A/N: Well, since today is my one year anniversary as an author on LPF, I decided I wanted to continue my mini tradition of slashy Valentine's Day oneshots. Thus, this idea was born. It was originally intended to be just one chapter, but it took more time than I anticipated to get the descriptions right, so I was forced to split it up. I apologize for that, but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and hopefully the second part will be up soon.

Now, I almost talked myself out of posting this at all, because there are so many talented slash writers here, and I'm not too proud to admit that smut isn't my strongest point as a writer. But, I worked hard on it and I don't think it came out too terribly. Also, I'm not sure it's in the right genre, but unfortunately there is no 'Lust & Hot Sex' category, so it'll have to do.

I know I've fallen horribly behind both here on LPF and on Twitter, but hopefully can catch up very soon. I'll spare you the details, but life's been a bitch lately. I've missed everyone here greatly <3 Well, I think that's about it, I'll shut up now.

WARNING, PLEASE READ: This story contains very heavy, detailed slashy/smutty/sexual scenes, and those are the primary plot drivers. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with that. You have been warned!

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In a small, secluded bar hidden away in a dark corner of the Los Angeles suburb, sat a lonely young man. Normally, he would've felt right at home in the cozy pub, would've enjoyed the solitude. But even he knew that drinking by himself was a sad place to be on Valentine's Day.

With a sigh, he downed his fourth shot of the night. A quick glance at his surroundings confirmed his observation from two shots ago - yes, he was counting in shots, since he didn't give a rat's ass what time it was - that he was the only person in the bar under the age of forty. Well, unless he counted the bartender, which he didn't. It was obvious from the way the man fidgeted behind the counter and kept glancing up at the clock that he had somewhere much more exciting to be.

"Would you like another?"

The bar man's words brought the other man out of his melancholy haze, and he nodded his affirmation before returning to his oh-so-riveting task of staring at his hands and cursing the world for imposing on him the cruel joke that was his life. About a minute later, the small glass of sinful liquid was placed in front of him, and he reached for his wallet to pay off the tab immediately. He plucked out a five dollar bill and slid it across the table, but the barkeep just shook his head.

"This one's on the house."

The man raised an eyebrow, giving a solemn nod of his head and pocketing the money, but his lip curled in disgust once the bartender turned his back. He never passed up the opportunity for a free drink, but he hated the look of pity in the server's eyes. It was the same look his boss had given him earlier that evening when suggesting he take the rest of the night off. It was the same look his friend Brad had given him a week ago when he'd showed up on his doorstep, desperate for a place to stay. It was the same look his now ex-girlfriend Sam had given him ten days ago whilst explaining that she just didn't love him anymore.

With his eyes shut tight, he drank his 'complimentary' shot, which made ... five? At least he thought so, but really, what was the point of keeping track anyways? He was about to head home to his slightly smaller but just as dismal room in Brad's apartment, when another man strode into the bar and sat down a few seats to his left, capturing his attention.

Dark and mysterious, the raven-haired stranger crossed his legs and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table in front of him. He let out a soft, contented sigh, getting comfortable and acting as if he had all the time in the world. He was attractive by anyone's standard, and what the lonely man could not figure out, was why such a good looking, seemingly happy person would be alone in a bar at this time of night.

"Hey, Mike!" The barkeep greeted the cunning man, nodding his head in recognition. "What'll it be? The usual?"

So, his name was Mike... Not the sort of name the other man had expected, but in some way it suited him. And not only that, but apparently Mike was also a frequent customer.

"Hey Dave, how's the mistress?" Mike replied to the bar man with a handsome grin. Mike spared a look at the solitary man to his right, lips curving into a barely concealed smirk before returning his attention to Dave. "Yeah... Gimme the usual."

The other man dropped his gaze back down to his hands, cheeks heating in embarrassment at having been caught staring. But what was that little smirk about? He wondered.

"She's lonely," Dave's voice rang out, answering Mike's first question. "Two more hours, then I can get out of here and go see her." His face shone with pure exuberance while he poured - oddly enough - two shots of tequila for Mike.

