Mickey felt the soft, teasing kisses on his upper thigh before he even opened his eyes. He sighed contentedly before blindly reaching down to tangle his fingers in Ian's hair. It wasn't a bad fucking way to wake up, he decided. He opened his eyes into slits and watched through his eyelashes as Ian dragged the tip of his tongue up his thigh, coming deliciously close to his cock before pulling away.
Ian's eyes were on him. "You have the sexiest thighs, you know that? I just wanna bite 'em," he said before doing just that. He nuzzled his head between Mickey's thighs, brushing soft, moist kisses against his skin.
"Forget fuckin' Folgers, man," Mickey murmured, his voice husky from sleep. "This is the best part of wakin' up."
"Jesus," Ian breathed. "You say my jokes are bad."
"Bite me, bitch."
"If you insist," Ian flirted before nipping Mickey's inner thigh again.
Mickey bit his bottom lip and let out a small puff of laughter.
Ian grinned up at him. "Morning."
Mickey grabbed Ian under his arms and tugged him up to him. He let out a huff of air when Ian fell against him. "Morning," he murmured as his eyes searched Ian's face. He always looked so good first thing in the morning; it was ridiculous. His cock twitched against Ian's thigh in appreciation.
"Did I wake you up?" Ian asked with fake innocence as he reached between them and lazily stroked Mickey's dick.
"With your tongue inches from my dick?" Mickey asked, smiling affectionately as their noses bumped. "The fuck do you think?"
Ian smiled and dropped his eyes to Mickey's lips as he continued jerking him. "Sorry."
"Uh-huh, sure you are," Mickey said, his heart pounding in his throat, and his breathing unsteady as Ian stroked him slowly from base to tip.
"So, are you okay?"
"Yeah," Mickey breathed. "I'm good."
"No regrets about last night?"
Mickey swallowed visibly before saying, "No regrets."
Ian smiled at that. "You ready for round two, or are you still sore?"
"Cuttin' right to the fuckin' chase now, huh?" Mickey asked, snorting in amusement.
Ian grinned in response.
"I think I can go for round two," Mickey muttered, his eyes dropping to Ian's mouth once again.
Ian grinned wider and pulled away from him, reaching over him to grab the lube and condoms off the bedside table. He kept his eyes locked on Mickey's as he sat back, stroking himself to full hardness before rolling the condom on.
Mickey watched him, the sight of Ian touching himself enough to make him hard.
Ian gave Mickey a tentative smile as he squirted lube into his palm. He warmed it that time and reached down to ease two slicked fingers into Mickey's hole, feeling that he was still stretched from the night before and wouldn't need much prep.
Mickey let out a groan and spread his legs wider, still trying to get used to it all. It hurt so fucking good.
"I wanna fuck you while you're on your back," Ian said, moving his fingers in and out slowly, stretching him. "That okay? I promise I'll take it easy."
Mickey stared up at him through hooded eyes, never expecting to be the submissive one in a sexual relationship, but he kinda fucking loved it. "Yeah, do whatever you want."
"You don't have to tell me twice."
"Gallagher, shut the fuck up and get on me."
Ian smiled again as he removed his fingers. He propped a pillow under Mickey's ass, angling him just right before positioning himself. He leaned into Mickey and kissed him thoroughly, teasingly biting and nipping at his lips, trying to take his mind off the fact that he was pushing his way inside him.
Mickey gasped and panted into Ian's mouth and dug his fingers into the small of Ian's back as that still unfamiliar pain surged through him.
Ian groaned when he bottomed out. He pulled away from the kiss so he could stare down into Mickey's eyes. He smoothed Mickey's hair back from his forehead.
Mickey stared back as he panted and tried to relax.
"You alright?" Ian whispered as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Mickey's sweaty forehead.
"Think so," Mickey said. "Just tryna get used to havin' a dick up my ass."
Ian kept his lips pressed to Mickey's forehead and smiled against his skin as he began slowly moving in and out of him, rolling his hips, and keeping his thrusts slow and measured.
Mickey slid his arms under Ian's armpits and held him like a vise, his entire body tense and on fire as Ian filled him with every thrust.
Ian dug his face into the crook of Mickey's neck as he made love to him, trying to savor every second.
Mickey was already close, his body trembling. He could feel Ian hitting that spot inside of him, and the friction between their bodies pressed together was enough to stimulate his dick. He'd felt nothing like it before; he never knew sex could be like that.
"So good, you're fuckin' perfect," Ian murmured against Mickey's neck as he continued his even, steady thrusting. He dropped soft kisses against Mickey's damp skin, before licking along his throat and back up to his mouth. Their lips met in a passionate kiss as their emotions overcame them. Ian picked up his pace, still being careful not to hurt him.
Mickey groaned and clung to Ian as they kissed thoroughly as best they could through their panting and gasping. He came first, that time, a moan falling from his mouth as he shuddered. He bit into Ian's shoulder hard without meaning to.
Ian continued thrusting as he pulled back to watch Mickey experience his orgasm. It was enough to send him over the edge. He lost all control and tumbled over with a satisfying gasp. He rode his orgasm out and fell into a sweaty heap beside Mickey, a wide satisfying grin spreading across his sweaty face. "That was fuckin' amazing."
Mickey struggled to catch his breath as he stared blankly up at the ceiling, his emotions running rampant.
Ian propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Mickey's face. "Tell me again why we haven't been doin' that this whole time?" His eyes searched Mickey's profile. His smile faded when he realized Mickey wasn't in a joking mood. "Mick, what's wrong?" he asked, worried that he wanted to take it all back.
