Ian entered the empty penthouse and leaned back against the closed door. He shivered and his teeth chattered. He was completely soaked from head to toe from his walk home in the relentless downpour outside. Instead of moving away from the door and getting changed into drier, warmer clothes, he slowly slid down the length of the door until his butt hit the floor. He pulled his knees tight to his chest and buried his face against them as silent sobs shook his shoulders.

His phone vibrated in his pocket a minute later, and he numbly reached to grab it, vaguely thinking it was a small miracle it wasn't soaked like the rest of him.

It was a text message from Mickey: Ian please call me I need to talk to u

Ian let out a heavy breath and considered his next move for only a handful of seconds before pressing the call button.

It took the other man four rings to answer. "Ian?"

"Hey," Ian said miserably.

"What's wrong?" Ayden asked, sounding breathless. "It's late, are you alright?"

"No," Ian muttered, "not really. I'm not alright."

"Have you been crying?" Ayden asked. "What's wrong? Did something happen at the club? I told you that place wasn't good for you."

"When you get back, let's… let's go away for a few days, okay," Ian blurted, his eyes still brimming with tears. "Let's just pack a bag and rent a hotel room somewhere and just… spend time together, be together."

The other end was silent for a small stretch of time before Ayden sighed. "Ian, you know I can't just pack up and go. Not now. I have this campaign I'm working on, and I have to—"

"Please don't say no to me," Ian choked out. "You've been saying that shit to me way too often these days. Don't fuckin' tell me no. I need this, Ayden. We need this. If you love me at all, you'd—"

"Alright, Ian. Alright, okay?" Ayden interrupted. "We'll get away for a couple nights, just you and me. I promise."

Ian closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, letting out a watery sigh.

A small part of Ian did want to work on things with Ayden, to try to get back what they'd once had, to get back what used to be really good between them.

The other, larger part of him was desperate to stop hurting.

Ever since Mickey Milkovich came into the picture, Ian felt like he had no control over his life anymore, no control over anything. Mickey had turned everything on its head, and Ian desperately had to get everything back to the way it was, back when everything was safe and easy and in place and recognizable. He especially couldn't lose everything over a guy who obviously didn't care about him as much as he cared about Mickey.

Just thinking about Mickey fucking other guys caused Ian's stomach to churn again, and Ian squeezed his eyes shut against another onslaught of tears. "Just you and me?" he said to his awaiting fiancé.

"Just you and me," Ayden confirmed. "Look, I really have to go. Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah," Ian said weakly, only in the very back of his mind wondering what could have Ayden so busy at ten o'clock at night. After saying their goodbyes, Ian glanced down at his phone to see that another text message from Mickey had come through: I'm sorry just call me

Ian knew deep down that Mickey had no reason to be sorry; Mickey didn't owe Ian anything, they weren't together. Mickey could fuck a hundred guys in a week right in front of Ian, and it didn't have anything to do with him. That didn't stop it from hurting like a bitch.

Ian's thumb lightly skimmed over the reply button before ultimately settling on delete.

After taking the hottest shower he could stand, Ian was making his way to the kitchen to grab a bottled water from the fridge. A knock on the door caused him to stop dead in his tracks with a frown. Who the hell would just show up at his place at ten-thirty at night, unannounced? He was still damp and wearing only a towel, and he contemplated just letting whoever it was at the door wait while he got dressed. He sighed and decided to just open the door and give whoever it was a free show, and he instantly regretted that decision when he saw it was Mickey on the other side.

Ian froze, forgetting how to breathe for a moment as beautiful blue eyes regarded him sadly.

"Hey," Mickey said before chewing on his lower lip.

"What are you doin' here?"

"You weren't answering my calls, so I decided to pull one of your own moves on you and stalk your ass," Mickey said, smiling faintly, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Ian looked down at the floor, not returning Mickey's smile. "How did you know which penthouse was mine?"

"The doorman told me."

"Great," Ian intoned, still avoiding Mickey's eyes. "I'll have to remember to thank my highly paid doorman for letting just anyone on the street up to my place."

"So, I'm just some random guy from the street now, huh?"

