When Mickey thought about it, there were so many valid reasons why he should really fucking hate Kiera but he just couldn't bring himself to. It wasn't even because he felt like he should or owed it to her. He couldn't. It was as simple as that. However, as he sat on the porch outside smoking his third cigarette in a row, he struggled to think of a single reason why he even bothered with her.
The four of them were a little high and a little drunk, Lip nibbling on the pizza crusts that Kiera didn't eat. They were watching Scream and mocking it for how genuinely unscary it was when Kiera spoke. She was sat on Lip's lap sideways with her legs on Mickey's despite his annoyance which he gladly verbalized. "Oh. Mandy's staying at Louis' for the whole weekend," she stated and all three guys looked at her, expecting her to elaborate. She didn't.
"So?" Mickey asked, speaking on behalf of the rest of them, even though he had an inkling about where she was going with this. He hoped he was wrong.
Dragging her eyes away from the screen, she looked at him. "So, Ian can stay over and I won't take 'no' for an answer." She gave Mickey a weird look that he couldn't quite make sense of.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could Ian tense up a bit and look at him. They'd only ever spent single nights together and that didn't happen very often and they'd only spent one night together since Mickey's release from juvie. Mickey seriously wanted to punch Kiera because this wasn't the first time, and he definitely didn't think it would be last time, she'd done this: put him in a situation where if he said no or reacted badly, he'd look like an even bigger dickhead than usual. The bitch.
"Uh, well if that's okay with you," Ian said, but Mickey had his concentration so firmly set on the tv that he didn't realise he was being spoken to. "Mickey?" He twisted his head round and looked at Ian, raising his eyebrows, silently asking 'what?'. Ian smirked at him. "I said if that's okay with you?"
Mickey shrugged and faced the tv again, neither missing or ignoring the way Kiera dug her heel into his thigh. "Oh. Sure, whatever," he mumbled quietly. Fuck, this is awkward, he thought, even the air feels fucking awkward. Abruptly, he stood up, making his head spin. "Anyone want another beer?" he asked, then immediately regretted it because he never fucking offered to get shit for other people and judging by the others' confused reactions, they were all too aware of that fact.
Lip eventually spoke. "I think we're all good."
And with that Mickey began charging into the kitchen anyway because he couldn't take the way Ian and Kiera were fucking looking at him for two completely different reasons. When he got there he leaned forward against the counter, his head in his hands, breathing heavily. Mickey didn't know why he was freaking out, but he was.
"I don't have to stay if you don't want me to."
Mickey spun round and Ian was stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. "Whatever man," he said, faking nonchalance. Raising his eyebrows questioningly, Ian walked closer to him so he was right up close. "Seriously, I really don't give a shit." Ian scoffed at that and raised his eyebrows again. "Keep doin' that with your eyebrows and I'll shave the fuckers off," Mickey warned with a smirk, shoving his own hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.
As Ian hunched his shoulders, he took a step closer to Mickey so that their thighs were touching then made for his neck. "So you won't... be mad... if I go home... and get my things?" he asked between kisses.
Involuntarily, Mickey shifted his hips a little. "Whatever," he ground out, his voice croaky, before trying to get to the fridge which Ian made impossible by standing with his back against it. Mickey rolled his eyes. "Move."
Ian smirked that fucking smirk. "I will when you say you won't be mad."
Mickey hooked two fingers over the waistband of Ian's jeans and jerked him towards him. He ducked his head and licked line up his neck. "Move," he snarled into his ear then pushed him to the side. So Ian left laughing to himself and told Mickey that he was going to go and a minute later he and Lip left as Mickey made his way out back.
He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the sky. He was staring into space - quite literally - when Kiera sat down beside him and helped herself to one of his cigarettes. She lit up, took a drag, then blew the smoke into his face. "You're sulking," she stated. "Why?" She put her hair, that was now halfway down her back, to one side over her shoulder so that it stuck out against her white dress, and stared at him.
Mickey scoffed and looked at her. "I don't need you you playing fuckin' Cupid, alright?" he snapped, then took a drag. "And who even said I want him to stay," he said as he blew out smoke then rubbed at his bottom lip.
Gently, she cupped his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. "Your face did," she whispered, "and I knew you weren't going to ask him, so I did." She stood up and put a hand on his tense shoulder. "You're welcome." She left him then.
Mickey hated that she was right; he hated that she knew him so well; he hated a lot of things, but he didn't hate her. That was another thing he hated. After finishing his cigarette he stood up and stretched, shivering a little because it was late, he was still topless and despite it being summer, the air was cool. He walked into the kitchen and ruffled Kiera's hair as she ate a bowl of Cap'n Crunch. It surprised him that she was so skinny because she ate like she was pregnant with fucking triplets. She slapped his ass as he walked by and he cursed at her then walked into his room. "Jesus, Ian!" he shouted out. Ian was lying topless on his bed on his back, his legs bent up and spread open. He had that fucking idiot grin on his face that made Mickey want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. "Kiera let you in?" he asked, closing the door then standing at the foot of the bed.
Ian nodded then licked his lips. "Come here," he said, and Mickey smirked at the way his voice dropped.
