Chapter 11
At first, Mickey watched helplessly from the doorway as Ian retched endlessly into the toilet. He didn't know what to do, or how to help him after he'd plunged in a steep dive from blissfully happy to completely panic-stricken in the same night. He couldn't even imagine how Ian felt. Not even when he had the evidence right in front of him.
Knowing he could just as well be rejected, pushed away, Mickey finally stepped into the bathroom and dropped to his knees next to Ian, putting a comforting hand on the small of his back and rubbing circles there, wishing there was something he could do. He wished he could have evened the score against the utter asshole who had destroyed their perfect evening, but the guy had just shoved him out of the way, and left.
"It's okay," he repeated, for probably the millionth time since they had left the bar. "It's okay, Ian. Just let it all out."
Ian sobbed painfully, his body trembling incessantly against the palm of Mickey's hand, continuing to retch long after there was nothing inside him. Mickey was getting more and more worried with every passing second, wondering if he should maybe ask someone for help. But who was there to ask?
At long last, Ian heaved a shuddering breath and held himself against the toilet, still trembling uncontrollably. He wobbled, clearly exhausted, but Mickey caught him and brought him to rest against his chest, hoping it wouldn't freak him out even more.
Ian tensed stiffly for a moment, half-ready to jump out of Mickey's arms, but too tired to fight his craving to be held, so he simply sagged against him. His head dropped onto Mickey's shoulder and he closed his eyes, his breathing slowing and his rigidity easing.
Mickey allowed him to unknot for a few minutes, then pushed his hair off his clammy forehead and whispered. "Let me help you back into my room. You'll be more comfortable if you get into bed."
Ian nodded weakly and let Mickey help him to the sink so he could rinse his mouth. Ian brushed his teeth three times, feverishly, as if he wanted to get rid of something vile-tasting. Mickey didn't question it; he simply stood beside him in support and waited patiently.
Mickey frowned in concern at Ian's dull grey eyes, as he carefully tucked him in bed as if he was a child. He was unable to resist the impulse to brush his hair off his forehead again, in a soft gesture of affection.
"How are you feeling now?" He asked, looking for any hint of how to help him. "Is there anything at all I can do for you?"
Ian's gaze suddenly turned tempestuous, grey turning to blue, turning to green, turning back to grey. It was mesmerizing and Mickey couldn't look away. Finally, Ian's hand hesitantly reached for his, fingers closing loosely over his.
"I… I want to explain," Ian muttered in a low, broken voice.
"You don't owe me any explanations," Mickey assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"But I want to," Ian insisted, almost pleadingly. "I need someone to understand."
"Then I'll listen," Mickey squeezed his hand.
Ian closed his eyes, remaining quiet and unmoving for so long, that Mickey thought for a moment that he'd fallen asleep. But then he opened them, and they were full of shame and sadness.
"A few months before I graduated high school, my dad died," Ian began, in a shaky voice. Mickey squeezed his hand reassuringly, but said nothing. He didn't want Ian to know he knew both of his parents had passed away. "He was all I had in the world. I… I had just turned eighteen, and I was left on my own. I didn't have any other family – my mom died when I was eight, and there wasn't anyone else. I was always bullied at school – I guess it's to be expected when you're the only out kid and you're proud of who you are."
He paused. Mickey had so much to say, but didn't want to interrupt or do something that would push Ian away or make this even harder. He gave him all the time he needed.
"I was so devastated; I was barely getting through each day, and really just didn't care about anything. The guy at the bar… that's Dave Kash. He was the one who bullied me the worst. He just wouldn't leave me alone. He realized I was at my weakest point, so one day he pushed me into the locker room. He… uhm…" Ian stopped and fixed his eyes on the ceiling, as if he couldn't look at Mickey and say this. "He forced me to blow him."
Mickey gasped and felt a rush of bile going up his throat. "Ian…"
"A guy from the football team walked in on us, so Kash told him I had offered to do it for money. He threw twenty bucks at me and left. Then… then the other guy gave me money, too, and…" Ian's voice broke, shame painting his cheeks red. "They told everyone in school, so after that, all the guys would wave a twenty in my face whenever they wanted to get off. I… I didn't want to do it. I hated doing it, but… they stopped bullying me." He finally raised his eyes to Mickey's, silently begging him to understand, to not judge him. "I knew I wouldn't survive the last months of school unless… I just did it. I thought it would end once I graduated, and I could make a new start, but… God, I was so stupid." He laughed bitterly and a few tears trickled down his cheeks. He wiped them away quickly. "I didn't have any back up, so every time I was tight for money in college, I had to do it again. Eventually I realized there was no point in fighting it anymore, because that was the only thing I was good at. I could only let guys do that to me…"
"Ian, don't…" Mickey tried to stop him, unable to stay silent for another second. He could see the self-hatred in Ian's gaze. "You didn't…"
"I'm a whore," Ian spit the words. "I'm a whore, I'm a whore, I'm a whore…"
"Stop it!" Mickey exclaimed, disturbed when Ian covered his face with his hands, repeating the words over and over again. He grabbed his hands and pulled them away, leaning in close to look him in the eyes.
