Before Mickey could even make it all the way through his apartment door, the other man was pressing up against him from behind and reaching around to grope Mickey's dick through his pants, his breath hot and fast on the back of Mickey's neck.

"Fuck," Mickey groaned, his breath hitching in anticipation.

It was the third guy in four nights that Mickey had brought home with him in his desperate attempt to forget about and get over Ian Gallagher.

The first guy had been the no bullshit and straight to the point type, just as Mickey liked it. They'd barely said two words to each other the entire time. The guy had fucked Mickey hard and fast and dirty, then he left without so much as a backward glance.

The second guy had been hotter than the first, but he'd turned out to be the exact opposite of the first guy, wanting to know personal things about Mickey; asking about his age, likes and dislikes, and shit. He'd even hinted at spending the night, but Mickey wasn't having any of that. Mickey still let the guy fuck him, he came within minutes, and then he sent the guy packing immediately after.

The guy he had picked up that night at a seedy, lowkey bar on the way home from work seemed a little too handsy for Mickey's liking and kept trying to kiss him. Mickey was half-tempted to shove the guy right back out the door, but he didn't. He was too fucking horny for that.

There was one thing all of these guys had in common, though, they weren't Ian… and that was the whole point. It was exactly what he needed, someone who wasn't Ian. Still, even after getting his ass pounded by these guys, he felt empty and unsatisfied. Immediately after walking the guys out and shutting the door behind them, it was still Ian he thought about as he lied awake at night, unable to sleep.

The guy he'd brought home that night (Todd or Tim or Ted, he couldn't remember, nor did he really care to remember) spoke and brought him out of his reverie.

"So, nice place."

"Yeah, I don't wanna fuckin' talk right now. Take off your pants," Mickey demanded as he immediately began unbuckling his belt. He shoved his jeans and boxers down around his knees, and then he turned to brace himself against the kitchen counter, right where Mandy usually sat to enjoy her morning coffee. What Mandy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Are you gonna get the fuck on me or not?" Mickey spat.

After a hasty and sloppy preparation, the guy pressed and rocked into Mickey with a satisfied grunt. Mickey gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as he adjusted to the stinging pain. That guy definitely had the biggest dick of the three.

Still, even as he was getting it good and hard, and doing the one and only thing he could think to do to get over Ian, it was Ian's face he saw when he closed his eyes.


Something had gotten into Ayden that morning.

Every once in a while, Ayden would get the sudden and inexplicable urge to ride Ian. It didn't happen very often, but when it did, Ian was usually over the fucking moon about it. Any time Ayden got a little wild in bed was just fine with Ian.

That morning, however, Ian couldn't help but feel as if he had to force himself to get into it. Sure, it felt good, anything involving his dick usually did, but that morning it felt different, like he was just going through the motions… like he had to force it. As Ayden was riding his cock, his fingers curling and scratching into Ian's chest just the way Ian usually liked it, Ian found himself struggling to focus. Ian dug his fingers roughly into his fiancé's hips and planted his feet on the bed, gritting his teeth and thrusting up quick and fast, trying to get into it and getting pissed at himself because he couldn't.

"Ian," Ayden gasped as he buckled forward to crush his lips hungrily against Ian's. He moaned into Ian's open mouth as he shuddered through his orgasm.

Ian realized then, as Ayden came all over his stomach and chest, that he wasn't even close to his own orgasm.

Ayden must have realized it, too, and he braced himself back up to continue riding Ian at a steady, quick pace.

"Hey," Ian breathed, bucking his hips once to get the other man's attention. "Hey, I'm good, you don't have to keep going. I'm good."

Ayden slowed his movements, his eyebrows furrowing. "How are you good? You didn't even come yet."

"I know… I think my meds are messin' with my dick today or something," Ian intoned, barely able to look Ayden in the eye as he said it because he knew his meds had nothing to do with his low libido that morning.

Ayden sighed as he lifted off Ian's unspent dick and relaxed next to him. "Okay, maybe we'll try again later?"

"Yeah… maybe."

Ayden leaned over and kissed Ian chastely on the corner of his mouth before rolling out of bed to go clean himself up, once again skipping the cuddling.

