candy ; petekey

06 ; CUTIE PIE

"Afternoon," Mikey said as Bandit pulled him into the candy store, her little hand clasped firmly around three of his fingers.

Patrick looked up from the magazine he was reading and grinned. "Hey." Cupping one hand around his mouth like a megaphone, he called, "Pete! Your boyfriend's here!"

Pete immediately appeared behind the counter. "I don't have a— Oh, hi Mikey." He propped an elbow on the counter and leaned forwards. "You brought the kiddo!"

"Hi." Mikey flashed a smile, trying not overthink that Pete had denied having a boyfriend. It had just been one date so far. That didn't mean he didn't like Mikey.

"Bandit, honey." Mikey looked over at his niece. "Say hi to Pete."

Bandit waved shyly before returning her attention to the saltwater taffy.

Patrick glanced at his fellow clerk, who was already making eyes at Mikey. "So, Mikey," he said, leaning his elbows on the counter. He jerked his chin in the direction of Bandit. "Is that cutie pie your kid?"

"My brother's. I'm just babysitting." Mikey grinned fondly at his niece. "The first time I went here was actually to entertain her. So, I guess I wouldn't have met Pete if not for her." His grin widened. "Oh, you too, Patrick."

"Aw, that's so sweet," Patrick deadpanned as he looked over at Pete, who was clearly over the moon. "I'm gonna go... count... candy canes. Yes. I'm going to go count candy canes." With that, he retreated to the back room.

Mikey felt a tug on his sleeve. Bandit was pointing a finger up at a bag of black liquorice.

"Someone's got good taste." Mikey could nearly hear the shit-eating grin in Pete's voice.

Mikey swiped the bag off the shelf, jokingly glaring at the clerk. "She's still young; her taste buds aren't fully developed yet."

"Well, her underdeveloped taste buds are better than yours," remarked Pete, chuckling. "I don't see your problem with liquorice. It's delicious."

Mikey handed the bag to Bandit, who clutched it excitedly, then shoved it back at him and ran off to look at something else. "Listen, I like to say that everyone has their own opinion and I respect that, but it is a fact, not an opinion, that liquorice is disgusting."

"Why do we sell so much then?" Pete's eyebrows rose.

"I didn't realise so many people had broken taste buds. What a tragedy."

"I don't have broken taste buds!" exclaimed Pete. "You can check for yourself!"

The two of them fell silent at that.

"That sounded... suggestive."

"It-- What? No! Wait," stammered Pete, "I meant—" He sighed. "Just kill me now."

Bandit bumped Mikey's leg. "Can I have ice cream?" she whispered.

"Sure, hon. Pick a flavour." The blonde nudged his niece encouragingly, then smiled sardonically at Pete. "You really are no good with words, are you?"

"You don't need to rub it in," huffed the clerk.

"Maybe not. But I want to."

"You as—" The clerk eyed Bandit nervously. "Jerk. You jerk."

"Whatever you say." Grinning, Mikey put the bag of liquorice and his credit card on the counter. "Just that and the ice cream."

"The card?" Looking Mikey dead in the eye, Pete asked, "The card and the ice cream?"

"I hate you."

Pete scanned the bag with a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. "Love you too, babe."