Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This was the twelfth time today that Mickey had paced up and down the hallway.

He was decidedly nervous, and had been for days now. Hell, he could barely get to sleep last night, and even then his dreams had been filled with nightmares. What-if scenarios of everything that could go wrong. 

He tried to reassure himself that nothing was going to happen. Tried to tell himself that Mandy would never hire some sleazeball who’d end up just like his father. Mandy had a nose for bad eggs. He knew she’d hired only the best. 

He was still scared though. Mandy wasn’t some superhuman computer or whatever. She was just his little sister. She had the potential to make mistakes just as much as he did. Just because it rarely happened didn’t mean he was going to be lucky this time. After all, when was Mickey Milkovich ever lucky?

A knock on the door nearly made him jump several feet in the air, and he nearly tripped over his own two feet in his haste to open it before the guy standing outside got annoyed with him and called up the company to say he no longer had an interest in working with Mickey because Mickey was a stupid piece of shit who couldn’t even answer the door correctly.

Heart pounding in his throat, Mickey flung open the front door, and tried for a friendly smile that he hoped didn’t come across as too panicked. He could look normal for company. Well, no, he couldn’t really, but he knew how to pretend to be normal, at least. 

“Hi, shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait, come in, uh, please?” He added the last part as an afterthought, and with trembling fingers, squeezed the door tightly as he held it open for the alarmingly tall, red headed stranger at his door. Jesus, this was who Mandy got? Why the hell was he so damn big? It almost felt like having Terry tower over him-no. Don’t think about Terry. Whatever you do, do not think about Terry.

But then a hand was coming towards him and Mickey really couldn’t help it. He flinched, knuckles turning white as he closed his eyes and waited for the blow that would never come.

“-sorry,” the other man was saying in a tone that was warm, smooth, and almost soothing. Almost. “Forgot you don’t like sudden moves. Mandy briefed me. I was only trying to shake your hand.”

A fucking handshake? Mickey was standing in his hallway looking like a fucking baby over a handshake?? He needed to straighten up before the insanely handsome giant at his door thought he’d completely lost his mind.

Mickey forced himself to uncurl, and snatched the redhead’s hand in his, gripping it in a handshake that felt too tight. He hoped the guy couldn’t feel how fast his pulse was racing through his hand. 

“Sorry,” Mickey murmured, trying to reregulate himself in real time as he chanced a glance into the other’s eyes. “I, uh, get jumpy sometimes, I guess. ‘S no big deal.”

It clearly was a huge deal, but Firecrotch decided not to comment on it, which Mickey deeply appreciated.

“It’s okay. I’m Ian,” said Red, Tall, and Handsome, and Mickey hated himself for being so rude. He hadn’t even said his own name yet. Ian must’ve thought he was completely off his rocker.

“Mickey,” he managed, unsure what else he was supposed to say. Mickey was hardly used to any company at his apartment besides Mandy. 

Luckily, Ian didn’t make him repeat himself from earlier, and simply let go of Mickey’s hand to step inside. What a fucking relief. 

“Do-Do you want….water? Or um….a Coke?” Mickey felt bad for even asking. What if Ian wanted coffee? Or tea? Or some other shit that Mickey either didn’t have or didn’t know how to make? What if-?

“Water’s okay for now, Mick. Can I call you that?”

Mickey relaxed marginally. Water, he could do. As for Mick, “‘s fine,” he replied softly. Mandy called him Mick all the time, so it wasn’t like it was new or scary for him.

“Great,” Ian replied with a soft smile that made Mickey feel slightly less off kilter as he slunk past him and into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. “Should we sit and talk about your expectations and our boundaries before we start?”

“Yes, yeah, fine,” Mickey nodded quickly, handing off the water in his hands to Ian. 

“You should have some water too, you know,” Ian said, almost casually, as if it had no meaning.

If it was Mandy saying it, Mickey would protest vehemently, even though he knew he hadn’t exactly had water this morning yet. He’d been too nervous to hold anything down in his stomach. Hell, he hadn’t even started on breakfast yet. He’d probably skip it to be honest. Way too fucking overwhelming. Plus, Ian wasn’t here to be his personal chef and he wasn’t about to ask him to do anymore than he was getting paid for. No reason to piss him off when things were going relatively okay for the time being, minus all the anxiety of course.