Ian ran a hand down his face once he was alone, and then he held his hand over his mouth as he stared up at the ceiling. Fuck.

"I don't know what you want me to say here, Ian."

"Tell them you can't fucking go."

"Seriously?" Ayden sighed. "How many times do we have to have the same argument over and over again? You know I can't do that."

"Our wedding is in three fucking weeks, Ayden. We were supposed to go tux shopping today, remember?" Ian snapped. "Or wasn't that important enough to pencil into your weekly fucking planner?"

"I know we were supposed to go tux shopping, but there's nothing I can do," Ayden insisted. "I have to go, it's mandatory."

Ian swiped a hand down his face and sighed in aggravation. It seemed like all he and Ayden did those days was argue. It was getting really fucking exhausting.

"Look," Ayden said as he finished packing his bag and zipped it up. "You go get your tux, and I'll get mine when I get back. It'll be better that way, anyway. We won't see each other until the day of the wedding. It's more romantic that way, right?"

Ian resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes at Ayden's futile attempt to rectify the situation.

Ayden walked to Ian and gripped his chin, tilting Ian's head back to force him to look up. "I'm sorry, you know if I had a choice, I'd stay here with you."

Ian wasn't so sure he believed that, but he still nodded anyway.

Ayden bent down to give Ian a quick kiss before turning around and leaving.


It was Mickey's day off, and he was out running his errands, completely minding his own business. Things were going good, bills were getting paid, he did a load of laundry, and he was on his way to pick up some much-needed groceries. It felt kind of good being a responsible fucking adult.

Mickey looked up from his handful of coupons and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him. If he actually believed in a god, he would seriously think he was being fucking punished.

Ian hadn't spotted him yet, his eyes downcast as he walked towards Mickey, his phone up to his ear as he chatted animatedly to whoever was on the other end.

Mickey swore under his breath and waited.

Ian finally looked up when he was a few feet away and slowed to a stop. "Hey, Fi, lemme call you back," Ian said slowly as his eyes locked with Mickey's. "Something important just came up."

Mickey dropped his head and looked off to the side, pretending to be interested in something across the street.

"Hey," Ian said wistfully once he'd hung up.

"Hey," Mickey said curtly with a gentle nod.

"Haven't heard from you in a few days."

"Yeah, uh, been busy," Mickey said, nervously scratching at his nose.

"That was, uh, that was some party the other night, huh?" Ian continued. He paused as an awkward silence settled over them and then said, "You left pretty quick… didn't get to say goodbye."

"Yeah, didn't really feel like stickin' around. Plus, you looked busy," Mickey said, deciding not to bring up the text messages, knowing there was no point. The messages didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. They both had to just accept the fact that they'd met each other too late. "Uh, so I should go, I have a buncha shit to do today. I'll see ya later."

Just as Mickey was moving to brush past him, Ian reached out and grabbed Mickey's arm. "Mick."

Mickey let out a slow, unsteady breath as he looked down at Ian's hand on his forearm. He couldn't deny the spark he felt in the simple, innocent touch. "Ian… don't."

Ian removed his hand from Mickey's arm and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So, that's it, then? You wanna just act like we don't know each other now?"

"It's probably for the best, yeah."

"You don't believe that."

"Fuck, Ian! You're fuckin' engaged!" Mickey exclaimed, suddenly finding his voice. "What the fuck did you think was gonna happen? You send me a text message telling me you wish you'd met me first. The fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"I… I don't know!" Ian exclaimed right back. "I didn't think it would mean this!"

Mickey ran a hand over his face and focused his attention down the street. He poked his tongue along the inside of his cheek before declaring, "I can't be around you right now."

"What are you talking about?" Ian asked. "Yes, you can."

"No," Mickey snapped before looking at Ian pointedly, "I really fuckin' can't."

Ian let out a sigh. "That's ridiculous, of course you can. Come on," he said with a jerk of his head. "I'm on my way to go tux shopping. You're my wedding planner. You should be there."

"Ian," Mickey sighed, "stop."

"Come on," Ian said, his voice soft. "It won't take that long, I promise."

