yellow light was coming through the archway, from the living room. He got the glass of water he had been craving, and moved to the living room. His sister was sitting on the couch, a single lamp turned on beside her.
“Fiona?” He called as he sat in the chair across from her. She jumped, her gaze refocusing from where she had been staring at nothing.
“Hey, Lip.” She sighed tiredly, scrubbing a hand over her face.
“What’s up?”
“Just thinking. About Steve.” She admitted.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes narrowed as she read the clock across the room. “You should get to bed. It’s late.”
“Got up to get a drink.” He explained, lifting the glass in his hand as proof. “Hey, I’ve just been wondering, but… Is there anyone in our family who’s over the age of sixteen and hasn’t at least tried out the gay thing?”
“’The gay thing’?” Fiona questioned with an amused smirk. “As far as I know just you and Ian.”
“Right. So just me, then.”
“You know?” Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow. “…Is that going to cause a problem?” He noticed the way her muscles tensed and how she started wringing her hands in her lap.
“I found out a few months ago. We’ve worked it out.”
Fiona relaxed, sagging against the couch. “Good. I don’t know what I’d do if you guys started fighting right now.”
“No worries. We’re still thick as thieves.” He assured her, recalling how Grammie used to describe him and Ian. Before the meth lab.
She smiled and stood, pulling him to his feet and into a hug. After a moment, she pulled away and patted him on the back. “Alright, time for bed. You’re going to school tomorrow. And if you ever steal another car-”
“You’ll kick my ass.” Lip finished for her. “I got it the first five times.” He muttered with a grin as he started up the steps.
“Don’t be a smart ass.” Fiona called after him.
“But that’s what I do best!”
The next afternoon, Ian was lying in his bed, throwing a ball into his mini basketball hoop when Lip came into the room. “Where’s Carl?” He asked. He had seen Fiona, Debbie, and Liam on his way up, but his most destructive sibling was apparently missing. Carl missing almost always led to something bad.
“Staying the night at a friend’s house.” Ian explained.
Lip paused in setting his bag down on the floor, turning to stare at his brother. “Someone let Carl into their house? And they plan on sleeping while he’s there?”
“One of the kids he plays hockey with. He has five brothers, and the mom told Fiona that one more boy wouldn’t make that much difference.”
Lip laughed sharply. “Clearly, she doesn’t know Carl. Let’s hope they hid anything flammable.”
Ian shrugged and went back to his game. “Fiona has the number, so we can call to check on him if we hear emergency sirens.”
Pulling a book out of his bag, Lip sat at his desk and started looking through it. The SAT-professor guy had given it to him and told him to study it. He wasn’t necessarily going to do that, but he could at least see what it was about.
The next time he looked at the clock, it was almost half an hour later. He sighed and slammed the book shut, causing a loud smack. He hadn’t meant to read it for so long (doing so felt too much like giving the professor what he wanted), but… it was an interesting subject.
He heard Ian echo his sigh, and turned toward him. He had long stopped playing his game, and was now just staring at the ceiling, loosely holding the ball against his chest.
“What are you angsting about?” Lip asked, drawing Ian’s attention to him.
“I’m thinking about Mickey.”
“Worried your boyfriend’s become somebody’s wife?” He asked with a small smirk.
“More worried about what he’s going to do when he gets out. And he’s not my boyfriend. If he heard you say that, he’d kill you, then me.”
Instead of replying, Lip fell silent, which was odd. Ian had been expecting some kind of snarky comment (as his brother never seemed to run out of them). But he watched as, while the silence stretched on, Lip got more and more nervous. He couldn’t meet Ian’s eye for more than a few seconds before darting to something else. His hands were clenched, and he bit his lip. Ian couldn’t ever remember seeing Lip nervous about talking to him before.
“What is it?” He finally prompted.
Lip was thinking about his conversation with Fiona the night before. And how lately his eyes had been… lingering. On things that they hadn’t before. Specifically, guys. “How did you know you were gay?” He asked.
“Kissed a guy, thought it was about a hundred times more awesome than kissing a girl, which I never thought was all that great, and I suddenly understood why everybody wanted to have sex all the time.”
“Who did you kiss?”
“Roger Spikey - but he kissed me. Dude had some pretty epic gaydar. He called Mickey three years ago, before he moved. So, are you having some kind of sexual identity crisis, or what?”
“I do like girls…”
Ian groaned, almost as if in pain. “I’m pretty sure that Mandy somehow heard that and is now sending me some of her ‘psychic vibes’ to slap you. If I have to hear another rant on the ‘common misconceptions that people have about sexuality’, I’m going to go crazy. Though, that might be her goal, because if I go crazy, then I might find her more Glee DVDs.”
“Mandy likes Glee?”
“I stole season 1 for her birthday, then got to sit through, essentially, a twenty-hour musical.” Ian shuddered. “Never again. But don’t try to change the subject. Why are you asking me about being gay?”
“If I thought that maybe I could be into guys, how would you recommend I… check that?”
