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?"
"Finn, mate, you're blind," I giggled.
"Seriously, you're input isn't necessary in a crisis like this," he tutted.
"You did ask me a question, though."
"It was rhetorical, Zakary, an answer wasn't crutial," he huffed.
"Okay, okay, I get it. You're pissed at the clothing here. Why don't we just go to another store?" I asked.
"HOW DARE YOU??!!" He gasped dramatically. "I'll have you know that Urban Outfitters is the best store on the highstreet! The clothes here are about ten times better than anywhere else!"
"Soooo, you're not gonna by anything then?"
"Excuse me, but I never shop without buying. What colour is that tank top?" He questioned, pointing over at a garment hanging beside us.
"White, so what?"
"So, I'm going to buy it."
"I thought you said the clothes here are shit?" I said.
"Just, be quiet and go pay for it. Here's the money." He handed me a twenty pound note, before wandering over to another area of the shop. What a dick, expecting to slave around after him! I should just leave him here. It'll teach the arse a bit of respect. But then, he'll be so pissed and probably never speak to me again.
While I stood in the middle of the shop with my jaw slack with shock, I hadn't noticed a girl my age approach me. She was wearing emloyee uniform, with red lipstick neatly painted around her small lips. "Hi, can I help you?" The girl smiled, toothily.
"Oh, erm, I just wanna pay for this." I glanced her up and down, noting her curvy figure and rather large breasts. She was so attractive, but I just wasn't attracted to her. I'm such a freak, seriously. Someone like Brendon or Jacob or Matt or Sam would jump at a girl like her. Why do I have to be gay? Why do I have to be the odd one?
"Ah, right. Well, I can sort that for you." The girl led me over to the counter to pay for the shirt. She scanned the barcode and I handed over the money. "Ya' know, I think you'll look cute in this."
"Really?" I chuffed. "Thanks, but it's not for me."
"Aw, shame. Though, you look cute anyway," she purred.
"Haha, cheers," I blushed.
"Anytime. What's your name, handsome?"
"Zakary. Yours?"
"Annabell. I haven't seen you in here before. I'm pretty sure I would remember a face like yours." Can a hole just open up in the ground beneath me and swallow me whole? This lass needs a serious slap, instead of chasing after guys who probably won't remember her name when morning comes.
"Yeah, I've never been in here before. I got dragged in b-" I was interrupted by a dramatic shriek.
"ZAK, BABY, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO?!" Finley shouted, wrapping his arms around me.
"Wha-" He elbowed me harshly in the rib to stop me talking.
"Didn't you think to tell your boyfriend where you'd gotten off to?"
"Boyf-" another blow to the rib. Ow, there was definitely going to be a mark there tomorrow.
"Yes, now, let's go. Before you get into any more bother," he tutted, yanking me by the wrist and out the store.
"What the hell, Finn?" I barked once outside.
"You're welcome," he smirked.
"Errr, what for?"
"I totally just saved your arse from being hit on by a slag. You should be thanking me."
"Maybe I liked it," I shrugged.
"Oh, please, you're so lame. You have a girlfriend."
"Well, maybe I don't want a girlfriend," I snooted. I need to get a filter over my speech. I'm such an idiot. He's going to figure it all out now. I'll be ruined. Oh, no, he's going to tell the whole school. Crap.
"Perhaps a boyfriend?" He sounded timid as he spoke, almost as if he didn't want me to snap, like he didn't want to upset me. Aw, looks like the bitch has got feelings after all.
I didn't want to lash out at him, so I fought away any anger bubbling inside of me and spoke softly. "No, I don't think so." I was almost suprised at how relaxed that sounded.
"You sure? 'Coz being gay's a blast, not gonna lie," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I'm sure," I laughed airily.
"Okay, then. Is it ice cream time, yet?" He squealed.
"Sure, let's go."
We sat in a booth by the window of the ice cream parlour. Finn had a cone of raspberry ripple, whereas I had chocolate. "I haven't had ice cream in forever," he moaned in between licks, savouring the flavour.
"Me neither," I said.
"My dad used to take me to get ice cream a lot when I was a kid. Not so much now."
"How come?"
"I dunno, really. I guess ever since my sister was born he's wanted to share his attention between us. But, don't get me wrong, he's the greatest dad ever. I just miss going for trips out with him," he explained.
"Well, at least your dad pays attention to you. My dad wouldn't even notice if I keeled over and died right in front of him," I grunted.
"Don't say that. I'm sure he cares about you a lot."
"Eh, I don't know. I love him, but it seems as if the feelings not mutual."
"Well, I'm here for you. If you need any manly advice, you know who to talk to," he smiled.
"Finn, mate, my dead goldfish is probably more manly than you," I chuckled.
"Ssh, let's just pretend I'm a man for five minutes."
"I'm counting down the seconds," I laughed.
"Whatever," he scowled. "How did we even go from ice cream to my level of manliness in less than three minutes?"
"I have no idea, but I'm not complaining," I smiled fondly. I hadn't noticed myself leaning oddly close to Finn, who was sat opposite me. I wasn't about to kiss him, I was just admiring him. His plump and rosy lips, his faint freckles dotting across the bridge of his nose, his cute little button nose that I just wanted to bop with the end of my finger. Finley's hot breath tickled my bottom lip, and for one moment I was at a loss with myself. It was as if everything else didn't matter, as if no one else existed. Because I had this beautiful man sat in front of me, within a kissable distance, who could more-or-less be considered a friend. A friend that I felt wasn't going to hate me for who I am. A friend who would never give up on me, no matter how many times I screw up.
Although I barely know Finley, I feel like we were meant to meet at that restaurant. As if he was meant to insult me, so we'd only grow closer. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of glad he's such a sarcastic twat, because otherwise our paths may never have crossed.
And that scared me.
Song: 'Sugar, we're goin down' - Fall Out Boy
A/N: If anyone knows what this song is about, take a wild guess at why I put it in😏《I'll give you a clue, it's about how Finn feels》
Goodbye, for now, lovelies <333