#like haha very funny my dads gonna be the man behind the slaughter if he sees this

[mollificen]

i’m dying my hair plum, and i was very sloppy with the dye, and it gotten all over my bathroom and stained it, and also stained me.

it looks like i murdered barney the purple fucking dinosaur.

[sleepyfaceandsnark]

The Highwayman

The most dangerous thing a Highwayman could do was fall in love with the Inn Keeper's redheaded son. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S)

A raven haired man dressed in all black rides at midnight with his horse to match and a dark cloth covering his face as protection from the cold and his identity. A typical outfit for what they called a Highway man, though others referred to him as simply a thief. It’s not really the life he wanted but it’s what he had to do to get by. He rides to an old rundown Inn ran by a drunken landlord who was hardly ever home. The Inn is fairly vacant except for one room which inhabits the landlord’s son with his beautiful red hair.

The dark clothed man approaches the Inn door and upon seeing it’s panels boarded up, goes to the back where he knows the landlord’s son stays.

He taps lightly on the window frame. 3 quick knocks and 2 delayed, a pattern they used many times before. Like magic the redhead appears in the window, his pale skin illuminating in the darkness.

“Ian,” the dark haired man whispers.

“Mickey,” He says back, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s been a bit.”

“Only a week,” Mickey retorts.

“Seemed like forever.”

If it was daytime one would see Mickey blushing but instead he did it secretly under the moonlight. “Any day without you seems like an eternity, Gallagher.” Mickey says lightly but full of meaning.

“Missed you.”

Mickey nods, taking that in. “So you gonna let me in or we just gonna whisper all night so your dad and his workers can catch us?”

Ian snickers. “No workers tonight,” he says as he opens the window wider to allow Mickey inside. “Frank’s out looking for other Inns he can run to the ground.”

“Hmm and doesn’t give a fuck about leaving here by yourself?” Mickey asks crawling through the open window.

“You met Frank?” Ian laughs. “He doesn’t give a fuck about anything except money and booze.”

This was all too true. The thing they both could always connect with was the fact that both their dads were pieces of shit. Though Ian has reassured Mickey that Mickey’s own father wins that prize and Mickey couldn’t argue with fact. Doesn’t mean Frank’s carelessness doesn’t piss Mickey off.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m here then, huh?” Mickey says standing up and grinning.

“I can handle it on my own”

“Sure you can, tough guy,” Mickey sticks his tongue out and wipes his dusty hands on his pants. He looks at Ian then. Love, longing and lust in his eyes. He walks over to the redhead, his boots thumping on the hard wooden floor. He takes his gloves off as he walks, leaving them behind. He makes it to Ian and smooths his now gloveless hand on Ian’s face, his fingertips tracing his jawline as his thumb caresses his cheek, moving down to his lips.

“Missed you too,” Mickey says, looking into Ian’s eyes before he closes them as he pulls himself closer to Ian for a kiss.

Their lips slam gently against each other’s. Ian’s then parting slightly to suck on Mickey’s bottom lip. Their tongues threaten to escape until finally they’re let out each dancing in each other’s mouths.

Mickey shrugs out of his jacket as Ian goes for Mickey’s belt. They walk towards Ian’s bed Mickey leaving his jacket behind and Ian turns them around to place Mickey on his bed, his lips still not parting from the other man. He lays on top of Mickey as Mickey kicks his boots off. They finally part as Ian grabs the band of Mickey’s pants and pulls them down the man’s legs, then undoing his own.

Ian makes love his partner, thrusting into him till he hears whines of pleasure escaping Mickey’s lips. They fuck well into the night until they exhaust themselves and lay in each other’s arms.

Ian traces the outline of Mickey’s chest with his fingers. “You think someday we’ll be able to do this every night?” Ian whispers.

Mickey moves his head up to look at Ian. “What do you mean?”

“You ever think about the future? Us being together? Living in a small place outside of town?” Ian readies himself for a laugh or to be told he’s stupid but it doesn’t come.

“Every fuckin day.” Mickey says instead.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I didn’t always want to do this you know? Scamming people, stealing from them but I thought maybe if I made enough I could move away from here where no one knows me and I can start over. Do something honest and take you out of this shitty place.”

