Work Text:
Carl was hovering and it was getting on Mickey's nerves. He didn't like people lurking around when he was counting his money. "What the fuck do you want?"
The boy sat down across from Mickey. "I need money."
"We all need money," Mickey pulled the stacks of tens and twenties he was counting closer to him. "What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I could work for you," Carl suggested. "Run drugs or something."
"What are you twelve?" Mickey scoffed.
"Fourteen," Carl corrected. "And I can sell in the high school."
It wasn't actually a bad plan. Mickey didn't sell drugs much these days—most of his income came from the rub and tug—but having a kid with an in at the high school could be profitable. The only problem was that the kid was Ian's little brother. "No way. Ian would kill me if I had you running drugs."
"You scared of him?" Carl asked half curiosity and half challenge.
"Fuck yeah I am," Mickey answered. "Scared of never getting laid again." Carl made a disgusted face and Mickey laughed. "Find another job kid. Scam some old ladies or something, but leave me out of it."