"For fuck's sake!" Ian loosens his grip on Mickey's hips as Mickey hisses through his teeth yet again. He pulls out carefully, trying to avoid the dressings on Mickey's ass.
Mickey eyes unscrew and he sits up, resting on his elbows, but leaning heavily to the right. "What? Why'd you stop?"
"Can't you top just this once?" Ian sighs.
"I ain't your bitch though, now am I?" Mickey replies, although he winces as his left ass cheek comes into contact with the couch for a brief moment.
"Yeah, but right now, all I'm seeing is your 'Fuck, this hurts like a bastard' face and it's really not doing it for me." Ian bites back, pulling the wasted condom off with a snap and discarding it on the floor amongst all the other Milkovich household debris.
Unable to get comfortable, Mickey finally gets up off the couch. "Fuck you, Firecrotch. I got shot in the ass doing a job for you and your boyfriend. Be more fucking grateful, why don't you?"
As Mickey reaches to light a cigarette, Ian quietly says, "He's not my boyfriend."
Mickey takes a long drag." You let him kiss you, don't you?" he points out, smoke billowing out as he speaks.
"Oh! So if he kisses me, he's my boyfriend?" Ian questions. "What does that make you now then?"
Mickey's tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth, then he wipes the spit away with his thumb, but he doesn't say anything.
Ian continues, "And actually, no. I don't."
Mickey turns to face him, "You don't what?"
"I don't let him kiss me," Ian replies, moving over to the table, taking a cigarette from the pack and lighting it. Mickey doesn't hear him add, "I was waiting for you."
Mickey chews his lip thoughtfully for a moment. "I thought you said he wasn't afraid to kiss you?" He says, placing heavy, sarcastic emphasis on "wasn't afraid". All that's missing is a pair of air quotes.
Ian smirks. "Yeah. So? That doesn't mean he gets to."
"Yeah. Well," Mickey dead-pans back.
"Well what?" Ian frowns.
"I ain't afraid either am I?"
Ian lets out a teasing laugh. "Come on. I practically dared you. That's not exactly the same."
"I still did it, didn't I?" Mickey shoves Ian's arm.
Ian shrugs and starts back towards the couch. "If you wanna call that a kiss."
"Don't give me that shit, "Mickey points at Ian with his cigarette. "I did it. And Iggy and Timmy were there."
Ian barks out a laugh. "It's not like they were witnesses, Mick. And that was three days ago and you haven't 'done it' again since." Ian does use air quotes, to make a point of the fact that Mickey hasn't referred to what he did as a kiss.
Mickey swaggers over to where Ian is now sitting, as much as a naked man with a gunshot wound in the ass can swagger. It makes him feel a little ridiculous, and he raises his eyebrows at Ian, daring him to laugh, which he doesn't. It's not very often that Mickey actually gets to tower over his lover though, so he makes the most of it.
He takes a long drag from his cigarette, blows the smoke out in a steady stream past Ian's head. "What is it you want from me, Gallagher?"
Ian looks up and meets Mickey's gaze. "I want you to kiss me properly. Not because you think you have to, or because you're jealous that someone else is doing it, but because you want to."
"Not jealous of that diaper-wearing fuck anyway." Mickey says, but he straddles Ian anyway and pushes him back against the couch.
Ian isn't sure if Mickey will instigate this without a bit more of a push, so for good measure he adds, "Come on Mickey. Don't be such a pussy."
It works because Mickey's eyes go dark then, his pupils blown wide - part anger and part lust - as he thrusts their mouths together.
It's awkward at first, as if Mickey is trying to force it. Like the kiss in the van, but more open-mouthed and this time Mickey's tongue has actually made it into Ian's mouth but it's not really doing anything substantial.
Ian's hands come to rest on Mickey's waist making him instantly relax. Ian tilts his head and instinctively strokes Mickey's tongue with his own.
Mickey lets out some kind of whine/moan into Ian's mouth and pushes harder against him.
The kiss becomes less frantic and more confident, though no less insistent and the fact that both boys are still naked suddenly becomes blatantly obvious again.
Mickey rolls his hips as he licks the inside of Ian's upper lip, grabbing his hips and literally dragging him down onto his back on the couch.
He pulls away, biting Ian's lower lip as he breaks the kiss. Ian is breathing hard and his eyes are practically glazed over under the heavy lids.
"That's basically the plan, yeah," Mickey all but growls, moving his hand down between them to stroke his cock, "And don't fucking accuse me of being afraid again, Firecrotch."