Disclaimer: This is a story of fiction, and never happened, I do not know, or own the people included in this story, it is written for entertainment purposes only, and I gain no profit from writing such things.

Magazines, Perms and Proper Dates

It's Monday, and I haven't seen Brendon since Friday, when I went round his house. I hadn't expected to go to his apartment for our date, but it was fun, I enjoyed myself. He even said himself that wasn't meant to be the date, but the time just…flew.

I'm not on tills today, which sucks; instead I have to put away the stupid books. In the pregnancy section as well, I pick up a book and read its title, 'The best positions to conceive in,' well that's straight forward.

I open the book and flick through the pages, god curiosity is a bitch! I hear someone cough behind me, and I fall over from my kneeling position from the scare as I scramble to close the book, I fall onto the cart behind me and smack my back. I eventually end up lying on the floor, I close my eyes with a groan as the dull thud clicks in and my back begins to ache.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry; I really didn't mean to scare you like that." I look up and see Brendon standing over me, trying to help me sit up. He looks worried as he pulls my arms gently, easing me into a sitting position. "I'm so, so sorry Ryan. Are you- were you looking at pregnancy books?" His voices changes as he picks up the book I'd been flicking through, I watch as his face contorts. "Ew Ryan! Who are you trying to get pregnant? Cause just so you know, I can't get pregnant." And I'm thankful he turned this into a joke, he's smirking as he stands up and pulls me up with his free hand.

"I-" but he cuts me off before I even manage to stutter anything out.

"I know, curiosity's a bitch," he says furrowing his eyebrows and then smiling, I smile back and look down at my hand that he's still holding. He flushes and let's go of my hand with an apology.

"No it's okay, I don't mind," I say he looks at me and I smile, he smiles back and I really want to kiss this beautiful boy in front of me. I lean forward and he smiles leaning forward and tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Ryan!" Brendon flinches, and I roll my eyes, pulling away with a sigh I look up just in time to see my boss strolling around the bookcase. "I need you on the till, Joe is absolutely hopeless." He looks at Brendon and looks him up and down, and then turns and walks away.

"Anyway, I've got to do the tills, maybe we could…meet up when I finish?" I ask hopeful he'll say yes.

"Yea, I'd really like that; do you want me to meet you here?" He asks, smiling brightly.

"If you want, I finish at four," I inform him, he nods and places the book in his hands into the cart with the others, and then walks with me to the tills.

"I'll see you at five to," says as he walks away backwards, looking at me, I nod.

"Okay, just look where you're goi-" I close my eyes as he knocks the book stand over and catches himself before he falls.

"I'm okay," he says, I open my eyes and I see Joe's mass of curly dark hair kneeling next to him as he picks up the books, I laugh to myself and start to serve the customers in front of me.

Five to four ticks round, and I'm not watching the clock, merely checking the time. I walk into the backroom of the shop with a sigh, and grab my coat and bag, when I return; Brendon's standing on the other side of the counter, he does that half circle wave I've now dubbed as 'Brendon's wave', I know imaginative or what?

"You ready?" He asks, I nod, and then put my hand up signaling 'one minute.' Then I walk off to tell my boss I'm leaving now, he says bye, and then I walk over and stand next to Brendon.

"Let's go then, wherever we're going," I say with a smile as we walk towards the door to the shop.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go to starbucks?" He says as the door closes behind us, I nod and we walk in the direction of said shop.

"What you gonna get?" He asks me; as we stand in front of the drinks menu inside starbucks.

"Errm, I might get a caramel macchiato." I say as I ponder on what size to get. "You?"

"I think I'll get an ice tea," he replies walking up to the counter and ordering. "What size do you want?" He asks, leaning back slightly to look at me, I walk up to stand next to him.

"I'll pay, I don't mind," I say but he just puts his hand in the air in dismissal and leans forward to talk to the cashier. I hear him say large and I sigh, those things cost a lot.

"At least let me pay half," I reason, he then turns to me.

"No it's okay, seriously, you can go find us a table if you want?" He asks, I nod and walk off to find a two seater table by the window. I look around at the few other customers in there, and I start to puff my cheeks out in boredom. I check my watch as I sit there, and then I ruffle my hair, messing it up.

Brendon walks over carrying a tray; he puts my mug down, and then his cup, and then walks back over to the counter to deposit the tray. When he returns he smiles at me.

