#that magazine art of him smiling and tucking his hair behind his ear all innocently goes perfectly here

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Izana saying this to everyone who dares question him

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office - New Experiences

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Four: Get to Know You

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n had found herself stuck in a scenario she’d never thought she’d ever have to face: she’d been catching feelings for a coworker. While she attempted to adapt to her new job and work load, she also had to get used to these new feelings and figure out what the fuck to do with them. George made her want to take risks, she didn’t care about the potentiality of a broken heart with him, because falling in love with him made it seem worth it. Is George falling for Y/n too? Will he be able to reciprocate her feelings?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! Since you guys seemed to like the text messages between Y/n and George, I decided to include a chunk of them, since there weren’t any in the last part.

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some making out, thigh riding and dry humping. Yes, y’all read that correctly. 

George hadn’t spoken to me since the incident in his office. I figured it was because he’d been occupied with his friend, but when Saturday rolled around, he’d make up for all of the missed time between us.

Bree had informed me that she was going out with a group of our friends from college, which she’d invited me to, but I assured her that I was feeling ill and didn’t feel like leaving the house. I felt bad for lying, but I needed to see George. I missed him awfully; I missed the way his bare skin felt flush against mine, I missed seeing his smile and hearing his laughter, like music to my ears. I missed the feeling of his locks in my fingers, feeling his breath tickle my neck.

I couldn’t take it anymore; I messaged him immediately.

9:13 pm, Me: Apartment to myself... You busy?

Buzz.

9:14 pm, George: Nope. On my way.

I smirked to myself, hugging my phone to my chest before ripping my clothes off of me and replacing my casual undergarments with my best lace panties and matching black balconette bra. The thin lace and underwear revealed my nipples sexily enough through the unpadded, thin fabric of the bra. I grinned proudly at the lingerie before slipping into jeans that made my bum look extra good and a sexy tank top with lace trimming. Was it too much? Maybe. Did I care at this point? Nope.

I didn’t care to put shoes on, plopping on my stomach onto my bed, waiting for him to message me that he’d arrived. I was shocked when I heard a knock on my door, causing me to get up and open it with furrowed eyebrows. It swung open, revealing my favorite man standing with his hands in his pockets. I tilted my head.

“You remembered where my apartment was?” I asked him, putting my hands on his hips.

He nodded, leaning down to peck my forehead before entering. I blushed at his simple act of affection, shutting the door behind us and following him inside. I clapped my hands together, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I suggested.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

I led him to the sofa, sitting myself down as he took a seat next to me. I grabbed the remote controller, opening Netflix and scrolling through the movies. I laughed out loud as a movie I’d watched the previous night with Bree popped up.

“What?” he asked, his lips curling in a smile at my sudden laughter.

“Bree and I watched this movie last night, and it’s really funny,” I explained to him, trying to fight back the giggles that threatened to escape as my brain replayed the funny scenes in my head.

“Well, put it on,” he ordered, gesturing his hand to the television. “Let’s see if it’s as funny as you claim.” He winked.

I pressed on the movie, slouching back into the sofa as it started. I wondered if I should’ve cuddled up next to him, or if that’d be too much. I kept my posture, keeping to myself as the opening credits rolled onto the screen. 

As the movie began, I found my mind wandering immediately. My fingers began drumming onto the fabric of the couch, as I found myself staring at the screen, but my mind remained occupied with other thoughts. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I began to ponder George and I’s relationship again. I had just found out his birthday, and it made me uncomfortable that he’d explored so much of my body, yet I felt like I barely knew him. 

“You alright?”

I turned my head to him. He looked concerned, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixated on me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I pulled my legs up, crossing them as I slouched, trying to make myself more comfortable.

I returned my eyes back to the television, trying to concentrate on the film until my eyes scanned the room in thought, as my lip was pulled in between my teeth again.

I wondered what his favorite movie was, what kind of movies he’d liked. I didn’t like that I didn’t have the answers to these basic personality questions. I pondered what his childhood was like, if he’d met Dean in the United Kingdom before prior to moving to America. 

“You’re doing it again.”

I whipped my head toward him and cocked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You chew on your lip and stare off with your eyebrows furrowed,” he observed, moving closer to me. His blue eyes bore into mine as I guiltily stared back at him. He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, his eyes not leaving mine. “What’s wrong, love?”

I sighed, removing my eyes from our eye contact as my head lowered in thought. His fingers went to my chin, gently lifting it to meet his eyes again.

“I want you to be able to be honest with me, Y/n,” he admitted, his thumb running over my chin. 

“I want to know more about you,” I confessed, my eyes worriedly staring back at his. “I feel like I barely know you.”

