#ensembleetiquette

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

~~~

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.

Enjoy this smut with a plot 👀

Ian Gallagher was used to being surrounded by crying women. He’d grown up in a home with two sisters and, now that he was an adult, worked in a primarily female dominated profession. But the woman in front of him wasn’t just crying.

She was sobbing.

Her mascara was running down her cheeks and onto her white blouse, snot dripping from her nose. Ian handed her a tissue from the box on his desk.

“Please, Mr. Gallagher,” she wailed. “I am begging you to switch him out of my class. I can’t have another meeting with his dad. I can’t.”

Ian was sympathetic toward the woman. She was young, only a second year teacher at Lakeview Elementary, and Ian wanted her to last. He had seen too many new teachers burn out and lose their passion for teaching due to difficult students and uncompromising parents.

“Look, Bethany,” Ian began. “I know that Yevgeny has been really challenging for you.”

“Challenging?” Bethany scoffed. “That’s an understatement. He’s loud, he’s rude, he curses at me, and today he nearly cut a little girl’s hair off with children’s scissors.”

“Right,” Ian nodded. “And remind me how the meetings with his parents have gone so far?”

Panic washed over Bethany’s eyes. “Mr. Gallagher, his dad is just horrible. I can see where Yevgeny gets his behavior from. And I don’t know what happened to the mother, but it seems to be a single parent household.”

Ian took some notes on the legal pad on his desk. “So his father hasn’t been responsive to your concerns about Yevgeny’s behavior?”

“Not at all,” Bethany sniffed. “The last time he came in, he called me an ‘overpaid hall monitor’ and told me never to bother him at work ever again.”

“I see,” Ian sighed.

He’d been the principal of Lakeview for going on four years now, and he’d seen a lot of success in his time here. Teachers felt supported by him, parents thought he communicated well, and kids loved to give him high fives in the hallway. But this kid, Yevgeny Milkovich, had him stumped.

“I’m scared of him, Mr. Gallagher. I don’t know what to do.”

And fuck, he couldn’t make this poor girl handle a volatile father on her own. Not when she reminded him so much of his younger sister, Debbie.

“Tell you what, Bethany,” Ian began. “Why don’t you let me talk to him? Maybe I can get to the root of the problem.”

Bethany shot up from her seat. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Gallagher,” she exclaimed, smiling for the first time since she’d entered his office. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Head home for the day, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Once Bethany left his office, Ian heaved a sigh and settled in for a long evening of research into the records of Yevgeny Milkovich.

***

“Good morning, my favorite ginger,” greeted Lakeview’s front office receptionist, Danielle.

Danielle and Ian had been friends since high school. The two had even dated briefly before Ian had come out as gay. They’d drifted apart when Ian had enlisted and Danielle had gone off to college, but when they both moved back to the South Side and began working at Lakeview, they fell right back into an easy friendship.

“Can’t call your boss a ginger, Dani,” Ian teased, filling his coffee cup to the brim in the tiny staff kitchen.

“My apologies, Mr. Gallagher,” Danielle laughed. “Any meetings on the agenda today?”

Danielle was great at maintaining Ian’s busy schedule. He appreciated her help, his planning skills were seriously lacking.

“Just one. Mikhailo Milkovich at 10AM.”

Danielle almost dropped her coffee cup.

“Milkovich?” She asked. “Fuck, Ian. That fucker is gonna ruin your day for sure.”

Ian suppressed a groan. He was kind of hoping that Bethany was just being dramatic about Yevgeny’s father.

“I’ve heard he’s not the nicest guy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Ian assured her. “Just keep people out of my office while he’s in there. Not sure how long this conversation will end up being.”

Danielle gave a little salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re tense. You need to get laid.”

Ian grabbed a granola bar from the basket of snacks above the microwave, carrying it and his coffee down the hallway toward his office. “I’m leaving now, Danielle.”

“You’re really gonna need to get laid after your super fun meeting,” she called.

Ian just flipped her off and hoped that none of his other employees saw.

Truthfully, he was a little nervous for the meeting with Yevgeny’s father, despite the ‘cool as a cucumber’ facade that he tried to put on. Nobody wanted their principal to appear weak or unsure, so he tried to hold all of that shit inside, at least while at work.

His perusal of Yevgeny’s file yesterday had given him more questions than answers.

Just as Bethany had mentioned, it was definitely a single parent household. In fact, there was no mention of a mother anywhere on Yev’s file.

