Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Good morning class!”

There is a grumbled response from a few of the goody-two-shoes students who feel responsible to make the professor feel appreciated. Mickey arrived at class early. Today is the first day of his sophomore year and he doesn’t necessarily want to make a good impression, but he wants to get a good grade. Unfortunately, his scholarships are dependent on his grades, meaning he has to put in actual effort unlike high school.

Class is scheduled to begin in a few minutes, but the classroom is empty. He glances around and notices that most of the students appear to avoid each other. He wonders if, like himself, many are finally taking their first true major course. Psychology 242 is his first true psychology class after 111 and 112.

“Well, some of your faces are familiar to me while some of you are new! I look forward to getting to know all of you, but let’s make this first class more interesting. I want you to turn-”

The door squeaks open and a rush of pheromones enter the room. Mickey doesn’t bother to turn and look at this student entering the classroom. He detests students who come in late, especially on the first day of class. Really? He thinks, you couldn’t be bothered to get your ass out of bed and show up on time?

“Sorry! Practice ran late!” This man’s voice is interesting to say the least. Mickey isn’t sure if he can place it or not. It may sound familiar, but he just can’t remember. The man’s steps echo in the large lecture room as he bounds down the stairs.

“No problem Ian, go ahead and take a seat.” Mickey feels irritation pull at him. Fuck the professor for letting this guy off easy. He knows it wouldn’t fly if it were him.

The intruder—Ian, his mind corrects—makes his way down the stairs and stops right next to Mickey. He has to fight his urge to look up. He doesn’t want to give this guy any more attention. The seat right next to Mickey is suddenly filled by a six foot, incredibly muscular redheaded man. He tries his best not to glance over. He really, really does. But Mickey’s curiosity gets the best of him and he glances over. Sitting right next to him is Ian Gallagher. Ian Gallagher, the star hockey player of Miami University.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. God how Mickey wishes it was anyone but Ian fucking Gallagher. Mickey hates hockey don’t get him wrong, but Mickey has been lusting after Ian Gallagher for his entire college career. Ian gives him a grin that is nothing other than goofy. His stupid, omega heart skips a beat and Mickey turns his head back to the board.

Ian Gallagher is the golden child of Miami University. His photo is all over the school’s homepage, especially their sports tab. Mickey has no interest in sports, but when he was applying for college, Ian’s face was the first he saw. But it wasn’t just there on the website. No, Mickey’s friends insisted on going to every hockey game their freshman year. Mickey stays, of course, in the omega dorm. His roommate, Liza Fischer, is an unmated omega insistent on fucking every alpha she can before college is over. Liza was a freshman as well when they met, and she made it her job to bring Mickey out of his shell.

Liza’s one goal was to fuck every hockey player her freshman year and she almost made it, if it wasn’t for Ian Gallagher. He showed no interest in her, which of course pissed her off. Not only did he show no interest, he didn’t even seem to notice her. He didn’t notice anyone, to be precise. Liza and their friends made fun of him constantly for being an impotent alpha.

“So, as I was saying, I want this first class to be more interesting than the rest. So, my first assignment to you is to pair up and discuss your life story with your partner. I want you to get to know your partner on a deep, personal level. I will have you turn in a short, two page essay on your partner for the next class. So, make sure you have plenty of information to write that many pages on your new friend. Go!” The professor, who has yet to introduce himself, speaks loudly and with confidence.

The idea of pairing up stresses Mickey because none of his friends are taking this class. In fact, none of his friends are even in his major. He has no idea-

“You want to pair up?” Oh god, not Ian fucking Gallagher asking him to pair up. He blinks at the blank board in front of him and swallows hard. Then he nudges his nose with a tatted knuckle and grunts into his hand.

“Uh…” He trails off. What does he even say to that? He glances over at Ian and sees him grinning stupidly at him. How does anyone say no to a face like that? A stupidly handsome face. “S…Sure.” He isn’t sure how, but Ian’s smile gets even wider.

Ian pulls out a notebook and a pen and says, “Alright, hit me with it.”

Mickey can’t bring himself to look at Ian for longer than a couple seconds. He feels like he’s going insane. How can someone smell this good? This stupid fucker smells like he’s off his suppressants and it’s driving Mickey up a fucking wall.

“I, uh, ‘m not sure how in depth I’m supposed to go.” He admits while staring down the professor.

“Oh jeez, however deep you want, I guess. But at least give me something to work with. I gotta write a whole essay on you.” His voice is so jovial it almost pisses Mickey off.

“Yeah, um, okay.”

“What’s your name, first?”

Fuck. Mickey forgot this dude doesn’t even know who he is. He hasn’t been crazily lusting over him for a whole fucking year. He chews his lip for a second before responding “Mickey.”

“Great! Mickey, I’m Ian.” I know, he doesn’t say. “Mickey tell me your life story.”

Mickey feels panic rise in his throat. He knows that there is no way Ian knows he’s an omega. No way, because no one but his friends know that. He’s so careful with suppressants, birth control, and alpha wash that no one could possibly know. So how does he tell Ian about Terry, Svetlana, and all the shit that followed without letting that information slip?

“Uh… Yeah. I don’t know where to start,” He chuckles nervously, “I was born and raised in the southside of Chicago. I’m the second youngest, only my sister Mandy is younger than me. Um, I have four older brothers, Iggy, Colin, Jamie, and Joey.”

“Are they all alphas?” Ian interrupts to ask.

“Not sure how that’s relevant.”

“Well, if one of them were an omega, you’d be pretty overprotective right?”

Good. He assumes I’m an alpha.

“They’re all alphas. Mandy, too.”

Ian whistles a low noise, “Wow, a family full of alphas, huh?”

Not quite, he thinks. “I guess. But anyway. I dropped out of high school sophomore year only to have my sister talk me into going back a year later. I did absolutely shit in school, actually. I think my GPA was like 1.9 or something.”

Ian’s eyebrows shoot up. “How the hell are you here then?” He laughs out.

“I was getting there, fuck face. Anyway-”

Ian laughs, interrupting him again. “Fuck off.” He goads back.

“Anyway,” he emphasizes, “I was talked into, by Mandy again, to take the SAT and ACT. I totally blew it off, but she signed me up anyway. I went, just to appease her, and actually did fuckin good. Not to toot my own horn or what the fuck ever. I didn’t think anything of it, but the school counselor said that I could probably get into college with those scores. I wanted to get the hell out of my house anyway, so I said why the fuck not. I applied kinda like a joke, because I really didn’t think I’d get in. But here I am.”

“That’s not a lot of info.” Ian responds pensively. He’s quickly jotting things down in his notebook. “That really won’t give me two pages of information. I need more, sorry.”

“You know, for a guy who came in late you seem to care a lot about your grade on this assignment.” Ian looks up and grins at him, catching Mickey staring at him—drooling over him is more like it, he thinks.

Ian shoves his shoulder lightly, “Fuck off. Tell me more. Why’d you want to get out of your house so bad?”

How could he possibly explain this in a way that doesn’t expose himself?

“Uh… it’s a long story.” He tries to leave it at that, but Ian keeps pushing.

“Perfect, that gives me plenty information for my essay.”

Mickey clams up quickly. He turns his attention back to the board, back to the professor who is sitting at a desk typing away on his laptop. “No.” He says simply.

