It starts off slowly, just the soft flick of a tongue against his ear. Mickey hasn't even really registered what's going on before the flicks turn into gentle nibbles. He buries his face deeper into the pillow and groans when he feels the wet swipe of Ian's tongue work its way down his back. Leaving behind not only the wetness of his tongue but the moisture of his freshly showered body, Ian continues his passage down Mickey's body. When his tongue reaches the top of Mickey's boxers he lowers them just enough so the cleft of Mickey's ass is visible and kisses the top of each cheek.
He waits for the boxers to be lowered more or at least for there to be more ass kissing but nothing comes. With a noise of disappointment Mickey crawls up to the headboard and sits against it. Ian, still on his knees at the edge of the bed, seems to be lost in his own world staring at the wall behind Mick. "Yo, tough guy, you alright there?" Mickey questions as he throws Ian a pillow.
"Yeah." he answers as he tosses the pillow back, as an afterthought he says "Nikolai." It's more of a question than a statement and it leaves Mick slightly confused.
"Uh, no bitch, it's Mickey."
The laugher that follows has Mickey a bit pissed off, he wonders how Ian would feel if he went around calling him other random guy's names. Knowing Ian, he would probably pull a Svetlana and threaten to do them bodily harm. He always thought he was the only borderline psycho, quick to hurt someone. Yet, it turns out those two, with their claw hammer and throat punches, were just as bad if not worse. He can feel his eyebrows getting higher as he continues to sit looking at Ian who is still chuckling to himself. With an eye roll he asks him if he's done with his damn cackling.
"Mick, I know your damn name. It's my favorite word to moan when I cum." the cheeky bastard says with a wink. "I was just thinking about baby names. I think it'll be a good idea if we stick with Russian first names that way Yev won't feel like the oddball."
"So instead we'll have two oddballs with names people can't pronounce?"
"Nikolai isn't hard to say, plus we could call him Nicky. So I'll have a Mickey and a Nicky." Ian says as he scoots closer to sit next to Mickey.
"You're such a fucken sap."
"True, but that's why you love me."
"Ooh, is that why? I just figured you knew I kept you around for the monster you have under your towel." Mickey says waving his hand over Ian's covered cock.
"Who would have ever thought you, Mickey Milkovich, were a size queen."
"Wasn't 'till I met you." Mickey answer with a smirk
A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before Ian stretches his body out and pulls Mick down with him, long legs and strong arms are soon wrapped around him cocooning Mick into Ian's heat. It's not exactly cuddling, because Mickey doesn't do domestic shit like cuddling and talking baby names late at night, it's just something they do to keep warm. With a big dreary house like this one it's never quite warm enough so body heat is the best solution. At least that's what Mick tells himself.
"Do you think Lip was right?"
And there it was.
Mickey had been waiting for it since the stupid beak like bastard left their house. Did he think Lip was right? Yes. Maybe. Fuck, he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he had decided years ago to never agree with fucken Philip, it went against all that was right in the world. Of course Mickey worried about the pressure and stress it would cause Ian with bringing a baby into their home.
Mickey always worried.
He was always afraid something would set Ian off and he'd relapse into the crazy ass bat wielding paranoid fuck he had been years ago. Mickey also knew lying to Ian wouldn't help any either. "Come on man, you know I don't ever think Lip is right about anything. But what I do think is that you and Svet get these crazy ass ideas without really thinking shit through. And I'm the one who has to deal with the aftermath."
"If you're talking about the stupid hamster I said I was sorry!"
Stupid fucken hamster.
Mickey told them to not even go into the damn pet store because they were not pet people, but as usual he was ignored. An hour and almost a hundred dollars later Yev was the proud owner of Loki the hamster. With a ball to roam the house in and a cage that was nicer than their home, Mick already hated the thing. Until he saw how excited Yev was to show everyone his new pet, then he learned to tolerate it. Things had been great, Loki didn't make too much noise, he didn't make a mess all over the place and he didn't have to deal with it. That was until the excitement of a new thing in their house wore off and people forgot to feed it, or would leave it in its ball all the time and Mickey would trip over it in the middle of the night.
