Work Text:
“Gallagher”
Mickey lies flat on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He can feel the heat from the boy lying next to him, hear his steady breathing, but he needs Ian to be awake.
When there’s no response, he turns onto his side and tries again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey. Gallagher.”
Still nothing. Who knew Ian could sleep so heavy? Although, in his house it's probably a necessity with all that noise going on all the time.
Then, of course, Mickey remembers that he doesn’t have to be quiet. He shoves the back of Ian’s thigh with his knee, "GALLAGHER!" He says loud into the room.
Ian barely stirs, “Mmph?”
“Are you gonna wake up? We’re in an empty house right now. We need to make the most of it.”
“Ungh,” Ian groans, “Can’t. Too tired.”
Mickey rolls his eyes, a waste of energy in the darkness, especially as Ian has his back to him.
“Seriously Gallagher. You’re telling me we have this place to ourselves and you don’t want to fuck?”
Ian is softly snoring. Mickey thumps over onto his back again, wincing a little as his injured butt cheek hits the mattress.
He spares a glance at the back of Ian’s head, before he throws the covers off them both, annoyed. He's happy to let Ian get cold without them if he’s not going to get what he wants, and he pads to the bathroom to take a piss.
However when he gets back, Ian has rolled slightly onto his front, head rested on his folded arms, left leg crooked up to the side. He’s sort of in the recovery position, and his entire fucking body is just there, lit up by the moonlight through the thin curtains, all lithe and athletic, like one of those marble statues of gods that Mickey has seen in the odd history book. Only Mickey has never wanted to do the things he’s thinking about right now with those statues.
When he thinks about it Mickey would definitly describe himself as a bottom. When he was in juvie he had do most of the giving, but that was a survival thing more than anything else, and with Ian, the first time they had sex Mickey had done the fucking but that was essentially a show of power and it was over in less than ten minutes. They were only halfway through their second time when he’d flipped around and basically presented his ass to Ian and there wasn’t a single word of complaint.
It’s not that he doesn’t like doing the giving - sex is sex at the end of the day - he just prefers to be on the receiving end. Really, Mickey can’t deny how much he enjoys the feeling of Ian licking his asshole and getting him nice and wet, before sticking in one, two, three fingers and fucking him with them until he’s writhing and grinding down on Ian’s hand. He gets off so much on the feeling of Ian pushing his dick into him, nice and hard because they’re always in a hurry, pounding away until they’re both sweating and slippery. And when Ian reaches around and jerks Mickey’s cock until Mickey has to bat his hand away because Ian’s losing focus on what he’s doing and Mickey needs him to just. concentrate.
Yeah. Mickey really likes all of that. And when he has to top, he really just wants to get the job done.
But now here he is, presented with Ian’s naked body, pale and inviting, and just asking for Mickey to do all the things he likes having done to him.
Because, Mickey reasons, if it feels good to him then it’ll probably feel good to Ian, and if there’s an orgasm at the end of it, why the fuck not? And maybe, just maybe, with more time to do everything, Mickey can really make the most of it.
Of course, Mickey can fuck. He knows how to do that. But the other stuff, not so much. And right now the only thing Mickey can think of is how much he wants to bite down on Ian’s alabaster ass cheek and leave a mark on it, but he's thinking that would kind of ruin the moment.
So he gets back onto the bed and shuffles slowly closer. He runs a hand gently down the length of Ian’s spine, testing to see if he’s still asleep. Ian doesn’t really react except for a slight shiver and Mickey knows he’s not awake. Well if he's not going to wake up, then Mickey will get started without him.
As his eyes adjust to the dark again, Mickey just stares for a moment. He takes in what he doesn’t usually have the time – or the angle - to appreciate. He looks at Ian’s short hair, which has grown a little from the buzz cut, but Mickey still mourns the loss of the longer bangs that he used to grab hold of to stop him from pushing Ian’s head down as he would suck Mickey’s cock so avidly.
His eyes wander past the freckly shoulders – there are less freckles than there used to be, which seems weird because it was a hot summer and Ian had his shirt off a lot – and down the muscled expanse of Ian’s back. He eyes where Ian's lean torso tapers in at the waist - Mickey thinks Ian’s actually kind of slender for a guy – and he notices a couple of bruises there. Mickey lays his fingertips against them and remembers gripping into Ian’s skin during the last round. It makes him chuckle, and it makes his dick a little harder, when he thinks about how Ian marks so quickly, like a piece of soft fruit.
Ian’s legs are still mostly covered by the comforter, leaving just his ass in view. Mickey pushes it down more and, while he’s there, he gently moves the leg that Ian has bent so that his knee is further up the bed, leaving everything exposed, and making his ass cheeks look so round and...
Mickey’s mouth actually starts to water. He didn’t know that was really a thing.
