It was one of that summer days when the heat is almost unbearable and you feel your skin melt and your lips eternally dry. Ian and Mickey were lying on their bed, resting on the back with their arms next to their bodies, hands slightly touching – each of them in his own half, since personal space was a very fundamental matter in days like that. Their fingertips were playing silently, brushing and squeezing tenderly, but even that little movement was making them sweat.
«Jesus Fucking Christ. It’s like being in a fucking microwave. I can’t… Can we have a shower or something?»
«We already had three showers today… Never been cleaner in my whole fucking life»
Ian rolled his eyes and scoffed.
«Not hard to believe» He half laughed when Mickey lazily raised his arm and punched him on the shoulder. Instinctively, he took his hand in his and rubbed his knuckles with his fingertips. It was one of that things that always made Mickey relax; he sighed lightly, abandoning to the intimate touch. He secretly loved that little moments they sometimes had when no one was looking, and there was nothing better to do than just be. Together, silently, barely doing anything at all other than feel each other’s presence and acknowledge each other’s bodies with little, simple, special affections that were theirs and theirs only. Usually, it was an after-sex activity, but today they were so distracted by the heat that they kind of forgot about it. Or, at least, Mickey had. He really just wanted to have Ian near to him, feel the warmth of his body next to his skin, even if that made him sweat even more. He turned around to look at him, his lips open and his breath slow and steady almost like he was about to fall asleep, his eyes sealed at the ceiling, looking into who knew which fantasy. He had on only a pair of boxers, and Mickey could see his muscles flex a little at every breath.
He couldn’t help but get closer and put his lips on his shoulder. And then on his neck. Earlobe. Jaw. Cheek. He put two fingers under his chin and turned his face around just a little, to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Ian answered enthusiastically as ever, but Mickey kept it slow and sweet, instead of letting it grow in their usual foreplay routine. When they separated, Ian looked at him with a curious smirk on his face, licking his lips leisurely with the tip of his tongue.
«Wanna take your mind off of the fucking heat for a while?» He asked, putting a provocative hand on his tight. Surprisingly, Mickey took his hand and squeezed it, brushing his knuckles with his fingertips just like Ian did before. He looked at him quite shyly from under his long eyelashes.
«You know… It’s too fucking hot to move as much as we should. I know it’s a fucking pussy thing to say, but I’m kind of enjoying the moment right now, you know? Just… Staying like this. You and me. I don’t need other distractions.»
Ian looked surprised, but smiled softly and nodded, his eyes sparkling. He kissed him again, and again, and again, tasting his warmth on his lips. Then they rested again on their backs, hand intertwined, sending leeringly glances to each others to see if the other was looking. They were always looking, their gazes always met, and they always ended up chuckling like two little adorable idiots.
«Is this what people do when they cuddle?» Ian asked between the giggles.
«I don’t know, man. In the movies they are always hugging though, you know»
«You wanna hug me?»
«Nah, it’s too hot.» But he raised his hand and rested it in Ian’s hair, stroking them gently. Ian closed his eyes and turned to Mickey’s side. He began caressing his chest with a finger. He moved it in little circles, at first. Then he began to write invisible letters on his skin.
«Me too.» Mickey answered quietly.
(Hope you like it, anon!)
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