Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Frerard)

..-. .. ...- .

I counted hours and then minutes until I could finally go to the coffee shop. For the last time, I checked if my apartment was tidy enough and then I went to take a shower. I dried up my hair and put on a dark blue shirt along with some black jeans. I looked at myself in the mirror and then I was ready to go.

I got to the building just as Frank was leaving. I walked closer to him and greeted him by wrapping my arms around his waist. He kissed me right away and put his hands on either side of my head.

"Hey." He breathed out when we pulled away.

"Hi." I said and smiled. I took him by the hand and we started walking towards my apartment.

"You look very handsome in this shirt." Frank commented. I looked at him and laughed.

"Thank you." I said and just then I noticed what T-shirt he was wearing. "I have to tell you, you have great taste in music." I told him. He looked down at his chest.

"Oh. Yeah, I kinda love Bowie you know." He giggled and all the way to my place we talked about Bowie, Prince and other favorite musicians. Frank told me that Purple Rain was the first song he learned to play on guitar. It wasn't a long walk from the coffee shop and soon we were in front of the apartment building. We went upstairs and Frank's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Welcome to my home." I smiled as I opened my door. We stepped inside and he took a look around. He cried out in surprise when he saw the painting that stood in the corner of my living room.

"The pond." He laughed. "You did it from memory?" He asked me. I nodded and took off my jacket. "It's perfect." He watched the canvas amazed.

"Well, it's not done yet, but..." I trailed off.

"Show me more?" Frank turned to look at me doing puppy dog eyes.

"Sure." I smiled and opened one of my cabinets to take out some papers and a few canvases. He picked up every piece carefully and studied it. The brush strokes, the texture of each paper, sometimes commenting on the art.

"I like this one." He said holding up a brown paper. I immediately knew what it was. I remembered the day I drew that pretty clearly. It was a sketch of my grandmother. I drew it from memory when my mom told me grandma died. She was sitting in an armchair wearing her infamous sweater. "This picture is so...raw. Is she close to you?" He asked and I almost shed a tear.

"She was. It's my grandmother, it was her who encouraged me to draw." I explained and Frank quickly started talking about another picture, probably sensing I didn't really want to talk about my grandma.

"You are so talented. I can only wish to be as good as you are." He laughed.

"I bet there are things you're better at than I am." I smiled at him. He shook his head and looked me in the eyes. We kissed briefly and I held his hand as he was flipping pages in my old journal. "Which movie do you want to see?" I asked, nose buried in his hair.

"Hmm, do you have some superhero movies?" He asked me and continued to look at the drawings.

"I do actually. I have quite a few." I chuckled and kissed the side of his head. "Superman, Batman-"

"Yes, Batman!" He whipped his head to look at me, his eyes the size of the moon.

"Sure." I laughed and got up to find the DVD.

-- .- -.- . -- . ..-. . . .-.. .-.. .. -.- . .. .- -- -... .-. . .- - .... .. -. --.

We watched about three Batman movies all the while cuddling on the couch. Before I even put on the first movie I asked Frank if he wanted something to eat but he said that he's had something at work. But as the evening went on we both seemed to get a little hungry so when the third movie ended I got up to find some snacks and Frank went to the toilet.