Still Sleeping
Summary: When Mickey "moved in" with Ian, it took him a little while to finally get comfortable, especially at night. Ian/Mickey gay slash; Posted in response to mhunter10's prompt: "sleep-clingy! Ian fics"
Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.
I usually don't do prompts, but I was already kind of working on this one so I took it as a sign. I tried to make this a short little drabble, but it just got really out of hand. I tried not to ramble, but I'm not sure if I succeeded.
This turned out to be absolutely nothing like I originally planned. I'm not sure how I feel about how it turned out... oh well. Let me know what you think.
Most of Mickey Milkovich's life, he avoided sharing a bed with other people. He liked being able to spread out his limbs and have a whole area to himself during the night. He hated the idea of having to share. Mickey rarely fucked anyone in an actual bed, but when he did, he left as soon as they got him off. He wasn't the type to stick around and fucking snuggle like some sappy girl.
Mickey hadn't even shared a bed with his "wife" during that short time that he was married. Each night, he fell asleep in a sleeping bag that he'd laid out on the floor. It wasn't comfortable, but he hated the idea of sleeping anywhere near the Russian whore that he married, so he put up with it.
The only person that Mickey had ever willingly shared a bed with was Ian Gallagher.
Ian and Mickey had been fuck buddies since their teenage years, but Mickey hadn't been willing to admit that their relationship was anything more than that until much later. Even after Mickey had essentially moved into Ian's apartment, he refused to acknowledge that they were "living together." According to him, he just needed a temporary place to crash, because his dad and a few of his brothers had been sentenced to prison for life, and he couldn't afford to live in the Milkovich house by himself anymore. He pretended to search for another place to live, but it was all just an act. There was no place that Mickey would rather be than with Ian.
Mickey had always been good with denial though. For a long time, he had even insisted that the springy pull-out couch in the living room was his "official" place to sleep. Ian liked to refer to the bedroom as "theirs," but Mickey didn't see it that way. To him, he was still just a guest in that room.
Yet even on nights when they didn't have sex, Mickey somehow always ended up right next to Ian in bed.
Ian had come to accept the fact that Mickey needed to take things slowly for their relationship to work. Mickey might not have liked to admit that he cared about Ian, but they both knew the truth, and that's all that mattered. Mickey was trying, in his own way.
With the exception of Mickey's dad going to prison, moving in together was the best thing that could've happened to their relationship. For the first time, Mickey didn't have to worry about someone catching them together. They had a place that belonged only to them. Mickey could finally relax.
It still took time for Mickey to get used to it, however. He'd spent his entire life constantly on edge, so he wasn't about to lower his guard so easily. During the first few weeks in that apartment, Mickey had nightmares almost every time he fell asleep. It was like he was expecting something terrible to happen. Part of him feared that his dad would somehow get released from prison, and he would come rushing in, demanding to know how his son had turned out to be such a faggot. He would thrash awake, gasping and grasping at Ian.
Aside from the nightmares, Mickey also wasn't used to the physical contact. Mickey didn't hate being touched, but he wasn't a bitch. He wasn't into all that cuddling and shit. Every night, usually after a round or two of sex, he and Ian would pass out on opposite sides of the bed. Mickey was comfortable with that.
However, Ian was a clingy sleeper. He had a habit of rolling over and invading Mickey's space. He would wrap himself around Mickey and tangle their arms and legs together until he felt completely comfortable. Once he had found a spot, he didn't move very much. He didn't thrash around or kick like Mickey did sometimes. Ian always just sought out the nearest heat source and he latched onto it, never moving from his comfy spot again for the rest of the night.
Ian usually fell asleep before Mickey did, so Mickey would lie awake, unsure of what to do, as Ian pressed himself against Mickey's back. Mickey didn't feel like waking Ian up and yelling at him, so he just let it happen. Ian probably didn't even know that he was doing it anyway. Every night was the same. He slept with Ian's arms curled around him and he listened to the faint, rhythmic sound of Ian's heavy breathing behind his ear.
No one had ever gotten that close to him before. It was weird.
And somehow... it was soothing.
As time went by, things changed. Mickey stopped pretending to look for a new place to live, and he hadn't pulled out the mattress from the couch in a very long time. Mickey had slowly gotten used to Ian being there for him. He began to recognize the feeling of being happy and secure, a feeling that he'd never had before in his life. Mickey still worried a lot, and he was still very careful about who saw them together, but in private, they were finally starting to act like a real couple.
Mickey still had nightmares sometimes, but they became less frequent, and the aftereffects didn't last very long if Ian was there to comfort him. Somehow, Mickey had grown used to the feeling of Ian's heat radiating around him. Just having Ian pressed against him, still and unmoving, was enough to chase away his bad dreams.
Eventually, Mickey got so used to sleeping in the same bed with Ian that he couldn't seem to fall asleep without him anymore. Mickey would never tell Ian, but he felt warm and safe in the taller boy's arms. With him, he was able to drift to sleep all the faster.
Mickey had always hated sharing his space, but then again, Ian had always been the exception. Mickey would never forget the look on Ian's face the time that he had first called the bedroom "theirs."
Their relationship might have developed a little different than other people's, but it was still good. Time would go by and things would change, but no matter what, they would still be sleeping together for the rest of their lives.