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Mickey’s started going to the club with Ian just to make sure no one takes advantage of him. He lets Ian do his thing, give out lapdances, sweet talk them for some extra cash but he’s always stepping in when they go too far.
When the old fuckers get too handsy, get too greedy and takes away the drinks they buy for him in hopes this next drink will tip him over the edge and they’ll get a free turn with him.
He hates every single moment of being at the club. But he still goes because he wants, no, needs Ian to be safe especially when there’s no changing his mind.
Every time he’s scared they’re going to have a repeat of that night.
The night where he found Ian at the club and he was so out of his mind that Mickey was scared Ian didn’t know who he was. He thinks Ian vaguely recognised him at the time, likes to think his voice broke through unseeing eyes and the familiar touch brought him back down to earth.
How he’d waited for hours out in the cold for Ian to leave and when he was with some geezer itching to take him home to do god knows what with him. He can’t get that scene out of his head. Ian was so strung out he couldn’t stand, couldn’t feel the blistering winds even in a tank top and was able to pass out in dirty snow without a care in the world. He feels good he was able to save Ian that time, was able to carry him home and see him in his bed as he stayed up all night just in case something happened.
But it’s different now. Ian still dances but he’s not on pills, he still sweet talks his way through the night but he’s not going home with any strangers. He still wears the skimpy shorts but now he has a warm jacket to put on after and a familiar bed with no old guys in it.
The biggest change is that Mickey isn’t scared to kiss him in the club. It’s like that one night changed his whole mindset because here, no one fucking gives a shit. Everyone is gay and no one even gives them a second glance when they do it.
“I’m gonna be over there” Mickey tells Ian, pointing at a spot near the bar.
“Okay” Ian beams at him “See you in a few minutes”
Ian leans down and gives him a quick peck before rushing off to the dancers' change rooms and it takes Mickey a moment to remember what he was doing. He shakes his head and heads over to his usual spot where he’s in easy access to the bar but can also look at Ian’s usual hunting grounds so he can swoop in whenever someone gets too handsy.
He hates the music they play at the club. There’s no words, just beats and it hurts his ears. He leans against the barrier, a drink in his hand as he watches his boyfriend - Mickey is now able to say that Ian is in fact, his boyfriend - give lap dances to other men.
It’s not that he doesn’t care that Ian is flirting with other guys, it’s more like Mickey knows that Ian won’t go home with anyone else and in between clients he keeps looking over at Mickey and waving. It’s just a job, like Svetlana sucks dick for a living and Kev pours beers terribly.
Mickey’s keeping an eye on the dude Ian is currently giving a lap dance too. The guy’s getting pretty gutsy with his hands and keeps trying to hand Ian stuff which Ian doesn’t even look at. Ian swiftly dodges the guy sticking his hand between his legs and turns around to face him with no expression. He keeps his eyes trained away from the man and just continues writhing around for the remainder of his time. The man eventually sticks some dollar bills in the band of Ian’s gold shorts and then leaves.
He takes the money out and sifts through it and shoves it back in his shorts. He walks over to where Mickey is and stands on the couch below the ledge so they’re more at eye level.
“Here all by yourself, handsome?” Ian asks in a sultry voice, crossing his arms on the banister and resting his head on them.
“Oh yeah” Mickey scoffs, playing along with Ian’s scenario “Looking for a twink to take me home”
“Bet I could be that for you”
Mickey can’t help but let out a laugh at that and Ian soon follows.
Their laughter is interrupted by the same guy as before walking up to Ian and fondling the waistband of his shorts. Ian immediately reacts by slapping his hand away and Mickey was moments away from leaping over the banister to tackle the fucker.
“Get your hands away from him” Mickey barks, standing up to his full height and puffing his chest out.
“I just wanted to say hi” the guy grins, eyes never leaving Ian who is still standing on the couch. “And say thank you to Curtis here for such a lovely dance”
He holds out a drink to Ian who makes no move to take it.
“For you” he says
“Thanks” Mickey replies, leaning over and taking the drink himself before the man realises what happens.
“That wasn’t-” he starts
“Well, Curtis isn’t thirsty” Mickey holds up his empty glass “I am though”
“But-”
“Nope” Mickey takes a sip of the drink and holds back a wince. Fuck it’s disgustingly strong with tequila overwhelming his mouth “You can go now”
“Curtis-”
“Bye” Mickey waves him off, flashing his knuckle tattoos in the process and the man finally gets the hint.
Mickey finishes off the drink with a grimace while Ian watches with a concerned look. Mickey nods at him to go and do his job while he stays here. Ian hesitates before nodding back and hopping down off the couch and slinks off to his next client.
