Colour it Orange, Call it Ian.

by Taubinator

Summary:

When Ian proposed the idea of no sex until he got a job, Mickey was sure he could outlast him.

Until he wasn't.

Notes:

It's that time again.

Mickey can’t believe they’re having this argument again, especially in front of Ian’s family.

 

“Great, I can go get money in thirty fucking seconds.”

 

Mickey doesn’t know what Ian’s problem is. They’re are plenty of ways for Mickey to get money now, even if some people consider them ‘unethical’ Money is money. Mickey still remembers a couple of tricks his brother taught him. His dad also scared a couple of cashiers to death so they offer Mickey money whenever he asks.

 

“Legal money.” Ian corrects, as if he can read Mickey’s mind. “Look, they’re hiring over at my warehouse, you could go over there today and apply.”

 

Mickey rolls his eyes, not looking at Ian as he prepares his toast. Ian must be joking if he thinks Mickey’s going to get the same shitty ass minimum wage job he has. Even though Ian has clarified wanting ‘legal’ money, there are plenty of ways to make it legal. Everyday Ian comes home Mickey has to hear him complaining about his back, saying he couldn’t do laundry, he couldn't wash the dishes, he couldn’t do anything but sit his ass on that couch and watch TV, Mickey does that everyday without a sore back.

 

“Thanks, no thanks.”

 

“Alright. If you don’t get a real job today, you’re not getting any more sex.” The rest of the family howls with laughter.

 

Mickey’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. Of course Mickey loves sex with Ian, that's one of the things that Mickey loves most- The entire Gallagher clan can vouch for that. Mickey doesn’t just love rough fucking, even though thats definitely up there on his list. Mickey also enjoys slow love making, communicating everything that can’t be said with words with their bodies, although he’d rather die than admit that to anybody.

 

Mickey knows Ian enjoys sex just as much if not more than him. Mickey can easily make it for however long Ian decides to hold back, knowing it won't last a couple of hours let alone days.

 

Mickey gasps dramatically. “Oh no, please!” He says in a mocking tone. “I don’t give a shit, man. I don’t need your disgusting ass dick.”

 

***

 

Mickey was relaxing on the couch, some shitty comedy show playing on the TV. Mickey waits until he feels like he’s quite literally falling asleep until he finally reaches the remote to try and find a more entertaining channel to watch. He scrolls past a few, none really getting his attention. He sighs and thinks about just turning the TV off and taking a nap instead before he sees a channel that catches his eye. The first thing he sees is two good looking men in a heated makeout session, one roughly pushing the other into the concrete wall behind them. Mickey shudders and thinks about him and a certain redhead in the same situation. 

 

Ian’s hands all over him, roughly manhandling him and pinning him against the wall, tongues swirling around each other, exploring and tasting intensely. Mickey feels his gut swirl, suddenly feeling hot in the otherwise regularly temperatured room. He looks down and notices the tent in his boxers, poking up and begging to be freed. Mickey digs his teeth into his bottom lip and palms himself through the fabric, feeling his hard length twitching happily at the new sensation of Mickey’s warm hand rubbing against it.

 

Mickey groans, is he really gonna jerk himself off on this couch? He looks around, the seemingly always busy house now empty except for him, some would consider it destiny. Mickey directs his attention to the movie playing- which could very well be considered porn- and goes to remove his boxers. He pauses and curses when he hears the doorknob turning. Mickey slips his boxers back on, barely being able to turn the TV off before whoever was behind the front door enters the house. 

 

Mickey scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly, hoping whoever just walked in doesn’t notice the full erection between his legs and the horny flush that spreads across his face. Mickey glances behind himself and smirks when he sees Ian all sweaty and out of breath from work. Mickey stands up and approaches him, practically attacking Ian’s lips as soon as he walks into the door.

 

Ian makes a surprised noise when their lips meet, quickly relaxing into the kiss and allowing himself to be pulled into it. Mickey grins into Ian’s lips when he feels Ian’s large hands on his head, calloused fingers intertwining with his locks of black hair. Fuck yeah.  Mickey’s mind is a haze of want- no need as he grips the back of Ian’s neck tighter, trying to get as close as humanly possible to Ian.

 

Mickey starts to walk forwards, pushing Ian up against the recently closed door. Ian makes a pleasant sound at the back of his throat when his back hits the door with a bang. Mickey thrusts his hips to meet Ian’s. Ian gasps when he feels Mickey’s raging hard on grind against his own. They pull back for needed oxygen.

 

“Jesus, Mick.” Ian pants, his eyes squeezing shut from the delicious friction Mickey’s boxers are providing, “What has gotten into you?” Ian asks breathlessly.

 

Soft grunts leave Mickey, his cock is aching and his ass is empty, that needs to change. Now. “Wanna bang.” Mickey breathes out, his tongue chasing Ian’s mouth.

 

Ian, much to Mickey’s dismay, puts his hands on Mickey’s shoulders and pushes him back, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Do you have a job?”

 

Mickey rolls his eyes, his demeanour changing and his hips slowing to a stop. “Seriously?” Mickey asks, exasperated.

 

Ian just sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, Mick.” He says with a shrug, seeming unapologetic as he pats Mickey’s bicep and pushes him off to the side, walking through the house, straight passed him.

 

Mickey’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and shock, when has Ian Gallagher, the guy who would fuck him in the freezer at the back of the store he used to work at, have any sort of restraint when it comes to sex with Mickey? His emotions mellow out and anger arises, he palms himself through his boxers and takes a sharp breath in, grimacing. Guess he’s gonna have to spend a night with his hand.

 

***

 

Mickey comes out of the bathroom that night, feeling unsatisfied. At least he doesn’t have to deal with blue balls. He glares at Ian as he closes the accordion door behind him, that son of a bitch is laying down peacefully, his eyes never leaving his phone.

 

Mickey just scowls and climbs into bed beside him, his annoyance growing larger than his want to be held tonight. He hears Ian set his phone down on the nightstand and shut off the bedside lamp. The room goes completely dark in the few seconds it takes Mickey’s eyes to adjust to the absence of light. 

 

Ian grabs the covers and scoots underneath them, trying to move closer to Mickey. Mickey just grumbles and attempts to get away from Ian, his nose practically making contact with the wall because of how small the bed is. Ian just sighs and drapes one arm over Mickey, pulling him into an embrace.

 

Mickey almost gives in. Almost. He immediately relaxes in Ian’s hold, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as the warmth radiating off of Ian makes him want to turn over, completely intertwine their limbs and not let go.