This, Ian could tell, was the big question Lip had been leading up to. Mostly because of how the awkward was rolling off Lip in waves. “Try it out.” He suggested with a shrug. “With a guy you trust. Someone you know won’t freak out if you make a move, or try to blackmail you or something stupid.”
“Well, that’s kind of a problem. Because when it comes to guys I trust, there’s Steve, - and even if he hadn’t skipped town, I have no interest in macking on Fiona’s boyfriend - Kevin, - same problem, but replace ‘Fiona’ with ‘Veronica’ - and you.”
“…So, are you saying that you want to make out with me?” Ian asked after a short pause.
“Just forget it.” Lip said harshly, jumping to his feet.
“I didn’t say no.”
Lip paused as his hand reached the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I trust you, too.”
“But we’re brothers.”
“Cousins.” Ian corrected.
“No.” Lip said, cutting off whatever else Ian was going to say. “For one, you’re still Monica’s, so it would be half-brothers. For two, it doesn’t matter if you’re Monica and Frank’s, Monica and Clayton’s, Clayton and Aunt Lucy’s, or the kid of two complete strangers - you’re my brother.” Ian immediately relaxed and looked, if Lip wasn’t mistaken, relieved. And Lip realized that he hadn’t called Ian his brother since he had seen the results of the test. He hadn’t corrected other people who had assumed that they were brothers or that Ian was Frank’s son, but up until that point, he hadn’t said the words. “…You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, of course.” Ian assured him easily, but everything about him screamed that he had doubted it. “Come here.” Ian changed the subject, sitting up and patting the bed beside him. “It'll be okay.” Ian said softly, addressing Lip's unspoken worry.
“Right. Incest, it’s no big deal. That’s why it’s taboo and illegal.”
“Get over here.” Ian snapped impatiently. This time, Lip listened. “I’m so sure you care about it being illegal,” the red-head grumbled. “Considering that your hobbies include grand theft auto and falsifying SAT scores.”
“Hey, I got those scores legitimately.” Lip said. “…I just got them while pretending to be other people.”
“That’s still illeg-”
“Shut up, Ian.” And Ian did when he noticed that Lip had shifted and was slowly leaning closer to him. Suddenly, Lip moved forward and pressed their lips together for possibly half a second.
There were a few seconds of silence, during which Lip tried to compare the kiss to kissing a girl, before Ian burst out laughing.
“What?” Lip questioned defensively.
“That was bullshit.” Ian said, struggling to get himself under control. “That wasn’t a real kiss. That was how you would kiss Debbie.”
“Which is fitting, because she’s my sister and you are my broth-” And then he found himself unable to speak due to the fact that Ian had slammed their lips together. Ian’s tongue slid against his closed lips and, almost on instinct, his mouth opened and oh God, Ian tasted good. Ian’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and Lip tangled a hand in his hair.
He didn’t know which one of them groaned, but it was enough to startle them into pulling apart. Both of them were breathing hard, and Ian’s lips were a little red, and he wanted to lean forward and shove his tongue back in his mouth-
“Fuck.” Lip hissed under his breath, letting go of Ian and falling backwards on the bed. “Fuck. I like making out with my baby brother.”
“Liam is your baby brother.” Ian corrected, collapsing beside him.
“Little brother. Like that makes it any better.”
“…If it matters, I like making out with my big brother.” Ian said softly, voice partially muffled. He had grabbed a pillow and buried half his face in it. Lip slowly smiled.
“That so?” He asked, placing his head on the pillow next to Ian’s as the red-head returned his smile.
Two weeks later, Ian was lying on his bed reading a book that Mandy had given him when Lip came in.
“Guess what.” He said as he pulled the door shut behind him.
“What?”
“Carl is staying at his friend’s house again. Apparently he managed not to set anything on fire, and they don’t have any pets to kill. The mom actually thinks he’s a good kid.” Lip said while tugging off his jacket and throwing it in the direction of his bed.
“What a horrible judge of character.” Ian commented, shutting his book and setting it out of the way.
“Thank god she is.” Ian laughed as he twisted onto his back while Lip climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply.
Ian moaned as he felt Lip’s hand slip under his shirt, pushing the material out of the way.
“Lip, did you see where Debbie left her-”
They tried to scramble apart when they heard the door open, Ian pulling his shirt down frantically, but both boys froze as they met Fiona’s eye.
“It’s… not what it looks like?” The red-head tried weakly, his voice high-pitched and soft. “Shit, never mind, there’s nothing else it could be.”
Lip, for his part, was trying to count all the ways this could end badly.
He had gotten to two hundred and fifty-seven before Fiona spoke.
“I - Okay.” She managed, her mouth opening and closing uselessly a few times. “Um… Okay.”
The door shut with a click, and the room was silent.
Fill 2: Connect the Dots
Prompt: Worshipping the freckles. {Kash, Mandy, Mickey}
Rating: NC-17
-Sorry if the first part feels rushed, I don’t really ship Ian/Kash… Also, the third part is supposed to take place a bit into the future, and mentions some Lip/Mandy.