“No?”

“No, I’m not talking about it.”

“Awe, why not Mickey? I thought we were friends.” Ian is clearly kidding, but Mickey thinks he wants to be more than friends. He wants this man to fuck his brains out—something Liza doesn’t think he’s capable of.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“No thanks?”

“No. Thanks.” He reiterates.

“Come on Mickey. Please. I need something, anything to write about.”

He doesn’t feel bad for Ian. He doesn’t even care about this man’s grade. But Ian’s tone is fucking him up. God, he wants to please this stupid alpha so much.

“Fuck off, whatever.” How does he explain this?

Ian grins and settles into his chair, pen poised for note taking.

“I’m gay. Big ole ‘mo. I like men and my dad, an alpha too, is crazy homophobic. He caught me with a man when I dropped out of school and pistol whipped me. He then called in a prostitute and forced me to fuck her at gun point. He was so disgusted with me and who I am that he was taken to jail once my sister walked in on us.” Mickey leaves out the part that this is where his dad finds out he’s an omega.

Ian’s face is blank as he scribbles all this down, “So, what, you were fucking a male omega and your dad flipped? Who cares?”

Mickey snorts a laugh and doesn’t bother to correct him, “My fucking dad apparently.”

Ian grins at him, “Nice laugh.” He sounds genuine but Mickey doesn’t want to feel anything from it. He doesn’t want his heart to race or his breath to catch but fuck him he can’t help it. Ian is so gorgeous—and so strong, his mind chimes in—that Mickey’s omega can’t help but react.

“Fuck off.” He grumbles. Ian only smiles wider and chuckles at him.

“Anyway. What happened after that?”

“Nothing. I went back to school to avoid him. Then I applied here to get the hell out of there. What about you, red? It’s your turn to tell me your trauma.”

“Wait! What’s your major? I think I’ll need that.”

Mickey tries not to groan, “Psychology with a co-major of Art Therapy.”

“Holy shit.” Ian looks impressed, not that it matters to him.

“What’s yours?”

“Social Work.”

“Cool. Anyway, go ahead.” He nods at Ian, motioning for him to spill his guts.

“There’s really not much to say. I grew up with a lot of siblings. My older sister, older brother, younger sister, younger brother. Like you.”

“Parents? They’re both normal?”

“I guess. My parents are… well… kinda rich? We live in Cincinnati, I went to Archbishop High—an all Alpha school—for hockey, and uh… that’s really it.”

“You’re boring. There’s got to be more.” Mickey presses. There has to be more than just an annoying rich boy who’s never experienced hardship.

Ian looks nervous. Not overly so, but enough that Mickey catches it flash over his face. “Yeah, I guess. You told me your shit so I kinda have to tell you mine, yeah?”

“It’s only fair.” Mickey agrees. He, selfishly, wants to know everything about Ian. Mostly the nasty parts of him, the ugly parts he wants to hide.

“My mom is, uh, bipolar. She’s been in and out of the hospital, on and off medication, and she… passed it on to me. No one else in my family… just me.”

Mickey is silent for a second. What do you say when someone confesses something like that? “Okay. What about you? How has this affected you?”

“Well… my mom was in and out of my life when I was a kid. She was either in the hospital or out fucking off. My dad was an alcoholic during that time. He’d get up, drink, go to work, come home, drink, go to bed. My oldest sister, Fiona, practically raised us. Frank—my dad—provided the cash but Fiona did all the heavy lifting.”

“You said you got bipolar from your mom. What’s that like for you?”

Ian scoffs, “Man, you don’t wanna know.”

“I mean, I need a good grade on this. My scholarship depends on me getting a good grade on this… so yeah I do wanna know.”

Ian smiles at him and Mickey doesn’t know why. “Glad you care so much about me.”

“Why would I? I don’t know you. Isn’t that the point of this?”

Ian grunts a laugh, “I guess so. Yeah well… I mean, we found out when I was in high school. Originally wanted to be an army rat, I was in ROTC and shit. But uh… I went manic. Like… became a stripper for a second.”

Mickey balks, “Stripper? You’re an alpha?”

“Yeah. People like that. Omegas like that.”

Mickey agrees silently. He would like that. Ogling Ian in tiny little shorts. He can practically see it now. Fuck, Mickey thinks.

“Okay, anyway, you’re manic. Now what?”

“Fiona notices and she takes me to the hospital. I’m a minor so she can admit me without my consent. They put me on pills, I get out, the rest is history.”

Mickey grits his teeth as he observes Ian. One doesn’t go into psychology without learning how to analyze someone. Ian is almost, sort of, kind of lying. “Nah, I don’t buy that. What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“You don’t look like that’s it, is all.” Mickey shrugs.

“Yeah. I mean, like my mom I’ve been in and out of the hospital. Been on and off my meds. The usual.” It’s Ian’s turn to shrug haphazardly.

“Okay, the usual.” Mickey scoffs out, not negatively. “I don’t know much about bipolar disorder, honestly, but I guess that’s what this class is for.” Ian passes him another big goofy smile. “For a guy with bipolar disorder you’re awfully fuckin smiley.” He observes and Ian shrugs, smile still plastered to his face.

“I don’t really talk about it much. But it felt good to say something to a complete stranger.” Mickey nods, he understands that. He hates telling people about what happened with his dad. Hates that he was ever that weak. But Ian is right, it’s nice to tell someone who knows nothing about you.

They sit in an awkward silence after that. There isn’t much left to say seeing as they don’t know each other. “What year are you?” Ian asks.

“Oh. Sophomore. You’re a junior, right?”

Ian looks at him with surprise, “Uh, yeah.”

“Sorry, I just… your face is all over the school website. You’re the star hockey player here so I just kinda figured.” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but Mickey is hoping Ian hasn’t caught on that his dick gets hard just thinking about him.

Ian smiles, almost looking relieved that Mickey isn’t stalking him, “Oh, right. I forgot about that.” He lets out a chuckle and Mickey almost smiles. Back to the awkward silence they go, he supposes.

They sit there for maybe another five minutes, Mickey picking at his cuticles while they wait. “Alright class, that’s enough! As I said, I want you to turn in your two-page essay next class over your partner. Ideally, twenty minutes was enough time for you to learn plenty about them. Please, settle down and we will begin lecture.”

Mickey settles in, trying not to notice Ian who’s glancing at him. He can’t seem to help himself, though, turning to meet his gaze, almost challenging him, “What?” He whispers.

Ian grins, “Nothin.”

--

The class is long but interesting. Mickey has always had a deep interest in mental illnesses, and he knows this class will deliver. As he’s walking out, though, he feels someone tap his shoulder. Mickey’s stomach fills with dread. Dread and lust because he can fucking smell Ian behind him. That asshole exudes pheromones.

He turns around and sure enough there is Ian fucking Gallagher staring at him with a stupid smile on his face. “Hey. I figured we should exchange numbers. Just… you know, just in case I need more information on ya to write this essay.”

Mickey doesn’t know what he expected Ian to say, but this wasn’t it. He blinks a couple of times, processing, and then pulls out his phone. “Yeah, okay. Here, give me yours.” They switch phones and Mickey puts his information in. Mickey PSY242, 708-244-9080.