"Honestly, Mickey, I don't know what the fuck you are," Ian answered bitterly, finally looking Mickey straight in the eye. "I mean, are you my wedding planner, are you my friend, or do you just wanna fuck me, huh? Which is it?"

Mickey let out a sigh and tilted his head with a click of his tongue. "Come on, man, it's not like that."

"You should go." Ian braced his hand on the wall next to the door and rested his forehead against his forearm. "You shouldn't be here, Mickey. I don't wanna do this with you."

"Ay, stop with the shitty attitude, alright? You have no reason to be upset with me!" Mickey exclaimed. "We're not together, Ian. We're not together, and I'm sorry. I don't know what else you want me to say here."

"I don't want you to say anything," Ian snapped. "I want you to go."

"That's what you really want?" Mickey asked after a short pause.

Ian let out a shaky breath, turned away from the door, and paced a few steps. After a long awkward pause, he turned back to look at Mickey, his expression softened.

"Look, I know. I know I don't have a right to be mad. You could fuck a guy right in front of me and I can't say shit." He watched as Mickey swallowed and looked down at the floor. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," his voice shook on the last word, despite his best attempt to keep his voice steady.

Mickey lifted his head, and they locked eyes. He stepped fully inside the penthouse and shut the door behind him. "Ian, I… fuck… I only fucked those guys to get over you." Mickey tentatively took a step forward. "I can't get you outta my head. Fuckin' other dudes is the only thing I can think to do to stop thinking about you, and even that doesn't fuckin' work." He took another step, and then another until he was standing right in front of Ian, their bodies just inches apart. "You're under my skin, man."

Ian sucked in a breath and closed his eyes when Mickey reached up to caress his cheek. He stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest, as Mickey leaned in.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Mickey murmured as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Ian's. He pulled away in the next instant and reluctantly removed his hand from Ian's face.

Ian's eyes fluttered open and he stared down at Mickey. "I know. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but I am hurting. That's the fuckin' problem. That's why we can't be around each other anymore, Mickey," he finally said, saying the words that should have been said weeks ago, before everything spun so out of control. "That's the smart thing to do, to just walk away. I'm the one who should stop it before it goes further. I'm the one getting married in two weeks."

Mickey closed his eyes and hung his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and reluctantly nodded.

"We can't see each other anymore. You can't be my wedding planner. It's probably best if we just cut all ties completely," Ian's voice shook as he spoke. "Things have just gotten way too complicated."

"Ian—"

Ian's body moved before his mind had time to catch up. He stepped towards Mickey and cupped Mickey's face in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together. "Please just go, Mickey," he murmured. "I can't do this anymore. I'm fucked-up enough in the head as it is. I can't be with Ayden and constantly think about you. I can't keep thinking about wanting to kiss you, wanting to fuck you. I can't keep thinking about you when I fuck him. I can't constantly wonder what you're doing when I'm not with you, or who you're doing it with. Okay? I got enough shit to deal with. I can't do it anymore. Just go, please. Go."

Mickey reached up and grabbed onto Ian's wrists that were still holding his face. "I can't just walk away from you, Ian."

"You have to."

"I can't," Mickey rasped as he slowly rocked his forehead against Ian's. Mickey dropped his hands and placed them on Ian's bare hips right above his towel. "You don't think I fucking tried? That's all I've been doing. I can't just walk away."

Ian's breath hitched as Mickey's thumbs softly caressed his bare hip bones.

"Not now," Mickey rasped, his warm breath brushing over Ian's bare chest as he spoke. "I'm in too fuckin' deep." They continued to press into each other as Mickey's words hung in the silence.

"Mick," Ian finally murmured, his voice pleading.

Mickey let out a strangled breath, and then he nodded his forehead softly against Ian's. "Okay," he finally relented, his tone unsteady. "Okay, I'll go. If that's what you really want, I'll go. I'll walk away." He reluctantly stepped away from Ian, and removed his hands from Ian's waist, breaking all contact. He scrubbed a hand down his face and blinked away the moisture in his eyes before moving to step around Ian to leave. Before he could get too far, Ian reached out and grabbed Mickey's wrist, stopping him.

"Don't."

Mickey's heart skipped in his chest as he stared down at Ian's hand. He swallowed thickly and asked, "Don't what?"

