80s Band Imagines

💙Mick- 13 13

Fluff

🎸

Mick had just arrived home from practice. It was almost midnight, but I was up myself trying to finish some stuff for work. I was sitting on one of the barstools we had, all of my papers scattered on the island.

"Hey, babe."
I greeted tiredly.

"Hey, June."
He replied in the same tone.
Whatcha workin' on?"

"Just some papers for work. No biggie. How were rehearsals?"

"Not too bad. Nikki was sober for the most part. Your brother still trying to keep everything running smoothly, and you know how Tommy gets."
He explained leaning on the island across from me.

"So, a normal day?"
I asked with a slight chuckle.

"Yea, for the most part. What about you? How'd work go?"

"Work is work. But it helps me out you know."
I shrugged.

"Come on, let's go to bed. You look exhausted."

"I just nee-"

"Babe. It'll be there tomorrow. Let's go cuddle up in bed. I'll even help you fix your papers."
He smiled kindly.

I took Mick's advice and picked up my papers before heading upstairs, Mick trailing behind me.
We both got comfortable in our pajamas before getting under the covers.

"You want me to rub your back?"
I asked, knowing how bad it can hurt him at times.

"No babe. But can you rub my fingers? They've been killing me since we started working on this new riff."

"Sure babe."

I took his fingers in my much smaller hands and began to slowly rub the joints, putting little pressure. Putting pressure only makes the pain worse, slow rubs get the little knots and kinks out before they can fully form.

"You've always been good at that you know?"
He smiles, sighing at the relief.

"It's not hard."
I smile back.

"Yeah, but no one else does it the same."

"Touche."

After a while, I took his right hand into mine and slowly ran my fingers over his tattoos.

"Mick, what do your tattoos mean?"

"13 13?"

"Yeah."

"Mick Mars babe. M is the 13th letter of the alphabet. Since I'm M. M. I'm also 13 13."
He smiled while explaining.

"Really? I never would've figured that out."
I looked at him intrigued.

"What about yours, what do they mean?"

"The one on my left shoulder is my dad's birthday and the one on my right is my mom's birthday. My shoulder blades are when my uncles passed, and the angel on the back of my neck I got when I was 16 because I thought it looked pretty."
I smiled while remembering my first tattoo.

"You ever wanted to get another one?"
He asked after a moment of silence.

"I've thought about it. But I've just never known what to get tattooed."

"You could get 10 13. You know eventually."
He smiled sheepishly.

"Like June Mars?"

"Yea. You know once we're married, or after we have kids."
He smiled, face growing redder by the word.

"You want to marry me?"
I asked flabbergasted.

"Of course, I do. Who else is gonna wanna rub my joints after rehearsals?"
He joked.

"So, I'm just useful for that?"
I joked back.

"I just, I love you. You know. And I want a future, the poster card family you want, I wanna give you. Take you on tour and show you off. Tell everyone to 'fuck off' when they try to take you home. I want that eventually."
He explained.

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, babe. I want that too. I've always dreamed of having a poster card family. You want that with me?"

"Course I do. I don't want someone else."
He answered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I love you."
I said bringing his lips to mine in a sweet kiss.

He laced our fingers together, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles before pulling away and resting his forehead on mine.

"So, 10 13 huh?"