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He wakes up, and he knows it’s early.
The sunlight filtering through the curtains is new and bluish. It’s maybe 5:30. He doesn’t have to be anywhere for a few hours and he’s sure Mickey has breakfast in bed planned or something, but still. It’s time to get up. It’s going to be a beautiful day outside and he wants to be there when the sun fully arrives.
He slips out of bed and sneaks out of the bedroom. He makes his way down the stairs, through the kitchen to the back slider, and looks out into the little fenced-in yard, his own garden tucked near the corner. The apartment was nice for what it was, but before the full year was even up they knew it was time to move on from that kind of living. With the end of their lease they moved into something that’s just theirs. And it’s a good thing, too. Otherwise he wouldn’t get to do this.
He debates wearing shoes. He could, but then would it count as naked? Whatever, he can go barefoot. The grass and dirt will feel nice, anyway.
He drops his boxers and kicks them under the kitchen table. He grabs what he needs, most of it stored by the door, and steps out into the cool morning air.
It’s going to be warm today, but the early hour means he’s bracing himself against a chill in the air. He doesn’t mind it. It feels good on his skin, smells fresh and damp, and the dew on the grass makes his toes cold.
He kneels, intending to get to work, but finds himself pausing. This house is still new to them and he hasn’t been out here this early yet. He likes how everything looks in this light, can’t get over how the air seems to smell so different this time of day, how this is the quietest he thinks their neighborhood has been since they moved in. He wants to savor this.
He puts both hands on his knees and just sits for a moment. He wonders why he doesn’t do this all the time. Not the naked part, although it is exhilarating and he is enjoying it. But just being here before the world wakes up, when it’s just him connecting with the things he grows.
He gets to work, does his thing. Inspects and checks on things, does what he needs to do to make sure everyone grows healthily. It feels good to move though the dirt like this, feel his bigger plants brush against him when he has to shuffle between them, feel the sunlight on him as the sky brightens.
It’s weird, but he thinks it does make him feel closer to his garden. Being naked, that is. He knows Mickey’s going to tease him for it when he tells him that, but he’s going to tell him anyway. It feels nice and he wants to tell him about it, share some small part of it with him.
Just as he’s thinking that, he hears the slider open. He looks up at his husband and finds himself immediately blushing at being caught like this, out in their yard at dawn for no reason, naked.
Mickey smirks and makes his way across the yard. He’s quite a bit more dressed than Ian in a t-shirt and lounge pants and slippers. He’s also carrying a throw pillow he must’ve snagged off the couch on his way out, which Ian will have to yell at him for later.
“What’re you doing here?” Ian asks.
“Woke up, you weren’t there,” Mickey says casually. “Looked out the window and saw you in all your glory. Didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Mickey sits in the grass nearby and makes himself comfortable, laying back and tucking the pillow under his head. He closes his eyes and interlaces his fingers on his stomach.
Ian smiles a little bit and turns back to his work. “Well, I’m doing it.”
“Uh huh. How long you been out here?” Mickey asks.
Ian looks up at the sky as if he’s the type of person who can actually tell the time by noting the position of the sun. “I don’t know, half an hour?” he guesses.
“Hmm,” Mickey acknowledges. “Was gonna make you breakfast.”
“You still can.”
“Kay. Just tell me when.” He sounds sleepy, keeps his eyes closed. The dew is probably soaking through his clothes, the grass prickling the backs of his arms, but he doesn’t seem to care. Ian laughs to himself at how ridiculous he looks, coming outside just to go right back to sleep in the yard.
Not that Ian looks any less ridiculous.
Ian gets back to work, is nearly done and wants to finish and gather his things and get inside before he’s been in the sun long enough to burn. Future nude endeavors will involve sunscreen, he thinks to himself. And then he brightens at the thought of doing this again.
Those last few minutes are his favorite of the whole day. He listens to the birds. He feels the dirt and his plants. He enjoys his husband’s quiet company. He’s warmed by the sun.
When he’s ready to go inside, he knee-walks the few feet over to where Mickey lays, the dampness of the grass turning the dirt on his shins to mud. He stays on his knees and tucks up close, curling up.
“Let’s get inside,” he murmurs, and Mickey blinks a few times, opens his eyes and looks up at him.
The sunlight makes his irises a shocking blue. He smiles after a moment.
“Yeah, alright,” he mumbles sweetly. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
Ian kisses him in the grass.