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Turkish had a weakness and everyone fucking knew it. It wasn’t that he’d ever wanted to prance about wearing a rainbow as a cape, simply that the way he saw it keeping it a secret would only make people who wanted something from him think they had the upper hand. So Turkish didn’t hide that when a nice looking man passed his way, especially if he happened to be covered in tattoos, he glanced at him for longer than was considered appropriate.
It’d never caused him problems. Theirs was a community of money and bullets. What a person got up in their personal time was no one’s fucking business.
Turkish had known that Mickey was a problem from the minute he first saw him, and not just because the gipsy had just sent Gorgeous George to the fucking hospital. No, Mickey also happened to be just his type and Turkish could just feel Tommy’s eyes on him. Hell, he could even hear his voice telling him it was a fucking mistake to even think about how good the other man looked and while Turkish didn’t particularly listen to real Tommy’s advice, the one his mind conjured was usually right and so Turkish moved his eyes away and talked business.
And shit went down and really, Turkish was ashamed of himself for not seeing it coming. Of fucking course the gipsy was going to get revenge on his ma’s behalf and fuck the consequences. Hell, Turkish couldn’t even find it in himself to fault the other man, especially when he left behind a nice dog with an even nicer present inside. No, Turkish certainly didn’t hold resentment against the other man.
That did not, however, mean that he was happy when Tommy came barging in, telling him how Mickey was back and wanted a chat with him. Turkish could already feel a headache coming in. The man could be easy on the eyes, but he sure as fuck wasn’t for his soul. Still, Turkish didn’t hold anything against him, so he told Tommy to let the man in and fucking hell, no need to give him that look. Honestly, sometimes Turkish wished he’d stayed in the closet, just so he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit. It wasn’t like he was fourteen and his prick got up whenever a good looking bloke passed by.
“Heya,” Mickey said and nodded. Curt and to the point, Turkish’s favourite part about dealing with gipsies. Hell, the only part he liked about dealing with them.
“Mickey. How have you been? I haven’t seen you around,” Turkish said and nodded to a chair, inviting the other man to sit at a chair in front of his desk, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Here and thare. Ya know how as can be,” Mickey said after sitting, opening his legs as far as they’d go but Turkish reminded himself of how he was not a fucking teenager and pointedly did not look down, no matter how much he wanted and fuck, he really needed a drink.
“Yes, that I do. So Mickey, what can I do for you?”
Mickey sent him a knowing smirk and Turkish didn’t know if the man was toying with him or offering him something, but either way he wasn’t messing with the gipsy. The man had caused him enough problems to last him a lifetime. Fuck, he was pretty sure that whole week had given him more greying hair.
“I wannafight,” Mickey said and nodded to himself.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite understand you,” Turkish replied. So okay he had an idea of what he’d heard but really, wasn’t his fault that Mickey talked a language all of his own.
“I said, I want a fight,” Mickey repeated, over enunciating every word and great, Turkish was going grey, but not deaf. He probably shouldn’t be upset about that.
“A fight… Against me?” Turkish raised his eyebrows. Of course he knew that wasn’t it but he needed time to quickly think. Was Mickey running out of money? Turkish had never quite understood how the gipsies survived on their caravans, and he’d never really cared to find out.
“With ya? Nothat sortafight,” Mickey replied, again with that smug smile and okay, it had been a while since Turkish had gotten laid but he hadn’t lost his touch, thank you very much, and he was still perfectly capable of knowing when he was being flirted with. Before he could reply, though, Mickey continued, which was probably a good thing because as said before, it had been a while and a big part of Turkish just wanted to ask, “do you want me on my knees?”, “I wanna fight forya, not witha.”
“Because that turned out so well last time,” Turkish replied with a raised eyebrow.
Mickey, the smug bastard, just shrugged. “Didn’t get killed, didya?”
“No thanks to you,” Turkish replied though he didn’t truly hold any negative feelings against the other man.
“Yer alive and safe. Don’t see watcha complaining but.”
Turkish decided not to answer and just continued to look at the other man.
Mickey stared back for some seconds until he sighed, but it wasn’t a defeated or tired sound. More like, “ok, I’ll do this your way for now but I could do it my way just as easily” and fuck, Turkish’s weakness was supposed to be tattooed guys, not smug ones.
“Look, I wannafight and wa both know I’m good. I’ll win every fight. You gonna get rich.”
Turkish decided to not say he was already rich, thanks to the dog he’d left behind, not being sure how that would go down.
“Okay,” he finally replied.
“Just likethat?”
Turkish shrugged, “like you said, you’re a good fighter and the chances of you losing a fight are slim. You’ll be a good money-maker.”
“I been called many things, but money-maker never been one,” Mickey replied and got up and Turkish expected that to be the end. He’d call Tommy and the two of them would exchange contacts and he’d arrange a fight and get some money out of it and Mickey would climb the ranks until he was one of the best and Turkish would maintain a professional relationship with him.