Still, Mickey didn’t protest the suggestion, too afraid of what punishment he might invoke on himself if he was seen as being ‘bratty’ or noncompliant. Mickey hated nothing more than punishment, especially from a male. It was different with Mandy. She knew him, knew how he worked, grew up in the same house as him, knew exactly what Terry had done to him. He trusted her not to hurt him, and she never did. Never once. Sometimes when he got disregulated enough to the point of screaming at her she’d set him in a corner for half an hour to calm down and think, but she never left him alone during those times and it was never done as a way of punishing. They called it reflecting, taking a time out to calm the fuck down before shit ended up happening that neither of them wanted. 

But Mickey didn’t know how Ian operated. Not at all. He didn’t know what kinds of punishments the redhead would deal out, and quite honestly wasn’t keen on ever finding out. So he slunk back into the kitchen, taking the suggestion as more of an order as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. He considered telling Ian that his stomach was rolling at the moment and it felt like if he took even one sip he might throw up all over the carpet, but he wasn’t really sure Ian would care or want to hear that, so instead he opened the bottle and took a long swig of the water, trying to swallow down the overwhelming fear that it might all come back up in a matter of minutes.

“Okay,” Ian said, his voice gentle and soft. “Thanks for drinking water. That’s great.”

The praise made Mickey shiver in delight. Mandy was the only one who knew just how much he liked praise, but he was sure she had related some of that information to Ian. Still, he didn’t dare open his mouth for fear of ruining this more tender moment by getting puke over the redhead’s shoes. That action would definitely not earn him any praise. Instead he nodded, and took the words as a sign that he didn’t need to chug anymore of the water down for now. Which was a relief considering how angered his stomach was by this violation.

Mickey always tended to get nauseous when he was anxious. It had been a thing since he was a small child, and all the trauma Terry put on him and the other kids certainly hadn’t ever helped him grow out of the habit. He wondered if Mandy had mentioned that to Ian. He knew she hadn’t told him every single little thing, telling him that he’d have to share some things with Ian himself. He would’ve hated her for that if she wasn’t right, but she was. After all, even she didn’t know all of his kinks, which made sense since their relationship was purely 100% non sexual and familial. She took care of him, he let himself be taken care of. No boundaries crossed. That was it. Except when there were things even she couldn’t take care of. That was the whole point of Ian being here, after all.

He sunk onto the armchair in the living room, not entirely comfortable sitting with Ian on the couch just yet. Mickey was slow to trust, especially with things like this, so sitting alone was much better for him for now.

“So, I’ll just cut to the chase since you don’t seem like the kind of person that likes beating around the bush. I’m here because you need a full time Caregiver and Daddy Dom to help fulfill all the needs your sister can’t, correct?”

Mickey nodded curtly, still not trusting himself to speak as he fiddled with a loose thread on the armchair. The nerves inside of him were only making his stomach roll even worse.

“And just so I’m making sure we’re all clear, you identify as a little and a soft sub, correct?”

Nod.

“Okay, that’s good, thank you for helping me confirm all of that. You’re doing great.”

Great. Great was even better than good, and Ian had already said it twice today. Mickey hoped he could do even more things that Ian deemed ‘great.’ He hadn’t realized how much praise from literally anyone besides his sister could make him melt until just now. 

“So, I’d like to go over your boundaries if we can. Mandy gave me a huge list of hard limits and I wanted to go over it with you and make sure nothing’s missing. Is that okay with you?”

Another nod.

“Great,” Mickey would never get tired of hearing Ian call him that. “Here. It’s all typed out, just look over it for me, will you? And then let me know if anything needs to be added or changed.”

Mickey shakily took the piece of paper, and began thoroughly going over it. The last thing he wanted was any loopholes, or any reasons for Ian to do something terrible to him. He noted only one alarming thing on the page, and that was that punishments weren’t on his hard limit list. He bit his lip, unsure how to bring it up. He hated that Mandy hadn’t mentioned it. Why couldn’t she save him from just this small bit of stress? He was already anxious enough as it was without this glaring blind spot in the way.

“Um,” he tried, his voice coming out in more of a tremor that he’d meant for it to.

“Yes?” Ian’s voice was still unfathomably calm, and, not wanting to embarrass himself, Mickey tried again.

“There’s um…I don’t know if Mandy mentioned it, but uh, I’m not….I don’t like-I mean I don’t really do the punishment thing well….”

“So you don’t want punishments? You want me to make that a hard limit too?” Ian asked. His tone hadn’t changed one bit, but for some reason Mickey heard it as an accusation.

“I-no, I mean I didn’t mean-fuck,” he slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling the sick start to creep its way up his esophagus.

