if i love you, is that a fact or a weapon

amanda. 30s. procrastinating writer the pitt | kingdon | all the romcoms

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 14 | cake | 113/113

“I think more cake went on the floor than in her mouth,” Frank says quietly as they tiptoe from the nursery.

Mel laughs as they reach the living room, and then curls into him as they settle on the couch.

“Pretty great day,” he mumbles around a yawn. Any kid’s birthday party is tiring, but a one-year-old’s is next level.

“Pretty great kid,” she whispers.

He grins. “Kinda makes you wanna do it again.”

“Yeah?” She doesn't sound surprised, like maybe she'd already known he'd been thinking about it. Like maybe she had been too.

“I mean… not right this second. But… soon?”

Mel's lips press lazily against his stubble.

“Soon is good.”

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 13 | smoke | 295/295

“I swear, I'm okay,” Frank insists for what has to be the tenth time.

“Mr. Langdon, we've just gotta make sure you're actually okay.” The guy standing at the foot of the gurney, clearly supervising, raises his voice loud enough for Frank to hear him over the crash of other voices and beeping monitors in the room.

He's a goddamn trauma alert. Ten years as a firefighter, he's never gotten so much as a scratch. But with how bad the fire was, he's probably lucky he’s not worse.

Slowly, the noise dies down. He feels a little fuzzy, like maybe there are pain meds on board that he wasn't aware of. The guy at the end of the bed leaves, the hectic pace settles, and that's when he finally focuses on her.

Her badge says her name is Melissa.

“Hi,” she says brightly. She's bandaging something he can't feel on his arm. He should probably be more worried about that. “You feeling okay, Lieutenant?”

He's confused for a second, but drags his hand along the county emblem on his chest pocket, his rank right below it.

He tries to smile, but it doesn't quite work. It probably comes out as more of a smirk. She deserves a real smile, he's sure of it.

“Yeah,” he whispers. His throat feels raspy, a consequence of too much smoke inhalation.

“You're very lucky,” she tells him, fingers deftly bandaging a new spot. “And apparently very brave.”

He laughs a little, a cough wheezing out.

“Maybe brave, definitely stupid,” he whispers. That makes her smile, and he feels like he's floating in a way he knows has little to do with drugs.

This should probably be the worst night of his life.

He's pretty sure it’s actually the best.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 12 | gold | 340/340

tw for memory loss/dementia

“Mel, honey?”

Frank lets his voice echo down the hall. She likes to hear him before he rounds the corner. She once told him it reminded her of hearing him across the ER, how her body would vibrate at the mere possibility of seeing him.

He's pretty sure he laughed when she told him. He'd give anything to go back to those days.

“Mel?” He says quietly, when he reaches the door. It's open. It’s almost always open these days. When once Mel had craved quiet, space, she does better knowing she isn't alone now.

When she looks up from the book she's reading (a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice) she smiles. He immediately feels better.

“Hi, Frank,” she grins, tilting her forehead up for a simple kiss.

Today is a good day. They're becoming more and more rare.

“Hey, sweetheart. How's your morning?”

“Okay,” she says quietly. She doesn't always have the words, but he knows her every expression by now. She doesn't need to say a word.

“I brought you something,” he tells her, holding out a small box. He sets it in front of her when she doesn't immediately reach for it. “It's a gift for you,” he prompts her.

“For me?” She asks quietly, her voice a little unsure.

“Absolutely,” he says. “It's a special day, because I'm here with you.”

“Oh, okay.” His heart sinks a little as she opens it. Today might be a good day, but these days, good is measured on a much different scale.

“These are lovely pictures,” she says quietly, stroking her fingers over the open halves of a simple gold locket. “These people look very happy.”

“They are,” he whispers.

“Frank?” She asks, and he tries to still his trembling fingers. “Who are they?”

He can't bear to tell her that those smiling people are the two of them, only fifty years ago today.

She might remember his name some days, but he knows she no longer recognizes him as the man she married all those years ago.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 11 | surprise | 186/186

warning for implied infidelity; Abby POV

The doorbell rings at 9:30 on a Wednesday and Abby opens the door, attention still focused on Tanner who’s currently trying to scale the fireplace.

“Tanner, would you stop?” She calls, before focusing on the woman standing at the door. She doesn't look familiar at all.

But the little boy on her hip, maybe a year old, looks so familiar it makes Abby's heart sink, and she immediately puts her guard up.

“Can I help you?” She asks, trying to sound more friendly than she feels.

