Ian had a feeling Mickey was avoiding him. It'd been two days since Ian last seen or spoken to him.

After dropping by Mickey and Mandy's apartment to no avail and checking the diner to find out that Mickey was off for the day, Ian headed to Mickey's small office where he did his wedding planning, hoping to catch Mickey there. He pulled open the door and was greeted by the same blonde woman who had greeted him that first day he had walked through that door; the day that had essentially changed his life.

"Hi, may I help you?" the woman asked with a bright smile that quickly faltered upon recognizing him. "Oh… hi." Her eyes darted towards the back of the small office space, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Uh, how can I help you?"

"I'm lookin' for Mickey, actually," Ian said, wondering why the woman was acting so strange. He wiped at his mouth, wondering if he had some mustard there from the hot dog he'd devoured on the way over. "Is he here?"

"Do you have an appointment with us today?" the woman asked a little too sweetly, looking down at her appointment book and nervously biting down on her pen.

"No, I don't have an appointment. Mickey and I, uh… we're friends," Ian answered carefully. "I really need to talk to him about something important. Is he here?"

Just then, Mandy came walking up from the back, her eyes downcast as she scanned over some papers in her hands.

"Em, can you call mister Andrews over at Just Flowers and ask him if he has those calla—" Mandy immediately shut up and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Ian standing there. "Ian, hey, you're here," she said, her voice sounding weird. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

"Hey," Ian said with a small smile. He frowned a little as he noticed the strange look Mandy and Emily exchanged.

"What are you doin' here?" Mandy asked again.

"I need to talk to Mickey about something," Ian answered, still frowning as he watched Mandy avoid his eyes. "Is he around?"

"He stepped out for a bit," Mandy answered. "I'll let him know you stopped by, though. I'll have him call you as soon as he gets back."

"Yeah, I tried that, he's not exactly returning my calls or texts." Ian walked over to one of the chairs lining the wall and sat down. "I'll just sit here and wait for him to get back if that's okay."

"It might be a while," Mandy said, perhaps a little too quickly. "He has a full day booked. He's a pretty busy guy… you know, with all the wedding planning he does."

Ian shrugged. "That's okay, I don't have anywhere else to be right now. I can wait."

Mandy smiled at him, and it seemed to be a bit forced, but Ian decided not to question it. "Okay," she said. "I'm just gonna run in the back and… and take care of something."

Ian watched as Mandy turned and hurried towards the back of the office. He then looked over at Emily, who quickly looked down before his eyes could land on her. He couldn't help but frown, wondering what the hell was going on, and why everyone was acting so fucking weird.

Mickey felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it. He rested his head back against the brick wall behind him and closed his eyes, trying once again to get lost in the moment.

His phone went off again a minute later, and the guy who was on his knees in front of him pulled away from Mickey's cock with a wet pop of his lips and looked up at Mickey irritably. "You wanna get that? It's a little distracting."

Mickey grabbed the back of the guy's head and pushed him forward lightly, hinting for him to keep going. "Did I ask you to stop?" he snapped. He sneered down at the guy as he sucked him back down. He reluctantly reached into his pocket to retrieve his still-buzzing phone. When he saw that it was his sister calling (and not Ian), he answered. "The fuck do you want?"

"You need to get your ass down here, now!"

"Sorry, can't," Mickey retorted as he gripped the guy's head with his free hand and slowly fucked into his mouth. When his dick hit the back of the guy's throat, Mickey moaned filthily, not caring that his sister most likely could put together what was going on. "I'm busy."

"Ian is here, dickhead!" Mandy spat, her voice a hoarse whisper. "He's here at my office looking for your stupid ass, and he's not leaving! You do remember you're lying to him, right? That you're not really a wedding planner?"

At that, Mickey straightened up and reached down to grab the guy's hair, pulling the warm mouth abruptly away from his cock. "What the fuck do you mean Ian's there?"

"The hell else would I mean by that, dipshit?" Mandy spat. "Put your dick away and get your ass here now, unless you want me to tell him everything."

It was on the tip of Mickey's tongue to tell her to just go ahead and tell Ian everything, to end the thing once and for all, but instead, he said, "Fine, give me ten minutes. Jesus." Mickey hung up and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Fuck."

The guy Mickey had randomly picked up at a bar on his way home from work stood up and wiped at his wet chin, looking perturbed by the interruption. "So, are we done here or what?" he snapped. "You didn't even come."

"Yeah, we're done," Mickey grumbled as he tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. He barely acknowledged the guy leaving the alley. He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. Seeing Ian was the last thing he wanted to do.

