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The last thing Mickey Milkovich had expected to be when he grew up, if he ended up being anything but a drug dealer anyway, was a cop.
All his life, he’d hated the cops, because he was told to and also because, why not? Not like those pigs ever did him any fuckin’ favours. The only time he ever appreciated cops was when they shoved his dad in jail for a while, but then he went right back to hating them when his old man was let back out again.
Still, his parole officer — from his second stint in Juvie — had somehow managed to convince Mickey to go the straight and narrow. She got him a job, got him and Mandy out of their house and into one of the better (although that wasn’t saying much) foster homes, and kept an eye on him so he stayed out of trouble until he at least turned eighteen. By the time he did, his foster parents — who were neglectful as fuck, but thankfully not abusive — kicked him out. Mandy willingly followed, and his PO was a big softie who let them stay as long as they did something with their lives and contributed in some way. She may have been a softie, but she wasn’t fucking made of money.
As it turned out, she had decided he would come and do some work experience at the Chicago Police Department. He reluctantly did what she said and ended up loving it. There were a few things he witnessed or heard about that made him still want to burn down the entire fucking place, but he decided he wanted to be a police officer. Maybe one day he could even become captain or some shit and get these fucking people to stop being so corrupt. She supported his dreams, but also made sure he knew that he had a while until he made fucking captain.
So he joined the police academy, and ended up being a police officer by the time he was twenty. After five years of being an officer, the captain promoted him to a detective along with his partner, Ian Gallagher. He and Ian met during their academy years and quickly became friends, then one night ended with them fucking in the locker room, and the rest is history. Now they’re partners in pretty much every sense of the word.
672 Hours from Extraction
They had been waiting months for some kind of career-changing case. A case that would make the rest of the department take them seriously. Being young, Southside, openly gay detectives wasn’t as easy as one might think. However, they didn’t tell anyone that they were actually living together and in a serious relationship since the captain would probably consider that grounds to split them up as partners. Having a couple doing missions together could be dangerous; feelings could get in the way.
But they wouldn’t be waiting much longer. Little did Mickey know as he tapped away at his computer, completing some boring ass paperwork, that everything was about to change. This was it. This was their moment.
‘Aye, Milkovich!’ Ian called out from the captain’s doorway in an over-exaggerated Chicagoan accent. ‘This is us.’ He shot him a sly wink before disappearing back through the door.
Ian had been in there a while, and Mickey had been beginning to wonder what the hold-up was, but he guess he now knew. They had a new case to solve. Mickey stood from his desk, re-tucking in his shirt and checking his hair — the captain was a stickler for presentation, so much so that he would be willing to take away a case just because of how you looked — before heading over to the open door.
‘Shut the door behind you, please, Milkovich,’ the captain ordered and Mickey followed, shutting the door and standing beside Ian, who shot him a cocky grin. ‘Now, I’ve just spoken to Gallagher here to see if you’re up for a new case. It’s pretty major and with the amount of paperwork piled on your desks, I wasn’t sure if you had the time. However, Detective Gallagher has ensured me you can handle this as well.’
‘It’s a long time and it’s undercover,’ Ian interjected excitedly.
‘Gallagher!’ the captain barked, clearly frustrated with being interrupted.
‘Sorry,’ Ian mumbled, grin still on his face.
Now Mickey was paying attention. They had never done undercover before. This could change their entire careers, and he was just hoping Ian didn’t talk and fuck it up for them. Their hard-ass of a captain would take it off them without a moment’s thought if Ian annoyed him.
‘You guys have been doing stellar work lately, and I think it’s time to promote you in terms of the difficulty of your cases. This information is privileged and never leaves this office.’
Ian bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, clearly eager about the information that was about to be bestowed upon them. Mickey had thought that Ian had known everything already, but clearly not. He turned back to the captain, who was rolling his eyes at Ian’s excitement.
‘Your mission is working undercover for the mafia…particularly Alexei Petrov, who is a Brigadier, which may not be the Boss, but he is a high-up,’ the captain continued, pausing and scowling at Ian when he squeaked in excitement. ‘You will be working for him, listening into his conversations and reporting back to us. Simple stuff, but the closer you can get, the better. However, for your own safety, I don’t want you getting too close — no becoming his drinking buddy, alright? Just professionally close. We have a rat that will get you in. Your mission is only to stay in his good graces, find out the information we need, report back to us, and then we will carefully extract you. You may ask questions now.’
