Work Text:
It’s the week before finals season. Ian knows that Mickey tends to pull all-nighters. So, he wasn’t surprised when he came home to a living room looking like a storm had bombarded it. Papers were scattered around the coffee table. There were a couple of books that were stacked and placed by the foot of the couch, and a whiteboard with scribbles lying on the floor next to his husband’s leg.
There, in the middle of the mess, was his husband. Mickey was rubbing his eyes and muttering a litany of curses as he continued to write down on a sheet of paper. It seems like he was so engrossed with his work that he only noticed Ian's presence when the redhead sat on the couch behind him.
“Hey.” Mickey greets him as he looks at him briefly. Ian didn’t fail to notice how Mickey’s eyes were squinting as he looked at the screen.
“What’re you doin’ this late?” He asks as he takes a seat beside his husband. There was a video playing on the laptop screen, and it showed some numbers and symbols that Ian was sure he’d seen once when he was in high school and a couple of times when he visited his brother, Lip, at the university.
After a couple of minutes, frustration won over Mickey. The man throws his pen on the desk as he leans back on the couch, huffing. “The fucking problem sets, that’s what. Can’t believe I wanted to do this before. Look at these!” He exclaims as he picks up a paper. It was full of his husband’s scribbles. There were cross-outs on some sections of the paper, and a corner of it was ripped off. “I’ve been trying to learn how to fucking solve this using the formula that my fucking professor gave us but for the love of fucking jesus and satan, I can’t get it right!” Mickey’s voice was rising an octave with every word that came out of his mouth, a very telltale sign of his husband’s irritability over his work, but it cracked once he was done talking.
Ian just stares at his husband. There’s nothing he can do to help him learn the topics more efficiently, considering that he never paid attention to physics when he was learning it himself. So he just pulls the raven-haired towards him and envelopes him in a hug. “Baby, you gotta calm down.”
It seems like he just said the worst thing ever because Mickey’s head snaps up. His eyes were glaring daggers at the redhead. “ Calm down ? Finals is in five days and you want me to fucking calm down ? What the fuck, Ian!” he exclaims, shoving the redhead angrily.
Ian kept his hold. “Hey, hey! Stop, alright? I’m sorry. I know that’s the stupidest thing to say but you need to fucking calm your tits man,” he places his hands on each of the latter’s shoulder and pulls him away. “The last thing you want to happen is to get sent to the fucking hospital for working yourself up so take a deep breath,” he pauses as he takes a loud deep breath. Mickey follows him. “And out,” Ian breathed out through his mouth and watched as Mickey mimicked him.
It took a couple of deep breaths before Mickey stopped shaking. This was when the tears started to fall. Ian tenses, his hold on his husband tightens as he watches thick droplets of tears rolling down the raven-haired man’s cheeks. He pulls Mickey back into his embrace, planting a kiss on Mickey’s temple as the latter sobs.
“It fucking sucks, E,” Mickey sobbed. His breath was still hitching, and his tears hadn't stopped yet. “I’ve been studying for the past two weeks, spending every single free time we’ve got from our job and school just to fucking relearn every single thing that that old man had taught us but I can’t fucking understand it!” he rants as his face is pressed against Ian’s shoulder.
If there is one thing that Ian loathes to see, it would be seeing his husband upset. Mickey Gallagher is not the ray and sunshine type of person, but he tries his best to avoid negative emotions from getting to him. Always diverting his attention to either alcohol or kicking other people’s butts. But he and Ian had made a pact, a set of rules that both had created during one of the rare times that they fought as a married couple.
- No heavy drinks.
- Never start fights with other people.
- Talk your feelings out.
So far, Mickey hadn’t been able to follow all of the rules at the same time. He still slips, mostly due to his desire to get shitfaced drunk before opening his heart out to Ian. Communication had been their recurring problem over the years they spent having an on-and-off relationship. Mickey wants to change that, he wants to become as open as he can be for his husband. And he can only do that when his brain is teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness.
But it seems like his frustration over his work is becoming stronger because the words just flow out. He tells Ian everything that made him upset over the past semester. Short deadlines, overcomplicated assignments that never show up in the fucking exams, and professors that doesn’t know how to do their job right. Every single thing that he hates about the semester came pouring out of his mouth, and by the time he was done ranting, he fell silent. Ian was listening to everything he said, giving side comments whenever he saw fit, and never breaking his hold on his husband. In fact, by the time that the raven-haired man was done, they were almost cuddling. Ian was leaning against the couch while Mickey was lying on top of the redhead.
Apart from Mickey’s sniffling, the two fell into a comfortable silence.