Ian was bored out of his mind and was keeping himself busy by flipping through a shitty tabloid magazine. When the door finally opened, he looked up to find Mickey sauntering in. His heart immediately sped up at the sight of the other man, and he stood up abruptly, tossing the magazine aside. "Hey."

"Hey," Mickey said curtly, refusing to meet Ian's eyes.

"Where have you been?" Ian asked after a pause, taking a step closer. "I've been calling and texting you. I went to your place, went to the diner. They said you were—"

"And you still can't take a fuckin' hint, can you?" Mickey snapped, shooting Ian a glaring look.

Ian frowned and recoiled a little at Mickey's harsh tone. He was vaguely aware of Emily standing up slowly from her seat. He swallowed hard before asking, "The fuck's up with you?"

"I think I'm gonna go take my break now," Emily said before moving between the two infuriated men and pushing through the door to go outside, leaving them alone.

Ian watched as Mickey crossed his arms and leaned back casually against the desk, still refusing to look at him. After a long pause, Ian asked, "So, that's it, then?"

"Yeah," Mickey snapped, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. "That's it."

Ian chuckled dryly and shook his head incredulously. After a pause, he said, "So, you sleep with me, you got what you wanted, and now it's over… just like that? No conversation, no nothing?"

Mickey was finally looking at Ian, but his stare was anything but kind. "Oh, fuck off," he spat venomously. "That wasn't what the fuck that was, and you know it."

"Then tell me how it was, Mickey!" Ian exclaimed, his voice wavering. "You sleep with me, and then you ignore me? What the hell else am I supposed to think!"

"Oh, excuse the fuck outta me, asshole!" Mickey bellowed. "You fucked me and tossed me out the next morning like I was fuckin' trash."

"What the hell was I supposed to do!" Ian yelled back. "Ayden was on his way home. I didn't know he was coming back that early! I was just as surprised as you were!"

Mickey pushed away from the desk, shaking his head curtly. "Whatever, I'm done. This," he said, waving a hand between them, "is done. Go back to your rich fuckin' sugar daddy, your fancy penthouse and million dollar wardrobe, and leave me the fuck alone. You're done slummin' it."

"Slumming it?" Ian repeated, his tone incredulous, his eyebrows furrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Fuck this, get the fuck out."

"Mickey, just let me—"

"Are you fuckin' deaf?" Mickey yelled. "Get out!"

Ian bit his lower lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. After a brief stare down, he finally nodded and hung his head. "Okay, got it, I'll leave you alone." He turned and headed for the door.

"It's better this way," Mickey called out before Ian could leave. "It never shoulda happened to begin with! I shoulda just walked the fuck away from your ass a long time ago."

Ian didn't say anything, only hesitated for a few seconds with his back to Mickey, before finally pushing his way out the door.

Mandy came out from her hiding spot in the back a few moments later, having heard everything, and regarded her brother sadly. "You okay?"

Mickey was leaning back against the desk, rubbing at his bleary eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah," he snapped, before straightening up and sniffing. "You gotta be cruel to be fuckin' kind, right? Isn't that what they say? Asshole couldn't take the hint."

"Mick, you don't—"

"It's over," Mickey spat, even though his eyes shone with emotion. "It's done. Time for me to finally move the fuck on. I'll see you later back at the place." He pushed his way outside, refusing to let his sister see he was hurting a lot more than he was willing to let on.

The next night, Mickey was standing in the back alley of the diner, dragging on a cigarette and mentally counting down the hours until his twelve-hour shift was finally over. He looked up when the door opened to find that Jermaine was joining him for a smoke. "What's up, man," he muttered amicably.

"Mickey, my dude!" Jermaine singsonged as he cupped his hand around his cigarette to light it. After taking a long drag, he asked on his exhale, "You comin' out with us tonight for some drinks? We need it after this long-ass day."

"Nah, man," Mickey said, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand. "Not really up for goin' out tonight," he finished, knowing he was most likely going to lounge on his couch for the night and down a six-pack of beer and pretend he wasn't thinking about a certain redhead.

"Ah, come on, man, just stop for a few," Jermaine convinced. "We're hittin' up that club we went to a couple weeks back, the Fairy Tail? Hey, maybe your hot bartender friend will be there, and he can hook us up with some free drinks again," he finished, hitting Mickey on the chest with the back of his hand.

