Archive of Our Own ^beta

When the holiday season starts to hit, Mickey honestly doesn’t expect to be included much in the festivities. It’s been about two months now, and while Mickey’s finally able to understand that Ian loves him, he still can’t comprehend that Ian loves him 24/7 instead of simply at random times whenever he feels like being loving. It’s too foreign for Mickey, at least for now that is. And after all, they ended up staying home together for Thanksgiving. Mickey expects Ian will leave for Christmas, go see his family, leave Mickey to tend house. It makes him sad, but Mickey knows better than to complain. He’s grateful for anytime spent with his Dom, and he knows at least he won’t have to spend the holiday out in the snow or locked in a closet. Or playing the Game, he hopes. He’ll at least have a warm house and soft bed this time around, which is more than enough for Mickey.

So on Christmas morning, when Mickey wakes up to Ian’s arms still wrapped around his waist, he’s a bit confused. But then, maybe Ian wants to give him a kiss goodbye before he leaves for however long he plans on leaving for. He’ll take what he can get, in that case. After all, Ian could get bored or annoyed with him at any moment. Doms always did around holidays, wanting him out of their way usually, so Mickey’s unsure what to expect.

He takes a glance at the clock, realizing with a start that it’s half past ten, and breakfast isn’t ready yet. Not that Ian wants him to cook at a certain time normally or anything, but the routine they have now is engraved in Mickey’s head. He always gets up at six, an hour before Ian has to wake up, and starts on breakfast. He’s relieved Ian’s still asleep, because he really doesn’t want to make Ian angry on Christmas. He slowly slides out of bed, doing his best to try and tiptoe out of the room quietly, when he hears a voice that makes him freeze.

“What are you doing out of bed, baby boy?”

He doesn’t sound mad, but Mickey knows better than to take chances. He turns around, standing frozen and unsure of what to do. “I-I was gonna make breakfast, S-Daddy,” he corrects himself at the last minute.

“It’s Christmas, darling,” Ian murmurs back. “Come back to bed with Daddy, little one.”

“Yes Sir,” Mickey’s voice tremors as he scampers back into the bed. He doesn’t notice the concerned look in Ian’s eyes at the botched honorific, only the frown that’s growing on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-to assume what you wanted-“

“Shhhhh,” Ian’s voice is soft and gentle. “It’s Christmas, sweetheart. You should know you have today off. Daddy will take care of things today, okay?”

Mickey only nods, looking anywhere but at Ian’s face. He doesn’t get to see the frown increase, can’t see the gears turning in Ian’s head as his Dom tries to figure out why he seems so skittish on what should be one of the most peaceful days of their lives.

“C’mere,” Ian’s voice is nothing but soft and gentle, but Mickey doesn’t move an inch, and Ian can see the fear in his eyes.

“N-no Sir,” Mickey mutters, and then looks up, horrified by what he’s just said. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I-don’t! Don’t hurt me!” He lunges out of the bed, mistaking Ian’s reaching hand of comfort for a threat. “Don’t! I’m sorry, Sir! I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good I’m so sorry! I-I-“

“Please don’t bolt,” Ian pleads, staying frozen right where he is as he looks at Mickey. “Not gonna hurt you, baby boy. Daddy loves you, shhhhhh. Now I don’t know what has you so skittish this morning, but I promise you nothing bad is going to happen to you, okay? Nothing. You’re a good boy, and you’re safe, and nobody’s mad at you, okay. You’re not with him anymore. You’re with me. Always with me.”

Ian watches carefully as Mickey sinks down into a seated position against the wall, curled up in a tight little ball and trembling hard.

“He would leave me in the closet sometimes…on Christmas…or he’d throw me outside in the snow…” Mickey stammers out shakily. “B-but at the end of the night he’d always come get me for…for my present….”

It’s clear by the look on Mickey’s face that this was not a nice present, not something that Ian would ever do to his boy under any circumstances. He doesn’t push or prod, just sits there waiting for Mickey to get it all off his chest.

