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[whatthebodygraspsnot]

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” additional tags: (wrongly) assumed infidelity, miscommunication that gets resolved, this must be an au bc mickey would obv never interrupt his own sleep to leave the apartment

Mickey steps carefully into their apartment, taking great care to shut the door without being too loud. He closes it with barely a click. But nothing can prepare him for what happens next.

When Mickey turns, it’s like he’s stepped right into a 90s romantic drama, the single floor lamp clicking on to shine in a perfect spotlight, revealing where his husband is very much awake, and very much waiting for his return.

He’s sitting on the couch. Tucked up in his bathrobe and the most unimpressed frown.

“Fuck.”

“Who is he?”

Mickey glances from left to right. Behind himself. Looks at Ian again, his heart still pounding in his chest from the startle. “Who’s who?”

“Don’t gimme that.” And now Ian’s standing up, gathering his robe around himself as he prepares to fire off The Chin. “You disappear every night - yes, I noticed,” he states before Mickey can interrupt. “Bring a bag with you… Come home sweaty… I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re fucking bad at hiding this, Mickey.”

It takes a second for everything to sink in. For the endorphins from the last couple hours to start pumping upward into his brain this time. 

And… Damn.

Ian caught him.

To be perfectly honest, Mickey thought he was getting away with this shit - was being real cagey and everything too - even getting a shower in before sliding back into bed with him.

“Two hours. That enough to meet up with him and do what you gotta do?”

Meet up with who? Yeah right. “You think I can get somebody out at this hour?” Mickey asks, his confusion starting to put him on edge. “Been doing this shit all on my own. Well-... I mean ‘cept for the other handful of guys who show up sometimes…”

And the way Ian’s eyebrows rise is almost as startling as how he stops in his tracks, repeating the words back to him with dragged out intensity. “‘Handful of guys’...?”

It’s got Mickey slugging his bag off his shoulder, the dramatics of it all really killing his high. “Christ, Ian. What’re you bein’ so bitchy for-”

“What am I being bitchy for.” There he goes again, repeating shit. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Mickey are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah - what - I was doin’ this shit for you, anyway. Thought you’d at least be excited about it.”

Oh. Fuck. Ian does not like that. “Excited?” Off comes the robe, in a flurry of angry movements. He’s running hot, and not in a good way. “Why the fuck would I be excited about my husband cheating on me!”

And it’s-...

He’s-...

Wait a second.

“What?”

“You thought you could go out every night and meet up with a ‘handful of guys’ and I’d be jumping for joy?” He sure is using air quotes like he’s having a good time with it, but no no no-

“What the-...” Mickey shakes his head, trying to clear the air because holy fuck, “I ain’t fuckin’ cheating on you, Ian - the hell?”

“You just said-” 

“Christ, you think I’m out bangin’ other dudes?”

“Wuh-...! You-...!”

Mickey rubs a hand over his mouth, everything suddenly making a whole lot of sense. The dramatics. The theater of it all. Ian was catching him coming home from the act, but ‘the act’ ended up being two very different things in their respective heads.

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes out, going for his bag so he can put that thought immediately out of Ian’s head. “Look.”

He tugs the zipper open. Starts dumping out its contents on the floor right between them - his gym shoes - his old-ass iPod - a workout shirt - socks that stink so bad that they’re all he really needed to avoid all this. One whiff would’ve immediately made things clear.

But it’s enough now. Ian is slowly putting all the pieces together, the worry in his brow evening out and his chin returning to normal pointedness. Finally.

“You…” you says, hope returning. “You’ve been…going to the gym…?”

Mickey gestures to the pile of clothes in between them, his tone evening into something honest. “Yeah, man. Thought you wouldn’t notice once you knocked out…”

Ian eyes over everything one more time. Then slowly, his lips pull into a small pout, those eyes flicking away. “I notice every time you’re not in bed.” ‘Bitch.’ He wants to add it so bad. Mickey can practically see it trying to break through.

But he doesn’t. And there’s something so sheepish and honest and vulnerable about it, that Mickey can’t help but smile, peace returning as he stuffs his clothes and shoes back into his bag. “Fuck would I ever cheat on you for, ya dummy?”

A beat passes. Thoughts lingering. “I dunno… I just thought-...” 

“Well stop.” It sure makes a lot of sense, though. Now that he sees it through that lens. Fuck, he’d probably think the same thing if their roles were switched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to getchya all riled up…”

“S’okay…” Ian watches as Mickey gets himself sorted. Still has a lot of questions trying to get out - he can tell. And it starts with this one. “What do you mean you were doing this for me?”

It’s the correct one - right away. And Mickey’s glad he asked, actually. Because if he must know…

The floorboards creak beneath his shoes as he steps up into Ian’s space, his muscles warmed up and ready enough to finally show off his skills. 

And when he does it - when he wrangles his giant-ass husband in and hauls him up until he's got those thick thighs straddling his waist, Ian’s startle and wide eyes say it all as Mickey slots him up against the wall - all two hundred pounds - keeping him held up in his arms.

“Been goin’ to the gym so I can lift ya,” he preens, impressed with his own strength.

Because he’s been working for this moment. For the look of sheer shock in Ian’s eyes from the rush of it - how it simmers into delight and pride and something much, much steamier the longer he holds him up.

And damn, that little breathy, impressed laugh that huffs out between them. “Fuck, Mick…”

Oh yeah. This is what all that 2am weightlifting has been for.

“You like that, huh?” Mickey grins, the atmosphere shifting familiar and fun - heavy in a good way. “This do it for ya?”

From his arms, Ian nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he takes a second to eat Mickey up with his eyes, those big arms wrapping around the back of his neck. 

