Ian arched his back and tilted his head back as he gyrated to the bass of the song, loving all the eyes on him as he rolled his body skillfully.

He loved being the center of attention. He loved watching strangers eye his taut, hard body, a body he had worked so hard for. He loved the lust in a man's eye as they reached forward and shoved money down his tight, barely-there shorts, so close to his cock. He loved providing the very material for the fantasies these guys would have later in the night when they were at home stroking their cocks.

He was easily the most popular dancer there. He was sought out on the regular, and he had earned himself center stage on most nights.

Most guys went crazy for the hot, redheaded twink, and it was definitely heaven on his bank account.

To put it mildly, he wasn't used to being turned down, wasn't used to not being wanted.

His eyes landed once again on the brunette at the corner of the bar. The guy had been coming into the Fairy Tail for the past few weeks now. He was sexy as fuck; dark hair, piercing blue eyes, rough around the edges. Exactly Ian's type.

Only problem was, the guy didn't seem to give Ian the time of day, and it drove the redhead insane.

He watched as the brunette sipped his drink, his eyes focused on Ethan, the blond dancer on the next stage over.

Ian ignored the bubble of jealousy in the pit of his stomach and forced himself to look away, focused on his dancing. There were a few dozen guys surrounding him, unable to take their eyes off of him—no doubt wanting to fuck him—but he couldn't help trying to get the attention of someone else.

After a few songs, he decided it was time to take a break and he hopped off the stage, allowing a few passing gropes from his admirers as he went. He walked up to the bar, right next to his mystery man, and leaned in to give the bartender his usual drink order. He then turned his head and eyed the brunette, whose eyes were still focused on Ethan.

Ian rolled his own eyes with an exaggerated sigh and turned around, pressing his back against the bar and leaning back on his elbows, giving the mystery guy an awesome view of his toned chest. "Ethan's a good dancer," he began, talking loud enough so that the other man could hear him over the music, "but I hear he's a lousy fuck."

"He's actually great in the sack," his crush said casually with an arch of his eyebrows as he took another sip of his drink.

Ian took the opportunity to get a closer look at him. He was even sexier up close. He trailed his eyes over the guy's body, noticing the tattoos on his hands, and he wanted the man even more. Ian wanted to feel those calloused, tattooed hands on every inch of his body; in his mouth, up his ass, stroking his cock.

The brunette threw him a sideways glance. "Something I can help you with?"

Ian leaned in closer to him. "Since Ethan is busy, I can take care of you," he said in his best seductive voice that normally worked like a charm on other guys. "Twenty-five will get you a dance, fifty will get you a private show in one of our private rooms."

"No, thanks," the man said coolly. "I'm good."

Ian frowned and then quickly recovered, not one to give up so easily. "Name's Curtis," he said, pressing even closer.

"I didn't ask for your name."

"Well, you might be screaming it later."

"Don't think so."

Ian tightened his jaw. The fact that this guy wasn't taking the bait made Ian want him even more. "Don't like what you see?"

The brunette finally looked at him fully, his eyes slowly taking Ian in. Finally, he said curtly, "not my type."

"Not into redheads, huh?" Ian said flatly.

"Not really."

Just as Ian was about to open his mouth to object—not ready to give up just yet—Ethan chose that exact moment to interrupt.

"There's my favorite customer," Ethan purred, throwing Ian a perturbed look as he took the guy's hand. "Private dance?"

Ian's crush downed the rest of his drink and placed his glass on the bar before allowing Ethan to lead him away. "See ya, Curtis," he said with a smirk over his shoulder.

Ian watched after him in disbelief. Still, he wasn't about to give up. He always got what he wanted.

Two nights later, Ian was dripping with sweat as he danced. It was a busy night and the crowd was rowdy. He took it all in, loving the attention as usual. He was already nearing five hundred dollars for the night, and he was only four hours into his shift.

Sure enough, his mystery man was there tonight. Once again, his attention was focused solely on Ethan. Fucking Ethan.

Ian rolled his eyes but went back to his dancing, intent on pleasing the guys who actually wanted him.

A little while later, he hopped off the stage and made his way over to his crush. After ordering his drink, he leaned into him. "Can I at least get your name?"

The other man smirked at him over the rim of his glass. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Not when it's something I really want," Ian said, his eyes dropping to the other man's lips.