 

Mickey’s always felt safe with Ian, despite all they went through to get to this point. It can be a blessing and a curse, like when something is so clearly bothering  Mickey, yet he can’t bring himself to talk about it nor mention that there is something wrong. Ian can so easily deflate the situation, knowing exactly what to say in any scenario that can get Mickey talking. It can also be a pain in the ass, like right now.

 

“That was a long bathroom break.” Ian points out, whispering teasingly in Mickey’s ear with an audible grin. Mickey sighs at the feeling of Ian’s hot breath on his neck, real close to that spot right under his ear. Mickey shivers pleasantly, the hairs on the back of his neck stands up, fuck. He should just flip Ian over and climb on top of hi - Christ, Mickey. Get it together.

 

Mickey just grunts, wiggling in Ian’s grasp. “Yeah that’s what happens when your husband gives you blue balls. Remember when we were on our honeymoon? We practically never left the bed.” Mickey closes his eyes, relaying fond memories.

 

“Well, when we were on our honeymoon, it was a resort, all inclusive. Which meant no bills, no rent, no expenses to worry about. Now we’re back and my husband is still treating life like a vacation.” Ian whispers more seriously, keeping his hold tight on Mickey.

 

Mickey rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite Ian making a good point Mickey still has no desire to get a job nor has he forgiven Ian for leaving him hanging, literally. 

 

“If you want to fuck your fist for the rest of your life, fine by me.” Mickey mutters, grabbing Ian’s hand and peeling it off of himself, moving as far away from Ian as possible, to the point of uncomfortability.

 

One thing about Mickey is that he is stubborn. Once he has his mind set there is little you can do to change it. No matter how much he craves Ian’s arms around him like a forcefield, he needs to prove a point. Mickey just clenched his eyes shut and tried forcing himself into sleep. It didn’t matter how many damn sheep he needed to count, he can do this on his own for fucks sake.

 

***

 

Mickey’s eyes flutter open, squinting as the light from the sun shines directly on them. He takes one look down and sees his and Ian’s hands melded together, intertwining fingers. He shakes his head, mentally cursing himself yet leaning into the touch. He can feel his and Ian’s bodies slotted together like the match of a jigsaw puzzle. The corners of his lips tilt up into a small smile, feeling hot puffs of air being breathed on his neck. Judging by the few snorts and hitched breathing, Ian’s still sleeping. Judging by what Mickey can only assume to be his hard cock pressed right against the crack of his ass, the dream Ian is having must be interesting.

 

Mickey grins, grinding his ass back against Ian’s semi, making Ian moan softly and his hips buck forward, he can feel Ian’s cock grow more firm. Oh yeah, this’ll be easy. Mickey weasels his way out of Ian’s hold slowly, being sure not to wake him up. Mickey needs everything to go perfectly if he wants his plan to work, even making sure not to ruffle the sheets too much. Slipping out of Ian’s arms, Mickey climbs underneath the sheets, making his way down. His mouth waters as he makes his way down, his eyes drinking up every inch of Ian’s body. His pecs, his abs, oh god his abs, right down to that little- well no, big prize covered up by some boxers, probably Mickey’s he assumes because of the way Ian’s tip peaks out, red and angry, throbbing for some attention. Don’t worry, it’s going to get it.

 

Mickey reaches out and pinches the side of Ian’s boxers that is accessible, shimmying it down just enough to allow Ian’s rock hard nine inches spring out, clearly needing release. Mickey takes a sharp breath in at the sight, palming himself through his own boxers. Mickey’s drooling the more he stares at the leaking flesh in front of him, wanting nothing more than to taste that salty precum dribbling out at the tip. 

 

Mickey opens his mouth and hovers over Ian’s flushed dick, allowing some of his saliva to drip down and coat Ian’s erection. Mickey bites his lip and notes the way Ian’s cock twitches happily at the sensation, a small audible groan being heard from above the covers. Mickey tilts his head down, licking long stripes from the tip of Ian’s cock to the base, spreading around the self-made lubrication. 

 

The angle is kind of awkward, but Mickey can deal, hell they’ve had worse settings. The dugouts were nice but your shoes would sometimes slip in the mud if it rained the day before. Bad weather has never stopped them before, so who cares if it gets a little steamy under the blankets? Mickey adjusts himself, his right cheek pressing against the mattress as he opens his mouth wide, unhinging his jaw like a snake to accommodate Ian's thick meat. Mickey has to suppress moaning when he feels Ian slide across his tongue, his taste buds on fire with pure pleasure from Ian’s natural flavour.

 

Mickey makes a fist, curling his thumb inwards to stop his gag reflex, a trick he picked up a while ago when he wanted to give Ian blowjobs but couldn’t get his throat to accept it. He wraps his lips around the heavenly pleasurable cock that could manipulate Mickey into a pliant bitch at times. Mickey suctions his lips, starting to bob his head, the side of the bedsheet chafing against his head. Mickey’s eyes flutter shut and he takes his free hand to rub at the throbbing ache between his legs.

 

Mickey hears Ian groan and stir in his sleep, eventually hearing surprised and short moans. Mickey opens his eyes and looks up as the blanket above him gets peeled away, his eyes squinting from the morning light, trying to make eye contact with Ian none-theless. Mickey knows Ian enjoys eye contact, especially during blowjobs, from much past experience. He sees Ian’s pink flushed cheeks and his bed head hair that mimics messy sex hair. Maybe if Mickey squeezes harder he can pretend he actually got some last night. Mickey goes faster when he feels Ians hand on the back of his head. Fuck yeah, finally. Mickey knows Ian enjoys taking control, which Mickey has no problem with. He’s happy to have his throat fucked raw and puffy lips if that means he can take a break from this involuntary celibacy. He expects Ian to guide his head, which he does, backwards. He only pulls Mickey’s head away from the base of his dick, but not pushing forwards. Mickey tries to sink back down but Ian’s grip is unyielding. Mickey just raises an eyebrow at Ian as he’s unwillingly pulled off of Ian’s willing erection.

 

“Did you get a job yet?” Is the first words that come out of Ian’s mouth. Of fucking course. Ian’s the only man in the entire universe that would pass up a blowie in favour of talking about property taxes.

 

Mickey just sighs, then breathes back in due to the lack of oxygen he had under that blanket with a mouth full of dick. Ian doesn’t take that as an answer, just looking at Mickey expectantly while refusing to let go of his hair.

 

“No.” Mickey huffs, avoiding Ian’s gaze.

 

Ian just nods and releases Mickey’s hair, turning over and throwing the blanket off himself and walking out of the room.