Mickey mindlessly toyed with his cigarette between his lips as he contemplated Jermaine's offer. On one hand, Mickey knew he should stay far the fuck away from Ian and the Fairy Tail. On the other hand, the more persuasive hand, he couldn't really turn down the opportunity to find a warm mouth for the night, maybe even piss Ian off a little in the process.

"Yeah, alright," Mickey found himself saying against his better judgment. "I'm game."

Ian was mindlessly wiping at the bar top and laughing at a bad joke one of his regulars was telling when he looked up just in time to see Mickey saunter into the club with his group of work friends.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Ian grumbled under his breath. He then shook his head, laughed dryly, and started wiping harder at the bar top, wondering to himself what the fuck Mickey was up to. Just the day before, Mickey had told Ian to stay the fuck away from him. Suddenly, Mickey was at his work. Ian wasn't exactly sure how that was supposed to work.

Sure enough, Mickey and his friends chose to order their drinks at the other end of the bar. Ian was completely okay with that, wanting to avoid Mickey as much as he could.

As pissed off and hurt as Ian was, Ian understood why Mickey had been upset, he understood why Mickey had said the things he'd said. And Ian knew, deep down, that it was for the best. Pissing each other off and staying the hell away from each other was for the best.

Or it had been until Mickey decided to show up at his job.

Ian went about his business, refilling beers and taking food orders. An hour had gone by, and he was doing a really good job of ignoring Mickey completely. That was until he looked up and spotted Mickey a few yards away from the bar, leaning in and smirking seductively as some guy whispered something into his ear.

Ian watched the exchange with growing anger and jealousy. He swallowed down the sour lump in his throat and turned his back to the display as he mixed shots for an awaiting customer. When he looked back over his shoulder a minute later, his heart sank down to his stomach when he saw that the guy was kissing and practically slurping at Mickey's neck, his hand palming the front of Mickey's jeans.

Mickey's head was tipped back, his eyes closed, his bottom lip tucked in his mouth as he palmed the back of the guy's head. Mickey clearly seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Ian muttered. He slammed the cocktail shaker down, walked around the bar, and marched over to the pair. He awkwardly tapped Mickey on the shoulder. "Yeah, hi," he spat once Mickey turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. He tried as best he could to ignore Mickey's tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"The fuck's it look like I'm doing?" Mickey shot back as the guy kept kissing Mickey's neck, completely unperturbed by Ian's interruption.

"Do you really have to do it five feet from where I'm working?" Ian shot back, trying to keep his tone steady and resisting the overwhelming urge to grab the guy roughly by the hair to pull him away from Mickey.

"It's a public bar," Mickey retorted with a sniff. "I can do whatever I want."

Ian stared back, swallowing visibly as he fought through his emotions.

"Can do whoever I want."

Ian tilted his head and stared back at Mickey, wishing he would show some decency. "Really? This is really how it's gonna be, huh?" He didn't want to show any emotion. In fact, he had every intention of not showing any emotion at all. He wanted Mickey to believe he was unfazed by all of it. But standing there, so close to Mickey and looking into his eyes while some fucking tweaked-out asshole hung all over him, Ian couldn't help the tears from prickling at the corners of his eyes.

When Mickey arched his brows and didn't say anything more, Ian turned around and tossed his rag onto the bar top before heading back towards the restrooms, needing to collect himself before returning to work.

Once Ian was back by the restrooms, where he was alone and the music wasn't so loud, he heard someone call out from behind him.

"Ey, you don't get to do this!"

Ian turned around to find that Mickey had followed him. "Do what?" he snapped.

"You don't get to fuck me on your kitchen floor, toss me out the next morning like I'm nothing, and then get pissed at me for makin' out with some dude at a club!"

"Oh, come the fuck on, Mickey," Ian shot back, his face scrunching in irritation. "What was I supposed to do? Keep you around and have Ayden walk in on us? You were there! You made that choice just as much as I did! You knew the consequences!"

Mickey just stared back at Ian as he gnawed on his lower lip.

"You think any of this is easy for me?" Ian asked, his voice quivering with emotion as he took a step closer, crowding into Mickey's personal space. "I'm supposed to be getting married in two weeks! You think I like thinking about another guy, dreaming about another guy? Wishing it was another guy under me when I'm fucking my fiancé? You tell me to leave you alone, so I did, even though it's the last thing I wanted to do, I walked away because I know it's the right thing to do, then you show up here and make out with some douchebag right in front of me? What are you tryin' to prove here, Mickey?"

"Fuck you," Mickey spat, before turning to walk away. "Fuck this, I'm out."

