Chapter Text
It was Mickey's first real Christmas. Every other Christmas had been filled with Terry goodness, and by Terry goodness I mean trauma. Think of him as the fucked up, drunken Santa. Instead of presents, he gives kids bruises and broken bones!
Unfortunately, Terry had installed in his children at a young age that Santa wasn't real, so they never got to believe. Mickey's mother still bought them presents when she had the ability, but Terry took the joy out of that too. He took what he wanted from the presents and pawned the rest to buy drugs.
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The conversation started off innocent enough, Mickey was small and Ian thought it would be a good time to ask the boy what he wanted for Christmas.
"Mickey baby, do you know what you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Ian asks over breakfast.
"Santa's not real!" Mickey shouts at him.
Ian pauses, he should have known.
"Now who told my baby that?" the ginger asks.
"Bad Daddy told me so." Mickey says firmly as he sets his fork down.
"He said Santa's not real." he says with his hands folded in his lap, looking down at the plate in front of him.
"He said that little sissy's parents lie to them and buy them presents and say it's from Santa, and that anyone who believes in that shit is stupid."
"Now that's not true.." Ian says in an exaggerated voice.
Mickey looks up at him.
"What's true then?" Mickey is curious.
"Santa is real in all of our hearts, see Mickey.."
Mickey nods to show he's listening.
"Because Santa Claus is the spirit of Christmas,"
Mickey's eyes widen.
"Since Santa's the spirit of Christmas, the more you believe in Christmas, the more real Santa is."
"And for the record, no one is stupid for believing in Santa, or wanting their kids to believe in Santa, okay Mickey?"
"Okay" he responds softly.
He turns to Mickey, "Now Mickey, do you believe in Christmas?"
"Uh huh" Mickey nods as he speaks.
"Okay then, you must think Santa's real then."
"I guess so.." Mickey says softly, coming to the realization.
"Do you think Santa's real Daddy?" Mickey asks.
"Mhm. Come sit with Daddy, Mickey." Ian opens his arms.
Mickey gets up from his seat to sit on the redhead's lap.
Once Mickey's all curled up and comfy, Ian begins to speak again, "Of course I think Santa's real, since I believe in Christmas, then Santa's real to me."
Mickey leans his head against his husband's chest.
He nods into Ian, "That makes sense Daddy"
Ian pauses "So," he says softly, "now that you know Santa's real, what do you want him to bring you for Christmas?" the redhead asks, readjusting Mickey in his arms.
"Hm.." Mickey ponders. He thinks very hard for a few seconds.
"I'm not sure yet"
He looks up at Ian again, "It's my first gift from Santa so it's gotta be real good."
"Of course baby, take your time" Ian certainly doesn't want to rush him.
"You're the best, Daddy" Mickey says as he cuddles up against Ian's chest once more.