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Ian hears the apartment door slam shut, and Mickey angrily muttering and stomping around.
"Mick? Did you get it?" He called, thinking maybe something went wrong. He’s just finished drying off from his shower and is slipping some sweats on, when Mickey enters the room in a huff. "What happ--"
"What the fuck is this!" Mickey shouts, throwing the magazine in his hand onto the bed with a slap. "What the fuck!"
"What? What is it? Is it bad?" Ian immediately scoops it up, afraid of what he might find. He’d really taken a leap signing with a new agency that had wanted to fast-track his modeling career. Everybody said it was too soon, too much, too good to be true. Mickey had been the only one in his corner, it seemed, supporting him from the beginning when he was just starting out. He'd gone to every one of his early runway shows and open calls, sometimes even helping him take photos for his portfolio before he'd gotten enough jobs to pay for a professional. And when things started to really take off, Mickey was still by his side, acting as boyfriend, manager and security. Ian couldn’t have asked for someone better to call his.
So the last thing he needed was for something to fuck eveything up before he even really got a taste. There was a million things running through his head. His debut shoot had been a dream come true from the fashion to the photographer. It was an amazing day, made even more special with Mickey allowed to stay with him, and he'd been anxiously waiting to see his first real magazine cover. Mickey was so proud of him as always and he hated the idea of him being upset over such a great opportunity. He took a breath and looked, examining the front cover for what had Mickey so worked up.
He kept looking, taking in every detail. Damn, he looked fucking good! Better than good, he looked...like a real professional. It was a bit overwhelming when he thought about his journey leading to this. It was a perfect shot of him, getting all of his angles and features. So, he was really confused. "What's wrong with it?"
Mickey's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. He gestured towards the magazine in Ian’s hands. "Don't tell me you don't see anything wrong with that!"
Ian tried his best to see what his boyfriend might be seeing, but it just wasn't clicking. He may be a model but he wasn't too dumb. The only thing he could think was that Mickey somehow had a problem with something he did. His heart sank. "You...don't like it?"
Mickey immediately calmed down. "What? No! Ian, of course I fucking like it." He came closer, taking Ian’s hips and rubbing his thumbs in the dips left exposed by his sweats hanging low.
"Then I don't understand, Mick. What's up? I thought this was good, we're supposed to be celebrating."
Mickey sighs. "I know, I know. Believe me, I was so excited to see this thing and now..."
Ian touched Mickey’s cheek, seeing all his emotions flash on his face. "Hm?"
"I love it. I'm so happy and proud. It's just...it's not all of you."
Ian pauses, not expecting that. "What do you mean?"
"It's not how I see you, all of you in your glory. You're fucking beautiful, Ian. Why the hell would they edit anything out?" Mickey's getting worked up again, breathing hard and shaking his head. He points to the photo of his boyfriend, circling his finger around the very small designer shorts Ian was wearing, and lifts his eyebrow.
And then it dawns on Ian when he looks closer. He vaguely remembers the photographer singing his praises during the shoot while the magazine reps looked a little...less impressed? Uncomfortable? Clearly there had been editing done, he was still human despite what the media wanted the masses to perceive, but he remembers a different final photo chosen than the one he's looking at. That's definitely not the same prominent bulge he's packing. He can’t help but be amused, so he grins.
"They, uh, shaved a little off the top, huh?"
"They fucking castrated you! Look at you! They made you a dickless Ken doll!"
Ian burst out laughing, imagining the editing team frantically reworking the size of his penis to be more palatable to average consumers. It made him giggle. "Seems like a huge oversight in marketing," he joked.
Mickey made a frustrated noise almost like a whine, looking at the cover again. "It's not funny, Ian! How are people supposed to fap to this?"
Ian scoffed, taking the magazine back. "Oh, that's what's got you throwing a tantrum?"
"Am not," Mickey pouted slightly. Ian grabbed him and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Just looking out for you. That's all. I don’t want them changing you into something not real. They could've jeopardized any future gigs for you."
Ian cups Mickey’s face and kisses his mouth. "I know. I get it. They blatantly went behind my back. If it wasn't what they were going for, they should have said. It was unprofessional. So we won't work with them again, okay?"
"Okay. Yeah, fuck'em. They don't get to edit out your cock. That's my cock too!"
Ian chuckled. "Yeah? Any other boyfriend would be glad no one else gets to see what I got."
Mickey bites his lip, appraising Ian with his eyes. "I ain't just any boyfriend, and this ain't just any cock." He palmed the large bulge in Ian’s sweats, running his hand along the line it created down the inside of his thigh.
Ian moaned. "Fuck. Can't get rid of the real thing. That's all me."
Mickey smiled wide, leaning in close so their lips touched while he slipped his hand inside. "Yeah it is."