He probably thought he was doing a decent job at hiding how hot he gets with this - when Mickey can make him feel small and moveable. 

They’re both absolute dogshit at keeping secrets, it turns out.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

“I” chain my beloved <3 mickey would love it so much and he’s so right for that

yea yea yea! my most beloved! 💙 honestly, i think that's my favorite detail that i've added to any of my drawings alsdkfj

because YES! mickey would love it so much and he'd wear it so proudly and ian made sure to get a chain that mickey would love and to get the I simple and minimalistic enough that he wouldn't find it cheesy.

he loves it and he's SO RIGHT FOR THAT!

please can you imagine how hot he looks with a tank top and that chain? HELLO?

edit: this is about this (and this when i brought it back 😌)

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Hiroko Momose

There was Pegasus

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

SHAMELESS 11x11 | “THE FICKLE LADY IS CALLING IT QUITS”

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

can i have some pasta? 🥺

on it, babycakes

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Pento Moreno Glacier, Patagonia, Los Glaciares National Park, Argentina By Ian — 2011

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

the Gallagher kitchen turns Mickey into a drama queen

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

I love mickey milkovich cause he will beat, threaten, harass and just generally act like a thug all while he's wearing a plane top.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Stargazing Animal Crossing

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

I’m sorry, I’m late

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Another walk through the countryside. 💚🌿

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

What a good day to be filming a nature documentary.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Adding another to the Polaroid series ! Hope yall enjoy

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

hey bud 💚 how about 18 "it's so hot when you talk like that" if you're feeling it?

"It's so hot when you talk like that." additional tags: hypothetical pregnancy discussion, hypothetical breeding kink, ian's been reading a lot of ABO on the DL

"Can't believe that motherfucker Allen."

Ian closes their apartment door behind them, sealing them away from yet another neighbor interaction. "Makin' Jill carry all those bags when she's - what, thirty weeks pregnant?" He's nosy - don't worry about it.

"Thirty one," Mickey corrects, because he's even nosier. "What a piece of shit."

"Well...least we were there," says Ian, finally able to worm the handle of their plastic CVS bag back down to his hand now that it's not occupied with another family's groceries. "Think they'll make us godparents?"

At the counter, Mickey grimaces. "Ugh. Don't even fuckin' joke about that."

It gets a laugh from Ian - the striking contrast between Jill's produce bags and their CVS bag of lube, condoms, and beef jerky not lost on him in the slightest.

"Better not pull any of that shit on me."

Ian looks up from their spoils. Tries to imagine a world where he'd pull an Allen on his husband. "Never," he says. "I'm a gentleman after all."

"Uh huh..." He can hear Mickey's grin as it trails off into the refrigerator, his head and shoulders blocked by the open door. "Course, for that you'd haveta put a baby in me first."

And oh, the way Ian's sensors go off in his brain... How a little pop of interest licks up his belly... Well that was a thing to fucking say! "Ha ha..." play it cool... "Yeah..."

It's just a stupid, passing comment. They make it to each other sometimes, comfortable in the silliness of it. But that doesn't mean Ian's brain hasn't taken it and molded it into perfect, sexy little shapes for himself.

"You expect me to carry around your pups like that, I expect your ass to cater to me day 'n night..."

Okay...

Ian takes a slow breath in, his nostrils flaring.

He sets the lube down.

Goes with his gut and approaches Mickey from behind, just as he's closing the refrigerator door. Because if he's gonna keep talking about this shit, then Ian's got no choice but to follow his animal instincts, right?

"Oh," he feels Mickey grin as he swoops in to wrap his arms around him, pulling him close against his chest. "That right, big guy?"

And fuck, Ian's just gonna go for it. Just gonna indulge a little, the fantasy of all those stories he's been sneaking in at night playing out right in front of him on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. "It's so hot when you talk like that..."

He murmurs it into Mickey's ear. Finds comfort in being able to hide his face from him, because he's definitely blushing a deep red when Mickey feeds into it - "What...talkin' 'bout you knockin' me up...?" - because of course he does.

And all Ian can do is hum in affirmation, his hold around his husband tightening as he drags his lips down the side of his warm neck, looking for his pulse point. "Mhm..."

Because that's hot...right? Ian laying Mickey out and pumping a nice big load into him? Getting him pregnant? Taking care of him while Mickey carries his child? Yeah, he knows it's not realistic and yeah, he knows it's a little fucked up, but come on... All those stories are kinda onto something.

In the kitchen's golden afternoon light, Mickey presses his ass back into his lap, teasing at the very obvious bulge in Ian's jeans. "Ya know, stud...we could make a baby right now..."

It's got heat and pleasure spreading through Ian's lap - up through his chest. Holy fuck. "Yeah...?" He fucking loves this man. "Want me to getchya pregnant, baby?"

"Mhm... Want ya to stick this big ol' cock in me and knot me up..."

And Ian is so blindly horny that it almost slips past him. He's so ready to haul Mickey into their bedroom and crack open the new lube but then he-... Wait a minute... He just said-...

Ian grows still behind him, embarrassment waiting in the wings as he carefully asks it. "How do you know that word...?"

"What... Knot...?" He can't see Mickey's face, but god damn he can hear the smirk on his lips. "Same reason I know your phone password..."

And oh... Ohhh boy, should Ian be having a crisis?

No. No, he doesn't think so. Because even with his search history fresh in mind, Mickey's playing along - feeding right into it, with another press of his ass into his lap and then a teasing brow raise as he starts for their bedroom.

"C'mon you alpha freak - come put a baby in me."

Ian stands for a second, at a loss for words in the middle of their kitchen.

But then they kick right in again - his animal instincts - and he's hot on Mickey's tail.

Fuck, he loves this man. He'll carry a thousand fucking grocery bags for him.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]