It was a chance meeting in fucking Whole Foods. Mickey knew he hated that place for a reason; he just didn't know his husband would end up cowering in the restroom. Ian had stopped mid-sentence, grabbed his hand, and drug him into the restroom. He had never seen Ian react to anything like that, not even Terry. Ian had leaned against the door, making sure it barricaded, but he wouldn't answer Mickey's questions. He wouldn't look him in the eye.
It had taken Mickey twenty minutes to get him to leave the restroom. They had left the groceries in an aisle as Ian practically jogged out of the building. He slammed the door to the truck and locked the doors before looking around. Mickey could see the fine tremor running through his body, and it set him on edge.
"What was that?" Mickey asked as Ian fiddled with the keys. He didn't think Ian would be able to drive. Mickey could see that his hands were shaking, and he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
Ian shook his head, and tears filled his eyes. Mickey shifted in his seat, worried and anxious. He slowly pulled the keys from Ian's hand and shoved them in the pocket of his coat.
"Hey, look at me, Gallagher." Ian shifted, looking at his chest, not meeting his eyes. Mickey softly grabbed his chin, forcing eye contact. "What's going on?"
"Can we go home?" Ian whispered.
"Yeah, but we need to switch seats. You can't drive." Mickey opened his door to walk around the car but stopped to stare as Ian fumbled with his extra long legs to crawl over the center console.
Mickey didn't know what was going on, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Ian had begged for him to come to Whole Foods. They had argued for weeks about it, and he had seen how happy his husband had been. Ian had pranced around with a giant smile on his face until he didn't. Ian had seen something or someone that had sent him into a panic attack, and Mickey didn't know what to do with that information.
Ian was the strongest man he knew, and to get that kind of reaction meant nothing good. The drive home was silent, and Mickey could feel the anxiety rolling off of Ian in waves. Mickey would see his hands shaking and his knees bouncing. Mickey had to fight down the urge to yell at him to stop fidgeting. Scenarios were running through Mickey's mind making him sick to his stomach. He was praying for something silly and unimportant. But in his gut, he knew they would never be the same after Ian spoke up.
He pulled into the parking lot, and Ian practically ran into the condo. When Mickey stepped in, Ian was pacing the length of their living room. Mickey shut and locked the door behind himself, then kicked off his shoes.
"Tell me what's going on," Mickey said, and Ian jerked but did not stop pacing.
Ian ran his hands over his face with a loud sigh. "I was supposed to talk to you about it before we got married, but I thought I was fine. I thought it didn't matter."
Mickey grabbed his arm to stop him from pacing, but Ian flinched. Mickey let his hands drop, and Ian's face fell. He couldn't help his reaction, and Mickey knew that, but he didn't understand where the reaction came from. Ian had never flinched from him before, even when they had gotten into actual fistfights.
"Sit down and just fucking tell me, man," Mickey said.
Ian's shoulder's hunched. "I don't think I can." He whispered.
Mickey grabbed his hands, leading him to the couch. Mickey knew it would be easier for Ian if he was not looking at Mickey. Mickey sat on the couch and had Ian lay his head in his lap, looking away. "Just start at the beginning."
Ian took a ragged breath, and Mickey could feel tears already soaking his jeans. Mickey ran, what he hoped was a comforting hand through Ian's red hair. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's thighs and squeezed. "It was after I left you at the Mexican border."
Mickey's hand froze for a split second, but Mickey recovered quickly. They didn't talk about Mexico; Mickey had essentially forbidden it. He had never said the words. He had not demanded they never speak about it, but he had made it very uncomfortable for Ian to talk about it every time he brought it up. He hadn't wanted to hear how Ian had been living his best life while Mickey was starving and struggling alone in a foreign country.
"After Monica died, I was in a shitty place. Then that meth dealer almost killed Carl, and we had to dig up Monica's body."
"What the fuck? You had to dig up your mom?" It made Mickey sad just thinking about it. Ian was soft, softer than most people realized, especially his family. He knew his husband well, and he knew Ian was probably still hurting from that time.
"Trevor took me to a club. He was the boyfriend I had before Mexico. Obviously, he dumped me because I went with you, but he was just trying to cheer me up. The first time was okay." Mickey could feel Ian shrug. "Not great because I was depressed." He scoffed. "I cried in some fat dude's arms."
Mickey huffed out a small laugh. He couldn't really picture it, but the thought was funny. He hated that he wasn't there, and it was his fault. He knew that now. He was the only one to blame for ending up in prison. He was the one who made the mistakes, but he was too angry to see it at the time.
"The next time, though, everything went to shit. It wasn't Trevor's fault. He had gotten a call saying one of his kids had a spot for the night if they could be there within the hour, so he left. I was an adult, and it wasn't my first time alone in a club. Fuck I was a dancer for over a year. I knew better."
Mickey was having a hard time breathing. He didn't like thinking of Ian alone in some seedy club, especially when whatever had happened there had traumatized him. The muscles in his back and neck were tight, but he kept his wrist and hand soft. He didn't want to make anything harder for Ian.
