To say that Mick enjoyed fire would be like saying that stoners enjoyed weed. There was just something about watching fiery destruction that got his blood pumping and more often than not it left him with a hard on.
Now, Mick and Len were sitting in a 50's diner. The air was thick with the scent of grease.
Speaking of grease, Mick was face deep into a big, sloppy burger. The mixture ketchup and meat would have made him groan if his mouth hadn't been full of said meat.
Across the fake wood and metal table, Len was drawing the plans for their latest heist on napkins. As his hand moved over the paper, Mick just watched. He had stopped trying to figure out Len's plans long ago, but he still liked to watch.
Len put his pen down and grabbed a fry off of Mick's plate and swirled it around in ketchup before popping it into his mouth. There was a drop of ketchup on the corner of his mouth and Mick had to stop himself from reaching over and wiping it off. Touching Len could only lead to more touching which was bad while they were in public.
'Anything else, sweetie,' their waitress said when she came up to their table.
Len grinned at her. 'No thanks.'
She left their bill and Len grinned even bigger when he read it.
'What you grinning about?' Mick asked as he finished his fries.
'She wrote on the check at she gets off in an hour. I think she's sweet on me.'
Mick furrowed his brow. 'What's that mean?'
'She wants sex with me.'
Mick grimaced. He should have been used to women (and some men) hitting on Len, but he wasn't. Even though they had been together for a long, long time he couldn't shake the feeling that one day Len might take someone up on their offer.
Just the thought of Len finding someone else sucked and not just because Len was his partner in crime, emphasis on the crime.
Len threw a few five dollar bills on the table and they made their way outside.
The change from the warm diner to the cold outside made Mick shiver. Len stopped under a streetlight and and lifted his face to the sky as snowflakes fell onto his skin. In the yellow light of the lamp, it looked like gold was falling from the sky.
Mick just watched as Len enjoyed himself. Mick knew he would do the same thing if fire fell from the sky.
Len lowered his face and moved next to Mick. Their hands brushed and Mick's breath caught.
'Let's go home,' Len said. They started to walk and snow crunched under their boots.
That was a great idea. He couldn't wait to peel Len out of his parka (and other clothes) and have all of Len's bare skin in front of him.
He might be addicted to fire, but he was also addicted to Len.