"Don't go," Ian answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mickey lifted his eyes to Ian's and slowly turned to fully face him.

"Just for tonight, okay?" Ian said, his tone unsteady. "One night."

Mickey nodded and took a step closer. "Just tonight," he agreed. His eyes dropped to Ian's mouth, and he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to Ian's lips.

When they pulled back from the sweet kiss, Ian chuckled breathlessly, nervously.

With his eyes locked on Ian's, Mickey reached down between them and slowly undid Ian's towel, letting it fall to the floor at their feet. He looked down and took in the sight of Ian's dick, which was already hard. "Fuck," he breathed as he wrapped a hand around the back of Ian's neck and pressed their foreheads together. "Wanna touch you," Mickey murmured, their breath hot and mingling in the small space that separated them.

Ian nodded against Mickey's forehead, and then he groaned when Mickey's tattooed hand wrapped around his dick. "Fuck, Mickey." He grabbed a hold of Mickey's shoulders and looked down to watch as Mickey slowly began stroking him.

With their foreheads still pressed together, Mickey lazily jerked Ian off, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the soft sound of Mickey's hand working on Ian's dick. "Fuck… your dick's perfect."

"Shit, Mickey," Ian moaned when Mickey's palm rounded over the head of his dick. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew it wasn't right, knew he should stop Mickey before it went even further, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Couldn't bring himself to let Mickey walk out the door. Instead, Ian held on tighter to Mickey's shoulders and slowly fucked himself into Mickey's fist.

Mickey leaned in the few inches that separated their mouths and kissed Ian gently. "Wanna taste you," he murmured against Ian's mouth before kissing him again, that time pressing his tongue to the crease of Ian's lips before Ian opened, willingly letting Mickey in.

Ian kissed Mickey back and didn't say anything, couldn't speak at the moment. Instead, he nodded and opened his eyes to watch as Mickey sank down to his knees in front of him.

Mickey locked eyes with Ian as he gripped the base of Ian's cock. He jerked it a few times before he leaned in and touched the tip of his tongue to the head, catching a bead of precome.

"Shit," Ian groaned as he threaded his fingers through Mickey's hair. He then feathered his fingertips over Mickey's cheeks as he stared down at him.

Mickey opened wide and took Ian in as far as he could, relaxing his throat. He gagged a little when he went too far, but he pulled back when he found his limit. He reached around and grabbed handfuls of Ian's ass to hold the younger man to him, wanting to take Ian as deep as possible.

"Amazing mouth," Ian moaned as he began shallowly fucking into Mickey's mouth, holding Mickey's head steady with his hands.

Mickey kept his head still and allowed Ian to take control, all the while keeping their eyes locked.

Ian gripped Mickey's hair with one hand and forced Mickey's head back gently. He grabbed his dick with his free hand and slowly dragged the wet tip of his dick along Mickey's lips. He then eased his dick back into Mickey's warm, open, inviting mouth.

As Mickey sucked and moaned around Ian's dick, he reached down and rubbed his own cock through his sweatpants, eager to get some relief of his own. He sucked Ian's cock with gusto, moaning and breathing heavily through his nose as he did so.

Ian looked down and watched with hooded eyes as Mickey palmed himself as he sucked Ian off. "Get up," Ian rasped, reaching down to grab under Mickey's arm. He was done holding back. They had already passed the point of no return. "My turn."

Mickey stood up and was immediately pulled against Ian, the air being pulled from his lungs as Ian kissed him hungrily, with a fierceness he didn't think Ian had in him. He felt large hands gripping his waist, and he was suddenly being pushed backward. They stumbled and kissed sloppily until Mickey's butt hit against something hard.

In one swift motion, Ian lifted Mickey up onto the counter island, never once breaking the heated, desperate kiss.

Mickey groaned into the kiss and ran his hands through Ian's hair. He wrapped his legs around Ian's waist and pressed as close as he could until his cock was rubbing against Ian's stomach through his sweatpants. "Fuck," he gasped at the contact; wanting more, wanting so much fucking more, wanting it all. He rutted against Ian's hard stomach and trembled from the intensity of it all.