Ian smiles fondly. “It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah… You think your dad will ever let you have this place?”

“You mean to myself?” Ian scoffs. “No way. Unless he finds something better.”

“You’d think that wouldn’t be to hard.” Mickey laughs.

“Hey we have some well paying customers?”

“Oh really? Where are they now? I never seen more than one person here besides you.”

“Haha very funny.” Ian says back. “Well maybe if you were here more, other than running around late at night doing God knows what.” It accidentally got too seriously. It always does. Neither ever wants to acknowledge how dangerous Mickey’s “job” is so it usually comes out by accident.

“Wow. Ouch.” Mickey starts to get up.

“I didn’t mean-“

“No no I get it.” Mickey grabs his shirt and puts it on. He sits up on the bed slipping on his pants.

“You’re not leaving are you?”

Mickey sighs and looks down, then back at Ian. “No, you asshole.” He says lightly. “Just getting some water.”

Mickey comes back a few minutes later and slips back into bed. Ian’s laying there still awake and Mickey moves to his side. He grabs Ian’s arm and wraps it around him, the redhead shifting on the bed to more easily drape his arm around Mickey. They move into each other, spooning, the perfect fit. They fall asleep in each other’s arms not to be awaken till late morning.

Mickey wakes up to the smell of eggs cooking. He comes downstairs to see Ian making breakfast, a thing he never got while essentially living on the road. It feels close to noon and Mickey’s surprised how late he slept.

“Mornin’” Ian greets over the sizzling noise of the pan cooking their food.

“Mornin’” Mickey says back. “How long you been up?”

“Only a little bit before you,” Ian smiles. “You hungry?”

“God yes.” Mickey lets out, taking a seat by the table.

They have a good breakfast and Mickey helps Ian with some things around the Inn though no matter what they do the place still looked like a dump afterwards.

As daylight turns to evening Mickey decides to depart. They say their goodbyes both men looking solemn.

“One day I swear.” Mickey says, referencing their conversation from the night before. “One day we can be together fully.”

Ian nods and gives a small smile. “Promise?”

Mickey shakes his head, grinning. “Yeah. I do.”

Mickey grabs his coat and opens the door.

“When will I see you again?” Ian asks.

“Few days?”

“Few days turned into weeks last time.”

Mickey sighs. “Right? Tomorrow then?” He grin slyly at Ian as if to say ‘is that soon enough for you’.

Ian nods, accepting. “You have a time?”

Mickey laughs. “I’ll come to thee in the moonlight” he says in mock extravagance.

Ian chuckles. “You better.”

“The only thing that will get in my way is the devil himself.”

Ian rolls his eyes and tries not to smile.

“That sure enough for you?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Mickey laughs and turns around to Ian. “I’ll see you then.”

Ian nods, grabs Mickey’s collar, and pulls him in for a goodbye kiss.

“Be careful.” Ian says after breaking it.

Mickey puts on his hat, “Always am.”

Mickey turns away with a small wave and gets on his horse. Ian watches the dark clothed man ride off to the distance till he can no longer see him. Neither aware of their fate that lies ahead.

Evening turns to night and night turns to morning which Ian spends mostly daydreaming in bed. Near midday he gets up to clean up the Inn some more. Though they weren’t expecting anyone for the night Ian knows if his father discovered the Inn a mess under his care Ian would never hear the end of it. Luckily he’s not expecting the old man till another day or so.

Which is why it strikes Ian as odd when he hears the sound of a horse galloping in the distance outside the window. Thinking it might be Mickey coming early he eagerly runs to the window to look out.

His grin drops quickly and a dark cloud of despair looms over him as his heart halts in fear.

It’s not Mickey. It’s as far from Mickey as could be. And it’s not just one horse and one man. It’s several infecting the beautiful scenery with their red clothing, the same color as the innocents they slaughtered in the name of whatever law they thought they were upholding.

Ian quickly backs from the window, holding his breath. Maybe they’ll think no one is home, it already looks that way from the outside. A few seconds he hears loud banging come from the front door. Once, twice, then three times.

“We know you’re in there,” one yells loudly through the wood and Ian swallows hard. The quicker he handles this the sooner they’ll go away.