"That's what I am, that's the only reason I'm here!" Ian replied, anger seething through his veins.
"No," Mickey cut him off. "You're here because I'm an idiot, but I want you to stay because you're the most wonderful person I've ever met."
"Bullshit," Ian retorted disdainfully, and Mickey realized he wouldn't listen to him. He was too far gone, half-hysterical again. "I'm nothing. I'm just this thing everyone uses to get themselves off. They just take, take, and take and now there's nothing left for them to take. I'm empty and tired and I want to die. No one cares about me…"
"I care about you," Mickey interrupted him doggedly. It hurt; it hurt to listen to Ian, knowing he had given up. It hurt to know that he thought what he was saying was true. Mickey knew he meant it, when he said he really just wanted to die, after he had personally witnessed Ian begging to join his parents. "Ian, I'm sorry that I'm no better than any of those guys, because I've used you, too. I've paid you to come here and pretend to be my boyfriend and you'll never know how much I hate myself for that. But now that I've gotten to know you better, I can see that you're much more than what people made of you, Ian. I can see all the wonderful things about you that you don't even remember…"
Ian's eyes were bright with tears as he stared up at him disbelievingly. He looked like a child who had wandered away from his parents, lost in a crowded place, not knowing what to do. "Mickey…"
Mickey couldn't take it anymore. "I want to hold you. Please, can I hold you?"
Ian's lower lip trembled as he swallowed a sob and then very slowly, he nodded. Mickey immediately knelt on the bed, opening his arms in an invitation. Ian melted into them, against his chest, solid and real, yet so fragile. Mickey wasn't sure what more he could do or say, as he tightened his arms around him. Ian had always seemed emotionally damaged, but never like this, not like he couldn't be fixed.
Sheltered in his embrace, Ian continued to talk, now that the floodgates were opened. He told him everything, all those nights of feeling completely desperate, forced to survive by letting strangers do to him whatever they wanted. He told him about being unable to leave Ohio because his parents were buried there and, dead or not, they were all he had. He told Mickey how he had never known how to quit, how he had been trapped into this destructive spiral, how he had sometimes starved when he couldn't force himself to go out there and find a new client. He told him about Kash haunting him in nightmares every night, and how it had felt like one had come to life and he couldn't escape when he saw him tonight.
When he finished, he was clinging to Mickey with tight fists, a wet spot on his shirt from the tears that had spilled down Ian's cheeks. Mickey tried soothing him, as he talked, but even if he ran his fingers through his chestnut hair or rubbed gentle circles down his back, nothing comforted him. All Mickey cared about was helping Ian find some peace, no matter what it took.
Ian sniffed and, when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse after crying for so long. "When I was younger, I used to dream of finding someone I would fall in love with. I believed in those romantic fairy tales, in the idea of soul mates and happily-ever-afters. I was impatient to find the one man who would make me the happiest person on earth, my prince charming." He stopped and swallowed, his head shaking from side to side. "I was afraid of sex back then. I didn't know if I would even be able to do that with someone, to expose myself like that. I thought it was possible if I met the right guy and he loved me enough to look past all my flaws." He wiped the last of his tears away and sighed. "I think if that version of me could see me now, he wouldn't recognize me. I… I don't think my dad would recognize me," he added, his pained voice wavering in defeat. "I thought I was over-reacting, being so scared of something every other teenager looks forward to. But I just… I just didn't know how truly horrible it really was. I… I hate it, Mickey. I hate sex, I hate when people touch me, I hate letting them get so close to me."
Mickey cupped Ian's damp cheek gently, rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone in a soothing manner. "You haven't been able to enjoy it with someone who cared about you and who you cared about. You had to do it with people you didn't know or people who forced you into it. But don't let those dreams you had when you were just a boy get tainted, Ian. Love and sex can be wonderful, when you share them with someone who's worth it. There's nothing like trusting someone enough to let yourself be that vulnerable with them and seeing them treasure that. It's about a lot more than getting off, it's about sharing, about giving pleasure and receiving it back and having it mean something." He kissed the top of his head. "Those men you were with… they weren't sharing anything with you. They just took what they wanted. But there's so much more, and it shouldn't have to hurt. You deserve to be loved, and to be made love to, and make love to someone."
