((Gallavich Ian/Mickey)) I'mma teach ya how to behave

Gotta be a good boy

Ian knocked on the door and he smirked when he heard the little yelp from the room. "You better be dressed, princess.." He murmured and heard the bed crack and a tired, frustrated voice growling. "Fuck off and give me some clothes!"
Ian chuckled loudly. "I gave you a pair of underwear.."
"Yeah! A chick's underwear that you've banged, right?!" Mickey shout back and tried to find something to cover himself up with.

Ian sighed and opened the door, finding the teenager on his knees looking under Ian's bed in hope to find something. His balls was as squeezed as possible beneath the tight silky black panties that Ian had gave him last night and his pretty little ass was up in the air in a frowned motion.
Mickey sighed in embarrassment. "Can you leave me the fuck alone?"

Ian tilted his head, still eyeing the beautiful sight and he giggled. "Black is definitely your color."
Mickey crawled out from underneath the bed and grabbed Ian's collar, pushing him to the bed. "THATS IT YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!" He screamed and straddled Ian harshly, not caring that his crotch moved against Ian's, "give my clothes back! You have no motherfucking right to take my clothes and force me to wear these." He gestured to the panties that barely could hide his cock and he growled. "I hate you! And I'll fucking kick your sorry ass."

Ian tilted his head with a nonsaying look. "Mickey, no one forced you to wear the panties. You could be sleeping all naked instead but you choose to wear them.." he grinned a little and if it hadn't been that Mickey held his wrists hard, Ian would definitely have touched Mickey's groin. "Let go off me Mickey or I can make you wear something even worse.."

The teenager looked at Ian sternly before he raised his fist and brought it down to Ian's chin, punching him hard. He brought it up again and repeated the punch, hearing Ian wince and gasp in either pain or shock or maybe both.
The businessman started to bleed from his nose and he tried to find Mickey's eyes to get control over the situation. After a few minutes of careless punches Mickey pulled off and sat down on the floor, drying his eyes with his now bloody hands, his knuckles were bloody and it ran down his arm. Ian took a deep breathe through his mouth and sat up, his mind was a little slow after the violent treatment. "Are you feeling better now?"

Mickey shivered and mumbled. "Give me my clothes.."
Ian nodded and stood up carefully, reached his hand out to pat Mickey's head but he immediately pulled away and growled: "DA FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"
The redhaired man shrugged, walked to his room, got out a fairly pair of jeans that wasn't too dirty or had too much holes in it, and a lightly yellow shirt. He walked back to the boy that still were sitting in the corner of the room and placed the clothes in his lap. "Get dressed baby.."

Mickey gazed up carefully and then stood up, ripping the panties off and Ian nearly whimpered as the nice panties, that had been sitting so nicely around Mickey, were gone. He pulled on his shirt and jeans and groaned in relief. "I'll never let you buy me any clothes whatsoever.."

Ian chuckled and winked. "Okay.." He grabbed Mickey under his arms and picked him up with ease, purring. "You understand that I won't let this fight slip away, right?"
The teen snorted and looked away, blushing by the contact of his naked skin and Ian strong but soft hands.
"But first.." Ian let go off him and ruffled Mickey's hair before he could pull away his head, "let's have some breakfast.." Ian smirked and turned around to walk downstairs and Mickey heard him talk to either Kev or Frank.
Mickey felt how hungry he was and he wished he had his cigarettes to calm his hunger. He pulled on the shirt and dragged the jeans over his legs and buckled them hard enough above his ass - just hard enough so they could slip down a little but not more. He was still a little scared over what had happen last night, but he decided that though it was sexual harassment, Ian was better than most of his older fosterhomes.

With his hands in his pockets he followed down the long stair and chewed curiously on his lip, looking up and down to get a good sight of it all. He hadn't really payed much attention to Ian's home yesterday, but now he really saw everything. The walls were big in some sort of oak tree and painted in milky white while the walls in the kitchen were made in some sort of cement painted in lightly yellow. To get to the kitchen he would have to walk through the living room that led to the stair. There was a big plasma TV, a big comfy brown couch and a few couches on the floor. There was hanging a big lamp on the roof over the living room to give some extra light.