A week and a half later, Ian woke up to a mouth on his dick.

He opened his bleary eyes to find his fiancé's bobbing head. He groaned and closed his eyes, deciding to enjoy the moment. Shortly after Ian came, Ayden broke the news that he had to leave town for a business trip to Pittsburgh. Ian should have known something was up, considering Ayden was never spontaneous like that unless he was about to deliver bad news.

Ian sat oddly on the edge of the king-sized bed and watched as Ayden neatly folded his clothes and placed them carefully inside his luggage. It took all the willpower Ian had in himself to not lean over and grab the perfectly folded clothes out of the Burberry luggage and throw everything carelessly on the floor. Ayden's anal retentiveness really was ridiculous sometimes.

"How can they just spring this trip on you last minute like this?" Ian groused.

"They can do whatever they want, Ian. I work for them, not the other way around," Ayden said with a sigh. "I don't know what you want me to tell you here. I don't have a choice in this, you know that."

"I know you don't, but a little warning woulda been nice. What if we had something planned this weekend that had to do with our wedding?" Ian snapped. "They can't expect you to just drop everything at the last fuckin' minute and go."

"Well, considering they're the ones paying for this beautiful penthouse you're living in, those nice clothes you're wearing, and the expensive cologne you have on, they can expect whatever they want from me."

Ian puffed out his cheeks, shook his head and looked away, wondering why he even bothered arguing with the other man, he could never win.

Ayden sighed and leaned down. "You're being dramatic," he said before pressing a kiss to the top of Ian's head, "but what else is new, right?"

Ian didn't answer, he just watched as Ayden methodically continued to pack.

"I'll only be gone until tomorrow night," Ayden continued. "I'm sure you can find something to keep yourself busy until then. Maybe you can pick up an extra shift at the club, maybe do some running? You can work off some of those calories from that pizza you scarfed down last night."

Ian sighed and watched as Ayden finally zipped up his luggage. He got up and followed Ayden to the door.

Ayden put on his jacket and then turned to Ian, giving him a sympathetic smirk. "You're cute, you know that?" he asked, reaching out to flick Ian's bottom lip with his thumb. "I'll be back tomorrow night." He leaned in and kissed Ian sweetly on the mouth.

Ian grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and attempted to deepen the kiss, but found Ayden pulling away only a few moments later.

"Come on, Ian, I'm going to miss my flight. I don't have time for this, I'm running late enough as it is." He kissed Ian quickly on the forehead and turned to open the door. "We'll kiss all you want when I get back. Love you."

"You too," Ian said. He forced a small smile and watched as Ayden walked out the door without another word. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and then turned around to eye the empty penthouse, wondering how he was going to keep himself preoccupied for the day.

Ian walked over to the plush white couch and plopped down on it as he scrolled through his phone. After checking his Twitter and Facebook, he began scrolling through his contacts. Without really thinking about it, and even though he had a dozen other friends he could have easily called to hang out with, he stopped on Mickey's name. He thought about it for only a few seconds before pressing the call button.

After a few rings, Mickey answered, his voice sounding husky from sleep. "What?"

"Hey, um… is this a bad time?" Ian asked, smiling despite himself at Mickey's grumpy tone.

"Gallagher?" Mickey rasped after a short pause.

"Shit, sorry, is this stepping over some sort of line? Should I not have called you? This is definitely stepping over a line, isn't it?" Ian rambled, suddenly wondering what the hell he was doing. He had Mickey's number for strictly professional, wedding-planning purposes only.

"Nah, man, no, it's cool," Mickey grumbled. "I just woke up. What's up? Got some wedding shit you wanna talk about or something?"

Ian knew the next words out of his mouth were definitely, absolutely, one-hundred-and-ten percent stepping over some sort of line, but he said the words anyway. "Calling to see if maybe you wanted to hang out today?"

After their second meeting at the coffee shop the week before, Ian couldn't seem to stop thinking about Mickey. He'd had a good time with him, laughing and joking over overly sweet coffee and scones. They had barely even talked about the wedding, despite that being the sole purpose of the meeting, and Ian didn't even want to think about what that meant. But he'd enjoyed himself and definitely wanted to hang out with Mickey more… in a strictly platonic way, of course.