 

“The fuck you goin’?” Mickey asks, definitely not watching Ian’s plump ass cheeks that are barely guarded by the thin fabric of the boxer’s he’s got on.

 

“Gonna go wack off in the shower.” Ian replies nonchalantly, as if none of this is affecting him.

 

Mickey groans and slumps back on the bed. Yet another failed attempt to break down Ian’s wall. Mickey is as surprised as he is angry, he really didn’t expect Ian to hold up this long. Two days doesn’t seem like a lot to regular couples, but compared to Ian and Mickey who practically bang each others brains out every day, this is a long fucking time to be apart. Yet again another failed attempt at getting pounded and yet another eventful experience with his right hand.

 

***

Ah, fuck! Yeah c’mon, harder! Fuck this feels so good. Shit, yes, right there! Oh god, that's the spot. Fucking pound me, Ian! So big, so big, so full… Shit, close! Don’t stop!

 

Mickey wakes with a gasp, his skin slick and sweaty, his hips rocking into the mattress. Mickey groans and slumps further into the bed. He’s so sex deprived that he’s having wet dreams and humping the bed like a pathetic teenager. Mickey rolls himself on his back, running a hand down his face in frustration. He jumps back slightly when he sees Ian staring at him.

 

“Fuck off.” Mickey says quickly, speaking before Ian can even get the chance to tease him for it.

 

“You’re just as vocal in your dreams as you are in real life.” Ian grins smugly, his hand moving underneath the covers.

 

Mickey’s eyes widen and a small blush grows on his cheeks. “I was talking out loud…?” Mickey asks carefully, praying to every god that he knows the answer.

 

Ian’s grin just widens and he nods his head. “Uh-huh.” 

 

Fuck.

 

Mickey never believed in god anyway and he hopes there are none based on the amount he’s committed the sin of lust over the past week. Yeah, a fucking week. A week of jerking his cock raw, a week of fingering his ass with his stubby fingers that can barely reach three fourths of how deep Ian’s skilled thin long fingers can get up there, pressing right on his prostate, fuck- Jesus. He needs to get laid. 

 

“You want some help with that?” Mickey asks, his eyes gleaming with hope, watching the blanket ruffle where Ian’s hand is.

 

And there’s that fucking question again.

 

“Well that depends, did you get a job?” Ian asks, his eyebrows raised in a serious expression.

 

Mickey scoffs, turning over onto his side. “Go jerk yourself off”.

 

Ian just sighs and tosses the blankets off of himself, heading towards the bathroom that they both have been frequenting recently.

 

When Mickey decides he can’t sleep any longer, he climbs off the bed and grabs some basketball shorts that were carelessly tossed on the ground. He sniffs them to make sure they’re still good, shrugging before throwing them on.

 

He trudges out of the safety of his and Ian’s room, entering the Gallagher chaos. He rolls his eyes at the occupied bathroom, the grunts and soft moans seeping into the hallway, the paper thin walls doing nothing to hide what's going on inside.

 

Mickey steps down the stairs, avoiding the rest of the family as he heads straight for the fridge. No one seems to acknowledge him either, just continuing with their business as he unscrews the lid on the jug of Sunny D, taking a few gulps.

 

The whole family has told Mickey to stop with what they consider to be a “disgusting” habit, but fuck them. If the scowl on his face isn’t enough to let them know that they should fuck off, he would be more than happy to tell them. 

 

It wasn’t long before they heard banging and yelling coming from upstairs. Eventually it ends and Carl comes stomping down the stairs, heading towards Mickey. 

 

“I never thought I would say this, but you and Ian seriously need to fuck.” Carl fumes, “I can’t keep pissing off the balcony because one of you needs to jerk off in the bathroom”.

 

Mickey just raises up a middle finger with his free hand, taking a final swig of the juice before twisting the cap back on and wiping off any access on his lips. “Fuck off”.

 

“He’s right, y’know,” Debbie chimes in.

 

Mickey tosses the juice back into the fridge, feeling done with this conversation already.

 

“It’s hard enough for me to get up everyday with Franny and get the both of us ready, I don’t need you two hogging up the bathroom”. She scoffs, lazily eating cereal, taking her eyes off of her phone in favour of glaring at Mickey. Mickey looks down at Franny whose face matches her mother’s scowl, even crossing her little arms and attempting to look angry, but just seeming adorable instead.

 

“Why the fuck is everyone talkin’ about our sex life?” Mickey asks, feeling embarrassed enough as it is about this whole situation, let alone adding everyone else's opinion.

 

“Why is it our problem?” Lip is quick to say. “Debbie’s not the only one with a kid that needs to be taken care of”. He raises his eyebrows, his face sporting an annoyed expression. He manages to multi-task, complaining and bouncing Fred on his knee.

 

“It wouldn’t have to be a problem if Mickey got off of his ass and got a job.” Ian shrugged, conveniently coming down the stairs just in time to hear them talking.

 

“Jesus christ, is that what this is about?” Lip’s eyebrows raise almost comically. “I would have thought you two fucked each other’s brains out by now.”

 

“Yeah, that's what I thought too.” Mickey says at Ian, rolling his eyes and scratching away the invisible itch on his nose.

 

“I’m sorry , but some of the working class people are too tired from heavy lifting to service your pillow princess ass.” Ian says while walking over to the fridge, exaggerating his voice with a light tipped smile.

 

Mickey feels a blush grow on his cheeks, his face completely red as he slaps Ian’s arm. “Fuck you”. He spits out, trying not to look at anyone else.

 

“Wait, Mickey’s the one that takes it?” Carl asks, looking between the two of them.

 

Debbie rolls her eyes and turns towards Carl. “Have you ever been upstairs while they fuck? It’s really not hard to tell”.

 

Franny, who has been absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of her shirt tugs on Debbie's arm. “What is uncle Mickey taking?” She whispers, looking at Mickey with wide eyes.

 

“Okay, that’s where this ends.” Mickey decides, making quick work of the stairs and shutting himself out from the rest of the family.

 

Mickey lands on the bed with a loud thud, scrubbing his hand over his face. Maybe he should just get a job at this rate, and not the usual hand job he’s been going for. If money’s the problem, Mickey can easily solve it. Ian’s the one being a bitch, always going on about the fact that they're “on parole” as if that means anything to Mickey.

 

Mickey reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand and pulls it off the charger. He types in the right hand password ‘3338822255’ and opens safari. He clicks on the search bar and types in “jobs available near me”, hitting the search button and hoping for the best. Mickey is already turned off by the first few results, many requiring a degree of some sort and 10+ years of experience, yeah right, Mickey rolls his eyes and keeps scrolling. Another shitty thing about COVID is the fact that everything except whatever is considered “essential” is closed. Mickey would rather deal with blue balls for the rest of his life than conform to being a tiny little cog in a giant machine like Ian is.