His first thought was to drown it since no one else took care of it but that sounded like something Terry would do and Mickey refused to the same kind of dad he had been raised by. So Mick, being the newly good parent he was, would clean the damn cage and feed Loki just so his kid would have a pet he could talk to when he was playing in his room. A few weeks went by with no problems until the day Yev wanted to take Loki with him to Gemma and Amy's but they couldn't find the damn thing.
They finally found him a week later when they followed the pungent smell of decaying flesh coming from behind a shelf. As luck would have it, who but Mickey had to deal with a traumatized Yev who cried for 2 hours straight because his best friend was dead. Then he had to be in charge of a hamster funeral since Svetlana had said her only involvement of the hamster's demise would be holding the trash bag they tossed the damn thing into. With Ian conveniently having online homework with a deadline it left Yev and Mick to some good quality father-son bonding as they dug a grave for Loki. Mick even securely placed a small cross, which Yev had made for the damn rodent, in the grave. Sometimes Mick can just picture how bad of an ass beating his 17 year old self would give him if he ever saw the pansy ass bitch he had become.
"I never thought I'd be making a speech at hamster's funerals and that was all your fault because you didn't listen when I told you no! Svet's the same damn way, she'll ask for my opinion just to go do the exact opposite of what I said. So when this kid is crying in the middle of the night I better not be woken up to deal with it because it sure as fuck wasn't my idea to have another baby." Mickey finishes with a flare as he turns away from Ian so he can finally get some sleep after their tiring day.
Somewhere between sleep and consciousness he hears the soft thumping of a new cigarette pack hitting against Ian's palm, the flick of a lighter is next and Mickey knows he won't be getting any sleep any time soon. He's not surprised when Ian starts his ramblings again. "How about Ivanna for a girl? It's almost a combination of Ian and Svetlana." followed by the crackling of burning paper from the cigarette and an exhale before Ian continues, "Vladimir is a cool name too."
Mickey tried to ignore him, he really did, because he knew if he just stayed quiet long enough Ian would eventually go to sleep. Yet, before he can stop himself he hears himself saying "Vladimir is a psychopath's name don't fuck up the kid from the very beginning."
"I knew you weren't asleep." Ian says between smokey breaths "Hey, Mick, can I ask you a question?"
"Besides the dumb ass one you just asked?" Mickey asks as he shifts his body back around to face Ian.
Ian just scowls at him and keeps talking. "Why did you agree so fast to let me and Svet try for a baby? I was expecting a punch or two, maybe a broken beer bottle, something exciting. Your reaction was kind of a disappointment."
"I can punch you now if you want?"
"Maybe later. So what made you decide it was ok?"
There were a million things Mickey would rather be doing than having this conversation.
Swimming in shark infested waters.
He could be hanging out with a swarm of killer bees.
Hell, he'd even call Lip and talk to him about his boring ass job then tell Ian why he was fine with the whole baby idea. How was he supposed to tell Ian that when he and Svetlana were trying to convince him it was a good idea he could picture Yev and a little red head holding hands and play outside together. That he could vision Ian dancing around the kitchen with a freckled face little boy who looked just like him, like he used to do when Yev was a baby. Mickey didn't do emotional sappy shit like that.
If he was honest, he had been pissed at the beginning of their whole bright idea though, he did want to punch Ian for agreeing with Svet. Ian was his. It was bad enough he already had to share Ian with Svetlana because they lived in the same house but letting them sleep together was pushing it too fucken far. He was also slightly offended that he hadn't been picked to father the second kid too. Mickey was damn proud of the kid he had helped make. Yevgeny was smart, cute, funny and a criminal mastermind in the making and those were all qualities that Mick had given him dammit! But as he stood there yelling at them, telling them they had lost their damn minds, he could see Ian's kid. And that's all it had really taken for him to say yes, because who wouldn't want a miniature version of the person they loved.