He hands it back to Ian who looks down. “Your last name is Psy 242?” He asks in amusement.

“I don’t know how many Mickey’s you know, figured I’d specify.” He explains defensively.

Ian just smiles at him, “You’re the only one so far. But thanks anyway.” With that Ian hands back his phone and is off in the opposite direction.

As Mickey walks back to his dorm, he wonders if he should tell Liza about his encounter with Ian. She’s still pretty adamant that Ian Gallagher is the worst alpha out there. So, maybe not, he thinks.

Surprisingly, before Mickey can even make it back, his phone vibrates with a text from Ian Gallagher, as his phone states.

Hey

Just wanted to say thanks for not judging me in class. I don’t think most people would react like you did.

Mickey’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s nervous. Why the fuck is he nervous?

Fuck, Mickey thinks, I can’t be getting horny from just a couple texts.

Yeah no problem.

Is all he can manage to type back. Again, he’s surprised when his phone buzzes once more. He wasn’t exactly opening up a conversation.

We should get lunch sometime.

No. Thank you very much, but no fucking way, he thinks. He’s practically vibrating out of his skin as his omega preens in pleasure. This dude has no idea I’m an omega and it’s gonna stay that way.

So he doesn’t respond and tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He walks up the stairs and uses his key to open the room to his dorm. Liza is there and sitting at her desk, probably working on homework. She’s in the honors program, studying Pre-Med. He feels bad for her. Only sometimes, though, she did choose this life for herself.

She looks up, “Hey, how was your first class of the day.”

“Hey. It was… good, I guess. We jumped right into lecture.” Leaving, purposefully, the part where he and Ian Gallagher learned each other’s trauma out.

“That sucks. I hate when professors don’t just go over the syllabus. Anyway, there’s a frat party tonight… wanna go?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, setting her pen down to turn around in the chair.

“Depends… can I bring someone home?”

She looks at him funny, “What? You!? First of all, what has gotten into you? Second, where am I supposed to go?”

“Nothing. I’m just horny is all. Also, just ask Olivia or someone if you can stay with them.” He snorts and shakes his head. All this bullshit because that damn Gallagher got under his skin. But his omega is dying for release and there’s no way he can get through without it.

Speak of the devil, he thinks as his phone vibrates once again. He doesn’t check it, though. Not right away, anyway.

“Okayyyyy… so you’re just, what, looking for some dick?”

“Yeah. I used to do it a lot freshman year and you never complained.”

“Well, yeah, because I never had a reason to! Jasmine isn’t rooming alone this year so I don’t have an extra bed to sleep on.”

Mickey shrugs and fishes out his phone, “Not my problem.”

Sorry

Was that too forward?

Mickey shakes his head at the weird vibe he’s getting. He doesn’t like Ian inviting him out. Don’t get him wrong, his omega sure as hell wants to go, but logically Mickey knows it is a bad idea.

Nah. I’m not interested, though. I got plenty of friends.

So you can’t have one more? The response is immediate, which makes something in Mickey warm.

He leaves it at that, though. He doesn’t want to respond and make the whole texting thing a thing. They aren’t friends, they never will be. Especially not with Mickey’s omega desperate to be dicked down by this man.

“Who are you texting?” Liza has always been a pain in the ass. Always been too fucking nosy when it comes to his shit.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He shoots back and she laughs.

“Anyway, are you coming or not?”

Mickey shrugs, “What frat is it again?”

“Why do you even care? It’s a way to get booze and fuck.”

“Just tell me, bitch.” Mickey insists. He wants to make sure there will be alphas there who know how to fuck.

She rolls her eyes, “Theta Chi.”

“They host shitty parties.”

Liza smiles wide at him, “That’s a yes.”

--

Mickey intends to get very fucking plastered tonight. He will be drinking and smoking and fucking his mind off Gallagher. Liza keeps trying to convince him to dress up—as if she could ever get Mickey Milkovich to put on more than a ratty t-shirt and jeans. He shakes her off with one good “fuck off!” and then they’re out the door. Mickey and Liza meet up with their friends Olivia and Nina.

Mickey slings one arm around Nina’s neck and the other around Olivia’s. “You look good tonight, Mick. You stink, however, so not sure you’ll have much luck in the cock department.” Nina’s nose crinkles in disgust as she shoves him off her. He shrugs and shoves hand into his jean pockets.

“Who said anything about dick?”

“Liza.” Olivia answered, reaching over to pinch Mickey’s ass. “She said you’re pretty hung up on getting one out.”

Mickey smacks her hand out of the way. He retracts his arm and shoves her. “Fuck all of you.”

“Not our fault you’re so repulsed by your scent you have to cover it up.” Liza squares up at him and reaches out to smack him. He catches her hand twists it behind her back. She shoves off him and starts jogging away, screaming, “Get the fuck away from me!”

Mickey gets a good laugh out of it and settles back into step with the two other omegas. The frat house is off Bishop Street, making it a long walk. Luckily the weather is nice tonight and Mickey isn’t a woman, so no heels for him—as much as Liza would love to force him into some.

The sounds of frat parties fill the air. Miami is known for its crazy party scene. If only Miami kids could see the fuckin southside, he thinks. Theta Chi is coming up on their left, if Mickey’s memory serves him correctly. They rarely made their way off campus this far last year.

“So, remind me why we couldn’t just hit up the frats off Campus? Like, why the fuck am I walking this far?” Mickey complains. “I’ll sweat off all this fucking alpha spray.”

“You should hope you do! I’m doing you a favor, ass wipe.” Liza turns around and smacks him before walking in the front door.

As is usual for frat parties, the house is fucking packed. There is an overwhelming mix of smells invading Mickey’s nose. There’s too many alphas trying to assert themselves by out smelling the other. Mickey shakes his head and immediately heads to the kitchen, followed by Olivia and Nina. Liza is off doing who knows what already. He picks up the red solo cup and fills it with Jack and Coke before turning to his friends. “What can I get you la-”

“Mickey?” He can’t see him, but he can certainly smell him. Olivia and Nina are switching between staring at him and Gallagher. Their eyes go wide before they both share a knowing smile. He hates that he’s been figured out. He would never dare tell Liza he’s been going crazy over Gallagher’s cock, but he did tell these two.

He clears his throat, “Hold that thought.” And turns around to look at him. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” Ian asks. “Oh, are these your friends?” He passes them one of his grins and introduces himself, “I’m Ian.”

“We know.” Nina replies before saying, “I’m Nina, and this is Olivia. You know our other friend… Liza Fischer?”

Mickey shoots Nina a dirty look, that bitch. Luckily, Ian just laughs easily, “Oh yeah. I remember her. The whole team remembers her. Poor Kody never got a call back. At least, not unless she wants something.” Olivia giggles and Mickey knows she’s feeling it. The fuckin effects of Ian Gallagher.

“How do you guys know Mickey?” Ian asks, seeming to realize all these women are omegas.

Mickey breaks in to make sure they don’t say something stupid, “Oh, we all met in an intro class last year.” He shoots them a warning look to make sure they don’t fuck this up for him.

Thank god they both catch on and nod. “Hey, you never texted me back about lunch.” Ian steps closer to Mickey making him take a step back to accommodate.

