(Thanks to my friend H for the record store idea!)
As soon as the bell stops ringing above the record store door, Justin forgets what he walked in for.
He’s so used to see Jen behind the counter – he’s even got a coffee he made her just before leaving work – he’s not sure what to do when he sees she’s not here today.
There’s a new guy behind the counter and he’s – well, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.
He’s tall and muscular with gorgeous blonde hair, but the whole stud look is balanced by the mischievous, welcoming grin on his face. Like, his good looks are inviting rather than intimidating.
“Hey man, what can I do for you?” Even his voice is nice.
“Just – just browsing,” he mumbles, making a beeline for a bin of records to look busy while he tries to calm down.
Justin knows this store like the back of his hand but somehow in his haste he plonked himself in front of the pop section, of all things.
He looks through it idly, each act seeming more insipid than the next.
Footsteps near him and that damn voice again. “Timberlake, uh? I’m a JT fan, too – have you heard his last album?”
Justin looks down at the record he’d picked up distractedly.
“I mean – my name’s Justin.”
“Oh, hey – I’m Zack.” He holds out a fist an Justin bumps it. “Hold on.”
He turns back towards a New Arrivals display and comes back with a bright orange CD. “You listened to it yet?”
Justin pretends to look at the cover art but really he’s just leaning in closer to Zack. He smells like coffee and laundry detergent and the knowledge feels so intimate Justin grows red before he remembers Zack asked him a question.
“Um – I haven’t got the chance to, not yet.” It’s technically not a lie.
Zack twirls the album between his hands a few times, eyeing Justin.
“I’ve got it at home, maybe you could come over and listen to it?”
Justin’s eyes widen. “That – that would be nice.”
He leaves the shop empty handed and it’s only when he reaches home that he remembers what he actually went to the store for. The last album of Mayday Mountains, his favourite indie folk band.
Ryan Brogara - you’ve seen that dude for five minutes and you’re going to his place??? bro you gonna get murdered
Justin knew Ryan would jump to ‘serial killer’ as soon as he knew, but, just in case he was right, Justin thought it best to tell at least one person where he’d be.
Every thought of serial killers vanishes, however, when Zack opens the door. His whole face lights up with a grin, and he looks genuinely happy to see Justin.
“Um, I brought beer,” Justin awkwardly hands him a six-pack he picked up on the way.
“Thanks man – sit down, make yourself at home,” he says pointing at the couch. He takes two beers out of the box and walks away to put the rest in the fridge.
Zack puts on the CD, immediately raises his eyebrows at Justin like isn’t it great?
Justin nods, cracks a smile. This is so not his kind of music, but Zack just looks so excited about it, bouncing up and down like he just wants to get up and dance, Justin can’t bring himself to say so.
Plus, Zack is sitting quite close to him on the couch – their thighs are almost touching – so Justin doesn’t want it to end.
They have a few beers and Zack plays the album from the beginning two more times – “You can’t really form an opinion from only one listen, is what I always say.”
Justin’s opinion hasn’t really changed since the first listen: not his cup of tea, but he’d listen to it a thousand times if it meant Zack kept sliding closer and closer to him on the couch like he’s doing.
It’s probably just the beer, but Justin feels at last comfortable enough to speak up.
“You know, I don’t really give a crap about Timberlake. I actually came in to buy Mayday Mountains’ new release.”
Zack gasps mockingly. “How dare you, sir?” But he immediately chuckles. “I know, dude, it’s obvious.”
“It is?” Justin looks up from the half-ripped label of his beer bottle, mouth agape.
“Yeah, I mean, you look more interested in the beer and – ” Zack stops himself.Justin sees the look in his eyes that says I’m fucked, tastes the unsaid in the thick air between them.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, slowly closing the space between them.
Their lips meet as the record ends, and Justin doesn’t know what he welcomes more: the silence, the taste of Zack’s lips, or the way his fingers keep the beat on Justin’s hip long after the song fades.
And then Zack moans into his mouth and it sounds better than any album ever recorded.
send me ANY two buzzfeed people and i’ll write you a drabble!
