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“If I hear Thriller one more fucking time,” Mickey groaned, pushing the grocery cart behind his sister.
Mandy funky zombie-shuffled over to him and threw two more bags of candy into the cart. Mickey couldn’t help but snort at her awful moves.
“MJ is rolling in his grave,” he said, following her to the checkout lines. How he got stuck going shopping with her for her party, he’ll never know. Maybe it had something to do with the promise of king-sized candy bars and cheap rum, but he didn’t like to think he was sold that easily.
“Spooky!” Mandy jabbed and tickled him, cackling like a witch.
“Quit it!” Mickey laughed, cowering away. “Pay for your shit and let’s go, bitch.”
Mandy rolled her eyes, “Lighten up, would you? It’s Halloween, Mick. It’s fun!”
“I prefer Thanksgiving,” Mickey shrugged, absently examining a magazine with gourmet tacos on it. Mandy made another frustrated sound.
“I can still uninvited you, you know…Ian and I will have fun without you,” she smirked.
Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. “What? You invited him?”
“Yeah, why not? I thought he was your boyfriend.” Mickey could see the concern on her face. She would do anything for him, including protect him against some jerk even if the jerk was quickly becoming her best friend.
Mickey stammered, thinking about what he and Ian were exactly. They’d hung out a few times, kissed just as much. They liked each other, that much was obvious. Ian was sweet and caring, pretty smart when he put his mind to something. He was fun to be around and understood taking care of your own, something important to Mickey. It was just a side effect of where they grew up. He liked that they understood each other for the most part, and that Ian asked questions. Although Mickey tended to get really nervous if they talked about him too much, he could get used to someone actually giving a shit. But could Ian be his boyfriend? How would that even work? All these questions constantly swirled around in his head, but seemed to completely fly out the window whenever he was near Ian. Mandy was still analyzing his reaction. He shrugged and looked away.
“We’re taking it slow,” he offered, hoping that would appease her, but she just sighed exasperatedly.
“That’s what he said too.”
Now Mickey really perked up. Shit. Were they moving too slowly? Was Ian losing interest every time Mickey pulled away like some blushing virgin? What if he was expecting Mickey to be more experienced? Should he be? Fortunately his sister picked up on his silent freak-out.
“Hey. Tonight’s gonna be fun. Don’t worry about that stuff. There’ll be enough finger-banging going on anyway.”
They both made a face then laughed, as they headed home.
//////////////
“I thought you were going to dress up,” Mickey teased when he entered the living-room. He snorted when Mandy glared at him with heavy black eye makeup and blood splatter on her face and all down her dress.
“I’m Lizzie Borden, jackass. And what are you, a methhead?” She smacked his hand away from the chip bowl.
Mickey scoffed, stepping back to show her his full look. He had on ripped jeans, boots, a ripped leather vest over a band shirt and a bandana around his head. His guitar hung from his neck, and he’d painted his face white. “Dead rockstar.” He smiled proudly. He’d worked hard on his costume, finding the right vest that would fit comfortably over his binder. It all worked together and he looked good, but now he was nervous of what Ian would think.
People started arriving and the party was in full swing in no time. The music was loud, booze was flowing and candy was disappearing faster than Mickey could hide it for himself. Everyone seemed to be having a good time whether their costume sucked or not. Ian had arrived as a zombie army private, clearly taking advantage of his ROTC fatigues. He had kept it a secret leading up to the night, making Mickey guess as they cuddled. Mickey was sure he’d been close a number of times, but he was just as okay letting the game drag on as Ian was.
Mickey smiled, watching Ian dance with Mandy and a couple other girls. He was grinning as he moved to the music, and Mickey had a hard time taking his eyes away. Damn, he was a good dancer. Ian spotted him and winked, beckoning him over. Even though Mickey blushed and shook his head, his feet began moving before he could think about it. Ian took his hand and spun him around a few times. Mandy grinned, melting back into the crowd to leave them alone. She gave him a thumbs up, and he rolled his eyes. He’d long since abandoned his guitar in his room, so Ian pulled him close, moving them together. Mickey followed his lead, turning red every time Ian complimented him. He’d totally gushed over his costume when he first saw him, and Mickey was getting overwhelmed. Ian’s hands were wrapped around his back, and Mickey found his own hands sliding around Ian’s sides. Then Ian surprised him, leaning down and attacking his lips in a kiss that was part lust spurred by liquor, and part pure passion and…something else Mickey was afraid to admit. Ian’s hand traveled up his body to his neck, cupping it and keeping them connected. The move immediately went between his legs, a wave of throbbing making him lightheaded and dizzy. It was already hot with how many people were crammed into their house, but that heat was exponentially higher right where Ian’s hard frame met his body. And holy shit, his tongue felt amazing. They pulled apart and Ian looked a little happy and a little embarrassed.
