You're Weird, I Like You • Frerard ✓

XXII

*FRANK'S P.O.V*

"When did you paint your nails?"

Gerard shrugs and looks over at me instead of the window. He squints behind his large, brown aviators. "Found a black Sharpie in my carry on." He states, turning back to the car's window.

After what happened in the washroom, Gerard seemed more at ease and less bored. Now we were in the car, driving to my father's house to meet the step mom.

My boyfriend looked at me again and moved a hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. "When did you get so gorgeous?" He asks with a smile. I feel crimson rise to my cheeks as I try to look down, only to have Gerard stop me with a finger lifting my chin.

"Shit happens," I whisper, watching the smile grow across his face, realizing I had quoted him. I lean in to kiss him but my father clears his throat. I oh so gracefully fell back.

"Now that we are asking questions," My father said, looking at us from the small mirror hanging on the roof of the car. "Frank, when did you change your pants?"

I immediately flush, remembering why I had to change my pants. I looked down at Gerard's grey sweatpants. They were pooling around my ankles because of how short I was, and double knotted around the waist to keep then up. Gerard bit his lip, trying to keep for laughing.

"Um, uh, dad..." I tried to come up with an excuse quickly, seeing how my dad's eyes were basically staring into my soul from the driver's seat. I bit my lip as I hear my dad sigh.

"Do I even want to know?" Dad says with a smile in his voice. I give a small one back.

"I don't think so."

"Alright then," He chirps, letting his voice drown out with a low exhale. "They look good on you, anyways."

I beam and look at Gerard, who was chuckling softly.

"I think so, too." Gerard whispers, bringing me close, finally being able to get that kiss.

.+*+.+*+.+*+.+*+.+*+.+*+.+*+.

We stop in front of a large, white house. The sun shined against the house, reflecting the blue ocean not too far away. There was two small gates in front of the house and the door had large, wooden decoration done on it. Pink and red flowers were planted in the flower beds attached to the windows, contrasting in colour.

"Wow," I accidentally said out loud as we got out. Florida was much warmer than New Jersey. I took off the hoodie that I was wearing folded it over my arm.

My dad shoots me a proud grin. "I'm glad you like it." He walked up to the front door and whipped out his key. Gerard came out of the car and squinted up at the sun. I immediately grew cold.

"Dad?" I asked, biting my lip as my dad looked up at me, cocking an eyebrow. "Carly is, um, okay with me being... Y'know?" I made a between Gerard and I, who was now next to me. My dad smiles.

"Of course, she understands. Trust me, if it was any sort of a problem, I wouldn't have brought you here." He said nonchalantly, trying to sound convincing. He turned back to the door as I began to frown.

He wouldn't have brought me with him if his fiancée was a homophobe? I was his son! I have never been on a trip alone with him (as alone you can get with Gerard, I mean) and I have never got to see his life outside my mom and I. There were so many questions in the air.

The soft click of the door unlocking snapped me out of my thoughts. The door was thrown open and we walked in. The first thing you saw was the large living room. There were several white couches and single chairs that lined the room. The white was mixed with a soft brown and a hint of pink and orange from the flowers on the coffee table. In the hutch in front of everything laid a small television, turned to some kind of infomercial on mute.

Around the living room, in the left side, were large windows, decorated with floor to ceiling molding. On the right side was a large set of windows and a sliding, clear door. Inside the small room was a kitchen.

It was a particularly large kitchen, with a long island and cabinets everywhere. It has a beautiful antic look to it. The white was slightly faded and chipping, as if someone scratched each and every part of it with their nails.

Frank walked into the house, along with his father and his boyfriend. He caught a view of outside.

Through the trees and the bushes, you could see the beach clearly. People with multi coloured umbrella's and cheap lawn chairs lined up in the sand, watching their children play I'm the ocean with their toy shovels and beach balls.

I felt excited. I couldn't wait to get out there.

My dad chimes in. "You can go explore the house, if you want. I don't know if Carly is home or not."

I nod my head, grabbing Gerard's arm and pulling him with me, only to have my dad stop me. I cock an eyebrow.

"I need to speak to Gerard,"

Gerard sends me a nervous glance and I send a 'haha, suck for you!' Look back. Gerard follows my dad into the kitchen.

I begin my journey by walking up the stairs, which were long and a pasty white like the rest of the house. I jog most of the way up them.

I come into a small hallway. There are 4 doors. One was closed, so I was not willing to see what was behind it. I go into the first door open. It's a large bedroom.

A small wooden bed is in the centre, with a few small chairs around it. 1 of the 4 walls is a head to toe window with a beautiful view of the ocean and palm trees.

I back out if that room and walk to the next open door, only to become distracted by the last door. I peak inside.

Big and small are lined the walls, as if painted. An large, half-done portrait of the beach is on a stand in the middle of the room. The window is open, letting in a cool breeze, an the radio is turned on to some sort of music Frank has never really listened to.

"Wow," Frank says in awe.

"Thanks!" A voice comes from behind Frank, causing him to jump. He turns around to see a woman, in her 30's at least, with a pair of pigtails. She was wearing a pair of navy blue overalls and a blue Wolverine shirt underneath (that was probably my dad's).

"Oh, um, I'm sorry. I heard the music playing and I looked inside and it was amazing so I wanted to check it out." I say in a breath, biting my lip after.

The woman chuckles. "That's perfectly alright. You're Frank, right?" I nod and she beams.

"Well, I'm Carly, the step mom-ster."