He smiled softly, bringing his hand up to my cheek, caressing my face. His hand trailed down my arm, down to my hand before bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand softly before holding it in his own, lacing our fingers together. 

“I was born in London,” he began, his eyes never leaving mine. “March thirteenth, nineteen ninety-two. As I’ve mentioned before, my father’s Australian and my mum’s British, but they chose to raise me in the UK, obviously. I have a sister named Daisy, who lives in London with my parents. I try to visit them during the holidays, but it’s not as easy with work. Sometimes, Dean and I will fly down together to visit both of our families.

“I moved to the states after graduating from Uni when I was about twenty-four years old; my parents weren’t super keen on me leaving to a whole new country by myself, but they wanted me to be happy. Dean and I didn’t meet until my first job after moving to New York. We hit it off so well, that we ended up moving in together, and not long after that, we met Andrew at the same job and invited him to move into our flat. About a year or so after, Dean and I decided to apply to Essence, because we felt that we needed a career change. 

“Andrew ended up being promoted at our old job, so he wanted to stay there, plus, he’s happy working there whereas we weren't, really. Once we started working there, I decided to get my own flat; the pay at Essence was much better, I was almost entirely done paying off my student loans, and I felt that I was in need of a different atmosphere. Hearing your roommates play video games constantly, and being the only one who could cook in the house was not something I particularly looked forward to,” he laughed as he recollected the memories from the past. 

“But, long story short, one day I’d been looking for Dean and I saw that there was a new girl, sitting across from his desk in a chair that I’d never seen occupied before. The way you talked to me, you were so nervous and innocent; After seeing you on multiple accounts, in the cafeteria, at your desk whenever I’d come to talk to Dean, I started thinking about you a lot more,” he admitted, his thumb tracing along my knuckles. 

I noticed his cheeks tint scarlet and he wet his lips with his tongue, still maintaining eye contact with me. 

“Like, I would go to the cafeteria and hope that I'd see you? I hope that doesn’t sound creepy,” he laughed a little. “And, when you told me how you felt at the bar, I was baffled.”

My eyes widened, as I tried to recollect the nonexistent memories of being at the bar that night. My eyebrows furrowed and I could feel my cheeks heat, wondering what the absolute fuck I said to him.

“What did I say to you at the bar?” I queried, chewing on the insides of my cheek anxiously. 

He bit his lip, staring back at me for a moment, as if he was pondering how to tell me. He finally parted his lips, as he recalled our conversation at the bar that night.

Dean got up from his seat, leaving George and I to ourselves. I grabbed my glass and downed the rest of the vodka soda in the glass, slamming the empty glass down on the bar and turning my body to face him.

“Hi George,” I smiled, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, my elbow resting on the table.

He turned to me, his lips curling into a smile.

“Hi, Y/n.”

I giggled, smiling blissfully at the beautiful man next to me.

“George,” I began, batting my eyelashes as I looked up at him. “You’re so great.”

His eyebrows knitted together, an entertained smile evident on his lips as he looked down at me.

“And why is that?” He took a swig from his beer bottle as I began my slurring.

“Becaaauuuse, you’re a fucking art director, which is, like, crazy,” my bloodshot eyes bore into his bright, piercing blue ones. “And you’re, like, crazy handsome.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, smirking as my eyelids hung heavy, my eyes barely visible as I smiled. My face was red, as my cheeks had always heated up when I was drunk.

“You think so, love?”

I nodded, attempting to take a swig out of my glass as the empty cup poured nothingness into my mouth, reminding me that I’d finished off the drink minutes ago.

“You’re obliterated,” he observed.

“Want to know a secret?” I asked him in a sing-song voice. “I smoked weed before I got here, because my roommate told me it’d make me less anxious,” I whispered, giggling between words.

He raised his eyebrows, his jaw dropping before he started laughing.

“Jesus, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so reckless,” he gasped.

“Well, I didn’t waaannnnt to do it, but if I hadn’t done it, I’d probably be standing in the corner, too nervous to talk to you,” I admitted.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why would you be nervous to talk to me?”

I gave out a big sigh.

“You’re sooooo hot,” I moaned. “I kind of want to fuck you, but I don’t want to lose my job,” I admitted, licking my vodka-tasting lips before continuing. “And also, I got, like, cheated on big time in my last relationship and it left me with some crazy trust issues and self esteem issues. And, I haven’t had sex since then! It’s been two years, George, can you believe that?!”

My eyes blinked a few times as I stared at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded. My eyebrows were raised and my jaw struggled to keep closed. 

“W-was this before or after I threw up?” I asked, trying to compose myself as I felt my face heating up.

“Literally right before you threw up,” he answered with a small laugh. 

I withdrew my hand from his, using my index finger and thumb to pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. 

