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I Think I Love You

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Friday night. Finally, the sun was beginning to set. George had been waiting restlessly all day. He gazed longingly at the sky, watching the gradient of blues, pinks and oranges form to create a work of art. George sat at his dressing table, styling his hair and painting his face. Never had he been so thrilled to go to the Beat Route - a club he'd been to countless times. Although, this time would be special. 

Jon slicked back his thick, black hair into a greaser-style quiff. He must have used a whole bottle of aftershave, making sure that everywhere was fragrant. Frantically, he dug out his most flattering jacket to go with the tightest trousers he owned. He looked like something out of an old romance film - practically perfect in every way. Despite being excited, he couldn't help but feel nervous - how far could he go? How far would he go? Of course, he didn't want to come on too strong, but even the thought of those eyes made him go slightly lightheaded.

He pulled up in his bright, white Golf and beeped his horn. His stomach was doing somersaults and his heart was pounding three times as fast as it probably should. Suddenly, the moment had arrived. The tatty, old door had swung open to reveal his date for the evening. There he stood -  in a torn sack skirt, red Crimplene flowered blouse and matching tights that his mum made out of a chair cover with a black twenties tabard and a big wooden crucifix. His dark hair was plaited, covered in ribbons and rags, topped off with a big black fedora. Jon's jaw dropped and for a moment, George heart sank.

"Blimey!" said Jon, "you look great!" 

George let out a loud sigh of relief. 

"Not so shabby yourself." He grinned. 

In style, they pulled up outside the Beat Route. They sat for a moment, both nervous about going in. George made the first move, Jon promptly followed. As they walked through the kaleidoscope of lights, they were greeted with snarling faces, inspecting them from head to toe. George couldn't hide his delight. Yes, he had turned up with the most gorgeous guy in London - or the world. Jon grabbed his arm, they looked like one of those showbiz couples - like Richard Burton and Liz Taylor. As they continued through the club, it was impossible to ignore the stares.

"New boyfriend, ay George?" Asked one.

"You wanna run while you still have legs, darlin'!" Another cackled.

George smirked at them as he carried on past them. The thought of having Jon as his boyfriend exhilarated him, but he just let them all think what they wanted - they always did anyway.

Neither of them really knew what to say. They guzzled the drinks and danced the night away, without a single care in the world. They had no idea how long they'd been out for, but neither of them wanted it to end.

Eventually, the club closed, kicking out the army of party goers as they stumbled and piled into the roads. Jon opened the passenger side of his car as a signal for George to get in and bowed like a member of staff when he did so. The journey home was filled with words they were desperate to say, but couldn't. His Golf pulled up outside George's place once again, as it had hours earlier.

"You didn't have to walk me to my door, Jon." George smiled. 

"Well, you never know what could happen!" He giggled, "a beauty like you, all alone."

They laughed, but the comfortable silence consumed them once again. All they could do was just stand there, gazing longingly into each other's eyes. 

"Right!" Said Jon, breaking the quiet, "I best be off then." 

George's disappointment transformed into overwhelming delight as Jon rose onto the tip of his toes to kiss his cheek - he couldn't help but linger as he did so. Immediately, George placed his hand on the same place Jon had tenderly caressed.

"You know, I won't be able to sleep." Jon said sheepishly before dashing off back to his car, beeping his horn and speeding into the night. 

In a fit of sheer excitement, George ran inside and sat on the stairs. A sudden feeling of disappointment and anger crept in - he could have strangled himself for not grabbing him. Although, not even a what if could wash away such elation from the recent events. 

Similarly, Jon lied back on his bed - he truly kept his word when he said that he wouldn't be able to sleep. With a smile printed firmly on his face, and with the lasting feeling of George's soft cheek on his lips, he couldn't wait until he saw him again.