 

Getting a job seems impossible. Mickey sighs and taps on the search bar again, deciding to skip the middleman and get straight to the problem. “How to get your husband to fuck you.” Mickey looks through the links, skimming past the couples therapy pages that are published by a college dropout who thinks adding Dr. in front of their name makes them count as a reliable source. He completely skips past the paragraphs that talk about remembering that ‘you don’t need to provide your partner with sex for them to love you’. Mickey closes his eyes and pinches his temple, he’s not in a toxic relationship, he’s just desperate for a good dicking down. His eyes widen when he sees a website with lingerie, chuckling as he thinks of Ian's reaction to his ass framed in some nice red lacy panties, bookmarking that page for later.

 

His focus completely moves from that thought when he sees a link for a sex toy website. He glances at the accordian door, making sure it's still shut before curiously tapping on the link. His phone screen gets brought to a different website, his eyebrows raise to his hairline when he sees some of the items that this website sells. The stuff that can be bought here is the stuff that you only see in very specific pornos, chains, whips, 2 litre bottles of flavoured lube, even large tentacle dildos that he can only assume the person who made them has no concept of human anatomy. 

 

He continues scrolling through the webpage, call it morbid curiosity or genuine interest, he can’t peel his eyes away. He laughs at some of the items, the rainbow strap-on having a sort of comedic effect on him, as well as the assless pants, but his interest peaks at one. Just a regular suction cup dildo, taking notice of the flared base. He clicks on the item, being brought to a page with all the information and shopping details. 

 

He bites his lip and scrolls through the images, feeling surprised at how detailed the silicone imitation is down to every vein and ridge. His ass clenches just thinking of the enlarged tip sliding past his rim, fuck, its been a while since he’s felt that. His eyes get directed towards the different options he could order the toy, different inches and colours. He jumps and shoves his phone in his pocket when he hears the door to his room being opened. 

 

Ian walks in, giving Mickey a weird look as he pretends to be looking at the wall. Ian raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, just sighing and walking towards their dresser, throwing on some pants and a stainless shirt on. “Alright, I'm going to work now.” Ian says in a fake cheery yet passive aggressive voice.

 

Mickey just snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, have fun.” he waves, watching as Ian rolls his eyes and exits the room.

 

Mickey blows out a breath, adrenaline rushing through him at almost being caught. It’s not like Ian and Mickey aren’t kinky, the bondage bear and giant tub of Vaseline on their dresser proves that, but there’s something about buying a personal dildo that doesn’t make him want to tell Ian about it.

 

He reaches into his pocket and slowly pulls his phone out, the sex toy shop being the first page to load on his screen. He scrolls through the options, his eyebrows furrowing. Why would someone care what colour dildo they get? He shrugs and clicks orange for no particular reason. Scrolling through the sizes measured in inches, 6, 7, and 8 have been all sold out. No way was Mickey going lower than six, he doubts that he would even feel it that small. He goes to the next size available, 9.

 

His finger hovers over the place order button, is he really going to do this? Clearly Ian isn’t going to satisfy his needs and he can’t keep beating his cock until it’s raw. Yes, this is a necessary purchase, fuck you, Ian. He clicks his screen and the website asks for his name, address, and bank info. Thankfully his phone is linked with Ian’s bank account, surely he won’t notice the charge. Mickey secretly hopes Ian sees it eventually, he’d probably get off on it.

 

Mickey places the order, watching the small blue circle swirls as the site loads the purchase, he gnaws on his lip nervously as his eyes trace the shape. He lets out a breath of relief when it tells him that the purchase is approved and on its way. He clicks the “track order” button and finds that it's set to show up tomorrow. Mickey feels a rush of gidiness at the thought of finally having something decent up inside him. He feels an aching sensation in his groin and for once has no problem using his own hand and the thoughts of silicone orgasmic bliss to get himself to the finish line.

***

Now that Mickey has an end in sight to his cruel and unusual punishment, he’s been in an overall better mood. He finds it easier to ignore Ian’s complaints and passive aggressive behaviour as well as what their family has to say.

 

“It has to get boring just sitting on that couch all day, doesn’t it?” Ian says sarcastically, putting on his shoes.

 

“Nope.” Mickey says, exaggerating the P sound. “I’m glad you enjoy slaving away and breaking your back hauling boxes around, though.” Mickey snorts, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

 

Ian rolls his eyes and leaves the house, intentionally slamming the door behind himself.

 

Mickey honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about Ian’s antics right now. Ever since they stopped fucking, Ian thought that Mickey would cave in and get a job. He’s not gonna lie, there were times that he got so horny and blindsided that he almost made a resume. He just found some old dick pics Ian had sent him and jerked off to them, problem solved. Now that Ian releases Mickey isn’t going to give in they’ve been pissy with each other, not that sex is the most important part in their relationship even if it is a big portion, but the fact that Ian will not give up on the idea of Mickey getting a job.

 

What will an extra shitty paycheck do for them? It’s not like they have to pay the full house’s rent, they split it with the rest of the family that lives here. Mickey just doesn’t see the point in a shitty hourly wage for way more work than it’s worth. The only minorly convincing part of this whole ordeal is the fact that Ian won’t fuck him. He’s tried, really hard- literally. It’s like Ian somehow built up a wall around his libido and won’t let Mickey past. Mickey has no clue how Ian’s lasted this long, he could barely make it, and even then he felt the need to order a dildo. Speaking of which…

 

Mickey reaches into his pocket and types in his password, messing up some of the numbers due to how fast he’s trying to type them in. Eventually it unlocks and Mickey ignores every other app other than safari. He opens the app and is met with the first window being the “Thank you for your purchase” page. Ignoring all the theatrics the website gives him, clicks on the “Track order” button. He bites his lip, a grin turning up in the corners of his mouth when he sees it’s set to drive at any time soon.

 

When Mickey saw that it would be arriving today, he made sure that everyone had something to do, even if that involved telling Franny to ask Debbie to take her to the park. Sure, manipulating the adults by using their children by definition is bad, but what’s even worse is forcing someone else to find the sex toy Mickey’s secretly getting delivered to this house.

 

Mickey can feel his cock stirring in his boxers at the thought of this dildo being deep inside him, but he wills it away. From this moment forward there will be no pathetic handjobs hidden away in the bathroom, there will only be hard, satisfied, orgasms induced by something large and thick inserted inside him. Whether that be his husband or his new toy is up to Ian. 

