Work Text:
Outside the Gallagher house a storm raged, the wind howling and rain beating against the windows. Ian was laying on his side facing his husband and trying to fall asleep while Mickey stared up at the ceiling, his expression tense. Though Mickey tried to maintain his tough exterior, it was clear to Ian that something was bothering him. He noticed the subtle flinch when thunder rumbled overhead, the way Mickey was sighing waiting for it ot end.
"Scared of a little thunder, tough guy?" he said, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
Mickey shot him a sharp glare, attempting to brush off his vulnerability. "Fuck off.. It's just annoying the shit out of me."
Ian chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. "Really? So, you just be flinching for fun then? Must be a Milkovich thing."
Mickey's jaw clenched, his discomfort palpable. He muttered under his breath, "Why don't you mind your own fucking business, huh?"
Ian's expression softened as he reached out to brush his fingers against Mickey's arm. "Because you're my husband? If something's bothering you, I wanna know."
There were a few minutes of heavy silence, the storm raging outside. Ian waited for a response knowing Mickey would eventually give in. "Terry used to leave us outside, man." he finally whispered avoiding ians eyes. "Trying to toughen us up and shit i guess."
Ian's heart ached for his husband. He understood the lingering trauma, the fear that still haunted Mickey from their abusive past. He scooted closer, inviting Mickey into a comforting embrace. "Come here."
Mickey resisted, his walls still firmly in place. "Nah fuck that shit" he muttered, his voice laced with defiance.
Undeterred, Ian persisted, knowing that sometimes Mickey needed a little extra push to allow vulnerability. "Oh fuck off i don't need your fucking pity" he continued pushing as ian finally managed to hold him firmly but gently , helping him let down his guard.
Mickey gave in, clicking his tongue annoyed but relenting to the warmth and safety of Ian's embrace, a mix of irritation and gratitude inside him. He settled with his head on Ian's chest, still tense but finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The sound of the storm outside faded into the background as they held each other in silence.
Mickey relaxed his muscles at last and let the tension leave his body. He felt both the anger and vulnerability from his past and the love and comfort from his husband. "I hate you" he whispered not knowing neither how to process or express it.
Ian's grip tightened, his voice filled with quiet reassurance. "I know..." he whispered and kissed Mickey's hair running soothing circles down his back.
When the next thunder came Mickey didn't flinch. He was was sleeping quietly in Ian's arms, completely at ease under the weight of the blankets and his husbands comfort.