The Red Ones Make Me Fly

“Gerard! Hey! Did you find it okay?” The shorter, younger man grinned widely. “Yeah, thanks” Gerard nodded. Frank stepped aside to let Gerard enter, straight into the living room which looked bigger than Gerard’s, even though it probably wasn’t. “I don’t know what you were talking about, man, this place is so tidy!”
Frank laughed and he couldn’t help grinning along with him. Gerard removed his messenger bag from where it hung over his shoulder and placed it casually against the side of the couch closest to him as Frank made his way towards (what he assumed was) the kitchen, offering Gerard a drink. “I’ve only got beer, wine, and some-or-other cooler that my buddy left here, that dick. And if you’re not drinking then I’ve got some Coke, orange juice, water…?”
“Um, I’ll just have a beer I guess... thanks” He stood aimlessly in the doorway of the kitchen and watched the short man attempt to reach a bottle opener that balanced on the top shelf, standing on the tips of his toes and stretching his arms up, his t-shirt riding up a little. Gerard chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, obviously not intending to help. Frank spun around in defeat, folding his arms and leaning his ass against the counter, “Thanks for the help” Gerard just chuckled and Frank stuck his tongue out at him. Gerard walked over and effortlessly took the bottle opener off the shelf and handed it to Frank with a smile on his face that he supposed Frank would see as sarcastic, but it wasn’t. It was a genuine smile, something that felt strange on his face. He wasn’t used to smiling, at least not genuinely. Frank was opening the beers when the doorbell rang.
Frank grinned as he looked up, “Oh good, they’re here!”