‘What if he wants us to kill someone to prove our loyalty or something?’ Mickey frowned.
The captain licked his lips as he seemed to hesitate, before leaning against his desk and sighing, ‘Milkovich…This is a very serious mission. We will do everything we can to prevent such a thing happening, or find some way around it. However…we can’t promise anything. Your orders are to do whatever it takes to make it happen. You more-so than Gallagher will be front-and-centre of this mission.’
Mickey arched an eyebrow, holding back from comforting Ian as he saw his face fall in his peripheral vision. ‘Why is that, Captain?’
‘The higher-ups thought your…look and demeanour suited this particular mission,’ the captain admitted, somewhat sheepishly.
‘You mean to say I look like a mobster,’ Mickey clarified with a scowl. ‘Were we really chosen because of our “stellar work” or was that all bullshit?’
‘Milkovich, if you want this case, you will watch your tone. This is a very important case to the entire department, and if you drop the ball, I will not hesitate to make sure your career goes up in flames.’ The captain scowled right back, pale face hard and stony.
‘Mick,’ Ian murmured, giving him a look that just said to go with it so they could do this.
Mickey sighed. ‘I apologise, Captain. I’ll be sure to watch my tone, and I cannot speak for Detective Gallagher, but I will be glad to undertake this mission.’
Ian smiled slightly, although still looking crestfallen, as he said, ‘Yeah, I will be happy to do it too.’
The captain nodded. ‘Good. Gallagher, you start Monday. Milkovich, you start Wednesday.’
‘What?’ Mickey frowned. ‘Why are we starting separately?’
‘You will be briefed at the same time, but you will start the mission on separate occasions because we do not want you to appear to be connected,’ the captain explained. ‘Now, off you go. I will call you in when you need to be briefed in the next few days.’
Mickey growled in annoyance as he yanked off his tie and threw it on the couch, throwing himself down along after it. ‘Can’t fuckin’ believe we were only chosen for this case because we’re fuckin’ Southside.’
Ian smiled slightly, but it was a sad one, as he took a seat next to his boyfriend. ‘You got chosen because you’re Southside, actually. I got thrown in along with you because I’m your partner. They didn’t want me.’
Mickey tilted his head back in exhaustion before turning to Ian, cupping his cheek. ‘You got chosen because you’re a fuckin’ great detective. They could’ve easily just shoved me in with that old fuck Worthington, but they didn’t. They picked you, because you’re great at what you do.’
Ian laughed. ‘Well, they didn’t only pick you because you’re hot, I promise.’
Mickey rolled his eyes, removing his hand and leaning back against the couch. ‘They chose me because I look like a mobster, not because I’m “hot”.’
Ian hummed before climbing on top of his boyfriend, straddling him and saying, ‘I don’t know…I definitely heard something in there about how hot you are…’
‘Fuck off.’ Mickey smirked before leaning in to kiss Ian.
504 Hours from Extraction
When Ian started earlier than Mickey, he didn’t expect how nervous he would be without his partner there. Mickey had sent him off that morning with some “you’re-gonna-be-great” morning sex and an actual, spoken, ‘you’re gonna be great’, but that didn’t make him feel any better.
Despite this mafia being a Russian group, Ian still got an Irish alias. Apparently they thought no one would believe that Ian had a Russian bone in his body, so enter: Hamish O’ Connor — a sturdy, tough Irish man making his way to being a Vor, despite his Irish roots. His boasting that he could hit a freckle from a mile away with an M16 was favourable to Petrov, and he was happy to bring him onboard as a six. However, he was still just another body and not anyone important enough to get the information he needed. He hoped that he either could rise in the ranks somehow, or Mickey would be chosen to be in a higher position. Due to his Ukrainian heritage, he passed easily enough as a Russian — a Russian named Feliks Mikhailov—, so Ian figured he would at least get a little higher.
Still, he wasn’t too keen on Mickey getting too close to Petrov. Petrov was a cruel man who took his perpetual anger out on anyone or anything in his way. Ian had already witnessed him giving one too many beat-downs, and Ian knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back if he was doing it to Mickey. It was the first time he thought to himself that maybe there was a problem with them being on a mission together.