“I can’t believe I said that shit,” I groaned, leaning back into the couch. “I can’t believe you didn’t just laugh in my face, God, that’s so embarrassing!”

He watched me with amusement, an entertained smirk making its way onto his lips. I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head in disappointment. 

“Well,” he began, playful eyes staring at me. “If you think about it this way, love, if you’d never said anything, then we’d both probably still be too nervous to talk to each other.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

“Do you think we’d still end up, you know...” I trailed off, referring to whatever label we shared.

He paused for a moment, he eyes drifting in thought before nodding. 

“I think that you were made for me, love,” he admitted, his voice softer than before. He moved his hand onto my thigh, rubbing it gently. “I’ve never been so easily infatuated and comfortable with someone before you, Y/n.”

I wanted to cry, his words painted my heart with the love and desire I had failed to receive in my previous relationship. I blushed, blushing at not only his words, but his touch. The feeling of his hand on my thigh was anything but a soothing rub to me at that point, and my brain had addressed his touch far more quickly than it should have. My eyes dropped down to his hand, watching as it caressed me, just far enough from my heat. The contact sent me into overdrive, as my eyes moved back up to his face, scanning his plump lips.

I moved myself over to him, slowly leaning in until our lips brushed softly. My hands went to his shoulders, gently massaging them as I kissed him softly. His hand moved from my thigh and to my back, his other hand joining as he pulled me closer to him, our lips beginning to move at a steady rhythm. I moved on top of him, knees on each side of his legs as I settled into his lap, our lips still connected. He brought his hands down to my ass, squeezing my bum. I moaned, and he used my parted lips as access for his tongue. Our tongues danced together as his hands snaked back up to my back. 

As I straddled him, I slowly rolled my hips against his lap, needing the friction against my heat. I could feel the tent in his pants against my core, making me moan against his lips. His hands moved back down to my hips, guiding my movements as I rolled my hips against him again. He groaned, lifting his hips for more friction. My lips parted from his as I moaned again, tugging my shirt off of my body, revealing my bra to him. His eyes widened at my exposed nipples through the thin lace fabric, his hands subconsciously raising to cup my breasts. The pads of his thumbs ran over the raised buds, making me let out a blissful sigh at the intimate contact. His fingers ran around my torso, to unclip the bra. He gave me a look, wanting permission first. I nodded, looking down at his dark, blue eyes before his fingers effortlessly worked their way with the clasp, removing the bra from my body. 

He immediately attached his lips to one of my nipples, lapping at the bud and gently nibbling on it, as I tilted my head back in euphoria. 

“Can we, fuck, take this to my bedroom?” I breathed, looking down at him.

His mouth released from my nipple with a pop, as he picked me up and walked me to my bedroom. He settled me down onto my bed, not bothering to close the door as he settled himself in between my legs. The tent in his jeans rubbed against my core as he ground his hips into mine, his lips returning to my own. 

We were lost in each other, voicing soft moans into each other’s mouths while our hips moved together, too lost that we didn’t hear the front door open. 

“Y/n! I have some soup for y–HOLY SHIT!”

George peeled off of me, my hands immediately coming to cover my exposed breasts. 

I heard the sounds of her shoes against the floor as she scurried away, shutting my bedroom door. 

“I’m sorry!” she called from the living room, as George looked at me with an amused smirk.

I threw one of my throw pillows at him with a roll of my eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” I groaned, biting back a smile of my own.

He tossed the pillow onto the floor, moving himself back on top of me.

“Make me,” he whispered, attaching his lips onto mine. 

I let our lips move together in a steady rhythm, before I pulled away, concluding our kiss with a peck on his lips.

“My bra and top are just sitting on the floor where my roommate’s probably trying to eat right now,” I groaned, embarrassed. 

As if on cue, the door opened as we heard the sound of something dropping at the entrance of my room, before the door closed again. I sat up, noticing that she had returned my missing pieces of clothing to me as they sat neatly in front of the door. I got up, arm slung over my breasts before pulling the shirt onto my torso, not bothering wearing the bra. I tossed the bra into my underwear drawer, before returning back to the bed. I watched as the man on my bed hungrily looked at my chest, not caring whether I noticed or not.

“You’re teasing me,” he moaned, his voice husky with lust. He sat with his legs criss-cross, watching me as I mimicked his seated position.

I could feel my hardened nipples against the fabric, teasing him with my now-covered breasts. 

I got on my knees and hands, prowling towards him. Smirking, I nudged my nose against his own, watching as his eyes watched me in awe.

“What are you going to do about it?” I chided with a whisper.

Without a warning, he captured my lips with his own, hands going to the back of my head to pull me closer to him. Our tongues danced together as we feverishly kissed, wanting needing the contact with each other. His lips moved to kiss the corner of my mouth, before moving down my jaw. 