 

Mickey turns on the tv and chews absentmindedly on one of his knuckles, trying to get entranced by whatever is playing in hopes this will make the wait time less insufferable.

***

Mickey’s foot thumps against the floor rapidly, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hand as his eyes stare straight through the tv. He’s almost positive he’s going to leave a hole in the floor with how impatient he’s getting waiting for that-

 

DING!

 

Mickey practically jumps off the couch when he hears the doorbell, praying to god that it’s his delivery and not just some gallagher coming back unexpectedly. He rarely gets moments like these all to himself here, and he’ll be damned if they interfere with this.

 

He peaks through the window and sees a man wearing a blue uniform and hat walking away from the door and towards a white van. If Mickey didn’t know what was being carried inside that van he would’ve assumed someone forgot to spray paint “free candy” on the side. He waits what seems like an eternity for the man to climb inside the vehicle and drive off- no one needs to know who ordered this or what they are going to do with it, even if the second is implied.

 

Once Mickey finally deems it safe enough, he opens the door just a crack, enough to slip the box through just in case there are any lingering eyes. Mickey shuts the door and grins as he looks at the package, knowing the value of what lies inside. He picks the box up, hauling it towards the kitchen. Mickey laughs at the irony of the situation as he grabs a knife. Positioning the kitchen knife where the tape seals the cardboard, he carefully cuts through. With much practice with knives, Mickey is quite skilled and can very easily get any package open.

 

He reaches out and spreads the wings of the box, taking off each layer of packaging until he gets to the prize inside, one nine inch, veiny, orange, suction cup dildo. He grabs it, his fingers gripping onto a familiar thickness as he lifts it from the box. Feeling it in his hand, it is pretty heavy and lengthy, fucking perfect. He sets the dildo down on the kitchen table and grabs the box. No way in hell was anyone ever going to find out about this, much less see the box that it came in and read the label.

 

Mickey carries the box outside in the backyard, stuffing it inside the recycling and burying it. No one needs to see that. Mickey walks face paced inside the house, hoping that no one decided now would be a good time to come back home. Walking through the door he feels relieved in the fact that the dildo still lies there in pristine condition. He grabs the object, his thumb running over every vein and ridge before he feels his own cock starting to grow hard. Alright, it's time.

 

Mickey practically runs up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and shuts the door behind himself, tossing the sacred item onto the bed. Mickey follows soon after, crawling on the bed and sitting up, reaching for the toy. He inspects the toy thoroughly, he’s never used something like this before. 

 

Sure, there were the ben wa beads he stole when he was younger, hiding those from his dad had been a fucking nightmare but jesus christ, the orgasms he had with that thing is worth the risk. Mickey chuckles at the memory of him springing those onto Ian, watching his expression as the wheels turned in his head, trying to process what they were used for. He can remember how Ian’s large hand cupped the beads, his large palm covering over it and- oh fuck. Mickey’s fucking throbbing.

 

Mickey wonders how Ian would react to this, he doesn’t even have a game plan for what he’s going to do with it afterwards, but that's an issue for later. Now that Mickey’s thinking, this dildo mimics Ian’s length and girth pretty accurately, and it's orange. What a coincidence.

 

Mickey twists his torso and reaches out, opening the drawer in the nightstand that seems to be going untouched these days. He grabs the bottle of lube that he and Ian use to frequent, seemingly wiping cobwebs off of it. Mickey tosses both objects to the side and slips his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down his thick pale thighs that were usually littered in possessive purple marks from Ian.

 

Popping the cap of the lube and squeezing some on his fingers, shifting his body weight to get on his hands and knees. The position may be awkward but it's what he has to work with. Mickey reaches behind himself and lightly pets at his rim, gasping and spreading his legs wider for more access. His two fingers swirl across his tight ring of muscle as it twitches from the cold and wet sensation. He continues to play with his hole, giving himself time to really enjoy this before his hole relaxes enough for him to stick his ring finger inside.

 

He grits his teeth as the first finger slides in, moaning softly when it slid into the final knuckle. He pulls his finger out slightly before pushing it back in, moaning softly as he feels his hole fluttering around the intrusion. Only when he feels his hole ready does he sneak in a second finger beside his first, teasing at his rim with it and applying enough pressure that it slips right in. Mickey groans, his free hand flexing and gripping the sheets below him, working overtime to keep himself up right.

 

Taking a deep breath he is able to move them back and forth, pumping the two digits inside of his clenching walls. One thing he’s grateful for is that he’s able to set the pace. Of course Mickey enjoys when Ian takes the lead but sometimes he knows what he needs and when he’s ready for more, no more impatient huffing. Mickey scissors his fingers and a soft moan escapes his lips, his hole clamping down on his exploring fingers.

 

If this thing is truly as big as Ian, he knows that he needs the extra prep, especially since he’s been out of practice for longer than usual. Mickey’s ring finger manages to sneak past his tight ring of muscle, gaining entry. Mickey groans as he pushes all three fingers inside of himself, his hole clenching around the intrusions. Mickey rocks his fingers in and out of himself, he’s not sure if it’s truly prep or if he’s just delaying the reality of the situation. Mickey’s fingers curl as he pokes and prods, trying to find that one spot inside of himself. He huffs frustratedly when his fingers are just short of reach, jabbing in a few times but coming up short.

 

Mickey lowers his head and takes a deep breath. If his fingers are too short he knows something else that isn't. He directs his attention towards the dildo laying beside him on the bed and biting his lip. Usually he would say “fuck that” and stubbornly try to reach his own orgasm but, in his haze of horniness that isn’t an option for him to consider. Mickey takes a deep breath and pulls his fingers out, grimacing when he feels his hole contract and try to close around the empty space. 

 

Mickey always hates feeling empty, always trying to convince Ian to stay inside of him for just a little longer when he knows they have to clean up. Ian has given in a few times- they have the stains to prove it, but it's only just delaying the inevitable. Mickey wipes his fingers off on the covers- he’ll wash that off later, and grabs the orange toy. He sits back on his heels and grabs the bottle of lube that was haphazardly tossed to the side. Popping the cap open with his thumb he drizzles a generous amount of lube onto the toy, letting go of the bottle in favour of spreading around the lubricant. 

 

His hand moves up and down the dildo, making sure lube covers every square inch so he knows that he can take it. His fingers caress the silicone, feeling each bump and ridge gliding across his hand. He gets lost in the sensation, up and down movements on the toy with a familiar shape, he may or may not be imagining a certain redhead attached to it. He swirls his thumb around the bulbous tip, licking his lips. He didn’t even notice he had started salivating as if he was going to suck the toy off. His cock gives a twitch at the thought and only then does he process how needy he is. Mickey needs this dick in him, now. 