Ian tugged at Kash’s shirt as the older man pushed him against the wall. Linda was taking the boys to soccer practice or boy scouts or something - he hadn’t been listening, and the only thing he cared about was the fact that she’d be gone long enough for him and Kash to have a quickie in the storeroom without having to worry about getting caught.
Kash tugged his shirt over his head and trailed his mouth down his neck, to his chest. Ian moaned as he felt Kash’s tongue against his skin while his fingers trailed lower against his stomach. But, something was different. Kash was usually as eager to get under clothing as he was, but he seemed to be taking his time. And it almost felt like his fingers and tongue were moving purposely over his skin.
He forced his eyes open, and looked down questioningly. It only took him a few seconds to realize that Kash was using his fingers, tongue, and lips to trail from one of the many freckles on Ian’s pale torso to another.
Confused, Ian let his head fall back, moaning almost desperately as his hips twitched forward. A louder moan escaped his lips as Kash finally moved on to undoing the button on his jeans.
The Milkoviches were a freaking huge family. Frank Gallagher may have fathered six children, but the Milkoviches could breed like rabbits.
And every one of them who was still alive and not in prison gathered in Mandy’s backyard almost weekly for a “barbeque” (read: kegger).
Mandy had finally dragged him to one and it had been a good party, so he kept showing up.
Oddly enough, kids liked him - and Milkoviches in general seemed to be drawn to him, anyway - so when Mandy’s mother had found an old sprinkler in the garage, it hadn’t been a surprise when the little hand of a blonde girl had grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him towards the water, nor when half a dozen others joined her. Giving Mandy an amused look, he had taken off his shirt - to the cheers of the kids around him, who knew it meant he was giving in - and handed it to her before letting them drag him off.
When he finally managed to escape, he trudged back to the deck, sighing tiredly as he leaned against it. He heard a giggle, and turned to see Mandy walking toward him, setting her plastic red cup down on a table as she got close. She had apparently changed into one of her skimpy bikinis while he had been occupied.
The deck wasn’t big, just enough to make Mandy a head taller than Ian as she came up behind him. So she easily wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning on her elbows resting on top of his shoulders and pressing her chest against his back.
“Mandy, what are you doing?”
“It’s fine.” She whispered in his ear, and she sounded drunk enough that Ian knew the red cup hadn’t been her first drink. “I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, remember? If we don’t act like it, someone’ll get suspicious, silly.”
She rested her cheek on the top of his head, and moved one of her arms. Then he felt a tiny finger gliding on his back and shoulders, gently tracing random shapes.
He let her lazily continue drawing on his skin until most of the guests had either left or were passed out in the yard, then turned so she tumbled into his arms and he was able to carry her to her bed.
(The next time he went over to the Milkovich house, it was empty aside from Mickey, and he didn’t let him get more than ten feet inside before slamming him against a wall and fucking him so hard that Ian worried they would leave a dent.)
Ian woke to light leaking in through the blinds and fingers against his chest. He groaned, feeling the fingers pause as their owner realized he was awake, then continue on their way.
“What are you doing?” He asked groggily, rubbing his eye.
“…You’ve got a lot of freckles, Gallagher.” Came Mickey’s answer.
“Why does everyone love them so much?” Ian questioned rhetorically, stretching his arms above his head, somehow without dislodging the wandering fingers. “You. Mandy. Kash.” He heard Mickey growl lowly and one of the fingers suddenly scratched down his chest, trailing over a nipple with the right amount of pressure to make his breath hitch and his back arch. “So fucking jealous…” He murmured, and the fingers pinched sharply.
He opened his eyes to see Mickey’s mouth twisted halfway between a smirk and a scowl (an expression he saw often on the other boy’s face, but was rarely a good thing) and felt a hand grab his wrists, pinning them to the bed. “Mandy likes your freckles, huh?” He said, making patterns out of the ones scattered on the red-head’s chest. “And Kash?” His nails trailed down Ian’s side, making the pale boy buck his hips as he moaned.
“Come on. I was teasing. Let it go and fuck me.” Ian snapped, grinding their hips together, but Mickey chuckled.
“No.” He said, moving back until he was straddling the top of Ian’s thighs, far enough away that Ian wouldn’t be able to easily get any friction, but not so far that he had to release Ian’s wrists. “I think I’m going to count them.” He said with a fucking evil smirk. Ian groaned as Mickey leaned forward, unpinning Ian’s legs but, as the red-head found out, somehow using his knees and legs to keep Ian from being able to thrust up easily. Then, there were fingers on his jaw, and Mickey pressed his lips against his forehead. To his embarrassment, it made Ian’s cock twitch, just because the kiss was more intimate - more romantic - than Mickey usually liked to be. “One.” The suddenly infuriating boy said. “Two. Three.”
Ian groaned again, twisting his head away from Mickey to glare at the wall. In response, the other boy shifted and bit Ian’s neck roughly. Ian arched his back, moaning almost obscenely, overreacting to the bite in an attempt to get Mickey’s attention away from his damned freckles.
