Work Text:
To say It had been a long day at work, was an understatement.
Ian knew when he decided to become an EMT, that he’d see some crazy shit. Hell, his whole life could be summed up as ‘crazy shit’. However, nothing could have prepared him for the call he had to deal with, only minutes before his shift ended at work. An abused woman had snapped and stabbed her husband to death with a butcher knife, before slitting her own wrists. Luckily, they arrived in time to save the woman. But her young daughter, unharmed thank god, had to watch the whole thing.
Ian, unfortunately, saw this stuff all the time. But this time specifically really fucked with him. It made him think of Monica. It made him think of that one Thanksgiving night. He knew it was fucked up, but all he could think when he revisited the memory, was that he missed her.
Ian finally made it home around eleven, after rushing the woman and her daughter to the hospital and doing some paperwork. He was ready to just go upstairs and go to bed. He needed to feel his husbands warm embrace. He needed Mickey.
However, when Ian opened the door to the Gallagher home, he was immediately greeted by the sound of music. He looked around briefly, all the lights being off in the house except for one, the kitchen. The faint sound of running water could be heard alongside the music. Ian tried to focus on the lyrics, and then he heard it.
Sugar pie, honey bunch
You know that I love you
I can’t help myself
I love you and nobody else
One thing Ian knew about his husband, was that he had a love for classic music. That ranged from Bon Jovi, to Elvis, to the Rolling stones, to Frankie Valli. If it was made before the year 2000, Mickey probably listened to it. It didn’t surprise him that Mickey would listen to this stuff, while doing housework, but Ian found it endearing as hell.
Trying not to make a sound, Ian walked slowly to the kitchen. He didn’t want Mickey to know he was home, not yet.
When Ian finally arrived, he stopped dead in his tracks at the scene before him. Mickey was doing dishes, tapping his foot, and bopping along to the song. Ian smiled as he leaned up against the washing machine, watching his husband shake his cute little ass, and hum. Ian liked Mickey like this. He like Mickey being himself, loose and carefree, letting his guard down. There was something innately beautiful about the man when he thought no one else was watching.
In and out my life
You come and you go
Leaving just your picture behind
And I kissed it a thousand times
Ian pushed himself off the washer then, and quietly walked over to Mickey, slipping his arms around the older man, startling him a bit. Ian grinned as he felt Mickey relax, and suddenly the stress from the day started to weaken. Though, that wasn’t surprising to Ian. Mickey always was a stress reliever for him.
Still holding onto Mickey, Ian gently started to sway to the music. He leaned his head down to Mickey’s ear, “When you snap your finger or wink your eye, I come a-running to you. I'm tied to your apron strings. And there's nothing that I can do,” he sang sweetly, and Ian could see Mickey’s reaction through the window.
Mickey raised his eyebrows, “What are you doing?”
Ian swayed a little stronger, “Can’t help myself.”
“Ian.”
“I can’t help myself.”
Mickey elbowed him, but not in a rough way, “Aye, Ariel, quit your singing shit. I’m trying to clean here.”
“Just trying to serenade you, Mick,” Ian grinned, ignoring Mickey’s previous demand by pulling his husband back by his hips, grinding and moving his own, as he peppered kisses along Mickey’s neck.
Mickey, who had a wet washcloth in his hand, brought it back behind his shoulder to smack Ian in the face.
“Damnit, Mickey,” Ian sputtered, “You got soap in my mouth.”
“Ha! Serves you right, bitch,” Mickey taunted, but his victory was short lived, when Ian spun him around, and grabbed at his hips, nuzzling Mickey’s neck, moving his hips to the music.
Sugar pie, honey bunch
I'm weaker than a man should be
I can't help myself
I'm a fool in love you see
“Gallagher,” Mickey mumbled, bringing his hand to cup the back of his husband’s head, as he let himself be moved by the music, “Ian.”
Suddenly, Ian pushed Mickey up against the counter, slotting himself in between Mickey’s thighs.
When I call your name
Girl, it starts the flame
Ian kissed along Mickey’s jaw, sliding his hands up Mickey’s shirt. He gently scraped his nails up and down the dark-haired boy’s torso, tickling him.
Mickey gasped and then laughed, as Ian kissed along side his neck, and then finally came up to capture Mickey’s lips.
Burning in my heart, tearing it all apart
Both boys were now grinding against each other, but it wasn’t sexual in nature. They were dancing to the music. And as Ian grabbed at Mickey’s hips again, moving together in time with the music, and mouthing the words against his husband’s lips, he began to feel like it was only him and Mickey in the entire universe. And there wasn’t any pain and suffering. No debt, and no struggling. Just Ian and Mickey, moving as one. It was a beautiful thing to think about.
Ian brought his hands up to Mickey’s hair, running his fingers through it, still grinding up against Mickey like he was Jennifer Grey, in Dirty Dancing. He continued to mouth the words to the song, resting his forehead against Mickey’s.
No matter how I try, my love I cannot hide
“Whoo!” Ian shouted, tearing himself away from Mickey, getting carried away with the music, and Mickey was right there with him, as Ian pulled him back towards the center of the kitchen, twirling him around. And this time, when Ian looked into Mickey’s eyes, he saw no trace of annoyance. Just pure elation, letting Ian put one hand on his hip.
Mickey put one hand on Ian’s shoulder, while his other had was still clasping onto Ian’s, letting the redhead guide him into a dance.
“‘Cause sugar pie, honey bunch!” they both sang out, “You know that I'm weak for you. Can't help myself. I love you and nobody else.”
They continued to dance like no one was watching, as they sang, and kissed, and laughed. It made Ian realize that this with Mickey, everything with Mickey, was very precious, and Ian was lucky to have his husband in his life. He knew this was a special something he shouldn’t take for granted. And when Ian looked into Mickey’s giddy crystal blue eyes, he knew that Mickey was thinking the same thing too.
When the song ended, Ian stopped dancing, his chest heaving a little.
Mickey grinned at him, and Ian couldn’t resist pulling him in and kissing him. Mickey hummed against Ian’s lips, as he felt the other boy bring his hand up to the back of his neck.
“Had a bad day at work,” Ian mumbled into the kiss.
Mickey brought his hand up to Ian’s cheek, rubbing circles with his thumb, “Wanna talk about it?”
Ian shook his head, “Not right now. Just wanna hold you.”
“Ok.”
Ian sighed, as he held Mickey in the middle of the kitchen, water still running in the sink. “I love you, Mickey.”
“I know. Love you too, Ian.”