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And I Meant It
By: Nanaki BH
"Remember, Dylan, before four o'clock!" Dylan's mom called from the door as we got into his convertible. He waved her off and started the car. The drive to the store was relatively boring, save for every time his hand would brush against mine. It sent small electric shocks up my spine. It never ceases to amaze me. I'm just so... attracted to him. The sparks must be from some sort of magnetic friction then, right? Or not, because I have no clue when it comes to science. Apparently chemistry isn't just something you learn in a classroom. Or is magnetic stuff something completely different? Well, whatever.
I was broken from my reverie when he stopped the car out side of a small beverage store. These places were all over, but this one certainly wasn't the usual Convenient. It didn't really have a name. The sign about the door just said "Farmers' Market" then underneath that in small print "Beverage Store". It was really pitiful from the out side. It was a small square building. Rusted bike racks were set up near the entrance. One lonely little bike was placed precariously in one of its spots. Dylan practically made a full fire drill as he ran around the back of the car to open my door. "Thanks," I said weakly. I was still pretty tired from the exhaustion.
When I stood I noticed a very familiar scent from inside. It wasn't any particular smell. It was... just very... Italian. "This place is an Italian business, isn't it?" I asked Dylan.
He scratched the back of his neck. "I think so. It's Italian and Slovenian or something. Why do you ask?"
I shook my head. "It just smells like it." I laughed. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but I've been going to places like these forever. They all have that same smell. It must be a combination of the food, the wine, the people, and more wine and food." He laughed. Yay! Bonus points to Marco for making cute guy laugh!
He took my hand. "What were we getting?"
Easy answer, "turkey." He must have been distracted before by my abundant beauty.
He nodded. "Dunno how I forgot that. I love this place's turkey. They're the best." He smiled; something that always made my head light and my heart flutter. And for God's sake, all he was talking about was turkey! He's good. He can make turkey seem really interesting.
He gave my hand a light tug and I forgot all about the turkey. All I was focusing on for the few moments before we stepped into the shop was his warm, soft hand holding mine. When we finally got inside the scent became much more intense and hit me like a semi. It used to be a comforting aroma, but as of late, it's become something I fear. It brought back the memory of what happened earlier this afternoon. I squeezed his hand a bit tighter and shut my eyes for a moment, trying to push the thought away. When I opened them, we were standing in the doorway. He was looking at me with that concerned expression again. It made me feel a bit guilty, but he squeezed my hand in return as if to say "I understand".
"What, are you just going to stand there?" I blushed, taking noticed of the annoyed expression on the cashier's face. "You're going to buy something, right?"
Dylan gave him a flippant wave and guided me over to the small meat counter. Now that I'm inside, everything seems much smaller, even though the out side was small to begin with. After exchanging a couple words with the guy behind the counter, he received a parcel of turkey. He nodded and started to the register. The cashier looked to be in his late fifties. He wasn't fat, but wasn't exactly what you would call thin. Thin was Dylan. He had this sort of mobster look going for him. He was very tall, with this edgy tough look to him. The whole time I could feel his eyes on my back. It was just confirmed when I looked directly at him with him staring back into my eyes. He was indeed very intimidating. I could tell from the moment we walked in that he was a homophobe. That other guy was real nice. Considering that Dylan came here a lot, at least from what he said, don't you think this guy should be happy to see us?
The man only took a glance at the package to find its price. What bothered me then was that he kept his eyes on me even as he rang the cash register. What is his problem? I'm not his kid! Then again, he could be like my dad's cousin's great uncle twice removed and I wouldn't know it. He probably got the letter about the 'situation' by now.
Dylan took my hand back after we paid and dragged me away from that man's gaze. I knew my ears would be ringing later.
"What a schuschtumad," I groaned.
He stopped mid-step and raised an eyebrow at me. "A what?"
I laughed. I didn't even think about it when I said that. "It's Italian. It's a name for someone really rude and uncouth."
He nodded. "You mean the cashier? That's Mike. He's nice to me usually. He knows I'm gay and he's sort of twitchy around me sometimes. I guess he thought with us together like that it was a bit over the top. I don't know about him, but I think we look great together." My cheeks hurt and I wondered silently if I was blushing. He hugged me around the shoulders with one arm, sort of like one of those hugs straight guys give each other. Somehow, getting one from a gay dude felt a lot more endearing.
He looked out to his car and grimaced. "That's the only bad thing about a convertible." He gave a sad laugh. "Things could be worse."
When did it start raining? Oh crap, that's what he means. Without a top, his car was soaked.
He patted me gently on the back. "I hope you don't mind getting a tad bit wet."
I laughed outright. "Like I care!" I grabbed him and ran to the car. Even if we got pneumonia, this could be some great fun!
"Whatever you want, babe," he laughed, turning on the engine.
Author's Note: It took me forever to write that... I was so determined to make getting turkey interesting. Haha. I dig myself into positions like that without even thinking about it. I had to use the word schuschtumad because my aunt uses it all the time. I don't know if I spelled it right, but I'm guessing I did. My mom thought it was spelled that way and she's Italian too, so we can only hope. My aunt always refers to my cousin's boyfriend like that. Hehe. SO! I may write the lemon, but it's subject to change. I'm not sure how far I can take their relationship in one small fanfic. I might be able to do a one-shot with it and pull it off. Well, I hope to hear from you all! Thank you for all the lovely reviews!