“What do you want to do, love?” he asked between kisses as his lips began sucking on a spot on my neck. 

My eyes rolled back at the sensation, as I tried to control myself to answer his question. 

“I-I don’t want to, fuck, George, d-don’t want to have sex yet,” I admitted between moans as his teeth nipped at the spot, igniting more and more pleasure. 

His mouth left my neck for a moment before finding another spot on my neck, sucking sweetly at the skin just like before. 

“You want to ride my thigh, angel? Want to get yourself off on me while I watch?” he growled against my neck.

My cheeks flushed at his dirty words, but I could feel the pool of wetness growing in my panties. 

“Yes, George,” I pleaded. He pulled his lips away from me as I peeled my shirt off and went to unbutton my pants. 

He replaced his fingers with my own, fumbling with the button and zipper much more slowly, thickening the tension and teasing me. I helped him peel the fabric off of my skin, standing up from the bed and tossing them without thinking. I was left in my lacy black panties, stalking over to him nervously whilst he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. I met my lips with his in attempt to calm my nerves, my fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He pulled away to quickly peel his shirt off of him, making his locks look more disheveled in the sexiest way possible. 

He propped my legs up so that my knees were on either side of his left thigh, our chests flush against each other. His hands went to my hips as I lowered myself onto his thigh carefully, before slowly rolling myself against him. I sighed at the contact of my clothed clit against him, feeling him flex underneath my core. One of his hands went to my knee, pushing it closer to the tent in his pants. As I rolled myself against him again, I made sure to rub friction from my knee against his boner. His lips captured mine in a sloppy kiss, as I started to gradually pick up my pace. His hands went back to my hips, guiding my movements as I humped his leg. 

I felt the pleasure building inside of me, as I quickened my pace, desperate for my release. Our lips pulled away from each other, as I leant my forehead against his own, not able to concentrate on kissing anymore. My breath quickened and I moved my fingers to his hair, chasing my release. 

“Cum for me, angel,” he ordered, his voice soft, but raspy with lust.

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth, due to his dirty words and the way this new nickname, angel, rolled off of his tongue. I hit my climax, as I continued to rub my pussy against his leg, riding out my high. As my breathing slowed, I attached my lips back to his, pushing him back onto the bed. He scooted himself up, allowing us to lay whilst our lips danced together. He rolled himself on top of me, as my legs immediately found their way around his waist. My fingers wandered down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and fumbling with the zipper while my feet helped me peel the fabric off of his legs.

I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I could feel another ache between my legs and I was desperate for another relief. He kicked off his shoes, leaving him in his boxers as the tent between his legs became much more present. He attached his lips back to mine before surprising me, grounding his hips into mine as I felt his clothed cock against my clothed core. My jaw went slack as another moan left my lips, my sensitive heat dripping from the sensation. He rolled his hips against mine again, pressing as much into me as he could. My legs pulled him into me, needing as much friction as possible.

He began picking up the pace, his face digging into the crook of my neck as his clothed dick humped my pussy. I felt his hot breath against my neck, motivating me to move my hips against him.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moaned into my hair. “You gonna make me cum in my briefs, angel?”

With that, I released for my second time, my body stilling underneath him as the pleasure waved over me. I could feel him twitch against my heat, feeling small spurts make wet spots through his underwear. I rode my high against him, as my breathing slowly returned to its normal pace. He rolled onto his back, lying beside me as his chest rose up and down. I turned my head to face him, as I watched him do the same. He leant his head up, looking down at the wet spot displayed through his underwear. He chuckled softly.

“You made my cum in my bloody underwear, Y/n.”

[talltales]

            —MINIMIZING WINDOWS, PICTURES LIT BY ELECTRIC LIGHTS             FICTION/FACT BOUNDARIES COLLIDE, FIND ME IN MY PALM SO BRIGHT                                                            anonymous request!!

“i didn’t know if i could sit through another hour—“

a flash of icy light from the corner catches her eye; draws her ear to the echoing of giggles bouncing off the walls over a mechanical click. she presses a button, watches the volume bar rise higher and higher—to the very limit of what her little phone is capable of.

rewind. the noise disappears, hidden under layers of tinny acoustics. canned laugher and sardonic dialogue.

“i didn’t know if i could sit through another hour of this guy explaining his industrial revolution theory again, so i booked it while he was in the bathroom.” sunyoung, the free-spirited painter—a stereotypical hippie—puts her hand on her hip and shakes her head, “changmin—remember that name so i never accept a date offer from him again.”

“not my job,” says her roommate from her perch on the couch, thumbing through the pages of a fashion magazine.

someone starts singing happy birthday loudly. she tilts her headphones a little higher; presses them closer to her ears.

rewind.