There were no medical diagnoses to speak of, no IEP or 504 plan in place, nothing.

But how on earth could a Kindergarten student create so much havoc in the classroom? He needed to get to the bottom of his so that he could retain Bethany as a teacher.

And so Bethany could retain her sanity, he thought.

He heard the man before he saw him.

“…meeting with the warden of this place, so just point me to the prick’s office.”

Fuck. This wasn’t going to be fun.

Moments later, Danielle was barging into his office without knocking, something she didn’t make a habit of doing unless there was an emergency. She looked frazzled.

“Your meeting is here,” she said urgently.

“You can send him in,” Ian said, taking a calming breath.

But that wasn’t necessary. An extremely pissed off man appeared from behind the receptionist, wild fury in his eyes.

And fuck, they were beautiful eyes.

The man was clearly younger than Ian’s 36 years, perhaps early 20s. His striking dark hair contrasted gorgeously with his pale skin and the arms peaking out from beneath his shirt were toned and muscular.

He wore a work uniform that was common at garages and auto mechanic shops. His brother, Lip, wore something similar.

The patch on his chest read, “Mickey.”

He slid past Danielle and into Ian’s office, paying the receptionist no mind.

“You in charge around here?” He asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Ian could see letters tattooed on the man’s knuckles, but he couldn’t quite make out what they spelled.

Ian waved to Danielle, giving her a look that said ‘get out while you still can’ before turning back to Mr. Milkovich.

“I’m Mr. Ian Gallagher. I’m the principal here at Lakeview. Please, have a seat.”

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, man,” Mr. Milkovich spat.

And alright. It was going to be like that, then.

Ian opened up his legal pad. He had a feeling that he’d be taking quite a few notes throughout this meeting.

“No problem,” Ian said. “Just thought you might be more comfortable seated. So, Mr. Milkovich-”

“Mickey,” the man interrupted.

It wasn’t an invitation to use the nickname due to casual friendship, but Ian’s formality definitely seemed to make the guy uncomfortable.

“Mickey,” Ian corrected. “Your son’s teacher has come to me with some behavioral issues and I was hoping the two of us could work together to correct the issue.”

Ian decided to get right to the point since the guy probably wasn’t all that interested in small talk and pleasantries.

“Woman is a pussy,” Mickey scoffed. “Yev is just a fuckin’ kid. You tellin’ me she can’t handle a six year old?”

“She has nineteen other six year olds in the class,” Ian explained. “It’s hard for her to give them all the attention they deserve when one child is demanding all of it.”

Mickey’s blue eyes grew even angrier. “You callin’ my kid an attention whore, asshole?”

“Of course not,” Ian diffused. “But some of Yev’s behaviors are really concerning. I’d like to discuss those with you today.”

Mickey shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hands still firmly planted on his hips.

“Concerning how? Like you’re worried about him?”

There it was. A flash of humanity across the man’s hard features as he discussed his son. He cared. That would make this easier.

“Yes,” Ian said. “Behaviors like this can really disrupt his learning and cause him to fall behind.”

Mickey pinched the space between his eyebrows, perhaps warding off a headache.

“Don’t fuckin’ want the kid to be behind,” he said.

“If you’d like to have a seat, we can work together to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Mickey sat, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“So,” Ian started. “Bethany Jones has reported to me that Yevgeny frequently interrupts lessons by swearing loudly at her and other students.”

“Kid has a big vocabulary,” Mickey defended. “So what?”

“That’s just not the language we encourage children to use at school. In fact, we discourage it pretty vehemently.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. God, they were gorgeous eyes.

“Look, man. You run a school on the South Side of Chicago. Pretty sure most of these kids hear worse at home.”

Ian thought of his own parents. He’d definitely heard every swear word in the English language by the time he was six. Hell, he could probably use them all in sentences by that point in his life.

“Be that as it may,” Ian argued. “We don’t allow that language here at school. We’ll have to escalate to more impactful disciplinary actions if it continues, such as suspensions from school.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. Ian could tell he’d hit a nerve.

“Suspensions? From Kindergarten?” Mickey threw his hands up in disbelief.

Ian could see that one of his hands spelled out ‘FUCK.’

“Man, I have to work every fuckin’ day. I got nowhere for him to go unless he’s here.”

Ian nodded. “Well, let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that, then. I looked through Yev’s file before our meeting-”

Mickey looked insulted. “You got a file? On my fuckin’ kid?”