Mickey’s watching over the two of them when he feels like the music is becoming distorted. He’s almost glad for this because the music is hurting his head but it sounds off, like someone is slowly clogging his ears with cotton wool or adding an effect to the music to make it fade in and out. He feels oddly sleepy all of a sudden which is strange because he knows he’s only had a couple of drinks, needing to be focused on keeping an eye on Ian.
“Hey” a hand lands on his shoulder, waking Mickey up from his sleepy state “You okay, man?”
“What?” Mickey mumbles, almost falling from his perch.
“Whoa, did you take something?” they ask, using both hands now to keep him from toppling over. “Have too much to drink?”
“No” Mickey can’t really think right now “Ian”
“Ian?” the guy repeats “Did Ian do this to you?”
Mickey shakes his head no. Why can’t he fucking talk? He looks over to where Ian was and finds him whispering into some dude’s ear. What’s he even doing here?
Another man comes over with the bartender and they’re all talking to him at once. The lights are making him sick and the room seems to be spinning.
“What’s going on here” Ian’s voice breaks through the fog and Mickey turns to face him.
“Ian” Mickey moans like he’s going to throw up. “What’s happening?”
“You know this guy?” the bartender asks, nodding towards Mickey.
“Yeah, yeah” Ian nods hurriedly “He’s my boyfriend”
“Seems like he took something”
“He didn’t” Ian insists “I’ve been watching him all night”
That’s kinda funny. Mickey lets out a laugh. Because he’s been watching Ian all night.
“Well he looks like he’s on drugs” the bartender tells Ian.
“He hasn’t taken any!” Ian’s growing frustrated “Look, I know Mickey and yes he does drugs but he wouldn’t do them here”
“Okay” the bartender shrugs “I’m just saying it like it is”
“Did someone spike his drink?” the guy who caught Mickey before he could fall, asks
“No” Ian cuts himself off, his expression growing dark “That fucker”
Ian looks around as if the guy was still hanging around waiting to see the aftermath.
“He wanted to give me a drink but Mickey took it instead” Ian shakes his head, seething in anger “He was gonna give me a spiked drink but Mickey drank it”
Ian takes a deep breath and rubs a hand down his face.
“Fuck!” he shouts, it’s impossible to tell over the sound of the blasting music.
“Well, he looks like he’ll be fine,” the bartender says, taking a look at Mickey who is leaning on his arms against the banister so he doesn’t have to look at the blinding lights. “He needs to sleep it off and he’ll probably puke a little but if he’s still like this in the morning, take him down to the ER just in case”
“Okay” Ian nods. “I’m leaving early so can you keep an eye on him while I tell my boss and get changed?”
Mickey doesn’t even notice Ian left and is only awoken from his sleepy haze when strong hands clasp his upper arms and are guiding him to a standing position. A glass of water is placed in his hand and he lazily brings his arm up with Ian’s help to guide the water to his mouth.
“Small sips” Ian murmurs “You’re gonna be okay”
Mickey groans in response.
“I know, I know. We’re gonna go home and you can sleep it off, okay?”
Mickey must reply because Ian is saying he did a good job at something and now they’re walking away from their spot and the cold air hits him in the face.
Ian had shoved Mickey’s arms into the jacket and bundled him up. In any other scenario, Mickey would be scowling at being treated like a toddler but right now he feels like he has no control of his mind or body. He feels like putty, all loose and lethargic.
Ian must call for an Uber but he barely remembers the car trip. Remembers saying he’s going to throw up but doesn’t remember if he does or not. Doesn’t remember pulling up to the Milkovich house or Ian taking his clothes off and tucking him into bed.
He wakes up the next morning with the biggest headache he’s ever had in his life. Just the movement of looking over to the other side of the bed is enough to make him close his eyes again and groan in pain. He musters up the courage to open them again and finds the spot next to him empty. He braces himself and turns to the other side and finds a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand.
He heaves himself up with another groan loud enough for Ian to come rushing through his bedroom door.
“Hey” Ian breathes out and comes in to sit on the edge of the bed. “How you feeling?”
“Like shit” Mickey mumbles
“Yeah” Ian grabs hold of his calf through the blankets and gives it a squeeze “You had a rough night”
“Did I get drunk?”
“No” Ian bites at his lip “You got roofied”
“You’re kidding me” Mickey deadpans
“Yeah” Ian smiles sadly “Dude was gonna try and spike me but you took it instead”
“Oh” Mickey reaches towards the water and painkillers, popping them in his mouth and drowning them with a large gulp of water before flopping back down in his bed “Fuck”
“Yeah”
“I wanna go back to bed” Mickey mumbles, bring his arm over to cover his eyes “Too bright”
“Okay” Ian says easily “Do you want me to stay or go?”
Mickey pauses, brings his arm back down so he can crack an eye open and can look at Ian’s pretty face.
“Stay”