“Hey, Mick? It’s okay, you know? It’s okay if you don’t want-“

But Ian didn’t get the chance to properly finish, because suddenly Mickey was vomiting nothing but stomach acid and a bit of water all over the floor in front of him. Oh fuck. Now he’d really messed this up. He could feel himself panicking and slipping at the same time. No no no this wasn’t supposed to happen! He was supposed to be able to function like a normal human being until the end of their talk at least. Why did his stupid little have to come out right now???

But then all the big thoughts faded, replaced by sheer terror at the mess he’d made. He was trying so hard to be a great boy and now he ruined it and Daddy was gonna get mad and not want him anymore or worse, punish him for making a big mess like this. 

“No no no Daddy I sorry I not do it again p’ease no hurts me!”

~~~~

Ian had been prepared for the worst today. Mandy had told him that it had taken a while to find someone like him. There weren’t many Doms who took up the professional route in society, and even less who were like him. Most Pro Doms were rough, harsh, strict. Mickey definitely didn’t need that. Mandy had warned him as much, though he hadn’t expected the sub to be nearly as nervous as he was. Certainly not to the point of throwing up in front of Ian.

From the second he’d walked in though, Mickey had been a ball of anxiety. It was like he didn’t know how to act around Ian, which honestly made sense. Mandy had warned him that Mickey had only ever had family Doms, and that he’d need to go slow as a sloth to gain his trust. 

Still, Mickey was a polite sub, which was good. Ian had dabbled in some brat taming before, but much preferred the simple experience of caring for someone rather than trying to fight them to obey a simple rule. Mickey’s not going to disobey rules though, not when he was already drinking water at Ian’s mere suggestion. He hadn’t really meant that the other man had to drink water. Yes, Mandy had told him that Mickey could forget to drink and eat sometimes, particularly when he was nervous, so he’d taken that into account. But it hadn’t been an outright order. Ian would never give those before they’d even gone over the boundaries talk. Still, Mickey had taken it to heart, and Ian had been proud.

Until all that water was thrown up onto the floor and Ian figured out exactly why Mickey had trouble eating or drinking when nervous. The poor thing looked absolutely miserable now, face pale but tinged slightly green as he puked his guts out all over the carpet. Ian couldn’t help but want to care for him and make him feel better.

“You poor, sweet thing,” he murmured soothingly. He hadn’t meant to drop into his ‘Daddy’ voice, but a sub in any distress always put him in Caregiver mode, whether he liked it or not. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. You get sick whenever you’re nervous, don’t you?”

Mickey let out a keening sound, like a frightened child who thought they were about to be punished, and Ian shushed him gently as he slowly started to stand from his place on Mickey’s couch.

“Oh, shhhhhhh baby, hush now. It’s okay. You’re safe with me now. I’ll take care of the sick and make it all better, honey, is that okay?”

Another whimper, and Mickey was fully crying now. He looked so small. So lost and alone. Ian wondered who had ever made this sweet sub ever feel this scared.

“Shhhh, it’s okay baby, Daddy’s here,” Ian soothed as best as he could. He felt so horrible that he was part of the reason the poor thing was so stressed out.

Mickey sniffled, whimpering as he stared up at Ian with big, innocent eyes. “You’s mad,” he whined out, looking crestfallen. “Not wants me anymore…”

“Oh, baby,” Ian finally reached Mickey, and crouched down next to him. “Sweetheart, look at me. Nobody here is mad, okay? All I am is worried about you. I wanna take care of you, sweet boy. Will you let me?”

Another soft sniffle escaped the sub. “I-I not gets the belt? Or the closet?”

“Baby! Oh, baby, no,” Ian shook his head vehemently. No wonder Mickey was terrified of punishment, if what he was used to was being dragged in a closet or hit with a belt. “No, none of that. You get love only, okay? Do you want hugs?” He opened his arms wide, allowing the little to come to him if he wanted.

“Hugs?” Mickey sniffled again. “I-I gets hugs like from sissy?”

Sissy must’ve been Mandy, so Ian nodded. “Just like the ones from sissy, only my arms are longer than hers so it’ll feel extra special. How’s that sound sweet boy?”

Before he could try to coax anymore, Mickey was in his arms, gripping on for dear life. “I sorry I got sick,” he whimpered out. “I not means to Daddy…”

“Oh, but of course you didn’t mean to,” Ian cooed as he gently started rocking the little in his arms. “Of course not, baby. You were just so anxious huh?”

“It hard,” Mickey whined out again, trying to bury his face into Ian’s chest. “Hard with new people. Want be small, but big too scared. An’ dens….dens sickies an dens I slipped…I’s not s’post to slip…big says so…”