"You wanna hang out?" Mickey asked, sounding confused and unsure. "Today?"

"Yeah," Ian said, trying to decide if he heard any doubt in Mickey's voice or not. "I mean unless you're busy. You can say no if you want, I'll completely understand. It's just that Ayden left for a business trip for the weekend and I have nothing to do all day. I don't have to be at the club until ten, and I remember you telling me at the coffee shop that you have Saturdays off, so," Ian paused, a little breathless, "and you know you can stop me here at any point and tell me to fuck off if you want."

Mickey laughed. "Nah, man, I wanted to see how long it would take for you to shut the fuck up."

Ian couldn't help but smile. "So, what d'you say?"

"Actually… a buddy of mine at the diner gave me two tickets to the Sox game tonight," Mickey supplied. "I wasn't gonna go, but if you want—"

"I love baseball," Ian cut in, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Yeah?" Mickey asked. "You wanna go?"

"Yeah," Ian said, still smiling like an idiot. "Yeah, I wanna go."

"Alright, shoot me a text with your address," Mickey said. "I can pick you up around two."

"I'll be ready."

After saying their goodbyes, Ian stood up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. He hesitated briefly as he caught sight of a picture of Ayden and himself sitting on a bookshelf, looking happy and in love in the very early stages of their relationship. The smile slipped from Ian's face. He shook the guilty feeling off and went to get ready.

After all, there was nothing to feel guilty about. He was just going to a baseball game with a friend.

"Who was that?" Mandy asked from the couch as she painted her toenails.

"Uh, just a buddy from work," Mickey answered as he continued staring blankly down at his phone, knowing Mandy would only give him hell if she knew who he'd really been talking to on the phone.

"Who?" Mandy asked. "Do I know them?"

"None of your goddamn business, that's who," Mickey snapped as he finally placed his phone down. "Why the fuck do you gotta know who?"

"Just curious, assface. Was it Jermaine?" Mandy inquired. "You finally decide to make his day and let him suck your dick? You know he wants to."

"It wasn't fuckin' Jermaine, Jesus," Mickey spat before heading towards the bathroom, intent on taking a shower.

He was still frowning a little as he undressed, still a little shocked that Ian had called to hang out. He knew it was a terrible idea and could only lead to bad things; yet he still took a shower, put on decent clothes, splashed on some cologne, and was out the door at a quarter 'til two to pick Ian up.

Mickey sat parked in front of the luxury high-rise, feeling even smaller and even more insignificant than he usually did. He looked away and shook his head curtly with a wry laugh. Of fucking course someone like Ayden would live in a place like that.

Mickey then, in the back of his mind, couldn't help but wonder why someone like Ian Gallagher, who obviously lived in the lap of luxury, would want anything to do with someone like him, a lowlife thug from the South Side of Chicago. He was definitely beginning to see exactly what Ian saw in Ayden, that was for damn sure. He then, in the deep recesses of his mind, knew he could never offer Ian anything even remotely close to that, which made Ian seem even more unattainable than ever.

Mickey quickly squashed that train of thought. Ian didn't want anything Mickey had to offer. They were just friends, nothing more. They would never be anything more, he had to remember that.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Mickey turned his head to find Ian exiting the building, stopping to chat with the elderly doorman as he did so. Mickey didn't realize it at first, but he was smiling just looking at Ian, who was throwing his head back laughing and talking animatedly with his hands. The guy really liked to talk, didn't he?

Finally, Ian made his way to Mickey's beat-up Honda Accord and got in, his face split in a wide grin. "What's up, Mick?"

Mickey just eyed Ian up and down, taking in his White Sox jersey and White Sox beanie hat with a poof at the top, complete with a gigantic black, white, and silver foam finger.

"Are you serious right now?" Mickey inquired. "You're that guy?"

"What?" Ian asked with a shrug. "I told you I like baseball."

Mickey just continued staring at him as he restarted the car and shifted gears. "You're fuckin' embarrassing, you know that?"

Ian just laughed and bopped Mickey on the nose with his foam finger.

Mickey couldn't help but laugh with Ian as they drove off.

