blue ; gallavich

25

There is so much I could've fucking done to prevent this and instead Ian got hurt and-

"Mickey." He says, and I can tell by the look he's giving me what his next words are going to be.

"I know. It's not my fault. I just-"

"No you couldn't have so stop. I..." He shakes his head at me, dismissing the thought, and I feel sympathy for him. It must be hard hearing from everyone else about something that happened to you and not being able to even remember it yourself. I'd lose my shit.

Ian tries to change the subject by giving me a mischievous grin and glaring suspiciously. Just as I'm about to say something he grabs my wrist and pulls me up from the grass. I don't struggle, but instead follow him to the L and onto the train. Did his bipolar just change or something? What the fuck? We sit next to each other, the only two people on the train at this hour in the night, and an awkward silence fills the air.

________________________________

I ask Ian where we're going a few times but he doesn't respond with words- or even an explanation- just with a devilish glance and I sadistic smile. I'm not sure what it is- maybe the mystery of it all or the way Ian's eyes glow in the pale moonlight or how he occasionally traces small circles onto my wrist with his narrow, long finger- but I feel my boxers start to rise up and realize that Gallagher's got me hard.

"Shit," I whisper, looking down at my pants, "go down." I tell the already-obvious bulge. I cuss under my breath and Ian turns around to see me covering up my area with my hands. He looks confused at first, but a smile creeps up and slides it's way into his lips as they spread across his face. "It's not funny, Ian. Unexpected woodies are not a laughing matter, Gallagher, so fuck off." I hiss viciously as Ian chuckles.

I feel it rise higher and grow harder as I groan in frustration. "Go. Down." I growl in annoyance. I look up at Ian and my cheeks flush pink and start to burn up with embarrassment. Oh no. Oh no no fucking no. Not only has Ian now seen me with a random hard on in the middle of- who the fuck knows- but now he's seen me blushing. I don't blush. That's not what I do.

"Woah, Mick. You blush any harder and your face might catch fire." He plays as I kick his leg.

"Fuck off. Fuck. Off." I glare at him, still blushing as I furiously scream at my brain to stop playing around with me. Okay, it was all cute or whatever at first but this shit isn't funny anymore! Stop it. Fucking stop!

Did I just talk to myself? I think I need to see a shrank...

Ian's eyes widen at the swell in my pants and I find myself thinking about all the ways I could fuck him right now. What the fuck is going on? Why am I hard? Why am I thinking about sex? Just an hour ago I was picturing-

Stop. Don't ruin it.

Before my fucked up train of thoughts can take over my sudden seductive urges, I scramble to push Ian against a large, wooden gate and passionately kiss him, pinning him against the barrier and roughly biting his lip. He moans into my mouth and I bite harder, claiming my territory, and I taste blood. My tongue explores his mouth as if it's been decades, and to me that's how the four months that we were separated felt. I take in every flavor, swirling my tongue around to grab all the sensations that Ian makes me feel. As I pull away I feel myself longing for more, but the good part is that my package is starting to cool off.

Fire Crotch had me burning up.

What the fuck did I just say?