“Hold still.” Mickey warned, breath hot and teasing against Ian’s ear. “You’ll make me lose count.” The red-head huffed, but forced his body still, hoping that if he stopped reacting, Mickey would get bored and move on to more interesting things than his freckles. Like the erection tenting his boxers.
Mickey slowly moved down his face (and he actually was counting every. single. one. Fuck.) and, as he finished on his cheeks, he apparently couldn’t resist Ian’s lips, because then his mouth was on Ian’s and his tongue filled Ian’s mouth, and Christ, was he about to get off on a kiss? The loud, almost desperate moan that escaped from his throat and the heat pooling in his belly made him think so. But then Mickey pulled away and he choked down a sob of frustration. He needed something against him, something more than the barely-there touch of Mickey’s finger touching each spot on his face.
“Please.” Spilled out, even as he tried to stop the words, when Mickey touched a freckle by the corner of his mouth and said another number. “Mickey, God. Please.”
He paused and, after a few seconds, the hand around his wrists loosed enough for Ian to pull his hands away. He immediately grabbed Mickey’s hips, grinding him down against his erection, feeling the other boy’s hands grab his arms on the first thrust and spasm as he repeated the motion. He could feel through the layers of thin cloth that Mickey was just as hard as he was.
Mickey was secretly glad that Ian had been the first one to break. For one, there were about ten billion of the little brown marks decorating his skin and even if they had been able to lie in bed all day, he wouldn’t have made it past Ian’s waist. For two, he was really fucking hard, and there was no way he would have been able to control himself for much longer with the red-head pinned under him. Suddenly, Ian wrapped an arm around his waist and took advantage of his surprise by flipping them over and - when the fuck had Gallagher managed to get lube and a condom?
He also didn’t notice when Ian quickly pulled his boxers down out of the way. He jumped when a finger coated in cold lube slipped inside him and it shocked him enough for a small cry to escape his mouth.
“So fucking hot,” Ian growled, lips moving against the skin of his neck. “When you let yourself make some damn noise.” He bit down harshly as he slid a second finger inside.
“Don’t-” Mickey managed, and it took a humiliating amount of effort not to stutter, especially as Ian started spreading his fingers.
“Don’t what?” Ian asked, pulling back just far enough that Mickey could see the bite on his neck, still an angry, vibrant red. “Leave any marks, not where people can see? You weren’t very careful.” (He knew Carl would be teasing Ian about Mandy liking to bite for days, despite the fact that, if any of them paid attention, they’d realize that Mandy was the girl Lip kept sneaking into his room at night when his brothers were sleeping elsewhere).
“Just do it.” Mickey ground out instead of answering. But Ian ignored him and slid another finger inside, curling and spreading them until Mickey unwillingly thrust his hips back, fucking himself on Ian’s fingers. A hand shot out and grabbed Ian’s wrist and pulled him out. “Fucking hell.” He growled, tugging at Ian’s boxers until the red-head slid them down and off his legs.
He heard Ian rip the condom open, and his hand gripped Mickey’s shoulder as he lined himself up, pressing him down into the bed. Mickey’s hands fisted in the sheets when he finally started to push in, because he wasn’t going to fucking cling to Gallagher, and somehow he always managed to forget how big Ian was, because it felt like the red-head just kept going impossibly deeper, every damn time.
A shudder ran through Ian and he choked on nothing but air as he finally bottomed out, hips flush against Mickey. He fell to his elbows, panting as he fought to keep himself still.
“Good?” He asked after a few moments, and Mickey nodded, swallowing even though his mouth was dry. And Ian started thrusting.
Despite his best efforts, short, quiet noises forced their way out of his throat in time to the thrusts once Ian moved and found the right angle. Ian moaned and started moving faster, thrusting harder. The teasing must have gotten him close, because then he slipped a hand between them and a few hard strokes later, Mickey’s vision went white as his cum coated their stomachs and Ian’s fist. Ian followed a thrust later, panting as he rode out his orgasm. Then he stilled, breath huffing against Mickey’s skin for a few moments before pulling out. He tied the condom off and through it in the basket next to the bed before collapsing beside Mickey with a sigh.
A few minutes later, Ian’s eyes cracked open as he felt fingers against his skin again, this time on his back. “Seriously, what-”
“They’re hot, okay?” Mickey cut him off.
There were a few moments of silence, and Ian reached out to drag a pillow over to him to he could shield his eyes from the sun by burying his face in it. “’Kay,” He finally responded, and Mickey hated to admit it, but he was just fucking cute. And Mickey was getting hard again. “Just let me know when you get tired of playing connect-the-dots and want to fuck some more.”
(It was a short wait.)
Fill 1: Untitled
Prompt: Lip/Ian. Lip's curious about all the hulabaloo of being gay. He trusts his brother and asks about experimenting. He likes it. A lot.
