Tats Santiago was a local street artist , known for smuggling things in and out of his artwork . A guy who grew up in the local orphanage and was quick with his line of defence . He wasn't really a bully but he wasn't exactly a nice guy , but no one was really a nice person at all when it came to the ghetto .
He was as known as any other street thug or gang , family or drug dealer that was important enough to stay clear of .
So when the man was stumbling into the run down little grocery store ian gallagar worked at - he definitely knew who he was
He was giggling like a crazy man , eyes a little gazed over with drugs and a gun strapped to his side , a knife strapped around his chest like a proper street thug instead of someone from the ghetto , he didn't look cheap either
Branded leather shoes , fitted black slacks that sculpted his legs and ass with a button up shirt that made Ian's eyes wonder
his clothes only added to his clean look , one which almost nobody had - if they did look clean , then they dressed like a hooker that walked up the fifth block looking for cash
Tate definitely didn't dress like a hooker , nor did he look like he needed any form of cash
Tate takes a couple deep breathes as he leans against the unstable isle that wobbles slightly when he falls against it clumsily
" hey , dude , your gonna topple over that isle if you lean against it ", Ian calls out cautiously, the man jumping slightly when he spoke , he looks over with widened eyes , blinking a little before he came over with a little skip in his step , leaning in closely when he got to the till
" hmm , freckles ", he mutters out half mindlessly as he leant forward and into Ian's space - the lanky red headed teen blinking at him in amusement as his lips tugged up a little bit
" yeah , I guess a have quite a few of those , I've been told ", Ian chuckles out lightly, finding himself staring at Tate - not being able to deny that Tate was pretty hot for someone who lived in the hood , to the point he didn't even look like he belonged with the rest of the slum
He looked whelthy , rich , he smelt of money and he was sculpted - something he most definitely worked for instead of running down the streets in the shitty neighbourhood and beefing up those who owed him
He probably did do these things - but it didn't stop the fact it wouldn't earn him those kind of muscles and he had definitely worked out to get them
" you're kinda cute , freckles ", Tate sighs , reaching out to grasp at Ian's chin , who pulls away , backing up a couple steps with his eyes narrowing
" don't touch me ", he mutters out firmly , but his voice is soft as he looked at Tate
" okay , freckles ", Tate giggles - he's giggling again as he twirled his fingers , brining them to his own face as he leant against the till
" hmm ", Tate hums as he stands up completely , rubbing at his chin as he looked at ian , his full hieght a head taller than the sixteen year old
" I'll be back for you , freckles ", he mutters out , a smirk coming into his lips after he spoke and he begins to back away towards the door " when I'm sober "
The bell rings when the door shut and Ian's left to be blinking in surprise and shock over what on earth had just happened
............
It was four days later when Ian saw Tate
He was leaning against a slick black polished car , cigarette at his lips as he waited outside the small grocery store , he smiles when he sees Ian coming out of the shop
