Mickey collapsed on the bed, panting. It felt like his entire body was smeared with lube and come and he knew he was about to get real uncomfortable, but was too winded to do anything about it. Am I getting old?
Out of nowhere, Ian started laughing. Mickey watched him giggle for a second, then halfheartedly punched him in the shoulder.
“Nice, laughing after your husband just fucked you for the first time.”
“No, sorry,” Ian grinned and rolled over to face Mickey. “It’s just… did you really demand I call you Nick Jonas in bed?”
Mickey tried to keep a straight face but cracked a moment after his husband started laughing again.
“Fuck you, you’re the one who gave me a complex,” he tried to grumble, but his grin ruined it. Ian made sex so much fucking… fun. Mickey never knew you could laugh and be silly and feel sexy at the same time.
“Well, for the record, you’re much hotter than any of the Jonas brothers,” Ian said, planting a lazy, sloppy kiss on Mickey’s cheek.
They were silent for a while, letting their racing hearts slow down a bit. Mickey had just leaned over the side of the bed to fish his cigarettes out of his sweatpants when Ian spoke again.
“So… is this going to be a thing now?”
Mickey stuck a cigarette in his mouth and turned to look at him.
“Are you going to want to top now?” Ian actually looked nervous, it was kind of cute.
“Nah man.” Cigarette lit, Mickey sat back against the wall. “I mean, once in a while, sure. Scratch an itch. But it’s never gonna be what I prefer. Like I told you, topping’s for prison.”
Ian laughed. “You never topped me in prison.”
“Yeah, well, you never tried to make me your bitch.”
Mickey regretted saying it immediately. The mood sobered, and Ian looked away from Mickey and up at the ceiling. Shit, why did I have to bring that up again? Mickey took a drag of his cigarette before deciding, fuck it. He couldn't keep holding on to his fucking pride forever.
“I’m sorry I said I wanted to make you my bitch. I thought it was just more of the dirty talk, and got inspired by some truly bad porn. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”
Ian raised himself up on one elbow and used the other hand to steal Mickey’s cigarette.
“I know. I’m sorry, too. About the things I said and head-butting you.” He took a drag and handed it back to Mickey, then fell back onto the bed with a groan. “I’ve never felt so stupid in my life as when Vee laid into us.”
“You know I don’t think liking to bottom makes you less of a man, right?” Ian looked up at Mickey. Mickey nodded and stroked Ian’s hair absentmindedly. He did, really. He just felt rejected and did what he always did: lashed out. Just like he did when Ian got mad about the wedding money and the joblessness. Christ, I'm a dick sometimes. He took another drag of his cigarette.
"Do you… do you really not like it?”
“Oh.” Ian swallowed. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t like it as much. It’s never going to be something I initiate. But I’ll do it, happily, if you want me to. If you need to scratch a topping itch, I’m all for it. I’m just not gonna feel the need to scratch any bottoming itch.” He smiled at his husband.
Mickey chewed on his bottom lip. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I know.” Ian squeezed Mickey’s thigh. “I trust you.”
“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t think it feels bad, I just don’t think it feels as good as you so obviously do.” He grinned. “Seeing the look on your face when I enter you, feeling your thighs shake when it feels so good you can’t even handle it, hearing you moan every time I hit that spot inside you… There’s nothing in the world better than that.”
Mickey swallowed hard and put out the cigarette on the ash tray next to the bed. Ian sat up and started trailing kisses down Mickey’s throat.
“Feeling you clench around me, holding you down and making you take it…” Ian closed his mouth around Mickey’s nipple and Mickey automatically grabbed his hair. Ian sucked on the little nub and Mickey was rapidly getting hard again.
“Closing my hand around your throat and feeling you gasp for breath right as you’re about to come on my cock…” Ian took Mickey’s growing erection in his hand and stroked it once, and that was it.
Mickey scooched down and pulled Ian on top of him. “Fuck me,” he demanded breathlessly.
Ian grinned down at him. “Yeah? You sure you don’t want me to roll over for you?”
“Shut up and get to work, daddy.”