GALLAVICH EVERYTHING

Just Friends

Source: Archive of our Own

Blog: LoosenYourCorset

Word Count: 1200

SMUT!! YAYYYY

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So, okay, this wasn't exactly where Mickey had planned on ending up tonight. Actually he'd planned to veg out in front of the television in his home, getting drunk on probably-expired beers and snacking on popcorn. That's how his Fridays had gone lately and he had no problem with that.

But then there was Ian Gallagher, ready and willing to pull him away from his normal schedule for a fuck whenever he damn well felt like it. As of late, Ian hadn't really felt like it. And since Mickey wasn't one to pry into peoples' heads if it wasn't absolutely necessary (and for him it was never necessary, even when it was), he hadn't bothered to see if anything was wrong with his...friend. Yeah, it was safe to call him that. It was even safe to call him that in public, not that he ever would.

Anyway, this Friday night had started out like any other: Mickey had plopped down onto the couch with a case of cold beers and some popcorn, turned the TV on to some inane reality show that he had no real interest in, and rested his legs on the far end of the couch for some added comfortability. He knew that within at least 3 hours, he'd be snoring and probably drooling a little out of the side of his mouth. He knew that until Ian called.

Ian didn't usually call Mickey. He usually just showed up at his home, normally uninvited and alone, for a little roll in the hay before leaving again. But sometimes, if he was feeling particularly bratty, he'd make Mickey come to him. And Mickey loved those times when Ian got all bitchy but still managed to show some type of manliness that stirred something deep within him.

Tonight was one of those nights, and Mickey was too bored to pass up the offer "Yo, Mickey. I'm semi-drunk and fully hard and you should bring your ass over," which is exactly what he did.

That's how he ended up naked and rolling his hips on Ian's lap, a position they didn't usually do it in. He almost always preferred that he didn't have to look at his "friend" when they had sex; too many feelings and too many chances for accidental eye contact. But Ian was too drunk to act courteous and had insisted that Mickey do what he told him to. Mickey, of course, caved in...

Mickey's hands snaked around Ian's neck and he latched his arms together, giving himself even more support so that Ian wouldn't have to hold all of his weight. They were sitting on the sofa in Ian's living room and even though Mickey was starting to feel the burn of sitting with his legs spread on his knees he wasn't about to get up, not when Ian was giving him verbal encouragement to keep riding him like he was.

"Fuck, Mickey, you do this so well and...goddamn, don't stop," Ian breathlessly managed to groan out. Mickey was pretty proud of himself, actually, considering he'd never ridden anyone before and he was doing such a good job, at least according to the guy under him. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, still moving his hips but letting Ian thrust into him irregularly. He bit his lip in an attempt not to moan but it was no use, the first one came from deep within his throat and it exited through his lips quickly. Moaning came easy to him after that.

One of Ian's hands found Mickey's cock, which was hardening up against Ian's stomach, and grabbed the base of it. Ian tugged upward gently and Mickey nearly lost it at that alone, but he kept himself under control for the time being. Another tug had Mickey moaning even louder and Ian mirrored the moans with his own, licking his lips and letting his other hand rub up and down the soft skin of Mickey's thigh. It was sensitive there although Mickey said it wasn't, and Ian knew that. So he of course took every chance he had to take advantage of it.

On one of Ian's up-thrusts, he hit a spot inside of Mickey that made the darker haired boy give a sharp gasp. Ian decided to do it again a few more times and every time he did, Mickey nearly forgot how to breathe. He held onto Ian a little tighter, pulling on Ian's heartstrings a little as he felt him do so. He could tell he was finally beginning to sober up a bit, albeit slowly.

However, Mickey wasn't paying any attention to Ian's face as he had his own buried in his neck. He was biting the skin there, not kissing, just biting, and leaving little marks that would probably still be noticeable the next day. It was Mickey's way of marking his territory. But, of course, Ian wasn't his territory...they were just friends.

Mickey was nearly ready to finish, ready to come and sit there for a minute before cleaning up and going home per routine, but he needed something. An extra push. His whole body was tingling, on fire, and that feeling only kept multiplying. Ian decided to make it worse, or better depending on how you looked at it, by nibbling on one of Mickey's earlobes. It started off gentle but the more he did it, the rougher it got. After about half a minute he was already sucking on it, helping Mickey to discover his newest kink.

It only took a minute or two of Ian doing that for Mickey to finally come, erratically riding the redhead even faster. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying any fucking thing, because that never turned out well for him. And Ian, well, Ian just kept thrusting as Mickey clenched around him, groaning loudly before pushing up and into him one last time as he spilled his own come into the other's body.

The two of them panted, breathing heavily and sitting quietly in each other's company for as long as they both dared. After what seemed like a good amount of time, Mickey slid off of Ian's lap and pulled on his underwear. He swallowed thickly and stayed quiet as he got dressed, watching Ian as he stood up to do the same thing.

"This was fun and all but I've missed at least two episodes of some dumbass show, so, I've gotta go," Mickey said, using the only excuse he had. Technically it wasn't a lie.

Ian just nodded and yawned tiredly, expecting nothing different. "Yeah, okay. See you when I see you?" he asked only somewhat rhetorically, and Mickey nodded before heading for the door.

He made it a point to realize that if he got Ian drunk enough, they could probably try out loads of positions.

Mickey'd never mention it to Ian, or anyone else, and he probably wouldn't even admit it to himself, but he thought about his friend Ian all the way home. And he thought about him as he climbed into bed. And, more than likely, he'd be thinking about him when he woke up, too.