“Every student has a file,” Ian assured. “Not just Yevgeny. But as I was saying, I was looking through his file and there was actually very little information there. Excuse me if it’s a sensitive topic, but is Yev’s mother in the picture?”

Mickey froze, not saying anything for a long moment.

Ian let the question hang in the air. Sometimes uncomfortable silence was necessary.

“Haven’t seen that bitch since she pushed him out,” Mickey finally said. “Probably workin’ as a hand whore in a different state by now.”

So Mickey was a single father. Ian truly commended him for maintaining his status as a parent, even when Yevgeny’s mother was out of the picture. It was definitely more than Frank ever did.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Ian said. “Well, how are things at home for Yev? Is he safe? Happy?”

Mickey shot out of his chair, sending it toppling over. “The fuck are you tryin’ to say?”

Ian stood as well. “Nothing, Mr. Milkovich. But it’s important to discuss Yevgeny’s home life if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issue.”

“His home life is fine,” Mickey spat. “I take care of my kid, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for my old man growing up.”

Mickey looked panicked. Ian crossed out from behind his desk, hands raised to his chest in surrender. Ian was tall, muscular, and bulky. He knew that he could appear a little intimidating at his full height.

“Are you fuckers tryin’ to take Yev away from me? Are you hopin’ to find some shit goin’ on at home so you can pop him in the system? Is that it?”

“No, of course not,” Ian sputtered, not wanting to work the man up. “We don’t ever aim to separate children from their families-”

“I don’t believe you,” Mickey asserted, taking a step toward Ian. “And I won’t let you take my kid.”

“We are not trying to take-”

But Ian wasn’t able to finish his sentence, because suddenly Mickey’s hands were grasping Ian by the collar of his shirt. For such a short man, he was strong.

“Yev is my kid,” he growled. “And he’s stayin’ with me. He’s always been with me.”

Ian brought his hands up to grip at Mickey’s forearms.

“Mr. Milkovich,” Ian said, attempting to calm the man. “We are not in the habit of taking children away from their parents. We just want to make sure Yevgeny is safe and successful in all parts of his life.”

Mickey shoved Ian. Hard.

The redhead’s back hit the ugly, beige office wall, knocking a plaque off its hook. It clattered to the ground. Mickey’s hands, still on Ian’s shirt collar, gripped tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” he whispered. “Don’t fuckin’ believe you. Gonna kick your ass if you think you can take my kid away from me.”

Mickey’s face was so close to Ian’s now, the man’s breath hot against him.

Ian raised his eyebrows at the man. “You really wanna do this here? At an elementary school?”

Mickey leaned in closer. “Sure do, Mr. Gallagher.”

Ian’s jaw clenched. Well, alright then

Mickey was strong, but Ian was stronger.

With one swift motion, Ian grabbed Mickey’s wrist, twisting it just enough to throw the man off balance. Ian slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest, sending him careening into the edge of Ian’s desk. Finally, Ian hooked his foot behind Mickey’s leg and sent him crashing to the floor with a thud.

It took the man a moment to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey grunted, looking up at Ian from the ground. “The fuck, man?”

Ian stood over him, eyes blazing. “Was military before I went into education.”

Mickey propped himself up on his elbows. “You just like to hop around to different government labor camps?”

Ian shrugged. “I like to help people. You done being a dick?”

He reached his hand out to help Mickey up from the floor, but instead of taking it, Mickey used it as an opportunity to yank Ian down to the floor as well.

Ian’s back hit the floor, and the wind was knocked out of him just long enough for Mickey to swing his leg over Ian’s chest, pinning his arms to his sides.

Ian could feel a lot of things in this position on the ground. For example, he could feel the solid floor on his back. He could feel the cold tile on his neck.

And he could feel Mickey against his chest.

And Mickey was very, very hard.

For a moment, they just stared at one another, panting. Ian’s chest rose and fell with each breath, every single inhale causing Mickey’s hardness to dig farther into his skin.

Without warning, Mickey reached behind his body and palmed at Ian’s crotch. His eyes grew wide and a smirk fell over his lips.

Because Ian was hard too.

Mickey raised his eyebrow at the man underneath him, as though asking a question.

Fuck. Ian couldn’t do this.

Couldn’t fuck the parent of a student.

In the middle of a school day.

