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naaaaayyyhaay · 2 years

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GGE2022 ;)

Hello!

A GGE2022 for @imikhailotakeyouian , definitely a stickler for details and an imperfect perfectionist so i apologize for the long wait😭 I really hope you enjoy your gift tho!! (i do intend to post it on AO3 too, so i'll come back and link it here when i get the chance💫)

And a very big thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting this years exchange❣️

Rated: M

Words: 3,330

Prompt: "Ian finally takes Mickey to the beach

Social media!AU

Any AUs/anything Gallavich makes me happy really"

Tags: fluff, toothrottingfluff, jealousy, jealous!ian, domesticity,postcannon, soft!mickey

Mickey's head is killing him, his eyes are lidded and tinged red from constant rubbing and his whole body feels like it's moving through a thick jello, leaving him weighted and slow. He had Ian to blame for this. To blame for his excessive tiredness. He was awoken this morning at 5am to an extra giddy Ian, rushed in the shower, and forced to leave by 6am(without a morning quickie he might add). And this all would've been unforgivable, an absolute injustice, if Mickey wasn't about to board a flight to Jamaica to go lounge drunk on their famed nude beaches with his very sexy husband Ian for their anniversary. And even if he tried, he couldn’t deny it, the fact that Ian is just so thoughtful. Surprising Mickey with an impromptu beach vacay for the second time in a row now. So as Mickey entered the airport with an utterly delighted husband hot on his trail like an overly excited puppy he couldn’t help but to think back to their first attempt at a beach trip…

"Mickey... Mick... get up. C'mon sleepy head."

"Gallagher” Mickey grumbled as he fought back a yawn and squinted through sleepy eyes. “It's like four in the morning man, can't this wait?"

"Mick it's literally twelve in the afternoon."

"Oh. Same difference." he muttered as he rolled over and nuzzled his pillow attempting to drift back off into sleep.

"Mick seriously, get up." Ian laughed as he shook his husband and wrapped his arms around him squeezing him tight.

"I swear I'll make it worth your while.” He says voice is sultry and inviting, practically dripping with honey.

"You really waking me up for a morning quickie Mr. Milkovich." Mickey replied with playfulness evident in his tone.

"No Mr. horny, I've got a surprise for you." He said, flicking Mickey on the nose and then hushing it with a soft kiss.

"A sexy surprise?" Mickey asked incredulously.

"Well... sorta," said Ian.

"This is n o t a sexy surprise." Mickey said, as he stared at what looked to be the world's most polluted beach. Or y'know just your regular average Southside public beach.

“Yeah I didn’t really expect it to be this…” Ian trailed off disgust and a bit of disappointment written plain on his face. The wind was loud in their ears, whistling the classic tune of ‘Get The Fuck Back Inside, It’s Too Damn Cold For This Shit’. A tune Mickey never ignored.

“Hey freckles, just in case you didn’t get the memo, it’s like below zero temperatures outside.”

“No it’s not, Mick. It’s like thirty degrees at worst.” Ian shot back.

“Okay, well I don’t know how you plan on doing this beach day at the start of March, genius.” Said Mickey.

“Don’t worry, we can just come back in the summer.” Mickey said, discerning his husband's disappointment and pulling him into an embrace mostly to console him but also to steal some of his body heat. Ian didn’t mind, what Mickey didn’t know was that his thoughts were already elsewhere.

“Yeah okay, you may be right.” Ian huffed a small laugh, finally giving in to the shiver that he was holding back as if somehow that would mean admitting defeat and accepting that it actually was in fact very cold.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, Mick.” and that was the end of that. Or so Mickey thought.

One Year Later.

"This is gonna be great, Mick!" Ian exclaims, beaming ear to ear after fighting back another yawn.

"We're gonna go straight to the beach!" He has one arm wrapped around his short thug of a husband and in the other holds both his and Mickey's carry-on. It wasn’t a short impromptu vacation that Ian had planned at the very last minute, but it was much better. He figured their armed transportation business was doing pretty well and they had saved up a ton of extra money in the bank, and Mickey had just been working so hard with all the managing and security work and shit that hey, why not give themselves a little treat, right?

