Misunderestimation

Gerard’s POV

We are walking, rather slowly for my liking really, but walking. Anyway he makes up for it. It’s so cute how every few paces he skips a step to catch up to me. It’s adorable how he pulls his hand out of mine every few minutes to wipe it on his jeans, and then put it back.
I smile to myself.
“What are you smiling about?” He asks; a mixture of anxiousness and cheek in this voice.
“Nothing,” I reply. “Just you and the silly little things you do.”
“What do I do that’s silly?!” He retorts back, defensively.
“Um, it doesn’t matter. Here’s my house, um, do you want to come in? I mean we have to finish our art project by tomorrow, so we better get started…” I trail off.
He looked uncertain. He looked up to the sky and mumbles something unidentifiable to himself.
He then looks at the ground and says to his feet “Yeah, Ok…”
I grab his hand again and we walk up the steps to my house. We are greeted by a disgruntled Mikey, who looks like he has just gotten out of bed.
“Where the hell have you been?” He snaps at me. “You were supposed to be home for our horror movie marathon, now we don’t have time to watch Nightmare on Elm Street!”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, this is Frank, my, uh, … friend. You mind if he stays and watches too?” I say apologetically.
“Yeah we’ve met. Whatever, just don’t eat all the pizza.”
Great, they’ve only met twice and they are already not getting along. I suddenly remember: “Frank, do you like horror?”
“Hell yeah!” He shouts, and practically jumps inside, still holding my hand.
Well, I suppose something good will come of my forgetfulness.

Frank POV

We are 3 hours into the marathon, and we’ve just started on our fourth pizza. I think they’ve noticed my eating habits (or lack of) and Mikey begins questioning.
“Dude, I said don’t eat all the pizza but you are allowed some!” He laughs. Cute, but not as cute as his brother’s.
“Um, no, I can’t eat it.” I say, shyly, as this is the first thing I’ve really said all evening.
“ What, are you like hyperglycaemic or something? I mean, we can order you other stuff… you can eat steak right?” He says, and continues babbling on about what hyperglycaemic’s can and can’t eat.
“ No, im not hypno-guy- see-mick or whatever, I’m a vegetarian.”
When they look kind of blankly at me, I add; “Uh, it means I don’t eat meat?”
“Yeah, we know,” Gerard answers, “Its just that in our family, well, meat is kind of a big thing. Meat for every meal…” He finishes, looks at the ground ashamedly and bites his lip, looking guilty.
“ Dude, it’s all good. My family are big meat eaters as well. Im, like, the rebel or whatever.” I finish it off with a decided awkward laugh.
Gerard looks at me, then the pizza, then me again, then the pizza, as if he was deciding which he would rather have.
He then got up, shunned Mikey off the couch, and sat next to me.
“Oh I love this bit” he finishes.

And not another word was said that night.