But he was so fucking hard and it had been so, so long since he’d been with anyone. And Mickey was staring at him with this look in his eye, this ravenous look like the man wanted to devour him. And he wanted to be devoured.

“Fuck,” he whispered. And that was all the permission Mickey needed, because suddenly his uniform shirt was gone, thrown across the room and forgotten.

The man’s chest was toned and pale and beautiful and Ian wanted desperately to touch it, but his arms were still pinned down by Mickey’s legs.

Mickey must have realized that Ian’s clothes wouldn’t come off if he was still pinned to the floor, so he rolled off of Ian and roughly began undoing the buttons of Ian’s collared white shirt.

Once Ian’s buttons were taken care of, he shrugged the shirt off and craned his neck toward Mickey, eager to taste those plump lips. Mickey stopped him, roughly shoving at Ian’s shoulders as he approached.

“I don’t fuckin’ kiss,” he said harshly. “Not what I’m tryin’ to do here.”

“What are you trying to do here?” Ian asked, a little miffed that Mickey had stopped him from sucking, licking, tasting his gorgeous mouth.

“Want you to fuck me, Mr. Principal,” Mickey commanded, unbuttoning Ian’s slacks and sliding the zipper down. “And I want it fuckin’ rough. Can you handle that?”

Oh, he could handle that.

Ian’s hand shot out, clamping roughly around Mickey’s wrist. He shoved the other man’s hand into his unbuttoned dress pants. He wanted Mickey to feel not only how hard he was, but also how big he was. Ian was proud of his cock. It was a fan favorite among all of the men he’d fucked in his lifetime.

“The question is, can you handle it?” Ian asked as Mickey explored the inside of his pants with his fingers.

A smile ghosted across Mickey’s lips. “I’ve had bigger, tough guy.”

Ian removed Mickey’s hand and shoved him down until the other man’s back was flat on the floor. He was used to men fawning over his dick. Begging for his nine inches.

He guessed he’d just have to make Mickey beg for it another way.

Ian shucked off Mickey’s pants and boxers in one go, chucking his clothing and shoes away. He took a moment to look at Mickey.

Fuck.

His cock wasn’t as long as Ian’s, but it was thick and beautiful and already leaking.

“You gonna stare at it all day or what, man?”

Ian lowered himself between Mickey’s legs, looking up at the man.

“I’m going to absolutely ruin you, Mr. Milkovich,” he warned.

“Whatever, man. You gonna talk all day or are you gonna - oh fuck!”

Ian sank his mouth over Mickey’s cock, taking him fully into his mouth and slowly, slowly, slowly coming back up, swirling his tongue over the tip.

Mickey tasted incredible. He licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, pleased when he glanced up and noticed Mickey biting at his lower lip.

“So you don’t kiss, huh?” Ian asked teasingly, grazing his teeth gently over the head of Mickey’s cock.

“Don’t fuckin’ kiss,” Mickey confirmed breathlessly, bucking up into Ian’s mouth.

But Ian wasn’t interested in getting Mickey off this way. “Does that just apply to your mouth?” Ian probed. “Or does that apply to…other places as well?”

Ian touched a finger underneath Mickey’s balls, dragging it down. Teasing. Questioning.

Mickey moaned.

Fucking moaned.

The sound of it made Ian’s cock twitch and fuck he wanted to be balls deep inside of the man. Wanted to give it to him so hard.

Ian shoved Mickey’s knees up to his chest, which the other man eagerly held on to with his hands. With his legs successfully out of his way, Ian turned his attention back to the gorgeous man practically splayed out in front of him.

He sucked teasingly at his balls, earning a satisfied groan from his partner before lowering himself and licking softly at Mickey’s crack.

“Keep those legs up,” he instructed, pulling Mickey’s cheeks apart with his hands and marveling at the man’s pink hole.

Goddamn, the things he was going to do to it.

He ran his tongue along the rim languidly, placing gentle, sucking kisses around it. And by the time he sank his tongue inside of the man, Mickey was practically writhing.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, knees still firmly pressed to his chest.

And yeah. That was the plan.

He fucked his tongue in and out of him, stroking Mickey’s cock lazily with one hand.

Mickey was hungry for it.

He reached his hands down and spread himself apart, allowing Ian to plunge his tongue even deeper.

“Can’t wait to have that cock in me,” Mickey whispered as Ian worked at him with his mouth. Ian removed himself from Mickey’s hole, earning a whine from the man.

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” Ian chided, spitting into his hand and coating two fingers with the saliva.