"No, you're not fuckin' walking away," Ian said, grabbing Mickey by the arm to stop him. "Tell me what you're tryin' to prove by throwin' yourself at some guy right in front of me!"

Mickey shook his arm roughly from Ian's grasp. "Fuck off, I don't have to explain shit to you."

"Fuckin' tell me, Mickey!"

"I want you to hurt as much as I am, alright!" Mickey exclaimed, immediately clamping his mouth shut and looking away. He chuckled sardonically and scrubbed a hand down his face, mentally chiding himself for the outburst.

"You don't think I am?" Ian asked after a long, heavy pause. "Shit, Mickey, I'm fuckin' hurting. I'm hurting because… because I hurt you, and because I'm lying to him, and I put myself in this fucked-up situation, and I don't know how to get out of it! I know I should just move on and let you go, but I can't seem to fuckin' do that! And I don't need you showin' up where I work and rubbing that shit in my goddamn face!"

Mickey slowly lifted his eyes to meet Ian's.

"None of this is easy for me," Ian finished, his voice sad. "You gotta know that."

Mickey nodded curtly and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yeah, okay," he muttered. "I'm just gonna go. You're right. I shouldn't be here. I'll find somewhere else to go." He turned around and was about to head back out to the main floor, but Ian was quicker.

Before either of them could fully grasp what was happening, Ian grabbed Mickey's arm and tugged him backward, and then he pressed him back against the wall. He planted the palms of his hands on the wall behind Mickey's head and caged him in. He touched his forehead to Mickey's and breathed him in. "Don't go," he whispered, his words shaky.

"Ian," Mickey chastised. "Stop."

"I just… don't go," Ian whispered again. "I don't want you to go."

Mickey sighed. "I have to."

Ian exhaled unsteadily. He removed one of his hands from the wall and slipped it inside Mickey's jacket to grip his waist, pulling Mickey a little closer.

"Ian."

Ian leaned down the few inches that separated them and pressed his lips against Mickey's.

Mickey sighed against Ian's mouth and then opened willingly when Ian licked at his lips. He groaned deep in his throat when their tongues touched.

Ian slipped his other hand down to Mickey's waist and pulled Mickey fully against him as they kissed lazily. Without a second thought, he maneuvered Mickey to the side a few steps, and then he was pushing them both through the swinging door into the men's restroom and into an empty stall.

After being pressed against the stall door, Mickey pulled away from the heated kiss to gasp for air. He then watched with hooded eyes as Ian dropped to his knees in front of him. "Yeah," he breathed, his fingers carding through Ian's hair. "Suck my dick."

Ian lifted his eyes and watched Mickey's face as he slowly undid Mickey's belt and zipper, before pulling Mickey's dick out. He pumped a few times and licked slowly up the underside before engulfing Mickey's dick completely with a moan.

Mickey ran his fingers through Ian's hair and gripped handfuls of it to guide Ian's mouth. He kept his eyes locked with Ian's and watched as his dick slipped between those pretty pink lips.

Ian grabbed handfuls of Mickey's ass and kneaded the meaty cheeks, moaning around Mickey's cock. He then lightly fingered at Mickey's hole, causing Mickey to let out a guttural moan.

"Christ, Ian," Mickey murmured as he gripped the back of Ian's neck and slowly fucked into his mouth. "Mm, suck that cock. You love how I taste, don't you? Yeah," he breathed when Ian exhaled heavily through his nose in response, "You can't get enough of that shit."

Ian moaned around him and sucked him in deeper, swallowing around Mickey's cock before choking.

Mickey moaned filthily and thumped his head against the stall behind him.

Ian pulled away with a gasp and a wet pop of his lips and slipped two fingers into his mouth to coat with spit, and then he reached around to push one finger inside Mickey, and then another until he was fucking Mickey with two fingers, crooking them and massaging against Mickey's prostate. He then groaned and sucked Mickey back down.

Mickey was a mess by that point, panting and trembling and hitting the back of Ian's throat with every desperate thrust. With Ian's throat swallowing around him, and his fingers hitting his prostate, it didn't take long. "Fuck, yeah, gonna come," he warned in a shaky voice only seconds before his hot come spurted down Ian's throat.

Ian swallowed everything Mickey gave him. He then gripped the base of Mickey's dick and stroked it a few times as he lapped and sucked at the spongy head until Mickey whimpered and bucked from being too sensitive. Ian stood up and pressed his mouth to Mickey's.

Mickey roughly gripped the back of Ian's neck and held him in place as he tongue-fucked Ian's mouth, wanting to taste himself on those lips and that tongue. When they finally broke apart, they touched foreheads, their heavy breathing mingling between them.

