Work Text:
It had been a long day at work for Ian, and when he got home Mickey agreed to make him some pasta for dinner – it was one of the only things he could make well.
Ian grabbed a beer out of the fridge and went to sit in the lounge, watching some program on TV that wasn’t so terrible. He put his feet up and took a long swig, finally able to relax.
It was only about ten minutes later that he heard a loud scream and a clang and a scramble come from the kitchen.
“Jesus fucking fuck!”
A smile came to Ian’s lips and he chuckled to himself.
“You alright in there Mick?” he asked to no answer. “Mick?”
He got up to walk into the kitchen and laughed out loud when he saw Mickey standing up on their small table with a pan in his hands, the saucepan lid on the floor and one of the chairs knocked over.
He keened over with his laughter at the sight of him, leaning up against the wall with a big grin on his face.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Mickey just looked up with wide eyes. “Did you fucking see that fucking thing?!”
“What are you talking about?”
“That fucking rat!” he yelled.
“Mickey, there are no rats―”
“Bull-fucking-shit there’s not!” he yelled again.
“Well I’m sure if there are any rats in here you scared them away,” Ian said. “I mean look at you up there with your fry pan and your short little boxer shorts.”
“Oh you makin’ fun of me?” he asked, eyes all crazy as his hands gripped the handle of the pan.
“Mickey get down from there,” Ian said. “Come on, there’s no rat.”
“There fucking is,” Mickey said and Ian huffed loudly with a smile still on his lips.
“Okay, there is, now get down and tomorrow I’ll go buy a trap or something,” he said, holding out his hand to help him down.
Mickey just grumbled, eyes darting around as he looked for the creature he had just seen.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of rats,” Ian grinned and Mickey flipped him off.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said. “I wasn’t fucking expecting it, alright? Go watch your TV, wait for dinner.”
Ian just smiled again, kissing Mickey on the cheek and heading back into the lounge.
The next day he went out and bought a trap, a humane one because neither of them really wanted to clean up dead rat off the floor. Mickey seemed extra jumpy that night and received no end of teasing from Ian, even when they were lying in bed and about to fall asleep.
When they got up the next morning Ian noticed that the trap had been set off, and when he went to check it out he had to struggle to control his laughter.
“Mick! You better come in here and check this out!” he called and Mickey walked in to see him crouched down by the trap.
“Is it in there?” he asked, keeping his distance.
“Yeah, it’s in there,” he said, reaching in to take out the small cage.
He held it up with a grin and Mickey peered over to see a small grey mouse inside.
“I see why you were so terrified, it’s huge!” he teased and Mickey’s nostrils flared in annoyance.
“Well it looked bigger last fucking night,” he griped.
“It’s so small and sweet,” he said. “A big fucking rat huh?”
Ian raised an eyebrow and Mickey just grunted and stormed out of the room.
“Would you let that fucking thing go!” he shouted. “Across the road so it doesn’t fucking come back!”
Ian couldn’t get rid of his grin, staring in at the little mouse.
“My boyfriend is a little ridiculous,” he said. “Come on, before you get me in any more trouble.”
He let the mouse go by the house across the street, knowing that he would have to do a lot of making up for his teasing. Still, he had something no one could take from him; the image of Mickey standing on the table in his underwear because of such a small creature.
That was priceless.