A little voice in Mickey’s head went straight to regret. Mickey tried to pull away. “What was that for?” he asked, feeling his swollen lips. His heartbeat sped up.
Now Ian really blushed. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I’m a little drunk, but I’ve been thinking about doing that since I got here…longer actually.”
Mickey nodded slowly at first, watching his face, then decided he was telling the truth. Ian didn’t have a reason to lie to him, not that he even would. He didn’t seem like the type of fuckboi to play games and blame it on the alcohol. Mickey relaxed a bit, still feeling flushed and now giddy. Without thinking, he took Ian’s hand and pulled him through the throng to his room, then closed the door behind them. Mickey pushed him against the door and only hesitated a little before kissing him again long and hard. Ian moaned, cupping his face, then pulled back when he felt Mickey going for his pants.
“Wait…wait, Mickey, hold on. Slow down,” he whispered.
Mickey shook his head. “Don’t want to…wanna go fast,” he panted, connecting their mouths again then moving to Ian’s neck. The sound Ian made when he got a hand on his dick was enough to make him wet. He tried not to think about it, or how much he wanted to hump Ian right then and there. Ian gave in for a little bit, then pushed him away again.
“C’mon, don’t you want…don’t you want to—“
“Yeah…yeah, but—“
“But what?” Mickey stepped back fully now, looking everywhere on Ian’s face. What was he doing wrong now?
Ian seemed to think for a moment, looking at Mickey then down. He was quiet when he spoke. “I don’t think…” he paused.
Mickey took it and ran. He paced his room, getting more worked up than horny now. He was an idiot. Of course Ian didn’t want to have sex with him! How would that even work? It wouldn’t, that’s what. And now Mickey was throwing himself at him, and he didn’t even want it. Why would he? Fuck! He stopped pacing and sat down on his bed, putting his face in his hands.
“You don’t think I can satisfy you.”
“What?” Ian sounded surprised. Maybe he didn’t think Mickey would figure it out so quickly.
“You’re gay. You like cock. I don’t have cock. I don’t even have a fucking dildo!” Mickey laughed at himself, feeling stupid. So much for acting like he was big and bad and down to fuck. He didn’t know shit.
Ian came over and sat down beside him. He didn’t touch him, thank god. “Mick, what’s all this about? What do you mean you can’t satisfy me? Is that what you think?”
Mickey sighed, frustrated. “That’s what you think…that I can’t…that sex with me couldn’t possibly be any good.”
“Did I say that?”
Mickey paused a second. “No, but you didn’t have to.”
Ian started laughing to himself, then apologized. “Mickey, trust me. That’s not what I’m worried about at all.” He rubbed his hands together and got quiet again. “I’m more scared you won’t enjoy it…if I can’t…please you,” he admitted.
Mickey’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “But…what…why would you think that? Ian, no, you—“
“Well, I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here. This is different than what I’m used to, but…it’s not like I’m some…selfish dickhead…no pun intended,” he smiled a little at Mickey, and Mickey smiled back. “Everyone is different. Doesn’t matter who I’m with, but I want to be with you so…,” he shrugged, trailing off.
“It would help if you knew what to do,” Mickey finished for him. He felt better when Ian nodded and agreed.
Suddenly Ian was like an excited puppy. “So, like, what do you like? Is that okay to ask? Is it alright if we talk about this? Should we wait?”
Mickey laughed, taking Ian’s hand. “Slow down,” he teased, and was glad Ian caught on. “We have time. Let’s go slow.”
Ian leaned in and kissed him softly. He bit his lip and groaned when they pulled apart. “Now I’m imagining you totally rocking my world.”
Mickey snorted, shoving Ian away. “Ha ha. I’m a rockster. Good one, Captain Undead.”
“I’d love to…pick your brains!” Ian tackled him down onto the bed making zombie growls.
Mickey laughed so hard, he couldn’t remember having a better Halloween.