Something I’ve had in my mind for a while, so I did a little speed-write:
When he gets back from his therapist, Mickey’s on the couch with his laptop open in front of him.
He doesn’t make a big deal of anything, just looks up, smiles and asks how it went. Today it wasn’t too taxing, just one of the fortnightly appointments that they can afford now. Ian smiles back.
“It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Mickey looks up from the laptop, paying full attention.
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. It was fine, really. Nothing huge.” He says, because nothing huge was revealed, nothing huge was said. Therapy just takes a lot out of him energy-wise.
“Okay.” Mickey replies, placing a hand on his knee, squeezing, and then returns to the screen.
“What are you looking at?” Ian asks, trying to peak.
“That stupid shit you like. Pin Interest or whatever the fuck.”
Ian rolls his eyes. “You like it, Mick. And I know you know it’s called Pinterest.”
Mickey shrugs.
“So, what are you looking at on Pin Interest?” He smirks and Mickey snorts.
“Tattoo ideas. I was thinkin’ of getting another one.” Mickey’s gaze is laser focused as he scans through images, saving some and scowling at others as if they personally offend him.
Ian’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Where do you want it?” He tries to picture his husband with more tattoos and very much likes the image. He likes his current ones too much to not want him to get more.
“I dunno, man. Some sleeves are cool. But they take ages to build up. Maybe just one on my shoulder to start.”
“That sounds good.” Ian tries to get closer, but he still can’t really see what Mickey’s looking at. “Can I see?” He asks, pointing at the device.
Mickey sighs like he’s the most annoying fucker on the planet, but he tilts the screen towards him anyway.
He can see now that Mickey’s searched up ‘black tattoo shoulder men’ and there are just piles on piles of buff men with shoulder tats.
“I like the snake one.” Mickey tells him, pointing at the picture he means. It’s a serpent winding around the top of the guy’s arm, tangling together and going down to the bottom of his bicep.
“Yeah, that one’s cool.” Ian agrees. “What about that one?” He points at one with a fine lined dragon reaching onto the guy’s peck.
“I guess, but I don’t want it too thin, you know? When they do it too intricate, the lines all blur together.” Ian hums in assent.
“Show me what you already have saved.”
Mickey clicks through the website, and Ian catches a glimpse of his pre-existing boards before he goes to the tattoo one. There’s one called ‘wedding’ and one called ‘apartment’ and one called ‘dope shit’. The cover photo of ‘dope shit’ is an aesthetic image of two beers and two cigarettes clasped in two hands. Ian’s not really surprised that this is what Mickey considers to be ‘dope shit’.
In the folder is a lot of similar things. Snakes, dragons, one cat with bat wings. One looks like a weird cross between a gun and a dagger. They’re all pretty hot, and Ian tells him about his favourites.
“I was thinkin’ of drawing it myself. I don’t wanna just copy what someone else has.”
“What did you do for this one?” Ian asks, grasping Mickey’s forearm.
“Drew it.” He explains simply, eyes not leaving the screen.
“Yeah? It’s good. You should draw the next one, too then.”
Mickey hums in agreement but continues to browse the website, probably looking for ideas.
Ian clicks on the TV, starting up an episode of New Girl while Mickey’s distracted.
They sit in peaceful silence for a while, until Mickey speaks again.
“There’s a tattoo place up the street. The reviews seem good. Don’t wanna go somewhere if they’ll just fuck it up.”
“That’s true.” Ian pauses. “If you’re getting one, I might get one too.”
Mickey raises his eyes brows in that expressive way of his. “You want a new tat? Fuckin’ copy cat.” He grumbles, but with the way he looks Ian up and down he can tell he’s not opposed.
“Yeah, been thinkin about it for a bit.”
“Oh yeah? What you thinkin, tough guy, I’ll look up some ideas.” Mickey suggests, already looking back at ‘Pin Interest’.
“Don’t worry, I already know what I want.”
When he doesn’t say more, Mickey huffs impatiently. “Gonna keep me waiting all night or what?”
Ian smirks and leans forward. “I was thinkin’ of an ‘MM’ tattoo, right here.” He tells him, pointing at a spot on the inside of his wrist.
Mickey looks surprised, and fond, and happy all at once. Even so, he tuts at him. “Tshc, you don’t have to do that just because I got your name.”
Ian rolls his eyes. “I fuckin’ know that, dork. I like the idea of having a more permanent thing than the rings.”
“Yeah, coz you keep fuckin’ losing your rings.”
“Well I’m sorry I don’t want it to fall down a drain or something, Mick.” He laughs, exasperated. “But a tattoo won’t fall down the drain.”
Mickey looks at him, and he’s so happy that Ian can’t help but wind their fingers together.
“You don’t want it to look like Mandy Milkovich, though. Gotta get my middle initial, too.”
“Wouldn’t her initials be ‘AM’? For Amanda?” Ian raises his eyebrows. Mickey scrunches his.
“Oh yeah.”
“You hate your middle name, anyway. And ‘MAM’ looks like I got something for my mum, I want this for you.”
“Yeah, you already got those titties for Monica.” Mickey jokes lightly and Ian pushes his side.
<3333
i might write a next part, where they actually go get them!
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Galladrabbles #123 - Blur
Hi happy birthday to me, I wrote something not angsty!!! New year, new look, new Keely✌🏻
Thank you @callivich for this week's @galladrabbles prompt!!
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It’s been one hell of a honeymoon, a blur of intertwined bodies, slow kisses, every kind of sex a man could imagine.
It’s checkout day, and Ian’s hopes of sleeping in and savoring the last few hours of relaxation have been interrupted by a gnawing sense of stress about everything they have to do before they go.
He sighs, looks over at Mickey, and holy shit, they’re married. Mickey’s his husband, and he gets to wake up next to him every single day for the rest of their lives.
The stress melts away at the promise of mornings with Mickey.
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