Chapter Text
Mickey was smoking in the middle of a fucking hallway. When his manager had picked the hotel for the band to stay in she’d gotten them smoking rooms, or so she’d thought, but they’d been informed that there was one wing on the floor that was smoking, while the rest of it was not. Of course it had to be Mickey’s fucking room in the non-smoking section. If V caught even one whiff of smoke coming from the thick burgundy drapes she’d kick his ass so hard he’d be limping for a week, and not in that fun kind of way. She probably wouldn’t have given a fuck if Iggy hadn’t thrown a party in Mickey’s room after their last show. That place had been a fucking shit-show in the morning.
So Mickey was stuck smoking in the fucking hall, which was probably just as bad, but whatever. He kind of wanted to go beat on Iggy’s door until the fucker woke up so he could smoke in there, but he was pretty sure the asshole had taken a groupie to bed with him. The hotel’s walls were a weird beige colored wallpaper. The edges were peeling up in vertical lines. He wanted to grab the edges and rip until they showed the ugly yellow glue underneath. The thought made him smile as he pictured V’s face if he went through with it.
Down the hall a door clicked open. A tall muscular redhead slipped out without opening the door all the way. Mickey recognized him, fuck, everybody would recognize that ginger. Red was in a shit-ass boy band with his brothers. Mickey had been on tour with his band for five years and they didn’t have half the fame those shitheads had managed in the two years they’d been together.
And Ginger was the most famous of them all. Not for being a singer, nope for being the first boybander who came out as a big ‘ol ‘mo before they made it big. That orange hair had been on the cover of every magazine available for months. Probably wasn’t even really gay. Mickey bet he did it just for publicity to launch his band.
Red didn’t look at Mickey as he passed him on the way to the vending machines. Mickey smirked. Mickey’s eyes followed Red’s form as he disappeared into the alcove. Damn, he was just Mickey’s type. He was wearing a tight black wife beater and sweats that showed Mickey that Red was packing. Usually Mickey’s band, The Alibi, got a floor to themselves, but they were in town for an award ceremony so they were double booked with the other band and their roadies.
The boybander stepped back into the hallway with a cold soda in hand. He met Mickey’s eyes just briefly before flitting them back to the wall. There was nothing there to look at. Mickey’d been staring at the same picture repeated every five feet all fucking night, so he knew the kid was just trying to avoid looking his way.
If he hadn’t had three beers and more than a couple whiskey sours Mickey probably would’ve just let him pass on by, but he was drunk and horny.
“Hey, Red. You really gay?”
Mickey could hear him sigh from ten feet away. The kid didn’t slow down a step.
“My name is Ian, and yes, I am really gay.”
He looked at Mickey again. There was a fire in those eyes. Mickey fought not to chub up. The kid was within arm’s reach.
“So, Ian, top or bottom?”
“Fuck you.” Ian spat. Mickey could see his eyes glowing. He thought Mickey was looking for a fight, which sounded like fun, but maybe some other night. Mickey moved his cigarette to his left hand and reached out with his right to snag Ian by his waistband. Ian turned like he was ready to throw a punch, so Mickey let his eyes roam from that flame of hair down to Ian’s feet and back again in the most obvious way possible.
“Top or bottom?” Mickey let his voice go thick with lust.
Finally getting the hint Ian squared his shoulders bringing himself up to his full height.
“Top. No exceptions.”
Correct answer. Mickey threw his cig into the ashtray trashcan in the hall before pulling out his key card to open his door. “You got someplace to be or do you want to come on in for a beer?”
The redhead lifted an eyebrow, “I’m underage.”
Mickey rolled his eyes, “And I’m not really asking you inside to give you a fucking beer, now am I?”
The smile that lit up Red’s face at that was fucking blinding. It made him look even younger as he followed Mickey into the room. Despite being a room for pussy-ass non-smokers the digs were pretty nice. The bedroom was separate from a small kitchen with an even smaller island and an uncomfortable polyester couch that sat in front of a big flatscreen T.V. bolted into the wall.
