Work Text:
Mickey can tell something is up with Ian as soon as he comes home from work. He’s not smiling as brightly as usual, and he moves sluggishly as he takes his jacket off. Even his cheeks are a little paler than usual, and Ian doesn’t immediately come say hi to Yevgeny like he always does.
“He looks terrible,” Svetlana murmurs, bouncing Yevgeny on her hip.
“I know,” Mickey mumbles, crossing his arms. “I’ll figure it out.”
Mickey moves closer to the door, greeting Ian the same way he always does: a kiss on the cheek and his arms curling around Ian’s waist. He can feel the way Ian sort of slumps against his hold, melting into the familiar touch. Up close, Mickey can see all the little details he missed before. There are dark circles stamped under Ian’s eyes, and his EMT uniform that Mickey loves is wrinkled rather than smooth.
“Hey,” Mickey smiles, not wanting Ian to know he’s worried just yet. “How was work?”
“Fine,” Ian answers quietly, offering a small smile in return. It doesn’t really meet his eyes though, and it only makes Mickey worry more.
“You okay?” Mickey asks, rubbing his arm lightly.
“Tired,” Ian replies, rubbing his eyes. “Where’s Yev?”
Mickey pretends he doesn’t notice the quick change in subject, biting his lip a little. “In the kitchen with Svet. Come on.”
The two of them go into the kitchen, and Ian takes Yevgeny out of Svetlana’s arms so she can cook easier. He holds the baby close to his chest, rubbing his cheek against his hair. He’s still being quieter than normal, just hugging Yevgeny close.
“Dinner is almost done,” Svetlana announces, pressing a kiss to Ian’s cheek. “Sit.”
Ian shrugs, carefully handing Yev back to her. “I’m really not hungry. I think I’m just gonna lay down for a little.”
Mickey frowns, now even more worried than he was before. “Are you sick? I can come with you.”
“No, no. Just eat with Svet. I’m tired and don’t have much of an appetite, I’m fine,” Ian promises, kissing his forehead. “I’m just gonna change out of my work clothes and try to sleep for a little.”
“Alright,” Mickey whispers, wanting to trust that Ian is telling the truth. “Tell me if something’s wrong though.”
Ian nods, giving them both a tired smile before disappearing into their room. Mickey slumps down in his chair, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. Svetlana gives him a look, settling Yevgeny into his highchair.
“He just wants to rest. Worrying will not make him better,” she points out, sitting across from him. “Eat dinner, then check on orange boy. He will be okay.”
Her tone is firm, but gentle at the same time, which is just what Mickey needs. He nods a tiny bit, letting her do most of the talking as he eats. He’s worried about Ian, and honestly, he has been for a few days now. Ian’s been working longer shifts and coming home exhausted, only getting a few hours of sleep before having to leave early the next morning. Mickey thought for awhile that Ian would burn out eventually, and unfortunately, today seems to be that day.
Mickey finishes up soon, sending Svetlana a grateful smile when she waves him off without having to worry about the dishes. He’s quiet as he steps into the bedroom, seeing Ian in bed. He had changed into his pajamas, and is laying flat on his back, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, but Mickey can tell he’s not asleep just by the sound of his breathing. Mickey sits on the edge of the bed, slipping his hand up Ian’s shirt when he hears his stomach grumble.
“Hey,” Mickey whispers softly, rubbing a hand over his belly. “You sure you’re not hungry? There’s tons of leftovers.”
Ian shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m not feeling good,” he finally admits. “Stomach feels weird.”
Mickey sighs, even though he had suspicions that Ian wasn’t feeling well from the start. “Why didn’t you say so?” He asks gently, wanting to make sure Ian knows he isn’t upset with him. “You feel bad all day?”
“Didn’t wanna bother you. And yes and no. Started the day fine, but it just sort of built up all day. I felt more off than anything, but now I just feel sick,” Ian mumbles.
“Alright... alright, it’s okay. What do you need?” Mickey asks him, rubbing up and down his arm.
“You,” Ian frowns, opening his eyes and looking up at Mickey. “I think I might throw up though. I don’t know.”
Before Mickey can answer, Ian sits up fast, clamping a hand over his mouth as he gags a tiny bit.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna puke right now,” Ian rushes out, sealing his lips once more.
“Fuck, okay, let’s go,” Mickey tells him, helping Ian up as quickly and gently as possible.
Luckily, they make it down the hall on time, Ian dropping down to his knees before getting sick. A normal person may cringe, but puke was no stranger if you lived on the south side. Mickey can’t even be bothered- the amount of times Ian’s had to deal with him being hungover were too many to count. Instead, he just rubbed Ian’s back, going up to his neck and back down his spine. It didn’t take long for Ian to finish, sitting up and miserably slumping against the wall.