He moves around on the bed, careful not to disturb, and settles between Ian’s open legs. Bending down, he presses a kiss to the inside of Ian’s right thigh. He nuzzles closer inbetween Ian’s ass cheeks and for a second he just breathes.
He wonders if he should find it weird. He’s smelling someone’s ass, but he’s heard about that new baby smell being addictive, and that’s what the scent of Ian’s skin does for him. It smells like soap and sweat and a little bit of fabric softener and, down here, it smells like come too and the whole thing combined sends a rush of blood southward and Mickey’s dick twitches. He takes a long inhale through his nose, then he puts a hand on each cheek and gently spreads Ian apart.
Mickey’s never been up this close and personal to another man’s asshole before, but this is as good a time as any. He wets his lips, gathers up some spit on the end of his tongue and licks out at the little ring of muscle in front of him.
Ian huffs out a sigh and Mickey lifts his head quickly, but Ian hasn’t moved, so Mickey continues. He licks in little circles with the tip of his tongue, noticing that Ian has soft downy little hairs around his hole and that he finds it cute – what the fuck is up with that? – because on most porn he’s seen it’s either bare or a motherfucking jungle down there and he idly wonders what his must look like. Ian never complains though.
Mickey wants to push his tongue inside like Ian does to him, and he also really wants to get a finger in there because that’s one of his favourite things. But he knows that Ian doesn’t take it very often so he knows he needs lube. Spit won’t get the job done.
Reluctantly, he moves away for a second and reaches behind the pillow where he stashed the little bottle of lube after the last time. Ian bought it especially for tonight and he’ll be taking it away with him when he leaves tomorrow – no way is that staying in this house.
As soon as Mickey is back on the bed, he is licking a stripe up from the base of Ian’s cock, which is pressed down into the mattress, back up to his hole and around it again, pointing his tongue and pressing at it. He edges back a tiny way and starts to put lube onto his fingers. It’s probably way too much - he’s not usually in charge of this - but better safe than sorry.
It’s awkward trying to do this while he’s resting on his elbows, but he’s not moving away again. He kind of wishes he has another pair of hands to part Ian’s cheeks so he can really see what he’s doing, but he makes do with one to pull the left cheek slightly, and gently presses his forefinger to Ian’s hole. He makes circular motions, figuring that the movement will eventually get him inside with less force than just pushing. Ian being asleep is helpful too, because he’s relaxed and not trying to push him away.
When the slick tip of Mickey’s finger slips in, and immediately the muscles of Ian’s ass clamp around it, Mickey’s eyes roll back and he feels the first drop of pre-come make its way out, because if it feels like that on just his finger, what will it feel like on the sensitive head of his dick and fuck, fuck, fuck.
He breathes steadily for a few seconds, and waits. Waits for Ian’s body to relax again and is amazed at his own patience really because he is not a patient person especially when it comes to sex. But Ian does relax and when he does, Mickey watches his finger slide in more and it is so fucking tight. He holds his breath this time and pushes as far as he can, then slides it out again, a slow drag, mesmerised by the movement. He swaps to his middle finger because it’s longer and he wants to get in deep. It’s when this finger is in to the knuckle that Ian clenches his ass and Mickey knows he’s woken up.
He gets up onto his knees and leans over Ian’s prone form, finger still inside him, still moving, “How long have you been awake?”
Ian moans.
Mickey stills.
Ian wriggles in protest, “Since you put your fingers inside me.”
“It’s just one,” Mickey says, starting to move it again, “Why didn’t you let on?”
“You were...,” a sound comes out of Ian’s mouth that makes Mickey bite his lip, “You were doing such a good job. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Apart from his ass cheeks tightening around every push of Mickey’s finger, Ian still hasn’t really moved. Mickey can see a flush of red spreading out from his hairline and wonders how his cock must be doing pressed underneath him, but he really wants to see Ian squirming.
He looks back to where his finger is still moving in and out at a regular pace and decides he needs to add a second.
He pulls Ian’s hole slightly open with the finger already in place and, with a little extra lube, slides his forefinger alongside. He’s fascinated as he watches the muscle make way to accommodate and he remembers how fucking amazing this feels when Ian has three fingers knuckle deep in him. They never really have time to appreciate it though, and it’s probably because by this stage, Mickey is whining at Ian to get inside him. He wonders if Ian feels the same. He has the sudden urge to say something filthy to him, but it comes out as:
“Okay?”
If Ian is surprised he doesn’t show it, he just murmurs, “Mmm-hmm” and pushes back against Mickey’s fingers. Mickey stifles a groan.
“Are you gonna fuck me, Mickey?” Ian says, circling his hips.