 

He wipes off his hand on the sheets, not really giving a shit about the mess he’s making. He leans back forward, leaning his body weight on his non-dominant hand and using the free one to grip the base and guide it towards his hole. 

 

He shivers and moans softly when the tip brushes past his rim, making it clench up on instinct. He swallows thickly and aims the dildo towards his stretched opening. It takes a little bit of back and forth before it catches on his hole- the sensation reminding him of how Ian would always tease him just a bit before actually pushing inside. Mickey’s rim twitches slightly, opening up and welcoming the thick length. 

 

Mickey holds his breath and starts to apply more and more pressure until the tip slides past his twitching muscle. He gasps softly, his entrance clenching around the thick intrusion. The stretch makes him even more wanting, his cock hanging heavily between his legs knowing that there's more to come. He waits until he’s ready- which isn’t long, before starting to push the toy inside of himself inch by inch.

 

He gasps, his eyes rolling shut as more and more of the dildo fills him up. His walls constrict and squeeze the toy as it works its way up. Mickey pauses once it's halfway in, panting softly and allowing himself to get ready for the rest. Usually with Ian they get straight to work, but Mickey’s going to allow himself to wait. There’s no reason to rush right now. Once he feels he’s ready, he grabs a hold of the toy and pushes it all the way in, not stopping until it's completely buried inside his hole. He pants and groans softly, getting accustomed to being this full. He almost forgot how much he loved this feeling. His hole pulses around the toy, feeling every bump and ridge deep inside of himself sending pleasure signals across his entire body. 

 

His lip gets caught between his teeth when he pulls it out almost all the way before thrusting it back in, hard. “Oh fuck …” He lets out a high pitched moan that's definitely not a whimper. The thick toy being impossibly deep inside him makes his toes curl. He grips the base firmly and pumps it in again, letting out yet another moan.

 

He’s glad the house is cleared out today, people could probably hear him moaning like a whore from the basement. He thrusts the dildo in and out of his hole at an increased pace, whimpering every time the base meets his ass. He breathes heavily and his eyebrows knit together in pleasure, throwing his head back and releasing a guttural moan from his throat. This feels so fucking good, every nerve in his body is lighting up. 

 

“Oh god… Ian!” Slips from his lips, he’s too far gone to even get into that right now.

 

His arm works overtime pumping the dildo in and out, his tight hole quivering with the amount it’s stretched out. Having all this after being accustomed to just a few fingers and jacking off is like an entire new world. 

 

He cries out when suddenly the toy hits his prostate dead on, his hips bucking forward and unintentionally fucking himself back on the dildo. His arm trembles and gives out, unable to hold himself up, sending him chest first into the mattress. He keeps his legs spread and his back arched to have better access to his entrance.

 

He’s a moaning mess as his arm begins pumping again, the tip of the dildo grinding and nudging that exact bundle of nerves that makes his eyes cross. He’s chanting Ian’s name like a pornstar as his eyes clench shut, just focussing on the pleasure. He feels his cock twitch and his stomach tighten. Fuck, he’s close just a little more.

 

“Agh! Ian- oh shit, Ian plea- ”

 

“Holy shit , Mick.”

 

Mickey's eyes pop open, gasping when he sees Ian standing at the door, looking flushed with a sizable bulge in his pants.

 

“Fuck!” Mickey exclaims, quickly pulling the dildo out of himself and wincing at the empty feeling that it leaves behind. He rolls over and grabs the covers, pulling them over himself to try and cover up what Ian’s clearly already seen.

 

Ian licks his lips, eyeing Mickey hungerly. “Is this what you’re up to when I’m gone?”

 

Mickey’s face grows redder and he scowls, trying to cover his embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up.”

 

Ian doesn’t seem fazed though, just walking closer towards the bed. “So, what? Because I won’t fuck you, you decided to get a pretty much identical copy of my dick as a dildo? Nice colour by the way.”

 

Mickey bites his lip and averts his gaze. He’s caught, he knows he’s been caught and yet his cock still remains throbbing underneath the blanket.

 

Ian doesn’t wait for a reply, just leaning down just enough to tower over Mickey. “I didn’t say you could stop.” He whispers.

 

Mickey feels a shiver go down his spine at that, a moan bubbling in his throat that he has to fight to keep down. Mickey doesn’t want to give in, he’s already feeling humiliated enough and he’s not going to let Ian boss him around like some bitch. 

 

“I thought you weren’t going to fuck me until I got a real job?” Mickey settles instead of voicing what he’s thinking.

 

He doesn’t know if Ian’s generally interested in telling him, or if he’s just humouring Mickey, allowing him to stall a little longer. “I quit, or got fired. Depends on your perspective.” Ian shrugs.

 

“What?” Mickey asks, cocking his head to the side, his feelings about the situation simmering down upon this new information.

 

“Long story.” Ian is quick to reply, gripping the sheets that Mickey has pulled up to his chin and slowly removing them. “But probably not as long as…” Ian grabs the dildo, grinning like a maniac as he inspects the size and the lube that glistens in the light. “This.”

 

Mickey feels another wave of embarrassment hit him, but his dick clearly isn’t getting the message, it’s still as erect, if not more so than before Ian caught him orange handed.

 

Ian hands the toy back to Mickey. “Now, I think you were in the middle of something?” He says smugly.

 

Mickey grabs the toy from Ian, still feeling unsure about the situation. “Gallagher, I am not about to fuck myself with this in front of yo-”

 

Ian interrupts Mickey, though. His gaze goes from less heated and softer, more sincere. “Mickey, no one’s here, we haven’t fucked in days. Just let yourself have this.”

 

Mickey takes Ian’s words into consideration, and he’s actually right. There’s no one home and won't be for a long time. More importantly, there’s no one he has to hide from. There’s no one Mickey has to shield himself from, just Ian. They’ve fucked in many different positions, most varying on the level of compromisation with Mickey being the one taking it. It’s just him and Ian now, there’s no one left to judge them for what they choose to indulge in.

 

Mickey sighs and decides, fuck it. He’s already in way too deep to reverse what’s gone on. Mickey takes hold of the dildo and spreads his legs, aiming the tip at his hole and sliding it back in with ease, his entrance already stretched and welcoming from the previous experience with the toy. Mickey and Ian both have matching groans as it slides inside, Mickey’s lip getting caught between his teeth and Ian’s hand finding its way to the tent in his pants.