Rating: PG-13
The house was dark and silent as Lip slipped out of his room. A door creaking from the other side of the house could wake Liam, so he carefully avoided the floorboards that squeaked and the toys strewn about the hallway and stairwell as he made his way down to the kitchen.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed that soft, yellow light was coming through the archway, from the living room. He got the glass of water he had been craving, and moved to the living room. His sister was sitting on the couch, a single lamp turned on beside her.
“Fiona?” He called as he sat in the chair across from her. She jumped, her gaze refocusing from where she had been staring at nothing.
“Hey, Lip.” She sighed tiredly, scrubbing a hand over her face.
“What’s up?”
“Just thinking. About Steve.” She admitted.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes narrowed as she read the clock across the room. “You should get to bed. It’s late.”
“Got up to get a drink.” He explained, lifting the glass in his hand as proof. “Hey, I’ve just been wondering, but… Is there anyone in our family who’s over the age of sixteen and hasn’t at least tried out the gay thing?”
“’The gay thing’?” Fiona questioned with an amused smirk. “As far as I know just you and Ian.”
“Right. So just me, then.”
“You know?” Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow. “…Is that going to cause a problem?” He noticed the way her muscles tensed and how she started wringing her hands in her lap.
“I found out a few months ago. We’ve worked it out.”
Fiona relaxed, sagging against the couch. “Good. I don’t know what I’d do if you guys started fighting right now.”
“No worries. We’re still thick as thieves.” He assured her, recalling how Grammie used to describe him and Ian. Before the meth lab.
She smiled and stood, pulling him to his feet and into a hug. After a moment, she pulled away and patted him on the back. “Alright, time for bed. You’re going to school tomorrow. And if you ever steal another car-”
“You’ll kick my ass.” Lip finished for her. “I got it the first five times.” He muttered with a grin as he started up the steps.
“Don’t be a smart ass.” Fiona called after him.
“But that’s what I do best!”
The next afternoon, Ian was lying in his bed, throwing a ball into his mini basketball hoop when Lip came into the room. “Where’s Carl?” He asked. He had seen Fiona, Debbie, and Liam on his way up, but his most destructive sibling was apparently missing. Carl missing almost always led to something bad.
“Staying the night at a friend’s house.” Ian explained.
Lip paused in setting his bag down on the floor, turning to stare at his brother. “Someone let Carl into their house? And they plan on sleeping while he’s there?”
“One of the kids he plays hockey with. He has five brothers, and the mom told Fiona that one more boy wouldn’t make that much difference.”
Lip laughed sharply. “Clearly, she doesn’t know Carl. Let’s hope they hid anything flammable.”
Ian shrugged and went back to his game. “Fiona has the number, so we can call to check on him if we hear emergency sirens.”
Pulling a book out of his bag, Lip sat at his desk and started looking through it. The SAT-professor guy had given it to him and told him to study it. He wasn’t necessarily going to do that, but he could at least see what it was about.
The next time he looked at the clock, it was almost half an hour later. He sighed and slammed the book shut, causing a loud smack. He hadn’t meant to read it for so long (doing so felt too much like giving the professor what he wanted), but… it was an interesting subject.
He heard Ian echo his sigh, and turned toward him. He had long stopped playing his game, and was now just staring at the ceiling, loosely holding the ball against his chest.
“What are you angsting about?” Lip asked, drawing Ian’s attention to him.
“I’m thinking about Mickey.”
“Worried your boyfriend’s become somebody’s wife?” He asked with a small smirk.
“More worried about what he’s going to do when he gets out. And he’s not my boyfriend. If he heard you say that, he’d kill you, then me.”
Instead of replying, Lip fell silent, which was odd. Ian had been expecting some kind of snarky comment (as his brother never seemed to run out of them). But he watched as, while the silence stretched on, Lip got more and more nervous. He couldn’t meet Ian’s eye for more than a few seconds before darting to something else. His hands were clenched, and he bit his lip. Ian couldn’t ever remember seeing Lip nervous about talking to him before.
“What is it?” He finally prompted.
Lip was thinking about his conversation with Fiona the night before. And how lately his eyes had been… lingering. On things that they hadn’t before. Specifically, guys. “How did you know you were gay?” He asked.
“Kissed a guy, thought it was about a hundred times more awesome than kissing a girl, which I never thought was all that great, and I suddenly understood why everybody wanted to have sex all the time.”
“Who did you kiss?”
“Roger Spikey - but he kissed me. Dude had some pretty epic gaydar. He called Mickey three years ago, before he moved. So, are you having some kind of sexual identity crisis, or what?”
“I do like girls…”
Ian groaned, almost as if in pain. “I’m pretty sure that Mandy somehow heard that and is now sending me some of her ‘psychic vibes’ to slap you. If I have to hear another rant on the ‘common misconceptions that people have about sexuality’, I’m going to go crazy. Though, that might be her goal, because if I go crazy, then I might find her more Glee DVDs.”
“Mandy likes Glee?”