“Uh, yeah I did. I said no.”

“You invited him to lunch?” Nina and Oliva exchanged a look. They were all thinking the same thing, Liza will not be happy.

Ian grins, unaware, “Oh yeah. We have class together this semester and I thought it’d be cool to get to know each other.”

Olivia laughs, “Yeah, Mickey isn’t exactly the get to know type.” He knows she’s trying to insinuate he just wants to fuck, which isn’t wrong, but Ian has no idea.

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem like a friendly guy. Hoping I can change that.” Ian glances down at him with a smile. Mickey does not meet his eyes.

Before he has a chance to get himself out of the conversation, here comes Liza with none other than Kody Dramer. “Kody!” Ian greets before seeing Liza. “Hi Liza, looks like Kody found ya. He told me he invited you.”

Mickey’s lower lip slipped into his mouth and his teeth began to saw away. Liza glanced from Ian to Mickey back to Ian. “Ian. What are you doing with Mickey?”

“Oh, we’re in Psy 242 together. I was just saying hi. He told me you all met in an intro class together.”

Mickey’s eyes begged Liza not to fuck this up for him She seemed to realize that but it wasn’t Liza who fucked him, it was Kody. “What? Nah, Mickey is her roommate.”

Mickey closes his eyes. He feels ready to sock Kody in the fucking mouth. That big, fat fucking mouth.

“What do you mean? Mickey’s…” Ian trails off and Mickey can feel his eyes boring holes into him.

“An omega.” Mickey fills in for him and opens his eyes. Ian is looking at him, clearly confused. He turns away from Ian and back to Olivia and Nina. “Anyway, what did you guys want to-”

Ian grips Mickey’s arm and tugs him out of the house. There’s an open back door that connects to the kitchen and Mickey finds himself being—gently—pushed out of this door. The party is still going on outside, there are plenty of people outside, but Ian doesn’t seem to realize this. He pushes Mickey against the wall, getting up close and clearly wanting to determine for himself. Mickey won’t let him. He shoves Ian, hard, to get him the fuck off of him.

“Back up or I’ll fuck you up, man.” Mickey warns him. Ian is gone. So fucking gone, there’s nothing behind his eyes, nothing but obsessive alpha. “I’m serious, Gallagher. Fuck off man.”

Nothing. There’s nothing Mickey can say that will change the next few moments. Ian crowds Mickey against the wall and shoves his nose into his neck. Mickey shoves at him, hard, but Ian overpowers him. His nose trails down Mickey’s neck heading straight for his jugular.

There he stops. He inhales deeply and is clearly searching for the omega. The omega Mickey has gone at lengths to hide. He shoves again, this time aiming for Ian’s cock. Ian catches Mickey’s knee in his hand and pulls back to look him in the eye.

“Go to hell.” Mickey grinds out. Ian pulls back. He doesn’t touch Mickey, has made sure not to touch Mickey in a way that would make him uncomfortable.

“You’re hard.” Ian breathes and palms him through his jeans.

Mickey didn’t expect that, didn’t expect Ian to catch on to that through his haze. “Fuck, Gallagher.” He drops his head.

“No. Ian. Call me Ian.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything, just lets Ian continue to rub his cock. He’s desperate. He’s been craving this man for a year. He knows there are people, he knows he’s being watched, he knows all of this. He does. But he just can’t care when he thinks he’s gonna get his dick sucked. Which is exactly what is about to happen.

“Mickey!” He jolts and looks over to Liza glaring at him, hard. He shoves Ian once, twice, three times before he finally gets off him.

“Wait.” Ian grips his arm. He looks down at it and then over to Liza.

“Liza.” I’m about to get my rocks off. He wants to say, but he doesn’t. He hopes she understand.

“Okay.” She nods her head, “Okay.” She repeats and then disappears back inside.

“You got a room, Gallagher… or?”

Ian looks up at him, surprised. He can’t seem to believe this is happening. “Fuck. Yes. Yes I have a room.” He pulls off him long enough to grab his arm and yank him up the stairs. Mickey isn’t paying attention, his cock straining in his pants. He’s shoved into a room and Ian smacks the lights on and the door closed.

Ian just kinda stands there for a second, watching Mickey watch him. Mickey isn’t sure what to do. “You gonna get on me, or what?”

--

Oh fuck, he thinks as he rolls over. His back is definitely blown the fuck out. He’s sore all over and has no idea what time it is. Did I fall asleep? He sits up quickly. The window seems to suggest he did. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit I fucked up. He looks down to see Ian fucking Gallagher asleep still.

He tries to silently climb out of bed, collecting his clothes as he goes along. Underwear… underwear… underwear… there it is. He grabs his briefs and starts dressing as quickly as possible. Tugging on his shoes, he gives Ian one last glance before darting out of the room. His phone is dead so he has no idea what time it is, but early, he guesses, because no one else seems to be awake.

Mickey feels lucky he knows Oxford as well as he does. He walks back from Bishop street to the dorm, sliding his key into the lock and slowly opening the door only to be smacked with a pillow.

“Fuck you.” He exclaims, looking to see Liza sitting in her bed with a deep scowl on her face.

“Really, Mickey? Ian Gallagher? You just had to bed the one guy I couldn’t, huh?” Liza’s tone has a mixture of amusement and anger. Mickey assumes she is mad, she really is, she just can’t help but feel amused that Ian went for Mickey of all fucking people.

“It wasn’t like that, asshole. We have class together.”

“Yeah? If it’s just class then why do you smell like he ran a freight train on you?”

“I mean… it was just class. That was a one-time thing, Liza. I just had to get him out of my system.” He shakes his head. He really doesn’t feel any better now that Ian has fucked him. If anything, he feels like a fucking freak, interested in Ian and all that shit.

“Out of your system, huh?” Liza scoffs and raises an eyebrow in gesture to his neck. “The fuck is that then?”

Mickey’s heart sinks. The fuck is what? He nearly trips over himself as he goes over to the full-length mirror they have in their room. A hickey. A fucking hickey has planted itself on his neck. “That fucker.” Mickey hisses and brings a hand up to cover it.

“Does he know it’s a one-time thing?”

Mickey grits his teeth, half tempted to go back over there and lay into Gallagher. He knows that will only encourage him. The best way to deal with this is to cut it off at the head, he decides.

“He’s about to.” He scoffs.

--

Ian blows up Mickey’s phone the next day. Every two minutes it’s vibrating, telling him the asshole wants something.

You ran off without saying goodbye!

You want breakfast? Patterson’s is delicious. Not sure if you’ve tried it.

Or maybe not Patterson’s? How about Bagel and Deli?

Mickey?

A few hours pass and Mickey thinks that he’s finally gotten the hint.

Hey!

Can I interest you in lunch?

I’m craving Mexican. You try El Burrito Loco off Locust? It’s good. We should go.

Mickey continues to ignore, continues to go about his classwork.

I hope you got home okay! I feel like I should have asked that first.

Did you get home okay?

Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to you this morning.

Mickey turns his phone off at this point. He finishes up the essay on Ian and then some other shit for his PSY293 class. It’s busting his ass and it’s only the first week. But math has never been Mickey’s strong suit.