Ian had stopped breathing at some point as he listened to Mickey, who only noticed when he paused. He hoped he hadn't said anything that would upset Ian any further. He was just trying to help…
"Ian, I'm…" He began, concerned.
"Show me," Ian cut him off abruptly. His fists tightened fiercely into Mickey's shirt.
Mickey blinked, not sure what was going on. "What?"
"Show me," Ian repeated, pulling away from him and looking him in the eyes. "Show me, Mickey."
Mickey gaped for a moment as he understood what Ian was asking him. "Ian… I can't… tonight was so… and you're not…"
Ian immediately recoiled, scooting away from Mickey. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down, embarrassed. "Oh. You don't want me. I thought… I'm sorry."
"Ian, no," Mickey said softly, shifting towards him, reaching for his hand. He pressed it against his chest, cradled it there lovingly. "Of course I want you, god, so much. I'm just… not sure you want to do this for the right reasons."
"For the first time in too many years, there's a man in my life who I'm not scared of, who I care about, who I feel safe with…" Ian mumbled, avoiding Mickey's searching gaze. "You're… you're very special, Mickey. I don't think there will ever be a man as special as you in my life again."
Mickey's heart thumped wildly, aware of how fragile Ian was right now. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt you. I don't want to be anything even remotely like any of those guys."
"You could never be like them," Ian looked at him, timidly. "You talk about making love and I've only been fucked my entire life. You tell me I'm beautiful, and they only ever told me I was a good slut. How could you possibly be at all like them?"
Mickey swallowed doubtfully. God, he wanted Ian. He really did. He was falling in love with him, with all of him. He wanted to cherish him, to adore and worship every single inch of him, to teach him how to enjoy the touch of a man and forget about the pain and loneliness he had suffered. He wanted to see him arching in pleasure, instead of just being the mean's to other's pleasure without getting anything in return but a crumpled wad of cash. He wanted to love him, to whisper the words into his ears, to trace the letters on his skin and kiss him until they were both breathless.
He looked at Ian hesitantly. He found Ian's wide, trusting eyes fixed on him, waiting, open and ready. Ian wanted this. He could see that.
Mickey let out a shaky breath, eyes falling to Ian's lips for a moment, and then back up again. He'd never felt so nervous as when he finally whispered, "okay."
The anticipation in the air hung around them thickly. Mickey balanced himself on his hands, hovering over Ian, who was looking up at him with wide, unquestioning eyes. Mickey could see that though Ian had asked for this, he was nervous. He wanted Ian to be at ease around him, to forget about everything and just enjoy.
Ian swallowed visibly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "S-should I get on my knees for you?"
Mickey felt yet another pang of pain at that, but he managed to hide it. "No. Stay where you are, if you're comfortable."
Ian shifted a bit, clearly out of his element, and nodded jerkily. "I'm fine."
"If I do anything that you don't like or you don't want, I want you to tell me at once and I'll stop," Mickey murmured lips only inches away from Ian's. He could feel the quiet ghosts of breath Ian was emitting against his mouth. "Don't be afraid to speak up, because this isn't going to work unless we're both honest about what we feel. Whatever you need to say, say it. Okay?"
Ian swallowed again. "Okay."
Mickey moved in, gently claiming Ian's lips in a kiss. It was a gentle closed mouthed kiss at first, a soft slide of lips against lips. Mickey dropped tiny little kisses on the corner of Ian's mouth, gradually making his way to the other corner. He felt Ian smiling against him, slowly relaxing under his ministrations. Mickey kept his eyes opened, fixed on Ian's face, vigilant for any signs of discomfort. But Ian's eyes were closed and his face wasn't strained in stress and panic like it had been earlier.
Mickey made sure to keep his kisses light and his lower body away from Ian's for a while, until the man beneath him was loose and pliant, with no vestige of worry darkening his face. Only then did Mickey dare to do more.
He parted his lips slightly and started mouthing gently at Ian's bottom lip before slowly trailing the seam of Ian's lips with the tip of his tongue, willing them to open for him. Ian gasped as a jolt of unexpected pleasure flooded him, his breath faster. Mickey slid his tongue into his mouth, just enough to tease, before retreating. When there was no sign that Ian wasn't okay with that, he did it again, this time licking inside for a moment before pulling away again. Ian groaned in frustration, and Mickey smiled before diving in for another kiss, this time kissing Ian more confidently, now sure that he wouldn't overwhelm him.
Cupping his face delicately, Mickey tilted Ian's head up slightly to get better access, kissing him even deeper and loving the quiet little noises escaping through Ian's parted lips to die in Mickey's mouth. Ian moved his hands involuntarily, fisting into Mickey's shirt to pull him a bit closer.