After parking and weaving their way through the swarming crowd, they found their seats up in peanut heaven and sat down. Mickey secretly wished he'd been able to treat Ian to much better seats, seats Ian was probably accustomed to. To make up for the crappy seats, Mickey figured the least he could do was buy Ian a hot dog.

"You hungry?" Mickey asked, wanting to get the food before the first inning started.

"I can always eat," Ian said as he looked around, taking everything in.

"Wait here, I'll go get us some food."

Twenty minutes later, Mickey returned to his seat, grumpy and irritated as all hell after having to deal with the long-ass lines and the less-than-pleasant crowd. Of fucking course he'd already missed the top half of the inning.

Ian glanced up upon Mickey's return, a grin plastered on his face. "You missed it! We're already up by two runs! Jennings hit a double out in right field!"

Mickey shot him a perturbed look as he handed Ian a hot dog with the works and a large pop. "You don't fuckin' say?"

"Thanks, man, this looks so fuckin' good. I'm starving," Ian said as he grabbed the messy hot dog and took a giant bite. "Oh, mm, so good!" he practically moaned through his mouthful of food. "Nothin' like a ballpark wiener."

As Mickey watched Ian, his irritation dissipated. Before he knew it, he was smiling again in spite of himself. "You're a fuckin' mess, dude. You got ketchup all over your face. You're like a goddamn child."

"I can't help it," Ian said as he wiped at his mouth with a napkin. He watched as Mickey bent over a little, still laughing. "You should laugh more, you know. It looks good on you."

Mickey's laughter softened up a little, and he caught Ian's eyes with his own. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You flirtin' with me, Gallagher?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ian said before taking another massive bite of his hot dog, his eyes locked with Mickey's.

"Ay, man, don't look at me like that with your mouth wrapped around a hot dog. I might get the wrong idea," Mickey joked.

Ian snorted through his mouthful of food, almost choking but quickly composing himself.

"Asshole," Mickey muttered in amusement as he took a sip of his pop, still chortling.

"Anyway," Ian continued after his own laughter died down. "Ayden doesn't really let me eat shit like this when we're out. It's always vegan hot dogs, with organic ketchup, on gluten-free buns, on recyclable plates… "

"What do you mean he doesn't let you? The hell kinda shit is that?" Mickey asked before he took a bite of his own hot dog, watching Ian with a raised eyebrow.

Ian shrugged as he looked out towards the field, his eyes squinting against the hot, afternoon sun. "I just mean I usually stick to the safe options, so I don't hear him complain. He's a big health food junkie. He can get pretty intense about it sometimes."

Mickey continued watching him, wanting so badly to ask Ian what the fuck he was doing with the guy, but he refrained. It wouldn't be very wedding-planner of him.

They watched the game in amicable silence for a little while before Ian spoke again. "I can't even remember the last time I've been to a game. Probably when I was about fifteen with my older brother Lip. Ayden doesn't really like doin' this type of shit. His idea of fun is going to the museum or to art exhibits or cocktail parties, you know… fancy, boring shit."

Mickey leaned forward in his seat a little and wiped at the sweat on his forehead with his forearm. "Fuck, man. Seems like it's always about him. What about you? Does he ever do anything you like to do?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders as he continued watching the game and sipping his pop. "Not really. I mean, I can't really blame him, though. He never really has much time. He's always working. When he's not working, he's at the gym. When he's not at the gym, he's sleeping. But I'm used to it, you know? We make it work. We have to."

Mickey watched Ian, taking in his profile, thinking not for the first time that day that the guy was prettier than any guy had a right to be. "He should take you out more. You deserve that, you know? You deserve a guy who appreciates you and does shit you like." Mickey immediately stopped talking and scrubbed a hand over his face. He suddenly wished he had a filter for his fucking mouth. Where was the sappy bullshit coming from, anyway?

Ian turned his head and looked at Mickey, their eyes catching for a few heartbeats. He laughed lightly with a shrug of his shoulders. "He appreciates me. He just has his own way of showing it. His way of showing it is buying me nice things, taking me to nice dinners. I mean, I can't really complain, can I?"

Mickey tore his eyes away from Ian's and sipped at his drink, his earlier thoughts about never being good enough for Ian eating away at him again.