He feels lucky that he hasn’t run across Ian on campus all day today, and even more lucky that he doesn’t know where he lives. He has a feeling Ian is a dog with a bone. He won’t give up until Mickey turns him down.

He’s not sure what he did to incite this level of obsession from Ian. He knows what he’s trying to do. Trying to prove to Mickey that he can provide. That he can fuck but also knows how to emotionally invest. Too bad for Ian, Mickey doesn’t want that shit. He wanted a quick fuck, a way to get Ian’s scent out of his nose, and Ian’s strong body out of his head. And a quick fuck was all he needed.

--

Mickey was absolutely dreading going to class today. Yesterday it was all he could do to put the thought out of his mind, but now he has no choice but to face it. His essay on Ian Gallagher was done and he hopes he approached it from an unbiased perspective. He even had Liza read over it to make sure.

He bounces his leg as he stares straight ahead at the board. He knows Gallagher will try to sit down next to him and he wants nothing to do with that. But what can he do? Tell the professor who isn’t even in the fucking room yet?

The seat next to him makes a creaky noise as a body sits down. Mickey doesn’t look up. He doesn’t even acknowledge Gallagher, hoping he’ll get the hint.

“Hi Mickey,” Ian breathes, and Mickey can feel his eyes boring holes into the side of his head.

Mickey swallows thickly and doesn’t respond. Why the fuck is he here so early? He was late last class. He knows that his hickey left so sweetly but Ian is probably staring him in the face right now. He also knows he has to acknowledge him.

“Hi,” He spits out.

“You never texted me back.” Ian observes, still staring at him, probably enamored by his handiwork left on Mickey’s body.

“Yeah. Figured you’d take the hint.”

“Can we go to lunch after this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested, Gallagher.”

“Back to Gallagher?”

Mickey feels hot at the memory of being forced to call him Ian. He had wrapped a hand around Mickey’s neck, squeezing ever so slightly and demanding Mickey call him Ian. He had even pulled his cock out, withholding it until Mickey caved.

“Good morning class. I trust you have my essays?” Oh thank fuck. Mickey thinks as the professor saves him from having to explain anymore. He also saves Mickey’s dick from getting hard at the thought of banging Gallagher.

Fuck. Now he’s thinking about banging Gallagher again.

Class flies by, mostly because Mickey is dreading getting out. He knows Ian will follow him around until Mickey gives in and lets him buy him lunch. He really doesn’t get Ian’s obsession with him. He wouldn’t even let the guy kiss him. Maybe he thinks of Mickey as a conquest? Wants to break him down until he falls in love and then Ian can fuck off?

“Alright. Make sure you do the reading for class on Friday. I’ll see you all then.” With that, they’re released and Mickey starts packing things into his bag.

“So. Lunch?” Gallagher insists, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“No. Thanks.” Mickey shoves his way out of the aisle and stalks towards the door.

“Why not?”

“You don’t get it yet? I’m not fucking interested, Gallagher.”

“In what?”

“In being your little butt buddy or what the fuck ever. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend here.”

Ian stuffs his hands into his jean pockets and shoots Mickey a smile. That stupid, goofy ass smile. “Okay. So. Lunch?” He repeats.

“What the fuck man?” Mickey pushes open the door to the Psychology Building and feels the rush of the late summer air on his face. He’s rushing out to sidewalk to try and put some distance between them. Unfortunately for him, Ian has long ass legs and he keeps pace with Mickey easily.

“I know we aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. Never said that. I just want to get to know you.”

Mickey stays silent, booking it to the light at Patterson and High. He shakes his head.

“Come on, Mickey. I have shit all to do right now. Let’s get lunch. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Again, Mickey is silent. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s mulling over it. That he’s considering it. Suddenly, he blurts, “Fine, but you’re paying.”

--

Mickey finds himself begrudgingly sitting across of Ian fucking Gallagher in Garden. They both grabbed lunch and found a nice, secluded spot to talk. He doesn’t know what the hell Gallagher wants. What he could possibly see in Mickey that makes him chase him down like this.

“Why hide you’re an omega?” Ian asks suddenly.

Mickey scoffs, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.”

“I know that.” Mickey snaps, not looking up from his pasta.

“Okay. So what’s the answer then?”

“There’s no answer. I just do.”

Ian does not look convinced. But it’s the truth. Mickey has no reason for doing it, it’s just something he’s always done. At first because of his dad and then because it was just easier that way.

“There’s got to be some reason.”

“I did it when I first presented. Just to keep it from my dad, to keep him off my case. And then I never stopped. Is that what you wanna hear?”

“If it’s the truth.” Ian shrugs and goes back to his pizza.

Why are you so obsessed with me, he doesn’t ask.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Ian looks up, seeming to be somewhat insecure. He almost laughs. That’s what this is about? He doesn’t like not being liked.

“I told you, man. I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

“What about a fuck buddy?”

Mickey smirks up at him and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back. “That’s what this is about? You wanna fuck again?”

“No.” Ian starts and Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up. No?! “I mean, yes, but no. I just like you, is all.”

“I try not to make a habit of being fuck buddies with a dude who’s into me.”

Ian grins, “I never said I was into you.”

“You literally just did.” Mickey counters and leans forward, smirking at Ian.

“No. I said I like you. I coulda meant as a friend.”

“Is that what you meant, Gallagher?”

“Maybe, Milkovich.”

Mickey doesn’t like that answer, but if he presses will he look desperate? So he leaves it and focuses on eating his pasta.

Mickey actually likes dining hall food. Most people are surprised to hear that, but he isn’t. His dad never cooked and his mom was long dead before Mickey could remember her cooking. Or if she even cooked. So dining hall food was actually really good to him. He shovels bite after bite into his mouth to avoid any more conversation with Ian.

Ian seems to take the hint and eats his own lunch. Eventually, though, he pipes up, “You eat fast.”

“You have to eat fast in a house full of alphas.” Mickey states plainly.

Ian hums neither in agreement nor disagreement. He is suddenly very aware of the fact that they look like they’re on a date.

It’s not a date, he tells himself. Not a date because…

Fuck, it’s a fuckin date.

This prick tricked him into a god damn date. He even insisted Ian pay, only further solidifying date territory.

“Um. Well, thanks for lunch. I’m gonna-”

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Ian cuts him off, already standing and collecting his things.

“Uh, no man, that’s okay.”

“Breakfast? Tomorrow morning?” Ian offers and Mickey once again knows he wants to take him on a date.

“We’re-”

“Not boyfriend and girlfriend. I know. Not a date. Just breakfast. We can go to Bagel and Deli. I go there with my friends all the time.”

“Not a date.” Mickey reiterates but doesn’t disagree.

“Okay. I’ll text you.” Ian says and with that he’s taking his tray to the conveyer belt. Mickey coughs as a way to cover his embarrassment. How the fuck did he let Gallagher talk him into this?

--

“Where have you been?” Liza asks when Mickey gets back.

He purses his lips and contemplates ignoring her. “Lunch.” He says.

“You never got lunch last year. Your too fucking poor.” She pokes fun at him but he thinks she knows where he was, somehow. Somehow she knows Ian is pursuing him.

“Lunch with G—uh—Ian.”

“Oh yeah?” She raises her eyebrows. “You know you don’t have to be scared to tell me that stuff. I don’t really care. I’m fucking Kody right now anyway.”