“C-coming!” Ian shouts. He looks out the doors window and sees 4 men standing by the door. Even on a good day Ian’s not sure he could take them.

Ian unlocks the door and undoes the bolts. He opens the door slightly only to have it shoved further open by the man closest to the door. He’s pushed out of the way to make room for the other three.

“Check upstairs!” the man that shoved Ian barks at the others. He watches as two men run up. “You check down here” He orders the last man.

“Hey you can’t just-” Ian yells, being cut off by the order giver pointing a gun at him.

“We can do whatever the fuck we want. We hear news of you inhabiting a fugitive.”

Ian breathes in deeply, trying not to let his fear be known. He looks the man straight in the eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The man just grins knowingly. “Sure you don't.” He puts his cold hand to Ian’s cheek in mock admiration.

The two men that went upstairs come down as the one searching also returns. “He’s not here but we did find this.” One of the men from upstairs says and unfolds a piece of paper from his pocket, handing it to the man that was talking to Ian.

“‘Til next time. Soon is never soon enough. -Love M’” He reads out loud. “‘M’ huh? Who’s M then? We know it’s not your mother. She’s long gone.”

Ian searches his brain trying to find another name to say but he can’t.

“We know about your relationship with the Milkovich boy. And we also happen to know he was here last night until the early morning. You see we’ve been keeping a close lookout on him but he always manages to escape out of our grasp. Well not this time. Right men?”

All the men nod.

“He just can’t resist the Inn keeper’s redhaired son can he? Now tell us? When exactly is ‘next time’?”

Ian shrug. “He just shows up I don’t know when.”

The man nods and circles around Ian. “So you didn’t think to take advantage of having your old man out of the place for another night?”

Ian shakes his head.

“You see we have reports of some action going on about a mile from here so we’re guessing Mr. Milkovich is due for another visit soon.”  Ian still shaking his head takes steps back away from the men.

The men come closer to Ian and his fight or flight instincts kick in.

He dashes behind him but one of the four men is there already blocking his path. He tries to turn to find another but each step he takes another man is there blocking him. They move closer and closer encircling him. Can’t flight must fight.

The leader makes a grab for him and Ian decks him straight in the jaw causing the man to stumble back.

“Grab him!” the man yells ordering his others.

Ian tries to punch, kick, hit, anything to get them away from him but despite his struggles the unharmed men grab him. They drag him to one of the rooms by the front, the window overlooking the path to the Inn a mile or 2 back. The same path Mickey was expected to come on in a few hours. Ian’s not sure of the time, it could be sooner than he thinks.

They force his arms behind him and one unravels a long strand of rope. Ian yells out a “No!” and tries to wrangle out of the grips of the other 3 men but to no avail. They bound him tightly, wrapping it all around his body and tie him to attention on the bedpost closest to the window.

One of the other men brings in a riffle and hands it to the boss.

“Your face is going to be the last thing he sees before his fate is sealed.” He man whispers in Ian’s ear. “Betrayed by his lover.”

Ian breathes in and bites his lip harshly, his jaw sliding forward in a tough demeanor. The man just looks at Ian and almost laughs. The man, gun in hand, takes it and pokes the barrel into Ian’s ribs. “This is to insure no funny business.”

He then ties it in an upright position, the muzzle just under Ian’s chest. “And in case you thought screaming would help…” The man starts as he pulls out a cloth to tie around Ian’s mouth but not before Ian spits in his face.

The idea was that one man would be on the ground by Ian’s feet, hand on the trigger in case Ian tried anything but out of sight so that Mickey wouldn’t see the man from distance away. The men quickly grew tired of looking out the window. When they figure the Milkovich boy wouldn’t be by for a few hours or so they leave Ian alone in the room the rifle still strapped to his side and venture through the Inn for booze or other things to pass the time.

Ian waits and waits, staring out the window, for once praying desperately Mickey doesn’t come. The night comes and Ian’s about to pass out despite the uncomfortable position he was in but then he hears it. A small trotting noise deep in the distance and if it wasn’t the noise he stayed up for night after night he wouldn’t have noticed it.

He tries to wrangle out of  his ropes but they’re wound too tight and the trotting noise becomes louder, faster. He looks behind him at the open door and still sees the men sitting around the table drinking, throwing cards on the table, laughing.