"Jesus, I probably sound like such a fuckin' gold digger right now, don't I?"

"Nah, man," Mickey said, leaning back in his seat as he pretended to focus his attention on the game. "There's nothing wrong with liking nice things."

Suddenly, the home team hit a grand slam against the visiting team, and Ian stood up and waved his giant foam finger around excitedly as he jumped up and down, hitting Mickey in the face a few times. Mickey sat there grumpily but didn't complain.

There was a break between innings and everyone around them started to get up from their seats to make their way to the concession stands. Cheesy pop music began playing over the loudspeakers, and then suddenly the Kiss Cam sprang to life on the Jumbotron.

Ian laughed as he watched unsuspecting couples getting caught and coaxed into kissing. "So fuckin' embarrassing."

Mickey watched Ian, liking how giddy Ian got over the simplest things. He couldn't help but feel a bit angry at Ayden for not really knowing exactly what he had. How could Ayden not want to take Ian to baseball games and see him laugh like that?

"Oh shit, Mickey! Look!" Ian said, reaching over to grab Mickey's forearm. "We're on the Kiss Cam! How fuckin' cool is that?"

"What?" Mickey asked dazedly, shaking free from his reverie to look towards the Jumbotron. "The fuck? How do they even know that we're a couple? I mean… fuck, you know what I mean, that we're gay?"

'This Kiss' by Faith Hill began playing as the screen continued focusing on Ian and Mickey with a cartoon heart bordering around them. All the crowd saw was Ian grinning like an idiot, and Mickey waving his hands around and squirming in his seat as he complained, a few swear words forming on his lips.

"Come on, let's just do it! It'll be fun!" Ian said, suddenly turning in his seat before Mickey could protest. Without hesitation, he cupped Mickey's face in his hands and leaned in, kissing Mickey quickly and softly on the lips.

Mickey sat frozen, staring blankly as Ian pulled back and laughed, focusing his eyes back up on the Jumbotron that was featuring a new couple that was being put on the spot.

Ian was sitting there, laughing and acting as if nothing had happened at all; while Mickey sat there, his heart hammering in his chest, his whole world tipped slightly off its axis because of a simple little kiss.

After the game, Mickey and Ian made their way to the car, both of them munching on cotton candy as they walked.

"Man, if Ayden could see me now," Ian said as he took another huge bite of the pink spun sugar. "He'd flip his shit."

Mickey scoffed a little and continued eating his own cotton candy.

"Forgot how good this stuff was."

"So, did you have fun today?" Mickey asked after they'd reached the car and began the long, boring task of sitting in traffic.

"I did," Ian said, smiling at him. "I had a lot of fun. I honestly can't even remember the last time I had this much fun. We should definitely do it again."

"Ah, but a little over a month from now, you'll be a married man," Mickey pointed out, perhaps a little bitterly. "Don't think your husband will be too keen on you hangin' out with your wedding planner after everything is said and done."

"That sounds so fuckin' weird," Ian said thoughtfully as he stared out the window. "My husband. Up until two months ago, I never even thought about marriage. Never thought I'd be someone's fuckin' husband."

Mickey swallowed the lump in his throat as he focused his attention on the road and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You do, though, right?" he found himself asking against his better judgment. "You wanna marry the guy?"

Ian looked at him, opening his mouth once and then twice, nothing coming out. Finally, he said, "Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't."

"Right, dumb fuckin' question," Mickey mumbled as he reached forward and fumbled with the air-conditioning knob.

The rest of the half-hour ride home was filled with awkward silence and secret, stolen side-glances.

"Thanks again," Ian said once they were parked in front of his place. "I really did have a lot of fun today."

"Yeah, me too," Mickey said, thumbing at his nose.

"When will I see you again?" Ian asked, his hand on the door handle. "I mean, you know, when's our next meeting gonna be?"

"I'll shoot you a text, we'll figure something out."

Ian nodded and seemed to hesitate for a moment before getting out of the car. "See ya, Mickey."

"See ya, Gallagher," Mickey said, and then he watched as Ian shut the door and jogged his way across the street. He watched until Ian was safely inside the building before finally pulling out.