Mickey stared back at Ian, feeling himself starting to crack. Just one look into those green eyes, and he knew there was no use in denying it or trying to fight it. The sad truth of the matter was that he wanted to be around Ian no matter how much it hurt. He was such a fucking idiot.

"Where's your fiancé?" Mickey asked with perhaps a little too much bite. "Shouldn't he be the one going tux shopping with you?"

Ian ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "He went on another business trip, won't be back until tomorrow night." He paused and looked Mickey dead in the eyes, giving him that smirk he always used on him. "Come on, I could really use a second opinion."

Mickey chewed on his lower lip as his eyes searched Ian's.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Mickey found himself standing in the middle of the ritzy tuxedo shop, wondering once again what the fuck was wrong with him. He seriously needed to get his goddamn head examined.

Mickey crossed his arms and shuffled uncomfortably under the shop owner's blatant scrutiny; the bitch acted like she'd never seen someone with tattoos and a slick-back before. Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask if she wanted to snap a fucking picture, Ian came out of the dressing room, and Mickey suddenly forgot what words were.

Ian Gallagher was the most beautiful fucking thing Mickey had ever seen in his life.

"Do I look okay?" Ian asked as he turned to regard himself in the full-length mirror. He smoothed out the lapels of the sleek, expensive black tux and tugged on the ends of the sleeves to test out the length.

Mickey's eyes swept over Ian, his throat suddenly going incredibly dry. "Uh, yeah. Yeah," he finally blurted. "You look… it looks good."

Ian caught Mickey's eyes in the mirror, and he smiled shyly before looking down. "Good, I think this is the one."

"Yeah, definitely… definitely… the one," Mickey said, his tone soft. He watched as Ian got measured, and then he disappeared back into the dressing room. Mickey was half-tempted to follow him in, but he resisted, if only for the bitch still giving him the stink eye. His urges were getting harder and harder to resist, and he wondered how long it would be before he either went fucking crazy or gave in.

After Ian paid the deposit for the tux and gave the proper personal information, they made their way out onto the sidewalk and stood awkwardly facing each other.

"So, what do you—"

"Do you have—" Ian chuckled as they began talking at the same time and rubbed at the back of his neck. "You go first."

Mickey gnawed on his lower lip as he regarded Ian. What eventually came out of his mouth certainly wasn't what he'd expected himself to say. "What are you up to for the rest of the day?"

Ian locked eyes with Mickey's as his face broke into a grin, and he shrugged his shoulders. "Absolutely nothing."

"Well, uh, I was actually thinkin' about heading over to Red Mango for some frozen yogurt," Mickey said, having had no prior intention of doing any such thing, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye to Ian just yet. "Could use some company."

"I could go for some frozen yogurt."

"Let's fuckin' go, then," Mickey said with a smirk, turning and nodding his head in the direction of the yogurt shop.


Once they got their frozen yogurt and sat down at a small table on the outside patio, the conversation flowed easily, their earlier embarrassment and tension completely diminished.

"Seriously, after you left the party the other night, I swear to god Gary walked around lookin' for you for like an hour," Ian said, as he clutched his side from laughing so hard. "He wanted the D bad."

"Yeah, well, the only D he was gettin' was denied," Mickey said, which caused Ian to laugh even harder. Mickey grinned as he watched Ian nearly doubled over. "Ay," he said, nodding towards Ian's yogurt. "What flavor did you get?"

"Cake batter," Ian said as he shoveled a spoonful into his mouth and licked his spoon clean. "It's yummy."

Mickey was slightly distracted by Ian's mouth as he said, "Nah, man… no, fuck your cake batter. It's all about the white peach."

"Wait," Ian said, narrowing his eyes playfully, "that's not a euphemism for your ass, is it?"

Mickey barked out a laugh. "Fuck you, man," he said, his eyes dancing with laughter. He spooned some of his yogurt and held it out for Ian to taste. "Here, try it. It's the most delicious thing you could ever put in your mouth."

"Hm… doubt it," Ian said with a playful glint in his eye as he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around Mickey's spoon, their eyes locking as he did so.

