Fickle Reticence

“You look like a penguin,” Mikey says.

“What? Seriously? Dude, fuck you, I’m not even wearing a suit!” Frank replies. He’s wearing his only pair of pants that aren’t six years old, wrought full of holes, and so faded that they’re just grey. Frank had a hard time even finding the pants buried under his bed, because he’s not used to wearing anything that hasn’t been through hell and back again. These pants haven’t exactly been broken in yet either so they’re chafing uncomfortably.

“You look stupid any time of the day, it doesn’t matter to me what you’re wearing. Though it’s that awkward little waddle you’re doing that make you look like a penguin.”

“Is it noticeable? These pants are as stiff as Anne Robinson’s face.”

“You look like you’ve got a wedgie,” Mikey says.

“Well that’s because I fucking do, I don’t know why I even bought these pants. They make my ass look nice, but it’s not worth the struggle,” Frank says.

“Wear different pants,” Mikey suggests like it’s the obvious thing to do.

“But I want to look like I put effort into this! I mean, what if I wear jeans as old as time itself, Gerard will think I don’t care at all!”

“Gerard is not superficial enough to look at the age of your pants. At least, probably not,” Mikey says, “though maybe don’t wear those old converse.”

“What? What’s wrong with my shoes?” Frank asks, defensively.

“They’re trashy. It looks like you’re a little kid who steps in as many puddles as he can, just to splash the water around,” Mikey tells him.

“But I am a little kid who steps in puddles,” Frank says, “puddles are fun.”

“You are too immature to even breathe,” Mikey rolls his eyes, “and why the hell am I giving you fashion advice to go on a date with Gerard? This is weird. I’m supposed to grill you and tell you not to hurt Gee, because I’m the overbearing brother.”

“Please, Mikes,” Frank snorts, “you’re about as threatening as a small furry woodland creature.”

“We have both seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Small woodland creatures can be ferocious,” Mikey says.

“Mikey, you’re like fucking David Bowie, you are made out of toothpicks and glitter glue,” Frank says, “the only damage you have ever done to anything is the multiple sweatshirts you own, with holes in the arms where your elbow poked a hole in the fabric.”

Mikey frowns and then looks at his arm, “I do have rather pointy elbows don’t I?”

“You’re only just now noticing?”

“I could stab you with my pointy elbows, Frank.”

Frank looks over at Mikey who’s lying on his bed with his laptop on his chest, in what has to be the most thoroughly uncomfortable position known to man, and raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’d have to stand up to do that, and I’m guessing that you’re not going to be doing any standing up anytime soon.”

“It’s a Friday night, I have no obligation to stand up,” Mikey says.

“I see that,” Frank replies, and tries to somehow tame his hair. He doesn’t particularly care though so he combs it out using his fingers, and then messes it up anyway afterwards.

Frank sighs at his reflection in the mirror on the inside of his tiny wardrobe, and decides that he looks good enough. Hopefully his pants aren’t that obviously starchy, and Mikey is just being an asshole. The latter is definitely true, but he doesn’t know if that’s why Mikey said he looks like a penguin.

“How do I look?” Frank asks.

Mikey only barely registers Frank saying anything, and doesn’t look up before he says,
“stupid.”

“Okay great, that’s what I was aiming for,” Frank says sardonically.

“Well you achieved it.”

“I hate you, Mikey,” Frank says, “I’m taking out Gerard, maybe you should provide some type of input?”

“I don’t want any part of you dating Gee. I want to pretend it’s not happening at all,” Mikey says.

“But if it goes well will you accept that I like Gerard and not disapprove?”

“I don’t disapprove now, but I’m not about to throw confetti and hang streamers,” Mikey replies.

“I’m not asking you to, but you look so sullen.”

“I always look sullen. I have a face as stiff as Anne Robinson’s only I haven’t done the whole plastic surgery thing. Though I don’t know, my face isn’t nearly as rigid as those pants.”

“Can we stop talking about my pants!” Frank asks, “It took like five minutes to cram myself into these fucking pants, I am not going to try to take them off now.”

“You asked for it when you pranced around like you have metal bars on your legs. You, my friend, look like a young Forrest Gump.”

Frank scowls and then shakes his head, “I don’t like you, I’m going to leave, and I’ll be sure to tell Gerard that you’re a prick.”

“Gee already knows!” Mikey yells at him. Frank shakes his head and makes for the door before Mikey calls him back into the room.

“What do you want?” Frank scolds.

“I just want you to take into consideration that Gerard is identifying as a girl today,” Mikey says.

“That means I use girl pronouns, right?” Frank asks, and Mikey nods affirmatively, “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“You’d fucking better,” Mikey says, and Frank understands what he means by that even without the words behind it.

Frank closes the door behind him and then rushes down the hall. He checks his watch before leaving the building to see that he’s either going to be early or right on time, and he doesn’t know which he would rather be. If he gets there right on time than it’ll seem like he planned things ahead too excessively, and if he gets there too early he’ll seem too eager. He could wait a little while, but then it’ll seem like he doesn’t care enough, and that’s the last thing he wants Gerard to think.