"Do you think I could get away with the 'wind swept' look?" I ask as I ruffle my hair more, Brendon laughs and nods.

"Definitely, do you think I could?" He says as he messes up his own hair, but it just kind of sticks up.

"You've got product in that, haven't you?" He nods, "yea, it's just kind of sticking up." I say with a laugh.

"Damn, I knew I shouldn't of put that mousse in my hair." He says looking down in thought.

"Mousse?" I question after taking a sip of my drink, god that tastes so nice.

"Yep," he nods in affirmation. "I was wondering if it would curl, but it didn't." he confirms, and I wonder how he thought his hair would curl, it's just too short.

"It's a bit short to curl Brendon, maybe if you get a perm…" and I stop there when his eyes widen and he looks at me smiling like an idiot.

"A perm? Do you think I should get a perm?" He asks sitting up straighter in his chair.

"No, you might end up looking like Napoleon Dynamite, no one needs that." I say with a giggle, he nods and then smiles laughing also.

"So, what you doing this week?" I ask him, as I fiddle with the handle on my mug.

"Not much, why?" He asks as he sips at his ice tea.

"Well, we haven't really been on a proper date, so I was wondering if maybe y'know you wanted to." I mumble, staring intently at my cup.

"Yea, I'd like that." He says moving his hand so it's resting on top of mine, stilling the actions of my fiddling; I look up and smile at him.

"Cool, I thought maybe we could go to a restaurant or something…" I trail off, as a blush creeps onto my cheeks.

"Yea, a restaurant sounds good, so tomorrow?" He asks eagerly.

"Alright, what time?" What is this? Twenty questions?

"Seven? I could come to your place, then we could go from there?" He says as I let go of the mug, and we just hold hands, then I nod.

"Alright, tomorrow seven, you know where I live?" I ask, I really don't want to mess this up by not telling him the vital things.

"Vaguely, just tell me what floor, and apartment number."

"Five, sixty-seven," he smiles and we finish our drinks talking about our plans for the week.

By the time Tuesday comes, I'm fidgeting and really hormonal, I haven't been like this since Friday, hell since I was sixteen. Being with Brendon just seems to make me a less irrational person, but now I'm snapping at people, and Joe is doing my head in.

"Ryan, I need you to restock the magazine shelf." My boss says, and god I don't even know his name, he's just my boss.

"Hmm," I reply as I walk over to the cart containing the boxes with the magazines. I walk to the magazine section of the shop, and start to undo the boxes.

--

The third person trips over me for that day, and god I'm not a happy bunny. They should really look where they're going, I'm not that small, it's not like you can't see me.

After filling up the magazine rack, I take the boxes out the back of the shop, then I inspect my hands in the natural light. I look at my fingers, and they've got a lot of scrapes of them, this is why I don't usually deal with the stupid magazines.

I walk into the shop scowling, at my hands, as I count how many cuts are on each of my hands, three on my left hand, five on my right hand. They're like paper cuts, but not itchy, it was the cardboard that caused them.

Today seems to be dragging, after re-entering the shop, I ask my boss what I have to do next, and thankfully he puts me on tills. So now I'm reading, but I can't seem to concentrate. The words are just fuzzy masses as I squint to see them, dropping the book onto the counter I sigh and rub my temples, I'm so bored.

I spend the rest of my shift, helping and serving customers, and talking to Joe. He's not that interesting, but his hair is quite amusing, you pull it and it springs back into place, I reckon Brendon saw Joe's hair and that's why he tried to curl it.

I serve one last customer before my shift finishes, then I grab my bag and coat and run back to my apartment.

Back in my apartment I shower, the warm water beating down on my skin relaxing me in seconds. I wash my hair, and then step out of the shower, turning the faucet off. I ring the excess water out of my hair, then grab a towel to wrap around my waist.

After towel drying my hair, I walk into my bedroom to choose what I'm going to wear. This may take a while. I grab my watch off the bedside cabinet, and squint at the clock face, 6:25. I hope that's enough time.

After putting on my boxers, I walk to my closet, and open the door. I stare at all of my clothes, deciding and depicting on what to wear, sometimes I hate fashion.

After about 10 minutes of deciding, I settle on pin stripe pants, and a cream button up shirt, I then put my socks on and pull out a pair of black loafers.

I then grab my staighteners, and flick them on; I grab my watch while the staighteners warm up, and do up the clasp around my right wrist. Then check the time, 6:40.