"We gotta check in and unpack first, dummy." Mickey says with mock annoyance. He hates to admit it but all Ian’s excitement was actually quite adorable. It reminded him of how Ian was back in their earlier days when they had just first started seeing each other in secret, fooling around in the back of the Kash&Grab, and sneaking underneath the bleachers.

"I know that already, sweetheart." Ian coos, ever since the start of their anniversary month he had picked up this funny little habit of responding to Mickey's attitude with over the top affection. Mick playfully bops him on the nose before they board their plane and settle into their seats. Without even waiting for any of the other passengers to board Mickey reclines his seat and places a sleeping mask askew over his eyes, planning to drift off into snooze-ville before the plane takes off. He takes one last peak at his studious Ian seated beside him, nose already buried in some book, before pulling his mask securely into place and dozing off. Well, dozing off for about five minutes before he was so rudely interrupted by a quiet

"Excuse me."

For god knows what reason, some stupid mix up with the tickets or whatever, Mickey was in the wrong seat and some fuckhead standing in front of Ian would like him to move. Or at least that's what he’s gathered from listening in to the conversation happening right beside him with some stranger and his husband.

“Absolutely not.” Mickey deadpans. Believe it or not he actually didn’t mean to come off as aggressive for once in his life, but Ian had woken him up waaaay too early. Trip or not Milkovich’s don’t get up before noon on a weekend, and he was already nicely settled into his seat and too comfy to migrate down the plane having to brush shoulders with a bunch of randos with morning breath probably.

“C’mon, Mick.” Ian sighs, already exasperated.

“It’s only a couple seats down, let’s just move.” He says as he nudges Mickey’s shoulder, probably giving him the ‘please let’s not make a scene just this once’ puppy dog eyes, but his magic can’t work on his husband this time seeing as how Mickey still has his eyes shielded with his sleepmask.

“M’not moving Gallagher. Already comfy. Can’t shithead just sit in the already free seat?” Mickey asserts.

“Not moving from my window seat.” He repeats once more and crosses his arms over his chest in defiance.

“Actually it has nothing to do with wanting a window seat, as it happens I actually prefer the aisle.” Came the stranger’s voice.

“It’s just that they seated me in a window seat right at the front, with all this legroom and empty space and it’s making me a little nervous.” He forces out a chuckle, obviously embarrassed but still trying his best to make light of the situation.

“Like the opposite of claustrophobia I guess, if that makes any sense?” The strange man laughs.

“No, it actually doesn't.” Mickey grumbles.

“I’m a nervous flyer and I guess it just makes me feel safer to be compressed.” Suddenly Ian’s body language shifts, he sits up right and turns to face the stranger.

“Say no more, I’ll switch with you.” Ian declares like he’s doing the guy some big favor, but Mickey doesn’t need to look at his husband to know that there is a goofy little grin plastered on his face. But Mickey does in fact dramatically rip off his night mask to shoot Ian a death glare. One that says ‘how dare you abandon me?!’without even having to utter a word.

“Wait, so you’re giving up a window seat and extra leg room?” He asks, almost in disbelief. The younger skinny stranger nods with extra enthusiasm, as if he was a salesman trying to seal a deal.

“You’re welcome to join me at any point, darling.” Ian replies all coy and shit as he closes his book and shimmies out of his seat and down the cramped plane aisle, just to end up sitting about two seats in front of his husband.

‘We can get through this right?’ Mickey thinks to himself as anxiety, and of course a total fucking stranger, start to settle in. `We've been separated by bars, by Terry, and even the Mexican border! There’s no way I’m panicking over a couple of plane seats!’ But here they are, literally just some old couple reading in silence and a jaded looking woman with her equally moody teenaged daughter placed in the rows between them. And on the inside Mickey’s mind is racing with thoughts like… ‘How could my husband do this to me? Wow, the ultimate betrayal. Now I have to move… but I’m already so comfy. You know what, he’ll just have to sit all by his lonesome then. Not my fault he decided to ditch me. Now I’m stuck sitting next to some weirdo for the rest of this dumbass flight, so serves him right anyways.’ But as the minutes pass Mickey surprisingly lets his curiosity get the better of him and he moves his night mask a little to get a peak at the so-called weirdo in question. And as he glances over he meets eyes with a young man who is practically swallowed up by his own large gray hoodie which almost distracts him from the man’s surprising striking features. Dark green eyes, razor-edged cheekbones, what seemed to be a small brown beauty mark above the left side of his upper lip and… Wow, what a crazy fucking coincidence, because as the stranger turned to meet Mickey’s gaze his hoodie pulls back just enough revealing fiery auburn hair. ‘Dude is totally stunning and a redhead?!’ Mickey thinks. ‘Oh my god he's just like a younger version of my husband!’ And as they share a quick smile Mickey is again reminded of how totally hopelessly in love with Ian he really is. ‘I wonder if he's a natural redhead..? Well, we're gonna be on this plane ride for a while so… there’s probably no shame in asking, right?’

