By: stubliminalmessaging
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"Did you really have to wear those pants?" Ian asked, eyes firmly glued to Mickey's backside in the black jeans he'd worn for their little errand.
"Can you watch the fuckin' street like you're supposed to, please?" Mickey snapped, looking over his shoulder at his redheaded idiot boyfriend as the picked the lock on the back alley door of the jewellers'. It wasn't a great fancy shop but it was something. It was less lucrative than Mickey was used to, but Ian was new to the game. Tonight was his first score aside from the handful of B & Es they'd done in the past few weeks.
"Hard to watch anything but that ass," Ian mused, hovering by the back door while Mickey went into the shop and started filling the backpack he'd brought. One thing about shitty little stores in the South Side – the security was always at the bare minimum.
"Ay – head in the game, Gallagher. Don't need no one calling the cops on us 'cause you're too busy tripping on your slack jaw droolin' over my ass," Mickey groused. He cleaned out the big ticket items quickly and once he was satisfied with his haul he ducked back out the back door.
"Alright, that's it. Let's roll," Mickey said, closing the back door of the shop behind him and swinging his bag onto his back.
Ian trailed after Mickey, taking Mickey's hand and pushing him playfully against the wall. Mickey pushed at him and Ian followed him as he marched out onto the street.
"Can we find somewhere to fuck?" Ian asked, giddy. He pawed at Mickey again, over his shoulder and down his side to his ass. "I've gotta have you in this get-up, with the gloves on and the stealth gear and those fucking jeans."
"Hands off till we get home you fucking weirdo," Mickey growled, pulling away from Ian again. He rolled his eyes. "Only you would think this is fucking hot."
"It's just exciting, you know?" Ian babbled. They climbed the stairs up to the platform to the El station and waited. Ian lit their smoke and Mickey hogged it, eyeing his beaming man out of the corner of his eye.
"Christ, you're fucking jittery, it's driving me nuts," Mickey sighed, finishing off the smoke and tossing the butt. "Let's find a public shitter and you can get on me."
"And they say romance is dead," Ian laughed, though he took Mickey's hand anyways. They went back down the stairs and onto the street and tracked down a twenty-four-hour diner and ordered the cheeseburger specials before they took to the men's washroom.
"Dinner and diamonds," Ian sighed when he pressed Mickey against the bathroom door. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mickey's mouth. "Best date night ever."
"Yeah, yeah," Mickey said, hands up in Ian's flaming red hair and tugged him down into a long languid kiss. He clutched at Ian's shoulders, and ground their hips together. When they parted, he panted; "C'mon, fuck me."
"Wouldn't be date night if I didn't," Ian assured him. He worked at Mickey's jeans and sucked on his lip.
"Yeah, fuckin' date night," Mickey groaned when Ian got a hand in his boxers.