“I-it was Chase….the game I told you about…b-but with a twist. H-he said if I got caught…he’d chop off my limbs one by one with a chainsaw…just for fun. He never did, f-for obvious reasons…b-but I would hear it…the chainsaw…he’d chase me around with it. And when he caught me….he’d bring it this close to my face-“ Mickey indicates only the barest amount of space with his hands. “T-then he’d laugh…choke me hard and slam me against a tree and…and….” Mickey sobs out, and Ian decides he’s done hearing about this, at least for today.

“Shhhhh, baby,” he murmurs softly. “You know that Daddy would never play those kinds of sick games with you, yeah? I don’t know what you were expecting holidays with me to be like, but that’s definitely not it-“

“I sort of just thought you’d leave me alone here…go see family…b-but there was always a chance you could…could…”

“Turn out like him?” Ian asks softly. “Baby…I’m not leaving you alone, and I’m not doing what he did to you either, okay? What any of your Doms did. We’re gonna have a nice time with just us. My family…they know you’re not good with other people just yet. They understand, so we’ll stay home and do our own thing, whatever you want.”

“….I don’t know what normal people do on Christmas, Ian…I’ve always been locked away…” The look on Mickey’s face breaks Ian’s heart.

“Not even when you were really little?”

“Can’t remember…I mostly just remember….him….”

“Well, Daddy will just have to show you what most people do on Christmas, won’t I sweetheart?” Ian tries for a smile, which fades at Mickey’s next question.

“Will it hurt a lot?”

“Baby….Christmas…it’s not supposed to hurt…” Ian sighs, biting his lips. “It’s a holiday where people open presents and sing carols and watch those cute little Christmas specials. “You’ve never done any of that?”

Mickey doesn’t have to shake his head for Ian to know he’s telling the honest truth. If he had done any of those things, it would’ve been when he was a baby, when his mom was still alive.

“Can I hold you?” Ian asks, and is already sinking down to the ground to join Mickey when his sub nods. “Sweetheart…I’m so sorry,” he sighs, pulling Mickey into his arms. “You…you deserve to have a good Christmas. I’m going to spoil you every December 25th from now on. I promise you.”

“I’m not worth the trouble, Sir, you don’t have to-“

“Baby, look at Daddy.”

Mickey stares up at him, those big, innocent eyes, so sweet, yet filled with so much pain.

“Baby, I love you. No matter what, I will always love you. And I will always be here to give you anything you need or want, okay? You’re worth everything, and it’s not a single bit of trouble for me, you understand sweet boy?”

Mickey looks surprised and doubtful, but he nods, and for now, that’s enough for Ian.

“Good boy,” he praises, smiling as Mickey melts in his arms at the praise. “Now, you want breakfast or presents first?”

“You got me gifts?”

“Course I did. It’s Christmas and you’re my baby boy,” Ian kisses Mickey’s head gently.

“How do you want me to pay you back?” Mickey asks, and Ian sighs softly as he holds his boy close.

“No paying me back, sweetheart. I spoil you because I want to. I expect nothing in return other than for you to feel safe and happy, okay? I promise you.”

Mickey nods, but still looks nervous. “What’s the present?”

“You know, it kind of ruins the point of giving you a gift if you know what it is before opening it,” Ian teases, but immediately regrets it when Mickey flinches away with a fearful look.

“Sorry, sorry Sir, I won’t be annoying anymore-“

“Hey, baby,” Ian soothes. “I was only teasing you sweetheart.” Mickey looks unconvinced, and Ian mentally curses himself for forgetting how literally Mickey takes his every word.

Ian’s had a lot of playful subs, and even a few brats who liked to push back and mouth off at various points. Mickey is different, quieter and more serious and always trying to make himself smaller. He’s a good boy, but very sensitive. Most Doms might not have claimed a sub that’s so clearly been broken in the ways Mickey has, but Ian isn’t most Doms. Ian loved Mickey from Day One, loved taking care of him and keeping him safe and happy, loved making him feel cherished. And he still loves it.