So they didn’t hear...not yet. Ian tries again to wrangle free but the rope cuts his arms. He has to do something give some kind of warning he can’t… Ian looks down at the gun, barrel pointed right at him.

A warning, a loud noise. Ian was not going to let Mickey think he betrayed him, not when he could instead save him.

The only thing he was able to do was move his arms to his side, he struggled to speed up the process as he heard the trotting come closer and closer the men growing quieter.

Finally his hands reached the trigger of the gun, his hands dripping with his own blood, though none of that would matter soon.

He looks out the window and he can see Mickey now, though still too far in the distance for Mickey to see him. “I’ll come to thee in the moonlight” he remembers Mickey jokingly saying the day before.

Ian takes one last breath in and whispers an“I love you” to the midnight air. Then pulls the trigger. The gun taking one life and saving another.

The noise of the blast echoes through the Inn and to the outside.

Mickey rides his horse in the night not so patiently waiting to once again be acquainted with Ian tonight. They trot along their usual path, Mickey would make them go faster if they didn’t already have a tiring day. But there will be plenty of time to rest once Mickey gets to the Inn. Finally he sees the Inn in the distance, the lights were on which Mickey thought odd as that never happens unless there’s guests in there which there hasn’t been in months. But Mickey chalks it up to Ian probably still trying to aimlessly clean everything.

They make their way closer and Mickey notices one window, the usually vacant room’s lights were on and there was something in the window. Mickey tries to make it out from the distance but before he could he hears a loud blast coming from the Inn.

His horse freaks out by the sudden noise and goes up on it’s  hind legs desperately trying to turn itself around.

“It’s okay, boy.” MIckey says to his horse. It probably wasn’t even the Inn, maybe the property behind it. Ian doesn’t even have guns in his house or if he did they were locked up. Mickey is about to steer his scared horse to the Inn still but then sees men run out of the Inn coming towards him and Mickey can make them out clearly.

“Shit!” he says. He steers his horse in the opposite direction back to where they came, he kicks behind his horse to get him to move faster and he listens. We’ll check on Ian tomorrow . He tells himself. Thinking how the gunshot must’ve spooked the redhead, he always hated Mickey needed to carry one. “Don’t worry I’ll never use it on someone unless I need to” he had once promised him.

The men struggle to get on their horses to follow the Milkovich boy, 2 fall over, one seemed to still be inside and one by the time he finally gets on his horse Mickey is far in the distance leaving the man no way to catch up.

“Dammit!” The man says getting off his horse just as the man who stayed inside runs out.

“We lost him” he says when the man runs to him. “The kid?” he nudges to the Inn.

The man that came from inside shakes his head. “Dead.”

“Dammit!” The man yells again kicking in the grass. “That was our closest shot.”

“That’s your worry still?,” the other asks. “We just killed an innocent.”

“We didn’t kill him he did that to himself,” he yells back. “And he was hardly innocent.”  He looks at the other men behind him, getting up from the place they fell. “We should get going boys,” he announces. “We want to be gone in case someone comes to investigate the noise.”

“What about the boy?” one of the other men asks dusting off his hands.

“Leave him.”

Mickey makes it to a smaller Inn close to the other side of town, they allow him to keep his horse in their shed for the night. He gets to his room. Exhaustion overtakes his worried mind and he decides to go to sleep. He’ll try to get word to Ian in the morning.

Morning comes and he goes to a nearby tavern for breakfast. As he eats he debates on sending Ian a letter or just making his way back to him after he eats skipping his “job” for the day. He’s about to take the last bite when he hears people talking by him.

“Did you hear?” one woman starts to her friend. “That poor boy stayed there all alone only to die there alone.”

They have Mickey’s attention.

“Oh I know. Terrible thing. No one else was home?”

“No one else. He was shot right through the chest.”

“What about the rest of the family? Do they know?”

“Not sure. They all seemed to have gone separate ways. Just the middle child stayed I suppose.” They go on.

“Wasn’t he illegitimate…”

All this sounds too familiar but maybe it’s just Mickey thinking too much of it. Mickey clears his throat and turns to the lady.

“Excuse me, sorry. What boy?”

“Hmm?”

