#galladrables

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Mickey stared at the chocolate cake in front of him, trying to decipher the feeling stirring in his chest.

He remembered the first time he had ever wished for a birthday cake. He was six years old, and his mother had left a few months earlier, but before that she had spent the whole beginning of the year promising him a chocolate birthday cake.

Mickey remembered waiting for that cake. In vain.

And now here he was, looking at a cake exactly like the one he had told his husband he wanted when he was a child.

He smiled softly.

Ian would always be the one to make his wishes come true.

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@twinklyylights has the cutest prompt for @galladrabbles this week and it's got me feeling inspired! a little shout out to @whatthebodygraspsnot also for writing a cute little ficlet about mickey going to the gym so he can lift ian - i got some inspiration from this, as well! this is my first time doing a drabble, and i'm definitely not a writer, BUT i do love fluff and cuddly husbands, and i'd like to share some cute shit with y'all. anyways, please be kind <3

“Uh-uh, too tired to move to the bed, Mickey,” Ian complained, eyes closed and voice full of sleep.

“Neck’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning, man,” Mickey said, trying to convince Ian to get up. “Come on.”

Ian seemed to only settle into the couch more as Mickey was grumbling at him. Mickey looked down at his sleepy husband, who looked perfectly content to sleep with his neck all crooked.

He got up and wiggled his arms under his giant husband, scooping him up and walking him to the bedroom.

Thank you @crossmydna for such a gorgeous and glittery @galladrabbles prompt this week!

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It was Carl’s bright idea to hit the science museum’s new Precious Gems Exhibit. 

He heard from “reliable” sources that whoever got to the collection first would score a million-dollar haul.

Midnight. Carl greased a secure guard buddy, who let them in through the employee entrance.

Ski masks on, they snuck their way into the exhibit hall, case-cracking tools at the ready.

Scanning their fortune, one rock in particular caught Ian’s eye. 

Translucent, crystalline blue.

Someone moved into his periphery. He looked up and met eyes that matched the precious gem.

Ian doesn’t see the boy for a few days.

One day he is here, 

He has a black eye and a man is yelling at him. Ian hides and wants to cry because the man is pure evil, and the boy is terrified.

Finally, the man left.

The boy tries to hide his tears  and finally sees him.

He’s afraid but doesn’t move.

Something happens, a tiny spark of hope, tiny, but it's here.

The boy gives him a shy smile, and Ian can read his true aura now.

Deep blue, yellow and orange like a sunset.

It’s so beautiful!

--

At first, Mickey is smoke and mirrors: five feet, six inches of opaque bravado.

The moment before they have sex that first time is one of rare clarity: Ian looks at Mickey and knows.

The next is when Mickey finally kisses him, thoughts obvious by the nervous jitter of his lips: Morse code.

Then, Ian can’t believe he ever thought Mickey was anything but an open book:

A subtle flare of nostrils means damage control.

An aborted breath and Ian’s hands are soft on Mickey's face.

The twitch of a brow, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his mouth? 

×××

Mickey didn't want to be there.

But it was that bullshit of learning to cook or play the piano. Neither extracurricular classes interested him, but learning to cook could be useful in the future.

What the hell would he do if he learned the piano?

"Today we're going to work in pairs. Remember, since it's Halloween, today's recipe must contain pumpkin," the short teacher instructed.

Mickey swallowed, unsure where to begin, until he heard the noise behind him. He turned around.

Redhead. Tall. Freckles.

Fuck, it looked the boy had gotten pumpkin spice all over his face. The redhead smiled.

-

It was supposed to be a cake. In some distant reality where Mickey didn’t get distracted arguing with his oldest son, Charlie.

"I told you we should set an alarm."

"I don’t need the fuckin' alarm."

Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Me and the burnt cake disagree."

"Shut up, kid."

"What the hell happened here...?"

Ian’s voice cut through the argument. Mickey and Charlie lifted the tray with the burnt batter.

"Surprise!" they shouted, ignoring the smoke and the burnt smell filling the kitchen.

-

×××

It was a party, so it made sense to have a lot of noise and people shouting around, but Mickey couldn't see anything besides the redhead kneeling in front of him.

"For God's sake, Gallagher! You're not proposing to me in the middle of a fuckin’ gay event!"

Ian smiled and finally opened the velvet box he was holding. Mickey was about to complain again when Mandy interrupted him.

"Stop being an idiot and just say yes, you asshole!"

Mickey huffed in defeat before smiling shyly.

"Ya, yah... I say yes."

×××