#ensemble etiquette

Shut Up and Drive

Now complete and binge-able!

Summary: Ian Gallagher drives for a private car service, ferrying Chicago’s wealthy to and from appointments, dinners, work, casting calls, and business deals — no fuss, no drama. That is, until Mickey Milkovich, talent agent for his rising-star sister, storms into his backseat.

Chapters: 12/12

Words: 64, 070

read the fic here

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Thank you all so fucking much for supporting me through this. And thank you to @takeyourpillsbitchh for being my sounding board throughout this entire process and for the gorgeous mood board.

Thanks for the @galladrabbles prompt, @takeyourpillsbitchh 💕

Mickey stalked up the staircase. He was positively fuming.

He knew someone was in his room. With his husband. Doing unsavory things.

“Come over. Mickey is gone.”

Ian must have sent the text to him rather than his secret lover. How could Ian do this to him? What happened to ‘in sickness and in health’ and all of that shit?

Mickey slammed the door open, fists raised. But Ian was alone.

He was alone, sprawled out on their bed, completely naked, cock in hand.

“The fuck?” Mickey asked incredulously.

Thanks for the @galladrabbles prompt, @suzy-queued 🫶

Mickey tugged Ian into the Gallagher’s downstairs bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

His hands were on his husband in an instant, slipping underneath Ian’s shirt to rub at his chest.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he whispered.

Ian wasted no time. He sank to his knees and undid Mickey’s belt, sliding his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his aching cock. He swallowed it whole, and Mickey threw his head back and moaned.

“Can you two keep in down in there?” Lip called.

@dreamjupiter I love the prompt for this week! 💕 @galladrabbles

“C’mere,” Mickey says, pulling Ian into his arms and holding him close.

For a moment they just stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Then Mickey gently starts to sway.

“Mr. Gallagher,” Ian gasps, clutching his husband’s hips. “Are you trying to dance with me?”

Not even two weeks ago, Mickey had asserted that he absolutely wasn’t dancing at their wedding.

Mickey’s face reddens. “Been practicing. Mandy taught me. Knew you wanted to.”

A smile grows on Ian’s lips until he’s absolutely beaming. He places a kiss to the corner of Mickey’s mouth.

Thanks for the @galladrabbles prompt for the week, @sweetbee78! 🫶

“You don’t fuckin’ love me,” Mickey sighed, the frosty weather causing his breath to become visible. “Too fucked up, man.”

Ian sat down next to the dark haired man on the bench of the dugout and reached over to take his hand.

Mickey flinched away. “Don’t be fuckin’ gay.”

Ian laughed. Holding hands was the least gay thing they had done in this dugout. But Ian didn’t push.

“We’re both fucked up, Mick. Kind of makes us perfect for each other, don’t you think?”

Mickey scoffed, but Ian felt the unmistakable brush of Mickey’s pinky against his.

“Gallagher, how many fucking times do I have to ask you to put your mic where it goes?”

“How many times do I have to ask you to call my light cue correctly?”

“I am calling the cue correctly. You just can’t find your light for shit.”

“Shouldn’t the light find me?”

“They’re pre-programmed, you asshole.”

“C’mon, Mick. I know you’re my biggest fan.”

“I don’t understand,” Ian hesitated. “Why do all that?”

Mickey reached up a hand to rest on Ian’s cheek, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his tattoos just slightly. He lifted his body so that his face was above Ian’s.

“You’re under my skin, man.”

And then Mickey was kissing him, kissing him, kissing him. Not hungry, needy kisses like they were used to. Not kissing just as an avenue for getting off, but kissing because their bodies craved a touch. A connection.

read here

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thanks for the @galladrabbles prompt, @theluigianapurchase :)

“Fuck,” Ian panted, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Mickey’s hair.

The feeling of Mickey’s mouth on his cock was intoxicating and each time he hit the back of the man’s throat, he saw stars.

“Mouth is made for this,” Ian breathed.

And it was. Mickey’s entire body was made for Ian. His shoulders, his arms, his chest, his nipples (god, Ian loved those), his ass, his cock. All of it.

Ian bucked into Mickey’s mouth and wow. He was close. He wouldn’t last.