It was Ian who broke it. He rubs the latter’s arms as he kisses his temple. “You know, you can ask Lip for help if you’re having trouble understanding the topics.”
Mickey thinks about it for a moment before snorting. He snuggles further into the crook of his husband's neck before replying. “Eh. Knowing your brother, he would milk the shit out of it and gloat before he helps me so no thank you. I’m fine. I’ll figure this out on my own.”
The redhead frowns. Lip and Mickey have a complicated relationship due to the way they interacted when they were young. Mickey was a fucking menace, always beating people up, while Lip is a stubborn son of a bitch who has a pride as large as the South Side. There were a lot of times over the years when Ian had to meddle in, especially when their arguments turned to physical fights.
But they got over it. Before a fight could even escalate, Lip would opt to step back, while Mickey chose to keep his mouth shut. They’re civil now, and sometimes Ian catches them making fun of each other and having a decent conversation. But Ian understands why his husband is reluctant to ask his brother for help. After all, Lip can be a douchebag.
Sighing, he responds, “Alright then. Just know that you’ll have someone to ask for help.” He holds Mickey’s jaw and tilts it so he can kiss his husband on the lips.
Mickey responds, chasing the redhead’s lips whenever Ian pulls back. When they parted, they were smiling.
Then Mickey’s face dropped. He closes his eyes as he slumps back against Ian.
Ian lifts his head, shifting his position a little bit so he can get a proper look at his husband. “Hey, you alright? You look a little pale.”
The raven-haired nods, with his eyes closed. “‘M fine, man. It’s just…those problem sets are giving me a fucking headache,” he explains, pointing at the mess on the coffee table.
Ian looks at the mess for a bit, then sighs. “Maybe you need to step away from it for a bit. C’mon, let’s go to bed. It’s already late, and you still have to wake up early in a few hours.” He said as he sat up straight, taking the papers that were scattered close to him, put them in a clean stack before moving to get the others on the table and the floor.
Mickey groans as he sits up, taking his laptop. “But I still have a paper to finish. I can’t just leave it for later–”
“And you can’t just sacrifice your health for something you can work on once you’re fully rested. Come on, Mick.”
“Fine. But let me just finish this–aye! Give the fucking laptop back!” Ian didn’t listen. Instead, he bookmarks the website that Mickey was using for reference and turns off the laptop. He only gave it to his husband when the device’s screen was pitch black.
“Dickhead.” Mickey grumbles but closes the device and places it next to the pile of papers that Ian cleaned for him.
“I love you, too. Now, come on,” Ian says as he pulls Mickey by the arms, helping him stand up. “Let’s sleep before you start to get bitchy.” Before they started walking to their room, Ian looked at the table and raised his brow. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he held out his hand towards Mickey.
Mickey looked at it and frowned. “Oh fuck no.”
Ian sighs and takes the phone out of Mickey’s back pocket. “You and your fucking rules, man,” Mickey grumbled as he pushed past his husband and walked towards the bedroom.
The redhead shakes his head as he places their phones on the coffee table. It’s a rule that they religiously follow especially when one of them is having a shitty day (or night, in Mickey’s case). After reading an online article about the disadvantages of having their phones next to their beds, Ian made it a rule for them to keep their phones away. Of course, it wasn’t something that they could follow all the time, given that they still have a business to run and other stuff that might need their immediate attention, but once in a while, Ian and Mickey would detach themselves from the device and have a peaceful night together.
When Ian reached their room, Mickey was already on the bed. His clothes were all over the floor, looking like he had shed them the moment his feet touched the room floor. “Aye, Mickey,” Ian mumbles to himself as he picks up the pieces of clothing and tosses them in the hamper. Once he’s just in his boxers, he climbs up the bed and cups Mickey’s face. “Are you sure you feel alright?”
“Mmm.” Mickey nods faintly, pulling the redhead closer until he can rest his head on his husband’s chest. Now that he’s lying on their bed, Mickey can feel how exhausted he is. His body feels heavy, and with each breath he takes, he finds it hard to keep his eyes open.
He feels Ian’s run through his hair. “You’ve been working hard since this semester started, and I’m very proud of everything you’ve done and achieved. But you have to remember to rest from time to time, okay?”
“Just a few more days…” Mickey mumbled as he closed his eyes and sighed as he listened to Ian’s heartbeat.
Ian shook his head. His hand rubbed his husband’s back, lulling Mickey to sleep. “You’re so stubborn, you know that,” he said fondly as he watched Mickey struggling to keep his eyes open.
“You love it,” Mickey replied. He hums again. “Good night, E.”
Ian holds his husband tighter and sniffs him before kissing Mickey on the forehead. “Good night, Mick.”