The words are unexpected to Mickey, and he blurts out, “Fuck yeah. I want to. You want me to?” His other hand is on his cock, smoothing the pre-come down the length and over the head.
“Yeah. I want you to hold me down and fuck me hard.” Ian replies, his voice even lower than usual, and Mickey swallows.
He’s not used to Ian being so forthright, but he fuckin’ likes it. He wants to do all the things Ian says, but he’s not going to pound the hell out of Ian when he never really bottoms. He doesn’t want to hurt him. Besides they’ve got all night and he really wants to go again before morning.
He parts his fingers inside Ian, making Ian gasp a little, and Mickey knows that as much as Ian may think he wants it hard and fast, he’s not ready for it yet. When Ian is suddenly holding up a condom next to him, Mickey knows that he's definitely ready but he wants to make sure Ian is too so Mickey takes a little bit longer, spreading, lubricating, making it right. He wants to get it right. This isn’t their frantic first time.
He slides his fingers out carefully and spends a moment just looking at Ian’s ass, now open and ready and he needs to get the condom on quickly because he doesn’t think he can spend another minute not inside Ian. Not right now.
When he’s fully ready and he’s spreading Ian just right, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before he’s pressing inside. There’s no rush. Mostly because Ian is tight as hell and also because Mickey wants to feel every. single. fucking. inch.
Ian, usually the quiet one, is letting out a stream of moans and cut-off obscenities and Mickey has never heard his name said so many times in less than a minute as he pushes his cock slowly into his boy, but when Ian suddenly heaves himself up onto his hands and knees, and he arches his back and rolls his hips backwards, forcing Mickey to bottom out, Mickey is gone.
“Jesus, fuck. You impatient fucker.”
“Me?” Ian turns to look over his shoulder, face flushed, “You’re a goddamned tease.”
Mickey starts at a slow pace, eyes fixed on where he is sliding in and pulling out because he’s never seen them like this before, never watched and now all he can think about is how fucking good it looks where they’re joined together.
Every so often Ian clenches around his dick and it makes Mickey’s vision white out for a second. He rolls his hips and wishes he had turned Ian over first so he could see his face, but then again if he had, it would probably all be over by now.
Mickey puts his hand around Ian’s hips, fits it back into the bruises again for a moment, before sliding around to take a hold of Ian’s cock. As he pushes in from behind, so he strokes Ian with the same movements at the front. The noises Ian makes are almost pornographic.
All at once, Ian puts his hands up on the headboard in front of him. It makes his back concave and his ass push out further. Mickey lets go to steady himself and takes hold of Ian’s hips, but it suddenly seems unnecessary as Ian begins to push himself back and forth on Mickey’s cock.
At first the rhythm is off because Mickey is thrusting one way and Ian another, and they’re banging against each other awkwardly until Mickey cottons on to what is happening. He leans back a little, holding on to Ian’s shoulder for want of anything better to grab onto, his other arm shaking with the effort of holding himself, and Mickey lets Ian fuck himself on his cock.
Ian’s pace is brutally fast and please - Mickey is only fucking human. This is one of the hottest fucking things he’s ever seen and it’s not on a laptop screen, it’s actually happening to him right now. His balls are so tight, and he’s surprised if there’s anything left after two rounds, but he’s gonna shoot his load and he decides that next time he’s gonna do it all over Ian’s pretty fucking face, but there’s no time for that now so...
With a groan, Mickey is coming and it’s on one of Ian’s down thrusts thank fuck, so he’s right up inside Ian’s ass and Ian must have known because he stops moving and seats himself whilst Mickey is pulsing away.
“Fuck, fuck. Ian.” Mickey shouts into the blissfully empty house, followed by, “Get up. Get off me. Quick.”
Mickey tries to buck Ian off, and he notices a fleeting moment where Ian actually looks a little hurt as he climbs off, but Mickey won’t let that last because he’s pushing Ian forcefully over onto his back and clambering over his legs and taking Ian’s cock into his mouth.
Ian lets out a cry and thrusts his hips up, but Mickey pins them down with his forearm, a nod to Ian’s earlier request, then he takes Ian as deep as he can manage, using his hand for the part that he can’t get down his throat, and he sucks and licks and hums around him until Ian is coming with strangled gasps, and Mickey swallows it all, then he collapses where he is, head on Ian’s stomach.
“Christ. I thought you were tired,” Mickey mock-complains.
He gets no immediate response, so he tilts his head up. When his eyes find Ian’s face he asks, “What are you grinning at?”
And Ian grins more, “You called me Ian.”
Mickey sits up, removing the condom and tying it off. He drops it off the side of the bed and gets back in properly, pulling the covers back over them both.
“Shut up. Go to sleep,” He says, pressing a kiss to Ian’s shoulder, slinging an arm over his chest, and in his head he adds, “Love you.”