Honey

Gerard sat at the Coffee Bean -- the table closest to the window -- and waited for Frank to walk through the single door. Surely, he would have heard the jingle of the bell if he wasn't watching, but he wanted to see his date enter the shop. He wanted to be sure that all of this was real. Half of Gerard believed Frank wasn't going to bother with showing up. A half of that half figured that none of this was even real. There was no boy from the convenient store, and there was no date on a Saturday in a coffee shop. The other half, the more optimistic half, said Frank would show up. He wouldn't have agreed to coffee if he didn't want to go. Gerard wasn't crazy and he wasn't just imagining a date. He had one, and Frank was just running late.

But forty-five minutes late? They'd agreed on four 'o' clock and Frank had promised to be there. He'd even asked to make sure.

"The table closest to the window, right?" He'd asked. And when Gerard had confirmed it, he could feel the smile in Frank's voice. "Good. I love the window seat."

Gerard sighed and ran a hand though his growing hair. He's dyed it black again after experimenting with brown. His hair had always been dark, and when he went lighter it didn't look to great. It washed him out. Now, the color was perfect, he was simply in dire need of a haircut.

Gerard averted his eyes from the door, the emptiness of the shop reminding him all the more that he was alone. "He isn't going to show," he mumbled under his breath as he checked his phone for the time.

It was five 'o' clock. Frank was exactly an hour late, and by the looks of it, he wasn't going to show up. Gerard could understand being ten minutes late, but sixty?

"Face it, Gerard. You've been stood up."

Just as he was about to stand up and clear the trash from the table -- he'd consumed five cups of coffee within the last hour -- Gerard heard the soft jingle of a bell as the door to the coffee shop was pushed open.

A flustered Frank stumbled through the door, his face red and his breathing labored. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. A smile tugged on Gerard's lips, but he had a hard time accepting the facial expression. He wondered if it was too good to be true.

"Did you run here?" Gerard asked, catching Frank's attention.

The brown haired boy near the door looked up and nodded upon seeing Gerard. He stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I probably stink too," he added as he approached his date. "And for that, I'm sorry."

Gerard nodded, a small laugh escaping his throat. "You're late, you know," he stated. "About an hour, if you're wondering."

Frank frowned, looking down at his shoes; A pair of sneakers he'd thrown on after shoving Eliza out of his front door. "Yeah," he said. "Sorry about that. I-- it's... don't be too mad at me?"

His eyes were hopeful, and Gerard had a hard time staying angry. He was more disappointed than mad in the first place. "I'm not mad," Gerard said. "Just curious."

"About why I'm late?" Frank confirmed, earning a nod on Gerard end. He laughed. "Eliza. She wanted me to look -- and these are her words --- 'sexy for my hot date.'"

Gerard chuckled.

"Yeah. She made me change my outfit about seven times. I had to force her out of my apartment to get here when I did. I was afraid you were going to leave."

"I almost did," Gerard replied. "I was afraid you stood me up."

Frank frowned. "I'm sorry. I bet you felt like shit. I mean... I feel like shit."

The two of them stood in place, unsure of where to go from there. Do they take their seats and order coffee? Do they leave and find something else to do? Go see a movie, perhaps? Luckily, Frank noticed the table and pointed towards the window.

"Window seats," he said, smiling. "How about we sit, yeah? I don't' want to lose our table."

Gerard nodded in agreement, leading the way towards the table. He quick;y gathered up the cups he'd left there and tossed them into the trash. "I had a few cups while I was waiting," he explained.

Frank giggled, placing his elbow on the table and resting his hand in his palm. "It's okay. At least you don't smell like a sweaty football player. I feel all sticky and gross."

Gerard sat down. "You don't smell," he commented. "You actually look nice. Eliza did good."

Frank blushed, looking down at the table. "Thanks," he said, looking back up at Gerard. It was then that he noticed how good looking Gerard actually was. The shape of his face, his eyes, the natural pout of his lips. It was absolute perfection, in Frank's opinion.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," Frank added. "Really."

Gerard grinned and glanced out the window. "How about dinner? It's a little after five and I know a great restaurant downtown. Do you like Italian?"

Frank nodded. "I love it... I grew up Italian, actually."

Gerard felt a smile give a gentle tug to his lips and, this time, he let it doe its job. "Me too," he replied. "So... how about dinner? You up for it?"

Frank grinned, mirroring Gerard's expression. "Yeah. Lead the way; I'm up for anything."