Of course, he should have known that a gipsy never did what you expected.
Mickey advanced slowly towards him, going around his desk and Turkish rolled his chair until he was turned to the other man, raising an eyebrow at him. He made an “oof” sound when Mickey sat on his lap, moving his hands automatically to his tights, though he was man enough to know that the idea of throwing the other man off never even passed his mind.
“So, ya readyforthatfight?” Turkish did not understand what the other man said but the way he started nicking at his neck was easy enough to make sense of.
This wasn’t exactly the way Turkish had expected events to unfold but fuck it, he was good under pressure, especially when it was pleasurable liked this.
He squeezed Mickey’s tights and then let go with his right hand, moving it to Mickey’s hand and pulling his hair enough so that Mickey was no longer attacking his neck and was instead looking at him, still with that smug look and Turkish really wished he was capable of following common sense and sending the man out, but of course his cock had to take control and so he attacked Mickey’s mouth.
Mickey, of course, gave as good as he got. Turkish was pretty sure he could taste blood.
Mickey’s hands were quick and before Turkish knew what had happened, his shirt was hanging on just by the shoulders and Mickey was playing with his nipples and he was moaning and fuck, he had no idea what he was doing or what the fuck was going on, but he sure didn’t want it to stop.
He stopped the kiss, forcing Mickey to take his shirt off and he of course couldn’t help but to admire the view. Mickey had such nice muscles and the tattoos… Turkish’s fucking weakness. He latched his mouth to the one covering most of his chest, licking, kissing and even biting and fuck, Tommy was definitely going to hear the noises, but if he was smart, which he occasionally was, then he was going to go away for a good half an hour.
Mickey was arching his back, almost falling from his lap and he couldn’t have that, now could he? Turkish got up, letting Mickey’s legs fall to the floor and the man looked at him with a bit of a hazy glance, but still relaxed and smug and fuck, but it had been a while since Turkish had felt so hard. He looked at his desk and seeing nothing of importance, threw everything on the floor with a hand and then pressed Mickey against it, who quickly got the message and hopped onto it.
Turkish had one of his hands on Mickey’s hair while the other was just moving from Mickey’s back to his chest, not knowing where to stop, squeezing everything along the way, feeling the strength in the other man and fuck, remembering how he was capable of putting one man down with one punch and Turkish knew how to fight, had had to learn because not everyone was as open minded as a bunch of thugs and murderers, but he still knew who had the upper hand and that should not be such a turn on as it was.
Mickey, on the other hand, was still playing with his nipples and Turkish’s trousers had never been the sort to be tight – he didn’t like to show the whole block what he was packing, thank you very much – but it was becoming uncomfortable so with a grunt he moved his hands to his trousers, pulling them open and pushing them down alongside with his boxers, just so they were around his tights. He then unzipped Mickey’s trousers as well, though because of his position he was only able to push them a bit open, so that his cock was free as well.
Mickey grunted and continued to lick into his mouth and Turkish opened his eyes and looked at his desk. It seemed sturdier enough and fuck it, it wasn’t like he couldn’t buy a new one if it wasn’t. So he pushed Mickey until he was laying on it and then put his knees on either side of him, leaning down until their cocks were touching and all that could be heard from the room were moans and grunts and the occasional curse. Well, occasional until Turkish moved his mouth to Mickey’s throat and then the man did not shut up, though Turkish did not care enough to decipher what he was saying. Since he kept moaning in the midst of it all, he assumed they were good things.
He continued to nick at his neck, being pretty sure that he was about to give Mickey a hickey on his neck like they were fucking kids again, but whatever. He could hide it later, if he even gave a fuck. At the same time, he started pushing with his tights, making their cocks meet and Mickey quickly joined the ride and they started a nice and good rhythm and Turkish wasn’t going to last, which was a fucking shame because he would have loved to fuck the gipsy. Oh well, maybe next time.
Not that there would be a next time, he told himself quickly, though that was the last of his thoughts for a while, since Mickey had put a hand around both their cocks and Turkish forgot all but feeling and smell and uh, Mickey smelled surprisingly good.
It didn’t take long until he came, which he would have felt ashamed for if Mickey hadn’t followed a few seconds after.
With a pant, Turkish fell on top of Mickey, though he was careful enough that the man wouldn’t feel his weight all at once and have all air leave his lungs.
“Yer heavy, mate,” Mickey still said and Turkish rolled around, though not far. Not like his desk was that big.
“Sorry,” he said in a small tone, though he wasn’t that much.
They stayed like that for some time, until Turkish finally got sick of how sweaty he felt and how he had spunk drying on his stomach and got up, feeling his legs a little jelly, but luckily they didn’t give out beneath him. Christ, that would have been fucking embarrassing.