Finally, he said, "name's Scott."

"Scott," Ian said, trying the name out on his tongue. "You don't look like a Scott."

"Yeah, well, you don't look like a Curtis," Scott said flatly.

Ian leaned into him enough so that his bare chest rubbed against the other man's forearm. "I'll be whoever you want me to be."

The brunette stared back, unyielding. "Maybe I'll just call you Ian."

Ian recoiled. "What?"

The man laughed into his glass, his eyebrows arching.

"How do you know my fuckin' name?"

"Not so confidant now, are we?"

"Fuck you," Ian snapped and turned to walk away. He then stopped abruptly and spun back around. "How the fuck do you know my name?" he asked again, moving closer.

"Chill, red," the brunette said. "I know who you are. We grew up in the same fuckin' neighborhood, for fuck's sake."

Ian narrowed his eyes at him. Sure, something about the guy seemed familiar, but he definitely would have remembered him. "Who the fuck are you?"

Just then, fucking Ethan came sauntering over.

"Ready for me, Mickey?"

The brunette tensed visibly and sent Ethan a hard look for giving up his real name.

Ian watched as the enigma of a man stood up and followed Ethan towards the private rooms. He was intent on finding out just who this fucking guy was…and then he planned on fucking his brains out.

It had been nearly a week before Ian saw his crush again. He finished his dance and made his way to the bar. "Hey, Mickey."

Mickey turned his head, throwing Ian a look of utter distaste. "Don't you know how to take a fucking hint?"

"I figured out who you are."

"Good for you. You want a fucking cookie?"

"Never would've thought I'd find a Milkovich at the Fairy Tail."

"Yeah, well, mention it to anyone and I'll kick your fucking ass."

Ian smirked, undeterred, and leaned against the bar. "Ethan isn't here tonight."

"S'alright. I'm sure I can find someone else to suck my dick."

Ian leaned in a little closer, catching a whiff of Mickey's cologne. He smelled fucking incredible. "I'll suck your dick," he said, his voice raspy. He searched Mickey's face for a reaction, but got none. "Make you forget all about Ethan."

"Told you, not interested."

"Why the fuck not?" Ian exclaimed, since Mickey was driving him absolutely fucking insane. "Y'mind telling me what the fuck's so wrong with me?"

"Told you, not into redheads."

"Well then, I'll turn out the fucking lights," Ian said flatly.

"I'm sure you can get one of these geriatric fags to let you suck their dicks," Mickey said as his eyes surveyed the crowd.

"Well, I don't want to suck their dicks," Ian said, leaning in even closer. "I want your dick."

Mickey motioned to the bartender for another drink.

Ian eyed him, running out of the confidence that usually came so easily to him. It was driving him nuts that Mickey didn't want him. He just didn't get it. He decided to try a different approach. He was going to make it impossible for Mickey to ignore him.

"Fine," he said stiffly. "I know when I'm not wanted. It's your fuckin' loss. I would've rocked your world." He pushed away from the bar and walked into the crowd, searching for a pawn to speed his game up. He settled on an average-looking guy who looked thrilled to be the current center of Ian's attention.

He turned and backed his ass up against the guy's crotch as he gripped the man's tie over his shoulder. He grinded and chewed on his lower lip and pretended to be getting into it. He looked up to find that Mickey had turned in his seat and wasn't even paying him any attention. He immediately stopped dancing, his ego shot to hell.

"Why'd you stop," the stranger asked hotly in his ear, his hand reaching around to grab Ian's cock through his small shorts.

"Hey, no fucking touching," Ian spat before walking away from the man, grumbling under his breath as he did so.

Three nights later, Ian found Ethan alone in the employee locker room. He thought about it for only a few seconds before walking up to the blond twink. "Hey."

Ethan looked up in disinterest as he rubbed himself down with glittered lotion. "Hey."

Ian studied the other man. He wasn't blind, the guy was hot…if you liked too skinny, elfish-looking blond twinks. He honestly didn't know what Mickey saw in him. Ian didn't want to seem conceited, but he was a lot fucking hotter than this dude.

"So, uh, that Mickey guy…he a regular customer of yours?" he asked nonchalantly.

Ethan shrugged. "I guess. I see him a couple nights a week. He always pays for one of the private rooms. Doesn't like to be out in the open. I usually just give him head and he sends me on my way. Doesn't say much."