“not my job,” says her roommate from her perch on the couch, thumbing through the pages of a fashion magazine. her hair is pinned into some ridiculously intricate hairstyle for a day at home. her heels click against the floor, “you don’t shop for clothes online. why would you shop for men?”

another flash.

this time, she doesn’t look away from the drama playing out on her screen; reaching instead for the half-empty glass of water resting on the edge of the table. quietly, she drains the remainder and bites into the last ice cube lingering at the bottom.

this episode of ‘친구들’ is brought to you by—

a passing figure bumps the chair her feet rest on, tipping the chair onto it’s side. without a look back, he disappears into the crowd gathered around the ‘dance floor’—a space designated by a faded chalk square cut into the center of the large room. with a frown, she pushes her phone into her pocket and steps around the chair after righting it.

the noise, without the shelter of her tv show, is a roaring cacophony of camera clicks and cheers; videos and pictures being recorded for posts that’ll be forgotten in a week. still, it doesn’t stop the teens from chronicling every moment—rehearsing postures and scripts; hitting record, then stop.

recording again.

it might as well be a movie set, for all of the carefully planned productions that take place in the room.

the only unmoving bodies in the space stand at the perimeter, engrossed in their phones—faces lit in blue light as they take sips from their drinks. the nearly florescent beverages sit tucked into the nooks of the bookshelves that line the walls. maybe there’s some benefit to building a nightclub in the basement of a bookstore, even if she can’t see it.

the clashing of neon lights and velvet armchairs is odd. the ornate desks lined up to form a makeshift bar is jarring.

behind it, the bartender works quickly and silently, only casting the occasional glance upward as he mixes drink after drink after drink. he moves in the same way that a pianist might; by memory more than cognition, producing duplicates of pretty sugar-topped things backlit in neon yellows and pinks.

she thinks of a sunset, and it—unlike the smell of cheap body spray mixed in with old books—isn’t such a terrible fit.

when he does address one of the girls leaning on the counter, phone held above her in an unmistakable sort of way, his words seem to get lost in the vast, empty space between her ears. biting back a sigh, she weaves her way through the mass of bodies and forces the words out in a single breath, “what are those drinks you’re making?”

she pretends not to notice the way his eyes light up; pleased, she supposes, by her innocent inquiry.

“house special,” he answers, with a barely detectable accent that teases her curiosity. she finds herself tugged by it, as if by a string tied around her little finger.

she doesn’t ask, at least not about that.

“and what’s in it?” as she waits for his answer, she rests her elbows on the edge of the desk and studies the old scratches littering the surface. there are a fair share of new ones, though not many.

“i could tell you,” absently, he pours a clear liquid into a shaker. a couple cherries follow it, then a lemon slice. intrigued, she meets his expectant gaze.

“or i could make you one, and you can guess.”

reluctantly, she nods and watches as he slips again into that effortless series of movements. there’s an element of grace that he brings to the art of bartending. she wonders what brought him here of all places. the question, again, rests on the tip of her tongue.

again, she asks another.

“what’s your name?” her fingers curl around the drink when he sets it before her, taking in the swirl of pinks and oranges that she’s never quite seen before. at least not in this particular way.

“just call me bam,” there is the faintest hint of humor in his answer, and she assumes he is enjoying some private joke, “now, i have a question for you. what brought you here? you seemed pretty comfortable in your corner.”

he nods to the abandoned table, couched between an oddly placed loveseat and a dining chair. she busies herself with taking her first sip; catching condensation on her fingertips as she toys with the cherry resting on her tongue.

“i was bored,” she answers after a moment, chancing a look at the man—caught momentarily in the way his silvery hair catches the light and glows a dazzling shade of gold, “and i was wondering what was in this.”

again, he looks amused when she holds up the glass and inspects it from the bottom.

“so? what do you think?”

“cherries and lemons, obviously.”

“obviously,” he—bam, she reminds herself—echoes, with a smile on his lips that holds her attention for a second too long. behind her, another camera flash bathes the room in white light, and she watches it dance across his jawline—flare in his too-bright eyes.

it occurs to her, as his small smile grows full; into something that makes her head swim a little, that maybe the drink is a little stronger than she’s used to.

“so?”

she is drawn back by his gentle prompting and the soft tapping of his finger against the back of her hand. right. the drink.

“cherries and lemons, a little salt?” when he nods, she smiles faintly against the lip of the glass and takes another sip, “vanilla rum?”

his hand doesn’t move away from hers.

she attributes the way her focus strays to the contact again to the emptiness of the glass resting against her forearm. she allows her hand—eager thing—to turn beneath his touch, palm up.

