As soon as he entered, the smell of body oil and liquor hit him in the face. A wonderfully familiar, and frankly, comforting smell. The same familiar woman at the counter to his left, and the catwalk on his left. He could hear the music playing, and voices calling out to the dancer.

He smiled. He walked over to the stage, and leaned against the railing, watching the dancer. He could vaguely hear Wade Hebert, talking to the girls that were attending to him. Did he ever leave? Probably not. Trevor wouldn't allow it. He didn't want his friend to find out that he had killed his cousin. Typical Trevor. He was probably scared that Wade wouldn't want anything to do with him if he found out.

"Mikey!" Michael smiled, hearing the familiar voice calling his name. He turned from the stage, and faced Trevor, who was walking towards him all smiles.

"Hey, Trevor, how's it been?" Michael asked, approaching Trevor, albeit a little cautiously. Trevor let out a dry laugh, and looked beyond him at the woman on the pole.

"Bored, Mikey, fucking bored." It was Michael's turn to laugh. "I know what you mean, believe me, so-"

Trevor cut him off in his eagerness, "Wanna hang out, or what?"

"Sure T, sure."

For a moment, they just kind of stood there awkwardly, before Trevor moved over to a booth. Michael followed.

They sat down apart from each other, and Michael watched the dancer as Trevor ordered them some drinks.

"So, Mikey, tell me, what brings you hither, to my domain?"

"Tsch, nothing much, boredom mostly." Michael turned his gaze back to Trevor, who emitted a kind of almost crushed 'oh'. Michael was quick to add another sentence, "What? I can't come and see my best friend once in awhile?"

Trevor's face lit back up almost immediately. "Of course you can sugar-tits!"

Michael cringed at the nickname, noting that other people had probably heard it. "Damn it T, do you have to call me that in public, too?"

"Yes."

Michael huffed, downing his glass of alcohol. "So, what have you been up to, Trev?"

Trevor downed his glass as well, and glanced at Michael. "Oh, you know, just the usual...things. Hahaha."

"I'm sure you are, T. Hey, Trevor?"

Trevor looked at Michael, and cracked a smile, "Yeah, M?"

"When are you planning on letting Wade out of here? I've just noticed that he hasn't left since you got the place."

Trevor laughed loudly, almost mockingly, "Let's see...probably...never."

Michael just shook his head, and smiled, watching the new dancer on the stage. He almost laughed when his mind wandered to that one bank heist...Proto-Hipster, Ha! Agitating Trevor was one of his favorite pastimes, albeit a very dangerous pastime.

They sat there for a few hours, reminiscing about the big heist, various others, miniscule details of there lives, things like that. Michael hadn't really noticed how much he had missed this...right here, right now. How much he missed Trevor.

Trevor seemed to be the only person who could get him to relax, to unwind. And he loved it. He never really noticed how much he missed

Trevor.

Sure, Trevor was an asshole, a druggie, and very much insane, but he still loved him. After all this time. Michael laughed dryly, downing his seemingly 15th drink.

Trevor fucking Phillips.

"Michael?"

Michael looked up at him, "Yeah?"

Trevor raised an eyebrow, and smirked, "You okay? You went, like, reeeeaaaalllyyy quiet for awhile, sugar." He slurred.

"I was just thinking, thinking, about, ya'know, stuff." Michael's vision was blurred, and his words slurred as he talked. He figured he'd had a little too much to drink. But hell, he was letting loose.

"OH!" Trevor yelled, quite a lot louder than was really necessary, "About what?" He proceeded to fall out of the booth, and Michael sat back and stifled his laughter.

"What?! That's not funny, Mikey!" Trevor pulled himself back into the booth, a small smile playing on his lips, "Now tell me! Before I...I...oh fuck...I don't know what! But it probably...won't be pleasant!"

"I was just thinkin' bout you, T." Michael slurred, whispering it in his ear, like it was some big secret or something. Trevor acted surprised in his drunken stupor.

"OH! Well, I'm flattered, that I'm the one on your mind, sugar-tits."

Michael studied Trevor for a moment, his drunken haze wearing off. He watched Trevor, as he glanced around, fidgeted in the chair, yawned, and then looked back at Michael. Their eyes met, and locked, for what seemed like an eternity. Trevor leaned forward, nose to nose with Michael, Michael's face flushing red. Trevor leaned a bit closer, and...

"Stop staring." Trevor leaned back in his chair once again, smiling lazily at Michael. Michael rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure thing, sorry T."

"You wanna come back to my office?"

Michael scrunched his face, in confusion, "For what?"

"To...talk." Trevor shrugged, and Michael knew he wasn't telling the truth. But he agreed anyways, and followed Trevor to the back office. He hoped that Trevor had gotten rid of the body in his fridge. He had found out about it the second time he had visited. It was revolting.

Once they entered, Trevor closed the door. "So, whatcha wanna do, sugar-tits?"

Michael huffed. "I dunno T."

Trevor was on him in a milisecond, body pressed flush up against his, lips barely touching his neck, "I do." He breathed, ghosting his lips against Michael's neck, making him shudder with unintentional excitement.