Mickey's eyes took in the sight of Ian's soft, pink tongue curling around the spoon, and he felt his dick twitch. He cleared his throat when Ian pulled back. "Good?" he asked, pretty sure his voice cracked.

"Mmhm," Ian said, still licking his lips.

Mickey watched as Ian went back to his own yogurt, a grin plastered on his face.


As they were casually making their way down the sidewalk towards Mickey's apartment a little while later, it started pouring down rain out of nowhere.

"Jesus! What the fuck!" Mickey grumped. "It was fuckin' sunny two goddamn minutes ago!"

"Shit!" Ian exclaimed, even though his voice was bubbling with laughter.

They ran down the sidewalk as the rain pelted heavily around them, drenching them instantly before they even had a chance to find cover. After stopping to jump, play, and splash each other in a few puddles like a couple of kids (Ian having to goad Mickey into it, of course), they finally reached Mickey's apartment building, and Mickey held the door open, allowing Ian to enter first.

"You might as well come in and wait out the storm," Mickey said breathlessly as he ran a hand over his wet face.

"Sounds like the openin' line to a really bad porno," Ian said with a snort of laughter.

They slumped against the wall of the small apartment vestibule next to the mailboxes, gasping for air through their panting and laughter.

"What the fuck, we're fuckin' soaked!" Ian exclaimed, pushing his drenched hair away from his forehead. "Was it even supposed to rain today?"

"Fuck if I know." Mickey's chest heaved as he laughed and fought for breath. He glanced over at Ian, and his laughter suddenly died on his lips when he saw the sight in front of him… Ian Gallagher soaked from head to toe, his white t-shirt clinging to his upper body, his nipples poking through the thin cotton material. His hair was darker than usual and slicked back. Beads of rain were slowly running down his face and trickling down his throat.

It took a moment for Mickey to realize Ian had also stopped laughing and was looking at him with wide, questioning eyes, his lips slightly parted, his own chest heaving with unsteady breaths.

Without thinking about it, Mickey pushed away from the wall and turned fully towards Ian. He pressed a hand to Ian's firm chest and pushed Ian fully back against the wall.

"You're fuckin' amazing, you know that?" Mickey rasped as he reached a hand up and cupped it over Ian's cheek, his thumb smoothing over Ian's cheekbone. "Fuck, man, look at you." He dropped his hand to Ian's chest, unable to stop himself as he placed his palm over Ian's rapidly beating heart. He swallowed hard and then moved his hand down, swiping his thumb over the hard nipple that was poking through Ian's shirt, just begging to be touched.

Ian visibly swallowed as his eyes searched Mickey's face. "Maybe I should go," Ian said, his tone unconvincing as his eyes dropped to Mickey's lips. "I should go… before we do something we… something we shouldn't."

"Yeah, maybe," Mickey said, his voice husky. He dropped his hand again and placed it on Ian's hip. With his eyes locked on Ian's, he slipped his thumb under the hem of Ian's shirt and smoothed the pad of his thumb along the waistband of Ian's jeans.

"Mickey," Ian murmured. He pressed his head back against the wall, his chest rising and falling with his quick, shallow breaths. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes boring into Mickey's.

When Ian didn't say anything further, Mickey lowered his hand and palmed Ian through the front of his jeans, feeling that Ian was already rock hard. "Jesus," Mickey rasped. He braced his free hand against the wall, caging Ian in. He searched Ian's face, watched as Ian's eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted. "Want me to stop?"

Ian opened his eyes and stared back at Mickey as the question hung in the air. "Do you wanna stop?"

"Fuck, no, I don't wanna stop," Mickey breathed, still palming Ian's cock through his pants.

Ian swallowed again and said thickly, "Then don't."

That was all Mickey needed to hear. He surged forward and pressed his lips to Ian's.

The kiss was immediately hungry and desperate. Ian groaned deep in his throat and grabbed Mickey roughly by the front of his wet shirt with both hands and surged forward, pushing Mickey backward until Mickey's back was pressed against the opposite wall of the small space.