Once the drinks were set down in front of him, Mike's eyes again met with the reclusive man's, who this time found himself unable to look away. That dazzling smile appeared again on Mike's features, and the lone man thought it looked decidedly brighter now that it was directed towards himself.

"Why don't you join me for a drink?" Mike offered, gesturing to the tequila shots. When the other man hesitated, he added, "On me, of course."

The other still did not respond, seemingly stunned that Mike had not only noticed him, but offered him a drink. Just when Mike thought that maybe the man didn't hear him, the latter stood up, his slow, methodical steps resounding in the quiet place while he made his way across the bar to where Mike was sitting and took a cautious seat next to him.

Without a word Mike slid the drink his way, a bit of the liquid splashing over the edge of the glass and coating his fingers due to the rough movement. Not missing a beat, Mike brought the hand to his mouth, tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precious alcohol, which elicited the smallest of gasps from the man sitting beside him. Mike let out a small chuckle, intrigued by the strange character.

"So, what's your name?"

The man mumbled something that Mike couldn't quite hear, causing him to lean in closer.

"Say again?" Mike's soft voice requested, his nose mere inches away from the other man's.

"It's, uh ... Chester." He breathed out. His eyes still showed apprehension, but it was quickly being overshadowed by curiosity.

"Chester..." Mike repeated, as if testing out the word. "What an interesting name."

Chester could feel Mike's breath against his lips, causing an involuntary shiver to run through him. But just as soon as he felt it, the sensation was gone, Mike having pulled back and settled into his chair once again.

"Well, Chester," Mike smiled, picking up his shot glass, "Let's have a toast! To, ah..." He paused, his mind searching for a worthy occasion.

"Oh!" His eyes lit up. "To all the money we're saving today by not having bitches to woo."

Chester grinned for the first time that night, shaking his head a bit but nonetheless raising his glass and clinking it against Mike's before downing the shot, savoring the way it burned his throat. This 'Mike' was an interesting guy, he decided. The man's ability to make light of even the dullest of situations was fascinating.

While Mike turned to Dave for another round of drinks, Chester took the opportunity to study his appearance. Even through his black leather jacket, it was obvious that his muscles were well defined. His hands looked smooth and soft, long artist's fingers extending from them, yet they still maintained a masculine shape. His fingernails were tinted by specks of color, but it wasn't nail polish. Paint, maybe?

He had thick, dark hair styled into sophisticated spikes, the tips tinted a dark shade of blue that would've been easy to miss if one weren't paying attention. His eyes seemed to dance with peaceful amusement at the slightest of things, and Chester was convinced the combination of Mike's wide smile and bright, white teeth would be enough to blind a person, should they stare for too long. He also had plump, inviting lips that would surely feel amazing wrapped around his-

Chester's eyes widened, and he clamped a hand over his mouth, as if he were afraid the inappropriate thoughts would slip out and betray him to the attractive man next to him. What in the hell was he thinking?! Mike noticed Chester's discomfort, and reached out to touch the other man's arm in a comforting gesture.

"Chester, you alright? Have a little too much to drink maybe?"

"No! No, I'm fine, really." Chester answered a little too quickly. "I just, uh, have a couple questions, I guess." He sputtered, desperate to change the subject.

Mike cocked his head to the side, sipping on a mug of beer identical to the one now sitting in front of Chester. "Okay, shoot."

"Oh, uh, okay... Well, one, how did you know I don't have a girlfriend or anything? And two, why don't you have a girl?"

Mike raised an eyebrow at the amusing and possibly suggestive set of questions. "To answer your first question, tell me - if you had a girl, would you really have been sitting in here by yourself?"

"Well, er ... no." Chester shrugged, defeated.

Mike couldn't help but snicker. Chester mesmerized him to a degree that he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Hey, no need to feel bad about it." He coaxed, his hand resting on Chester's knee.

Chester flinched the slightest bit at the touch, silently cursing himself for being so jumpy. He hoped Mike hadn't noticed the move, but if he did, the other man wasn't showing it. Chester forced himself to look into Mike's eyes, voicing in a tone just above a whisper,

"And what about the second question?"

