You And Me (Gallavich)

Sex Addict 2.0

Mickey woke with a jolt when he heard his alarm go off, blaring from the pocket of his jeans. With an exasperated sigh, he reached down under his blanket to pat his pockets in hope of finding his phone.

"What the fuck..." he mumbled sleepily as he pat down on something hard, poking into his back. Must be his fucking phone. He grabbed it tightly and pulled.

"OW! Fuck!" Ian hollered, cowering away from Mickey. "My fucking d-dick!"

"Oh shit!" Mickey yelped, last night's memories slowly fading back into his head. He felt his body get heated as he sat up on his knees on the bed and looked at Ian who was curled up into a ball, his hands covering his junk. "Shit, sorry man. I thought it was my phone-"

Ian's eyebrows furrowed as he squinted at Mickey. "What- am I dreaming? The fuck am I doing here?"

Mickey's mouth went dry as he played dumb. "Oh, I uh, have no idea. What are you doing here?"

Ian didn't look like he was planning on moving anytime soon, which didn't really bother Mickey. Instead, Ian breathed heavily through his nose for a few seconds before putting his hands behind his head and yawning. Mickey watched him, still up on his knees. "Mickey Milkovich of all people had an alarm on. What is it, eight in the morning?"

"It's eleven, dumb shit," Mickey rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And because sleeping late makes me feel shit all day. You get an early start, you feel refreshed."

"No work today?"

"Nah," Mickey huffed and dropped back down on the bed next to Ian. Their elbows grazed, but none of them bothered moving. Mickey didn't care if he promised himself not to fall back for Ian, he didn't care if this completely goes against everything he's thought for the last week. Right now, at this moment, as he sat with Ian on his bed in a comfortable silence, it felt okay. This felt right.

"I'm lookin' for a job too," Ian stated conversationally, turning onto his side and grinning at the dirty-blonde haired boy. "What'dya think I should do?"

"Army gone forever?"

Ian's smile faded softly. "...yeah. It just doesn't float my boat no more."

Mickey snorted. "Float your boat, huh?"

Ian unconsciously put an arm around Mickey, letting the boy rest his head on Ian's chest. "I like the idea of saving people. That's why I chose the army."

"Saving people?" Mickey asked. He thought for a minute, enjoying the feel of Ian running his hand through his hair. "How about policing? I'd fucking hate you, but at least I'd get to fuck a cop."

Ian snorted, both boys surprised Mickey had said that. It felt good that Mickey was getting back to his original state, the gross jokes and un-filtered words. "As long as it works for you, huh?"

"You know it," Mickey laughed. He ran a hand over Ian's red chest hair peeking through his shirt. "Fire."

"What?"

"Fireman," Mickey sat up, looking at Ian with wide eyes. "Ian, be a fucking fireman."

Ian shuffled up and sat against the headboard. "You think so?"

"You get to save people, put out fuckin' fires for a living," Mickey smiled happily, proud of himself for coming up with the idea. "Plus, it's hot."

"No shit it'll be hot," Ian snorted. He looked at Mickey with adoration spilling from his eyes. "Let's make a bet."

"Bet?"

"If I become a fireman in two months," Ian ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing Mickey mischievously. "You go on a date with me."