"Goddammit, Mick," Ian breathed out raggedly, panting hard under the weight of Mickey’s body curled up on top of him, seconds after collapsing on Ian after he’d ridden them to the finish line.
"Yeah?" Mickey murmured against his chest, lips pressing a light kiss above the nearest nipple.
Ian blew his breath out forcefully and tangled his hand into Mickey’s hair, rocking him back and forth as Mickey kept kissing his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Fucking marry me, Mick,” Ian groaned out, petting Mickey’s hair more and more slowly as sleep edged up on him. “Like now.”