Gallavich Fluff & Smut

The Things You Do to Me

Author: kristantinople
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Summary:

Mayonnaise?!

AKA I rewrote the scene from 10×02 to how it should have played out. My boys are back and I am so happy I fired up my old fandom blog to wax poetic over Mickey Milkovich.
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A cough coming from the cell next door wakes Ian up that morning. He tried to cling on to the last remaining bits of his dream-- tight, warm heat and strong thighs above him, riding him into his soft Chicago bed.

Ian groans as the memory fades away, and wakes back up to the reality in front of him; He had eighteen months left on his prison sentence for arson, to be served at Menard Correctional Institution in southern Illinois.

Right alongside his cellmate, Mickey Milkovich.

His hand naturally wanders to his own dick, at full stiffness and tenting his underwear. He gives it a slow tug and pleasure radiates from low in his belly. Down below, Mickey murmurs softly in his sleep as he shuffles and rolls over to face the wall.

Ian swings a leg over the end of his bunk.

He drops down almost silently, glances a look out the glass window of their cell and sees nothing, then crawls into bed with Mickey.

Mickey could only manage a soft hmm when his bed dipped at the weight of Ian coming up beside him. Ian saw him begin to rouse, so he quietly wrapped his arms around him and snuggled into Mickey's form. He pressed a gentle wet kiss to the back of Mickey's neck.

This was no doubt Mickey's favorite way to wake up, especially given his current circumstance. Every morning since their reunion, before the morning alarm buzzed loudly through the cells and all the lights came on to start the day, Ian would crawl into bed with Mickey and make love to him inside the quiet confines of his bottom bunk. It was their only alleviation from the harsh reality of prison, and they were finally fighting the world together instead of apart.

He smiled into the pillow under his cheek when he feels Ian's erection press into the small of his back.

"Shh..." Ian whispered, peppering soft kisses in between his perfect shoulder blades.

His dry lips sent shivers that turned into goosebumps down Mickey's back. Ian's hands couldn't help but skim down Mickey's sides and stomach, admiring his sleep-heavy boyfriend in the dim glow of the hallway lights outside. He pulled in close, snaked his hands down Mickey's belly, feeling his muscles contracting under his prison-issue singlet.

Mickey reaches up to run his fingers through Ian's short hair, recently cut and finally free of oppressive black dye. Mickey liked it so much more when Ian was sporting his natural color. It reminded him of fire, a perfect compliment to his boyfriend's hot temper and fiery passion for the things he surrounded himself with in life.

Ian scooted closer until his cock was pressed flush against Mickey's backside. If given a choice, Ian could spend all day spooned up with Mickey to play with his ass; He had dreams of teasing Mickey for hours like they did that last year together, so long ago now. He'd start first with his fingers, than his tongue, teasing before finally pressing into Mickey while they rolled through waves of pleasure together. They didn't have time for that right now, though, and Mickey had a plan for what to do with their short allotment of time. His firm grab for Ian's thigh spurred the redhead to press on.

Even though they were now united, physically so close after not knowing if either one would ever see the other again, prison was dangerous, and they had to be more careful now than ever before. Prison was not the place to make loud and passionate love. As much as he missed the way Mickey threw his head back whenever Ian fucked him just right, found that perfect spot inside of him that touched his fucking soul, moaning expletives wrapped around Ian's name on his tongue, they couldn't risk it. It wasn't safe to let others in their cell block know just how much Mickey liked to take it.