Work Text:
Emil wakes up alone for the first time in weeks.
He blinks his eyes open slowly, lifting the duvet off his body to wiggle around until he’s facing away from the window and looking to where his personal heater should be.
There’s no softly snoring, brow-furrowed, over-protective, violet-eyed Italian man laying next to him. No arm draped over him, or fingers loosely gripping his own. No tanned hairline or nose for Emil to drowsily kiss in a silent greeting.
Emil squints at the empty space of crumpled sheets, reaching a hand out to touch the covers. Still warm. Where could Mickey have gone?
He’s frowning a little, before he props himself up on his elbow to look around the room.
The cold, pale gray hue of morning light creeps into Michele’s apartment through the cotton curtains with rays of the winter sun peeking through the cracks between the window and the cloth of the curtains, casting stilted, blinding rectangles of light across the wooden floor.
Despite the goosebumps that crawl up Emil’s bare arms and chest, his curiosity of his boyfriend’s whereabouts get the better of him. He dangles his legs over the edge of the bed, scooting forward until his feet touch the cool floor. He looks around for one of his sweatshirts, but gives up when he sees Mickey’s official Italy skating foundation hoodie hanging invitingly from the coat hanger.
Mickey won’t mind if I tell him that I was cold…especially since he was gone in the first place, Emil smiles somewhat mischievously to himself as he stands and begins to head over to the coat hanger by the entrance of the bedroom.
Emil pads across the floor, rubbing his upper arms to suppress his shivers. He grabs the hoodie, quickly stuffing his arms through the holes and zipping the hoodie up most of the way. He lets out a small satisfied sigh at the warmth, a blissed smile spreading across his face at the familiar musk of his boyfriend.
Pushing the door open to the rest of the apartment, Emil looks around until he sees a brightly colored sticky note pinned to the fridge with the magnet with the picture of the two of them on the Skate America podium together. Emil walks closer, his smile spreading further and his chest clenching a little at how happy he feels when he looks at the photo from the past season.
For a moment, he forgets to read the note and just studies the photo. Mickey’s grin is so large in the photo that his eyes crinkle shut, his hand clutching the gold medal slung around his neck. His arm is thrown around Emil’s shoulders, with Emil stepping onto Mickey’s podium to kiss Mickey’s temple, Emil’s hand holding his bronze medal to the side and his lips threatening to burst into a proud smile.
Finally, Emil’s eyes drop down to the actual note, the remnants of a smile playing on his lips as he reads.
Emil- Left to get espresso for us down at the kiosk by the marketplace. I’m hoping you sleep in so that you don’t wake up without me, tesorino. If you do and happen to read this note, don’t eat breakfast before I get back because I’m picking up muffins.
-Mickey
Emil blushes and continues to smile at the endearment written in Mickey’s harsh, quickly hand-writing. His hand unconsciously rises up to trail his pointer finger over tesorino, before he drops his hands into his pockets and faces the lifeless apartment, letting his eyes trail over all of the photos of Mickey and Sara, Mickey and him, Mickey, him, Sara, and Mila. He walks closer to Mickey’s wall of photos, his smile fading with each spot on the wall where there was clearly once a frame.
Emil remembers that night a little more than a week ago, Michele storming into the apartment, his face grim and his lips set in a firm line as the tears fell slowly down his face. He remembers the panic that bloomed in his chest as Mickey ignored his startled questions and comforting touches as Mickey ripped down every frame with his family in it.
Emil’s eyes haze over, his brows pinching together and one of his hands coming up to rub anxiously at his beard. He can’t help the torrent of guilt that comes with looking at each clean, bright rectangular spot on the wall with the unfaded paint from the frames that were once placed there.
If I didn’t pursue him, Mickey would still have his parents and his aunts and uncles and… Emil’s thoughts trail off, and he moves to curl up in the corner of the couch, tucking his chin in to smell Mickey on the jacket to rationalize his thoughts.
He knows what Mickey would say. To stop thinking the nonsense that he was, and that it was Mickey’s choice to leave the family.
But Mickey had always been a family man, and undoubtedly missed his family.
But Mickey undoubtedly loved him at the same time. Emil could feel it with each passing glance or brush of skin. With each time that Mickey reached out his hand to take Emil’s in his own, Emil knew that he was loved. Each time that Mickey left a note instead of just shaking him awake or leaving a text, or when he stayed to comfort Emil over a bad performance instead of going out to watch Sara.
He knew that Mickey loved him unequivocally, but to give up his family…
His thoughts are interrupted with the jingling of keys and the sound of rubber shoe soles walking softly on hardwood. Mickey walks around the corner from the entryway, carrying a paper bag under his arm and two to-go cups in his hands.
He has on a dark navy V-neck sweater, black jeans, and Converse that he’s in the process of quietly toeing off instead of untying like he should be doing, as Emil keeps reminding him. His cheeks are red, presumably stung from the winter breeze that followed him inside, and his eyes are soft and warm and thoughtful. His lips are curved in a gentle, nearly undetectable smile, and it makes Emil’s heart flutter the same way that it did the first time he found himself noticing that secretive smile.
He loves him. So much so that getting him coffee and a muffin for breakfast has him smiling and tearing up just a little bit.
“I love you,” Emil says quietly from his corner of the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his feet tucked under himself. His close-lipped smile is met at first with surprise, then with a smirk in return.