"Fuck," Mickey breathed as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Ian chuckled and planted a kiss against Mickey's damp forehead. "Yeah… fuck."

Mickey lifted his eyes to Ian's and visibly swallowed. He leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to Ian's lips.

"I need to get back to work," Ian murmured regretfully against Mickey's lips after a few heartbeats.

"And I need to get back to my date," Mickey intoned. On Ian's displeased look, he laughed. "Relax, I'm just fuckin' with you."

Ian took a step back and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "You could, you know."

Mickey raised his brows in question.

"You could go be with that other guy, I can't stop you," Ian continued, his tone sullen. "I have no right to stop you."

Mickey thumbed at his lower lip as he regarded Ian wearily. Finally, he sighed and said, "I know you don't… but you're the only person I wanna take home. How fuckin' pathetic is that?"

Ian dropped his gaze to the floor, pursed his lips, and nodded a little, letting Mickey's words register. After a long pause, he said, "I, um, I get off at two."

Mickey stepped forward and reached up to stroke Ian's cheek with his thumb. "You don't have to do this, man. I get it. You have a lot more at stake here than I do."

"I know I don't have to." Ian reached up and placed his hand over Mickey's. "I want to."

"It's not gonna solve anything," Mickey said after a handful of seconds, dipping his head to catch Ian's eyes. "In fact, it's only gonna make shit a whole lot worse."

"We don't have to figure everything out tonight, do we?" Ian asked. He then closed his eyes when Mickey leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"You get off at two, huh?"

Ian nodded, his eyes still closed. He then leaned in and kissed Mickey again. He felt guilty beyond words. He knew he was a piece-of-shit human being. But the way he felt about Mickey trumped all that for some reason. The way Mickey made him feel was all that mattered at that moment. "Your place?"

Mickey nodded after a moment's hesitation and leaned in for another peck. "This is fuckin' crazy," he murmured against Ian's mouth.

"I know," Ian breathed.

Mickey took a step back and scratched the back of his neck as he contemplated his next words. "Look… you get off in three hours. That's three hours for you to think about this, really think about it. If you don't show up at two, I'll know, and we can both just move the fuck on from whatever this is."

Ian nodded.

"Okay?" Mickey asked, reaching out to grip Ian's waist. "Alright?"

"Okay," Ian replied as he leaned in for one final kiss before Mickey reached behind himself and opened the stall door and left the bathroom. Ian slumped back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, knowing he only had a little less than three hours to make the biggest decision of his life.

Mickey brought his bottle back to his lips and took a swig as he continued pacing back and forth in his small living room. It was twelve minutes after two, and Ian still hadn't shown up. A small part of him was hoping Ian wouldn't show, that he would know for sure that it was over, and he could finally move on. The other, larger part of him wanted nothing more than to take that infuriating fucking redhead into his bedroom, disappear under the sheets, and not resurface for days.

Just as he threw his empty beer bottle into the trash and walked to the fridge to grab another, there was a light knock on the door.

He froze for a few seconds and pulled a shaky hand through his hair, contemplating whether or not he actually wanted to go through with it. Having an affair with an engaged man? Definitely not one of his brightest ideas ever. He sighed and made his way to the door. After opening the door and seeing Ian standing there, looking fresh from a shower and wearing a green shirt that brought out his eyes, he had his answer. He was doing it. Then again, it had never really been a question.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Uh, come in," Mickey said as he stepped aside to allow Ian to enter.

Ian brushed past him and into the apartment. He glanced around. "Is Mandy here?"

"She went to bed a couple hours ago," Mickey answered as he shut the door, his eyes focused on the short hairs at the back of Ian's head.

Ian placed his backpack on the kitchen counter and turned to look at Mickey. "So, uh, we're really doing this, then?"

"You tell me," Mickey said, scratching at his nose with his thumbnail.

Ian didn't say anything for a few heartbeats, he just stood there and watched him. After what seemed like forever, he slowly made his way over to Mickey and placed his hands on Mickey's hips. He pressed Mickey back against the door. "We're goin' to hell," Ian murmured as he dipped his head and placed a warm, lingering kiss against Mickey's neck.

Mickey visibly swallowed and nodded his head. "Looks like it."

Ian grabbed Mickey by the wrists and pinned Mickey's hands to the door above his head. They smiled softly as they regarded each other. He leaned in the few inches that separated them and captured Mickey's bottom lip between his teeth and playfully tugged.