“what’s your name?” he questions at last, in a tone that is as much invitation as it is inquiry.

and she decides to do something a little different then; play the game that bam has started. when he stretches his hand to cover hers, drawing his fingertips across the delicate skin of her wrist, she returns the gesture and watches him pause—

only for a moment, but it’s enough.

what a lovely drink, she muses when she sets the glass down, all too aware of the way her pulse skips beneath his fingers, “tell me what’s in the drink and i’ll tell you my name.”

“cherries and lemons. salt.” bam leans forward then, lowering his voice to something conspiratorial—as if the vapid souls behind them would be paying enough attention to even notice or care, “vanilla bean syrup.”

again, he looks so so amused. his lips part, and her eyes follow the movement. her head swims.

“it’s non-alcoholic.”

[toxykmystic]

Day 1 @takaritsuweek

High School- First Date

Just what the hell was he doing, walking down the street with his underclassman practically skipping down the sidewalk slightly ahead of him. Excitement radiated off the boy after they’d left the PandaWay and started off toward the bookstore. He didn’t get it, not at all. Why was Oda so happy over all of this? He’d already told the boy that he’d seen him by chance, looking like an idiot and terrified out of his mind standing outside the sandwich shop with that stupid blush on his cheeks that annoyed him to no end. They’d even talked about the new magazine that was coming out and the kid should have known that Saga was on his way to get it too, wasn’t he supposed to be his stalker, he was doing a poor job of it if he didn’t know his routine. Why the hell did he look so happy and surprised at him following at a languid pace with his hand stuffed in his pocket and his book bag slung carelessly over his shoulder and held in place by his other hand.

And he wouldn’t shut up! Sempai this and Sempai that, showing far too much enthusiasm in comparison to his own bored facade. Zoning out his incessant chatter, he turned his attention to a passing girl that was giggling softly over the excitable Ritsu in front of him and then blushed fiercely at the scowl that was earned from the upperclassman behind the puppy like boy.  Masamune had to wonder at the flare of feeling that had erupted in his chest when he’d seen the girl checking out his kouhai, what should he care? Again, none of this made sense to the boy that had no experience with having someone paying so much attention to him. The silly guy would blabber on, completely missing that a cute girl had been checking him out, skipping ahead a few feet and then he’d look over his shoulder at him with a smile and actually wait for him before he’d bound off down the road again. He just didn’t get Oda at all, but when the boy tripped and stumbled along before catching himself instead of doing the faceplant the elder thought for sure he was about the witness, he couldn’t help but have a soft smile curved his lips as the other looked back at him with a bashful blush and a self depreciating giggle. What a clutz, he should be paying more attention to where he was going instead of checking up on him all the time, well stalkers do what a stalker does.

“I hope they haven’t sold out!” Ritsu worried in that innocent tone when he looked back at Saga-Sempai, worrying his lower lip between his teeth and willing his racing heart to calm down before it bounded out of his throat.

Masamune lifted and dropped a single shoulder in a shrug, as if the whole thing didn’t matter to him when in truth he was concerned about it as well. His cool facade never slipping save for the smile he didn’t even realise the other had coaxed from him. “Well I’m not gonna run down the street like an idiot.” he spoke in his disillusioned monotone. That only brought a brighter blush to the younger boy’s cheeks as he hunched his shoulders and slowed down for him again, casting him a side eye as his kouhai mumbled lowly for only his ears.

“I’m probably embarrassing you, sorry Sempai.”

And then his face lit up nearly blinding him with that stupid smile of his that made his insides twist all funny. Nearly cringing from the angelic aura that seemed to surround the boy. Just what planet dropped this weird boy off on Earth!?

“I’m just soooo excited for Usami-Sensei’s latest installment! It’s so amazing that he’s our age and has so much talent!” he added in an afterthought because of what his beloved Sempai had said, “even if his stories are weird!” but oh so interesting to him!

Didn’t this kid have an off switch? Damn, his glow was overpowering, making the elder squint and then avert his gaze or lose his vision indefinitely. Trying to ignore the giddity feeling that was infecting him due to the younger boy’s antics. Nodding his head toward the front window display of the bookstore, “Looks like there’s no need to worry.” and then the kid squealed, actually girly squealed and raced ahead and into the store where some of the magazines they wanted were on display out front.

By the time he came cruising in at his on sedate pace, the boy was already racing back to him with two magazines in his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet, holding out one of the copies towards him excitedly.

“There were only two left, the rest are display! Lucky huh Sempai?!” his voice in a hushed ‘We’re in a sacred place now’ tone. Green eyes gleaming like jewels towards the mysterious amber of his ‘boyfriend’ He still couldn’t quite believe it and thought for sure that he’d wake up from this fantastic dream any second. No matter how badly he wanted to stay in this fantasy realm where his sempai spent time with him and actually talked to him. Even though it was in a bored fashion it was more than the youth could have ever hoped for and filled his tender heart near to bursting.

