Warnings: gayness, foul language
Author: Lily Zen
Notes: Comment_fic prompt “the first time Mickey let Ian kiss him.”
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The first time Mickey let Ian kiss him they weren’t fucking or touching or doing anything remotely sexual in nature. He was at home, and Ian was hanging out with his sister in the living room, and…well…
Okay, so it’s like this: he’d been thinking about it a lot lately. What it would be like if those lips he saw stretched around his cock touched his mouth. What it would feel like. Sometimes it came to him in his sleep, and he woke up hard and randy just from dreaming about a stupid fucking kiss, and had to fuck his own fist to the memory of the dream so that he could go back to sleep.
The ‘what if’ of it was eating him up, consuming his thoughts. He was off his game, and people were starting to notice, or at least he feared they were.
So his little sister ran into her room for something for a second, leaving Ian alone in the living room.
Mickey, bare-chested and in sweat pants, leaned in the door jamb of his room, looking out into the front room at his carrot-topped fuck friend. His dark hair was messy and he still looked half asleep, but he didn’t give a fuck. “Hey,” he barked, “Get over here.”
And Ian looked up over his shoulder. A little smile appeared on his face, the slightly smug one he got whenever he knew they were about to have some fun. He got up and walked over, and Mickey tugged him in the room, backing him up against the wall.
“Your sister’s coming back any minute,” Ian said, “There’s not much time.”
“Shut up,” Mickey growled, “Put your lips on me.”
A little frown appeared on Ian’s face as he grew confused. “Where?” he asked.
His confusion was understandable—they had rules, after all—but not what Mickey wanted in that moment. He wanted… “On mine, moron.”
The look on Ian’s face shifted from confusion to surprise, and then something like happiness…like the way it looked whenever they finished getting off. “Okay,” Ian said.
“Just this once,” Mickey clarified.
“Yeah, okay,” Ian agreed, but it sounded more to Mickey like there was some sarcasm lurking under his easy surrender.
His hands framed Mickey’s face. There was a breath as Ian paused, and Mickey refrained from thinking about anything corny like savoring the moment, then Ian’s mouth touched his. “I’ve had better kisses from my grandma,” Mickey growled as Ian pulled back. A flicker of humor passed through Ian’s eyes.
The next kiss wasn’t chaste or innocent. It was lips, tongues, and teeth all dueling for dominance. It was fucking with their mouths, penetrating each other without their pricks. It was more intimate than they’d ever been, and they had seen, touched, tasted much more private places on each other than this one. It was…
Mickey groaned, and let his jaw relax, surrendering to Ian’s whim…
And Ian took him, touched him in a place that he hadn’t known existed, owned him.
Footsteps clattered from the other end of the house, and Mickey pushed himself away, suddenly remembering where they were, what was happening, who he was.
Ian panted lightly and licked his lips, then he smiled, secretive and smug.
Mickey’s dick was stiff, his balls tight. Need pulsed through him.
“Ian?” his sister called.
‘Later,’ Ian mouthed at him and slipped out the door.
“Fuck,” Mickey groaned and dropped onto his bed in the corner of the room, “fuck.” Something had changed. He wasn’t sure what yet, but something had definitely just changed.