[ he loves feeling ian around him like that, his weight pressing him into the mattress, his arms on either side framing him in, his lips against the back of his neck. this is heaven for mickey, and when ian takes his cock in hand and starts to stroke, the rock of his hips pushing him into the rhythm of it, mickey's seeing stars behind his eyelids, lips parting with a low groan. ]
It's time for you to shut up about my fingers and fuck me. [ because he can't keep track of actual conversation right now anyway, just the steady pulse of ian's dick moving deep inside him. ] Christ, Ian, I missed you.
[ mickey reaches a hand up, gripping onto whatever he can find - ian's arm, his bicep, a shoulder, hell, he'll curl his fingers into his hair if he's ducked down low enough - and his thigh spread, knees bracing against the mattress until he has enough leverage to push back and meet each thrust into him. ]
no subject
It's time for you to shut up about my fingers and fuck me. [ because he can't keep track of actual conversation right now anyway, just the steady pulse of ian's dick moving deep inside him. ] Christ, Ian, I missed you.
[ mickey reaches a hand up, gripping onto whatever he can find - ian's arm, his bicep, a shoulder, hell, he'll curl his fingers into his hair if he's ducked down low enough - and his thigh spread, knees bracing against the mattress until he has enough leverage to push back and meet each thrust into him. ]