Every fuckin— [ mickey's voice hitches when ian slips a couple wet fingers inside him, back arching and hips rolling against his hand, groan lost somewhere low in his throat as he breathes out the last word: ] day.
[ ian doesn't need to tell him twice, and it only takes the first nudge before mickey's turning onto his stomach, fingers curling in the comforter on top of his mattress, hips canting up for ease of use. his cheek presses against the blanket, lips curling in a wide smile as he feels ian kissing along the back of his neck, shivers and sweet shocks dancing up his spine. ]
Or I could show you. Later. Tomorrow, maybe.
[ today, he is busy. busy pushing back against the weight of ian's hips, feeling his cock slot between his cheeks and grinding back against him. ]
[Jesus there's nothing in the world quite like knowing how bad Mickey Milkovich wants him, needs him, as he pushes back against him. Ian's drunk with it, rubbing his dick against Mickey's ass and kissing at the back of his neck, sucking with teeth as he finally pushes in. No unnecessary lead up as he groans thick and low. They'd never been ones to ease in, after all. Ian grins against Mickey's neck - he needs him exactly as bad.]
You're so fucking tight... you sure you've been thinking about me every day?
[ his fingers curl into tight fists as ian pushes in, and mickey's biting down into his lower lip as he feels his boyfriend's cock spread his body, the familiar sting of pain that he loves there, a tint deeper with the time he's been without him. a moan goes muffled into the comforter while he feels ian's voice rumble low in his chest, against his back. ]
I know it might be a shock— [ a shift of ian's hips and mickey's breathing hitches, sharp inhale interrupting him as his body shudders around ian. god, he's missed this. a month is too fucking long. ] But my fingers are a little smaller than your dick.
[ especially considering ian has the most incredible cock mickey's ever seen, but maybe he's a bit biased. ]
[Ian's laugh comes out more as low rumble as he moves into Mickey, pushing deep and slow before reaching his arm around to take a hold of his dick. He's high on the feeling of Mickey pressing back into him, the feeling of his body reacting to the intrusion, how rock hard he is in his hand. He strokes a few times as he drives into him, wanting to drive Mickey crazy with the stimulation.]
[ 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. ]
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[ ian doesn't need to tell him twice, and it only takes the first nudge before mickey's turning onto his stomach, fingers curling in the comforter on top of his mattress, hips canting up for ease of use. his cheek presses against the blanket, lips curling in a wide smile as he feels ian kissing along the back of his neck, shivers and sweet shocks dancing up his spine. ]
Or I could show you. Later. Tomorrow, maybe.
[ today, he is busy. busy pushing back against the weight of ian's hips, feeling his cock slot between his cheeks and grinding back against him. ]
no subject
You're so fucking tight... you sure you've been thinking about me every day?
no subject
I know it might be a shock— [ a shift of ian's hips and mickey's breathing hitches, sharp inhale interrupting him as his body shudders around ian. god, he's missed this. a month is too fucking long. ] But my fingers are a little smaller than your dick.
[ especially considering ian has the most incredible cock mickey's ever seen, but maybe he's a bit biased. ]
no subject
Then it's time to try more fingers.
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. ]