"Don't make a big fucken deal about what I'm gonna tell you ok? But I said yes because I could see you and your kid, same matching hair and freckles, you know? And I thought it wouldn't be so bad having a little version of you running around with Yev." Mickey says as he looks at anything but Ian. He clears his throat a few times and even resolves to fluff his perpetually flat pillow just to avoid the look he knows Ian is giving him.
A warm hand is suddenly turning his face and the hard press of Ian's lips is soon on his. Ian moves his lips to brush lightly against his neck, his cheek and finally back to Mickey's lips where they belong. When the wet swipe of Ian's tongue meets Mickey's mouth he gladly opens up letting Ian invade his mouth. Their kiss is kept gentle, slow and undemanding unlike the usual kisses they share. Ian shifts his body to press further into Mickey's as they continue to explore each other's mouths. With one last swipe of his tongue and a gentle bite to his bottom lip Ian pulls away from Mickey. Just by the smile Ian is giving him, Mickey knows what's going to be said next is going to make him regret ever telling Ian anything.
"So, what you're telling me is that you love me so much that you want a little version of me running around the house too?" Ian smirks as he settles himself between Mickey's legs pressing sloppy kisses to his chest.
"Didn't I tell you to not make a big fucken deal out of it?" Mick argues with no real heat behind his words.
"Mick, that's the most romantic thing you've ever told me in all our years knowing each other. What did you expect me to do, just say ok and move on?"
"I say romantic shit all the time!"
"Telling me how much you love my dick doesn't count as romance."
"Says who?"
"Did the kid look exactly like me? I need details of this vision you got."
"Get the hell away from me. This is why I don't tell you shit."
"How about you tell me what you saw and I'll find other things to occupy myself with." Ian tells him as he trails more kisses down his body. The tug of his boxers being pulled off follow and even if Mickey had planned to tell Ian what he saw all train of thought leaves him when he feels the wet swipe of Ian's tongue on his cock. He's then engulfed in the warm wet heat of Ian's mouth and he knows he couldn't even put together a coherent sentence right now if he tried. With a suctioned pop Ian pulls off of him "Are you gonna tell me what you saw?"
"I'm not gonna tell you about our kids holding hands and playing together while my dick is in your mouth."
"They were holding hands?" Ian asks in such a squealish voice Mick wants to punch him.
"Get the fuck off me. I'll just take care of myself." Mickey says much to Ian's amusement.
"Fine. I'll shut up. Because I know I'll eventually get it out of you."
Mickey attacks Ian's mouth before the red head can start running it again. It's not soft like the earlier kiss, this is rough, all tongues and teeth clashing. Mickey's hands can't stop touching Ian's skin, alternating between rubbing and squeezing up and down his body. With Ian's towel long forgotten, Mickey wedges his hand between them to stroke Ian's growing erection. They continue kissing, gasping for breath every time their mouths part, they snatch the air the need before pressing together again. Mickey silently hopes there will never come a day he can't taste Ian in his mouth. It's too much and not enough Mickey thinks as he feels Ian, who had been nuzzled between his legs, shifting with frustration.
With sounds of discontent and desire caught in his throat Mickey tightens his legs around Ian. They finally break from their kiss as Ian pants into Micks neck, skin flushed and moist with sweat, mouth swollen and eyes half closed in dazed need, "I gotta get up and get the new bottle of lube"
"Just use spit. Hurry and get on me, you're taking too damn long." Mickey tells him, but Ian has already pulled away from him, he eyes Mickey hungrily before he turns to get off the bed.