The guy was seriously gonna faint if he didn’t calm down, watching him wander back up to the shelves of books for sale, looking for any new releases, Masamune sauntered up to join him. Gleaning over the titles, he found another magazine that had the second installment of an author that he liked, “Tch, I missed the first installment of this one.” he picked up the magazine anyway and started to sift through the others, wondering if maybe an older copy was tucked behind.

Ritsu made a soft excited gasp and whispered fervently, “Oh, that one is sooo good! I’m sure I still have the first installment at home.” his face lit up as he came up with a brilliant idea, “If you can’t find it Sempai, I’ll let you borrow my copy.” though with his poor organizational skills it may take him a while to find it, but he didn’t mention that to Saga-Sempai.

Another bored shrug was given, he didn’t take the guy seriously of course, but he still wanted to read what of the story that he could. Even if he didn’t read the first part he should be able to piece it all together as long as he kept up on the rest of them. “Alright, I’m done.” glancing at the boy in passing as he was looking through a rack of bookmarks.

“I’m coming!” he called softly to the other’s receding back as Ritsu picked a pale blue bookmark decorated with a sakura branch in full bloom with a quote from one of his favorite passages from Sumi-sensei’s best-selling novel. Scurrying after the upperclassman and asking in a low tone, “I’m gonna go to the park across the street to read before going home, w..would you like to read this next part together Sempai?” he looked at Saga with all the hope in his young heart clear in his sparkling jade eyes.

Masamune paid for his magazines and looked back at his kouhai with an arched brow. While he didn’t want to go home just yet, it was boring with just the cat there and he definitely didn’t want to run into his parents again and listen to them screaming at one another while trying to read, “Sure, why not…” he replied in that same monotone. Of course, the boy blinded him with the most breathtaking smile yet that made Masamune wonder seriously if he’d just made a huge mistake for his own eyesight, the kid really needed calm down or he’d never be able to keep up...not that he wanted to or anything, of course.

They left the bookstore and crossed the street to the nearly empty park, finding a bit of nature hidden away within the city. Swirls of sakura petals flew on the wind and ruffled both heads of hair as they looked around for a place to sit. Ritsu pointed shyly to a bench under a sakura tree that sat near a gurgling fountain that displayed a pair of swans in an artful display.  Neck arching gracefully as they passed one another, looking towards the other until their bills touched and formed a cliche heart. “I usually sit there sempai, is that fine with you?” Ritsu looked up to him with huge jewel toned eyes, sparkling in the afternoon light and gave the spring grass a run for its money.

Saga merely shrugged, taking off his jacket and draping it over his arm and walking ahead of Ritsu to look up at the blooming pink petals. Not taking notice of the young teen behind him, staring at him in awe. It was honestly the most breathtaking thing that Ritsu had ever seen. His beloved sempai, deep in contemplation against the backdrop of a sakura tree in full bloom. Stunned to silence as the breeze fluttered a legion of petals across Ritsu’s vision and picked up the tempo of his heart. His cheeks were burning so hot he was certain he’d burst into flames as his sempai turned to look at him and lift a corner of his mouth in a rare smile. Ritsu was sure he just died and went to Nirvana.

“Yeah, this works.” Masamune spoke in that subdued tone, turning to go and sit down because the younger teen looked like he was about to burst into tears for some reason and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that. Sitting on the bench and digging out his newest purchase he flipped it open and started to read. Enjoying the peace and quiet of the afternoon. Soon enough the quiet was broken as his kouhai asked a question.

“Um, sempai. They’re selling shaved ice over there. I’m going to get myself one, would you like to have one too?” he stuttered out nervously as it worried the edge of the paper bag that held his own magazine and bookmark. When Saga gave a soft nod of his head with a mutter of ‘lemon’ Ritsu took off to the cart to get his beloved a treat. He was on a date, this was a date. He was on a date with his sempai and he was floating around on cloud nine, “Two ices, one lemon and one melon please!” he clutched his package to his chest and beamed up at the vendor that couldn’t help but smile back at the adorable boy. Two large cups with over flowing shaved ice and flavoring with tiny wedges of the fruit it was flavored with added for garnish, Ritsu paid for it happily and scurried back to where his sempai was sitting in silence and enjoying the story. “Here you go Saga-sempai!” he held out the treat with a huge smile.