Mickey gasped as the air was knocked out of him, and then he immediately dove in for another kiss. He licked his way into Ian's mouth, already addicted to Ian's taste. He reached up and dug his fingers in Ian's wet hair and tugged hard, forcing Ian's mouth away from his and curving Ian's neck back. Mickey leaned in and licked from the hollow between Ian's collarbone and along his throat before crushing their lips together again.

"Mickey," Ian gasped through the hungry kiss as he placed his large hands on Mickey's hips and slid them around to grope Mickey's ass. He pulled Mickey tighter up and against him. "Fuck, I've wanted to get my hands on this ass since the first fuckin' day I saw you."

"Fuck," Mickey groaned as he pressed even closer against Ian, their dicks rubbing together through their jeans. "Wanna go upstairs?" Mickey murmured as he went to work on Ian's neck, placing soft, moist kisses against his damp skin. He wanted to devour the other man and take his sweet time with him simultaneously. "Want you upstairs."

Mickey felt Ian suddenly tense against him, and he pulled back.

"Shit… I should go," Ian rasped, his voice barely audible. "I should really fucking go. Right now. I shouldn't be here. I can't… we can't do this."

Mickey pressed his forehead to Ian's and nodded. "Okay," he muttered, his heart thundering and every nerve ending in his body tingling. "Okay. You're right. Fuck, you're right."

"I'm sorry," Ian whispered, and then he reluctantly pulled away. "I… I have to go."

Mickey lifted his eyes and watched as Ian walked right out the door without another word and back out into the pouring rain. He slumped back against the wall and ran a shaky hand down his face. "Fuck," he muttered, trying to process what had just happened.

Once he regained use of his legs and was able to breathe properly again, Mickey went up to his apartment and slipped inside. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and then stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his body still reeling, his lips still tingling.

He numbly walked to the fridge and scanned the contents, looking but not really seeing anything. Before he knew what was happening, he leaned back against the counter and ran a shaky hand down his face, everything hitting him all at once full force. He knew he'd just royally fucked up, because not only did he just fucking kiss and grope an engaged man and risk losing his friendship with Ian entirely, but he had fucking loved kissing Ian, and he wanted nothing more than to do it again and again. Mickey knew then, without a doubt, that he would do whatever the fuck Ian Gallagher wanted him to do, and it terrified him to know that someone had that kind of power over him.

He pushed away from the counter and grabbed a beer, fully intent on getting drunk and high out of his mind that night. As he was walking towards his bedroom to change into dry clothes and dwell in his misery, a knock on the door stalled him.

Mickey walked to the door and opened it to find Ian standing on the other side.

They stared at each other, the air thick around them.

Mickey tongued the inside of his cheek and arched his brows, waiting.

"I changed my mind," Ian said after a loaded pause, before surging forward, cupping Mickey's face in his large hands, and swooping down to capture Mickey's lips in a searing, rough kiss.

With their lips still locked, Mickey pushed the door shut and leaned forward to latch the chain. He grabbed Ian by the hip and guided them backward while Ian chased Mickey with his mouth so that Mickey could place his unwanted beer safely on the counter. Once Mickey's hands were finally free, he slid his palms up Ian's chest and wrapped his arms around Ian's neck. He pressed up and against Ian, unable to get close enough to him.

Ian grabbed handfuls of Mickey's ass and roughly hoisted him up onto the kitchen island as if Mickey weighed nothing. He swallowed Mickey's satisfied groan and maneuvered his way between Mickey's legs, still not breaking the intense kiss.

Mickey reached down between them, grabbed for Ian's shirt, and peeled the damp fabric up and off Ian's wet skin before tossing the garment aside. "Fuck," Mickey moaned before leaning down and kissing Ian's wet, bare shoulder. "You're amazing," he murmured.

Ian moaned and gripped the back of Mickey's head as he watched Mickey's lips pressing against his flushed skin. "I want you. Fuck, Mickey, I want you."

Mickey grabbed Ian's hand and placed it over his dick that was straining against the front of his jeans. "Yeah? See what you do to me?" Mickey rasped as he pressed his forehead to Ian's.