He knew spending the day with Ian would bring nothing but trouble. He was in even deeper than he had been before.

Once Ian was inside the penthouse, he removed his hat and tossed his foam finger next to the door. He made his way to the bathroom, stripping his jersey and jeans off as he did so. He started the shower, making sure the water was nice and hot and got in. He groaned as the hot spray rained over him, feeling so fucking good. He closed his eyes and thought about his day with Mickey. He'd been honest when he said he couldn't remember the last time he'd had that much fun. He loved being around Mickey. He felt like he could actually be his true self around the guy, and he found himself laughing more than he had in a long-ass time.

He also liked how Mickey laughed and smiled, how hard he had to sometimes coax those laughs and smiles out of Mickey, and he liked how Mickey got grumpy over the simplest things. He then thought about their little impromptu kiss, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt something when their lips touched. But he couldn't admit that to himself. He had to shove those thoughts down because they didn't mean anything. None of it could mean anything. It was just a simple, stupid kiss for the sake of the Kiss Cam.

Ian knew, in the back of his mind, that if he admitted to himself that the kiss had meant more to him than it should have, then he would be forced to distance himself from Mickey, and he just wasn't ready to do that yet.

Mickey walked into his apartment to find his sister leaning against the counter island with takeout cartons of Thai food and a magazine spread out in front of her.

"Hey, you hungry?" Mandy asked without even bothering to look up. "I have plenty of food here. I got those vegetable egg rolls you like."

"Nah, I ate at the game," Mickey answered absentmindedly as he tossed his keys on the counter and walked to the fridge to grab a beer.

"Did our team win?" Mandy asked, not even pretending to know what the team's name was.

Mickey took his beer, brought it to his lips and froze without taking a sip, Mandy's question not even registering in his head. After a pause, he said, "I think I fucked up."

Mandy finally glanced up from her magazine. "What do you mean you fucked up? What did you do?" When she noticed her brother's forlorn expression, she repeated, "Mickey, what did you do?"

Mickey sighed and leaned against the counter opposite her. "You know that buddy I took to the game today?"

"Yeah," Mandy intoned, eyebrow quirked.

"It was Ian."

"Mickey," Mandy chastised. "What the hell?"

"I know! I fuckin' know," Mickey exclaimed, running a hand down his face. "I know it was a stupid idea, and it never should have happened, but, fuck… I like the guy, Mands."

"I fuckin' knew it!" Mandy said, slapping her palm on the counter. "I knew it, Mickey. Christ, the guy's getting married in a month and a half. You're his wedding planner, for fuck's sake!"

"You don't think I fuckin' know that!" Mickey bellowed. "You think I like being in this situation? I can't get the guy outta my head, and I've only known him for two weeks. It doesn't make any goddamn sense."

"Well, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?"

"I don't fuckin' know!"

"You need to tell him the truth, Mickey, and you need to drop him," Mandy spat. "You need to cut all ties with him. Give him a chance to find an actual wedding planner and stop fuckin' around with this guy's life."

Mickey sighed and shook his head. "I can't do that. I can't tell him, not now. Besides, nothing is gonna happen. He's totally into this Ayden asshole for some reason."

"Well, yeah, I would fuckin' think so!" Mandy snapped, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head. "How you get yourself into these situations, Mick, I'll never know."

Mickey just scrubbed a hand down his face, knowing she was justified in her anger.

"What if I fix you up with someone? Try to get your mind off this guy?" On Mickey's apprehensive look, Mandy continued, "I know a guy. He's a cousin of one of my past clients. He's a cool-ass dude, and he's cute as hell. You'll like him. Even if you don't like him, hop on his dick a few times and get the fuck over this Ian guy, asap!"

Mickey thought about it and reluctantly nodded his head. "Fine, yeah, whatever. It's worth a fuckin' shot. I gotta do something before things get even more fucked-up."

"Goddamn right you do," Mandy said, reaching for her phone. "Of all the idiotic, asinine things you've ever done… " Her voice trailed off as she continued to shake her head.

Mickey took a sip of his beer and watched as Mandy began furiously texting.

Still, even after everything that'd just been said, his mind wandered back to Ian.