by;BekkaChaos
Summary:
I would love a fic where Mickey's sick and Ian wants to take him to the clinic and he's like 'no, not happening' and just wants to stay home and in bed.
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Ian woke up in the morning, early enough to go for a run while there was still a chill in the air. He liked the change in the seasons and the cold weather, made jogging so much more enjoyable.
Usually he was out for about an hour, sometimes he would watch the sunrise, or take a long walk back. It cleared his head and sometimes he needed that.
When he got back he expected Mickey to be smoking in the kitchen, waiting to coax him into the shower like he did every day. The house was quiet, it was almost strange.
"Mickey?" he called, walking towards their bedroom. "Mick you up?"
He pushed the door open to see a boyfriend-shaped lump under the covers and he shook his head.
"Come on, I even took the long way home, time to get up!" he said.
Mickey grumbled, rolling over under the sheet.
"If this is your way of getting back at me for staying in bed for days all those weeks ago it's kind of rude," he said with a smile as he leant against the wall. "And your excuses for staying in bed are getting more and more ridiculous."
Mickey groaned again but didn't move and Ian rolled his eyes, climbing onto the bed and staring down at the lump.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "You okay?"
"I'm fine..." Mickey said in a low voice and Ian pulled back the covers.
Mickey was a pale, clammy mess. He flinched at the sudden light and Ian's brow furrowed, reaching out to put his hand to Mickey's forehead.
"No you're not," he said softly. "You've gotta be getting close to a hundred and four."
"Give me the fucking blanket 'm freezing..." he said, trying to pull it back over himself.
"No, come on Mick let's get you in the shower and then down to the clinic," he said, pulling the blanket back again.
"No..." he said, curling up more and shivering.
"You're sick, come on," Ian said, brushing through Mickey's damp hair a few times before getting up.
He made his way towards the bathroom to check that there was still hot water and when he came back Mickey was back under the blanket, not tucked in, just a lump under it again.
Ian sighed.
"Mickey."
"No."
"Mickey."
"I'm not going to a fucking doctor!" his muffled voice was completely adorable and Ian hung his head because even when he was sick he wouldn't be able to carry Mickey to the car.
"Well what do you want then? You hungry?"
"No..." he said pathetically.
"Come on, what do you want me to do?" he said, crawling up onto the bed and running his hands over his side softly.
He mumbled something and Ian leant in closer.
"What?"
"Just get back into bed with me?" he said and Ian pulled the blanket back a little. "No fucking doctors..."
"Okay," Ian soothed, climbing in with him and kissing the back of his head. "Shit, you're really warm."
"Freezing..." Mickey grunted.
Ian smiled, lifting the covers and snuggling in beside him. He leant his head against him and wrapped an arm around his stomach.
"You want to just stay here all day?" he asked and Mickey just grunted. "Maybe it's not so bad when you're sick, makes you easier to cuddle."
"Fuck off," Mickey said in an ailing voice.
"Oh come on," he said, squeezing him a little more. "You'll be better tomorrow."
"Yeah 'cause I'll be dead..."
Ian chuckled, kisses peppering the back of Mickey's head and his shoulder.
"You should rub my back..."
"Okay," Ian murmured. "Anything else?"
Mickey groused a little. "Fuckin' painkillers..."
"I'll go get some from the drug store," he said. "Maybe take a shower, clear you up a bit?"
"No..."
"No what?"
"Stay..."
Ian sighed. "Okay but I can't stay here and get meds for you, you do get that?"
"Find a way," Mickey grumbled, taking hold of Ian's arm and closing his eyes with an fatigued sigh.
"Alright, I'll find a way," Ian said.
He knew if he gave him a back-rub he would fall asleep in no time, then he could sneak out and get his painkillers before he even knew it.
Then again, if he took care of him too well he'd be faking sick for days after he got better.
Still, he very rarely got so sick that he refused to get out of bed and Ian was enjoying the affection.
"Thank you..." Mickey mumbled.
Ian kissed the back of his head again, pulling back a little to work his thumbs over the muscles of his shoulders and Mickey sighed.
"Go to sleep Mick, I'm not going anywhere."
