they wish they were us | conan gray

24. boyfriend

Conan locks the car, skips over the curb, almost knocking into an old grandma but he doesn't give a shit. He has a date. A date with Noah and old women, however much ability they have to place curses according to Japanese folklore, are not going to stop him from charging at the speed of a bullet train.

Noah had changed up the plans slightly and said he'd meet up with him around the store. Conan would have agreed to anything. Anything as long as he'd get to stay around him and breathe the same air as him.

The store emerges to view. It's not really a store but a huge L-shaped building with a pizzeria, a thrift store, a place to buy jewellery and a gas station in the back. It's in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of Georgetown and Austin. Josh aspires to buy the gas station here and though Conan wants to play the part of a discouraging sibling for him, he has motivated him by saying he can do it.

He yanks open the door to the thrift store, meeting with discontent when he doesn't see Noah immediately, at the cash register. The chair next to the registers where people can get piercings looks very daunting now, torture device calling his name. Ignore it.

"Hi!"

Conan turns around to be met with a pair of sharp black yes set into a soft face. His hands fidget, his lips quiver in anticipation and he blurts out a harsh, "Hi!"

Noah blinks and jerks back a little. Conan blinks right back, his face threatening to slip off his neck because he's retracted his neck. He remotely feels like a swan craning its neck.

"Hi, hi, hi, potential boyfriend candidate," Noah says, holding back a smile.

Conan drinks in the sight of him in a black sweater and dungaree pants. A low buzz in his belly causes a burst of colors to glide across his cheeks. He looks so cute with his dark hair and clothes, contrasting against his skin. This shouldn't be happening. Nothing that hasn't even started properly yet should feel so right. It just feels so 'yes' with him.

"You look really good," Conan compliments the other boy. It isn't the typical date formality that makes him say it. He's observed that usually he compliments other people in a way to cheer them up but with Noah it just flows out just so naturally.

"You too," Noah smiles in a way that makes Conan believe that he actually does. His favorite button up, cuffed jeans and a jean jacket is hardly anything decorative but he figured he shouldn't go with much razzle-dazzle and keep it simple. Not so simple that Noah would assume that he didn't care about their date. He had, ungrudgingly, spent a lot of time in front of the mirror. Ashley may have been involved forcefully. "Have you ever been here?"

Conan looks around the thrift store, taking in the soft lighting of the store that makes the hangers and the clothes extra shiny. He is drawn to look through some stuff since his winter wardrobe is proving to be scanty and challenging. "Never. Though, it looks really good. I am assuming you dig the lighting."

"Oh yeah, I picked it out," Noah says. "My mom and her fiance own all the stores here."

"Really? Wow, does that mean I get a discount?" Conan pipes in with a shameless smile.

Noah chuckles, nodding. His eyes shine, a look Conan realizes he gives his raccoons. Never had he thought he'd be happy to be compared with a raccoon. "You're not liable for the boyfriend discount."

"Yet," Conan mocks with a smirk. The other turns a light shade of red that Conan hopes means that he won't notice how red in the face Conan himself has gotten. "This whole place though? That's really impressive."

"You'll surprised how far concubine money stretches," Noah coughs and Conan's insides flare with a peculiar curiosity. Noah doesn't bat an eye at him as he opens his mouth to question. "My mom's side of the family were Japanese nobles' concubines."