Mickey turned his head and locked eyes with Ian. It looked as if he wanted to say something important. After a few beats, he let out a resigned sigh and wiped a hand down his sweaty face. "Nothing's wrong. Just tryna catch my fuckin' breath, is all."
Ian didn't know if he believed him, but he decided not to press for answers. He leaned down and kissed Mickey softly before pulling away. "I need to go take a shower after all that." He got up and paused in the bathroom doorway, peering over his shoulder. "You wanna join me?"
"Nah, man, you go ahead," Mickey said as he sat up, reaching for his smokes. "I'll hop in when you're done."
Once he heard the shower turn on, he relaxed back against the headboard and let out a shaky exhale. The entire time, he'd been afraid that Ian would be the one getting in too deep and making things harder than they had to be. He would never have guessed it would be him that would end up dreading the goodbye.
After they were both showered and dressed, Ian joined Mickey at the table, leaned over his shoulder, and stole a bite of his Pop-Tart.
"Do you fuckin' mind?" Mickey scolded playfully, grabbing his precious breakfast pastry back from Ian and swatting his hand away. "You don't touch a man's Pop-Tarts. Fuck's wrong with you?"
Ian held his hands up in mock surrender with a goofy laugh. His expression then turned serious as he sat down and eyed the money sprawled out in front of them. "So, how much we got?"
"A little less than eight grand," Mickey said with a sigh as he scratched the back of his neck.
"Great, so we still need two thousand," Ian said. "How the fuck are we gonna come up with that kinda cash? We've run out of ideas."
Mickey reclined back in his chair and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I dunno, man, maybe we can sell our fuckin' jizz. Don't you get, like, a hundred bucks a wank for that?"
"Nah, you don't really make that much doin' that," Ian said as he picked Mickey's Pop-Tart up and took another bite, to which Mickey said nothing that time. "We'd have to jerk off about fifty times each to make enough money." On Mickey's confused look, he explained, "Lip and I donated sperm more times than I can count to contribute to the squirrel fund." He shrugged when Mickey raised a brow. "We had to make money for the electric bill somehow."
"Fuck then, I got nothing," Mickey said, leaning back in his chair and slapping the handful of cash onto the table in irritation. "Maybe we can just head back in a few days. I can sell coke or some shit. I'll lay low for a couple of days so my dad doesn't find me before I can get all the money."
"No way," Ian said, shaking his head adamantly. "I don't want you doin' that."
"You're kiddin' me, right?" Mickey asked after a beat. "You know I sell that shit on the regular, don't you? Why do you always gotta turn that shit into a big deal? It's not a big fuckin' deal."
"Yeah, maybe it isn't to you, but that doesn't mean you have to keep doin' it," Ian snapped.
"Christ," Mickey said, running a hand down his face. "This isn't gonna turn into another fuckin' Dr. Phil moment, is it?"
"Sorry I care, Mickey." Ian frowned. "Sorry I don't wanna sit back and watch you do stupid shit and ruin your life."
"Are we seriously back to that?" Mickey asked. "What's the big fuckin' deal? It's not like we're gonna be in each other's lives after this. What the fuck's it to you what I do with my life?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. The look on Ian's face instantly made him want to punch a wall.
"You're right," Ian intoned after a drawn-out pause, his jaw tight. "You're right. Once we're back home, you can do whatever the hell you want to, Mickey. Sell drugs, go to prison, kidnap a few more people while you're fuckin' at it. Why the hell should I care, right? I'm nothin' to you. I'm just a warm mouth, some guy you're bangin' for the next few days."
Mickey watched as Ian stood and moved to walk away. He reached out desperately, grabbing Ian's hand to stop him. He brought Ian's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it softly. He knew it was a lame-ass thing to do, but he couldn't stop himself. He sighed and pressed his forehead to Ian's hand.
"I didn't fuckin' mean it," he said, his words barely audible.
"Sounded like you did."
Mickey sighed, keeping his forehead pressed against the back of Ian's hand.
Ian stared down at him, surprised by the tenderness Mickey was showing him. "Look, just because we're not gonna be together, that doesn't mean I'm not gonna still care. I hate it. I fuckin' hate the thought that I'm not gonna know what you're up to, or what your dad is gonna have you do next."
Mickey said nothing; he just continued holding Ian's hand to his forehead, his eyes still closed tight, and his breathing unsteady.
Ian sat down in the opposite chair and leaned towards him. He cupped Mickey's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "I meant what I said the other night," he murmured. "About lovin' you. Even if I never see you again after all this, I'm always gonna worry about you, Mickey."
Mickey was quiet for a few beats before he opened his eyes and pulled back to look into Ian's. "Why me?" he asked, feeling more raw, vulnerable, and open than he'd ever felt at any other point in his life. "I'm a piece of shit, Ian," he spat. "What the hell is so special about me, huh? Why even fuckin' bother?"
"Because I'm drawn to you," Ian said, smoothing his thumbs over Mickey's cheeks. "And because, even though you act like you're so tough, you're really just a big fuckin' softie on the inside." He smiled a bit at Mickey's scoff and affronted expression. "And you're sexy, Mick. So damn sexy. You like to pretend you hate my jokes. I catch you smiling all the time because of them, even when you think I don't—"
Mickey leaned in and kissed him to shut him up.
"Mickey," Ian whispered when they pulled apart.
"I don't wanna fuckin' talk anymore," Mickey muttered before standing and taking Ian's hand.
Ian accepted his hand and barked out a laugh when Mickey pulled him up suddenly, causing Ian to stumble into him.
Mickey pivoted them both and pushed Ian back on the bed before advancing on him with a playful glint in his eye. "You ready for round three?"
Ian surged up and met Mickey halfway, answering him with a devouring kiss.