“Sorry, I– uh, does Frank Langdon still live here?”

Abby sighs. “Let me guess. When you saw him last, he said he was moving out. He said we were getting a divorce.”

The woman flinches, hand moving up to stroke the baby’s dark hair. She doesn't answer. She doesn't have to.

“Frank!” She bellows into the house. “You have visitors.”

When her husband appears at the door, he has some decency to look surprised.

But mostly, he almost immediately looks happy.

“Mel?” He asks, voice more gentle than Abby has ever heard it.

She should be surprised.

She's not.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 10 | feast | 301/301

warning for infidelity

Abby likes to deliver big news with food.

When she dropped out of her Master’s program, she sat Frank down in front of his favorite movie, and hot popcorn in hand, broke the news.

When the kids got into the fancy preschool they couldn't actually afford, she waited until he was pulling his worn-out credit card from his wallet at the expensive sushi place to tell him.

So when she texts, “Making a big dinner, try to get out on time!” he sighs loud enough that Mel, nestled against his chest, looks up.

“What's wrong?” Her voice is sleepy the way it only gets after they've spent all day in bed together, touching and laughing and napping in turn.

She sounds relaxed, exactly how he feels when he's with her. And he doesn't want to ever leave.

“I have to leave earlier than usual tonight,” he says.

Abby thinks he's at work, and there are only so many shifts he can “work overtime” before she catches on.

“Nooo.” Mel always draws out the whine when she really doesn't want him to go. It's so fucking cute he can't stand it.

“I know, baby. I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaning down to press another to the tiny swell of her tummy. “And I love you, too.”

When he walks into his house a while later, Abby immediately ushers him to the dining room.

She’s lit candles, has music playing, and there's a feast of his favorite foods on the table. She sits down and looks up at him expectantly, but he can't force himself to sit.

Whatever it is, it's big, and it's expensive.

“Just tell me,” he whispers.

She frowns a little, the way she does when he's said something wrong.

“I'm pregnant, Frank.”

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 09 | gift | g | 446/446

3 gifts Frank gives Mel + 1 they give each other.

1.

As a rule, Mel doesn't like the hospital cafeteria. The food isn't great, it's always loud, and sometimes there's a smell.

But when she forgets her lunch on a Tuesday in May, she braves it anyway.

She's just picked out a sandwich and a bruised-looking apple when she all but runs into Frank.

“Oh, hi!” She says, surprised. She was pretty sure he'd left an hour ago.

“Hey,” he grins. There's a bag of chips in his hand as she trails him to the cash register.

“I thought you left,” she says, reaching for her wallet.

“Nah, I've got a meeting down the street in a little while, didn't want to go all the way home. Hey,” he greets the cashier. “Add her food to mine,” he says, just smiling over at her as Mel tries to protest.

It's the first thing he ever buys her, and the first of many meals they eat together.

2.

“Frank, these are way too expensive.”

“Don't worry about it,” he tells her, reaching for the box to cut the seal before handing it back to her. “Try them on.”

The pale blue headphones are actually comfy, and not too heavy around her ears. They're worlds better than her old pair. And when she flicks a switch on the side, all noise fades away.

“These are perfect,” she says, fully aware she's probably yelling when Frank’s eyes crinkle in a happy laugh.

As his laugh lines disappear, she watches the shape of his lips as they move.

“Hmm?” She asks, slipping one ear off.

“I said, I love you, Mel. Happy birthday.”

3.

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Frank laughs, running a shaky hand through his hair as he looks up at her. “Mel, I promise, I've never been more sure of a single thing in my life.”

“But you… we… it's only been a year,” she says, the words feeling like lead on her tongue. There's a buzzing in her head as she replays his question.

“Mel, I knew on our first date I was going to ask you to marry me. Really, I'm still shocked I didn't do it that night.”

She laughs, tears pooling and smudging her glasses.

“Good tears? Bad tears?” He looks a little stricken as she reaches for his hands.

“The best,” she assures him. “Yes, Frank. Let's get married.”

The ring is simple, and he's added a thin purple silicone band in the box too. She wears them both, just because she can.

+1.

“She's beautiful,” Frank whispers. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” Mel smiles. “I literally couldn't have done it alone.”

Their baby girl is born on a Tuesday in May, and she's perfect.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 08 | midnight | 323/323

Mel King knows she's a good kid. She's a respectful daughter, a doting sister, an excellent student.

She's also bored and restless and yearning for adventure. Living in a small town is all she's ever known, and that’s okay.

