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Summary
Ian hums, leans with his arms on the counter, but his eyes are mostly closed. He looks exhausted, and Mickey feels a pang of guilt for having woken him up, even if he didn't mean to.
"You should go back to bed," he says. "You look like you're about to keel over."
"Hm," Ian says, shakes his head. "Not if you're out here. Can't sleep."
He smiles faintly, exhales in amusement. "Okay big guy, let's go back to bed then. Maybe the tea's supposed to taste like shit and then knock me out."
"One can hope," Ian says, dragging his feet back to bed with Mickey in tow.
(...)
He plays idly with Ian's hair, which gets him a satisfied hum that vibrates against his collarbone, before Ian's breaths even out and his body gets heavy with sleep not long after. He presses a kiss to the top of Ian's head, sighs because he knows he isn't falling asleep tonight. He can just tell. He closes his eyes anyways, tries to ignore how they sting from how tired he is, and breathes.
And breathes.
And breathes.
And doesn't fall asleep.
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Or, Mickey suffers from a bout of insomnia. It gets worse before it gets better. -
Bookmark Notes:
✅️
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Bookmark Notes:
Extremely sweet. The way they cuddle in bed, the way Ian takes care of Mickey, them eating break fast at the end.