I grab my hair dryer, since I haven't got much time, and then blow dry my hair, causing it to go fluffy, great. Glancing at my watch again, I notice it's nearly 6:50.

I quickly straighten my hair, and then grab a stick of black eyeliner, lining my eyes lightly, I don't need panda eyes. The door bell goes, and I fidget on my way there, looking in the mirror by the door, and then nodding slightly as I know this is probably the best it's going to get.

Then I open the door, and Brendon's standing there, he smiles and does the 'Brendon's wave.'

"Hey," I say as I move over so he can enter, which he does with a smile.

"Hey, nice place," he says as he looks around, his hands planted firmly in the tight jeans his wearing, along with a grey hoodie and red striped top underneath.

"Thanks, I'll be right back, you can sit, stand, whatever." I say as I walk in the direction of the bedroom backwards, and point to the sofa and then shrug. He laughs slightly, and then I go and try to straighten my hair a little better.

After gassing myself out with hairspray- which tastes disgusting when you breathe it in- I walk back to Brendon.

"So shall we go?" I say, watching as Brendon stands up and walks over to me, while I put my jacket on.

"Yea, might as well," he grabs my hand and then pulls me out of the apartment, only just giving me enough time to lock the door.

We walk down the street holding hands, although it's a little cold out, and I've got my free hand in my pocket, he then puts his hand in his pocket, taking my hand with it. A smile etches onto my face, as his thumb strokes over mine, as we walk along.

We eventually reach a restaurant, and we're led to a booth by the back, which I'm thankful for, I hate being in the middle.

I reluctantly pull my hand from Brendon's grasp as we take seats opposite each other, both of us looking around, and reading the menu, but our gazes always seem to meet, which causes us to smile and look away.

We order our food and drinks, and I find out Brendon's a vegetarian, which I think is cool. Our drinks come soon after we've ordered them, we've both ordered coke, and I can't help but gaze at Brendon's lips as he drinks. Remembering the feeling when we first kissed in the elevator, the tingling sensation that it left on my lips, the passion and lust that burst through.

I snap out of my gaze when I see Brendon's lips turn into a smirk, and god I'm in love with that smirk.

"I was watching supernatural the other day," he says brightly, as he leans his elbows on the table top, I almost, almost smirk and ask him if he has manners, but I decide to listen to his tantalizing voice instead.

"Do you watch it," I nod. "Good, well did you see the Ground Hog episode?" I frown slightly as I think about whether I've seen it or not.

"Doesn't ring any bells, carry on anyway." I want to hear your voice, wait, is that wrong?

"Right, well, Dean kept dying, and Sam kept reliving that day. He died so many different ways, a piano fell on his head, he choked on a sausage, he got his throat ripped out by a dog, he ate a poisoned taco, he fell over in the shower, he got shot, got run over. He died so many different ways it was excellent, really funny, 'cause he wasn't actually dead, if he actually died then that just wouldn't be funny. But then Sam was like 'Trickster stop it!' and the trickster was like 'Fine, since it got boring after the first couple of hundred times,' so it was the next day, and he died." Then he took a sip from his drink.

"What? For good?"

"Yep, well no he was dead for six months, and Sam was like majorly depressed about the loss of his brother. But he's alive now, so all is good, I love that programme so much." I smiled as he sipped his drink again; I have never been this confused before.

"Cool," I say as I nod.

"It was, imagine that though, someone you love, just dying like constantly. I'd hate that so much, it would be me seeing you die again, and again and again." I smirk.

"You love me?" He looks up eyes wide, as he starts to blush.

"I- no I didn't mean it like that, I meant, erm well I care about you." He managed to spit out, as he looked down

"I care about you too," he looks up and smiles, and the blush then starts to fade; he looks cute when he blushes.

After the meal we make our way back to my apartment, except this time we're not holding hands, and I miss the contact, his contact.

When we get to my apartment block, I press the code into the small pad, by the door to open it. And then I hold it open for Brendon, he thanks me and walks in and then waits for me. We stand side by side in front of the elevator, and I lean forward slightly to hit the call button.

"Fuck!" I gasp as I maybe, just maybe jam my thumb too hard into the call button, and I end up hurting myself. I see Brendon flinch in my peripheral vision, then the door to the elevator opens, and I step in before he has a chance to say anything, he follows me in.

"What happened?" He asks once the doors are closed, and I've carefully pressed the floor number button with my index finger.