The corner of Mike's mouth curved into a sexy smirk. He kept his smoldering gaze trained on Chester, even though he could tell it was making the guy a bit uncomfortable.

"To be honest, women don't really interest me." He could see Chester's eyes go wide in surprise and a hint of confusion, but he continued on. "See, they're all the same to me. So damn predictable. But not like you. No, I can tell you're quite the unique character. I can tell just from your aura. It's captivating, really..." Mike's voice dropped to a seductive purr as he said the word 'captivating', his hand traveling a few inches higher from Chester's knee, coming to rest on his thigh.

Chester gulped, his breath becoming caught in his throat. Maybe he was just becoming delusional from all those shots, but ... was Mike flirting with him?

No. No way, it just wasn't possible. What would a guy like Mike see in him anyways? Nothing, that's what. He was a good-for-nothing loser, kicked out of his own apartment by the girl he'd planned to marry one day. Oh ... oh yeah, and besides, he was straight, Chester told himself - a little frustrated that this wasn't the first reason that popped into his mind.

Chester shook his head, realizing he still hadn't responded to the confession. He glanced back up, seeing Mike still watching him with a small smile, seeming undeterred by his silence.

"Oh, well, I ... I'm really not all that interesting." He stuttered.

Mike raised a well sculpted eyebrow, looking rather unconvinced. He leaned in dangerously close to Chester's ear, speaking just loud enough for the other man to hear.

"And you're modest, too. How cute."

Unable to help himself, he let his tongue snake out for a taste of the milky skin just underneath Chester's ear, confirming his suspicion - Chester was the sweetest tasting thing in the bar.

Chester whimpered - yes, actually fucking whimpered - at the arousing wetness teasing his skin for just a few seconds before it was removed, leaving him with a strange desire for more. He mentally kicked himself for letting his damn emotions spiral out of control like this. He needed to get away, this guy was making him crazy...

"I'll, uh, be right back." He muttered, standing up and all but running for the restroom.

After shutting it behind him, Chester leaned his back against the closed bathroom door, letting out a sigh while he tried to catch his breath. He felt like an impetuous teenager again, letting himself get worked up over a man who was obviously just toying with him. He let out a deep sigh. Maybe he should just go home, so he could mourn the rest of his shitty Valentine's Day in the darkness and solitude of his little room at Brad's place.

Yes, he decided, that's what he would do. He would walk straight out of the bar and never come back. Never have to see that strange man again. He stepped over to the urinal to relieve himself before making his escape, letting out a low groan of satisfaction.

Once he was done he made to fix up his pants again, but paused to frown at his forming erection. His own fingers felt good against his bare skin, and god, it had been ages since he'd had any type of sexual release. Sam had stopped having sex with him months ago.

Chester's fingers involuntarily began stroking up and down his shaft, and within seconds he was at full hardness. He growled, shaking his head and giving into his urges. His hand sped up its pace, aided by the pre cum leaking from the tip of his dick, his unused palm coming to rest on the wall in front of him to help keep himself upright. He was beginning to feel woozy, probably from a combination of the alcohol and the lack of blood flow to his brain at the moment.

His hips began thrusting into his skilled palm, his movements white hot. Little moans and cries poured from his lips, his cock beginning to pulse. He was so close, so fucking close...

The sound of the door opening behind him caused Chester to freeze in place for a moment, before he tucked his straining length back into his boxers and hiked up his jeans, frantic to cover up the evidence of his ministrations. But it was too late. Mike stood in the doorway, a twisted smirk on his face.

"Please, don't stop on my account." He hummed, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning against it.

Chester felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor for the next fifty years, until this mortifying experience had been forgotten. He ignored Mike's statement and focused his attention on trying to button up his jeans, groaning in exasperation as his hands shook too much for him to accomplish the task.

Chester felt a presence come up behind him, followed by Mike's strong hands gripping his own, stopping his efforts. He shivered at the feel of Mike's breath on his neck, before the man's lips made contact, suckling on the fair skin of his throat. While Mike held Chester's arms still with one hand, the other traveled underneath Chester's tee shirt, fingers playing with the taut skin of his abdomen.