And I Meant It
By: Nanaki BH
"Remember, Dylan, before four o'clock!" Dylan's mom called from the door as we got into his convertible. He waved her off and started the car. The drive to the store was relatively boring, save for every time his hand would brush against mine. It sent small electric shocks up my spine. It never ceases to amaze me. I'm just so... attracted to him. The sparks must be from some sort of magnetic friction then, right? Or not, because I have no clue when it comes to science. Apparently chemistry isn't just something you learn in a classroom. Or is magnetic stuff something completely different? Well, whatever.
I was broken from my reverie when he stopped the car out side of a small beverage store. These places were all over, but this one certainly wasn't the usual Convenient. It didn't really have a name. The sign about the door just said "Farmers' Market" then underneath that in small print "Beverage Store". It was really pitiful from the out side. It was a small square building. Rusted bike racks were set up near the entrance. One lonely little bike was placed precariously in one of its spots. Dylan practically made a full fire drill as he ran around the back of the car to open my door. "Thanks," I said weakly. I was still pretty tired from the exhaustion.
When I stood I noticed a very familiar scent from inside. It wasn't any particular smell. It was... just very... Italian. "This place is an Italian business, isn't it?" I asked Dylan.
He scratched the back of his neck. "I think so. It's Italian and Slovenian or something. Why do you ask?"
I shook my head. "It just smells like it." I laughed. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but I've been going to places like these forever. They all have that same smell. It must be a combination of the food, the wine, the people, and more wine and food." He laughed. Yay! Bonus points to Marco for making cute guy laugh!
He took my hand. "What were we getting?"
Easy answer, "turkey." He must have been distracted before by my abundant beauty.
He nodded. "Dunno how I forgot that. I love this place's turkey. They're the best." He smiled; something that always made my head light and my heart flutter. And for God's sake, all he was talking about was turkey! He's good. He can make turkey seem really interesting.
He gave my hand a light tug and I forgot all about the turkey. All I was focusing on for the few moments before we stepped into the shop was his warm, soft hand holding mine. When we finally got inside the scent became much more intense and hit me like a semi. It used to be a comforting aroma, but as of late, it's become something I fear. It brought back the memory of what happened earlier this afternoon. I squeezed his hand a bit tighter and shut my eyes for a moment, trying to push the thought away. When I opened them, we were standing in the doorway. He was looking at me with that concerned expression again. It made me feel a bit guilty, but he squeezed my hand in return as if to say "I understand".
"What, are you just going to stand there?" I blushed, taking noticed of the annoyed expression on the cashier's face. "You're going to buy something, right?"
Dylan gave him a flippant wave and guided me over to the small meat counter. Now that I'm inside, everything seems much smaller, even though the out side was small to begin with. After exchanging a couple words with the guy behind the counter, he received a parcel of turkey. He nodded and started to the register. The cashier looked to be in his late fifties. He wasn't fat, but wasn't exactly what you would call thin. Thin was Dylan. He had this sort of mobster look going for him. He was very tall, with this edgy tough look to him. The whole time I could feel his eyes on my back. It was just confirmed when I looked directly at him with him staring back into my eyes. He was indeed very intimidating. I could tell from the moment we walked in that he was a homophobe. That other guy was real nice. Considering that Dylan came here a lot, at least from what he said, don't you think this guy should be happy to see us?
The man only took a glance at the package to find its price. What bothered me then was that he kept his eyes on me even as he rang the cash register. What is his problem? I'm not his kid! Then again, he could be like my dad's cousin's great uncle twice removed and I wouldn't know it. He probably got the letter about the 'situation' by now.
Dylan took my hand back after we paid and dragged me away from that man's gaze. I knew my ears would be ringing later.
"What a schuschtumad," I groaned.
He stopped mid-step and raised an eyebrow at me. "A what?"
I laughed. I didn't even think about it when I said that. "It's Italian. It's a name for someone really rude and uncouth."
He nodded. "You mean the cashier? That's Mike. He's nice to me usually. He knows I'm gay and he's sort of twitchy around me sometimes. I guess he thought with us together like that it was a bit over the top. I don't know about him, but I think we look great together." My cheeks hurt and I wondered silently if I was blushing. He hugged me around the shoulders with one arm, sort of like one of those hugs straight guys give each other. Somehow, getting one from a gay dude felt a lot more endearing.
He looked out to his car and grimaced. "That's the only bad thing about a convertible." He gave a sad laugh. "Things could be worse."
When did it start raining? Oh crap, that's what he means. Without a top, his car was soaked.
He patted me gently on the back. "I hope you don't mind getting a tad bit wet."
I laughed outright. "Like I care!" I grabbed him and ran to the car. Even if we got pneumonia, this could be some great fun!
"Whatever you want, babe," he laughed, turning on the engine.
Author's Note: It took me forever to write that... I was so determined to make getting turkey interesting. Haha. I dig myself into positions like that without even thinking about it. I had to use the word schuschtumad because my aunt uses it all the time. I don't know if I spelled it right, but I'm guessing I did. My mom thought it was spelled that way and she's Italian too, so we can only hope. My aunt always refers to my cousin's boyfriend like that. Hehe. SO! I may write the lemon, but it's subject to change. I'm not sure how far I can take their relationship in one small fanfic. I might be able to do a one-shot with it and pull it off. Well, I hope to hear from you all! Thank you for all the lovely reviews!