Disclaimer: this imagine is NOT MINE. Credit to the original author, an anon on thestarcollectors. I got this from Tumblr.

Rating: R

***

Micky shut off the spray and stepped out of the shower, grimacing at the uncomfortable pull of muscle in his leg. The show had been a blast, he'd been bouncing all over the stage, but now the adrenaline was wearing off, and he was once more reminded that he was a man in his forties.

It had been worth it, though. He thought it was their best performance as a group. Mike's return had taken them to a whole new level, and Micky was simply unable to wipe the grin from his face. He swiped at the foggy bathroom mirror, toweled his hair semi-dry, then wrapped a second, dry towel around his waist.

Mike was sitting on the bed, dragging his tie through his hands. He looked up when Micky emerged, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Feel better?" he asked.

Micky nodded and joined him on the bed. "Thanks for staying."

Mike's grin widened, and he leaned in close. "My pleasure," he said before pressing a kiss to Micky's lips. He lingered for a moment, then pulled back. "I had fun."

"You were great."

"I was terrible," Mike chuckled. "But I had fun."

Micky reached up and slid his hand behind Mike's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. "I missed you."

"It's been a long time," Mike agreed, threading his fingers through Micky's damp hair.

Micky's hand slid along Mike's jawline. "I like this. It looks distinguished." He pinched the bearded chin between his fingers and shook it teasingly. "Never shave again." Mike laughed, and satisfaction bubbled up inside Micky. He'd always loved Mike's laugh.

"Okay," Mike promised, amused. "I won't."

"Good man," Micky said, and leaned back, pulling Mike onto the bed with him. Mike went willingly, propping himself up with his hands on either side as he leaned over Micky. "I'm glad you called," Micky said, looking up at him.

Mike said nothing, but leaned down for a kiss. This time, Micky parted his lips and let the other man explore his mouth. The kiss was deep and hungry, the beard scratchy, and Mike smelled faintly of sweat and cologne and Mike. Micky's cock was getting hard underneath his towel, but it had been years, and he didn't want it to be over that quickly. He pushed gently at Mike, breaking the kiss reluctantly. "Mike, wait."

Mike looked at him, surprised, but pulled back obligingly. Micky pushed himself up on the bed, leaning his bare back against the headboard and straightening the towel over his lap. He glanced up to see Mike watching him, and felt his face grow hot. Suddenly, he was twenty-three again and fooling around with Mike on tour for the first time. He'd come in his pants then, too caught up in youthful lust and the fear of being found out. Of course, back then, he recovered a lot faster than he could these days. Micky put a hand over his face and stifled a laugh at himself.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, and Micky dropped the hand and shook his head. "Want me to go?"

"No!" Micky said, reaching out a hand to rest on Mike's. "God, no. You almost made me lose it right here."

Mike grinned, and Micky felt his lips pulling up to match. "Alright," Mike said, leaning forward to plant a light kiss on Micky's lips. "We've got time. I'll go easy on you."

Micky grabbed a fistful of Mike's shirt to hold him. "Don't get smart," he warned. "You're older than I am."

"At least I can control my primitive urges," Mike teased, his eyes twinkling. He gave Micky another quick peck before pulling away and pushing himself to his feet. "I'm gonna take a shower while you cool off," he teased, unbuttoning his shirt as he turned toward the bathroom. "I'll try to hurry."

"You better," Micky shot back before the bathroom door closed. He waited until he heard the water turn on in the shower, and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Imagining Mike naked under the spray did nothing to ease his erection, and it was a torturous ache until the other man returned.

Mike emerged from the bathroom, fully naked and semi-erect, and climbed back onto the bed, straddling Micky's knees and leaning in for a kiss. "Miss me?" he murmured against Micky's mouth.

Micky hummed a response and slid a hand along the bare skin on Mike's side. Years and pounds later, Mike was still ticklish in the same spot, and he pulled away with a giggle. "Don't," he pleaded.

Micky grinned up at him. "Lie down," he whispered, and when Mike obliged, Micky discarded his towel and stretched out beside him.

"No tickling," Mike said as Micky reached for him.

Micky chuckled. "No," he agreed. He settled his hand on Mike's hip and tugged him closer until the hard length of his cock was pressed against Mike's.

"Thought you wanted to wait," Mike whispered as he angled Micky's face upward for a kiss.

"Want you," Micky said between kisses. "Missed you. So long."

"Okay," Mike said, and rolled his hips against Micky's.

Micky groaned as he thrust back against him. The sweet, silky slide of Mike's cock against his was even better than he remembered. "God, Mike," he growled.

A few more thrusts, and Micky was close. It was too much and too fast, and he didn't care because Mike's hand slid around to his backside to hold him in place as his movements became more urgent. Micky pressed his face into Mike's neck with a whimper as his orgasm built, and Mike's grip on him tightened.

Mike's voice was soft, a whispered plea, "Mick," and then Micky was falling over the edge, shuddering his release, and dimly aware of Mike following moments later.

Lying still in Mike's arms, drifting away as his breathing slowed, Micky felt the years slip away. It was good. They weren't young and loaded with energy, but it was always good with Mike.

"I can stay," Mike whispered against the top of Micky's head. "For a while."

"Stay," Micky said. There were things to do, they both knew they were too busy, but for just now, he didn't care.

"Okay," Mike said.