He isn’t scared of some chick. “I’m not scared of some chick.” Mickey insists, and he isn’t. But he sure as hell is scared of losing his first friend from college. He’ll never admit it though.

His phone vibrates and Mickey sighs. Liza looks at him in an indescribable way. “Are you two dating?”

“No.” He says forcefully. Maybe too forcefully. Liza holds up her hands in surrender.

“Again, does he know that?”

“I told him like twenty fuckin times today.”

She hums and motions for Mickey to check it.

I had fun today. Thanks for going to lunch with me. I’m an early riser, not sure when you’ll be up tomorrow. How does 9 sound?

“What’s that about?” Liza asks.

“Uh.”

She smirks, “Another date, huh?”

“Not a date.”

“Then what is it?”

“Bagel and Deli. Tomorrow morning.”

“You see what’s going on, don’t you?” She asks him and he does. He really does. But there’s this throbbing in his… well his dick when he’s around Ian. Maybe he just needs another good fuck to get him out of his system. Yeah. That’s it.

“Yeah. I’m trying to get laid again.” Is all he says and she leaves it.

So Mickey sets his stuff down on his desk and begins working on homework. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there when he feels his phone buzz again and so he pulls it out and checks it.

Ghosting me again?

No doing homework

Do you have anything better to do than text me 24 7

Lol. At practice, actually. Just wanted to make sure you got my message. Sometimes they don’t send in Goggin.

Yeah I got your message. 9 is fine

Mickey was fucked. He was thinking about Ian in his stupid fucking uniform and his body getting all hot and sweaty. It was making his dick hard. He remembers what Ian’s body looks like when he’s hot. How his chest flushes when he’s getting a good workout. How sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead.

“Fuck.” Mickey grunts, making Liza look over at him.

She smirks, “You’re stinking up the place Mick.”

He huffs and stands up, “Fuck off.” He heads to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom stall, Mickey yanks his jeans down and finds his hole wet with slick. He grunts and shoves a finger up it. He closes his eyes and puts another finger inside himself. He feels so stupid, fingering himself in the bathroom over an alpha. Not even his alpha, just an alpha.

Not that he wants his own alpha. There has never and will never be his alpha. Of course not. Mickey doesn’t want that responsibility. The responsibility of providing for another.

But god that does not stop him from wanting Ian to fuck his brains out. It really doesn’t.

Mickey tries not to remember how Ian felt inside him. How Ian got on his knees and sucked the slick off his thighs. How Ian’s huge cock fit in his mouth. How he grabbed Mickey’s head and forced him to choke on it.

Oh fuck. Mickey gets wetter and wetter at these thoughts so he keeps going.

He thinks about how Ian bent him over his bed, forcing his head down, and plowed him. The way Ian would thrust and thrust over and over again fucking the life out of Mickey. God did that man know how to fuck. Mickey felt jealous of his past self. He wishes he had appreciated it more. He nuts all over his hand as he pictures Ian cumming inside of him and the way his cock twitched as he did.

He wipes himself off with the toilet paper and then washes his hands. He heads back to his room, spent.

“Your phone has been blowing up.” Liza informs him.

“You check it, you crazy bitch?”

She laughs at him and tosses him the phone. “No. I don’t give a shit about you and Ian.”

He checks it.

Good

It might be easier for us to go together. You could crash here?

Sorry. That was too forward.

I’m hoping to fuck.

That was also too forward.

I can’t help it. I can’t stop thinking about that ass.

Fuck. I’m getting worked up over you at practice.

I’m done here at 7.

Come over.

Mickey checks the time. 7:02.

He hasn’t answered Ian yet but his hole throbs at the thought. He wants to say no. Wants to insist that he won’t come over and they won’t fuck and he won’t see him tomorrow morning for breakfast. But he doesn’t say that. Instead he grabs his keys again, stuffs his phone in his pocket, and heads for the door.

“Someone is getting laid.” He hears Liza coo as he leaves the room.

The walk to Theta Chi is long but Mickey hardly notices, pushed on by his achingly empty hole. He practically breaks out in a sprint. As he rounds on the Theta Chi house he suddenly is aware of the fact that he is embarrassing himself. Tripping over himself to fuck some rando he hardly knows. It’s embarrassing.

“Mickey.” He hears Ian’s voice call to him from the front porch. Mickey looks up and smirks.

“You waiting for me Gallagher?”

“Wishful thinking.” Ian smiles and nods his head toward the door. “You coming in?”

Mickey doesn’t answer, just saunters through the door. He has no memory of where Ian’s room is so he lets him lead the way. They go up a pair of stairs at the front of the house and head to the first room on the left. Ian opens the door for him and Mickey tries not to stand awkwardly. He doesn’t want to make himself at home, either because he doesn’t want Ian to think they’re more than what they are.

“You can sit.” Ian tells him and Mickey looks at the bed. He sits. “Are you hungry?”

“I didn’t come over here to chit chat, Gallagher.”

Ian smirks at him and stands in front of him, towering over his body, “It’s Ian… or did you forget?”

Mickey wonders if he will remind him but then he decides it best not to test him. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t care.”

Ian raises an eyebrow, “I’ll make you care.” He insists and pushes Mickey back against his bed.

--

Mickey wakes up sore the next morning. He and Ian went maybe four or five times the night before. His hole was raw and his body covered in hickeys. He didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know this. Ian was rough and possessive, especially after Mickey insisted on calling him Gallagher.

Once again, Ian held Mickey’s throat tightly and demanded Mickey use his name. This time, however, instead of holding his dick away from Mickey’s hole, he slammed into him over and over, making Mickey want to beg for mercy.

He can still feel Ian inside him. He’s about to get up when he feels Ian wrap an arm around him. “We have breakfast, remember?”

“I gotta piss, get off me.” He pushes Ian’s arm off him and heads to the bathroom attached to Ian’s room. He feels Ian’s eyes on him.

“Figured you’d try and fuck off again.”

“I still might.” Mickey scoffs as he shakes it off and heads back to the bed.

“You aren’t hungry?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You just said you’ll leave.”

“I don’t need you to eat, Gallagher.” He insists.

“Ian.”

“Gallagher.” Mickey reiterates, “You can’t force me to call you anything when you’re not fucking me.”

Ian smirks, “That can be arranged. All you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck off.” Ian grabs Mickey’s hand and tugs him into him. He rolls on top of Mickey and he watches as Ian’s eyes roam all over him. He can practically taste the sexual tension in the room.

“I’ll make you eat those words, Milkovich.”

--

After another round Ian lets Mickey get dressed and they head out to Bagel and Deli. Mickey avoids the eyes of all the other alphas in the house as they leave. Ian tries to wrap an arm around him but Mickey shrugs it off.

“Not into PDA?” Ian asks softly as they round the corner onto High Street.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“You’d be into PDA if I was your boyfriend?” Ian quips in amusement.

“Fuck off Gallagher.”

“Ian.” He reminds Mickey as they continue up the street. Bagel and Deli is way closer to Theta Chi than campus. He really likes the restaurant but he and his friends rarely go because of the walk.

Ian holds the door open for Mickey, “I’m not your bitch.” He hisses as he ducks under Ian’s arm to get inside. He’s surprised to find the restaurant empty on a Thursday.

