Work Text:
Moments between Ian and Mickey were soft, gentle, protective. A form of communication that could only be understood by one or the other, so far from reality that anyone on the outside saw aliens, but for them, it was perfect. The moments of silence when no words were needed yet hundreds were said in a single glance, or the way a glass was set down, or a sigh as one stood up.
Moments of quiet cuddles, a tangle of limbs, unable to see where one body ends and the other began, moulded together into one imperfect being; the moments of quiet cuddles where Ian felt Mickey's breathing even out as he fell asleep on his chest.
Moments when the world felt like it was falling apart, when nothing fit together quite right, and nothing but Mickey's tough love and gentle hands could cut through the haze and make Ian see sense.
Moments when a sharp intake of breath jolted both of them awake at 4 am as memories of his father's abuse disturbed mickeys sleep once more, yet he knew he was safe the very second the pale, freckley arms wrapped around him that little bit tighter, reminding him he wasn't alone.
The slow mornings when warm tendrils of sleep wove between them, pulling them in and out of rest for hours.
The contrast of the sharp, however, was nothing short of breathtaking, when days would go from those slow mornings to something that could only be described as borderline abuse.
The moments of rough, raw passion when neither man could think clearly. The tearing off of clothes so fast that nails grazed skin and buttons went flying across the room. The moments when words were never enough, but the burning stretch of not enough lube and not enough fingers and the rough sex that followed soothed their minds to a point of clarity.
The moments of violence, an outburst from one that lead to a black eye, a slammed door, a broken glass; tears.
The night terrors when Mickey would wake up screaming, pushing at an invisible body, his brain trying once again to make him believe he was being raped again, being made to be straight again. The night terrors when only Ian lying beside him and slowly talking him down, quietly reminding him he was safe. The night terrors when all they could do was wait for Mickey to fall back asleep and hope he'd be calmer when he woke up again.
