Part 2!

It had been two months since Mickey's first massage. He'd been back twice; Ian was always his massage therapist. He thought about playing it cool when Ian gave him his number, going with the 'three-day rule' until he would text him but Mickey decided that that was bullshit and texted him that night. Ever since that first day, things had been going well for the pair, Mickey had no clue what they were to each other but he had someone to chill with and bang, so he wasn't complaining.

Currently, Mickey was standing in the treatment room at Ian's work, putting on his shirt, doing up the buttons as Ian wiped down the massage table.

"So, this was the last of your paid sessions," Ian stated, tossing the antibacterial wipe in the bin. "Should I book you in again?"

"I can think of something better we can do together," Mickey smirked, walking over and wrapping his arms around the other man suggestively, "come over tonight?" Mickey asked, "that UFC match is on."

"I don't finish work until 7 but I'll come by after, pick up some food on the way."

"Bring beer too," Mickey told, quickly pecking Ian's lips and leaving the room. The whole kissing thing was foreign to him but he knew Ian liked it when he did, plus he enjoyed the smile he would see on his face.

It was just after 7:30 pm when Mickey heard a knock on his door. He went to answer it and NO, he didn't check his hair in the mirror before he opened the door. Ian unloaded the six-pack of beer and the foam containers into the brunette's hands before he made his way inside the apartment. Mickey quickly joined him on the couch and they started on their food.

"Beer?" Mickey offered, uncapping the bottle and holding it to the other man.

"Thanks," Ian said with a nod, wincing as he grasped it with his hand.

Mickey watched the other man periodically. Every so often he would hiss or make a face when he moved, struggling to use his utensils to eat their Indian cuisine. As Ian struggled to pull apart some naan bread, he rolled his shoulder, his face contorted once again.

"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Carrying on more than the guys on tv," Mickey told, nodding to the UFC match.

"Sorry," Ian said apologetically, "it's my shoulder. I was giving a client an adjustment today and I slipped. Then when I was picking up the food some asshole knocked me into the wall and it's been sore ever since."

"Do you want some... pain meds or something?" Mickey asked, the first thing coming to mind. "Like Aspirin, not like Oxcy or some shit, you'd have to go to my brother Iggy for that."

"No, no to both," Ian laughed, rolling his shoulder.

"I think I have some Deep Heat gel from when I first fucked up my hip. It didn't do me a whole lot of good but you probably know how to use it better than I do."

"Yeah, that will work or moisturizer or massage oil,"

"Yeah, there is some in my bedside table... fuck off," Mickey glared in embarrassment when he saw Ian smirking at him. Ian followed him into the bedroom, taking off his shirt as Mickey grabbed an assortment of oils and moisturizers out of the side table. The redhead looked through them and saw a tube of Voltaren gel and settled on that.

"How many different creams and shit did you buy?" Ian laughed, uncapping the tube and applied it to the top of his shoulder.

"All I know was my hip fucking hurt and they calmed to fix it."

"So, you bought the whole pharmacy?" Ian chuckled, wincing slightly when he moved his shoulder wrong. Ian tried to position his hand lower on his shoulder but was having trouble with the angle.

"Look," Mickey said, sitting next to him, "I might not be a masseuse like you or whatever but I could give you a massage?"

"Massage therapist," Ian corrected, sounding slightly offended.

"The fucks the difference?"

"Masseuse give happy endings."

"How is that, not what you are?"

Currently, Ian was lying face down on Mickey's bed, eyes closed as the other man sat on his hips, slowly massaging his shoulder. Sure, he didn't have the best technique but Ian rarely got a massage, if ever. Mickey was tentative at first, scared he would hurt him, which was sweet but he had guided him through it, giving him pointers and tips as he went but he enjoyed the feeling of the other man's hands on him more than anything.

"The fuck's baby oil made out of anyway?" Mickey asked as he squeezed some more oil into his hand, warmed it up, and worked it down Ian's back.