Frank decides that punctuality may be the only thing he can actually bring to the table, so he just heads out of the building right away. The air is still cold and stings his face, but he endures it until he makes it across campus to the right building.

He’d managed to straggle together a grand total of $27.34 which he is actually quite proud of. He did not think he’d find more than ten bucks by looking through his pant pockets. Gerard’s not allowed to order a drink or dessert or anything, but he can’t afford to take them anywhere expensive anyway. He has a big night planned. The most he can afford is a high class subway. That’s better than eating like a raccoon though.

Mikey doesn’t have to know the details. Frank may have exaggerated the amount of money he has, and as long as no one tells Mikey that he’s taking Gerard out for essentially fast-food, then everything should be fine. Gerard certainly isn’t as picky as Mikey is.

When Frank walks into the hall, he finds it dimly lit as always. Gerard’s door, the only one without any décor, looks the same as it always has. He takes in a deep breath, because he really shouldn’t be this nervous for a date, but he is anyway.

He tries to evaluate himself by looking down, and runs a hand through his hair, but he doesn’t know what all to do. Frank decides to pretend not to care, and then knocks quietly on the door.

Frank hears some rummaging around on the other side and bites his lip with anticipation.

“Ow, shit,” he hears from the other side of the door, and Frank smiles a little bit.

The doorknob turns and Frank takes in a last deep breath, before the door opens in front of him. Frank’s looking at his feet when the door opens and he looks up to see Gerard in front of him.

It’s a good thing he took a deep breath, because he almost has the wind knocked out of him when he sees Gee standing there.

“You, um... sorry,” Frank mumbles, almost incoherently.

“What?” Gee asks, “Too much?”

“No, it’s just that... well you look really gorgeous,” Frank says awkwardly and then blushes.

Really, he doesn’t know what else to say. Gerard looks like more than a million bucks. Priceless. More than priceless.

Frank has a fleeting moment where he realizes that he’s falling too hard far too quickly. This is their first date, he should not be preparing his vows yet.

Gerard looks, for all intense and purposes, like a really sensationally pretty girl. She has a black pencil dress that wasn’t necessarily made for Gerard’s body type, but it’s been adjusted to accentuate Gerard flatteringly. Frank wasn’t really sure what he was expecting though. He’s seen Gerard in a dress a few times, and it was amazing each time, but right now it’s everything Frank’s ever dreamed of.

Gee got all dolled up, and probably spent way too long on her makeup, but Frank thinks she’s beautiful. That’s not to say that she wouldn’t be gorgeous without makeup, but the fact is that she looks good with it too.

Frank has to stop himself from gawking, because he’s just really happy that this is happening to him. His life is frantic, and stressful, but he’s content in it, because he gets to be here with Gerard right now. He knows he really does feel too much for Gee, given how fresh the relationship is, if that’s even the proper word yet, but Frank can’t help it. Frank likes Gerard. A lot.

“You sure it’s not too much?” Gerard asks, “Because I could change, it’ll only take a minute.”

Frank shakes his head, “no, you’re fine. You’re dressed to break a few hearts, but you’re really, just wow.”

Frank feels like a cliché, boring version of one of those movies where the girl walks down the stairs in her prom dress, and all the boy can say is that she looks beautiful. He understands what that must be like though now, being in that situation, because there’s nothing else he can say given the circumstances. Those scenes may be damn cliché, but they are also really accurate.

“Yeah?” She asks, smiling.

Frank had a lot easier time grasping all of this than even he’d thought. It’s the same Gerard, no matter what they wear. Same voice, same mind, same sense of humor, just different gender. It’s kind of crazy in Frank’s head to realize just how similar the two binary genders are. He’d always seen them as complete opposites, but really, there’s not much dividing them mentally.

There are some subtle things he notices in Gerard’s character, but only because he was overanalyzing things. Gee holds herself differently, a little more proper when she’s feeling like a girl. When identifying as a boy, there’s more of a slouch, and a sloppier way of walking.

Frank loves every nuance he notices more than the last.

“Gerard, you’re dazzling,” Frank says confidently.

Gee smiles, and tries to hide the blush creeping into her cheeks.

Gerard looks at the ground nervously and says, “Shall we go then?”

Frank nods excitedly, “yeah, sure.”

Gerard grabs the door and closes it after leaving the small room. Frank wishes he could enunciate what he wants to say, but he can’t, so he just smiles and looks down at his feet. By comparison, Gerard is a Fabergé egg and Frank is a cracked rotten one. Though he is okay with that, because Gerard is practically radiant, and it would be a crime to compare the way she looks to anything.

“You’re pants look really uncomfortable,” Gerard notes.

Frank snorts out laughter and nods, “yeah, so I’ve been told.”