That is, until Frank Langdon stares her down across the library table, their science books spread around them halfway through a tutoring session, and asks, “what do you do for fun?"

And she has no answer. Or at least, not one that doesn't feel slightly embarrassing to tell the cute senior she's only been tutoring a month.

“There's not much to do here, really, anyway,” she says, shrugging.

Frank shakes his head. “There's a ton of stuff to do. You've just gotta go find it. Place comes alive at night,” he says, near-conspiratorially.

And somehow, that conversation spirals into Frank almost demanding he get to show her the side of their small town she's never seen before.

So, despite her years of being a good kid, of never getting in trouble, she smushes pillows into a Mel-shaped lump on her bed like she'd seen in a movie once. And she sneaks out her bedroom window, running quietly to where Frank's old Jeep is idling, lights-off, at the curb.

It's two minutes past midnight when she slides into the passenger seat, and Mel's secretly impressed he's on time.

“Mel King, are you ready for your life to change?”

Somehow, even in the dark of night, his eyes are shining so bright. She has to swallow before she can answer.

“I think so,” she says quietly, and then a little louder when he smiles, “yes.”

—

Her life doesn't actually change that night. Nothing monumental happens.

They drive for hours. They don't even stop anywhere. They just talk like they've known each other for years.

The town isn’t really any different than any other day of her life.

But she feels more alive than she ever has.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 07 | karaoke | 420/420

rated m

Frank’s hand is about half an inch away from slipping under Mel’s skirt when she stops him.

“Wait,” Mel whispers. “What if someone sees?”

Frank smirks and leans in closer, so his lips are at her ear.

“That's half the fun, baby.”

“What if they hear?”

His smirk grows. He exhales slowly, letting his breath ghost her jaw. He wants to lean in, kiss her, ease the nerves he knows she's feeling, but he won't.

“Don't think that's likely. It's horrifyingly loud in here,” he says instead.

Emphasis on horrifyingly, currently. The person currently commanding the stage is singing in such a dramatic, screeching fashion Frank's already decided he'll never accept another invite to karaoke again, no matter how sweetly Mel asks. “But, I mean, if you wanna get loud, I'm all for that,” he jokes.

He watches the way her breath hitches, the small gulp she swallows down.

And then she's pressing her fingers to his wrist and putting just enough pressure to slide his hand higher, up under her skirt.

He grins, and his brain immediately short circuits when his fingers meet her soaked panties. He's been dragging his fingers along her thigh for half an hour in the corner of the booth, in the back of the bar, really just absentmindedly. This hadn't been the goal, really, but if Mel wants it… he'll give it to her.

(He'll give her whatever she wants.)

She's biting her lip already, and he's barely touched her. She's always so responsive, so eager to please and so happy to let him lose himself in her.

He tries, but his fingers can't quite get the angle he knows she needs.

“Slip your panties off,” he whispers, voice desperate to his own ears.

Mel’s eyes go wide, but to his delight, she does it quickly. He shoves them in his pocket while two fingers slide quickly inside her.

She breathes out a silent gasp, and he strokes up into her in reward.

A song later, her thighs are shaking around his hand.

“You can relax, Mel. I've got you. I want you to come,” he says, but he isn't even sure she hears him.

It works, though, and he's dragging slick fingers down her inner thigh just a minute later.

“So good, baby,” he whispers.

When her name is called for karaoke a couple minutes later, he grins when she stands on still-shaky legs.

Frank shoves his hand deep in his pocket while she sings, his fingers tangling rough around her wet panties.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 06 | laughter | 325/325

rated m | warnings for infidelity

Frank doesn't remember the last time his bedroom heard laughter.

He and Abby used to laugh together all the time, everywhere, but especially in bed. It wasn't always during sex, but Frank liked that laughter best. He loved the feel of her body shaking against his, the rasp of her voice in the dark. It was when he felt most connected to her.

Of course, they don't laugh together anymore at all. Not when the kids do something funny, not when whatever random sitcom that's drowning out their silence actually lands a good joke.

And, well, they'd need to be having sex to laugh through it.

He might miss the laughter the most, of all the ways their marriage has changed.

It's why, when he tells a horribly corny joke at work on a random Thursday, and Mel laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard, he feels a little drunk with power.

And he absolutely gets a little hard. He's careful not to make her laugh too much for the rest of the day, but that doesn't mean he stops thinking about it for a second.

He thinks about the way Mel laughed while he showers later, for just a moment too long, and ends up frantically jerking off while Abby sleeps just outside the bathroom.