He was already dreading Wednesday.
456 Hours from Extraction
When Ian came in for the daily meeting with Petrov he was ready for the announcement of Mickey joining their family. However, he was not prepared for how good Mickey looked all dressed up in a suit, nor was he prepared for the level Mickey had gotten into.
‘This is Feliks Mikhailvo. He will be my personal bodyguard,’ Petrov explained.
‘Sir, no disrespect intended, but he just joined. Shouldn’t your personal bodyguard be an experienced member of the Bratva?’ one of the sixes asked.
Without blinking, Petrov brought out his gun and shot the six in the chest, watching as he dropped lifeless to the ground with a sickening thud. ‘Any more questions?’ When everyone else shook their heads, he gestured to the dead six on the ground. ‘Clean that shit up.’
The two closest sixes picked up the dead body and dragged him out. Everyone was oblivious to the panicked Mickey, but Ian could see from his expression that he was horrified at what had just happened. Ian had been the same way on his first day, but now he was insanely used to it. A lot could happen in two days with the Russian mafia. Ian was currently more concerned with Mickey being placed in such a close position to Petrov than the corpse right now.
Ian watched as Petrov turned to Mickey and explained, ‘Feliks, things are done a particular way here, and all that you must do is follow the rules. Understand?’
Mickey nodded. ‘Understood, sir.’
Petrov smirked at that. ‘Good.’ His eyes scanned the room before meeting Ian’s. ‘Ah! O’ Connor, come here, would you?’
Ian nodded, coming over to where they stood. ‘Yes, sir?’
Petrov turned back to Mickey, giving him a small smile. ‘Feliks, this is Hamish O’ Connor — a six. He may be an Irish sonuvva bitch, but he’s a great shot.’ He sent Ian a wink. ‘Feliks, as my personal bodyguard, will be staying in the room beside mine from now on. Will you show him to his room for me, O’ Connor? I’m putting you in charge of showing young Feliks the ropes today, before you and he resume your duties tomorrow.’
‘Of course, sir,’ Ian agreed, panic flowing through him at the idea of Mickey staying there. ‘This way, Feliks.’ He gestured for Mickey to walk ahead of him, down the corridor.
Before Ian could follow after Mickey, who was already on his way, Petrov grabbed him by the arm and murmured, ‘Make sure you take care of that one. Don’t want to let a fine ass like that go to waste.’
Ian tried his best to loosen his jaw, not wanting it to obviously clench. He let out a joking laugh, not wanting Petrov to lose his shit, but he couldn’t help but say something. ‘All due respect, sir, won’t that complicate things for you? Feelings mixing up with your bodyguard?’
Petrov arched an eyebrow, looking devastatingly handsome as he did so, Ian had to begrudgingly admit. ‘Who said anything about feelings O’ Connor? No, I’ll get a real bodyguard on soon as I’ve got that one on a leash, if you know what I’m sayin’. Gonna have the boy eating out the palm of my hand. I’m one for the finer things in life, O’ Connor. Now get in there and take care of my new piece.’
Ignoring the fury raging through his bones, he followed after Mickey, who was staring back at them questioningly from the end of the corridor. As soon as they were out of sight, Ian strode towards Mickey’s new room and shut them in.
As soon as they were securely inside, Ian hissed, ‘We’re telling the captain we can’t do this.’
‘Ian—’
‘Don’t fucking argue with me, Mick. We’re giving up and going home. Right now,’ Ian demanded.
‘We can’t fuckin’ do that,’ Mickey whispered angrily. ‘We got a lot ridin’ on this shit, Gallagher.’
‘Petrov wants to fuck you, Mickey,’ Ian almost snarled, disgust clear in his tone. ‘He wants to make you his fuckin’…kept boy or some shit, I don’t know, he was being gross. He told me just then that he would keep you on as his bodyguard until you gave in and then he would just keep you around to fuck. That’s pretty much what he just told me.’
Mickey frowned. ‘That old fuck?’
‘He’s only, like, ten years older than us, Mick,’ Ian sighed. ‘That’s not the fucking point, anyway! Why aren’t you more freaked out?’