With a hand pressed against Mickey's chest, Ian forced him backward until Mickey was lying flat on his back on the counter. Ian locked eyes with Mickey and smiled down at him as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Mickey's sweats and boxers. He pulled the articles of clothing down and off, leaving Mickey fully exposed from the waist down, his cock hard and slapping against his lower stomach.

Mickey lifted his head, held his breath, and watched as Ian leaned in to feather soft, teasing kisses over his bare thighs. Mickey's head thumped back hard on the granite countertop. "Fuck," he murmured. His right hand found Ian's hair again, loving the way the soft strands felt between his fingers.

Ian smiled against Mickey's flushed skin as he continued sprinkling teasing kisses on every inch of Mickey's thighs, making sure to avoid his leaking dick.

"Fuck, Ian," Mickey gasped impatiently, bucking his hips. "Stop with the teasin', man."

"Okay, pushy," Ian teased with a smile. He grabbed Mickey's knees and spread them apart, motioning for Mickey to prop his feet on the counter. Once Mickey got the hint and bent his legs, Ian leaned down, ghosted his breath over Mickey's balls, and then licked a long stripe along Mickey's perineum.

"Ian," Mickey groaned and grabbed fistfuls of Ian's hair with both hands. When Ian's tongue and mouth moved over his balls, he bucked up and immediately froze as Ian's tight, wet, skillful mouth finally engulfed his cock.

Ian bobbed his mouth on Mickey's cock, turning Mickey into a panting mess. He pulled back with a pop of his mouth and moaned. "Taste so good, knew you would. I bet none of the guys you were with sucked your dick like this, did they?"

"Christ," Mickey groaned. He watched with hooded eyes as Ian spit into his palm and continued to jerk him off as he spoke.

"No one made you come like I'm going to," Ian murmured. He then went back in, deepthroating Mickey and swallowing around his cock.

Mickey grabbed Ian's hair and shallowly fucked up into Ian's mouth as he felt his orgasm building. Just as Mickey was sputtering and about to come, Ian pulled his mouth away and continued jerking Mickey off.

"Want you to come in my mouth," Ian breathed.

Mickey nodded, one hand in Ian's hair, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter above his head. "Yeah, fuck yeah, wanna come in that mouth."

Ian took Mickey's cock in his mouth again and continued sucking and swallowing around him, his right hand fondling Mickey's tight balls. It didn't take long before he felt the tangy taste of Mickey's precome at the back of his throat.

"Fuck, gonna come," Mickey hissed.

Ian nodded, giving Mickey's balls a light squeeze. He sank down on Mickey's cock as far as he could go without choking.

"Fuck!" Mickey yelled just as he came hard down Ian's throat. He whimpered and gripped Ian's hair tighter as Ian pulled off and sucked at the sensitive head of his cock. After a minute, Mickey sat up and wrapped a hand around the back of Ian's neck, pulling Ian in for a hungry kiss, their tongues tangling through his taste. "That was good," Mickey muttered against Ian's mouth, still shuddering. "Want you to fuck me now."

"I'll be right back," Ian breathed against Mickey's mouth before pulling away.

Mickey watched as Ian walked away, his eyes taking in the sight of Ian's bare ass. He swiped a hand down his sweaty face, his heart still pounding in his chest. He took that chance to glance around the impressive penthouse, trying to desperately tramp down the unwanted feelings bubbling inside him. He swallowed thickly and tried not to think too much about Ian's life outside of him. Moments later, Ian returned with lube and a condom. Mickey smiled a little as Ian leaned in to kiss him, even though his heart was hurting a little in his chest.

As they continued to kiss lazily, Ian wrapped a strong arm around Mickey and hefted him off the counter and lowered them both to the floor. "Can't wait to fuck you," he rasped as he positioned himself between Mickey's bent legs. He pulled away from the kiss and sat back to roll the condom on and squirted lube into his palm. With their eyes locked, he gently pushed two slicked fingers into Mickey while his other hand wrapped around Mickey's half-hard dick. He finger-fucked and stroked him until Mickey was ready to go again.

"Fuck, Ian," Mickey moaned. "Just do it, I'm good."