Mickey kissed down his jaw, giving him the chance to breathe for a bit. "Still doing okay?" He asked, wanting to be sure he wasn't going too fast.
"Mickey…" Ian muttered helplessly, throwing his head back. Mickey's lips moved down to his neck, mouthing there gently. "Oh god."
"I love kissing you," Mickey whispered, trailing sweet kisses to Ian's pulse point. Once there, he sucked gently, just enough to redden the skin, but not hard enough to mark it.
Ian let out a little high-pitched noise that travelled all the way down to Mickey's cock.
"Can I take off your shirt?" Mickey asked, lapping softly behind Ian's ear with the tip of his tongue, before placing a kiss there.
Ian nodded, hands immediately going to the buttons. "Yes, yes."
"Hey, let me," Mickey swatted his hands away with a smile, and deliberately and slowly worked the buttons open himself. He dropped a kiss at every new patch of skin he revealed, listening as Ian's breath hitched and caught, as he moved lower.
Once Ian's shirt was rumpled on the floor, Mickey took a couple of minutes to admire him. He skimmed past the sharp outlines of his ribs and hip bones, the little scars here and there, to focus on the paleness of his skin, his pink hardened nipples and the smooth muscles that defined his body, making his arms look strong despite how slim they were.
Ian squirmed under his attention. He bit his bottom lip. "I… is there something wrong?"
"No, not at all," Mickey smiled down at him, reassuringly. He didn't let himself show how stricken he was at how thin and underfed Ian was. That was something they could easily remedy later, together. But right now, Mickey needed to show him how beautiful he was. He needed to make him feel treasured.
He lowered his mouth and started tracing kisses along Ian's collarbone, making him emit quick gasps of breath. Ian wriggled under his lips, too immersed in sensation to worry about anything right now. His fingers tangled into the sheets under them, desperate to hold onto something, until he couldn't help himself and let one rest on the back of Mickey's head, fingers burying instead into the loose curls on the back of Mickey's neck. Mickey groaned in appreciation, unable to stop himself.
Mickey flicked his tongue over the sharp bone and Ian whined, high pitched and wanton.
"Do you want me to stop for a little bit?" Mickey asked, wanting to make sure it wasn't too much, though stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.
Ian practically growled. "Don't you dare."
Mickey chuckled and resumed kissing and teasing his way down Ian's chest, stopping at both nipples to give them some attention. Ian was squirming and panting in a matter of seconds, his hands clutched in Mickey's hair. Mickey was delighted at how responsive he was, pleased at being able to reduce him to this whimpering mess with just his mouth. He ran his lips over the corrugations of his sensitive ribs, making Ian squirm, before centering himself on his abdomen, placing kisses all over his flat stomach, and dipping his tongue into his belly button.
Ian's breath hitched again as Mickey ran the tip of his tongue over his navel. "T-that feels so good…"
Mickey smiled against his skin and then looked up. "Would it be okay if I took your pants off now? We can stop any time you need to."
He watched as Ian's Adam's apple bobbed once again, while he thought about it for a few seconds. Mickey remained patient, running his fingers tenderly down his sides, dropping kisses on his chest, and nuzzling his warm soft skin.
"Okay," Ian finally nodded his consent. "Y-you can take them off."
"Are you sure?" Mickey asked again, wanting to be a hundred percent certain.
"Yes," Ian replied. "I'm just… a little bit nervous."
"It'll be okay," Mickey muttered. "We can stop whenever you want."
Ian shook his head slightly. "Keep going."
Mickey grabbed one of Ian's hands and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, a sweet little gesture that made Ian's heart race. Then he unzipped his jeans carefully, his hazel eyes fixed on Ian's face to watch for any signs of discomfort. Ian smiled reassuringly at him and Mickey pulled the pants down carefully, tugging them until they were lying in a pool on the floor.
Once again, Mickey allowed himself a few seconds to just gaze at Ian. He had caught a glimpse of him naked before, but he'd never been close enough to see him properly, like this. Ian's legs were long, lean and dusted with light brown hair. His thighs looked strong and Mickey had to resist the urge to lean down and nip at the hard muscle there. He was wearing a pair of snug boxer briefs, the grey cotton stretched over the curve of his erection. He was exquisite.
Mickey chose to focus on other parts of his body before getting to the portion of Ian still covered by his clothing, to ease Ian into the intimacy of it, to give him a chance to change his mind if he wanted to. Mickey scooted almost to the foot end of the bed, and grabbed one of Ian's feet reverently, massaging them gently as he dropped a few kisses to his perfect ankle.