 

Mickey grips the base and resumes the motions like he was doing before, moans and whimpers climbing their way out of his mouth.

 

“Fuck, Mick. You’re so hot.” He hears Ian breathe from above him. 

 

Mickey keens at the praise, soaking it up and itching for more. His cock erect and straining against his stomach starts to leak precum at the tip. Mickey’s eyes roll back in pleasure, his leg twitching and he groans when the dildo finds his spot again.

 

Ian’s breath hitches, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, that feel good, baby?”

 

Mickey can only pant and nod, his hole clenching and releasing around the toy.

 

“Here, let me help.” 

 

And suddenly Mickey’s grip on the base of the toy has been loosened in favour of Ian’s large hand taking control, gently rocking it in and out of Mickey’s opening.

 

“Ah, fuck…!” Mickey moans, his back arching as Ian sets a fast pace.

 

“Jesus, Mickey… Taking all this like a champ.” Ian murmurs, squeezing and massaging at his own hardness confined inside his jeans with his free hand.

 

Mickey grips the sheets and moans, too far gone to consider what he looks like right now. He’s probably all dishevelled, his hair messy and his skin slick with a thin coating of sweat from his unexpected work out.

 

“Bet you wish this was my cock, huh? Filling you up and making you feel good.”

 

Mickey nods in agreement because…

 

Fuck yeah he does.

 

Mickey’s legs tense up as Ian starts to ram it in a little harder with each thrust.

 

“Mm…” Ian hums with a slight disapproval. “Wanna hear you say it.”

 

Mickey’s mouth drops open, although little air is actually getting breathed as his jaw hangs loose. Mickey doesn’t want to say it. Ian knows what Mickey wants and he can easily provide it.

 

“That's fine, I mean, if you don't want to tell me.” Ian shrugs, his voice feigning nonchalant. “I would be more than happy to fuck you with this silicone until you cum, maybe go jerk off in the bathroom.”

 

Mickey knows Ian wouldn’t. Hell, Ian probably couldn’t leave Mickey like this without sinking into his tight heat but it's the threat, the risk that of Ian just getting Mickey to a quick cheap orgasm then going for his own right after that Mickey doesn’t want to take.

 

“I-I want you…” Mickey whispers, his voice cracking with need when Ian thrusts the dildo in at a particular angle.

 

“What's that? You’re gonna need to speak up.” Mickey can hear the shit eating grin on his face, the one that knows he’s getting what he wants.

 

Now Ian’s just being an asshole, even if that is Mickey’s job. At this point, Mickey’s not afraid to grovel for what he wants, even if it means sacrificing a little bit of his pride.

 

Mickey grits his teeth, determined to get his sentence out in one piece. “I want y-you, your cock instead…” It comes out forced, trying to stifle any moans that would try and ruin his flow of speech.

 

“Fuck yeah, you do.” Ian groans, slipping the toy out of Mickey’s hole. 

 

Mickey winces at the feeling, his hole puckering up around the empty pace. Ian gives him an apologetic look and immediately gets to work on his belt buckle, removing the unnecessary barrier of cloth that stands between their bodies. His pants are shoved down with his boxers, his erect cock bouncing out proudly as he rips his shirt off and letting it fall to the ground, they have time for cleanup later.

 

Mickey reaches down to stroke his heavily neglected cock that weeps for attention against his stomach, spreading his legs eagerly for Ian when he climbs between them. Mickey lets his eyes wander across Ian’s abs, his biceps, his pecs, landing on his cock, oh fuck how he missed that cock.

 

Ian flips and lifts the covers, finding the lube that had been thrown aside. Ian opens the cap and squeezes a decent sized glob in his hand, applying it thoroughly to his own length. Mickey watches Ian’s hand glide over his thick erection, his eyes locked to the scene in front of him, practically drooling. He only gets snapped out of his trance when he feels Ian’s fingers playing with his rim.

 

“You really stretched yourself out, huh?” Ian grins, sliding two of his fingers inside Mickey’s waiting hole, wiggling them around.

 

Mickey moans, his hole clamping down on ins fingers like a lifeline. “C-c’mon… stop fucking teasing…”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ian licks his lips, pulling his fingers out and leaving Mickey’s hole wide yet again.

 

Ian doesn’t let that stay for long though, grabbing Mickey’s legs and throwing them over his shoulders, manhandling Mickey into a new, easily accessible position. Mickey watches Ian’s face as he guides his tip towards Mickey’s rim. Mickey’s eyes flutter shut when he feels Ian’s tip slip inside of his entrance. Mickey feels a hand on his chin, tilting his face upwards. He opens his eyes to be met with Ian staring intensely at him.

 

“Keep your eyes open, wanna see you.” He whispers, moving his hands down to Mickey’s hips.

 

Mickey nods, taking a quivering deep breath in preparation. Ian pushes his hips forward, feeling his cock being enveloped by Mickey’s warm inviting heat. They both have matching groans as Ian sinks inside of Mickey, the sensation of being connected once again feeling heightened after all the time they spent apart.

 

Mickey’s eyes struggle to stay open the further Ian gets inside him, even with being formally prepped from his fingers and the dildo, it still ends up being a tight fit. Ian’s hips meet Mickey’s ass, his cock fully sunken into the other man. They both pant as they wait a second to get used to the sensation, Ian using the time to admire Mickey’s already fucked out expression.

 

Mickey gives a small nod of confirmation, letting Ian know that he wants him to keep going. Ian bites his bottom lip and pulls back just to rock forwards again. Mickey knows Ian’s setting a rhythm as per usual, but he can’t take being teased like this anymore. 

 

“Faster. C’mon, fuck…” Mickey orders- or at least tries to. The way it came out sounds more like pleading.

 

Ian understands, wanting to pound Mickey into the mattress for the past several days. He grips Mickey’s hips harder, pulling out almost completely with just the tip inside before thrusting forward, the sound of their hips connecting loudly fills the room. Mickey can’t help the loud moan that escapes him, Ian’s cock practically pushing the air out of him from the inside. The next thrust Ian doesn’t wait, immediately ramming forward again.

 

The sounds of obscene skin on skin as well as explicit grunts and moans fill the room, most likely seeping into the hallway too. Mickey struggles to keep his eyes open with the excessive pleasure being provided to him, it’s even harder to keep eye contact with Ian.

 

When Mickey was younger, he always insisted that he and Ian fuck away from each other, figuring that having any sort of actual contact would be too “gay”- or what would be the proper word, committal. Mickey was afraid that if he and Ian did missionary, or any soft activity that he’d later come to love would mean that he actually would have to face the feelings he had for Ian rather than just ignoring them and continuing to partake in “meaningless” hookups. Mickey’s still unlearning some of the harmful behaviour from his childhood, Ian’s right there to help him.

