Morning after - @thecanarylives

[bringstheheat]

Mick is far from a morning person. Normally waking him up involves a good hard shove just to get his attention, particularly when he's sleeping in a large, soft bed with the woman he loved. Sara always slips out for an early morning run and while he might sleepily mutter in protest, throwing an arm out where she'd once been, it's never quite enough to get him out of bed.

So his favorite mornings are the ones when she takes off, skips a run in favor of some other form of exercise or just to laze in bed with him.

Considering the length and duration of Laurel Lance's birthday party last night, Mick is all for staying in bed.

Tequila is just fucking evil.

But there's a warm body curled close, blonde hair tickling his nose and Mick couldn't be happier. He's still on disability from the station, the scars on his arms still healing up, but he can move without stiffness and pain and that's light years from how bad it had been after the fire that had almost taken his life. Third degree burns, physical therapy and his insistence that he didn't give a damn about skin grafts. Save that for the people that really needed it.

He'll ask for a rubdown later, something to ease the lingering stiffness, but not right now. He's got Sara close and all is right with the damned world.

Comments

[bringstheheat]

That laughter always makes him smile. It doesn't matter if it's lazy rolling around in bed, roughhousing in the pool or in the heat of passion, they move perfectly together. His thumbs rub small circles against her hips before sliding up the long muscles of her back to keep her close so he can claim a more proper good morning kiss.

"Mhn. Was pretty fun," he agrees. Even if his head didn't, but that was something a good cup of coffee and some aspirin would no doubt clear up. "Y'think so?" The Lance family hadn't exactly welcomed Mick with open arms at first, but they were collectively warming up to him. Slowly.

Not that Mick is terribly concerned. His entire world is wrapped up in his arms, hair tickling his nose and hands braced on his chest. Let them frown and disapprove. He loves Sara. She's his and he's hers. Simple as that.

[thecanarylives]

That smile. It never fails to dissolve her into a giddy school girl, and not just because it's so rare. He has a handful of different smiles she's seen throughout the years - that forced, tight-lipped one he has when he's irritated, the slightly crazed one he gets when he's rearing for a fight, that smug smirk he gets when he's feeling particularly invincible. She can't help but think, though, that this one - the softer, genuinely fond one - is just for her. And she'll take as many of them as she can get.

She still gets goosebumps, after all this time, feeling those warm, calloused hands slide up her skin. She leans into his kiss easily enough, weight propped on her forearms on either side of his head as she presses slow, lazy kisses along his lips.

"Mm, well, she didn't kick either of us out of the party, so I'll call that a win," she teases, dragging her teeth over the curve of his lower lip. To hell with their disapproval. Neither her sister nor her father are in any place to judge, and after a slew of crash and burn relationships, she's allowed to be with a man that makes her happy. Stupidly, undeniably, damn near disgustingly happy.

[bringstheheat]

Mick hasn't had a lot of good in his life. A house fire when he was a kid, foster care, a couple of rough stints in juvie before he got straightened out to make it through high school and join the CCFD. Not the best life but hell, other kids had it worse and at least he wasn't a criminal, right? Then Sara came into his life and brought warmth and affection. Love. He was going to treasure every damn moment with her, no matter the disapproving looks from family.

He rumbles out a laugh, letting one hand drift over her hair. "True. And I did get the shovel speech from her. Must be a step in the right direction."

[thecanarylives]

Sara always did run with the troublemakers. She grew up the black sheep to Laurel's white one, though Detective Lance would always insist that no man would ever be good enough for both his princesses.

Which is why Sara's certain he ran a background check on Mick the moment he had a first and last name. And subsequently the reason Mick would always fight the uphill battle if he wanted to win her father's favor.

Not that Sara cared. She'd shack up with a damn gun-toting supervillain if he made her feel the way Mick did.

"Please, like my sister can pull any weight threatening you," she grins. "But hey, at least it shows acceptance, I guess."

She presses another kiss to his chin before resting her head in the crook of his neck, fingertips toying gently over his chest.

"My head's pounding. Feels like we drank an entire handle by ourselves."

[bringstheheat]

Mick hums at the kiss, stroking his hand through her soft hair. "Y'know, I think we did," he agrees. After a few more moments of comfortable quiet, Mick kisses her forehead. "Stay comfy. I'll make us some breakfast."

Because if there's one thing Mick excels at in the kitchen, it's breakfast. Plenty of starch, grease and coffee to fight off any lingering hangover.