“Here, why don’t we go in the living room and open it?” Ian asks, hoping that will soothe his boy. If anything this only seems to make him tense more. Ian can see a question forming on his lips, but Mickey is biting it back for some reason. “What’s up, baby boy?” He asks, trying to figure out what’s got Mickey still acting like this, even after being reassured.

“You said you were only teasing?” Mickey asks, and Ian nods with a small frown.

“Yes, baby, why?”

“Then what’s the present?”

A laugh bubbles up in Ian’s throat, practically begging to be let out, but he catches himself at the last second, feeling the tremors in Mickey’s body, and then he realizes why Mickey’s so insistent on knowing what his gift is.

Mickey’s usual gift is being chased in the woods with a chainsaw.

“It’s a collar, wrapped in pretty packaging,” he responds automatically. “I have it under the tree. That’s why I said we should go out there and open it together.

“Only a collar?” Mickey’s eyes give away the mistrust he clearly feels, so Ian compromises.

“Yes baby. Just a nice collar. Tell you what? You stay here, and I’ll go get it so we can open it in here together. Does that sound better?”

Mickey hesitates for a very long moment before finally nodding. “That’s good Daddy.”

So Ian kisses him on the forehead and goes out to get Mickey’s small, perfectly wrapped present. When he walks back in the room, Mickey has a look on his face that tells Ian he was fully expecting his Dom to return with something to hurt him with. Ian sees the heartbreaking moment that the fear turns into surprise, shock even.

“You really did get me a present…” he murmurs, awestruck.

“Didn’t I say I was going to get your present?” Ian asks gently. He sits next to Mickey, sliding the small box over to Mickey. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Mickey stares for a long while, first at the box, then at Ian. Ian resists the urge to tease him again and ask if he’s ever going to open his present or not. He knows that’ll only make Mickey wonder if he’s upset. Instead, he stays quiet, meeting Mickey’s eyes back and waiting.

Mickey reaches for the box, eyes still locked on Ian as if he expects Ian to yank the thing away and say he was only joking, or some equally horrible thing. Mickey’s used to mind games, and he’s still learning that Ian doesn’t play those, not without enthusiastic consent anyway, and certainly never in such a cruel way regardless.

Mickey carefully starts to open the wrapping paper. Ian’s had subs that will just rip the shit straight off. Not Mickey. He takes an agonizingly slow ten minutes to make sure he doesn’t rip the paper or ruin the box in anyway. Ian knows better than to assume it’s because his sub just really likes the wrapping paper. Mickey was brought up in a dynamic where if he so much as blinked the wrong way, he would get punished. Ian doesn’t tell him to hurry or get impatient though. He simply watches and waits until at last, the wrapping paper has been neatly folded aside with the bow placed on top, and Mickey opens the box, staring in amazement at the collar.

“For me?” He breathes out, still looking utterly shocked.

“Yes, baby. Would you like help putting it o-“

“No!” Mickey shakes his head, quickly covering his throat, and Ian curses himself again for forgetting that due to his fear of being choked, Mickey never allows anyone else’s hands near his neck except his own.

“Shhhhhh, okay. I’m sorry. You can put it on yourself then, sweetheart. Take your time.”

Mickey nods, sighing in relief as he slowly lifts the collar to his neck and clasps it together quickly. The tag dangles daintily off the front, and reads Daddy’s Boy. Ian doesn’t think he could be anymore in love with it, or his baby.

“Is it too tight, too loose?”

“It…it doesn’t hurt, Daddy.” Mickey is always amazed when something he expects to hurt doesn’t.

“No, baby. It’s not supposed to.”

“Thank you, Daddy. For not hurting me and for giving me a present.”

“Not gonna hurt you, not ever,” Ian reminds him. “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I know you wanted to be Daddy’s Boy officially…so I figured I’d give this to you on Christmas.”

And for the first time that morning, Mickey starts to smile. He thinks maybe if Christmas is like this all the time, then he could definitely start getting used to it.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, sweet boy.”

The rest of the day passes by quietly. Ian makes gingerbread cookies, they watch Christmas specials together, and Ian teaches Mickey all of the Christmas carols he knows. It’s not like any Christmas they’ve had before, but to them, it’s perfect in every way.