The kid wasn’t up for a drink, but Mickey sure as hell was. He hadn’t been fucked in ages. No one knew he preferred dick, and he was going to make damn sure no one found out. Iggy and Tony fucked the local fans at every stop, but Mickey couldn’t exactly go pull and not expect to end up on the front page of some sleaze magazine. Fuck the paps. He let the swig of beer wash down the thoughts of getting caught. Red was already out, but it would hurt him just as bad if he got caught. Innocent young Ian in bed with big bad Fuck U-Up Mickey? Not good for business.
Mickey set his beer down. “We gonna stand here all night or are you gonna get on this?”
That fucking smile came back as Ian swooped in for a kiss. One firm hand on his chest stopped him before he could reach Mickey’s mouth.
“I’m not a fucking girl. I don’t need foreplay.” Mickey stripped his shirt off and dropped his pants to his feet. He pulled lube and a condom out of a his bag and set it on the island before bending over it. He could practically hear Red smirking behind him. Sparks licked their way up his muscles underneath his skin when Ian dragged a hand down Mickey’s spine. He turned his grip so that he could palm at Mickey’s hole between his cheeks. Mickey moaned as the sparks turned into a full burn.
The lube disappeared from next to him into Ian’s hand. It wasn’t as cold as he’d expected, but still cold enough to shock him forward an inch or two as it hit him before Ian slid a few fingers in. It burned in a way that Mickey used to hate, but now just fed his anticipation. He fucked back into them.
“Jesus.” Ian laughed, “You really are a fucking bottom.”
“Fuck off. I’m starting to think you lied about being a top.”
“Nope.” Mickey could hear the asshole smiling. “I’m just making sure you can actually handle me.”
That was kind of intriguing. Mickey looked over his shoulder. Ian was rolling the condom onto the biggest dick Mickey had ever seen in person. It wasn’t monstrous, but it was at least 9 thick inches. He knew it made him queer as fuck, but the sight of it made his mouth and dick wet. It had been a long time since Mickey had been that hard.
Ian was back at his hole with three slick fingers. Mickey meant to tell him to hurry the fuck up but just ended up groaning as they went in fast. Ian laughed at Mickey again when he white knuckle gripped the edge of the island as Ian crooked his fingers against Mickey’s prostate.
“Fuck you, Firecrotch. I’m fucking ready. Just fucking fuck me already.”
“You should work on your vocabulary.” Ian snarked before pushing in just this side of too fast.
Mickey’s head thumped to the counter. The noises spilling out of him were downright embarrassing. Ian was gripping his shoulder and hip hard enough that Mickey just knew there were going to be delicious purple bruises in the morning. His cock was thick enough that Mickey could really feel the pull as he hammered in and out just the way Mickey liked. They’d only been fucking for a minute and he wasn’t even close to coming yet and it was already the best sex Mickey had ever had.
When Ian bent just a little more to hit Mickey’s spot head on he was sure he screamed just a little. He blamed it on the searing heat still sliding through his veins when he splattered cum all over the counter, dick untouched.
“Oh, Fuck Yes.” Ian groaned as he humped Mickey through his orgasm. Ian kept fucking Mickey even though he was oversensitive and raw until he filled the condom with a moan.
Mickey was shaking, like a little fucking bitch, because he couldn’t stop himself. “Damn, Firecrotch. Where’d you learn how to fuck like that?” Even his voice was quivering. Fuck.
“From doing bossy bottoms like you.” He smacked Mickey’s ass. Ian threw away the condom while Mickey tried to reassemble himself. It was fucking unfair that Red had been 90% dressed the whole time. Ian turned that smile on Mickey while his dick was still hanging out of his pants exposing that nest of fiery curls.
What he meant to say was, ‘Thanks. Now get the fuck out.’ What came out of Mickey’s mouth was, “You got another round in you?”
“I will when you’re done sucking my dick.” Ian said, smirk firmly in place.
Years later Mickey would blame the whole fucking fiasco on that blowjob.