Ian just grins and walks up to the counter. “What can I get you guys?” A girl from behind the counter asks.

“You know what you want?” He asks.

“Yeah. Give me a Big Meeks.” Ian shoots him a disapproving look and Mickey somehow knows exactly what the problem is, “Please.” He tacks on.

She smiles at him, “Sure. And for you?”

“Crunch and Munch, please.” Ian punches the please as if to prove a point.

Mickey scoffs and looks away. “Any drinks or chips for you guys?”

“Uh…” Mickey trails off and looks behind the counter at the fountain drinks. “A Sprite, please.”

“I’ll do the same.”

“Sure. Twenty-one fifty please.”

Mickey goes for his wallet but Ian beats him to it and forks over the cash. He hears the register and watches as the girl lifts out the bills. He feels pissed. This is another fucking date.

After they get their bagels and drinks, they head outside to sit down. “You didn’t have to pay for me.”

“I know.” Ian concurs and begins unwrapping his bagel.

Mickey decides to follow suit, his mouth practically watering at the smell of it. “This isn’t a date or some shit.” Mickey insists, not looking at Ian.

“Okay.” Ian agrees. “What classes do you have today?”

Mickey shrugs, “None. Today is my free day. I got other shit I need to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like study. I’m here on fucking scholarship, I gotta study.”

“Oh, that’s right. What are your plans later tonight?”

Mickey looks at him out of the corner of his eye, watching as Ian tries to eat his messy ass bagel as delicately as possible. “I don’t know.” He answers.

“You want to come over again?”

“Fuck no.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not-”

“Boyfriend and girlfriend, I know. I’m asking if you want to fuck again.”

Mickey stays silent at that, mulling it over. Does he want to fuck again? After they fucked six times in the last twelve hours? His asshole feels raw and he knows he shouldn’t. They aren’t even fuck buddies. Mickey just needed to get him out of his system. Was Ian out of his system? He couldn’t tell yet.

“I don’t know.” He says honestly.

“You don’t know if you want to fuck again?”

“Jesus Gallagher, I’m not trying to find a fuck buddy here. I’m getting you outta my system and then moving the fuck on.”

“My name is Ian and I didn’t ask if you wanted to be my fuck buddy. I’m asking if you want to come over tonight and let me pound the shit out of your sopping wet hole.”

As the dirty words leave Ian’s mouth Mickey feels his stomach tighten. Okay, so maybe Ian isn’t out of his system yet. “Two days in a row seems a bit excessive.”

“The quicker you get me out of your system, then, huh?” Ian smirks at him over his bagel before taking his last bite. “Whaddaya say? You want to take this fat cock again?”

“Fuck off.” Mickey’s response is quick, reflexive. He feels hot at the mention of Ian’s dick stretching him open. It feels sickening yet so, so sexy at the same time. Mickey would never have dreamed he’d get Ian Gallagher in bed. Not after he spent the last year obsessing over him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I never said yes.”

“I can smell your slick. You said yes.”

Mickey wants to deck him in his smug fucking face. He hates that Ian has such a good nose for Mickey’s scent now. That he’s let some fucking alpha have this much control over it. “Whatever.” He tries to play it off, “What time?”

“I’m out of practice at 7. I’ll meet you at the house.”

“And if I don’t come?”

“You’ll come.” Ian asserts. Mickey doesn’t know how he can be so sure. “I gotta head to class, but I’ll see you tonight.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything as he stands up and throws out his trash. He sure as fuck doesn’t watch Ian’s retreating back like some lovesick omega either. He focuses on downing his Sprite and then throwing away his trash and then walking back to his dorm. That’s it. That’s all. Not on Ian or on fucking Ian or on sucking Ian or on smelling Ian. Certainly not smelling Ian. Because he would have no idea what he smells like.

When he gets back to his room Liza isn’t there which he thanks god for. He doesn’t want to explain to her why he got back smelling so strongly of sex and his own slick. So, to avoid that conversation that will inevitably come up, he heads to the bathroom to shower.

--

“So.” Liza starts when he gets back in the room.

He sighs and looks at her, “Yes. Yes I fucked him again and I’m gonna fuck him tonight too.”

“So, what, you two are dating now?” She asks exasperatedly.

“No. No, we aren’t.”

“So you’re fuck buddies?”

“No. We’re… I don’t know. Just fucking to get-”

“Get him out of your system? If that was the case you’d be done by now, Mickey.” Liza points out and Mickey knows she’s right. He knows that something else is going on but now is not the time to admit it.

“I’ve spent the last year obsessed with fucking this guy. Sorry if it takes me a little longer to get him out of my system.”

“What?” She looks confused and Mickey realizes. Realizes he’s never told her about Ian and about how bad he’s been wanting to fuck him.

“Yeah. I told Olivia and Nina, but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to piss you off. When you were obsessed with fucking him I… don’t know what to call it. I wanted to fuck him too, I guess. I thought he was hot, that’s why I kept going to all those games with you.”

“Fuck. I thought you just liked hockey.” Liza laughs at herself, seeming to realize how stupid she had been.

“I hate hockey.” Mickey asserts, shaking his head.

“So, what, you just love Ian Gallagher?”

“Fuck off. I don’t love him, I love his dick that’s all.”

Liza raises her eyebrows, “Oh so now you love his dick, huh?”

Mickey scoffs, “Whatever, you know it, I know it. That man has some serious dick game.”

“Ew okay, I don’t want to know about you taking it up the ass.” She shakes her head and sits back down on her bed. “Good for you, I guess.” And with that the conversation is over.

--

Mickey spends most of the day studying for his PSY293 class. The class is kicking his ass. Mickey isn’t the best at software systems, and definitely not math, so SPSS is not a good combination for him. He knows once he gets it, he gets it, but he isn’t there. So he’s spending the majority of the day working out practice problems.

Got out of practice early. Want to grab dinner?

Mickey stares at his phone. It’s 6:38 and Mickey is starving but no way is he going on another date with Ian.

Fuck off

Text me when you’re done eating and we’ll fuck

Meet me at Skippers

Do you not know how to take a hint?

Do you not know how to take a command? Meet me at Skippers.

He wants to say something snarky but there’s something inside him pulling him to go. Something inside saying he wants to please Ian and wants to show him what a good little—Ew fuck stop it, he scolds himself.

Skippers sucks

Their food is ass

Where would you like to go, then?

JJs

JJs?

Jimmy John’s?? You don’t call it JJs?

Nah, that’s a freshman thing I think.

Fuck off

I’m a sophomore

And I’m a cradle robber

Mickey snorts and shoves his notebook into his desk drawer. He looks over Liza and says, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning after class.”

“Are you taking your shit with you?”

Fuck, Mickey hadn’t thought of that. Would it be okay to bring an overnight bag to… Ian’s? The guy he’s fucking? He isn’t sure what to refer to him as.

“Uh…”

As if on cue, his phone vibrates once more.

Bring your shit for class tomorrow. Breakfast is on me.

Mickey flexes his jaw and looks at Liza, “Yeah.”

He grabs his backpack and stuffs it with his notebook and textbook for PSY242. He also grabs an extra pair of underwear, figuring he can wear the same clothes as today. They weren’t that dirty. And in the southside he wore clothes for a lot longer than that.