Ian on the other hand, who was at one point as cool as a cucumber waiting for Mickey to get up and switch seats, is now a bit of a nervous wreck. Because ‘Why hasn't Mickey switched seats yet? Could he possibly be distracted? Maybe I should get up and remind him, or-’ But as he finally decides to go back and beg his husband to come join him the plane departs and he is forced to try to make peace with the fact that he won’t be riding beside Mickey. And yeah he might be more than a little upset, but then he thinks about how Mickey must be annoyed with his new plane mate, so he tries to focus and listen to see if he can hear Mickey being irritated by the poor talkative fool. “Oh a redhead, is that all natural or you get that outta ten dollar Revlon box?” He hears his husband chuckle. ‘A redhead?!’ Ian thinks, his brain sounding off alarms. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Ian, that doesn’t mean anything.’ he thinks to himself as he tries his best not to, but he can’t help the red hot burn of jealousy throbbing deep in his chest no matter how hard he tries to fight it back with logic. With each hour passing he feels his anger slowly start to bubble to the surface and just as he's about to explode the pilot announces that the plane will be landing and soon passengers will have started to depart. So out of the "greater good of his heart" Ian ends up deciding that he's just being paranoid and that the guy chatting up his husband is in fact just being friendly and nothing more. So Ian decides to let it go, it’s not like he wants to ruin this first trip alone with his husband anyway. So when the plane lands he makes sure to love up on Mickey from the airport all the way to the hotel check in and and to the beach.

"I'm telling you Mick, you need to reapply your suntan lotion! It's been two hours, and the bottle says to apply at least every hour!" Ian nags. And yeah he nags, but it’s with love, so sue him!

"Nah, they just want you to buy more of their shit. Anyhow, I'm not as pale as your ghostly ass, you should be the one worried about sunscreen here Mr. I burn like a vampire in the daylight.” Mickey chuckles.

“And if you don't come here, you're gonna miss seeing this crab, man. Little guy’s fascinating! Think he's looking for a new house!" Mickey babbles, crouched down in the sand, a half smoked joint pitched between his fingers. He was already a shade tanner and his eyes were a lazy tinge of red. Mickey was so beautiful like this. Relaxed, a little buzzed, and off in his own little world no longer burdened by the traumas that once plagued their love like Terry or prison or shitty sadistic PO’s.

"I want to see him too, baby, but you're gonna bitch all night if you get burned! Come on, it'll only take a sec."

"Nah, man. That shit s'all sticky and cold. It fucks with my high, and I might miss when Mr. Krabs finds his new house! If I burn then I burn, bitch!"

"You named the crab Mr. Krabs?” Ian giggles as he stares at the little guy who seems to have stolen his husband’s full attention.

“Not Shelly or Pincher or somethin’, you’re really going with Mr. Krabs?" Ian laughs.

“Yep.” Mickey says grinning up at his big orange giant.

“How original, Mick.” snickers Ian.

“Hey, I’m on vacation. I don’t need to be creative on vacation. I don’t need to be anything on vacation but good and high.” He takes another drag of his joint before placing it in the tiny ashtray he brought along with him and then grabs Ian and pulls him down onto him, startling and exciting him in the process.

“Well high, and on top of my husband of course.” the Milkovich says with that same flirty tone of voice that never fails to make Ian’s stomach do summersaults. And it takes every ounce of self control in his body to tear himself from Mickey when his phone rings and he knows that it’s either another goddamn ‘family emergency’, or it’s something work related that ‘just can’t wait’.

