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“Up,” Ian nudged at Mickey where he snoozed on the couch on his way past. He went into the bathroom to change out of his work clothes and when he came back Mickey was conked out on the couch still.
“C’mon, Mickey, get up,” Ian went to the TV and turned it off, then shook Mickey awake. He jolted up, clutching at Ian’s forearms and blinking as if he couldn’t get Ian’s face into focus properly. Something clicked and he realized where he was and what he’d been doing because he looked past Ian at the TV as he sat up.
“I never got to see what happened to the albino kid...” Mickey mumbled, scrubbing at his eyes and letting Ian pull him to his feet and down the hall to their room.
“You’ll just have to finish it another time. Download it on the weekend or something,” Ian said. As soon as he stopped helping Mickey stand up, the ex-con flopped front-first on the bed. Ian finished getting ready for bed then helped a barely-conscious Mickey get undressed before he pulled the covers over them.
Instead of curling up on his side facing away from Ian and shoving off his touches like he usually did, Mickey pushed Ian flat on his back and laid down on his chest. He huffed out a breath and mumbled; “I waited up for you.”
“Friday nights are always late, Mickey. You don’t have to wait up for me,” Ian said. He took a chance and stroked back Mickey’s hair. Mickey didn’t protest.
“Bed was cold and empty,” Mickey said, voice muffled with sleepiness.
“It isn’t anymore,” Ian said and Mickey’s breath tickled at his collarbone when he chuckled.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Mickey said pretty suddenly, and Ian took that as the grand statement it was by Mickey-standards. He rolled them onto their sides and initiated a soft kiss, which melted seamlessly into several more until they’d kissed each other to sleep. They woke up the next morning and continued their lives as normal. They never spoke about it and they probably never would but that was alright. They were alright.