And before Mickey could answer, Ian was thrusting two fingers into Mickey’s slick hole.

“Christ!” Mickey cried, his body clenching as Ian began to finger him open.

“You said you wanted it rough, didn’t you?” Ian remarked. “You need me to slow down? You want me to give it to you gentle?”

Mickey bit down on his bottom lip so hard that Ian thought he might draw blood.

“Fuck no,” he hissed. “Not a pussy.”

Ian smiled. “Good.”

He pulled his fingers almost entirely out of Mickey’s hole before ramming them in once more, earning a low growl from his partner.

He scissored his fingers, fucking him open.

And god, Mickey’s face looked almost pornographic. Eyes closed, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

“Pretty tight for someone who takes dick bigger than mine on the regular,” Ian taunted, crooking his fingers and searching for something to really make Mickey moan.

“Just ‘cause you got a big dick doesn’t mean you know you to use it,” Mickey said through clenched teeth.

Ian felt himself become entirely feral, needing desperately to prove to his momentary lover that he did know how to use it.

He removed his fingers from Mickey’s hole and stood, pulling the naked man up to his feet.

“What the fuck are you-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian growled, grabbing a fistful of Mickey’s dark hair. He swept his arm over his desk, knocking over files, notepads, and cups of writing utensils.

There was no way Danielle hadn’t heard that from her desk, but Ian was too horny to care.

He placed one hand on Mickey’s upper back and dug the other into the man’s stark white hip, practically slamming the man down onto the desk.

He saw his knuckle tattoos clearly now. FUCK U-UP, they read.

As Mickey lay there, chest heaving and ass exposed, Ian kicked off his own pants, boxers, and shoes. The only thing remaining on his body was his loosened tie, which hung around his neck. He started to remove that as well, but thought better of it, leaving it on.

It might come in handy later, he rationalized.

His own cock was throbbing, leaking. He pumped it a few times, spreading the precome down his aching shaft.

“You gonna fuck my ass or jerk off on it?” Mickey asked, peering back at Ian, cheek still firmly pressed on the desk.

Ian placed his hand in front of Mickey’s mouth.

“Spit,” he demanded.

Mickey did, saliva pouring out of his mouth and onto Ian’s palm.

Fuck, that turned him on. He’d like to come in that pretty mouth and watch it leak down Mickey’s chin.

But not now.

Not today.

He pumped his cock once, twice, three more times until he was evenly coated in Mickey’s saliva, and then he was pressing the tip of his cock against Mickey’s hole.

“Gonna make sure you remember this for days after I’m through with you,” Ian said, admiring the arch of Mickey’s back as he teased him.

“I’m gettin’ bored down here, Gallagher,” Mickey griped, pressing his ass back against the redhead’s groin. “I’m startin’ to think you’ve never done this before.”

It would be incorrect to say that Ian sank into Mickey.

It would be more accurate to say he fucking split the man in two.

He drove into the man like it was the last thing he’d ever do, fingers clutching at his hipbones, knowing that he’d leave finger shaped bruises there.

He claimed him like a goddamn prize and fuck he felt so good.

He pounded into Mickey, grunting with each wild thrust and reveling at the sound of Mickey’s soft, pleasured cries.

“Anybody else ever given it to you this good?” Ian asked breathlessly, maintaining his rhythm. He wouldn’t ease up on Mickey. Not now. Not until he couldn’t help but scream his name.

“That, fuck, all you, ungh, got?”

Mickey’s sentences were broken, his breathing labored. But he seemed to get off on the banter, the game of it all.

“Had it better than this, Jesus Fucking Christ, hundreds of times,” he continued.

The man just didn’t know when to quit, it seemed.

Ian backed himself almost completely out of the man before slamming his cock back inside of him.

“That hard enough for you?” He asked before removing himself and slamming in again.

Mickey didn’t speak, only whined.

Ian repeated this motion again, again, again, again until Mickey was writhing and panting and groaning beneath him.

And then a knock sounded on the office door.

“Mr. Gallagher,” Danielle called. “Everything alright in there? I heard a crash.”

Fuck.

He couldn’t stop now, not when he finally had Mickey rendered speechless beneath him.

He felt Mickey tense around his cock.

Ian removed his tie from his neck and shoved it into Mickey’s mouth, muffling his cries.

“Be fucking quiet,” he whispered into his ear.