“I stole season 1 for her birthday, then got to sit through, essentially, a twenty-hour musical.” Ian shuddered. “Never again. But don’t try to change the subject. Why are you asking me about being gay?”
“If I thought that maybe I could be into guys, how would you recommend I… check that?”
This, Ian could tell, was the big question Lip had been leading up to. Mostly because of how the awkward was rolling off Lip in waves. “Try it out.” He suggested with a shrug. “With a guy you trust. Someone you know won’t freak out if you make a move, or try to blackmail you or something stupid.”
“Well, that’s kind of a problem. Because when it comes to guys I trust, there’s Steve, - and even if he hadn’t skipped town, I have no interest in macking on Fiona’s boyfriend - Kevin, - same problem, but replace ‘Fiona’ with ‘Veronica’ - and you.”
“…So, are you saying that you want to make out with me?” Ian asked after a short pause.
“Just forget it.” Lip said harshly, jumping to his feet.
“I didn’t say no.”
Lip paused as his hand reached the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I trust you, too.”
“But we’re brothers.”
“Cousins.” Ian corrected.
“No.” Lip said, cutting off whatever else Ian was going to say. “For one, you’re still Monica’s, so it would be half-brothers. For two, it doesn’t matter if you’re Monica and Frank’s, Monica and Clayton’s, Clayton and Aunt Lucy’s, or the kid of two complete strangers - you’re my brother.” Ian immediately relaxed and looked, if Lip wasn’t mistaken, relieved. And Lip realized that he hadn’t called Ian his brother since he had seen the results of the test. He hadn’t corrected other people who had assumed that they were brothers or that Ian was Frank’s son, but up until that point, he hadn’t said the words. “…You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, of course.” Ian assured him easily, but everything about him screamed that he had doubted it. “Come here.” Ian changed the subject, sitting up and patting the bed beside him. “It'll be okay.” Ian said softly, addressing Lip's unspoken worry.
“Right. Incest, it’s no big deal. That’s why it’s taboo and illegal.”
“Get over here.” Ian snapped impatiently. This time, Lip listened. “I’m so sure you care about it being illegal,” the red-head grumbled. “Considering that your hobbies include grand theft auto and falsifying SAT scores.”
“Hey, I got those scores legitimately.” Lip said. “…I just got them while pretending to be other people.”
“That’s still illeg-”
“Shut up, Ian.” And Ian did when he noticed that Lip had shifted and was slowly leaning closer to him. Suddenly, Lip moved forward and pressed their lips together for possibly half a second.
There were a few seconds of silence, during which Lip tried to compare the kiss to kissing a girl, before Ian burst out laughing.
“What?” Lip questioned defensively.
“That was bullshit.” Ian said, struggling to get himself under control. “That wasn’t a real kiss. That was how you would kiss Debbie.”
“Which is fitting, because she’s my sister and you are my broth-” And then he found himself unable to speak due to the fact that Ian had slammed their lips together. Ian’s tongue slid against his closed lips and, almost on instinct, his mouth opened and oh God, Ian tasted good. Ian’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and Lip tangled a hand in his hair.
He didn’t know which one of them groaned, but it was enough to startle them into pulling apart. Both of them were breathing hard, and Ian’s lips were a little red, and he wanted to lean forward and shove his tongue back in his mouth-
“Fuck.” Lip hissed under his breath, letting go of Ian and falling backwards on the bed. “Fuck. I like making out with my baby brother.”
“Liam is your baby brother.” Ian corrected, collapsing beside him.
“Little brother. Like that makes it any better.”
“…If it matters, I like making out with my big brother.” Ian said softly, voice partially muffled. He had grabbed a pillow and buried half his face in it. Lip slowly smiled.
“That so?” He asked, placing his head on the pillow next to Ian’s as the red-head returned his smile.
Two weeks later, Ian was lying on his bed reading a book that Mandy had given him when Lip came in.
“Guess what.” He said as he pulled the door shut behind him.
“What?”
“Carl is staying at his friend’s house again. Apparently he managed not to set anything on fire, and they don’t have any pets to kill. The mom actually thinks he’s a good kid.” Lip said while tugging off his jacket and throwing it in the direction of his bed.
“What a horrible judge of character.” Ian commented, shutting his book and setting it out of the way.
“Thank god she is.” Ian laughed as he twisted onto his back while Lip climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply.
Ian moaned as he felt Lip’s hand slip under his shirt, pushing the material out of the way.
“Lip, did you see where Debbie left her-”
They tried to scramble apart when they heard the door open, Ian pulling his shirt down frantically, but both boys froze as they met Fiona’s eye.
“It’s… not what it looks like?” The red-head tried weakly, his voice high-pitched and soft. “Shit, never mind, there’s nothing else it could be.”
Lip, for his part, was trying to count all the ways this could end badly.
He had gotten to two hundred and fifty-seven before Fiona spoke.
“I - Okay.” She managed, her mouth opening and closing uselessly a few times. “Um… Okay.”
The door shut with a click, and the room was silent.