Lifting his tawny gaze from the story that he had already been fully engrossed in, he regarded the smiling guy and the lemon ice he held out to him in offering, “thanks.” He took the treat then returned his attention back down to the story. Hearing the soft creak of the bench as Oda sat down on the other side of the seat, sure to keep lots of space between them. Ritsu didn’t start reading right away, he was busy enjoying his shaved ice. He tucked his feet up on the bench and stared off towards the fountain. He loved this spot, so quiet and it filled him with a sense of peace. Or well it normally would were it not for the fact that his Sempai was sitting next to him and it was just so much, too much for his heart to handle. He cast a secretive side glance at Saga-sempai. He had his magazine laying in his lap and was enjoying his own ice. Ritsu couldn’t help the small shy smile that curved his lips as he flicked his gaze back over to the fountain.

Saga noticed the fidgety boy peeking at him but did his best to pretend he didn’t notice. It wasn’t hard to do since he was more than used to the guy sulking in the background and staring at him endlessly. Just what was he doing out here, spending time with a stalker of all things? Never mind that he was having more fun than he thought he would and was enjoying the cool spring afternoon and the soft gurgle of the fountain. The flutter of sakura petals made it almost seem magical and with that last thought he almost scoffed at himself. Just what the hell was the guy thinking, they were boy guys and surely he realized that nothing would come from this. But, why was he feeling this odd sense of companionship? The normally lonely feeling that suffused his being, missing in the presence of the younger male. He was brought out of his thoughts from a sudden question from the guy sitting next to him.

“Do you want to take turns reading the story Sempai?” his cheeks flushed red as he set his cup of melon flavored ice to the side, “I’ll go first!..” flashing Saga a large smile that made the green of his eyes dance. Saga just shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and Ritsu took that as a yes.

His kouhai started to read the latest installment of the short story by Usami Akihiko. He staggered and stumbled over the first few lines because of his nerves, but to Masamune’s shock, the boy seemed to snap into the tale and read in a soft soothing voice that lulled him as he continued to eat the treat that was given to him. He was able to close his eyes, picturing the scenes in his mindseye and appreciate the soft voice of his kouhai much to his surprise.

It wasn’t uncommon for Ritsu to get caught up in a book, this one seemed to have drawn him into the pages and unfurled into a story that told of loneliness and pain that he could sympathize with. He didn’t even realize that he had a slow tear tracking it’s way down his cheek as he got to a particularly emotional passage. Every now and then he would take a spoonful of his shaved ice to quench his dry throat and then continue on with the tale, forgetting that they were supposed to be taking turns since he’d become so absorbed.

Masamune stared in surprise at his kouhai, his voice was clear and concise, hell the words were pouring off of his lips like a poem and making the prose of sensei that much more impactful.  The passion in his young voice as he wove the talk of Usami to life  wrapped itself about him and made him feel all sorts of weird things. How was it that the stuttering mess of a boy could turn around and be so...so, hell he wasn’t sure what else to call it but enthralling. Ritsu didn’t even seem to notice that hours went by as he continued all the way to the end of the installment. Watching him swipe a hand under his eye to take away the proof of just how much the story had moved him and turned his big emerald eyes to him.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away.” he spoke shyly and blushed furiously under his sempai’s inspection. He hoped he didn’t mess the story up!

“I didn’t mind,” Saga returned in a soft voice and wondered at the strange thrum of his heart that kicked into gear when his kouhai had looked his way. Suddenly, he noticed the younger stiffening and looking around as if remembering where they were.

“Oh...oh no!” Noticing the orange glow of the setting sun that signalled that he’d been out much longer than he should have been. He shot up to his feet and started to pack his bag quickly and tossed the empty cup into the trash. “My mother is going to kill me!” he whined and seemed to be shaking as he flung his bag over his arm, “I had a wonderful time sempai, even if it was all just a coincidence it made me incredibly happy!” 

Masamune watched as he kouhai turned on his heel and went tearing off in the direction of the subway, canting his head in confusion. Did he really live on the outskirts of the region of Tokyo where all the rich people lived? Well, he shouldn’t be surprised, he knew by the way the guy had acted and his naivety that he came from a well off family. But what was bothering him now, more than anything else, as he pushed himself to his feet and cleaned up the area of his own debris, was how much fun he’d had today with the spastic underclassman. Really, if anything it annoyed him that it left him feeling strangely light with a weird feeling fluttering about in his stomach and chest. Oda was really starting to piss him off for reasons that he just couldn’t understand and yet, somehow he wondered if they would be able to spend time together again soon. It was much better than sitting around bored at home or listening to his parents scream endlessly at one another. Ugh, he should just go home and stop thinking about the confusing feelings his kouhai was stirring within him. His mask of indifference fit over his features and hid the truth from view, even from himself. He didn’t even know he was slowly falling in love with that Oda, Ritsu.