"Babies, probably," Ian laughed, feeling the other man's hands slide lower on his hip.

"Think you're funny, don't you?"

"I know I'm funny," Ian told, smirking against the pillow when he felt Mickey's fingers sliding under his boxer briefs.

"You have a lot of tension here," Mickey informed flirtatiously, his thumbs working over Ian's ass.

"Is that right?" Ian chuckled, lifting his hips so Mickey could remove them completely.

"Oh yeah," Mickey said matter of factly, trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

"What else?" Ian asked, Mickey's hands moving lower until they reached his cock.

"See here," Mickey said, stroking it, "I can feel some stiffness."

"Is this all part of the service?" Ian asked coquettishly, smirking over his shoulder at the over man.

"Hey, I'm just going over my past massage experiences, what you exposed me to."

"Fuck off," Ian laughed.

Ian felt one of Mickey's hands disappear momentarily before the unmistakable sound of the massage oil bottle opening, the oil suddenly dripping across his ass, slowly sliding down before slipping into his hole. He shifted his legs apart, enjoying the sensation of the warm oil running from his hole to his balls. Mickey's hands closed over his cheeks, squeezing and kneading firmly, purposely avoiding his cock.

Mickey pressed the tips of his thumbs against Ian's hole, tightly circling it, his toes curling on their own accord as his body tingled at the pleasant sensation. Ian shifted his hips back slightly, giving Mickey more access to continue with his torture.

With more oil, Mickey dips his finger in excruciatingly slow before it disappears, Ian takes a deep breath and tries to control himself. Mickey plunges his finger back inside the other man's hole watching as the man's back arches into it, gasping lightly. One finger, simply thrusting in and out as he prods into Ian's tight ass. With his other hand, Mickey lazily strokes Ian's hard, throbbing cock, painfully slow.

Ian's breathing becomes audible in the bedroom, erratic and harsh as he tries to restrict himself from making too much noise and giving Mickey too much satisfaction in his work. With another finger, then a third, Mickey's pace quickens, thrusting harder while looking for any kind of ridge of muscle to indicate where exactly he should be rubbing and Ian buried his face further into his pillow, gripping the bedsheet as the brunette scissors his fingers.

Mickey speeds up his hand on Ian's cock, twisting his hand slightly as he pumps his hard length, Ian's breath hitching intermittently between gasps. With Mickey stretching his hole, it happens like a spark, Ian feels Mickey brush over something swollen and he moans, a shudder rippling through his entire body. Mickey presses his fingers deeper this time until he finds it again but this time his reaction is more subdued but he carries on, his dexterous fingers pressing around the ridge, massaging the muscles and over it.

Mickey's other hand delivers short quick deliberate strokes, then without warning, Ian's cumming. His hips stuttering, jutting as Mickey continued milking him through his orgasm, only stopping when he was completely and utterly spent.

Ian falls on the bed, laying on his back, basking in his afterglow, smiling stupidly at the other man. He's exhausted but he's too blissed out to care, Mickey snickers at the smile on the other man's face and lays down next to him, smirking at the disgusted look he gets when he wipes his soiled hand on the redhead's stomach.

"So," Mickey starts, resting his head on bended elbow looking over the other man, "how's your shoulder."

"Well I never realized my shoulder was in my ass," Ian chuckled.

"You carry a lot of tension down there," Mickey smiled, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Ian's lips, "I just want to make you comfortable; I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm so glad you're concerned about me," Ian giggled kissing him back. Ian felt Mickey grinding against his hip, so he rolled them over until he was on top and caged the other man with his arms. "I think I feel some stiffness in your shoulder too."

"Is that right?"

"Uh-huh."

As Ian slid down Mickey's torso, worked on his belt buckle, Mickey smirked to himself. He could think of a few more areas that needed to be massaged too.

So hopefully you enjoyed this! This was really hard to write for some reason, please let me know you thoughts!