Ian ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was probably stepping over some sort of line here. "Next time he comes in, I want him."

Ethan snorted. "Don't you think that's his choice to make?"

"Of course it is," Ian said with a shrug. "All I'll need for you to do is get him in the room and put a blindfold on him. I'll go in and do the rest."

"I don't know, man. He's a good tipper and I could really use the money."

"I don't care about that, I just want him. I'll give you the tip after I give him the tip," he finished with an amused smirk, quite proud of his pun.

Ethan shrugged. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Ian smiled softly to himself. He was going to make it hard on Mickey to turn him down.

Ian was in luck, Mickey was there that night.

He made his way to the bar and leaned in to order his usual apple martini. He then turned his eyes to Mickey and licked his lips. "Are you warming up to me yet?"

"Not gonna happen, gingerbread," Mickey said, his eyebrows arching.

"You don't know what you're missing."

"Pretty sure I don't want to know."

Their repartee was less catty now, more playful, and he could tell Mickey wasn't as disgusted as he had initially pretended to be.

Ian moved closer without warning until he was pressed between Mickey's legs, pressing Mickey back against the bar. They stared each other down, their faces inches apart.

Mickey looked unimpressed even though his adam's apple bobbed quickly.

"You won't even give me a chance?" he asked, leaning in close to whisper in Mickey's ear, his hands gripping the edge of the bar, caging Mickey in.

"Just give up, man. You're not even that hot."

"Bullshit," Ian said, pulling back to stare into Mickey's eyes. "There has to be another reason."

Mickey bit his lower lip and shot his eyebrows upwards, shaking his head.

Ian searched his face before groaning and pushing himself away from Mickey.

Just then, fucking Ethan came walking over. "Ready for me?"

Mickey stood up and grabbed Ethan by the back of the head, pulling him in for a searing, tongue-tangling kiss.

Ian seethed with jealousy as he watched the two men kiss in front of him.

Finally, they pulled apart.

"See ya, red," Mickey said breathlessly, shooting Ian an intense look as he followed the blond dancer towards the private rooms.

Ian stewed in his jealousy and waited a fair amount of time before following after the pair, hoping Ethan was still willing to go through with it. He stopped outside the door and shuffled nervously.

The door suddenly opened and then Ethan slipped out, waving his hand frantically, signaling Ian to slip inside. "You owe me big time for this," Ethan whispered as Ian passed him.

Ian shot Ethan a grin and smacked him playfully on the ass before entering the small private room and closing the door behind him.

"The fuck's going on? Can we get this show on the road? I ain't got all fuckin' night."

Ian leaned back against the door and stared at Mickey sitting on the small red velvet sofa, a blindfold covering his eyes. He pushed himself away from the door and walked over to Mickey.

"Why the fuck am I wearing a blindfold right now, anyway?" Mickey asked, unaware of Ian's presence.

Ian slowly dropped to his knees in front of Mickey and bravely ran his hands up Mickey's thighs, stopping his hands right before reaching his cock.

He watched as Mickey visibly swallowed. He smiled as he then ran his palm over the bulge that was trapped in Mickey's jeans. He unbuttoned Mickey's button and then unzipped him, reaching in and grabbing Mickey's cock.

He stroked Mickey's cock a few times before he leaned in and touched his tongue to the drop of precome on the tip, moaning at the taste.

"Fuck," Mickey moaned, leaning his head back.

Ian sucked and slurped at the head of Mickey's cock a little before pulling back. "Mm, you taste even better than I thought you would."

Mickey stiffened and then quickly tore the blindfold off, glaring down at Ian. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"About to give you the best blowjob of your fucking life, relax," Ian said haughtily. He was then taken off guard when Mickey shot to his feet, grabbing Ian by the throat as he did so and dragging him up from his knees. In one fluid motion, he slammed Ian back against the wall and pressed into him.

Mickey glared at Ian, clearly furious about being tricked. His face was beet red and his chest heaved, his hand still wrapped around Ian's throat.

Ian slowly reached up and wrapped his hand around Mickey's wrist and removed Mickey' hand from his throat. He then smirked when he saw Mickey begin to soften around the edges and he took the opportunity to drop down to his knees.