‘Well, I’m just not going to fuck him. Simple solution?’
Ian almost wanted to bash his own head against the door behind him. ‘That fucking guy? The one that just shot a man dead for hardly disagreeing with him? Yeah, I see you refusing to fuck him ending well.’ Ian’s voice softened and he reached up to cup Mickey’s face. ‘Mick, we’re not putting you in danger for this shit. I know we get into danger on a regular basis, but this is different. He could kill you.’
The fear was evident in Ian’s voice, but Mickey seemed sure he could handle it. ‘It’ll be fine, Ian. We can’t give up now, alright? We’re already in. Don’t worry, I won’t fuck him and I’ll make sure he won’t wanna fuck me, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to either of us.’
Ian felt tears stinging his eyes, realising he wasn’t going to be able to talk his boyfriend out of this. ‘You can’t promise that.’
‘Fuck you, man, I can do what I want,’ Mickey joked, kissing Ian gently before nodding seriously. ‘Now, show me the ropes, O’ Connor.’
288 Hours from Extraction
A week later, and they still had nothing good enough to be extracted early. Ian was searching like crazy as well, but in his low position, he couldn’t access much information. He was miserable.
He missed sleeping with Mickey in their bed. For the past week, it had been restless nights of worrying that that jackass Petrov was making a move on Mickey that night. It wasn’t that he was worried Mickey would follow through, he was worried about what would happen to him when he refused, and Ian wasn’t even there to protect him. The first night, he had tried sticking around, but Mickey had clearly seen him and texted him to fuck off, that he could handle this. Ian still worried, though.
Mickey hadn’t said a word about Petrov trying anything yet, so Ian figured that maybe Petrov was taking it slow, not wanting to scare Mickey off. Still, Ian was pretty much on constant alert around them, ready to attack Petrov at any moment. He knew it would be professionally stupid to intervene if something were happening, but it would be emotionally devastating not to. He would protect Mickey at all costs.
That morning, though, he came into the house to see Mickey standing next to Petrov…and he had a black eye. As soon as he caught Ian’s eye, he slightly shook his head, begging Ian not to do anything. Ian clenched his jaw, managing to ignore the fire in his veins telling him to fight and protect, and just did his job.
There was a moment they could catch alone, so Mickey took the time to explain to Ian and Ian took the time to touch Mickey gently, wanting to express all the love he could through the simple touches to his face. Apparently Petrov had come into Mickey’s room, suggesting they fuck, and Mickey had turned him down as politely as he could. Petrov had immediately raged, punching Mickey once and warning him to show him a little respect, before leaving the room.
‘I’ll fucking kill him,’ Ian said darkly as he traced the bruise surrounding Mickey’s eye. ‘After all this is done, and you’re out of danger, I’m hunting him down and killing him.’
‘I can take a fuckin’ punch, Gallagher,’ Mickey said dismissively, avoiding Ian’s eyes. ‘And I’ll keep taking them, because he’s not going to fucking touch me like that.’
Ian frowned, not understanding Mickey’s sudden submissive behaviour. The only time he had acted like this was that time his father had gotten out of jail and they had run into each other. Terry had given him a beating, uncaring of their public location, and Mickey had fought back, but not as hard as Ian had seen him fight some criminals. Luckily Ian had been there to get Terry off and arrest him, but Mickey had been more submissive and vulnerable those next few weeks then Ian had ever seen him. He recognised this look. Mickey was afraid. Petrov reminded Mickey of his father, and Ian was seething with rage that anyone was making Mickey feel like that again.
‘He’s not,’ Ian agreed. ‘Because we’re going to fucking get as much dirt on him as we can, and then we’re going home. You hear me? We’re going home.’
Mickey clenched his jaw, eyes still at the floor as he nodded. ‘Alright. We’ve been in here too long, Gallagher. Time to get out.’
168 Hours from Extraction
Petrov was growing antsy. He wanted Feliks to give in, and he wanted him to give in now. Apparently beating the little tease three times wasn’t enough. He really needed to be taught a lesson, but Petrov figured that maybe he would try one more time just to see if he would give in without a fight.