“Okay, stay here and I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna get you something to drink,” Mickey whispers, kissing the top of his head.
He leaves their tiny bathroom, going into the kitchen. He digs around for something to settle Ian’s stomach, eventually finding a can of ginger ale and a box of crackers that were just a little stale. They should probably get more things for when one of them comes down with something, but right now, this will do.
“What is the matter?” Svetlana asks, appearing in the doorway.
“Ian’s sick,” Mickey frowns, crossing his arms. “And honestly, I don’t know what to do. It came on really fast, and I don’t think it’s even a virus. I think it’s his crazy work schedule catching up on him. He needs to relax.”
Svetlana reaches out, rubbing his arm reassuringly. “We will make sure he rests. No work for a few days. You will do good job taking care of him. If you need me, call me.”
Mickey nods slowly, biting his lip as he goes to check on Ian again. “Hey. Do you feel better now that you’re done? We can go back to bed if you want to.”
“I dunno... don’t feel as nauseous but still just bad. I want to go back with you,” Ian mumbles, a slight whine to his voice.
Mickey smiles against his will, still finding Ian completely adorable. “Alright, tough guy. Stand up for me, I’ve got you.”
The two of them make it back to bed, Ian curling up under the covers. Mickey feels his forehead, sighing softly when there’s nothing abnormal about his temperature. He’s just worked himself too hard. Mickey helps him sit up just enough to sip the ginger ale, holding it in his own hand while Ian drinks.
“Keep it slow, don’t upset your stomach. You’ve been working too hard, Ian. You’re stressed,” Mickey tells him, brushing over his cheek with his thumb. “You can’t run yourself to the ground like this. Take a few days off, maybe just the next two. Then we can worry about getting a more stable schedule. No day shifts one day and night shifts the next.”
“Okay,” Ian agrees, sort of surprising his boyfriend. He’s clearly in no position to argue.
Mickey leans down to kiss the top of his head again, climbing next to him in bed once he’s finished drinking. Crackers can wait until later. Right now, he can tell Ian just wants to be held. Mickey sits up nice and tall so Ian can lay his head on his chest, his arms wrapping around the younger boy’s waist. He carefully strokes over his sick stomach, hoping to make him feel better.
“Don’t stop, please,” Ian murmurs, always a sucker for physical touch. Especially when it’s from Mickey. “Fiona used to do this when we were kids.”
“Yeah?” Mickey asks. It seems exactly like something Fiona would do. She cares about the kids more than herself.
“Mhm,” Ian nods, nuzzling against Mickey’s neck. “All of us at one point. When I was little, maybe around 10, and she was 15, I used to crawl into her bed in the middle of night when I was sick. Lip used to get these stomachaches when he was younger from stress or some shit, and Fiona took care of him. Same with Debbie and Carl whenever they were sick. Liam too. She was the best, you know?”
“She did a good job with you guys,” Mickey agrees, tilting up Ian’s head for a kiss. “Especially you.”
Ian blushes a little, curling against Mickey’s chest again. “You’re just saying that,” he whispers. “But you’re the best boyfriend ever.”
“You’re so sappy,” Mickey chuckles, even though he’s being just as cheesy himself.
Ian laughs softly, but it turns into a wince when his stomach roils nauseously. Mickey holds him close, the way that Ian is laying allowing him to rub his stomach and massage the back of his neck at the same time. He hates that Ian is so stressed, but he’s going to do everything he can to make it better.
“I’ve got you,” Mickey murmurs, feeling so protective of Ian right now. “You’re gonna get some sleep, and then we’ll figure out how to take some of this stress off of you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Ian whispers, sighing softly.
Mickey stays with him the whole time, not wanting to move until he’s sure Ian is asleep. Svetlana wanders over after awhile, wavering in the doorway. Mickey glances over at her, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay?” Svetlana asks. “I have medicine.”
“He’s okay,” Mickey nods. “Thanks. I’ll have him take it if he wakes up. I think it’s just stress like I said. If he still feels bad though he can have it.”
Svetlana nods, leaning against the doorframe. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Mickey answers. “Just want him to be okay. I don’t like to see him hurting.”
She comes over, sitting on the edge of the bed, gently stroking Ian’s face. “He will be alright. He works very hard, loves you, loves Yevgeny. Ian is good person. We will make him better.”
“He loves you too, you know. Don’t act like I don’t hear you two gossiping in the kitchen all the time,” Mickey chuckles, although he can tell she needed the reassurance.
Svetlana smiles brightly, reaching up to gently pinch Mickey’s cheek. “I love Ian. And you, I suppose,” she grins, standing up. “I will be putting Yev to bed shortly. Call me if you need anything.”
Mickey can’t help but smile, nuzzling into the top of Ian’s head. Their family may not be normal, by society’s standards at least, but it’s theirs and it works. He wouldn’t change a thing.