"Yeah?" Ian breathed. Unable to wait any longer, he positioned the head of his dick where Mickey wanted it, and gently pressed and rocked into Mickey with a satisfied groan.

Mickey wrapped his legs around Ian's waist and dug his heels into the small of Ian's back as he adjusted. It hurt so bad but in the most delicious way. "Jesus," he sobbed against Ian's shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Mickey panted, "I'm okay."

Ian buried his face in the crook of Mickey's neck as he established a slow, shallow pace. "You feel so good, knew you would."

Mickey was panting against Ian's ear and writhing beneath him as Ian began thrusting relentlessly.

Ian grabbed Mickey's hands and pinned them down to the luxury vinyl of the kitchen floor. He stared down at Mickey beneath him, their eyes locking. "I've wanted this for too long," he muttered. "Dreamt about it."

"I wanted this since the first moment I fuckin' saw you," Mickey rasped.

Ian pulled Mickey up from the floor in one swift motion so that Mickey was bouncing in Ian's lap. He wrapped his arms around Mickey and buried his face in the crook of Mickey's neck.

"You feel amazing," Mickey muttered hotly in his ear. "I love your cock, no one else fucks me like this." He rode Ian hard, already feeling his second orgasm of the night nearing. "Fuck, Ian," he gasped when Ian wrapped a tight hand around his cock, stroking him in time with their frantic thrusts.

"Wanna make you come again," Ian moaned against Mickey's neck. "Like makin' you come."

"Like when you make me come," Mickey breathed, smiling against Ian's ear. "Make me come, c'mon." Their thrusting was becoming erratic as they both chased their orgasms. "Make me fuckin' come," Mickey pleaded.

Ian let out a strangled groan as Mickey's words sent him over the edge, and Ian froze as he came hard.

Mickey wrapped his arms tighter around Ian's shoulders and continued riding Ian through his orgasm. A couple dozen thrusts later, Mickey came all over Ian's stomach with a tremble and a guttural moan.

Once he was completely spent, Ian pressed a soft kiss to Mickey's lips as he carefully maneuvered Mickey back to the floor, and he pulled out to lie next to him. They both stared up at the ceiling, their chests heaving as they struggled to catch their breaths.

The last thing Mickey remembered was rolling over and throwing an arm across Ian's chest, and a pair of warm, soft lips brushing against his sweaty forehead before he drifted to sleep.

Mickey's eyes fluttered open to see daylight. It took a minute for his vision to focus and, when it did, he was faced with Ian's sleeping face just inches from his. Mickey couldn't stop the small smile pulling at his lips as the events from the night before came flooding back. He had never felt better, more satisfied, in his entire life. He leaned in the few inches that separated them and placed a soft kiss on Ian's forehead. When Ian remained still, Mickey kissed Ian's cheek, and then he pressed a kiss to the tip of Ian's nose.

Ian finally stirred, and his eyes opened into slits. He stared back at Mickey for a few heartbeats. Finally, he smiled gently and leaned in, burrowing his face into Mickey's neck.

Mickey grinned, finding the whole thing to be achingly adorable. A few hours earlier, Ian had been pounding him relentlessly as he whispered filthy things into Mickey's ear; now Ian wanted to play shy?

"Morning," Mickey murmured, still smiling.

"G'morning," Ian mumbled, finally lifting his head and looking around. "Are we really sleepin' on the kitchen floor?"

"You wore us both out," Mickey said, aching to reach up and touch Ian's face, maybe run his hands through Ian's ruffled hair, but he refrained. "Didn't feel like movin'"

Ian turned his gaze to Mickey and smiled again, leaving Mickey no other choice but to finally caress his cheek and lean in for a kiss. Ian relaxed back against the floor, pulling Mickey on top of him.

"You ready to go again, tough guy?" Mickey asked, kissing down Ian's chin, over his throat, and then latching his mouth on the skin beneath Ian's ear. "Throwin' me up on the counter like I'm some bitch."

"You liked it."

"Mm, I did," Mickey hummed.

Ian laughed breathlessly as he ran a hand through Mickey's hair, keeping him close.

