Summary: Two big boys, having fun at a boring party. Ian/Ash, because I couldn't help myself.

Ian was wound up.

Well beyond wound up.

And he hated being this wound up. Hated that Ash could so fucking easily get him in this state. How the man sucked on that tequila straw so much and still looked natural was completely beyond him.

The hilariously elaborate party was starting to hit the midpoint. Ian had been downing Black Labels insanely in an attempt to drown out Ash's provocations.

It had only made things worse.

He watched from the bar as Ash fingered a mini-bottle of olive oil exquisitely,

tossing it up in the air in a curve and catching it perfectly.

As soon as he caught Ian's eye, he smirked and, making sure no one was looking, slid it inside his jacket pocket.

Such a simple action, and surprisingly obscene and explicit, with the suggestion already flooding Ian's bloodstream with endorphins and other fun hormones, already growing slightly hard.

He'd told himself he'd behave.

And yet here he was, cocking his head only slightly towards the more private gardens. To anyone else, he might simply be relaxing. But by Ash's smirk growing, he'd caught Ian's affirmative suggestions.

Time to get a move on then. Ash got up and smoothly and calmly slipped away. Ian took his merry time, finishing up his latest drink (Sixth? Seventh?), and stuffing a bunch of napkins in his pocket before following suit – and following Ash.

Ash pressed Ian up against the stone garden wall, kissing him harshly, Ian responding back with equal fervor as his one-track-minded hands were already sliding down Ash's nicely muscular chest, towards the waistband.

Grinding his hips against Ian's, Ash was certainly making things difficult, both logistically for Ian's hands, and in his concentration, his groin lighting up in reaction. But he managed to undo the damn tux fly, pushing them down, somewhat.

"No underwear?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow as he took Ash's already-growing erection in his hands.

"I like to be prepared," Ash said, pulling out the small bottle of olive oil he'd lifted earlier, barely controlling his own shuddering as Ian did purely magical things with his hands.

With a slight smirk, Ian took the bottle and wheeled them around, so now Ash was pressed up against the wall as Ian kneeled down, uncapping the bottle and pouring just a few drops of oil on Ash's throbbing-

"Oh, fuck, yes…" Ash moaned out, as Ian set down the bottle and started using the slight touch of oil to make his work interesting, getting harder and harder, himself, the more Ash half-moaned, barely keeping his voice down, lest they be heard.

Ian twirled the back of his fingers up and down Ash's length, smirking as Ash's head leaned back against the stone wall.

His tongue darted out to Ash's tip, lathering and far too quick and somehow not quick enough. Ash groaned as Ian started to get closer and closer, until suddenly, his mouth was around the head of Ash's cock.

He melted into the wall as Ian took him in deeper, but slowly, so somehow it was forever before he was writhing at the feel of his tip hitting the back of other man's throat.

And suddenly, Ian was pulling back.


Ash's hand shot down instantly to tangle in Ian's blond hair, pulling him back down, catching him momentarily off guard, but he took it all in stride, just like always, and let Ash push his head back down in time with the thrusting of his hips.

With Ian working him over, Ash nearly split his lip as he bit down to keep from making any noise. They were well hidden and in their own little world, but it wouldn't take too much for someone to come looking right here, investigating a strange noise like, say…God, like Ash moaning as Ian's tongue worked like a snake on his cock.

Ian just smirked with his eyes as Ash's eyes shut, struggling to stay upright, searching for purchase against the stone wall.

"I-Ian…" Ash murmured, but whatever he wanted to say was lost as his neck snapped and he came, cum slipping down Ian's throat, making him gag, but at least he kept it in.

As Ash recovered, Ian swallowed the slightly salty flavor from the back of his throat, standing up, unbuckling his own pants, and picking up the bottle of olive oil from where he'd dropped it. Lucky it had a tapered neck – not too much spilled out.

Failing at keeping his breath completely steady, Ian lathered up his own cock, nice and slick, before lowering Ash's trousers a bit more, as well, pressing him up against the wall as Ian dribbled some more oil over his fingers and dropped the bottle to the ground.

Sliding them into Ash, he realized that he wouldn't need much preparation. The man's muscles were loose and waiting. Good thing, considering how little time they had.

"My, my," Ian breathed into Ash's ears as he lined up his cock. "Prepared…yes, yes you are…"

And he plunged in, all the way, Ash's mouth frozen open in shock, first pain emanating out. Then slowly, as Ian gyrated his hips, moving slowly in and out, the pain faded, and the pleasure took over.

"Ah…" he said, as Ian hit the angle perfectly, oh, just that spot…

"I'm sorry to have to rush this," Ian mumbled into Ash's ear, warm breath ticking the surprisingly-sensitive nerves there, as he thrust in, driving in, only slow to maintain some form of self-control…he pressed up his hands against the stone wall, by Ash's head, and just a bit above, to brace himself to thrust.

"No…problem…" Ash panted out. "Just…make it up to me…next time."

"I will," Ian promised, thrusting in, hitting just the right spot. He groaned aloud, hoping no one would hear.

Ash's hands wrapped around Ian, waist and shoulder, pulling the man close with each thrust, using them to drive Ian in deeper, his legs already cramping from the awkward position as it was.

"Much…much…better…" Ian gasped out, punctuated with a particularly brutal thrust…

He bit down on Ash's shoulder, taking care to avoid the neck, when he came, the solid muscle stifling his cries.

As he slowed, he felt Ash tense up around him, and couldn't help but marvel at the nearly inhuman stamina. Say what you will about the man, he could go in almost indefinitely, and could rejuvenate quickly.

And he was also glad he'd thought to bring napkins.

Kitting up properly again, Ian said, "So…I hear you and John are getting deep into the Scorpia thing?"

"Yea," Ash said. "Hopefully, getting married won't change things up too much."

"Mm…" Ian said. "He's terrified. Been living a bachelor for too long."

They shared a look and laughed. John Rider could face down mafia heads without a drop of fear, but the thought of an angry Helen was enough to drive him to actively hide away in their homes.

"So," Ian said, as Ash started walking out. "See you later?"

"You better – you promised."

And then he was gone, and Ian smiled to himself.

"I did, didn't I?"

A/N: Sorry, fair readers. I realized there was apparently no Ian/Ash and just had to write one.