My Brother's Best Friend - LGBT, boyXman

10

On Saturday night, after finishing my homework and doing some of the housework, I went up to my room and tried to decide what to wear for my date.

I pulled out almost every outfit I owned and tried most of them on, before deciding on my black skinny jeans, a plain red t-shirt, my black leather jacket and my trainers.

I took some cash from my moneybox and slid it into my jeans pocket, before going into the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth and spent a few minutes carefully styling my hair, before going downstairs.

I poked my head into the living room, where Matt was reading the evening paper, and told him I was going out.

David was in the kitchen making coffee, and he came out as I pulled on my shoes.

“Do you need a lift?”

I hesitated, before nodding.

“Thanks.”

“Where do you need dropping off?” David asked, after he’d given Matt his mug of coffee, pulled on his shoes and unlocked the Beetle.

“Just outside the shopping centre. Dale’s meeting me there.”

David nodded, and started the engine.

“Do you need picking up?”

“Don’t know. I’m not sure where we’re going, so I don’t know how long we’ll be.”

“Let me know if you do.”

I nodded, thanked him, and clambered out of the car when he pulled up outside the shopping centre.

I watched him drive away and settled myself on one of the benches outside the shopping centre.

The night was a little chilly, and I ended up pulling my coat tighter around me as I waited for Dale to arrive.

Clouds were obscuring the night sky, so instead of stargazing I spend my time watching a pair of pigeons wandering about in the road.

Dale arrived almost half an hour after our designated meeting time. He came running up, looking flustered, and thudded to a stop in front of me.

“Sorry I’m late,” he gasped, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. “There was an incident with some spaghetti.”

I grinned and patted his shoulder.

“Just breathe.”

He nodded and sank onto the bench beside me.

He looked rather yummy when he was flustered, I must admit. His hair was windswept, his cheeks red, his shirt crumpled.

“What’re you smiling at?” He asked, seeing my gaze levelled somewhere near his abdomen.

“Nothing,” I said absently, before realising I was A, staring and B, having sexual thoughts again, and quickly raising my gaze to his face. “What’re we doing tonight, then?”

“Well, there’s a little place at the back of the shopping centre that does mug painting and stuff like that. I thought we could go there.”

“Sure. I don’t think I’ve seen that place before.”

“It only opened a couple of months ago.”

I followed Dale up to the second floor of the centre, and saw the little place he was talking about.

The front window was brightly lit, and decorated with various plates, mugs, coasters and glasses that had been decorated by patrons and left behind.