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Gerard hated shopping. Hated it. Unless he deathly needed something, he avoided it at all costs. Ripped pants? Pffft. He could stitch like a seamstress. Paint on his good shirt? Whatever, he never liked to look perfect anyway.
But then there were his boots. His favourite army boots. He'd had them since he was sixteen, and at twenty-one he could still fit into them. Well, that was until last night, of course.
Sure, they were scuffed, and faded, and the laces had been replaced by thick string long ago, but Gerard fucking loved those boots. They were like, a comfort blanket. Plus, his grandma had bought them for him.
So last night, when he'd pushed his right foot into the repective boot a little too forcefully and the sole had burst away, Gerard felt a little part of him die.
"But they can't be replaced," he whined to Mikey as he dragged him down the busy main street.
Mikey rolled his eyes. "Gerard. They're boots. We'll get you some new ones."
Gerard bitched and muttered as his little brother dragged him into Famous Footwear.
"Get some Vans or something," Mikey said, shoving him in the direction of brightly coloured footwear.
Gerard fixed his younger brother with a look, before he slumped his shoulders and made his way to a wall of shoes. He'd only been looking for a few minutes when someone appeared at his shoulder.
"Hi!"
Gerard turned to look at the smaller boy stood next to him, a big smile on his face. He had a red faux hawk and a few tattoos scattered along his arms, peeking out from his uniform polo shirt.
"Can I help you?" He asked brightly, before he chewed on a thin metal hoop in his lip.
"Uh...shoes..." Gerard said, unable to take his eyes away from...Frank! his name tag read.
"You're in luck," Frank said. "We sell a lot of shoes here."
Gerard felt a blush crawl up his neck. "Uh, yeah..."
He could hear Mikey snickering away in the corner as he handled a pair of leopard print converse, and cursed his little brother silently.
"Anything in particular you're looking for?" Frank asked, still smiling.
"Uh...I like boots?"
Frank cocked his head, still smiling, and nodded. "I can show you boots."
Gerard followed after him, doing his best not stare at Frank's ass, as he mentally chastised himself for not wearing something that wasn't stained in bleach and paint. He was running his hands through his hair when Frank stopped suddenly inside a small alcove, and turned to Gerard, still smiling.
"Boots," he said, one hand splaying out. "Any particular brand?"
Gerard panicked, and shook his head. "Uh...just boots?"
Frank gave a small laugh. "Hate shopping?"
Gerard sighed. "Like you would not believe."
Frank nodded, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I hate it too."
"Yet you work in retail?" Gerard raised and eyebrow.
Frank shrugged, and motioned for Gerard to take a seat on a small bench. "Pays for guitar."
"Nice," Gerard smiled. Cute and musical. Hello there...
Frank had a look around the alcove, before handing Gerard a black Dr. Marten boot. "Black's your colour. Size ten." he said matter-of-factly.
"Thanks," Gerard mumbled, pulling off his old Converse boots he'd been forced to wear.
"What's your name?" Frank blurted out, just as Gerard had pulled the black boot on.
Gerard looked up, eyes a little wide.
"Sorry," Frank blushed.
Gerard shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Gerard."
Frank grinned widely and nodded, pointing to his badge, "Frank."
Gerard raised his eyesbrows in amusement, and nodded. "I figured."
They smiled at eachother for a few seconds before Frank asked, "How's the boot?"
"Huh? Oh! Yeah...a little snug..."
Frank bit his lip and nodded, taking the boot back and disappearing off through a staff only door.
Gerard sat for a few minutes, looking around him, when his eyes fell on two members of staff by the counter, watching him with an amused smile. He gave them a confused look before Frank appeared in front of him again...brandishing a pair of black army boots.
"Now there look more like you," he said, pushing them into Gerard's hands.
Gerard held the boots in his hands for a few seconds, before he looked at Frank, eyes wide, completely serious, and said, "Marry me."
Frank blushed, and put a hand over his eyes, giggling lightly as Gerard pulled the boots on, and stood up.
Sure, they felt a little stiffer than his beloved boots his grandma had got him, but a few months of wear and tear and these babies would be perfect.
"I don't know about marriage," Frank said as he pushed the boots into a black box when Gerard was pulling his Converse back on. "But I can do dinner?"
Gerard looked up from his Yoda socks to meet Frank's eyes, his face heating up.
"Uh...sure...that's...yeah."
Frank smiled, and nudged Gerard's knee, motioning for him to follow him to the counter.
Frank pushed the boxed boots onto the counter, ignoring the smirk from...Pete!, the name tag read.
"Anything else?" Pete smiled across the counter, running the barcode scanner over the code on the side of the box. Gerard shook his head, pulling out his wallet, watching as Frank leaned over the counter, ripping a strip of reciept away, before pulling a pen from his pocket and scribbling on it.
"Here," he smiled, shoving it in Gerard's bag as Pete handed him his change. "Call me."
Gerard bit his lip, blushing and nodding, before Pete turned and said, "Okay, you gonna actually go for your break now? You got a date, now scram."
Frank shoved at Pete before he threw a smile at Gerard again, waved, and bounced off towards the staff door again.
-
"You get new shoes?" Mikey asked as Gerard appeared behind him, giving his little brother a worried look as he noticed the pink heels in his hand.
"Uh, yeah...new boots..." He replied, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. "And a date, apparently..."
Mikey looked at him, and shrugged. "New shoes, new boyfriend...successful shopping trip in my opinion..."