He could feel his cock twitch, at the feeling of Trevor's body against his. He closed his eyes, as Trevor's hands found their way to his hips. As much as Michael wanted to push him away, he didn't. Half of him wanted to punch Trevor, the other half wanted to let him continue. Like before North Yankton. Michael had assumed it'd only be a matter of time, after Trevor was done hating him, that he'd attempt to initiate this again.

Michael had hoped he wouldn't try, but here he was, desperate as hell, initiating it again. Michael exhaled heavily, as Trevor nipped at his neck, his hands wandering up Michael's shirt to squeeze a nipple.

"Trevor..."Michael started, but couldn't seem to finish the sentence. Trevor leaned closer, a hand wandering behind Michael to his ass. "Tell me, Mikey, has Amanda..." he inhaled seductively into Michael's ear, "taken car of your ...other needs?" He asked, squeezing his ass firmly.

"Trevor!"

"What?" He asked innocently, hooking a finger in the front of Michael's shorts.

Michael went to answer, but was cut of by a hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing gently, and twisting ever so slightly.

"Jesus, T..." Trevor smiled against Michael's neck, closing his eyes momentarily. "C'mon, Michael."

The use of Michael's full name was attention grabbing and very...arousing, coming from Trevor. Michael pressed into Trevor wrapping his own arms around his neck. Trevor's voice lowered an octave as he pushed Michael forcefully into his desk.

Michael felt the wooden desk smash up against his ass and lower back, letting out a quiet noise of displeasure, as he sat on the desk.

Trevor walked in closer to him. "Oh yeah baby, you're getting it."

Michael wrapped his legs around Trevor's waist, and pulled him closer, until Trevor's clothed member touched his.

Michael let out a very lewd, delighted noise, knowing that he was absolutely driving Trevor up the wall. Trevor bit his neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and kissed him savagely. With Michael, Trevor wasn't usually gentle. It was rough, and amazing, and they like it that way.

Trevor began to sloppily fuck with his short, trying to get them off, Michael helped him, and pulled off his underwear as well. Trevor didn't fuck with his shirt. It wasn't in the way. What Trevor was after was down. Michael undid Trevor's pants with ease, sliding Trevor's dick out, stroking it slightly. Trevor shuddered bodily, letting out a contented moan, that sent shivers through Michael.
"You ready sugar-tits?" Trevor asked, positioning himself toward Michael.

"You bet I am, T." Michael wrapped his legs tighter around Trevor, pulling him towards him. Trevor entered him slowly at first, then pushed himself forcefully to the hilt.

Michael howled in pain, Trevor covering his lips with his own in a futile attempt to stifle the cry. "Trevor!"

"Yeah..."

"You could have warned me, fuck!" Trevor smiled devilishly, and glanced down at Michael, once again lowering his voice an octave, "Where's the fun in that, sugar-tits?"

Michael huffed, and began moving Trevor's hips with his legs, groaning out loud. Trevor hummed, but picked up speed, driving Michael into fits of moans and cries.

"Oh yeah, Mikey, keep it going!" Trevor said seductively, speeding up slightly, fucking Michael right there on the desk. Michael moaned, throwing his head back, as Trevor hit his prostate.

"Fuck T, Fuck, fuck, fuck," Michael continued, bouncing his body back into Trevor's.

Michael smiled as Trevor threw his head back and moaned out loud, Michael's moans driving him into a frenzy. Michael knew what he liked.

"Ah, fuck, T!" Trevor hummed in response, angling his thrusts a little preciser. Michael went to lean back onto the desk, when Trevor lifted him, turned around, and put Michael's back against the wall.

"Jesus, fuck! Damn it, Trevor! Ahhh..." Trevor again hummed in response, bouncing Michael onto his dick as they stood against the wall.

"Moan it." Trevor commanded him, and Michael huffed. "C'mon," Trevor urged, "moan my name Mikey, I need you too moan it."

Michael looked Trevor in the eyes, and smirked. "Make me."

The challenge was accepted. Trevor through Michael onto the couch next to his desk, and was back in him in seconds.

"Ah fuck T, fuck, there, fuck harder!"

Trevor obliged, fucking harder, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. They were both lost by now, in each other, as Trevor started his mantra of 'I love you', over and over again. And Michael lost himself in it.

When Michael kissed him tenderly, and whispered into his ear, more, Trevor lost it. He gave him more. More kisses, more thrusts, faster, harder, he gave Michael everything. Like he always had. He gave him more. He made him feel, he made him feel everything.

And it made Trevor feel too.

And with one last thrust, Trevor's name rang out through the room, bouncing off the walls, in an almost scream, into their ears. Michael's name is a whisper in his ear, almost like the wind, as the two collapse into each other on the couch, sweat soaked bodies pressed together.

Trevor looked at Michael again, this time with a soft gaze, "I love you."

Michael smiled and laughed, "I love you too, Trevor..." Michael paused a moment, and laughed out loud again, "You still Fucking bored, T?"

"Hell no, sugar-tits."