Ian's eyes widened in shock. "W-what are you doing?"
"Kissing you," Mickey answered, doing the same with the other ankle. "Is this alright?"
"I… I've never…" Ian didn't seem to be able to find the words.
"I know," Mickey muttered, understandingly. "But I want to make you feel as good as I can, to make you feelhow beautiful I think all of you is. Do you like this?" He kissed him again, moving his lips to trail a kiss from his ankle up his calf.
Ian shivered, but nodded slowly. "Yes. I-it's nice."
"Okay," Mickey placed an open mouthed kiss to the same spot before nipping his calf carefully, feeling the flesh tightening under his teeth. He worked his way up until he reached his knee, raising his leg a little to lick the sensitive skin on the back of it, causing Ian to squirm in reaction.
Ian gasped when he climbed higher, reaching his thigh, kissing and nipping at random spots until he moved to the inner side, sucking there intently. Ian moaned, long and high, and arched his back as if asking for more. Mickey couldn't help but smile at his reaction. It was exactly what he wanted.
With his head buried between his legs as he sucked on the sensitive skin there, Mickey was suddenly wrapped in Ian's musky scent, the smell of arousal already permeating the room and each and every one of Mickey's senses. He was dying to put his mouth on him, to drive him crazy as he lapped around the head of his cock. He wanted to give Ian a reason to moan loudly and scream in pleasure. He wanted to turn something Ian had always seen as an obligation into something he could enjoy freely.
Only a quick glance was necessary to get Ian's consent to take his underwear off, and then Mickey was eye-level with Ian's erection, straining towards his stomach and leaking at the tip. He was big and smooth, one thick vein tracing the underside all the way up to the dusky pink head that Mickey couldn't wait to suckle on. He wrapped his fingers around him tentatively, half expecting Ian to stop him, but when Ian groaned low in his throat, he took it as a green light to keep going.
With a firm grip, Mickey stroked him a few times, paying attention to the hitches of breath and the way Ian's face contorted in pleasure so he would know what he liked. Ian's head was thrown back in ecstasy and Mickey was desperate to show him how much better it could still be. He dropped on his elbows and got comfortable between Ian's legs, licking his lips in preparation.
He was about to put the head of Ian's cock into his mouth when Ian suddenly let out a choked sound and said urgently, "no, no! Wait!"
Mickey pulled away as if he'd been slapped, desperate to apologize for whatever he'd done wrong. "What? What is it? Are you okay? I'm sorry!"
Ian propped himself up on his elbow and used his other hand to cup Mickey's cheek reassuringly. His eyes were full of shame. "I'm okay, Mickey. I'm great, actually. It's just… I can't let you give me a blowjob. Not without a condom."
Mickey closed his eyes for a moment, feeling incredibly foolish. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to make it good for you."
"It was. It is," Ian assured him sweetly. "I… I get tested regularly, but I just want you to stay extra safe."
Mickey's chest was flooded with unexpected warmth, and he crawled his way up the bed to claim Ian's lips in a passionate kiss that took both of their breaths away. Ian was absolutely dazed when he pulled away, until he watched Mickey's face cloud with dismay.
"Oh crap, I don't have any condoms with me," Mickey scowled in frustration. He had never brought a boyfriend home before, and he never expected to end up in bed with Ian, so all his stuff was back at his apartment.
Ian wrinkled up his nose adorably. "Give me a second," he whispered, before quickly retrieving lube and a box of condoms from his bag. He dropped the lube on the bed for later, but handed Mickey one of the condoms. "That's better."
Mickey rolled it on Ian's cock in one swift motion and waited a few seconds, watching Ian carefully for any signs of regret. When Ian simply bit his lip in anticipation, Mickey smiled and then lowered his head and sucked him into his mouth. Ian emitted a choked off moan, but Mickey wasn't satisfied. He didn't want the rubbery taste of the condom in his tongue, but Ian's natural taste. He hoped he would be able to do it the way he wanted to someday. He hoped Ian would allow him to stay around long enough to do so.
For now, he had to be content with what he had, which actually was amazing. He focused on the head first, sucking with his cheeks hollowed, before swallowing around him to allow more of Ian's cock to fill his mouth. He took as much of him as he dared before he started bobbing his head up and down, in time with his hand and making sure to give some attention to Ian's balls as well. His moans were echoing against the walls, and in other circumstances, Mickey would've been worried that his family would hear, but he couldn't care, not now. Right now, it was all about Ian.
"Oh Mickey," Ian groaned, hands flying to tangle his fingers on Mickey's curls when he couldn't stop himself anymore. "Oh god, don't stop."
