Chapter Text
Summer camp was bullshit and so was Ian for still working there. It had been six years since he had met Mickey – about six years more than he should have been content doing this shit. They had been fucking casually for a year or so after that first summer and not long after that he sort of just... moved in... with Ian? It wasn’t some big official decision; he just spent enough time at Ian’s place that it was really not worth it for him to go home at all. So one day, he just didn’t, and they hadn’t looked back.
Ian was still chipper as ever when he left Mickey all alone for two months with nothing more than a kiss and a promise to call every couple of days. Mickey would snort and roll his eyes because he knew better than to think he’d keep that promise after this long. Ian got busy and forgot so Mickey usually only got a call once a week or so. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Ian always called from the public phone in the camp office so they couldn’t even get up to any adult conversation. Or... Mickey could try and then get hung up on by a stammering Ian. Something about not wanting the kids to see him with a boner. Mickey just called it disappointing.
So Mickey couldn’t even get any verbal action for two months during which he wasted away the days at his shitty job as an after-dark janitor for a few different restaurants in the city. He spent his whole shift praying that that would be the night that Ian would feel adventurous and call after lights-out for old time’s sake. He never did and Mickey curled up alone in their bed night after night.
The second summer after Ian and Mickey properly got together and Mickey was stuck feeling like an army wife, Mandy ‘solved’ the problem by getting Mickey a cat. It was a fuzzy little squashed-faced orange creature that apparently looked like someone’s cat from Harry Potter, so Ian, being the giant nerd that he is, named it Crookshanks. Mickey never called it that though, preferring the call of varieties of different insults instead. It didn’t respond to any names anyways so Mickey figured it didn’t really matter.
The thing was meant to keep him company but seeing that it had next to no interest in actually being near him Mandy had failed that objective. It mostly slept under the bed or the couch all day and only emerged when it was time to eat or use the litterbox. He was a useless little ginger shitlet and the only reason they didn’t try to find another home for the thing was because it absolutely adored Ian and the feeling was mutual. As one might imagine this created problems seeing as Ian was away from the house for two months of the year but they made it work. (A couple times over the summer Mickey would threaten to drop the thing off on Mandy’s doorstep and let her find in a new home but Ian would always say something along the lines of ‘if that cat isn’t there when I come home you’re not going to get any dick until Christmas.’ Mickey grumbled a little (a lot) but always let it drop.)
When it came time for Ian to come back home Mickey had to get his shit together. He moved from one end of the apartment to the other like a cleaning tornado, straightening everything up and making it look like he’d actually kept the place clean in Ian’s absence and hadn’t lived on take-out and frozen food the whole time. He finished cleaning and took out the garbage, then hopped in the shower and scrubbed himself down. He took a little extra time to get ready and once he’d finished he got dressed in his best-fitting jeans and one of Ian’s shirts. Then he slumped down on the couch and watched cooking shows until he heard the keys in the front door lock.
He tiptoed across the living room to the front door so Ian wouldn’t hear his footsteps. The second the door swung open Mickey was on Ian, pulling him in by the front of his shirt and getting on his toes to kiss him. His surprised sound turned quickly into a hum of pleasure and he dropped his bag to the floor so he could put both arms around Mickey’s waist.
There was no way to describe what Mickey did then aside from saying that he climbed Ian like a fucking tree. Ian answered him by holding him tight, letting Mickey hang off him like a lemur. His big hands grabbed Mickey’s ass and their kiss broke with twin groans.
“Hey,” Ian said softly, leaning their temples together.
“Don’t give me that shit. Get on me. Now,” Mickey panted, giving Ian’s hips a squeeze with his thighs before he climbed down and tugged Ian properly into the apartment by his belt loops.
Ian kicked his bag in and out of the way and then closed the door behind them, flicking the deadbolt locked. He let Mickey pull him into the living room and shove him down on their couch. He eagerly accepted Mickey when he clambered into his lap, hands falling to his hips and holding him there.
“Where’s Crookshanks?” Ian asked, clearly distracted as Mickey kissed his neck.
“Probably asleep under the bed,” Mickey told him, sitting back to tug Ian’s bright green camp shirt over his head. It wasn’t the best green on him – that was khaki green – but it made his hair look extra red. Mickey growled when Ian remained distracted by thinking about the cat and didn’t do anything to help Mickey strip him. “Why aren’t you naked yet?”
“Have you fed her?” Ian asked, turning to look over his shoulder towards their bedroom door as if he expected to sense his cat’s peril through the door.
“Yes,” Mickey gripped Ian by the chin and pulled him back in so he faced him. “Get your head in the game, Gallagher.”
“I’m just worried. I haven’t seen her in two months, you can’t really blame me,” Ian said.
“... you haven’t seen me in two month,” Mickey reminded him. He pulled Ian in for another kiss, victorious when him relaxing under him. He slid a hand down and cupped Ian’s erection, which he was pleased to feel. When they parted he breathed against Ian’s lips. “The cat’ll still be there when I’m done with you.”
“And what exactly do you have planned for me?” Ian asked, flirty in a way that Mickey was sure meant he definitely wasn’t worrying about the cat now.
“Take your fucking clothes off and you’ll find out,” Mickey barely finished his sentence when Ian was pushing him over on the couch so he could strip his own pants off. He laid back against the couch and kicked off his pants and boxers. When Mickey climbed back in his lap he tried to shove him over and get back on top but Mickey stopped him, pinning him firmly against the back of the couch and giving him a look.
“Don’t move,” Mickey said, slowly getting to his feet and stripped off the shirt he’d taken from Ian’s dresser and the jeans he knew Ian loved. He left the clothes on the floor and returned to Ian’s lap completely naked. He lined their dicks up and rutted them together.
“Shit,” Ian sighed, tilting his head to the side when Mickey went back to kissing and biting his throat. Ian had the presence of mind to wet a pair of fingers before reaching them around Mickey’s hip and down to his asshole. He groaned when he was able to slip the two digits into him with little resistance.
“You got started without me,” Ian commented, fingering Mickey until the other man grabbed his arm and pulled at him until he stopped. His hand went back to gripping Mickey’s hip.
“You might not have noticed because you were too busy thinking about the fucking cat, but I’m trying to get on your dick,” Mickey said, sitting up on his knees and reaching under himself to line up Ian’s dick. He started to sink down and when he spoke again his voice was breathy and tense. “Not my fault you took so fuckin’ long to catch up.”
“I’ll show you ‘catching up,’” Ian murmured, squeezing Mickey’s hips and bucking up into him. Mickey rode Ian hard and Ian rocked up into him at an increasingly feverish pace. Ian came first and jerked Mickey off to compensate, pushing up into him even as his cock softened and every thrust was a painful degree of sensation.
“You’re on top next round,” Mickey said once he’d managed to catch his breath. He remained slumped on top of Ian on the couch, still full of cock and practically purring in contentment.
“Yeah, just let me check on the cat and I’m all yours,” Ian teased and Mickey clung to him immediately. Ian sucked in a breath when Mickey’s body tensed around him.
“No fuckin’ way,” Mickey insisted. “You were gone for two months. I’m not letting you go again.”
“Until next summer,” Ian said.
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Mickey sighed and Ian kissed him then, smirking against his boyfriend’s lips as he thought of how he’d given his resignation notice and would never hand to remind Mickey about him leaving for the summer ever again.