It turned heated from there.

Mickey surged forward and slotted his mouth against Ian's, slipping his tongue between Ian's lips and swallowing Ian's satisfied gasp. He reached down and grabbed the bottom of Ian's shirt and pulled away from the kiss just long enough to tear it over Ian's head.

Ian gripped Mickey up and pulled him back in for another searing kiss as he reached down and began undoing Mickey's pants. In one swift motion, he pushed Mickey's pants and boxers down and leaned in to kiss him again as Mickey kicked out of the garments.

Ian worked on his own pants and kicked out of them, his foot getting caught, and he nearly stumbled as he hobbled on one leg. They both laughed breathlessly into the kiss and then turned serious again once Ian was free. Ian wrapped an arm around Mickey's waist and roughly pulled Mickey against him as the kiss grew more desperate and biting.

"Let's… let's take this to my room. Want you in my fuckin' bed," Mickey rasped against Ian's ear as Ian sucked at Mickey's neck. He pulled reluctantly away from Ian and began leading Ian back to his room.

Ian grabbed onto Mickey's hips as he followed, taking in the sight of Mickey's pale, plump ass the entire way. "Shit, Mickey," he mumbled.

Once they were in Mickey's bedroom and the door was closed, Mickey turned to Ian as he tore his own shirt over his head, leaving them both completely naked. "Last chance to back out," Mickey breathed, his chest heaving.

"Like hell I'm backin' out," Ian murmured, his eyes sliding appreciatively over Mickey's body.

Mickey walked around Ian and to his nightstand. He grabbed the condoms and lube and then walked back over to Ian.

Ian leaned back against the door and raised an eyebrow, making no move to take the proffered condom.

Mickey smirked a little, knowing where Ian was getting at. He tore the condom open with his teeth, spit the wrapper out, and then sank down to his knees. While keeping his eyes locked with Ian's, he leaned in and swirled his tongue over the head of Ian's cock, absolutely loving the mewling sounds coming from the other man. He then engulfed Ian's dick as much as he could, using his hand to cover the rest. He sucked Ian off until Ian was fully hard and revving to go. He pulled away with a moan and rolled the condom slowly over Ian's hard dick.

Ian reached down and grabbed Mickey by the arm to pull him up and then turned them so Mickey was back against the door. After Mickey wrapped a leg around Ian's waist, Ian grabbed the lube and slicked two fingers before reaching down between them and teasing the tight, puckered hole. "Feel good?" he murmured against Mickey's lips. On Mickey's nod, he slowly pushed his fingers past the tight ring of muscle and began scissoring Mickey loose.

Mickey gripped onto Ian's shoulders to steady himself, as Ian slowly fucked him with his fingers. He finally tore his mouth away from the heated kiss when it became too much. "I'm good. I'm good, let's go. I fuckin' need it."

"You need it, huh?" Ian breathed, resting his forehead against Mickey's. "Tell me how bad you need it."

"So fuckin' bad," Mickey rasped, and then he choked back a gasp when Ian lifted him up, pressing him hard against the door. "Ian, I want you so fuckin' bad," he breathed into Ian's ear, gripping onto the other man's back, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks that time, but Ian said nothing.

Ian held Mickey up against the door with one arm under him and used his other hand to guide his cock to Mickey's ass. "Yeah?" he rasped. "Tell me how you want it."

"I want it hard," Mickey moaned hotly against Ian's shoulder. He then bit down gently into Ian's flesh when the tip of Ian's cock breached him. "I want it hard," he gasped. "Ian. Fuck."

Ian dug his face into the crook of Mickey's neck and bit the sensitive flesh before smoothing his tongue over the mark. He pushed and pressed and rocked his way inside Mickey, loving the way Mickey's ass tightened and clenched around him. "Fuck, Mickey, so fuckin' tight for me."

Mickey wrapped his arms and legs tighter around Ian as Ian began relentlessly thrusting into him. The wooden door was cold and hard against Mickey's back but, at the moment, he didn't care. He cried out when Ian's dick brushed his prostate, and his head became dizzy with desire.

"So good," Ian groaned. "You feel so amazing," he said before capturing Mickey's lips in a rough, sloppy kiss as they continued fucking against the door. After a few minutes, Ian carried Mickey to the bed, laid him down, and fucked him slow and deep, Mickey's legs wrapped around his waist, their mouths not separating once.

Too caught up in the throes of passion, neither of them were aware of Ian's phone lighting up and vibrating in the middle of the living room floor, displaying Ayden's name on the screen.