#spobin

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Spoole blinks and wrings his hands. It takes a few moments of Joel alternating the raising of his eyebrows at him before Spoole sticks out a finger, pointing at a bank five minutes from their apartment.

“This one.”

Joel smiles at him. “You got it, babe. Have you seen my gun?”

–

An hour later, he and Spoole are running out of the bank with a backpack full of gold bars.

As they run down side streets and ditch their masks, they let out breathless, giddy laughter. It’s the most impromptu heist they’ve done yet. Spoole didn’t even tell the rest of the crew, he told Joel, only Joel. It’s a fact that sticks in his brain.

They blend into the mid-afternoon crowd that murmurs about the smoke in the distance. The crowd around them stares up at the dark clouds while Joel only stares at Spoole, who looks ecstatic, practically buzzing in his own skin.

Joel feels a rush of affection course down his spine. His hand finds Spoole’s and Spoole smiles at him when their fingers lace together and Joel can’t help himself.

The gold feels heavy on his back as he pulls Spoole into an alley, away from the crowd and kisses him, hard. The rush of affection surges when Joel hears Spoole give a happy noise at their kiss and gives himself in to Joel’s bruising press of their lips.

When they pull away with kiss-swollen lips, they hear police sirens sound down the crowded street again. Joel finds Spoole’s hand again, gripping it tight.