Blue Eyes (bxb)

Thirteen

Finn and I caught the bus into town that afternoon. It was packed full of people, so we had to stand. Finley kept stumbling over whenever we stopped, to the point where I had to put my arms around his waist to stop him falling onto some old sweaty guy beside us.

I held him close to my body, his heat radiating through my jumper. It was weird, it felt almost as if he belonged in my arms, like he belonged to me. I was tempted to nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck, but that would be inappropriate, especially with all these people around. They'll just think I'm some weird-ass faggot, which I'm not. I can't help who I get hard over anyway. Wait... what?

God, no, this is not happening. Not now. Not with all these people watching. I glanced down at my growing 'problem'. It was so obvious it made me cringe. Fuck, had Finn noticed? Probably not. Hopefully not. Okay, deep breaths. I re-positioned myself so that my crotch was turned away from Finn, and then I took of my school jumper and tied it around my waist. That ought to hide it. Let's just pray that Finn didn't catch on to why I let him go all of a sudden.

The bus came to a hault by our stop outside the shopping centre. I directed Finley off and inside the towering buliding that was bleeding with people. Casually, I took ahold of his hand, not fully noticing what I was doing until Finley coughed awkwardly beside me. "What?" I smirked. "Does this make you uncomfortable?" A furious blush arose on his thin cheeks. It was adorable.

"No," he scoffed. "You're the straight one here. It should be you that feels uncomfortable."

"Yet I'm the one who initiated it," I chuckled. "It's okay, Finn. Just hold my hand." I whispered the last part rather close to his ear. I'm pretty sure he fluttered his eyes closed as I did so, though I'm not sure with those sunglasses of his.

"Freak," he grumbled once I backed off.

"Wank stain," I retorted.

"Cum shot."

"Dog shit."

"Man whore."

"Dick."

"Is what I like," Finley cackled.

"Oh, God," I sighed, smiling.

"It's true, though," he chuffed.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, you're gay!" I laughed, exasperatedly. I heard him mutter something incoherent, but I chose to ignore it. It was probably just one of his petty insults anyway. "So, where are we going first?"

"SHOPPING, BIATCH!" He announced, throwing his arms in the air.

"Okay, which shop, mi amigo?"

"Errrmm.... how 'bouts Urban Outfitters 'coz I'm basic as fuck?"

"Alrighty then, let's go." I tugged on his hand slightly, which was still interlocked with mine, and wandered off in the direction of the desired shop.

The store was filled to the brim with busy shoppers and whiny teenagers (Finn included). "I swear to God, this season's trends are absolute shit!" He whaled for about the fifteenth time.

"How do you know?" I scoffed.

"Well, that shirt is made out of fucking linen, for starters," he began. "And that skirt is leather, I mean, leather does NOT gather around a waist!"

"Geez, dude, I didn't realise you were such a fashion critic. I wouldn't have taken you shopping if I'd known."

"Oh, fuck off. I'm just saying the clothing in here is going to shit. Like, what happened to all the decent vintage stuff they had a little while back? Or am I the only one with any fashion sense in here?"