Mickey makes his way to High Street with the sun setting behind him. He’s grateful for the warm weather because the walk is long and he wouldn’t want to make it in the winter. He hopes by winter Ian Gallagher is out of his system. By winter he wants to have nothing to do with that man, that alpha.

Jimmy John’s is a fucked up place. It’s always a little dirty and crawling with drunk frat boys. He feels bad for the employees always having to put up with people. Especially on a Thursday night. Thirsty Thursday, he thinks.

“Well, look who decided to grace me with his presence.” He hears Ian call out to him from in front of the store.

Mickey scoffs and walks up to the door, opening it for himself. “Fuck off.” Is all he has to say.

“What can I get you guys?”

“A Gargantuan, please.” Mickey tacks on the please to appease Ian.

“I’ll do the Big John, thanks.” Ian pulls out his wallet and hands over his card.

“Run out of cash, Gallagher?”

“You’re expensive.” Ian smiles at him and accepts his card back. They wait at the end of the counter for their food and Mickey tries not to think about that comment.

Don’t worry, he thinks, this will all be over soon enough.

“You wanna sit in here or outside?” It’s a nice day out but Mickey feels hot.

“Nah. Here is good.” He sits down at one of the booths and unwraps his sandwich.

They eat in mostly silence, Ian trying to make conversation and Mickey’s mouth being continuously full. Ian makes another comment on how fast he eats and Mickey responds with flipping him off.

Mickey is, of course, the first one done with his meal seeing as Ian is a slow eater.

“Hurry up man. Want you to get on me.”

Ian’s eyes seem to darken as his pupils blow out. He wraps up his sandwich and heads to the trashcan. “Let’s go then.”

--

The next morning Mickey is sore all over… again. He wants to say he hates it, but he fucking loves the way Ian works him out. Ian is still asleep so Mickey takes the time to lay in bed and soak it up. He’s not sure exactly what he’s soaking up, but whatever it is he feels at ease. At peace.

Ian stirs next to him, throwing an arm over his torso and leaning into his neck. He can’t tell if Ian is awake or not.

As if to answer this internal question Ian says, “You smell so fucking good.”

Mickey shoves his chest which does nothing to discourage Ian from wrapping around him. “Fuck off man.”

“Oh, you wanna go again?” Ian chuckles as he rolls on top of Mickey and leans in for a kiss.

“The fuck have I said about that shit man?” Mickey recoils and shoves Ian again, this time much harder.

“Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out. Yes I know.” Ian tries to imitate him but Mickey thinks he’s pretty off base.

He shrugs and Ian chooses to instead nip down his neck and chest. He sucks hard on the part where Mickey’s throat meets his chest, the place where a bond bite would go. Ian seems to be obsessed with that area. Mickey voices this, “You’re fucking obsessed.”

“With you? Yes.” It’s the first time Ian has given any inkling into how he feels about Mickey.

“Yeah well, too bad for you I guess.” Ian pulls back to stare at Mickey and slowly smirks.

“You know, I asked around about you.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean to me?”

“You, too, are obsessed. With me, that is.”

“How do you figure that, smart guy?”

Ian presses his nose back into Mickey’s throat and inhales deeply. He doesn’t answer right away which leads Mickey to believe he has no answer. “You came to every game last year. Told your friends you wanted me to fuck your brains out. Your heart races every time I do this…” He trails off to suck once again at Mickey’s neck. As if on cue, his heart starts up, pounding against Ian’s hand which he has moved to Mickey’s chest.

Mickey tries his hardest not to be embarrassed. “No idea what you’re talking about, Gallagher.”

“Ian. Why can you only call me Ian in bed?”

Mickey shrugs, but he’s right. Mickey tries his best to avoid the closeness of calling Ian by his first name. If he calls him Gallagher that puts distance between them, reminds Ian he’s nothing but a cock to Mickey.

“Whatever. Who the fuck are you asking about me to anyway?”

“Olivia. Nina. They’re very open after a couple of drinks.”

“You’re taking advantage of my friends now?”

“I think of it as getting to know them.” Ian smiles and rolls off Mickey, throwing his arm around Mickey again. “But there’s not need to feel embarrassed. You’re making a point to ignore what I said. It’s true, then, isn’t it? You’re obsessed with me.”

“If I’m obsessed with anything it’s that giant cock you sling in me.” Mickey snorts and tries to move his arm. It stays and Mickey doesn’t put up too much of a fight.

“Liar. You want to be my boyfriend.” Ian insists and this makes Mickey mad. He sits up and gets out of bed. Ian grabs his wrist but Mickey shakes it off.

“Fuck you is what I want. Don’t assume you know shit because you talked to my friends. Sure, I wanted to fuck you. Sure, I thought you were fucking hot. But I want shit all to do with you. The fuck do you think this is, Gallagher? We’re done. You hear me? Done is done.”

Mickey collects his clothes and begins to get dressed, shaking his head. He feels hot. Too hot. Too fucking mad he’s fuming. He wants to punch Ian in his pretty boy face for that stupid shit.

Ian stands up, too, and grabs Mickey. He turns him around with little effort and looks at him. Really looks at him in a way that makes Mickey want to squirm. “Get off me, man.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up for one fucking minute, Mickey.” He’s shocked into silence at the forcefulness at which Ian uses his name. Spitting it out like it tastes foul in his mouth. So Mickey does shut the fuck up. And Ian continues, “I like you. Not just fucking you—although that is really good. I want to be with you. I want you to spend the night here and not feel like you have to skip out in the morning. I know it’s only been a few days. But you… fuck… you make me feel shit I’ve never felt before. Make me alive, man. I keep taking you out on dates and shit and you don’t seem to get it through your fat fucking skull. I like you, Mickey. I want you to be my omega, not just some guy I fuck.”

Mickey’s jaw tenses and he grinds his teeth together to keep from headbutting this guy. “We can’t all burst out how we feel, Gallagher.” Is all he says. However, Ian’s grasp on him is strong and Mickey can’t move even if he tried.

Ian grins, “So you feel something, too, is what you’re saying?”

Mickey shakes his head, “No I’m not. I’m saying I’m not anybody’s bitch.”

Ian scoffs, “You’re my bitch whether you admit it or not. You take it up the ass and scream for my cock to destroy you. You get wet at the thought of me. You come running when I offer it to you. You’re my bitch so let’s just make this shit official.”

Mickey feels rage boiling up inside of him yet his hole gets wet at the nasty words coming out of Ian’s mouth. “I’m making jack shit official. What part of done don’t you get, Gallagher?”

“The part where you said you just needed to get me out of your system and we’ve fucked maybe thirty times in the past four days. You’re obsessed with me. You’re my bitch. You’re whatever else you don’t wanna be. Let me treat you right, Mickey. Let me treat you like I wanna treat you.”

“You do whatever the fuck you want anyway.” He huffs out and refuses to look him in the eye.

He can hear the smile in Ian’s voice, “So, what? That’s a yes?”

“Fuck off is what it is.”

“Breakfast?” Ian asks, changing the subject, assumedly before Mickey can back out of what he just said.

Mickey grits his teeth, “Fine.”