Mickey murmured against Ian's neck as he kept pressing random, open-mouthed kisses against Ian's skin, unable to get enough of him. He was already addicted to the man beneath him. He knew it was dangerous and incredibly foolish, but he was too far gone to turn back. He was going to take whatever Ian was willing to give him. He reached down and stroked Ian's dick, secretly pleased that Ian was already hard for him.

"Shit, Mickey…"

"Think we have time for another round?"

Ian didn't answer, he only grabbed the back of Mickey's head and pulled him in for another kiss. The kiss was slow and lazy, the tips of their tongues tangling as they slowly began rocking against each other.

Mickey pulled back from the kiss just enough so he could stare down into Ian's face. His chest tightened with emotion. Mickey reached up and brushed his thumb along Ian's cheekbone.

Ian visibly swallowed as he stared back, a moment passing between them.

Just then, Ian's phone vibrated noisily on the kitchen counter.

"You need to get that?" Mickey asked, his voice hoarse.

"Nope," Ian said with a pop of his lips before pulling Mickey down for another kiss. When his phone went off a second time a couple moments later, Ian groaned and gently pushed at Mickey's chest. "Hold on, I'll be quick, it could be my sister. My brother Liam has been sick the last couple days."

Mickey rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes sliding over Ian's naked body.

Ian threw Mickey a sexy glance over his shoulder before grabbing his phone. His face immediately fell when he saw who was calling. "Shit." He turned around and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey. Yeah. Now?"

Mickey sat upright when he sensed Ian's distress. He stood up and gathered his clothes.

"Okay… you too," Ian mumbled before ending the call and slowly turning to face Mickey. "You, uh, you should probably go."

Mickey felt like he'd gotten punched in the gut when Ian's words registered.

"That was Ayden," Ian said before running a hand over his face. "Fuck!" he exclaimed. "I called him last night when I was upset after I left your place. He… he took the red-eye a couple hours ago from New York. He's on his way home now from the airport."

Mickey watched as Ian paced back and forth. He tugged his jeans on and pulled his shirt down over his head with reluctant movements, not knowing what to say or do. The last thing he wanted to do was walk out the door.

Ian stopped pacing and faced Mickey, his face softening. "Last night was amazing, Mickey. It really was, but… it can't happen again. Can we just pretend it never happened? Please? It was just a one-night thing, right? We both agreed on that?"

Mickey stared blankly back at him, crushed.

"Mickey, don't look at me like that," Ian pleaded, his eyes sad. "You knew what last night was. You said—"

"Nah, man, I get it," Mickey spat, moving out of the way when Ian reached for him. "I fuckin' get it. Let me get outta here before your fiancé gets home." Mickey moved past Ian, but Ian caught Mickey's arm before he could get too far.

"Hey," Ian breathed. "Look at me, Mickey, don't go like this."

Mickey froze, and then he softened under Ian's scrutiny. "I get it, alright," he finally said after a long pause. He shook his arm from Ian's grasp. "I get it. We'll act like nothing happened. Whatever." Mickey walked to the door and left without another word.

After taking a quick shower, Ian was sitting at the counter island when Ayden walked through the door a little while later. He looked up and forced a small smile for his fiancé's benefit. "Hey."

Ayden dropped his luggage next to the door and walked over to Ian. Without saying a word, he cupped Ian's face in his hands and kissed him softly on the mouth.

When Ayden pulled away, Ian looked at him dumbly.

"I'm sorry," Ayden said, smoothing his thumbs over Ian's cheeks. "When I hung up with you last night, I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. You're right. I've been saying no to you way too often lately. I want to change that. I want to work on us."

Ian's heart sank as Ayden's words registered.

Ayden pulled Ian close and pressed a kiss to his temple.

Even as Ayden hugged him tight and whispered sweet-nothings into his ear, Ian couldn't help but think about the way Mickey's mouth had felt on his. How good it had felt buried deep inside Mickey. He couldn't help but think about how waking up next to Mickey that morning had seemed more right and more perfect than anything in his life ever had.

Ayden finally pulled away from the embrace and smiled down at Ian. "You and me."

"You and me," Ian repeated back with a small, forced smile.

As soon as Ayden turned his back to head towards the bathroom, the smile slipped from Ian's face.