 

Piercing green eyes stare into glazed over blues, feeling connected in more ways than one. Mickey’s eyebrows knit together in pleasure, his hands gripping the pillow his head is currently resting on to try and ground himself.

 

“Shit, Mick.” Ian grunts, fighting the urge to throw his head back in favour of the view below him. “So fucking perfect…”

 

Mickey’s heart swells at the praise, his neglected cock giving a twitch of interest as well. Mickey opens his mouth to say something, but Ian’s cock decides that now is the perfect time to brush over his prostate, an embarrassing squeal leaving Mickey’s mouth instead.

 

Ian doesn’t seem to mind though, his pupils dilated and his demeanour changing to more lustful than anything. He pulls back agonisingly slowly, making sure to aim in the same direction and bucking forward.

 

“Oh fu- uck! ” Mickey practically screams, his eyes going out of focus as Ian’s tip stays right up against that spot inside him.

 

“Fuck… That’s it, Mick.” Ian groans, feeling Mickey’s heat clench around his throbbing shaft.

 

Ian takes little recovery time, quickly proceeding to jackhammer himself in and out of Mickey. They move in sync, bodies melding together in their intimate dance. With all the pent up sexual frustration for the past few days they can feel each other growing closer to the edge with each passing second.

 

Ian’s cock buried deep inside Mickey, thrust, thrust, thrust. 

 

Mickey’s hole clenching around Ian’s shaft, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

 

Mickey’s legs tremble on Ian’s shoulders as his thrusts start to get erratic, hips bucking and thighs shaking.

 

Mickey’s knuckles go white with how hard he’s gripping that pillow, his mouth open and agape, unable to hide how much pleasure he’s feeling.

 

Ian grunts every time his hips meet Mickey’s ass, his hips thrusting sporadically, losing his rhythm as they both get closer to the edge, not that either of them mind. Both Ian and Mickey are too far gone to care at this point.

 

“I-Ian- oh god … M’close!” Mickey chokes out, his words forced out of gritted teeth.

 

It's so good, the sounds Ian’s making, the back and forth in and out, sweat slicked skin slapping together, he can barely hang on.

 

Clearly, Ian’s on the same boat. “Me too” Ian grunts, a bead of salty sweat running down his forehead. “You gonna cum, Mick? You g-gonna cum with me?”

 

Mickey is almost embarrassed with how fast he nods in response to Ian’s babbling, he’s so close, he just needs a little more to tip right off the edge-

 

Oh.

 

Oh fuck.

 

Ian’s hands on him- on his cock. Smearing the precum, spreading it, using to stroke Mickey’s throbbing dick. Ian’s hand is wrapped around his cock and he’s stroking it in time with his thrusts. 

 

Mickey’s head lolls forward, his eyebrows raising high as they gaze into each other's eyes. Rings of forest green and ocean blue surround the dilated pupils of shared lust.

 

“C-cumming…!” Is all Mickey can offer before he’s exploding. His eyes fight to stay open as he sees stars, eyelids half lidded.

 

Mickey’s body tenses up, goosebumps rise on his body and he’s trembling. All he can focus on his the thick cock inside him relentlessly pumping in and out, offering no mercy and continuing to fuck him through his orgasm. Mickey doesn’t want mercy, he thinks he would die if Ian were to suddenly pull out right now.

 

Wave after wave washes over him as his cock spurts and throbs, his hole pulsing and milking Ian’s shaft while he climaxes. Mickey feels the shift in rhythm, Ian’s hips twitching only to then meet his ass, burying deep inside Mickey’s warm opening and cumming himself.

 

Mickey takes a deep breath in, his voice quivering and his body relaxing. He sinks fully into the mattress, slowly gaining the control of his muscles. He’s off in another world, peacefully enjoying the void of nothingness behind his eyelids. 

 

He feels hands on his thighs, stroking up and down, Ian slowly sliding out, his hole clenching hungrily at the absence of something to fill it. The empty feeling is uncomfortable, he makes a noise of disapproval which Ian quickly shushes, his voice nice and soothing. There are hands on his legs slowly lowering them down, Mickey thinks, his legs don’t work anymore.

 

There’s a dip in the bed beside him, a hand on his cheek stroking up and down.

 

“ Are you in there, Mick? ”

 

Yeah, he’s in here. It’s so nice in here.

 

“ Come on… come back to me… ”

 

He feels Ian’s hot breath on his ear, tickling his neck. Mickey’s eyes flutter open, a wide grin uncontrollably growing on his face.

 

“There he is…” Ian says, gently caressing Mickey’s face.

 

Mickey turns his head to look at Ian, his eyes crinkling up in the corners. Usually he tries not to smile so hard but right now, he can’t help it. He’s just had the best lay of his life and he’s pretty content, so fuck him if he wants to smile.

 

Ian doesn’t mind, he never does. A matching lazy grin underneath drooping eyelids.

 

But of course, since he’s Mickey, he’s gotta say something. “Do I still need to get a job?”

 

Ian rolls his eyes and chuckles, taking a moment before speaking. “Well, probably. Now that I don’t have a job, we have no money coming in.” He says with a slightly serious tone.

 

“How didja’ even get fired or quit- whatever-the-fuck, anyways?” Mickey asks, whether it's genuine curiosity or just to get the attention off of him is a mystery.

 

Ian clicks his teeth. “It's a long story.” He deflects again, not keen on telling Mickey about the way he exploded on his boss.

 

Ian turns his head, a laugh bubbling up in his throat as he picks up the discarded dildo. “How did you get… This?” He teases, aiming the tip at Mickey.

 

Mickey’s face flushes a bright shade of red, clearly embarrassed. “Would you stop waving that fuckin’ thing around?” Mickey mutters, snatching the toy from Ian’s hand and placing it on the nightstand.

 

Ian thinks it’s hilarious laughing as Mickey turns as red as a tomato.

 

“It’s a long story.” Mickey huffs, annoyed with Ian’s antics.

 

“Does this mean we can stop fighting now?” Ian asks, changing the subject.

 

“I hope so.” Mickey grumbles. “I don’t think I can take anymore of your bitching.” He snorts.

 

“Yeah, agreed.” Ian jokes, nudging Mickey’s shoulder. “Although we might have to start dipping into the wedding present money.”

Notes:

I have been waiting to post this one for so long omg. This is one of my favourite works and it was so funny to make.

I hope you guys enjoyed because I definitely did. 😭