“The boy you’re talking about.”

“Oh yes. Terrible thing. He died last night.”

The noise. The bang.

“What. Was. The. Boy’s. Name!”

“Oh I’m not sure. He was one of those families on the other side of town. Scottish folks...or no wait Irish?” She turns to her friend and she nods.

“Definitely Irish. Gallaway, Galvin...Gall...uhh”

Mickey swallows hard. “G-Gallagher…?”

“That’s it!” The woman yells pointing to Mickey.

Mickey nearly falls out of his chair his face going sickly white. He gets up and grips his table tight.

“You alright, dear. You look like you’ve seen a g-”

“I ..I have to go.” Mickey steadies himself and makes his way to the door.

“Hey you didn’t pay for your food!” the owner yells.

Mickey stumbles back, taking everything out of his pockets. “Here… I don’t need it anymore.” He places everything on the counter and manages to find his way outside. He grips the wall as he makes his way to the alley way.

He slides down it gripping his head in his hands. “No, no, no,” he repeats softly to himself. “No, no,” he says louder till he’s yelling it, slamming his hands against the brick wall behind him. He punches it till his hands bleeds.

He ignores the questioning onlookers until he notices one coming to him maybe to tell him to move, maybe ask what’s wrong.

He gets up dusts himself off and wipes his now bloody knuckles on his pants.  He walks over to the barn, takes his horse, and walks him out all done robotically, emotionless. He hops on his horse and takes off down the road, to where he knew they would be, the men that were after him and the men that took everything away.

It doesn’t take long for him to find them, all huddled around each other on their redcoats. He doesn’t take his time, he doesn’t stop. He sends him and his horse towards them full speed, takes out his gun and starts shooting. He clips one of the men in the shoulder and he falls down in pain by the time the others take notice Mickey is there in front of them. He knocks the other down as he dismounts from his horse and punches the man beside him in the face knocking him down. He takes out his gun again but didn’t notice the other man unaccounted for. He hears a loud shot not coming from his gun then feels the pain but he doesn’t fall. He turns to his attacker still holding his gun out to him.

“You killed him,” Mickey says to the man, his arm seeping with blood.

The man just grins. “Do you want to know what he said before he died?”

Mickeys breathes in and grits his teeth. “He’s dead and now soon you will be too.”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” He looks behind Mickey but before Mickey can turn back to look he hears another gunshot and feels more pain. This time the impact making him fall down.

His grip still held onto his gun and despite his stomach burning now he lifts it up.

“Put the gun down kid,” the man in front of him says giving him an evil smile. “It’s over.”

“Why? You’re gonna kill me anyways. Might as well take one of you with me.” He grips his hand on the trigger but due to the impact of the gunshot on his shoulder it’s not tight enough and it’s kicked out of his hand. He watches it fall to the ground and being taken up by the man in front.

He hears the click of the chamber moving and he knows that’s it. The rest is blackness.

The last gunshot rang through the field making the last of the birds flee that stuck around and then it was silent. The young Milkovich boy laid in a pool of his own blood with his hand resting on his heart. One of the men was spooked when he thought he saw a smile spread on the dead boy’s lips minutes after the puddle grew larger.

“What’s that on his hand?” one asks and they look at the gold glistening in the sunlight.

One of the men other grabs his hand and looks at the jewelry. Engraved in the ring are the initials I.G.

“What is it? A ring? Take it.” another says.

“Nah. It’s just some cheap tin. Not worth anything.” The man lays Mickey’s hand back on his chest.

“Lets see what else he’s carrying.” The leader says bending down on the ground.

“Leave it.” he’s told back. “He’s been through enough.”

“He’s dead!”

“Exactly. You got him. You won. Now let him have peace.”

The leader scoffs but lets the body be.

They leave. Each men getting on their respective horses. The leader telling the men they’ll each get their share of the reward soon.

But the thing is.

There wasn’t a reward because there was never a bounty.

The men were never caught and the lovers never given justice.

They say now on a particular cool evening you can hear the faint tots of a horse, some even seeing a dark hooded figure in the distance only to disappear in thin air. It’s also said if you happen to fall upon the long abandoned inn you’ll see the highwayman meeting with his lover once more The love they have for each other uniting them in eternity.