"I turned my back for a split second. Some guy had bumped into me and grabbed my arm to steady himself, or so I thought. It all gets really blurry after that. They had drugged me. I woke up while they were dragging me into some abandoned house, and even though I was awake, I couldn't fight. I couldn't stop them from, I let them," he sighed. "I couldn't stop them from stripping me and hurting me. They hurt me, Mick, so fucking bad."
White noise filled his ears as he tried to process Ian's words. He was trying to remain calm because Ian was speaking. Ian was telling him one of his darkest secrets. Ian was trusting him with the pain he had held in his body for over three years. I bottom now. That's what he had said. Ian had been ready to let Mickey top him in the backseat of a car in the middle of a desert. Mickey didn't know what had happened since then, but Ian would panic at any inkling that Mickey wanted to switch things up. He hadn't been able to talk to Ian about it as of yet. How do you even bring that up in conversation? Turns out, Mickey didn't need to.
"They held me down. They split me open, and I couldn't stop them. Even when I was able to move, the pain stopped me from fighting." Mickey's hand had stilled in Ian's hair, so he began to lightly scratch at his scalp. Mickey just hoped he was helping. "I was a coward, weak," Ian whispered.
"No," Mickey said, hoping his voice was more confident than he felt. "it's not your fault. You couldn't stop them, but that doesn't make you fucking weak. Ian Gallagher weak or a coward, fuck that shit. You're my husband. You got a fucking Milkovich to settle down, in the fucking west side, by the way. No one else in the world could do that shit, man."
Ian twisted so that he could see Mickey's face. "I saw one of them today." Ian grabbed Mickey's hand, squeezing it tightly. "One of the men that kept me trapped in that building for over twelve hours shops at our Whole Foods. Mick, I can't go back there."
Ian's face was red and blotchy from the crying, but the tears had mostly dried up. Mickey used his free hand to wipe away the stray tears and gave Ian a small reassuring smile. "Come on, baby, you were so excited to be able to shop there. I will not let these fucks ruin it for you. I will always go with you, and next time point them out." He would kill them, all of them. Mickey didn't know how or when, but they were already dead men walking. They had signed their own death sentence when they fucked with Ian Gallagher.
"No!" Ian sat up quickly, turning so he could face Mickey. "No, you can't go back to prison. You can't leave me here."
"Hey, I won't. I'm not going to kill them." He just needed to know who they were. Even if he didn't get the blood on his hands, they would die. He still had connections.
"Then why do I need to point him out?" Ian knew something was up, he knew Mickey was already making a plan, and he knew he wouldn't like it.
Mickey slowly pulled him and pressed a grounding kiss to his lips. Mickey slid one hand to cup the back on Ian's head to deepen the kiss, making Ian moan. Then Ian did something he never did, he crawled into mickey's lap without breaking the kiss. Ian's hands were Mickey's hair gripping tightly so that he could angle Mickey's face the way he wanted to. Mickey let his hands travel down Ian's side to settle on his hips. When Ian ground his ass against Mickey's erection and groaned, Mickey's eyes snapped to his. Ian was looking down at him with hooded eyes.
"Fuck me, Mick," Ian whispered.
Mickey felt a jolt run down his spine. He had just decided to never bring up Ian bottoming again. He had thought Ian would never want it, understandably so.
"Yeah?" Mickey asked in a whisper against the long column of Ian's neck.
Ian pulled on Mickey's hair forcing his head back and his lips away from Ian's skin. Ian rolled his hips, letting Mickey feel his hard-on. "Fuck, yeah." Ian licked Mickey from collar bone to the chin. "Fuck me, Mickey." He whispered in Mickey's ear, then bit the lobe, tugging on it for a moment. Ian started grinding his ass along Mickey's dick. "Come one, baby, make me yours."
Mickey gripped his hips hard and thrust up with a groan. "Right here?"
Ian sat back and shooting him a smirk. "Take me to bed, Mick."
It was the hottest thing Mickey had ever seen or heard, and he would take him to bed. They had lost their clothes as they rushed to the bed. Ian flopped on the bed, and Mickey took a moment to just take in his husband.
"You're fucking beautiful," Mickey said and watched Ian flush all over.
"Come on, get on me," Ian whined.
Mickey kneeled between Ian's spread legs and watched Ian's blush work down his neck and spread across his chest. Mickey pressed Ian into the mattress as he kissed and nipped at Ian's lips. He buried one hand in the firey hair, gently tugging back so he could press kisses down Ian's neck. He paused at the junction of Ian's shoulder and neck to bite down softly, forcing Ian to moan and roll his hips up.
His cock was already hard and leaking. Mickey could feel the precum spreading along his belly as Ian arched with every nip Mickey gave him. Mickey kissed and bit down Ian's chest until he was eye level with Ian's impressive dick. He lightly grasped it, giving it a few tugs, as he watched Ian arch into every touch. Ian watched his every move, so Mickey held eye contact as he took the tip into his mouth and sucked hard. Ian's head jerked back, and he let out a dirty moan. Mickey let Ian's cock drop from his mouth and bounce on Ian's soft belly.