He went to get some tissues, cleaning himself out the best he could, and then threw them at Mickey, who had gotten up too, and was of course standing in all his naked glory like he didn’t care. He probably didn’t, so Turkish allowed himself a few good looks before he started picking up his clothes. He was going to need a shower but there was no way he was leaving his office naked as the day he was born.
Mickey too got dressed and the silence wasn’t completely uncomfortable, but that was because Turkish didn’t make it so. It’d been a while since he’d done something like this, but he remembered the rules. Don’t make it weird, it was something that happened once, both parties enjoyed themselves, but that’s all it was. It was back to business now.
“Give your details to Tommy and I’ll contact you once I have a fight,” Turkish said, buttoning up his shirt.
“I’m sure y’al hear from me soonar,” Mickey said and with a smirk he walked out. Turkish just rolled his eyes behind him. Yeah, he was sure that wouldn’t happen.
.
Of fucking course Mickey didn’t follow the rules. Fuck, he probably didn’t know them. Or maybe he did and just liked to do the opposite. Sounded like the bastard. He probably wanted to mess with Turkish’s mind.
The gipsy, instead of doing as he was told, had come back two days later, right as Turkish was about to leave, ready for a nice evening in with home-made pasta, recipe of his grandmother, and some old classic film. The fucker hadn’t just stopped him on his way out, oh no, he’d also invited Turkish out. As in a fucking date.
“I didn’t hear you right,” was Turkish reply, even though he had but fuck, that sure wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
Mickey rolled his eyes, knowing he’d understood it too. “I asked if ya wanted to go on a date. Eat somathing.”
Turkish blinked and then looked to his right. No one was there to jump out and yell, “it’s a joke!”. He looked to his left but still that didn’t happen. He looked back to Mickey and blinked again.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” He answered because he hadn’t been on a date in fucking ages and Mickey was good looking and they sure were compatible in bed. It was unlikely this would last for longer than a night but hey, maybe Turkish would get his wish of fucking him. Mickey was also fucking crazy but by this point Turkish didn’t care.
Mickey smiled at him and for the first time there was something lurking in his eyes that went past smugness or rage or any other emotion Turkish had seen in his eyes before. He looked truly content and started leading Turkish away, talking about this and nothing and Turkish still didn’t understand everything he said, but he nodded in what he hoped were all the right places. Fuck, Tommy was never going to believe him.
.
To Turkish’s surprise and he would imagine, to Mickey’s too, even if he’d never admit, that wasn’t their only date. They went out again and again until suddenly there was a second toothbrush in Turkish’s sink and ugly shirts that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing were inside his closet and most nights he couldn’t roll around in bed when he couldn’t sleep like he usually did and actually had someone to eat breakfast with and fuck, he knew how they’d gotten there, but he didn’t understand it.
So he found himself on his balcony having a cigarette, even though he’d quit years before.
“Ya okay?” Mickey asked from the entrance and Turkish turned to him. He was wearing some sweatpants, being bare from the waist up, and cold from it, if the way he was rubbing his arms were any indication, but he still wasn’t moving away, the stubborn bastard he was.
“Yeah, go back to bed, doll,” Turkish answered, using the nickname without even realizing and fuck, when had that first appeared?
“I thought ya didn’t smoke,” Mickey replied and moved until he was sitting on a chair opposite Turkish’s, with their knees touching.
Turkish just shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Mickey didn’t say anything either, looking away to the buildings that surrounded them and how strange they must be to him. They’d talked about their childhoods several times, and there was still a pained note whenever Mickey talked about his ma, just like there was in Turkish’s when he’d talked about his beat up dad and it had been a while since he’d told anyone about the time he’d gotten beat with a belt because he’d been caught kissing another boy.
He looked at Mickey, remembering all the nights spent under the covers, not just fucking, but talking, about their days, their families, their dreams and fears and Mickey and Tommy were actually on good terms nowadays, fuck even Gorgeous George seemed to like the gipsy and the gipsies didn’t hate Turkish, they even smiled at him nowadays, even if the first time he’d come around he’d been threatened several times with bodily harm if anything happened to Mickey.
Fuck, they had met each other’s families and they slept together more often than not and Turkish was in a relationship with the guy in front of him. How had he not realized it before? He wondered if Mickey had already realized, but of course he had. That man was always several steps ahead of him.
But hey, maybe it was time for Turkish to get on the same level. He put out the cigarette on the ashtray and moved a bit until he was leaning forward and had a hand on one of Mickey’s legs, who immediately changed his attention from the stars to him. His eyes softened and Turkish smiled at him.
He still didn’t understand how they’d gotten here, but fuck, he didn’t understand how he’d come across a dog with a fucking diamond inside his belly either, so who was he to question where life took him? So with the sun slowly rising behind him, he leaned forward to meet Mickey’s lips, who’d already read his thoughts and met him halfway. Not exactly the future Turkish had envisioned for himself, but fuck, it was a pretty good one nonetheless.