“I didn’t think you’d be out of bed,” Mickey says drily, walking over after succeeding in kicking off his sneakers. He kicks the automan out of the way so that he could sit next to Emil. Emil takes one of the coffees from Mickey’s hand, knowing that it’s the same order and takes a small sip before resting his head on Mickey’s shoulder and pulling the cup protectively to his chest.
Mickey hums before kissing the top of Emil’s head, leaving his face nuzzled into his hair for a moment before sighing and taking a sip from his own cup.
Emil eyes slide down to look at his cup and he nibbles his bottom lip, knowing that he should just be satisfied, just accept the coffee and the muffin as answer enough, but…
“Mickey, if you felt like you had made the wrong decision, you would be honest with me, right?”
Silence follows his question, and at first Emil thinks that Mickey’s mad at him. Then he pulls away and straightens his back to meet Mickey’s eyes only to see confusion clouding his expression, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow.
“I don’t know what specifically you’re talking about, but I’m always honest with you, so I guess,” Mickey said slowly, answering the question hypothetically. His brows furrowed more when he saw Emil’s upset frown. He carefully placed his coffee on top of the tray on the automan before turning back to Emil, his eyes dark with worry, “Dolcezza, what happened? Why are you upset? Did I-“
Emil shook his head vigorously, already regretting bringing it up and forcing a smile on his face. It was strained and toothy and lacking what Mickey dubbed his “classic Czech cheer”, but he continued to attempt to wiggle his way out of the situation that he had made. “No, it was just a question.”
Mickey’s eyebrow twitched upward, unsatisfied. He can tell the difference between Emil’s smiles. Emil had a million smiles, and all of them expressed something unique in their own way. Like this smile. This smile screamed “FAKE AND DESPERATE” to Mickey.
Emil’s smile flinched away at that eyebrow and unyielding expression of worry, knowing that Mickey wouldn’t give up now that he had seen that frown on Emil’s face. Emil sighed, dropping his head to look down at his hands.
“W-Would you tell me if you regretted choosing m-me over your family?”
Ah, there was the silence that Emil had expected the first time.
The thick, unforgiving silence that stole his breath from his chest and slowed the circulation in his body so that he swore he could feel each rush of blood being pumped. His fingers twitched, and he dared not to look up at Mickey’s expression.
Not even when two warm, barely calloused, big hands came up to cup his cheeks.
Nor when after another heartbeat went by and the only sound was Mickey’s steady breathing and Emil’s shaking one.
“Look up at me, tesorino,” Mickey murmured, his thumbs brushing over Emil’s cheekbones with a silent plea. After another moment of not moving, Mickey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead before sitting back again, his thumbs brushing over his cheekbones once more.
Emil gave in, looking up nervously. His breath stilled in his throat at the heartbreakingly gentle warmth in Mickey’s eyes. Mickey let his lips quirk up into a small smile before pulling his hands away from Emil’s face. He reached with one hand to take one of Emil’s hands into his own, leaving the other to gesture as he spoke.
“When I went to speak with my parents about the love of my life, they were happy for me. Beyond happy, they were elated at the prospect of a person that actually made me want to smile besides Sara,” Mickey smile grew for a moment, his eyes distant as he recalled his experience. Emil watched his expression nervously, squeezing Mickey’s hand a little tighter.
“The moment that I said your name, they asked if you had introduced me to her,” he laughed humorlessly, but his eyes cleared again, and met Emil’s. “They couldn’t comprehend why your name would be in this conversation. Why any him would be in the conversation for that matter. So I explained it to them.”
Mickey went silent, searching Emil’s wide and warm blue eyes for a moment, as if they could give him the answer to any trouble that he ever came across. He drew in a breath, then gave a shaky, but honest, smile.
That smile made Emil’s throat tighten.
“Emil, if they don’t want you in their lives, then they don’t want me,” Mickey stated, his voice blunt, but soft enough for Emil to carry the weight of his sincerity. “I’d spent far too many years protecting my sister, fearing that she was the only connection to love for me outside of my parents. Honestly, without her shouting at me at the Rostelecom Cup two years ago, I don’t know if I would have opened my heart to you.”
“To take you away from me now, would be similar to taking either of us away from skating. Nobody can. It’s a part of us. And every bit of this,” Mickey held his free hand over his heart before moving it over Emil’s, “Belongs here now. And it’s not just a matter of that. If they can’t accept me for who I am, then…I don’t see much point in living up to what they want me to be instead of who I am.”
Mickey retracted his hand, waiting for Emil’s response. Emil’s eyes had grown wider, and Mickey fought the urge to laugh at his boyfriend’s cartoonishly astonished face.
Emil shook his head a little bit out of amazement, leaning forward to set his coffee next to Mickey’s before leaning back into his seat and pulling their hands into his lap. After a while of processing what Mickey had said, Emil’s smile was so wide and bright that Mickey couldn’t help but grin back.
Emil leaned forward, his hand cupping Mickey’s jaw. “Come here you sappy, romantic, serious nerd,” he murmured through his smile before kissing him, having to fight the urge to smile the entire time that Mickey kissed him back.
Emil pulled back and Mickey opened his eyes. This time Emil’s smile screamed “genuine” and “love” and that smile made Mickey push Emil back against the couch to kiss him harder and longer.
Before he can get into it, Mickey leans back and meets Emil's confused eyes, smiling playfully. "I love you too, by the way."
Emil can taste the espresso on Mickey’s lips and he decides he wouldn’t have his morning any other way.