“Well, big is being a bit silly,” Ian soothed, gently rubbing Mickey’s back. “Big knows perfectly well that he can’t help slipping, especially when he’s stressed out. That’s why littles like you need lots of care, right baby boy?”

Mickey nodded, and then let out another soft whine. “Daddy I no likes being sick…”

“Oh, baby, I know. Are you a bit calmer now? Because if you are, maybe we can save all the big talking for when your big gets back and take a nice bubble bath now instead. Would you like that?”

“Only takes bath if Daddy stays,” replied Mickey in an almost petulant tone. 

Ian couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “Daddy will stay, little one. Come on now. Why don’t you show me where the bubbles and rubber duckies are?”

Chapter Text

Little Mickey liked his new Daddy a lot. He said nice words and never ever screamed, and he gave hugs, and now he even wanted to let Mickey play with toys in the bathtub. He was starting to wonder what big was so scared about, cause Daddy was maybe even nicer than sissy was.

“Big silly,” he huffed as he lead Daddy into the bathroom and pointed under the sink to where all his bath toys were. “They’s all there Daddy.”

“Silly, huh?” Daddy said as he bent over to open the cabinet and get all the fun toys out. “Baby, do you wanna help Daddy out and turn the water on to a temperature you like?”

Mickey nodded enthusiastically and skipped towards the bathtub. He loved helping Daddy.

“Why do you think big is silly?” Daddy asked as Mickey made sure the water was just right.

“Mm…Big scareds of yous,” Mickey said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it. “But you’s not scary. Yous nice Daddy!”

“Mmm,” Daddy had walked over, and was starting to gently put each toy into the tub. “Big has been through a lot, hasn’t he, sweet boy? And I’m sure you have too. You should go a bit easier on him. It can be harder for bigs to trust than littles.”

Mickey pouted slightly. “I sorry. Not means to make fun of big. Is very hards for hims. Mean man did bad things.” He shivered at the mention of the mean man, and scooted a bit closer to Daddy, suddenly anxious about being away from him.

“Shhhhhh, mean man isn’t here baby, and Daddy won’t let anyone hurt you,” Daddy crouched down and began peppering his face with kisses. He loved kisses and cuddles more than anything in the world. Only sissy had ever given them out though.

“Mm…Daddy stay?” He pleaded again. He hoped Daddy wouldn’t get too mad at him for asking again. Mean man had always gotten mad if he asked questions twice.

“Daddy’s staying baby. Here. You want help out of your clothes now so you can get in the bath?”

Daddy was so nice. Mickey nodded eagerly. He didn’t wanna be in the big clothes covered in sick anymore. “Daddy I not wants big clothes anymore.”

“Of course not baby. You’re too little for big clothes right now,” Daddy smiled. “Okay baby. Shirt first. Arms up.”

Mickey obeyed because he was a good boy and he wanted to prove to Daddy that he was so Daddy could tell him he was being so good.

“Good boy,” Daddy said, and Mickey wiggled in happiness.

“I good boy, Daddy! I bes very good for you’s!”

“Awww, baby you don’t even need to try. I think you’re just naturally a good boy. I know how much you and big like praise.”

Mickey nodded. “Mhm! Big likes when you says he great.”

“Oh does he?” Daddy grinned as he helped pull Mickey’s shirt off. “I’ll have to call him that more often then, since he liked it so much.”

Mickey beamed, proud of himself for helping Daddy give more love to big. Big deserved nice things too.

“Pants next, baby,” said Daddy.

“Kay,” Mickey replied, unconsciously moving a thumb to his mouth to suck on.

“Oh, baby,” Daddy said gently. “Thumbs aren’t for sucking, sweetheart. That’s what pacis are for.”

Immediately Mickey’s eyes filled with tears. “I sorry Daddy! Not bes mad at me p’ease!” He whimpered out.

“Shhhhhh, oh honeybunch,” and then Daddy was scooping him up in a hug again. “I’m sorry. Daddy isn’t mad at all, baby boy. I just don’t want you getting sick, sweetness. There’s lots of little germs on your hands you know? So why don’t we get you a nice paci for the bath, honey?”

Mickey’s initial panic slowly ebbed away. “I wants paci, Daddy.”

“Okay little one,” Daddy cooed. “Wanna tell me where big keeps them so I can go get one?”

“No!” Mickey whined, clinging to Daddy for dear life. “Not goes! Not goes! You promised!!!” His eyes filled with tears again.

“Shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhhhh, honeybear,” Daddy soothed as he held Mickey close. “Daddy will stay with you, okay? We’ll go together, but next time you need to remind Daddy of something, no screaming or throwing a tantrum, okay? You can just use your inside voice and say things politely.”

“I’s in troubles?” Mickey sniffled softly.

“Not this time baby. Besides, I haven’t even talked to Big about acceptable punishments for you yet. But don’t make it a habit, okay?”

“Kay,” Mickey sniffled again, leaning into Daddy’s side. “Sissy puts me an big in corner sometimes. It not scary as long as sissy stays close.”

“Dies she?” Daddy asked, gently petting his hair. “Thank you baby. You’re very helpful.

Mickey couldn’t help another proud smile. He really loved helping Daddy.