So, much to Mickey's dismay, Ian sits in the sand and answers a call from Kev regarding the transportation business while Mickey takes it upon himself to avoid work at all costs and nap beside Ian looking all cute. And by god’s name it takes everything in Ian to not just stare in awe at his beautiful husband laying face down drooling just a little on his beach chair looking very much double cheeked up in his tight blue swim trunks. ‘So blue that they almost match the blue of his damn near mesmerizing eyes, but not quite because the blue in his eyes is just too beautiful that no man-made creation could ever recreate that specific color that is Mickey and oh shit he's staring, and oh shit he's definitely waking up now…’

“Hey, there,” Mickey murmured.

“Hey, sunshine,” was all Ian could say. Still a bit stunned by Mickey’s unwitting beauty.

“Sunshine?” Mickey raises a brow.

"What's up with all the mushy gushy shit, huh lover?" he asks with a sleepy laugh, finally deciding to call it out.

In response, Ian reaches up to brush his fingers against his husband’s cheek, his once pale face now a bit bronzed and heated by the sunlight spread over them.

“You just got a bit of sun on your face, thas all. Also chair marks,” Ian moves his hand to the opposite side, feeling the faint lines pressed into his lover’s skin.

“Meanwhile you look like you’ve been very busy, real important business I see.” Mickey laughs.

“You should get some rest there, Red. Must be real tired after all that hard work playing in the sand and whatnot.” but Ian knows it’s not an insult, nor is his tone heated. He actually sounds content. So Ian huffs a small laugh in response and wraps his long arms around Mickey’s waist, burying his face into the soft part of his stomach and purring like a cat in the sun.

“Thank you for your concern, but a nap is the last thing I wanna do right now.” He mutters into Mickey’s stomach.

“Ohh, so you trying to get back to the hotel then Mr. Milkovich.” Mickey asks with a smirk. And Ian doesn’t even honor such a stupid question with such an obvious answer, and instead he grabs Mickey by the hips and hoists him up out of his beach chair and kisses him with a burning desire.

“Okay. Hotel. Now.” Mickey says, lips bitten and red, eyes a little glazed over with lust.

Hand in hand they walk along the sandy beach, enjoying the warm sun and the cool ocean breeze, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore providing a soothing background noise as they make their way back to the resort. "This is amazing," Ian says, interrupting the silence and smiling as he looks out at the ocean. "I can't believe we're actually here." and somehow Mickey knows that he’s not just talking about being here on the beach. But here. Together at last.

Eventually they make it to the hotel and quickly they rush their way through the entrance and make a beeline straight for the elevators, but before they can even make it past the hotel bar Ian is suddenly blind sighted by his actual worst nightmare. They’re greeted by none other than Mickey’s plane mate.

“Mickey? Hey! How’s it going?” He smiles brightly, too damn bright if you asked Ian, and makes his way over completely uninvited.

“Oh, hey. Brett? Right?” Mickey replies, thumbing at his brow.

“Brandon actually.” The man laughs, seemingly unfazed by Mickey's lack of gentility.

“So… this is crazy huh, I thought I had seen the last of you. Thankfully I was wrong though.” says Brett or Brandon or whoever.

“What’re you doing right now? I mean, I am working but I could definitely make you a drink. My shift ends in a bit actually.” And this time Ian knows that he's blatantly flirting with Mickey and there’s just no way he can hold his anger back now.

"He's married! To me! He's my husband!" Ian exclaims angrily, red in the face, a scorching rage igniting in his emerald eyes and permeating through his entire body as he grabs Mickey by the hand before getting in between him and plane guy. All it takes is one look and Mickey can see it in Brett’s(or Brandon’s or whoever’s) face that he has no intention of pushing back against Ian, and he watches as the poor guy basically folds up into a shell of himself and just embarrassedly backs off. So Ian doesn’t wait a second and finally drags Mickey into the elevator and up to their hotel room but on the way up Mickey just can’t help but to tease him.

"Don't know what came over ya back there, firecrotch." Mickey laughs breathlessly, lips pressed lightly into that spot on Ian’s neck that he knows just drives him wild. Ian groans and kneads the thick flesh of Mickey’s ass fitted perfectly into his palms. He places a couple more wet kisses to his neck and up his jawline before biting his lip and pulling back to look at the absolute mess he’s made of his husband.

"Can't say I didn't like it though."

#GGE2022 #fanfiction

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