Ian resumed an easy, rhythmic pace with his hips before answering.

“All good in here, Danielle,” he called. “Accidentally dropped something.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “Do you need me to come in?”

“No,” Ian called hastily. “No, we’re all good in here. We’ll be done soon.”

Mickey had relaxed into their rhythm again, placing his hands on the edge of the desk to meet Ian’s thrusts with ones of his own.

FUCK U-UP. FUCK U-UP. FUCK U-UP.

“Alright,” Danielle sighed. “I’ll just be at my desk, then.”

The sound of her high heels clicking down the hallway were music to Ian’s ears. He wrenched the tie out of Mickey’s mouth, his thigh muscles burning, begging for a break that Ian wouldn’t allow until he and his partner were both fully satiated.

“Kind of liked the tie in my mouth,” Mickey admitted, looking back at Ian with mischievous eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, slapping at Mickey’s ass cheek playfully. “I can think of some other ways we could use it.”

“Surprise me,” Mickey goaded.

Ian unfolded the tie, now damp with Mickey’s spit, and looped it around the man’s neck, catching both ends with his hands.

“That’s more like it,” Mickey approved, bringing a hand up to feel the fabric taut against his neck.

“Gonna make you come like this,” Ian spoke. “Gonna bring you right to the edge with my tie on your throat.”

“Please,” Mickey begged, and Ian guessed he had run out of snarky material for the morning.

Ian sped his thrusts, taking from the man like he was collecting on a debt, positively devouring him from the inside out.

And Ian knew, knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Gonna come in that perfect ass,” he murmured, tugging gently on the tie around Mickey’s neck.

Mickey made a low, throaty noise of encouragement and fuck every little noise the man made was so hot, so sexy.

He felt a familiar tightening in his balls, and he knew it was coming, coming, coming.

“Fuck, gonna come,” he panted, tugging at the tie. He watched as Mickey reached around and began pumping at his own cock, hasty and desperate.

He gave one final thrust, one final plunge into Mickey’s tight heat and then he was coming, spilling into Mickey’s hole.

Maybe it was Mickey’s pumping of his own cock, maybe it was the pressure of the tie around his neck, maybe it was the feeling of Ian filling him up, but suddenly Mickey was coming too.

He cried out, and Ian pulled the tie even tighter, nearly cutting off Mickey’s ability to make noise at all as he painted Ian’s desk with his come.

Ian released his hold on the tie, allowing it to fall to the desk below Mickey. The pair of them stayed there for a few moments, blissed out and panting.

“Fuck, that was good,” Mickey breathed. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Gallagher.”

“There’s a lot more where that came from,” Ian promised, removing his cock from Mickey’s ass and tossing some tissues from his desk at the man to clean himself up.

The comedown was quick, the pillow talk was nonexistent, and they were both redressed within minutes. “Don’t fuckin’ call me in here to talk about my kid ever again,” Mickey said as he made for for door.

“But you can fuck me whenever you feel like it,” he continued, turning back to smirk at Ian. “Give me a call sometime. I’m sure you have my number in that fuckin’ file.”

And then he was gone. But Ian was sure Mickey would think about him, was positive he’d be practically limping for the next week.

Ian took a few minutes to clean the mess from his desk, replace all of the items that had fallen during their ‘activities,’ and primp himself in the mirror to make sure that he didn’t look like he’d just fucked a parent within an inch of their lives.

He even refastened his now damp tie around his neck.

When he stepped out into the general office area to inform Danielle that he was now available to take incoming phone calls and meetings, she looked at him like he’d grown two heads.

“Ya know,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “When I said you needed to get laid, I didn’t mean you should fuck Mikhailo Milkovich in your office.”

Ian’s eyes grew wide. “Christ, Dani,” he said, looking around the office. Thankfully, no one else was within earshot.

“What do you…I mean how did you…”

Ian couldn’t quite get the words out.

Danielle only laughed, swatting her friend on the arm.

“Oh, Mr. Gallagher,” she cackled. “Your pants are on backwards.”

read on ao3 here

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.

Day 1: Sports

@gallavichthings thank you for hosting this event!

I’ve been working on this cross stitch for just over a week to pay homage to one of my favorite Gallavich scenes in the dugout. I stepped way out of my comfort zone to freehand a lot of this without an exact pattern. And of course I had to photograph it on site at a local dugout in my community.

“I’m fucked for life anyway, man.”

“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.”