"Jammed my thumb into the button," I reply as I inspect my thumb, and there's a drop of blood on it, god knows how I cut my thumb on a button, but I did.

"Let me look," he says as he grabs my wrist and gently pulls my hand over so he can see my thumb. "You need a tissue," he states as he lets go of my wrist and then digs around in the pockets of his jeans, he pulls out a packet of tissue and grabs one before shoving the packet back in his pocket and grabbing my wrist again.

"Brendon, what are you doing?" I ask as he wraps the tissue around my thumb, and then holds it in place.

"Stopping the bleeding," he replies simply as he looks at me. I laugh slightly, and he smiles. Then the elevator stops, and the doors open, and I see someone I know standing there.

"Ry!" Spencer calls as he steps into the elevator. He looks at my position, my left arm across my chest and Brendon holding onto it, why'd he stand on my right side? It'd be so much easier if he was on my left. Spencer than hugs me one armed, and I pat his back, its' all very awkward cause no one knows where to put their selves, and Brendon won't let go of my wrist.

"Hey Spence," I reply as he pulls back and smiles at me. "I guess that health regime went out the window." I say chuckling as he nods.

"I nearly died on those stairs, and if that happened, you'd have no friends." He says still smiling.

"I've got other friends," I defend, but there's a smile on my face all the while.

"Yea, who?" Spencer continues mockingly.

"Brendon," I say as gesture to him with my head, since I'm in a tricky state.

"Hi Brendon," Spencer says, directing his attention away from me. "How much is Ryan paying you to pretend to be his friend?" He asks smirking.

"Ignore him, he's suffering withdrawal symptoms." Brendon looks at me and nods.

"From what?" Spencer questions, he looks very intrigued.

"From me," and I laugh, I laugh a lot, Brendon let's go of my wrist as I double over. When I've calmed down and I stand up straight, they're both just staring at me.

"Anyway, I'm Spencer," Spencer says breaking through the silence, and holding his hand out for Brendon to shake, which he does.

The elevator then pings, and the doors open at my floor, so I grab Brendon's arm and pull him out of the elevator. "Come see me sometime Spence, we haven't spoken in a while."

"Will do, nice meeting you Brendon." He replies as the doors start to close.

"You too," Brendon replies, and then we both say goodbye as the door finally closes.

"He seems nice," Brendon says as we walk towards my door, I nod in agreement, taking the tissue off my thumb and checking my thumb for any damage. Then I pull my keys from my pocket and stop at my door, and unlock it.

I motion for Brendon to walk in, and he does, I follow him and close the door, then I offer to take his jacket.

"Ooo very gentlemanly," he chuckles as I put our jackets by the door.

"I'm just gonna go get changed, make yourself comfortable," he nods and I walk off to the bedroom, where I change into pajama pants, tee shirt and an old hoodie.

I walk back out and sit next to Brendon on the couch, though the room is eerily quiet, all you can hear is the faint sound of the pipes under the floorboards.

"You know earlier when I said I cared for you?" Brendon asks looking at his lap, I nod and then turn to sit cross legged on the couch, facing him. I then make a noise in the back of my throat of affirmation since he's not looking at me.

"Well, I do like you, and if you don't like me back, then that's fine. If the whole elevator thing was just a kiss to you, then please say. I don't really know if you do stuff like that a lot, I don't, but I'm not saying that you-" and before I can stop myself I'm leaning forwards and lifting his chin up with my index finger and thumb, and then I'm kissing him, square on the lips.

I close my eyes, and then I feel the couch moving. I open my eyes and pull away to see Brendon, leaning up on his knees, craning his neck to kiss me. He smiles and looks at me.

So I lean up on my knees as well, and lean in to kiss him again, his hands move to my hips to keep our balance, mine move to his shoulders. Our chests are pretty much flush together; I can feel his heart beating, as I push my chest right against his. His tongue drags across my bottom lip, and I open my mouth, our tongues clashing, and touching and feeling. It feels like the first time we've ever kissed. It's even better than in the elevator because there's care, there's a future in this.

We both pull apart panting and both with a smile plastered across our faces.

"Ryan," I look into Brendon's eyes and nod, so he'll continue. "Will you be my boyfriend?" He asks, and I beam.

"Yes," I reply, and then I crash our lips together again. I think he understands now, that I don't just kiss anyone.

Fin!