Chester tensed at the touch, shaking his head and making a weak attempt at escaping Mike's hold. "N-no, we can't ... I mean, I'm not-"

"Not what?" Mike husked in his ear. "Horny? In desperate need of some ... intimate attention?"

His hand slipped inside Chester's boxers to slowly milk his cock, and he grinned when Chester let out a long moan, his head falling back against Mike's shoulder.

"I would beg to differ." He finished, his hips thrusting against Chester's ass, making his own prominent erection known.

Chester squeezed his eyes shut. He shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't, but god did it feel good. And, oh fuck, it felt even better when Mike spun him around and dropped to his knees in front of him.

Mike glanced up at Chester from his kneeling position, raising an eyebrow as if to ask for permission that he already knew would be granted. Chester just growled in response and gripped the top of Mike's spiked hair, dragging him closer to his crotch.

Mike snickered at the other man's eagerness, taking his time and making a show of tugging Chester's pants and moistened boxers down to his ankles, freeing his leaking cock once more. He wasted no time taking all of Chester into his mouth, deep throating him on the first try and enjoying the strangled cries of pleasure that escaped him.

Chester's eyes rolled back as Mike started a steady rhythm on his shaft. He felt himself going dizzy from ecstasy. Damn, Mike had quite the talented mouth...

He came back to his senses somewhat when he felt Mike's skilled fingers stroking the sensitive skin behind his balls, before trailing towards his entrance, placing soft rubs over the puckered hole. His eyes widened, a startled gasp pushing past his lips when he felt a digit slide inside him unexpectedly. He was about to protest to the strange sensation, but Mike made quick work of finding his prostate and flicking over it with his fingertip, causing Chester's words to die in his throat.

"Oh god..." Chester whimpered, "So fuckin good."

Mike took the cue to add another finger, pausing to lap up the beads of pre cum dripping from the head of Chester's engorged dick. His digits grazed his pleasure spot in motions just light enough to tease and torture Chester to no end.

"Mmm..." Mike moaned, his breath fanning the other man's cock and causing him to whine in disapproval at the persistent teasing. "Do you like it when I touch you like that?"

"Ah... Yes..." Chester's brain was struggling to form proper words at that point.

But Mike wasn't through with him yet. He let his hand replace his lips on Chester's shaft, jerking him from base to tip at a tantalizing pace, thumbing the sensitive slit on every upstroke.

"Do you want more?" The question was as simple as it was obvious, but Mike husked it out anyways, wanting to hear Chester's response.

Chester bit his lip and nodded his head with more vigor than he could ever remember displaying. He willed his mouth to catch up with the rest of his body, but it just wasn't happening. So instead he let out a low moan and thrust his hips towards Mike's busy hand, hoping the other male would get the message.

Mike stopped his ministrations on Chester's erection, his grip tightening around the hardened flesh and squeezing as firmly as he could without causing the other discomfort.

"Come on Chester, you're gonna have to do better than that." He mewled, smirking in satisfaction at the state of heavy arousal he'd beguiled the other man into.

Chester groaned at the halting of the delicious friction he'd been receiving from Mike moments before. Words, he silently pleaded with himself. Just form a few fucking coherent words. To his misfortune, all his mind insisted on churning out was a weak, almost inaudible,

"Urgh, please..."

"Come on," Mike coaxed him once more, not seeming the least bit in a hurry. He rammed his fingers up further inside Chester one time, hitting his spot dead on, before going back to bestowing soft caresses. "Tell me what you want, Chester..."

Chester almost missed Mike's last words, due to his hasty shrieks of ecstasy at the man currently finger fucking him. But the request caused him to stop and think for a minute. What did he want? It was a good question, yet something he hadn't even thought of at all until now. He'd been too busy living entirely in the present moment - oddly enough, a quality about himself that he'd missed ever since he and Sam began having problems.

Once he gave the matter a few seconds thought though, he knew exactly what he wanted. And, before he could think to stop himself, pouring from his lips in a shaky, aroused voice came the notion that had been on his mind (against his will, mind you) ever since the well chiseled male had entered the cozy bar and met Chester's eyes with his own piercing gaze.

"Oh ... f-fuck me."