Just in case, he asked a few sixes to stay the night on security, including O’ Connor, who’d proved his loyalty immensely over the past few weeks. There seemed to be some kind of tension between him and Feliks as well, so he figured O’ Connor wouldn’t care what Petrov did to Feliks, and he would just stay out of it.
That night, he stationed O’ Connor down the hall and slipped into Feliks’ room. They both knew what he was doing here, so there was no time wasted on a lead-in. Petrov just sat next to him on his bed and gave him a chilling look.
‘Feliks, have you changed your mind?’ He placed a hand on Feliks’ thigh, feeling him tense immediately. He geared himself up for another rejection, already feeling the rage well up within him.
Still, Feliks took a deep breath and answered, ‘Yes.’
Petrov was surprised as he met Feliks’ deep blue eyes and repeated, ‘You have changed your mind?’
Feliks nodded, seeming to be holding his breath. Finally, he was getting with the program. ‘I have.’
Petrov immediately pushed Feliks onto his back and climbed onto him, holding down his arms. ‘Finally.’
Without hesitation, Feliks slammed his knee into Petrov’s groin before managing to release one of his arms, putting Petrov into a chokehold. ‘Tell me the Pakhan’s plans for Operation Guardian.’
Petrov struggled, trying to overpower Feliks, but he only gasped for air as Feliks held him tighter, cutting off his windpipe. It was strange; he’d never fought back quite like this before.
‘Easy there, Mikhailov,’ Hamish spoke as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. ‘Don’t want him passing out on us.’ His gun was trained on Petrov’s forehead and suddenly that whole freckle-from-a-mile-away thing had a whole new light on it.
‘You sure about that, Hamish?’ Feliks growled, before letting Petrov go.
Petrov opened his mouth to shout for his bodyguards, but Hamish only cocked the gun and warned, ‘One word to your people and you’re dead, Petrov. Tell us what we want to know or I swear to fucking God I will put you in the ground.’
Petrov found himself nothing but a total coward in the face of death and immediately told them everything, really not wanting the crazed redhead to kill him. After a moment, a SWAT team busted in and arrested everyone in the place.
As Petrov was being taken away, a hand grabbed his arm to still him and he saw Hamish O’ Connor — probably not his real name — holding onto him. After a second of glowering, he leant in and murmured, ‘No one touches my fucking boyfriend and gets away with it. You’re going away for a long time, Petrov, and if you get out and come after us, we’ll be ready for you.’
‘Your boyfriend was a total cock tease,’ Petrov snarled.
Before he knew it, Petrov was on the ground and officers were pulling an enraged Feliks Mikhailov away from him. Feliks — again, probably not his real name — spat down at him as Petrov was pulled onto his feet.
‘You fucking bastard. I hope you rot in your goddamn cell,’ Feliks growled, struggling against the officers who were holding him back.
‘Cool it,’ an officer warned and almost immediately, Feliks was torn from their arms and pulled into Hamish’s chest.
Petrov watched as they hugged, anger fuelling him as he was lead to a cop car. As he was shoved into the back, he made a promise to himself to get his revenge. Whatever it took, he would get his revenge.
Extracted
A week later and they were still on leave. Their captain decided they needed time to recover from their mission and had given them a month’s paid leave to do it. They had spent a majority of that leave in bed so far, making up for all the lost time. Mickey was still a little vulnerable, but healing well. Under order from the captain, they were ordered to attend therapy sessions to deal with what they had been through, and they were both getting through it emotionally. They were just glad to be safe and together.
‘Well…that sure was career-changing,’ Mickey commented randomly as they lay in bed one night.
‘Not worth it, though,’ Ian murmured, rubbing his cheek against Mickey’s chest. ‘You getting hurt isn’t worth anything.’
‘I’m fine now, though, ain’t I, Gallagher? Safe now. Got you.’
Ian merely nodded, not entirely sure how to express what he wants to. He wanted Mickey to know how scared he was — how worried he was that Mickey would get hurt even more. He wanted Mickey to know how much he loved him and how much he meant to him. He couldn’t find the right words, though, so he just climbed on top of his boyfriend, planting a firm kiss on his lips.
‘Yeah, you’re safe now,’ Ian agreed once he pulled away. ‘Never gonna let anything bad happen to you ever again. I love you.’
Mickey just gave him a soft smile, rubbing his arm gently. ‘Love you too.’