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Once upon a time, in this tiny village called Chicago South Side, lived Little Red. His real name was Ian Gallagher, but people used to call him Little Red because of his ginger hair since he was a small squirt, and the nickname kind of stuck. Even now that he had become a tall, handsome young man, people would call him "Little Red! Little Red!" and Ian never once complained.
The village was surrounded by a thick forest, where bandits and thieves hid and ambushed poor passersby. Not many people liked to travel through the forest, but Ian was courageous and intrepid, and villagers always praised his bravery.
One day his older sister Fiona called him and gave him a basket. Inside there was food and, under it, several money rolls.
"So, there's the food that Grammy likes and also the revenues from sales of the last batch," she whispered the last words. "Ask her if the next one is ready and bring it with you."
Ian nodded. It was not the first time Fiona had sent him to his grandmother Peggy. The Gallagher family had a good business going on these days. Peggy had a plantation of magical herbs deep in the woods. The green kind with five leaves. Grandma would tend to her plants, and once they were ready to be used, she'd roll the product in paper. Ian was the one who had to collect them and bring Peggy the revenues, while his little brother Carl was assigned to the selling of this magical cure for pain and anxiety.
Ian got ready for the journey to his grammy's house and exited the village to turn into the woods. Little Red had never feared the forest; that was why he was the one Fiona had chosen to do the errand.
Ian was lost in thought when he heard a voice coming from behind him.
"If it isn't Little Red! Whatcha doing here, fuckhead? Want to get robbed?"
Ian rolled his eyes and turned around to face the short guy who had just talked.
"No, I just need to get to Grammy, Mickey. If you could just let me go—"
His words were interrupted by the other guy, who pushed Ian against a tree trunk. "Yeah. Not gonna happen. Gonna bring my quote to Pops, so... Give me your fucking money."
Mickey 'Big Bad Wolf' Milkovich. He was part of the infamous Milkovich family, a gang of cruel bandits with their father as the boss. They were a plague for the villagers, who couldn't pass through the woods without their wallets becoming lighter. Even so, the good humor of the Chicago South Side's folks never faltered, and Mickey had been given that nickname because he was a short, grumpy boy.
"Sure there's nothing else you'd like me to give you?" Ian asked with a smirk. Dear Little Red wasn't stupid. He had noticed Mickey's interested eyes and the fact that the Big Bad Wolf had always had Ian as a target to rob. The shorter guy had a crush on him, but he would never admit it. It was kind of a pity, really. Because Ian wouldn't have minded banging that ass.
"What?! Don't you even try that shit, faggot."
Ian sighed. "C'mon, Mick. Go rob someone else; have some sort of civic pride."
But Mickey, probably spurred by Ian's innuendo, was already on the attack and launched himself at Ian. Unfortunately for Wolfy, Ian was trained in the ancient art of knighthood and was quick to hit Mickey straight in his throat, causing him to collapse on the ground.
"Really sorry, Mick. Gotta go!" Ian bid his goodbye to Mickey, who was still trying to breathe normally. He didn't stay enough to let the bandit get back on his feet.
***
When Mickey was up again, Little Red was already walking to his grandmother's house. Taking the longer route, of course. Because the gingerfuck loved to stroll around the bushes. Not that Mickey had ever taken the time to notice that. Absolutely not.
"Fuck."
Time to go home was almost up, and he still hadn't robbed anyone. In his house, every one of his siblings had to do their own share, and their father, Terry, wouldn't appreciate Mickey's lack of booty. He thought of waiting for another passerby, but Ian had been the first since that morning. The only thing left to do was to rob Peggy Gallagher's place before Ian's arrival.
Not completely satisfied with his decision, the Big Bad Wolf took the shortest route to arrive at Grammy's house. The place appeared empty. The old hag was probably working in her plantation, giving Mickey enough time to search for money or expensive stuff and be gone before Ian.
With great agility, Mickey entered the house and started looking for valuables. He knew the best place to look was the bedroom, and, as expected, he found some jewels and a shiny cigar case. Completely absorbed in his search, he had lost track of time. He jolted in surprise at the sound of the main door being opened. What time was it? Oh, fuck, that was Little Red for sure.
