casual affairs ||| ryden oneshots

girlfriends & rubber souls

He rushes over the guy but can't see his face, tapping him on the shoulder boredly as the guy picks up a record, setting it in the place that he found it, where it rightfully belongs, "Excuse me, sir? Do you need any help?" Ryan says in the most strained voice as possible, really not trying to lose any ounce of cool he had left. Today was just not his day, he supposed.

Record Guy, Ryan decides he'll call him, turns around, face flushed and pink, a look of embarrassment crossing his features. And oh - wow. Record Guy is not at all what Ryan was expecting to see.

Ryan was expecting to see a butt ugly bastard that he could easily go off on and then kick out, but no, today really must not be his fucking day, because when Record Guy looks at him, Ryan feels his insides turn to jelly. He has doe eyes, and a cute button nose. His hair is swooped off to the side and it looks relatively shiny and healthy, and Ryan wonders what the hell kind of shampoo he uses to make it that luscious. His lips are pouty and full, they look smooth and pink and Ryan's mind begins to come up with images of those lips that he shouldn't be thinking of right now.

"N - No, I think I'm okay, thanks." Record Guy finally speaks, and god, his voice is sultry and deep and it vaguely reminds Ryan of Frank Sinatra. It's so sexy. Ryan can't even believe how god awful this day was turning out to be. He could not be thinking of customers this way. Why couldn't anyone else do this right now?

"What?" Ryan snaps out of his trance, shaking his head a bit and blinking, hard.

"You asked me if I needed help," Record Guy replies, cleaning up the rest of the mess he had made, "I don't think there's any damage done, but if there is, I'd be happy to -"

"No, no, 's fine," Ryan murmured, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "it was a mistake. Things like this happen a lot. It's really okay." And Record Guy smiles. Fucking smiles and Ryan realizes there is nothing that isn't perfect about this boy, he has straight, porcelain teeth and his breath smells like mint and some sort of sweet, and it's driving Ryan crazy.

"I don't know if that should relieve me or not, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it should. Thanks for not getting all pissed at me," Record Guy says, tone upbeat and happy. For a second, he squints at Ryan's shirt and Ryan assumes he's about to get made fun of, but instead, Record Guy looks at him and hums, "Ryan, huh?" He muses, "I'm Brendon. Nice to meet you."

So, Record Guy has a name. And it's fucking hot. It suits him so well that Ryan can't even imagine him having a different name. It's perfect. Record Guy - Brendon, he's perfect. Ryan is so fucked.

He wonders how in the hell Brendon managed to figure his name out and gets a little worried for a second, but realizes that he's wearing a name tag on his shirt, mentally smacks himself on the forehead, and then smiles back at Brendon. It's more of a grimace, because Ryan really never smiles, but it's a start.

"Nice to meet you too, Brendon," He responds and looks over at the section Brendon was browsing before his slip-up, and he's not disappointed. His eyebrows raise in the slightest way possible at the genre, which is old psychedelic rock, for example, The Beatles. Ryan is fucking obsessed with The Beatles. He has been, ever since he was little, and his mom would play their songs while she cooked, over and over until the music was drilled into Ryan's brain. And here he was, thinking there was no way possible for Brendon to be even more flawless. He was proven so wrong. He hummed, interest lacing his voice, "you're into The Beatles?"

"Of course," Brendon replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "who isn't into The Beatles?"

Well, fuck.

Ryan nods in agreement and bites his lip, "What's your favorite album?"

Brendon thinks for a minute and scrunches his face up, and you'd think that would be at least a little bit unattractive, but no, it's fucking hot and Ryan is seriously so, so fucked, "Probably Rubber Soul. Shit's so rad," He answers, "what about you?"