Mickey wasn't planning to. He went a little faster, Ian's fingers tightening on the back of his head, swallowing and hollowing his cheeks, reminding himself to breathe through his nose so he wouldn't choke. He loved how it felt to have Ian filling his mouth, the weight of his cock heavy on his tongue, the way it made his eyes water and his breath stutter. He loved how Ian was forcing himself to stay still, even though he really wanted to thrust into Mickey's mouth, the way his hips shifted just so telling Mickey he was having trouble keeping control. Mickey let his eyes wander up, following the lines of Ian's body, to see his lips parted, head thrown back, hair absolutely messy after running his own hands through it. He saw his completely blissed out expression and couldn't help but moan around him, so incredibly happy and honored to be the first one to give this experience to him.
Ian keened loudly then, arching even further and instinctively pushing into Mickey's mouth, as his cock twitched. He came hard into the condom and Mickey wished they didn't have that barrier between them, wished he could feel the warm spurts of come falling on his tongue, sliding down his throat. Nevertheless, he sucked him through it until Ian was done, still panting and moaning, fingers gripping so tightly at Mickey's curls that his scalp had gone numb.
Mickey pulled away, moving up Ian's body to kiss him, wanting to replace the taste of latex in his mouth with the warm sweetness of Ian's mouth. Ian welcomed him into the kiss lazily, letting Mickey part his lips with his tongue to lick inside, as he lay boneless on the bed, eyes closed and chest heaving.
"You okay?" Mickey asked once more. He brushed the hair off Ian's forehead and dropped a few kisses to his cheeks and jaw. "Was it too much?"
"God, no," Ian muttered. He tried lifting an arm to wrap it around Mickey and failed, still shaky after his orgasm. "That was fantastic."
Mickey hummed happily. "Good. I'm glad you enjoyed it." He pecked his lips and then took care of the condom, tying it and throwing it in the trash bin near the bed. He caressed Ian's sides reverently. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"
Ian finally opened his eyes, a shock of deep blue settling on Mickey's hazel ones, something a little tentative in them. "No, not really."
"Do you want me to keep going?" Mickey asked, watching him carefully, not wanting to push him.
Biting his lip bashfully, Ian nodded. "Would that be okay? I just… you make me feel so good. I've never felt like this before…"
Mickey rested their foreheads together and nudged the tip of his nose against Ian's softly. "Of course. It's more than okay."
They resumed their kisses, soft at first and gradually growing in intensity, until their hunger revived. Mickey couldn't get enough of him; he wanted to kiss every inch of Ian, cover every inch of his pearly skin with his lips to ensure there wasn't any part of him that felt unloved and unwanted.
As Mickey started kissing his neck again, Ian gripped onto his shirt, tugging it a bit impatiently. "Could you take this off?"
Mickey didn't reply. He simply sat up, straddling Ian's thighs, and pulled the shirt over his head, not even bothering with the buttons. He felt immediately on fire as Ian's eyes raked over him, with a hungry glint in them he'd never seen before. He reached hesitantly, as if scared Mickey would push him away if he tried to touch him, and ran his long, pale fingers down his arms, tracing the curve of his shoulders, before outlining the muscles of his chest. Mickey held his breath as he did it, suddenly painfully aware of how turned on he was, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants. He'd been able to ignore it until now, but not with Ian's hands on him, not when he was looking at him like that.
"Your skin is beautiful," Ian whispered amazed, as if he'd never been allowed to just touch anyone like this before. His blue eyes left the path of dark hair that dusted Mickey's chest and moved up to meet his. "You are beautiful."
Mickey grinned and caught one of Ian's hands in both of his. "Hey, I think that's my line."
Ian giggled – he actually giggled – and used his free hand to cup Mickey's face. "Well, I need to borrow it."
Mickey didn't reply. Instead, he leaned down and kissed him again. He didn't seem to able to stop, wanting to feel Ian's lips against him until his lips bled. He'd never felt like this, like he needed to kiss someone more than he needed to breathe, like the entire world could vanish around him and he wouldn't care as long as he had this man in his arms.
Mickey reached for the bottle of lube next to them and checked with Ian for confirmation that he still wanted to continue. Ian seemed a bit nervous, but he nodded anyway, breathing deeply and trusting Mickey completely.
To keep him distracted, Mickey sealed his lips over one of Ian's nipples and teased it with his tongue, eliciting a guttural groan out of him. He circled his entrance with a slick finger, forcing himself to ignore the texture of the scars on Ian's skin. He pushed the first finger in, sliding easily all the way in. He moved it around a bit, trying to find the right way to play Ian and find the perfect sounds he knew resided in him before adding a second finger and crooking them upwards. Ian's whole body jolted with a soft helpless cry.