~~~~

A few minutes later Ian had gotten Mickey settled into the bath with a blue pacifier and all of his bath toys. He could tell the little was enjoying playing with his toys. There was something almost domestic about it that warmed Ian’s heart entirely. Mickey even allowed him to help wash off, mostly his hair, back, and chest. Anything below the waist, Mickey wanted to do himself, which was fine with Ian for now, considering how small he was and how intimate that action could be.

By the time the bath was done, some of the naive innocence in Mickey’s eyes had faded away, replaced by the wariness from before. Big Mickey was coming back then.

“Your little picked out a blue onesie with paw prints to wear. That still okay for you?” He asked.

Mickey nodded, and, noticeably didn’t remove his pacifier as he stepped out of the tub. He was quiet, but he did allow Ian to dry him off and help with the zipper of his onesie.

“Back to the couch?” Ian asked, and Mickey nodded, shuffling back into the main room with an exhausted expression on his face.

“I’m uh…sorry you had to see that,” he muttered around the pacifier. It was only then that he seemed to realize he’d still been sucking on it, and Ian watched as he reluctantly took it out. So, it was a comfort item for big Mickey too then? That was good info to know.

“Don’t be sorry,” Ian shook his head. “Your little is cute, and I enjoyed caring for him.”

Mickey only nodded, biting his lip as he tried to figure out what to say. “I’m….I’m sorry. For being a…a burden for you. Um….I know I ain’t the best at this shit, and you’re probably annoyed with me for slippin’ during our talk-“

“Mick, hold on,” Ian held up a hand to stop him, and noted with sadness that even from this distance, Mickey still flinched. “You’re not a burden, and I’m not annoyed. It’s quite literally in my job description to take care of you. And even if it wasn’t I could never think you were a burden just because you slipped into Littlespace. I’d be kind of a monster if I got mad at you for something like that.”

Mickey’s expression wasn’t entirely unreadable. Ian watched as a flash of emotions crossed the sub’s face, until finally the smaller man let out a quiet, “Thank you,” that made Ian’s heart break all over again. He couldn’t believe he was being thanked for not being an asshole.

“Don’t thank me for showing you basic human respect and kindness, Mick, please? I’m happy to be here. To do this. To help you. Anytime you need me I’m going to be here.”

Just as Mickey was about to respond there was a low, long growl that Ian recognized as Mickey’s stomach growling. “Shit,” he murmured softly, checking his watch. 10:30 in the damn morning. “Have you eaten yet?”

Mickey shook his head, and actually tensed, like he really expected Ian to get pissed off with him about it. He really did just need a gentle hand as Mandy had said.

“Would you like me to cook breakfast for you? You tell me what you like and I’ll make it?”

Mickey looked so shocked that it broke Ian’s heart all over again. “You….you’d be okay with that?”

“Of course,” Ian replied immediately. “Mick, of course I would. My job’s to care for you after all.”

“Um…okay…how…how much extra is that gonna cost?”

Ian bit his lip, trying to keep himself from launching straight at the other man to give him a tight hug and never let go. But big Mickey and little Mickey were two totally different people, and Ian needed to have different approaches for each.

“None, obviously,” he said softly. “I told you, it’s my job to care for you.”

“I don’t want you thinkin’ you’re like…my fuckin’ servant or something,” Mickey muttered back, looking anywhere but at Ian.

“Mick, can you look at me please?” Mickey’s head snapped up, and Ian mentally cursed himself for making that sound like an order. “Listen to me, okay? I want to take care of you. If that means cooking breakfast or hell, even dusting the cobwebs out from behind the furniture every now and then, then I’ll do it. I want you to be comfortable with me here.”

He watched as Mickey finally seemed to accept his words, relaxing slightly as he nodded. “Okay,” he replied in that same soft, unsure tone.

“Great,” Ian said, watching as Mickey shivered slightly at the praise. So little Mickey was right about that then. He’d keep it in mind for the future. “Now what do you want for breakfast?”