Mickey will never be able to accurately or passionately describe what he feels at these precise moments. Because it's one thing for him to look onto Ian's toned beautiful body with its lines and crevices that Mickey could never get (no matter the amount of time he spent at the stupid gym) but another for Ian to look on to the scarred body of the older man and mirror the exact same need and want that Mickey has in his eyes. He sees the tapered hip bones, trails and shadows of coarse red hair and the steady beat of a pulse in the pale skin of Ian's throat. Then there's the hardened flesh between his long legs, purpling with its first drop of want for Mickey. And that's when Mickey decides he's so glad he lacked the self-control to stay away from Ian all those years ago. Because when it came to Ian, Mickey could never control himself. Even years ago, when this had been all new and forbidden, there was always something there pulling Mickey in. He used to think it was just because for those brief few minutes that Ian was deep within Mickey's body he could be himself, unafraid of who he was and what he was doing. Now, he knew the lack of self-control was just due to the love he had for him.
Once Ian is back from searching through their closet he falls onto Mick in a tangle of long limbs and hot skin. With a clash of lips, teeth and tongues their mouths meet again. The soft pop of the bottle cap being closed is the only warning Mickey gets before he feels Ian's greased finger breaching his entrance. With the gentle in and out glide forcing a moan from Mickey, Ian pulls back from their kiss to watch as he slowing adds another finger. Mickey whimpers, and looks at Ian who is fascinated with the motions his hand is making, watching the tight pink flesh that flirts with the length of his finger. Flickering open just enough around him, the muscles clenching, pulling and pushing alternately on his fingers. Ian's other hand touches Mickey leaking cock. Expertly stroking as he opens him up. Mickey feels himself give to the pressure, opening up and preparing for Ian's cock to enter his body.
"Come on. Stop with all the damn teasing and just get on me" Mickey pleads with him.
Ian does one more twist of his fingers that leaves Mick groaning, before he removes his hands. Now it's Mickey's turn to watch as Ian stokes himself. Long, languished strokes as he adds more lube, greasing his erection from tip to base as he smirks at a ready Mick. Losing any patience he had left Mickey sits up, pushes Ian down and climbs up over his long body. Positioning himself, he fists Ian's cock and guides it into his welcoming warmth. Slowly, Mickey moves up and down, adjusting to the fullness he feels. So full and hot and reduced to only the simplest of wants Mickey lets out a deep moan as he increases his pace. Ian lifts his hip to meet each of Mickey's thrust, almost painfully slow they set their rhythm. Ian lifts himself up, hands clinging to Mickey as he pulls him down, one hand gets tangled in the dark mop of Mickey's hair as he pulls him down to kiss him.
They move faster now, rougher, meeting with each hard thrusts of their bodies. They match each other's moans, grunts and whimpers as they continue their steady fast motions. Ian jerks his hips and Mickey can feel him twitch inside of him, rubbing at the place inside of him that feels like someone is reaching inside him and caressing every nerve in his body. Ian's hand slides between Mickey's shuddering stomach and his own muscled abdomen to stroke Mickey's erection that's been pressed between them. Mickey's pace picks up, losing its careful rhythm as he comes apart, knees digging sharply into the mattress beneath them. Ian lets out a groaned "fuck" as his hips surge up one last time while he empties himself within Mickey. Mickey cums over Ian's trembling fingers.
He shudders and goes limp on top of him, sealing their shaking bodies together with sweat and his body's release. Ian's arms encircle Mickey's sweating back, holding him close as they both come down, placing soft kisses on the top of his head. A few seconds or minutes or days pass before Mickey hears Ian's low rumbling laugh.
"Mick, I love you, but you gotta get off me before we glue ourselves together with your jizz."
"Give me a damn minute, firecrotch. I'm the one who did all the damn work."
"Fine. But just remember I told you to move when you're bitching about being all sticky."
Mickey continues to lay on Ian, listening to the fast beating of his heart. He lays there long enough to hear as it slows down and his breathing goes back to normal. He finally, although reluctantly, pries himself off Ian. He figures he'll just re-shower in the morning instead of dealing with the sticky mess on him now. With an arm wrapped around Ian and their legs intertwined with each other, Mickey finally closes his eyes to get some sleep.
"Viktor, but with a K, sounds good too." Ian says to an already snoring Mickey.