"God, Ian, you're fantastic," Mickey muttered, mesmerized. He couldn't stop watching him as he arched with the pleasure coursing through his body. Seeing Ian so turned on, maybe for the first time, was a sight to behold.
He pushed in with three fingers next, scissoring them inside of him, making sure to brush against his prostate on every other stroke. Ian's cock was twitching on his stomach, hard and leaking again. Mickey had to fight the almost irresistible urge to put it in his mouth once more.
He kissed the center of his chest instead, feeling Ian's heart pounding wildly against his lips. "Do you want me to make you come like this? Should I keep going?"
"More," Ian demanded brokenly. "More. I want you. I need you. Please, Mickey, please."
Mickey's breath stuttered in his throat. "Are you sure? We don't have to do anymore if you don't…"
"Mickey," Ian interrupted, hips moving slightly to try to get Mickey's fingers deeper. "This is… this is… please."
Ian was far gone and Mickey was completely certain that with just a few more strokes he could make him come. But Ian wanted more, and tonight was about giving Ian everything he wanted, everything he needed, everything he'd been denied. And Mickey wanted more just as much.
Ian whined in protest when he withdrew his fingers. Mickey was suddenly very aware of how hard he was, how much he needed some relief, some friction, anything. He propped the button of his jeans open and then lowered the zipper. Ian followed every move he made with a steady gaze, licking his lips in anticipation.
A flash of doubt crossed his face, when Mickey got back on the bed, completely naked. He settled back beside Ian, keeping enough distance to let him breathe and keep him from panicking. Ian slowly trailed his hand down Mickey's chest and stomach, hesitating just below his navel, and Mickey swallowed thickly, desire flooding his belly and making his cock twitch where it stretched toward Ian's hand, but he couldn't rush him now, when they were so close.
"Still doing okay?" He asked, not caring if he had to ask the same question a million times. He wanted to remind Ian he could still back out if he didn't want this. He didn't want to be like any of those guys.
Ian smiled softly, his dark eyes meeting Mickey's briefly. "Yes, I'm still okay." Mickey didn't' see any fear or doubt in them.
"Good," Mickey leaned down to kiss his lips quickly before reaching for a condom, unwrapping it and rolling it lightly over his erection, hissing at the contact and fighting off the strong urge to stroke himself until he came.
Ian watched him for a few seconds in silence. "Do you want me to get on my knees now?"
Mickey's mouth curved downwards, sadly. "No, honey. Just stay like that. I want to be able to see you and I want you to see me, so you know it's me here with you the whole time."
Ian's eyes suddenly welled with tears, but he held them back. His voice was watery and shaky when he spoke again. "Okay."
Mickey simply kissed him for a while, trying to ease him back to the relaxed state he'd been before, to erase all the bad memories from his mind, at least for a little while. He kissed him tenderly, a huge contrast from the passion in the air earlier. Mickey's lips were caressing his, as if they had all the time in the world.
When he was loose and pliant under him, Mickey pulled away with a smile and brushed his hair back sweetly. "Ready?"
"Yes," Ian answered softly, hands coming to rest on Mickey's shoulders, as if they belonged there, fingers curving there easily, while Mickey applied enough lube.
With one last steadying breath, Mickey lined up against Ian's entrance and slowly and carefully eased ahead. Ian let out a breathy gasp and held on tighter to Mickey as he felt the head breaking through the resistance of the first rings of muscle. Mickey kept his hazel eyes fixed on him, open and full of affection, hoping it would make it easier for Ian like this.
As soon as he was all the way in, buried deep into the slick heat of Ian's body, he noticed how quickly and easily it accepted the intrusion, accepted him. It was as if they had been made to fit together.
The urge to thrust until he came was almost choking him, but Mickey ignored it, determined to focus on Ian. He smiled down at him as he stroked the outlines of his face. Ian's eyes were closed, a small crease between his eyebrows that sent a pang of concern straight to Mickey's chest. But then he opened them, and they found and fixed on Mickey's, as if he was seeing him for the first time. His face relaxed and his body opened up even more, welcoming him.
"You look so incredibly beautiful right now…" Mickey whispered, unable to look away.
The corners of Ian's mouth curved up slightly. He ran his thumb over Mickey's bottom lip, still cherry red after all those amazing kisses. "You're too sweet for your own good."
"No," Mickey leaned down and nuzzled against his neck. "I'm just honest."
Ian let one of his hands trail down Mickey's spine, feeling the strength in his muscles, shifting minutely as Mickey held himself back, waiting. "You can move, you know," he muttered. "I'm not gonna break."
