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The first time they slept in the same bed, Ian woke up with his face smushed into his pillow, the blankets pooled at his feet, and Mickey Milkovich completely wrapped around him.
“Holy shit,” Ian whispered. He stared down at the black head of hair tucked under his chin and resisted the urge to pull Mickey in tighter lest he wake him up. He definitely never took Mickey for the cuddling type.
He could feel Mickey’s hot breaths against his chest and wondered if Mickey had done this subconsciously or purposely waited for Ian to doze off before suctioning on like an octopus. Holy shit, he was so cute.
Ian decided to savor this moment and closed his eyes, enjoying the intimacy that Mickey never allowed when they were fucking. Mickey snuffled and for a second Ian worried that he was going to wake up, but instead Mickey just nuzzled his face into Ian’s chest. Ian’s heart swelled and he grinned goofily, beaming down at the figure clinging onto him.
“Wipe that stupid smile off your face,” Mickey grumbled. He must have woken up after all.
“You can’t see my face,” Ian said.
“Yeah, but I still know you’re smiling,” Mickey shot back. Ian laughed.
“Didn’t think you were the cuddling type,” Ian told him, hoping that wouldn’t scare Mickey off of him.
“M’not,” Mickey denied sleepily, despite their current position. “You like waffles?”
“Fuck yeah,” Ian replied, slightly put-out when Mickey started extracting himself.
“Good, maybe they’ll have them at your house. Later, Gallagher,” Mickey said over his shoulder as he got out of bed and shut the bathroom door behind him.
Despite the harsh brush-off, Ian got dressed and left the Milkovich house with the same smile he woke up with.
The second time they slept together— like, literally slept—it was on the couch just minutes after round three. The DVD menu for the movie they watched was still glowing on the TV screen, and Ian was wondering just what Mickey had meant when he invited Ian over to “crash.” He was half-worried that Mickey was going to kick him out, but instead he just turned off the TV and pulled him boxers back on before collapsing next to Ian.
“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” Mickey said, head lolling back.
“Yeah, that last round probably took a lot out of you,” Ian teased.
“Fuck off,” Mickey said fondly.
Ian decided to push his limits and leaned over to kiss Mickey. Maybe it was because Mickey finally felt safe, or maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he just really wanted to kiss too— whatever the reason was, Mickey not only allowed the kiss but melted into it completely. He shifted so that he was laying on his back and pulled Ian over him. They kissed for a minute or so before Mickey broke away, blushing slightly.
“Go to bed, asshole,” Mickey said breathlessly and Ian collapsed right on top of him.
“Get off me, you giant ginger weirdo!” Mickey demanded, his voice muffled by Ian’s bare chest. Ian rolled off him and Mickey shifted over, letting Ian lay down next to him.
“Don’t you have a bed?” Ian asked, shifting around and trying to get comfortable.
Mickey rolled over so he was facing Ian and mumbled something that Ian couldn’t hear.
“What was that?” Ian teased. “Didn’t catch it.”
“Nothing, just quit bitching and go to sleep.”
Ian sighed loudly and squirmed some more, trying to give Mickey room while also accommodating his long limbs. Eventually Mickey groaned and just tugged Ian closer, trying to get their bodies to line up. Ian caught on and wrapped an arm around Mickey’s shoulder. He felt a little less pinned to the spot and finally relaxed, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off.
When they woke up, Mickey had both arms wrapped around Ian’s torso and one leg flung over his waist. When Mickey woke up, he was slower to pull away.
They didn’t sleep together for a long time after that.
After Mickey came out, he stopped having qualms about cuddling. They had all sorts of different positions— Ian loved to spoon, though Mickey preferred to just latch onto Ian like a koala. The night Ian was released from the hospital, Ian assumed the position Mickey normally occupied. Neither commented on it in the morning.
When they bought their first apartment together, they spent the night christening all the flat surfaces before finally entering their bedroom. The Gallaghers and Milkoviches had all chipped in to buy them a new, enormous bed, and the boys were greatly looking forward to trying it out. That night, though, they wanted nothing more than to just curl up next to each other and enjoy their new freedom.
“We can have sex with the door open,” Mickey said dreamily.
“We can walk around naked,” Ian added, tugging Mickey into his side. Mickey intertwined their legs and sighed exaggeratedly.
“We can sleep in without worrying about someone waking us up.”
“You don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on you cuddling the shit out of me.”
“Fuck off,” Mickey said. “I don’t ‘cuddle the shit out of you.’”
“Yes you do!” Ian argued.
“Do not!”
“Absolutely do! You’re a fucking koala, Mick, every time I wake up you’re wrapped around me like an octopus.”
“Am I a koala or an octopus?”
“Both!”
“Whatever, Ian. You cuddle me too, jackass!”
“I know I do! I’m just less...aggressive about it.”
“‘Aggressive’?”
“You know what I mean!” Ian said exasperatedly.
“Do I?” Mickey replied grumpily.
“Yes, you do,” Ian said. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I? I love it. I love you. Even when you’re suffocating me.”
“Fuck off,” Mickey said again, mumbling under his breath.
“What was that, Mick?”
“I said, ‘I love you too,’” Mickey muttered.
Ian laughed and leaned forward to kiss Mickey’s forehead. “Shut up and cuddle me, Milkovich.”
It didn’t take very long for Mickey to give in and wrap his limbs around Ian. They both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.