Ian sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he rubbed Mickey through his pants. "Shit, Mickey…"

"It's all yours," Mickey murmured. "All yours, everything." He cupped Ian's face in his hands and smoothed his thumbs over Ian's cheeks before leaning in for another kiss. That time, the kiss was slow and lazy and searching; it was the kind of kiss Mickey had never had any interest in before. But with Ian, it was different… everything was different with Ian.

Ian reached up and placed his hands over the hands that were holding his face, and he kissed Mickey back just as slow, a moan forming in his throat as Mickey's tongue deliciously tangled with his.

The door to the apartment was suddenly opening, but the chain stopped it from opening more than a few inches.

Ian and Mickey flew apart, unseen.

"Mickey, open the goddamn door! I'm fuckin' drenched out here, asshole," Mandy called out. "Don't tell me you have another one of your fuck-buddies over. That's like the fifth guy this week! Keep your damn dick in your pants!"

Mickey closed his eyes and exhaled unsteadily, his sister's words hanging awkwardly in the air. When he opened his eyes, he was faced with a sight that hurt his heart. Judging by the look on Ian's face, he'd clearly heard every word Mandy said… and he was hurt.

"Ian," Mickey began as he reached out to grab Ian's arm.

Ian pulled his arm away from Mickey's reach. "No, it's cool. It's cool," he murmured, bending down to pick his wet shirt up from the floor. "You're fuckin' other guys. It's cool. It's none of my business… it's good, actually."

Mickey watched Ian hopelessly, not knowing what to say to rectify the situation. "Look, I don't want—"

"Seriously," Ian interrupted, avoiding Mickey's eyes. "It's fine. You can fuck whoever you want. You and I aren't anything to each other, right. I mean, I'm engaged. I'd be a fucking hypocrite if I expected you to not fuck anyone else." Ian's voice quivered as he spoke and slipped his shirt on.

"Ian—"

"Mickey, put your dick away and open up the goddamn door, Jesus!"

Mickey watched Ian for a few heartbeats more, before turning to walk to the door to allow Mandy to enter.

Mandy barged in, shooting Mickey a baleful look. "About fuckin' time, asshole! I gotta tell you, I really love being locked out of my own fucking apart—" She paused her rant when she saw Ian standing in the middle of the living room, his clothes damp and askew, his hair tousled, and his lips swollen. "—fuck."

"I was just leaving," Ian muttered before brushing past Mickey and heading out the door.

Mickey closed his eyes and dropped his head. He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"Don't tell me you did what I think you did," Mandy began, her voice stern.

"Not that it's any of your business, but we didn't sleep together, alright?" Mickey snapped.

"No, but you would have, wouldn't you?" Mandy asked. "If I wouldn't have interrupted."

"Fuck off," Mickey said miserably, not in the mood for the third degree.

"Mickey, what are you—"

"I know, alright!" Mickey exclaimed, spinning to face her. "I fuckin' know! I'm an asshole for pursuing an engaged man! I'm an asshole for potentially ruining someone else's life. I should stay away from him, I should leave him the fuck alone, but I fucking can't, alright? I'm fucking… I think I'm in love with the fucking guy!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mickey wished with everything in him that he could take them back. He turned his back to his sister, not even wanting to see her expression. He already knew he was a piece of shit.

"Shit," Mandy said after a long, tense pause. "I didn't know. I thought you just wanted to fuck him. But… love? Fuck, Mickey."

Mickey gripped the back of the chair he was standing in front of and hung his head. "I can't fuckin' explain it. I know it doesn't make any fuckin' sense."

"I don't know what to say," Mandy said after a pause. "Do whatever you think you have to do. Just… be careful." She paused before saying, "You know you'll probably end up getting hurt, right? You know that, don't you? Jesus, Mickey… there's a reason he's marrying that guy!"

"You don't think I fuckin' know that?" Mickey asked, his tone dejected. He let out a shaky exhale. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Mandy sighed. "I wish I knew what to tell you, but this seems to be one giant shit pile you're gonna have to dig yourself out of."

"Yeah, thanks for the help," Mickey snapped and then watched as Mandy headed towards her room. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and hastily sent Ian a message: come back so we can talk about this

Twenty seconds later, he got a response: leave me alone