"I'm not taking any risks," Mickey replied, kissing along his jaw. His hips started a gentle rhythm, barely sliding out before pushing back in. Ian's breath stuttered in his throat.
Ian's knees dropped wider, spreading further for Mickey, who took advantage of it to search for the right angle. Just one thrust against that intensely sensitive bundle of nerves made Ian release a high pitched moan that made heat pool in Mickey's belly again. He could feel their need growing steady and slow inside of them, so achingly perfect that Mickey wished he could make it last forever. He wanted to see that ravenous look on Ian's face for a very long time. He wanted him to look that free, that young, that completely and utterly stunning forever. There were no lines of worry, of stress, of pain etching Ian's face right now. It was all pleasure and sheer bliss.
Oh, Mickey was falling so hard for this man.
Ian began shifting his hips, eagerly meeting every thrust of Mickey's, throwing his head back and moaning a little louder. "Oh Mickey…"
"Like that?" Mickey asked, breathless, making sure to keep the same angle, thrusting more steadily and pushing firmly, pounding Ian's prostate each time.
"Yes, yes," Ian's eyes rolled back and his lips were parted, as more and more delicious sounds poured out of him. "Don't stop. Please, don't… this is… I've never…"
"It's okay, honey," Mickey wrapped his arms around him, eliminating whatever distance remained between their bodies, feeling Ian's rigid cock trapped against their stomachs. "Let go whenever you need to. It's okay."
Ian's eyes suddenly settled on him, wide, bright and so blue that Mickey thought he was staring right into the ocean. "I… I… Mickey."
Mickey rested their foreheads together and whispered against his lips. "So beautiful."
Ian moaned again, louder and higher in pitch than ever, fingers tightening their grip on Mickey's back and shoulder, as he arched and came, hot spurts of come spilling between them, shaking him to his core.
Mickey watched him fall apart, twitching all around him, more than enough to make him take that final leap as well. He'd been hard for so long, unbelievably aroused just by watching Ian's pleasure. He groaned, allowing Ian's name to leave his lips in a breathless whine, as the wave of powerful pleasure and release washed over him.
He barely managed to stop himself from crushing Ian against the mattress, holding himself up on his elbows. His body was barely responding, spent and boneless after his orgasm. Ian was just blinking his eyes open, slow and lazy, mouth still parted as he panted. His skin had a pinkish glow, his lips were ruby red and he looked just as spent as Mickey felt.
Mickey realized what a privilege it was to see him like this, soft and trusting in his arms after willingly giving himself to him. Ian had allowed Mickey to make love to him, not because he felt like he had to, but because hewanted to.
He was so overwhelmed by that thought that he almost cried.
Ian dropped his arms on the bed, unable to hold them up anymore. Mickey smiled tenderly down at him, gently brushing his hair back and then stroking it.
"Hey," he whispered and Ian's eyes fluttered open to meet his. "You doing okay?"
Ian licked his lips lazily before answering. "Yeah," his voice was raspy, hoarse, and Mickey thought, with a new pang of arousal that made his cock twitch were it was still buried inside Ian, that he'd done that. "Just having trouble putting words together…"
Mickey chuckled and moved carefully to pull out. "I hope that's a good thing," he muttered, and then he added, a bit more concerned, "it is, right?"
Ian sighed in obvious contentment and cupped Mickey's cheek, bringing him down into a sleepy kiss. "Oh definitely."
Mickey kissed him again, and then shifted until he was on his side, not entirely sure if Ian wanted him to stay or go to the couch to sleep. He delayed making a decision by reaching for some tissues and wiping Ian's stomach clean before doing the same with his. He disposed of them and the condom before looking back at him.
Ian was staring back at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth uncertainly.
"What is it?" Mickey asked, trying not to panic. Had he made a mistake? Was Ian already regretting this?
"I…" Ian cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know how to ask this, but… uhm, would you… would you hold me? S-sleep here with me and hold me?"
Mickey felt his soul melting at that and he immediately slid under the covers, opening his arms in welcome, waiting for Ian to come into them. He did, with a nervous smile but a joyful glint in his eyes that made his heart soar. Mickey rested against the pillows and Ian nestled in his arms, his head cradled on his shoulder as if being there was just as good as coming home.
Ian let out another contented sigh, arm thrown over Mickey's stomach and legs tangling together. Mickey held him, fingers rubbing slow circles in the small of his back feeling the sweet puffs of breath against his skin. It didn't take long before Ian was asleep, body molding completely to Mickey's.
Mickey stayed awake for a long time, just watching him. It didn't take long for him to realize that, for the first time since he had met him, Ian was deeply asleep, with no nightmares tainting his rest.
He pulled him a little bit closer, just in case.