Done To Death

A selection of one shots; each an Ian/Mickey cliché

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Mickey Lets Ian Kiss Him

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They had been doing whatever the hell it was they were doing for nearly two years now (including of course the stints in Juvie where what they were getting was regrettably not from each other), when Mickey began to realise Ian had given up that annoying habit of trying to kiss him.

And while it wasn't as if Mickey intended to ever let Ian succeed in this endeavour, he soon found he was missing those vain attempts. There had been something exciting about the way Ian used to lean forward; testing just how close he could get his nose to Mickey's. It had been exhilarating, being wanted that much – knowing that however much Mickey threatened him, Ian would still push his luck.

Mickey had never kissed anyone. He'd never really seen the point - moreover, he hadn't wanted to. It crossed a definite line from just having fun to actually giving a shit. And he wasn't stupid – he knew Ian tried because he really did give a shit. About Mickey. About whatever the fuck they were. Just he had stopped trying, and Mickey wondered if it meant Ian had stopped caring as well.

Which was a good thing. Obviously. Just maybe now Mickey was the one who gave a shit, against his better judgement of course. And while he was hardly a coward, showing Ian how he felt was something he just did not have the courage to do. Especially if his suspicions were correct and Ian had stopped feeling that way.

Mickey had a plan – a Milkovich plan – which meant it was sound, if crooked. He wouldn't make a move, wouldn't say a word, unless Ian did so first. In which case Mickey might concede. Might. If Firecrotch ever got the fuck round to trying it again that is.

So he started thinking up ways to tempt Ian; ways in which Ian might want to try again. Mick even started sucking him off more – he knew he couldn't resist the look of Ian's lips when the redhead had finished with him and he hoped the feeling might be reciprocated the other way round. But Ian just smiled and wiped his come from Mickey's mouth without moving his head any nearer to Mickey's.

So Mickey started smoking more, letting the cigarette hang teasingly from his lips. He passed it back and forth to Ian; tasting the other's saliva against his tongue. He thought Ian might taste him also, might want more, but instead Ian just chattered away seemingly oblivious.

The roof was Mickey's next destination – it was at the top of an abandoned building that the boys had long since commandeered as their own. In the early days Ian had moved an old mattress there but they hadn't used it much, what with them liking it hard and dirty, but now Mickey hoped he could spin it to his advantage. If he could just get Ian to fuck him face to face, a position Mickey liked more than he was ever going to admit to, then just maybe he could get the boy to kiss him.

Just proposing such sex was going to be suspicious – what with Mickey pretending not to give a shit and everything. But the thought of kissing Ian had by now consumed Mickey's whole life, and he would do anything to feel those lips on his.

Trying to act casual, Mickey arrived twenty minutes later than their agreed meeting time and found, amazingly, that Ian was already stretched out on the mattress, halfway through a joint, with his eyes looking wide up into the sky. Mickey flopped down beside him and lazily took the pot from Ian's hands.

"Are you too stoned to fuck me now?"

Ian laughed, "You think you deserve it, arriving this late?!"

"I could make it up to you," Mickey teased, snubbing out the joint and rolling on top of Ian, sitting down squarely on the other boy's hips.

"You gonna ride me, Mick?"

"Like fuck! You think I'm gonna do all the work?" He had already undone Ian's belt by this point and was tugging at the zip. Ian mimicked the action of the other boy until Mickey rolled them over and pulled Ian down flush on top of him. Mickey buckled up at the contact and couldn't get his pants of quick enough.

Ian sobered up quickly, feeling Mickey's breath so close against his face. And when Mick wrapped his legs around him – open and willing – Ian hit a new kind of high. The kind that had him slipping and sliding instead of pounding; touching and teasing instead of bruising. He came, as always, seconds behind Mickey; the final squeeze of Mick's orgasm tipping him over the edge.

He didn't pull away straight after, and for once neither did Mickey – looking up and Ian with his eyes blown wide and black.

And Ian couldn't help it, with Mickey pressed so close beneath him, so he leant down and kissed him. Lips slightly open, gathering Mickey's top lip between his own. Then he panicked, attempting to pull back, but Mickey had Ian's head between his hands and was actually kissing him back – exploring Ian's mouth somewhat hungrily. Ian smiled and Mickey moved enough to break away.

"Tell anyone and I'll cut your fucking tongue out…"

Ian just laughed, leaning down again. And as first kisses go, it was pretty fucking awesome.