"Watch me, Ian."
"Fuuuck." Ian groaned but looked back down at Mickey as he licked the tip of Ian's dick. Mickey opened his mouth wide, taking in as much as he could in the first bob. Mickey moaned as the tip rubbed against his soft palette. Ian reached out, running his fingers through Mickey's hair, forcing Mickey to let his eyes fall closed and take more of the penis into his mouth. Mickey slowly worked his mouth down until his throat was stretching at the intrusion, and his nose was rubbing against Ian's soft pubes.
Ian grabbed the lube from the bedside table, setting it next to Mickey's hand. Mickey pulled back up, swirling his tongue around the tip as he uncapped the lube and coating his fingers. Mickey ran his slicked-up fingers over Ian's hole but did not press at first. Ian still jolted, and Mickey swallowed him down in one motion, making Ian forget about the wandering fingers. Ian let his eyes fall closed as the first finger breached, and he took a steadying breath. Mickey pulled off of his cock and ran a gentle hand up Ian's chest.
"You're doing so good, baby. Let me take care of you."
Ian let out a soft sigh as he planted his feet on the bed letting his knees fall open. Mickey pressed a kiss to the inside of Ian's thigh as he added the second finger. Mickey sucked one of Ian's balls into his mouth, laving at the skin, and using his free hand, he slowly jerked Ian in sync with his other fingers. Ian gasped as Mickey added the third finger.
"So, good baby. You're taking my fingers so good."
After a few moments, Ian started to roll his hips. His mouth was open, and sweet little moans were falling from his lips. Mickey stilled his hand, letting Ian fuck himself on his fingers. Mickey slightly curled his finger, so they would brush over Ian's prostate. Ian gasped, and his eyes rolled as he rolled his hips down faster.
"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. Take your pleasure, Ian."
Ian fisted his hands in the sheets as sweat started to bead across his chest. Ian whined when Mickey pulled his fingers away, making Mickey laugh.
"Want me to fuck you, baby?"
Ian rolled his hips, making his hard cock bounce on his belly. "Please, Mick." He moaned.
Mickey sat back on his haunches and grabbed the lube covering his cock before grabbing Ian's hip with one hand. He used the other hand to guide his cock. Ian froze as Mickey's dick breached his hole, but Mickey gripped Ian's cock giving it a few swift jerks.
"You're okay, baby, just breath. You can do it."
Mickey started rolling his hips, pushing in a little bit at a time. Mickey brushed Ian's prostate, and Ian let out a loud moan and covered his eyes with his arm. After a few more thrusts, Mickey bottomed out and stilled. He stopped pulling on Ian's cock and started massaging Ian's thighs.
"Let me see your pretty green eyes. Come on, baby, let me see your face."
Ian moved his arm and looked up at Mickey. His eyes were wide, and his pupils were so big you could barely see the green in his eyes. Mickey slowly pulled back and gently pushed back in, making Ian groan.
"That's it, baby. You're taking me so good."
Ian reached up, grabbing Mickey's shoulders, digging his fingers in the soft flesh. "Fuck me. Come on, Mickey, fuck me." Ian whimpered.
Mickey started with long slow thrusts as Ian adjusted to him, but then Ian wrapped his legs around Mickey's back. Mickey picked up the pace, and Ian arched into each thrust with a moan. Mickey gripped both off Ian's hips fucking into him as hard as he could.
"More, please, more," Ian begged.
Mickey shifted one of Ian's legs on his shoulder, spreading Ian wide. Ian screamed, and for a moment, Mickey thought he had hurt him, then Ian raked his nails along Mickey's back. Mickey shifted, holding both of Ian's legs wide, and started a bruising pace, rocking the bed with each thrust.
"Yeah, baby, do you like that? You like being spread wide so you can take my cock?"
Ian screamed as each thrust bottomed out with a force that slammed the headboard against the wall. "Yes, yes," Ian chanted as Mickey picked up the pace.
"Touch yourself, Ian. Make yourself cum, baby." Sweat was dripping down Mickey's face as he chased his own orgasm. "Come on my cock." Ian started roughly pulling at his own dick. "That's it, baby. Splatter yourself in your own cum." Ian cried out as his orgasm began to crash over him. "Fuck yes, I'm going to fill you up, baby. I'm going to cum so deep in your tight ass, baby." Ian's back arched, and Mickey bit down on his thigh as Mickey came.
Mickey pressed a gentle kiss to the bite mark he left on Ian's thigh as he slowly pulled out. "You were so good for me, baby," Mickey whispered before he leaned down softly, kissing Ian.
Mickey grabbed a clean cum rag from the bedside table and cleaned them both up before laying down next to his husband. Usually, he was the little spoon, but this time he pulled Ian into his arms. Ian pressed his face into Mickey's neck as he tried to catch his breath.
"Love you, Mick."
Mickey felt a smile spread across his face. "Love you too, fire crotch." Mickey pressed a kiss to Ian's sweaty brow. "Sleep, now."