Fill 2: Connect the Dots
Prompt: Worshipping the freckles. {Kash, Mandy, Mickey}
Rating: NC-17
-Sorry if the first part feels rushed, I don’t really ship Ian/Kash… Also, the third part is supposed to take place a bit into the future, and mentions some Lip/Mandy.
Ian tugged at Kash’s shirt as the older man pushed him against the wall. Linda was taking the boys to soccer practice or boy scouts or something - he hadn’t been listening, and the only thing he cared about was the fact that she’d be gone long enough for him and Kash to have a quickie in the storeroom without having to worry about getting caught.
Kash tugged his shirt over his head and trailed his mouth down his neck, to his chest. Ian moaned as he felt Kash’s tongue against his skin while his fingers trailed lower against his stomach. But, something was different. Kash was usually as eager to get under clothing as he was, but he seemed to be taking his time. And it almost felt like his fingers and tongue were moving purposely over his skin.
He forced his eyes open, and looked down questioningly. It only took him a few seconds to realize that Kash was using his fingers, tongue, and lips to trail from one of the many freckles on Ian’s pale torso to another.
Confused, Ian let his head fall back, moaning almost desperately as his hips twitched forward. A louder moan escaped his lips as Kash finally moved on to undoing the button on his jeans.
The Milkoviches were a freaking huge family. Frank Gallagher may have fathered six children, but the Milkoviches could breed like rabbits.
And every one of them who was still alive and not in prison gathered in Mandy’s backyard almost weekly for a “barbeque” (read: kegger).
Mandy had finally dragged him to one and it had been a good party, so he kept showing up.
Oddly enough, kids liked him - and Milkoviches in general seemed to be drawn to him, anyway - so when Mandy’s mother had found an old sprinkler in the garage, it hadn’t been a surprise when the little hand of a blonde girl had grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him towards the water, nor when half a dozen others joined her. Giving Mandy an amused look, he had taken off his shirt - to the cheers of the kids around him, who knew it meant he was giving in - and handed it to her before letting them drag him off.
When he finally managed to escape, he trudged back to the deck, sighing tiredly as he leaned against it. He heard a giggle, and turned to see Mandy walking toward him, setting her plastic red cup down on a table as she got close. She had apparently changed into one of her skimpy bikinis while he had been occupied.
The deck wasn’t big, just enough to make Mandy a head taller than Ian as she came up behind him. So she easily wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning on her elbows resting on top of his shoulders and pressing her chest against his back.
“Mandy, what are you doing?”
“It’s fine.” She whispered in his ear, and she sounded drunk enough that Ian knew the red cup hadn’t been her first drink. “I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, remember? If we don’t act like it, someone’ll get suspicious, silly.”
She rested her cheek on the top of his head, and moved one of her arms. Then he felt a tiny finger gliding on his back and shoulders, gently tracing random shapes.
He let her lazily continue drawing on his skin until most of the guests had either left or were passed out in the yard, then turned so she tumbled into his arms and he was able to carry her to her bed.
(The next time he went over to the Milkovich house, it was empty aside from Mickey, and he didn’t let him get more than ten feet inside before slamming him against a wall and fucking him so hard that Ian worried they would leave a dent.)
Ian woke to light leaking in through the blinds and fingers against his chest. He groaned, feeling the fingers pause as their owner realized he was awake, then continue on their way.
“What are you doing?” He asked groggily, rubbing his eye.
“…You’ve got a lot of freckles, Gallagher.” Came Mickey’s answer.
“Why does everyone love them so much?” Ian questioned rhetorically, stretching his arms above his head, somehow without dislodging the wandering fingers. “You. Mandy. Kash.” He heard Mickey growl lowly and one of the fingers suddenly scratched down his chest, trailing over a nipple with the right amount of pressure to make his breath hitch and his back arch. “So fucking jealous…” He murmured, and the fingers pinched sharply.
He opened his eyes to see Mickey’s mouth twisted halfway between a smirk and a scowl (an expression he saw often on the other boy’s face, but was rarely a good thing) and felt a hand grab his wrists, pinning them to the bed. “Mandy likes your freckles, huh?” He said, making patterns out of the ones scattered on the red-head’s chest. “And Kash?” His nails trailed down Ian’s side, making the pale boy buck his hips as he moaned.
“Come on. I was teasing. Let it go and fuck me.” Ian snapped, grinding their hips together, but Mickey chuckled.
“No.” He said, moving back until he was straddling the top of Ian’s thighs, far enough away that Ian wouldn’t be able to easily get any friction, but not so far that he had to release Ian’s wrists. “I think I’m going to count them.” He said with a fucking evil smirk. Ian groaned as Mickey leaned forward, unpinning Ian’s legs but, as the red-head found out, somehow using his knees and legs to keep Ian from being able to thrust up easily. Then, there were fingers on his jaw, and Mickey pressed his lips against his forehead. To his embarrassment, it made Ian’s cock twitch, just because the kiss was more intimate - more romantic - than Mickey usually liked to be. “One.” The suddenly infuriating boy said. “Two. Three.”