He clambered onto the bed then knelt inbetween Ian's knees, thoroughly enjoying the view and he was about to lay on top of him when Ian grabbed him by the waist and pulled him down. At first Mickey just looked at him with the sound of his heart thumping in his chest the only thing he could hear and Ian's lust-filled eyes the only thing he could see and when he thought about it, sometimes they were all he wanted to see. Yeah, Gallagher had a fucking great body but it was his eyes that really did Mickey in, they were what made him think he probably liked the guy a little more than he wanted to.
Ian took hold of his face and kissed him hard, sticking his tongue in his mouth before Mickey could even think about what was happening. He soon snapped back to reality and kissed back, sucking on Ian's bottom lip then biting down on it. Fumbling with Ian's zipper, he moaned into his mouth and Ian did the same when he shoved his hands into the guy's boxers and gradually started to jerk him off slowly. He rested his forehead on his and looked down at him smiling at the way Ian's mouth was wide open like he was screaming except the only noise that came out of it were these short pants that had Mickey hard in seconds. He took his hand out and without warning was flipped onto his back and his sweatpants and boxers were being dragged off of him.
Mickey knew what Ian was going to do and covered his eyes with his arm like he always did because at least then Ian could only see half of the ridiculous face he pulled.
His breath caught in his throat when Ian began sucking lightly on the tip of his dick and he made the mistake of looking down at him at the same time as Ian took his whole length into his mouth then began moving his head up and down, whilst keeping eye contact. Mickey thought he was going to completely unravel; this was intense, too intense, yet he couldn't look away even though he was pulling a face that must have looked fucking awful. But fuck it, with the way Ian's hot mouth felt around him, he couldn't care.
Ian suddenly stopped and stuck a finger in his mouth as he put a hand under Mickey's back, lifting him slightly. "Fuck," Mickey sighed out as Ian slowly pushed his finger inside of him then starting going down on him again. His hips jerked forward as Ian hit his g-spot and he bit down on his lip so that he didn't scream out. Tugging at Ian's hair, he spoke. "Get up here," he growled and Ian stopped what he was doing, took out a condom from his jeans' pocket then stripped. He fell into Mickey's arm and their mouths met for quick hard kiss before Mickey pushed him up so he could get up onto his knees because Ian had already seen enough of his sex face.
As Mickey had his ass in the air and his face in his pillow he was hit with a wave of nostalgia that made something stir deep inside of him, something he thought he'd buried deep enough for it never to show up again. The feeling of Ian slowly pushing inside of him banished those thoughts and he didn't think he had the capability to think of anything remotely coherent.
"Fuck," Ian gasped, just like he always did and Mickey hoped always would.
His hips were gripped tight once Ian began to move out again then thrust back inside and yeah, it was super fucking gay, but Mickey help but think how he always felt so content with Ian in him. It wasn't even about being fucked, it wasn't anything sexual; it made him feel whole and right, like he didn't need to worry or fret about anything because Ian was there and he wanted him. He was wanted.
Ian was moaning loud, so loud that music from Kiera's room blasted through the house to drown ii out. Mickey wished she hadn't done that because he loved hearing Ian; he loved hearing Ian pant and grunt and moan his name.
Their pace quickened and Mickey gripped the handful of pillow he had so hard that his tattooed knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms. He began meeting Ian's hard thrusts, pushing back so Ian got even deeper into him. His grunts may have been muffled, but he was so overcome with pleasure that they were loud enough to be heard. He only knew that because he could tell Ian was smiling when he moaned out "fuck Mickey."
One of Ian's hands was on his neck now and the other gripped harder still at his hips, so hard that it would leave marks but Mickey didn't care, just like he didn't care that he was getting louder and his walls were crumbling down around him, succumbing to the desire to just let go because Ian was rolling his hips in that way that he couldn't possibly describe.
He got up so that he was on his hands and knees, his head dipped and his back arched and the movement caused them both to choke out a grunt. And Mickey was so close - he could feel his orgasm bubbling beneath his skin and when Ian slammed into him he was gone. "Fuck, Ian!" he cried out as he came, panting hard and fast. A few more thrusts and Ian was crying out his name and pushing his hand through his hair.
They both collapsed down onto the bed once Ian pulled out. Mickey watched Ian's head rapidly move up and down with his chest. He watched Ian's hand slowly rub his chest above his heart like he was trying to calm it down. Funnily enough, it had the opposite effect.
Ian looked up at him through his lashes then shifted slightly so the could kiss and it wasn't like the sex they had just had. It was small and soft and didn't last for more than a few seconds.
Ten minutes later and they were at it again. Except they weren't really. Mickey's legs were wrapped around the bottom of Ian's back, his arms loosely round his neck and he had Ian's under him. Sure, they'd had sex like this tons of times before, yet it was so different. Mickey didn't have his face buried in Ian's neck nor were his hands scratching at his back. They were joined at the forehead and the mouth, moaning as they kissed, swallowing the sounds to keep them for themselves. And when they weren't kissing they panted; their breath entwining in the short space between them.
Ian wasn't pounding into him, it was slow and steady and it was making Mickey feel. He felt things he never knew existed and it was only when they were done, coming down from it, that he realised he hadn't one closed his eyes.
Mickey wasn't the first to fall asleep like usual. He lifted Ian's arm and put it around his shoulders then rested his chin on the guy's chest and watched him sleep. He watched him sleep until the birds outside woke up and the sun began to rise.