Mickey padded quietly on the plush carpet back to his bedroom. It was still early morning, the sun was shining dimly through his curtains.
He could hear the quiet noise of the city slowly waking up outside. Mickey never could shake the routine of getting up early in the mornings.
He blamed it on a certain redhead who shall remain nameless.
Mickey sat on the edge of his king size bed and smiled at his still sleeping lover. Lover, being a relative term. He didn't quite know what to call him. Sure they fucked- a lot.
He stayed at Mickey's house more than his own. They were business partners as well. Mickey might even go so far as to say he cared about him. But relationship? Boyfriend? No fucking way.
Not after getting his heart destroyed the last time.
So many things had changed since that soulless ginger walked out of his life. Seven years seemed to have flown by. In that time Mickey managed to own his own home and had cars in his garage.
He had money in the bank. His street cred had dramatically changed as well. He was no longer known for running scams and picking fights.
He was known for taking over the Southside's real estate market.
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