Ian groaned again, twisting his head away from Mickey to glare at the wall. In response, the other boy shifted and bit Ian’s neck roughly. Ian arched his back, moaning almost obscenely, overreacting to the bite in an attempt to get Mickey’s attention away from his damned freckles.
“Hold still.” Mickey warned, breath hot and teasing against Ian’s ear. “You’ll make me lose count.” The red-head huffed, but forced his body still, hoping that if he stopped reacting, Mickey would get bored and move on to more interesting things than his freckles. Like the erection tenting his boxers.
Mickey slowly moved down his face (and he actually was counting every. single. one. Fuck.) and, as he finished on his cheeks, he apparently couldn’t resist Ian’s lips, because then his mouth was on Ian’s and his tongue filled Ian’s mouth, and Christ, was he about to get off on a kiss? The loud, almost desperate moan that escaped from his throat and the heat pooling in his belly made him think so. But then Mickey pulled away and he choked down a sob of frustration. He needed something against him, something more than the barely-there touch of Mickey’s finger touching each spot on his face.
“Please.” Spilled out, even as he tried to stop the words, when Mickey touched a freckle by the corner of his mouth and said another number. “Mickey, God. Please.”
He paused and, after a few seconds, the hand around his wrists loosed enough for Ian to pull his hands away. He immediately grabbed Mickey’s hips, grinding him down against his erection, feeling the other boy’s hands grab his arms on the first thrust and spasm as he repeated the motion. He could feel through the layers of thin cloth that Mickey was just as hard as he was.
Mickey was secretly glad that Ian had been the first one to break. For one, there were about ten billion of the little brown marks decorating his skin and even if they had been able to lie in bed all day, he wouldn’t have made it past Ian’s waist. For two, he was really fucking hard, and there was no way he would have been able to control himself for much longer with the red-head pinned under him. Suddenly, Ian wrapped an arm around his waist and took advantage of his surprise by flipping them over and - when the fuck had Gallagher managed to get lube and a condom?
He also didn’t notice when Ian quickly pulled his boxers down out of the way. He jumped when a finger coated in cold lube slipped inside him and it shocked him enough for a small cry to escape his mouth.
“So fucking hot,” Ian growled, lips moving against the skin of his neck. “When you let yourself make some damn noise.” He bit down harshly as he slid a second finger inside.
“Don’t-” Mickey managed, and it took a humiliating amount of effort not to stutter, especially as Ian started spreading his fingers.
“Don’t what?” Ian asked, pulling back just far enough that Mickey could see the bite on his neck, still an angry, vibrant red. “Leave any marks, not where people can see? You weren’t very careful.” (He knew Carl would be teasing Ian about Mandy liking to bite for days, despite the fact that, if any of them paid attention, they’d realize that Mandy was the girl Lip kept sneaking into his room at night when his brothers were sleeping elsewhere).
“Just do it.” Mickey ground out instead of answering. But Ian ignored him and slid another finger inside, curling and spreading them until Mickey unwillingly thrust his hips back, fucking himself on Ian’s fingers. A hand shot out and grabbed Ian’s wrist and pulled him out. “Fucking hell.” He growled, tugging at Ian’s boxers until the red-head slid them down and off his legs.
He heard Ian rip the condom open, and his hand gripped Mickey’s shoulder as he lined himself up, pressing him down into the bed. Mickey’s hands fisted in the sheets when he finally started to push in, because he wasn’t going to fucking cling to Gallagher, and somehow he always managed to forget how big Ian was, because it felt like the red-head just kept going impossibly deeper, every damn time.
A shudder ran through Ian and he choked on nothing but air as he finally bottomed out, hips flush against Mickey. He fell to his elbows, panting as he fought to keep himself still.
“Good?” He asked after a few moments, and Mickey nodded, swallowing even though his mouth was dry. And Ian started thrusting.
Despite his best efforts, short, quiet noises forced their way out of his throat in time to the thrusts once Ian moved and found the right angle. Ian moaned and started moving faster, thrusting harder. The teasing must have gotten him close, because then he slipped a hand between them and a few hard strokes later, Mickey’s vision went white as his cum coated their stomachs and Ian’s fist. Ian followed a thrust later, panting as he rode out his orgasm. Then he stilled, breath huffing against Mickey’s skin for a few moments before pulling out. He tied the condom off and through it in the basket next to the bed before collapsing beside Mickey with a sigh.
A few minutes later, Ian’s eyes cracked open as he felt fingers against his skin again, this time on his back. “Seriously, what-”
“They’re hot, okay?” Mickey cut him off.
There were a few moments of silence, and Ian reached out to drag a pillow over to him to he could shield his eyes from the sun by burying his face in it. “’Kay,” He finally responded, and Mickey hated to admit it, but he was just fucking cute. And Mickey was getting hard again. “Just let me know when you get tired of playing connect-the-dots and want to fuck some more.”
(It was a short wait.)