By: stubliminalmessaging
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"You have to put that back," the cute redheaded librarian told Mickey. He scowled.
"No. I'm taking it out."
"You can't," he insisted. His nametag said 'Ian' and Mickey thought a stupid name for a stupid guy. "You have three books overdue and a movie. You have to bring at least one back before you can take anything else out."
"What the fuck?" Mickey grumbled, leaning on the check-out counter. "I don't have three fuckin' books out and I've never borrowed a movie from here before."
The librarian took a second to consult the computer. "Three Danielle Steele books and one of our DVD copies of How To Train Your Dragon 2."
Mickey sputtered when the librarian just looked up at him. "Fuckin' romance novels and a kid's movie? You think I borrowed those?"
"I don't judge," he said, turning his face down and hiding his smile. Mickey saw it of course and tried to crush the fluttering feeling in his gut. "Anyways, you can't take anything new out until you bring those books and the movie back. Library policy."
"Can't exactly bring that shit back if I never took them out," Mickey insisted. He paused as if he'd been hit by an idea and cursed, fumbling to get out his phone and violently type out a text. "My fuckin' sister borrowed the books and my fuckin' wife took the movie out for my kid."
"Your wife?" the librarian asked, raising his eyebrows. Mickey thought he might have seen something like sadness – disappointment, maybe? – in his expression.
"Yeah, she's always going through my wallet, sniffin' around for cash," he scowled. "Fuckin' evil bitch."
"Your sister or your wife?"
"Both, apparently," Mickey growled. He steamed for another moment before he huffed out a very-teenagerly sigh and slammed down the giant brick of a fantasy novel on the desk Ian was sitting at before he turned and stomped to the exit.
No sooner had he grabbed the door handle to wrench it open and storm out he heard the cute redhead call after him. "Wait!"
He turned and glared at the kid. He went on. "Come back here."
Mickey didn't really have anywhere else to be and he kind of really liked looking at him so he let go of the door and skulked back over to the desk. He scowled and Nametag-Says-Ian just grinned at him. It pissed him off as much as it turned him on.
"Gonna make a deal with you," the ginger stud said, lowering his voice even though they were almost done in the library. He got his wallet out of his back pocket and slid his library card out of its slot. Mickey found himself distracted by Ian's long fingers and shivered at the thought of them caressing him. He needed to dial back the gay and get out of this library ASAP.
"This is a fuckin' library, not a drug ring, for Christ's sake," Mickey mumbled.
"You want the book or not?" Ian asked. "I'll let you take it out on my card, but you have to return it or renew it before it's due and you have to bring back the others your wife and sister took out."
"You got a deal, red," Mickey said, taking the book Ian scanned out for him and shoving it in his bag.
"Your name's Mickey, right?" Ian asked. Mickey was thankful for the excuse to hang around and talk to Ian. Mickey nodded, watching Ian carefully. "I'm Ian. Do you watch the show?" he asked, nodding towards his bag and the book he'd just checked out.
"Uh – yeah. It kicks ass," he admitted sheepishly. "I started watching it with my sister and she lost interest when that Drogo guy died but I kept watching."
"Oh, so Drogo was your sister's favourite?" Ian asked, amused. "Who's yours?"
"The Hound," Mickey replied. "He's a badass. And the dragon chick. She doesn't take shit from anyone, and it's really fuckin' cool that she freed all those slaves and shit."
"Is your wife alright with you watching it?" Ian asked. Mickey cocked his eyebrows. "With all the sex scenes and the naked girls and stuff?"
Mickey snorted. "Nah, man. It's not the chicks she had to worry about."
Ian stared at Mickey in surprise and when Mickey bit his lip and fidgeted with his nails, a slow smile grew over Ian's face.
"Yeah, I'm more of a fan of characters like Loras and Renly," Ian said, sly and flirty.
"Ditto," Mickey said, staring at the counter. The pair was quiet and just this side of awkward. Ian ducked under the counter for just a second during which Mickey got on his toes to admire the width of Ian's shoulders and the slope of his back. He found himself cursing the incredible shoulder-to-waist ratio the ginger sported. Stupid nacho-cheese Dorito.
Mickey didn't even bother to hide the fact that he'd been checking Ian out when he sat back up. He slid a card across the countertop – a bookmark, upon further inspection and Mickey picked it up.
"So you don't lose your place," Ian said, then added. "Remember: two weeks."
"Yep. See you then?" Mickey asked as he turned to leave.
"Hopefully before then," Ian said and Mickey puzzled over that until he cracked open his book on the El on the way home and read until his stop came. Then he took out the bookmark to mark his place and caught sight of the note scribbled on it for the first time. The note said let's get in touch with our inner loras and renly sometime underneath which Ian had scribbled his name and number.
