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"Come on Mickey, you promised," Ian yelled from the front yard. He heard Mickey groan loudly from inside the house. Their house, which was a tiny two bedroom, one bathroom piece of shit. But Ian was oddly proud of it, and after settling in after the move, he immediately decided he wanted to tame the front yard, which was horribly overgrown with grass and weeds. He had even bought flowers to plant, which Mickey pretended to hate but Ian saw him going through the different sorts when he thought Ian wasn't looking.
He pushed their piece of shit lawn mower out to the yard, which was a mission and a half considering the mass amounts of tall overgrown grass in his way. "Mickey!" he shouted again, "Get your ass out here and help me!" He heard the older man groan yet again but fucking finally, Mickey stepped outside onto their tiny porch and crossed his muscled arms, frowning at Ian.
"Mowing the lawn is a one person job, Gallagher," he said, looking disdainfully around at their yard-- which was comparatively large compared to their small as fuck shit hole of a home. "What do I gotta help for? You need me to hold your fuckin' hand or some shit?"
Ian rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. "For starters, you can stop with the attitude, asshole. I'm mowing the lawn so you can get the garden tools and dig out the garden so we can plant the flowers later." Mickey huffed loudly but did as he was told, getting out the "stupid fuckin' kid shovel" as he called it and began weeding the small garden area that ran along the front wall of their house. Ian started up the mower, which took a few attempts, and pushed the mower forward with extreme effort, considering the high grass. He got through a good portion of the yard with minimal problems, and stopped the mower to have a small break after a while. He looked at the mowed part of the lawn with a proud smile, then walked over to Mickey, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his sweaty face. He didn't miss Mickey ogling at his abdomen when he let his shirt drop. He smirked at his boyfriend and leaned down to press a kiss to his sweaty forehead. It was a hot day, the July weather not easing up in the slightest. He sat down next to his boyfriend and smiled, then frowned when he noticed his teary eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked in concern, reaching out for his boyfriend. Mickey rolled his eyes and batted his hand away.
"Why are you crying?" Ian asked, his tone worried.
"I'm not fuckin' crying, Gallagher. Fuckin' pollen is making me eyes itch and shit." He brought his hands up and knuckled at his eyes in frustration, and his eyes were red and puffy when he moved his hands away. Ian raised both his eyebrows.
"How did I not know you were allergic to pollen?"
"A lot of fuckin' people are allergic to pollen, firecrotch. I usually take pills for it but I forgot. Okay?" he said sassily, dragging a hand down his face, wet with perspiration. Ian chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
"Okay," he echoed, before standing up and walking back over to the mower. He turned back to Mickey and smiled. "Garden looks good, babe." He snickered when Mickey glared at him for the pet name, then started up the lawn mower again and continued cutting the grass.
He was panting slightly and his muscles were starting to ache from the effort of pushing the mower around the front yard. He was almost done with the lawn though, so he soldiered on until he was finished. He shut off the mower and threw his arms up in pride.
"Mickey! Look at this lawn! I can actually see it!" he exclaimed excitedly, gesturing at the yard. Mickey looked up from his position bent over the garden and sniffed heavily, running a hand over his nose. He nodded in acknowledgment and gave Ian a thumbs up.
Ian immediately moved onto the task of raking up the mess left over, since the piece of shit mower didn't have a catcher. At this point though Ian didn't even care; he was so proud of his work done today. He hummed a tune happily while he raked the chopped grass into a pile, having to cough up bits of inhaled grass, but he didn't even care. He glanced over at Mickey with a smile.
"Looks like you can start planting those flowers now babe, don't you think?" he asked, then frowned in confusion when Mickey held a hand out to silence him.
"Mick?" Ian asked slowly, then Mickey stood up and rubbed at his nose. Then he sneezed with excessive force, and Ian's heart melted at the surprised look in those wide blue eyes. His adorable south side thug scared himself with a sneeze. Then Mickey sneezed again, three times in quick sucsession, and Ian thought he looked like a kitten. Mickey coughed and ran a hand over his face roughly, then glared at Ian.
"Fuck you," he said flatly. "Pushing all that fuckin' shit around the yard, screwing with my allergies."
Ian let the rake drop then approached Mickey, pulling him in by the older boys waist. He leaned in and pecked the tip of his perfectly shaped nose.
"You should've seen your face," he whispered, fighting a smile. "Sneezing like a little kitten."
Mickey narrowed his eyes at him for a second and then scoffed, shoving him away and walking towards the house. "Fuck you, Gallagher!" he shouted, flipping him off. "Finish the garden by yourself!" He shoved the front door open and walked inside, and Ian heard him sneeze from inside the house. He laughed again and went to follow his adorable boyfriend into the house, and then maybe go to the Pharmacy to get some hay fever medication.