Without knowing what to do except not engaging in another fight with Ian, Mickey hid himself under the blankets, hoping that Ian would never come into the bedroom.
***
Of course, Little Red barged into his grandmother's bedroom. She wasn't in the kitchen nor in the living room. That left the bedroom or to go look for her in the plantation. He heard the sound of sheets rustling together and thought Peggy was there.
"Grammy, you here?"
A curse and several coughs followed his question, and a distinctively male voice disguised as feminine answered.
"No." Another cough. "Yeah, I mean, yes, dear."
Ian gingerly grabbed the baseball bat placed near the entrance. He was going to crash his skull if the intruder was a thief or be embarrassed as hell if the guy was one of his grandma's lovers.
What he saw instead was Mickey 'Big Bad Wolf' Milkovich covered by a blanket to his eyes and a wool bonnet covering his black hair. Ian bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh. Mickey had probably tried to steal some stuff, and he should be punished, but seeing him in that moment, dressed as his grandmother... Fuck, it was just too ridiculous.
Ian moved closer to the bed and sat close to Mickey.
"Oh, Grammy. Do you feel sick?" he asked, faking concern.
Mickey's eyes widened. Had Ian really bought it?
"Huh. Yes." And he coughs for a little bit, just to make the point clear.
"I'm so sorry, Grammy. But really, look at your wrinkles; they disappeared! And your eyes? Never so bright!"
"Lucky me?" Mickey replied, trying to sound as feminine as possible, muffling his voice with the blanket.
"And... no way. Your hair is so dark now!"
"Dyed it yesterday."
Ian pulled down the blanket enough to see Mickey's chin. The other guy was quick to push the cover up again.
"Granny! Your stubble! Didn't know you were so hairy!"
"It's the menopause!"
Ian scoffed. Mickey hadn't noticed the redhead's movements because he was too busy poorly faking to be his grandmother, but Ian's hand was now under the warm blankets. Swiftly, he grabbed Mickey between his legs, causing the other guy to widen his eyes at the shock.
"What the fuck!" he shouted, completely forgetting to keep his grandmotherly composure.
"That's a miracle, Grammy! You grew a dick!" Ian exclaimed, bursting out laughing the second later.
Mickey didn't need more confirmations. Ian fucking knew, probably since the beginning. He threw the bonnet on the floor and was ready to bolt, but Little Red was quick to stop him from jumping off the bed.
"Oh my, if it isn't the Big Bad Wolf! You wanted to eat me?" Ian asked with a big, shit-eating grin. He opened Mickey's legs, looking down on the semi-erection the shorter guy was sporting through his pants. "What if I eat you out instead?"
At these words Mickey's breath hitched. On any other occasion, he would've told Ian to fuck off; he wasn't a fag. But, since they were already on a comfy bed and Ian was with his ginger head so close to his crotch...
"Alright, Little Red, show me whatcha got," he said, licking his lips.
Ian smiled and busied himself with Mickey's pants.
***
Peggy Gallagher was fucking tired. She was old now, and working in the plantation wasn't good for her back. She definitely needed a good bath and sleep for at least a few hours in her big bed.
But her plans shattered when she heard deep moans and gasps coming from her bedroom. Peggy immediately went for her rifle. She was old, but she'd be damned if she couldn't still shoot with precision.
She barged into her room with the rifle pointed towards the bed to discover her nephew Ian giving it to the neighborhood bandit. Their faces went blank when they saw her with a weapon in her arms.
"What the fuck!" she exclaimed. Mickey and Ian rolled out of bed with inhuman speed. Mickey scrambled to the door without even looking one at her. Ian murmured some apologies.
"But I left you food and revenues in the living room!" her redhead nephew added, before following Mickey's quick steps. She heard the main door being opened and slammed shut.
Peggy shook her head and sat on the bed. On a corner of the bed.
Fuck, she was definitely too old for this shit.