#striptreason

Mickey had just opened his own tattoo parlour recently, so his friends and colleagues decides to throw him a party at a club. A gay club. He wasn’t going to complain - no, he had no intention of doing that at all, but he didn’t know that they had planned for him to have his own personal stripper that night. Despite the protests from the 25 year old, he was locked up in a room, waiting awkwardly for God knows who to arrive.

“I’m, uh, new to this, alright?” Dmitri wrung his hands together in his lap. “I don’t usually pay for...” He shook his head. “I’m Dmitri...Dima. My-my friends call me Dima.” He hadn’t ever used an escort service, and was terrified at the idea. But loneliness was becoming more and more daunting. 

Needless to say, controlling a very hyperactive and social five year old was not the easiest task. “Carter, no, c’mon, hey,” Dalton tried his best to take long strides to catch up with his son, but the mop-haired brunette was already staring up at the stranger, giggling. “You’re gonna get yourself snatched, bud.” Dalton sighed as he finally caught up, scooping the wriggling child up just before he plowed into the stranger’s legs. “Sorry about him. He’s an escape artist.” he apologized to the younger male with a sympathetic smile, letting Carter down from his grasp, although still gripping tightly to his hand. 

It is one of those moments where Mickey wants to make sure that things are okay - that he isn’t stepping over any boundaries and that he’d be comfortable with it. The least that he wants is for the other to feel forced. The moment Elliot gives him the green light, he wastes no time in closing the gap between them and he presses their lips together in a sweet kiss. It’s slow at first and he almost pulls away but he doesn’t, and he feels his heart stopping during the brief moment.