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There wasn't a Rory/John story anywhere. So i made one. *shrugs*
Rory glared furiously into the liquid depths of his second pint, the very same one he was gripping so tightly his knuckles were white.
How could she do this to him? How could she even think of- His brother, sure, he wasn't too surprised, but Laura? Laura? He trusted her to keep faithful, trusted her and trusted their relationship. She introduced him to her parents, for GOODNESS SAKE!
He thought they had something.
"One more!" he called at the bartender, doing a double-take when he realized the man was too busy grinning at the very hot woman at the other end at the bar.
His lips twisted into a slight scowl.
He had done a lot of good, didn't he? Kept his goddamned mess of a father from freaking out over what was probably nothing at all, arranged a PARTY for the very man who had forgotten his own wedding anniversary just after his girlfriend broke up with him by having sex with his brother. Selfish brother who thought about nothing but himself.
He wasn't even surprised.
A soft thunk sounded in front of him, the crystal base of a glass just at the edge of his field of vision. He looked up to see a boy, or a teenager, his age. But that wasn't the first thing he saw about the boy.
The first thing was his eyes. His light smiling eyes that looked sort of like a cloudy sky, grey and blue in a beautiful mix.
That was when he stopped his thoughts violently.
No. No. He did not just think that way about a guy.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," the boy said, smiling amusedly, "My boss," there he jerked his thumb towards the sleazy bartender hitting on that blond chick, "He only waits on you if you're a girl."
"It's- ah, it's fine."
Why on earth was he blubbering? He was acting like he had when he was trying to get Laura to date him.
He snapped his eyes to his drink in a panic. Shit.
"It's all fine." he muttered.
He looked up again; the boy was smiling at him, twinkling blue eyes dragging over him slowly before settling to meet his gaze.
"What?" a nervous laugh left him involuntarily, shifting uncomfortably in his seat – why was it so hard?!
"It's all fine." the boy echoed, "Thanks for the look, by the way."
"What look?"
"The I find him attractive look." The boy smirked faintly – it wasn't an unpleasant smirk, it was kind, perhaps a little amused, "It's not as uncommon as you think around here."
"Who-who said I found you attractive?" he managed with a small smile, congratulating himself on being able to come up with that comeback and not fall over himself like an idiot as he brought his drink up to his lips.
"As I said. Not as uncommon as you think." He received a wink that made him choke on his whiskey.
"I'm not gay." He said hurriedly, putting his drink down a little bit too harshly, "I have a girlfriend. I mean, I had… she's gone and had sex with my brother."
The boy, wiping his hands on his jeans as he reached under the counter for a glass, made a sympathetic noise as he re-emerged, "I know exactly how that feels; I'm bisexual myself. And my sister keeps stealing my girlfriends."
His eyebrows rose up despite himself, as he watched the boy serve up two cocktails to a couple at the end, "She does?" he asked once the boy returned.
"Yep." A huff, "Seduces them with her never-ending charm and wit, apparently."
"You must want to strangle her." He muttered, taking a sip from his own beer.
"I've had my moments, probably going to have a lot more moments." The boy gave him another look, from his chest to his eyes, "Decided to go for men. Safer around her."
A nervous laugh bubbled from his lips, and he ducked his head down to avoid meeting the boy's gaze.
"Here's my number."
His eyes widened, and yet he grasped the slip of paper carefully, unsure of what to say, or what to do. He opened his mouth to object, but his breath caught in his throat when he raised his head and met the boy's kind smile; it was bright, impossibly bright, the curve of his lips was very nice too…
Bloody hell.
"My shift ends at 11 30, if you're willing to wait. This isn't casual sex, mind." The boy added with a wagging finger, "I'm looking for a relationship. If you show up, then I know you're willing to give it a go. If you don't, then I gave it a shot."
Right.
He backed out of his seat, almost stumbling out over his feet, "I'll think about it." It was the best he could do, riddled with his breakup and murky with alcohol.
The boy bowed theatrically, flashing him a cheeky smile. "All I can ask."
He felt a little chilly despite his jacket, especially the tips of his fingers, so he stuffed them in his jacket's pockets with a small irritated huff, his feet aching in his shoes as he made his way down the streets. He could already see his house at the end, bright lights and loud music and all.
And his brother banging away into his girlfriend.
He cursed quietly into the night, abruptly stopping in his tracks just a few houses from his own.
He brought his arm up to peer at the time – 9 32.
The number in his pocket burned at his mind, and when he thought back, it was to the young bartender's kind smile and warm eyes, the curve of is lips and arch of his eyebrows, his ruffled blond hair that looked gold under the horrible lighting of the bar.
He supposed it wouldn't be horrible to date a guy.
Paul was okay with lesbians, he should be okay with him being a… gay. Or, what was it the boy said? Bisexual? What did that even mean?
He brought his arms up to ruffle through his hair, as if he could shake the answers out of his head.
How did gays have sex? Could they even…?
Argh, what was he thinking? He couldn't do this. He wasn't gay. He had liked women all his life, probably always will.
He trudged in through the gate, eyes wandering up to the window to Daniel's room, which was brightly lit. He glared.
What the hell.
He was sick of his brother seducing his girlfriends.
It could be a refreshing change. A boy didn't sound too bad anymore.
He decided he'd go back to the pub and wait it out. Maybe get to know the mysterious boy a little better before he made his decision. Didn't even know his name.