Mickey stared down at Ian, still stewing with anger but also incredibly fucking horny, and fuck if Ian didn't look beautiful down on his fucking knees like that, his hard cock pressing against Ian's chin.

Ian kept his eyes locked on Mickey's as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Mickey's jeans and tugged them down and over his hips. He opened wide and took Mickey's cock in his mouth, never once breaking eye contact.

"Fuck," Mickey sputtered as Ian took him completely in, swallowing as he deep-throated. He grabbed a hold of the guy's stupid fucking red hair with both hands and guided him.

Ian reached around and grabbed handfuls of Mickey's ass as he let the other man fuck his mouth, taking everything Mickey was giving him.

Mickey licked his lips and tossed his head back as he continued thrusting in and out of that tight, hot little mouth, loving the way Ian was taking him all in. "Such a good fucking mouth," he moaned.

Ian smiled around Mickey's cock before reaching up to wrap a hand around the base. He picked up his pace and pumped his hand, wanting Mickey to come for him. He reached down and palmed his own cock through his tiny shorts.

Mickey stared down at Ian through hooded eyes and watched as he touched himself. "Yeah, touch that cock," he groaned.

Ian moaned around Mickey as he continued sucking, his chin wet and sticky with saliva, but he didn't care much. All he cared about was getting Mickey off. He licked slowly from base to tip, making sure to keep eye contact with Mickey the whole time, before engulfing his dick once more.

Mickey tugged hard on Ian's hair and then finally shuddered as his orgasm rolled through him. He emptied his hot load down Ian's throat and continued to fuck Ian's mouth until he was spent.

Ian sat back on his heels and stared up at Mickey with a cocky smirk as he wiped at the corner of his mouth. He was caught by surprise when Mickey suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

"Get up," Mickey rasped. He then pushed Ian roughly against the wall, holding him against it with a forearm to his chest. "Do anything like that again," he grumbled, running his hand down Ian's bare chest, down his chiseled abdomen, and ending at his hard cock that was straining against his tight little shorts. "I'll rip this cock off and shove it down your throat."

Ian moaned and bit his lip as Mickey stroked him through his shorts.

Mickey leaned in closer, his warm breath caressing Ian's face. "You got it?" he said huskily as he reached into Ian's shorts and pulled his dick out.

"Christ," Ian groaned as he reached up to grip Mickey's shoulders.

"You do have a nice fucking cock," Mickey muttered as he looked down between them to watch his own hand work on Ian. "I'll give you that much."

Ian whimpered when Mickey's thumb rounded over the tip of his sensitive dick.

"Feel good?" Mickey asked, his voice hoarse next to Ian's ear.

"So fucking good," Ian sputtered, already nearing the edge.

"You gonna come for me?"

"Fuck yeah, so close," Ian choked.

"Good," Mickey said before abruptly removing his hand, causing Ian to whimper in protest.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Teaching you a fucking lesson," Mickey said before walking over to grab his coat and throwing some bills on the sofa.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"No one gets one over on me," Mickey said as he slipped his coat on. He then threw Ian a smirk before exiting the room.

Ian stood slumped against the wall, still panting and heaving, his cock still hard and dripping. He ran a hand down his sweaty face and groaned, knowing he was going to have to take care of himself before going back out there and returning to his job.

Fucking Mickey Milkovich.

The next night, Mickey walked into the Fairy Tail and looked around.

Tim, the bartender, walked over to him. "Want your usual drink?"

"Not right now, man. Looking for someone," Mickey said as his eyes skimmed over the crowd.

"You looking for Ethan?" Tim asked. "He's right over there."

Mickey barely heard him though; he had already spotted Ian through the crowd. "Going with something a little different tonight," he said more to himself than to Tim. He pushed his way through the crowd and stopped next to where Ian was.

Ian looked up from the conversation he had been having with one of the bouncers, his surprise evident on his face. "Mickey?"

"Looking for a private dance," Mickey said, reaching up and rubbing his thumb over his lower lip as he eyed Ian up in his fucking ridiculous gold shorts.

Ian smirked back at him before nodding. He grabbed Mickey's hand and then turned around, draping Mickey's arm over his shoulder as he led them back towards the private rooms.

Neither one of them noticed Ethan watching after them, shaking his head in reproof with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Looks like he had lost another one to Ian fucking Gallagher.