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To Win You More Than Just A Friend

Summary:

Micky's wound up, and Mike helps him wind down.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

For the past half-hour or so, Mike's been sitting in bed and reading a book. "Well, you're a little wound up." He says, somewhat absently. Micky came in about halfway through, and he's been fidgeting since he laid down.

"Oh," Micky looks over at him. "I guess so, sorry." He glances at the book Mike's holding and smiles. "You like it so far?"

"Yeah, s'interesting." Lord of the Rings--the one and only book recommendation Micky's ever given, he thinks.

He nods, then sits up. "I'm gonna smoke a joint and try to relax."

Mike hums in acknowledgement, turning another page. He can see Micky reaching under the bed out of the corner of his eye and the spark of a lighter a moment later. The smoke catches itself in the fan a few feet away. He takes a couple more generous hits and stubs it, curling up to Mike right after.

"Better?" Mike asks, amused.

"Uh-huh." Micky says, even more amused.

When he rests his head on Mike's chest, he can feel his heartbeat staying the same steady rhythm, while his own gets quicker all of a sudden. Mike threads his hand in his hair, ruffling the curls. His hand trails down to the back of his neck and Mike kisses him, cold hands against his warm skin. It's enough to make him shiver. It's enough to make him moan into the next kiss. Mike slowly pulls away to set his book down, seeing the eyes Micky's giving him. He was a little unsure before, only because they haven't given a name to what's going on between them, nor did they talk too deeply about it. It was pretty clear what Micky wanted and when, though.

"Not sure how far you want to take this," he mumbles between kisses, pressing a stray few to Micky's jaw. "I mean, you're high."

"Yeah--so help me out, huh?"

"You're sure?"

He huffs. "You're torturing me here, babe."

"Oh, I'm sure." Now Mike's all too curious how he'll react to some teasing. Maybe that's why Micky likes him so much--he's used to getting what he wants, and Mike doesn't give it to him immediately. Sometimes it takes a while, but he always caves--winning him over, not realizing he's already got him hook, line, and sinker.

They go back to kissing, and he starts messing with the hem of his shirt before Micky takes it off himself and carelessly tosses it to the floor. Mike takes a second to admire the other man's chest as it rises up and down with heavy breath. "Gorgeous," he mumbles against it, taking a nipple into his mouth. Rubbing the other with his thumb, he's got Micky gasping and squirming. He's sensitive like this.

He lifts his head up. "Y'okay, honey?"

"Mhm, don't stop..." He doesn't go back to it immediately, so he tacks on a "please" which makes Mike twitch in his jeans. Coupled with the fact that Micky's unbuttoning his own, he feels like he might just scrap this whole teasing idea, fold him in half, and have his way. Micky's done it to him once before, and he was eager to return the favor.

However, he restrains himself and just palms him through his boxers. Watching him get more and more desperate seems a lot more interesting, Mike thinks, realizing what a perverted thought that is, but a certain someone right under him, bucking into his hand, had been quite the influence.

"Mike, please." he whines.

"Hm?"

"You're fully--you're still dressed. It'd, uh, be kind of a drag if you fucked me with your clothes on."

Drawing another whine, he slowly took his hand off Micky. "Would be kind of a drag." He starts unbuttoning his shirt, fluttering his eyelashes and biting his lip just to make the other laugh, and it works. After another minute of giggling and ogling each other, they're completely naked and have each other's tongues in their mouths. Mike has him on his back while his ankles cross behind Mike's waist, bringing him closer and grinding his cock against his. Mike groans and rocks his hips to chase the friction.

He pulls back to reach under the bed for a jar of Vaseline. It clinks against an empty bottle of cologne as he feels around for it. When he grabs it and sets it on the bed, Micky's already spread open. Mike kisses his inner thigh, leaving teasing bites and getting as close to his dick as possible without touching it. He slicks two fingers up with Vaseline and prods at his entrance. He grabs his other thigh as he pushes one in. Micky's breath catches, but he accepts another very easily. By the time Mike's knuckle deep, he's pushing back against them. Mike sits up to kiss his neck and leave teasing bites there too.

Micky can't take much more of this. "Oh, god--please, please,"

"What d'you want?" He nips at his earlobe.

"I want you to fuck me already,"

Despite the fact he's got his fingers in him, he chides Micky. "Is that how you ask? And here I thought you had some manners."

He crooks them just so, and Micky cries out. "Please!"

"Good." he drawls, taking his fingers out. He coats himself with a bit more Vaseline, taking a few more cursory strokes before pushing in. He pauses once he's bottomed out and waits for Micky to adjust.

"You can move." he breathes.

And that Mike does. He slams into him, making the headboard thump against the wall.

Between getting fucked and the sound of it all, Micky's body feels white hot. The sound of the headboard, heavy panting, and skin meeting skin all blend together into something so arousing it's dizzying. His hands are gripping the sheets, and Mike's grabbing him by the hips to adjust the angle. He moans and arches his back as Mike hits his prostate.

"That's it, honey, take it." He reaches down to pump his cock in time with his thrusts.

"So close--fuck, I'm so close."

Micky comes in his hand. He sees stars, and as they're fading, he realizes Mike's not done. He takes his hand off Micky and puts it back on his hip. He slams into him a few more times and finishes inside of him, wracking his nerves with overstimulation. They both take a minute to breathe and smile at each other before Mike pulls out.

"Was that too much?" He sits beside Micky, who rolls over on his side facing him.

"Nooo," Micky giggles, still stoned, though his head's a bit clearer. "That was terrific."

"I'm gonna go get a washcloth."

"Okay."

When Mike returns, Micky's out cold. He feels a little guilty waking him up with a cold washcloth, but it's a lot better than waking up all sticky.

Notes:

no beta on this one so sorry if the tense changes somewhere lol. title is from you just may be the one