by; LovetheOmni
Summary:
"trust" and "someone slipping Mickey a roofie at the club and taking the basically unconscious man away to do bad things to him and Ian finding them at the last second and saving the day."
I researched the effects of roofies for this. Apparently, it makes you not only just sleepy, but also it makes you not care and completely okay with everything that's happening.
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Things changed after Ian and Mickey became an official couple. For the first time in either of their lives, they were happy and in a committed relationship. They were so used to hiding their true feelings and keeping secrets from the world that finally being open about it felt a little strange. It didn't always come easy. They had to work on building trust in each other and their suddenly stable life together.
After Mickey came out to his dad and the asshole was sent back to jail for trying to beat the shit out of him, Ian moved into the Milkovich house for good. He helped take care of Yevgeny sometimes. He even pitched in money for food and rent whenever he could by working extra hours at the club.
Ian still had the same job as before, dancing for strangers, but he stopped letting customers touch him. Only Mickey was allowed that luxury. Unfortunately, being so tantalizingly unavailable only made some of the customers want him even more. Mickey spent most nights at the club protecting his boyfriend from admirers like a loyal watch dog.
Incidentally, Mickey also managed to attract a lot of fans. Since he came to the club so often, people started to recognize him as the mysterious thug who seemed to have a hopeless crush on one of the dancers. No one had ever successfully gotten as much as a name out of him, and he developed a reputation for being dark, handsome, and hard to get.
One guy in particular made it his mission to win Mickey over. He just wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Hey, handsome," he said to Mickey. "Back so soon?" That was the third time this week that the guy had talked to him. Mickey was starting to get annoyed.
"What part of 'fuck off' don't you get, asshole?" he growled. He turned away and took a swig of his beer. The guy didn't seem fazed and shoved himself right back in Mickey's face.
"I keep telling you: my name is Phil," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Short, sweet and easy to remember when screaming it out in bed."
Mickey shot him a look of disgust. "In your fuckin' dreams," he grumbled, turning his eyes back to Ian dismissively.
Phil followed his gaze and sighed. "You're wasting your time with that one, you know," he said warningly. "That dancer never sleeps with customers. You should just come have a good time with me, instead."
Mickey smirked a little at that. "I'm more than a fuckin' customer," he said proudly.
Phil was taken aback. "What, you're like his boyfriend or something?" He laughed in disbelief when Mickey didn't bother to deny it. "You two don't look like a match at all."
Mickey grimaced. He hated when people acted like they knew more about his relationship than he did. He grabbed his almost empty glass of beer and got up to leave before he lost his temper.
Phil forcefully grabbed his arm to stop him. "Come on," he whispered into Mickey's ear insistently. "I know you want to pound my tight ass, you little slut."
Mickey raised his eyebrows and laughed like he'd just heard a funny joke. "Don't act like you fuckin' know me!" He shoved Phil over, sending him toppling to the ground.