It's surprising, but it shouldn't be. Making Mel laugh has always brightened his day. And clearly he's missing intimacy at home. So if he amps up the silly jokes, so be it.

Frank starts cataloguing what makes Mel really laugh, ranks how immediately his mind turns to sex each time.

When he starts imagining her laughter in his bedroom at night, he knows he needs to stop.

But he can't. He doesn't.

He doesn't stop for months. Not until Mel is laughing underneath him, breathless and gloriously naked.

Abby will be home in twenty minutes. He knows Mel needs to go, but he already misses her laughter.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 05 | speech | t | 316/316

Frank isn't one for giving speeches, which usually surprises people.

He likes to talk. On good days he's been called charismatic. In the year plus that he's spent working on recovery, he's become pretty comfortable sharing his emotions.

He just isn't a fan of doing all those things in public.

But when Mel comes to him, quieter, more nervous than he's grown used to seeing, he can't say no.

He wants to, his chest aches with the need to shout, to make her hear how desperately he can't possibly do this.

But he says yes, of course. Because it's Mel.

He spends four days staring at a blank page, and five more after that second-guessing every single pen stroke.

He puts on a tie (new, cheap enough he won't feel guilty throwing it away when he can't stomach wearing it again), and the aftershave Mel once complimented. He stands when he's supposed to, in front of dozens of people he works with and even more he doesn't know.

And he reads words he wrote about Mel, about the best friend he's ever had, the first face he looks for during a hectic shift. And because he’s learning to be a good man, because he loves Mel, he talks about the man sitting beside her.

Her husband. Who probably won't throw away the tie he's wearing, and who gets to wear a ring that Frank knows Mel inscribed a sweet message into.

When he's done, his hand is shaking, adrenaline spiking heavier than any trauma. Usually it eases when Mel smiles at him. But when she hugs him now, whispers a quiet I love you, her smile pressed against his neck, he feels sick.

He's used to loss. It comes with the job, and he's self-inflicted a ton on himself over the years.

But he's never lost someone he never had the nerve to be honest with.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 04 | sparks | 342/342

“Spark After Dark? What is this, a strip club?”

Shen rolls his eyes. “Please, like I’d waste a strip club night on you. Read the sign, bro.”

“Speed dating?”

“Come on, man.” Shen claps Frank on the back and all but pushes him inside.

“You do this because women can only tolerate you for five minutes at a time, right?”

He's joking. Mostly.

“Best five minutes of their lives, baby. Wouldn't be too mean though. Which one of us is recently divorced?”

Frank sighs. He's never needed gimmicky things like this to get women, but he also hasn't dated, speed or otherwise, since undergrad, so who the hell knows anymore.

They sign in, scrawl semi-legible names on name tags, get hasty instructions that boil down to don't be a creep. And then Frank is sitting down in front of a redhead who looks so much like Abby that he almost walks out right then.

They make small talk, but he can't shake off his discomfort before the bell is ringing and he's blindly moving to the next table.

It's like Groundhog Day in five-minute increments, four more times, until he slides into a new seat and stops short.

“Dr. Langdon?”

He almost doesn't recognize her. Mel’s hair is loose from its usual braid, and there's some sort of dark gloss on her lips that he can't stop staring at.

“What're you doing here?” He asks finally, dumbly.

“Uh, you know,” she says, gesturing around them. “Dating, I guess. It wasn't my idea.” She points over to where Mohan is laughing with some guy.

“Are you having fun?”

She wrinkles her nose a little, something that Frank always finds impossibly cute.

“Yeah, me either,” he admits. He leans over, and a small thrill runs through him at seeing her scorecard’s neat row of checkmarks in the no column, just like his.

“Hey,” he says. “Shen lied and said we were getting food. I'm starving. Would you wanna go get dinner with me?”

Mel smiles, and as the next bell rings, they both stand.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 03 | gala | 467/467

“Think that'll be us one day?”

Frank nods toward the window in the kitchen door, where Mel can see guests of the hospital gala trickling in.

The kitchen is hot and steamy already, and she blows a loose strand of hair off her sweaty forehead.

“I hope so,” she says, reaching for another tray to continue arranging overpriced appetizers.

“Gotta pass O-Chem first, I guess.” Frank shrugs, brushing his palm along her waist as he leans around to grab another tray. “We're still studying later, right?”

She nods as their manager too-enthusiastically claps to get their attention. Frank winks at her as they turn to listen, and she feels warm for entirely different reasons.

—

They're not dating, Mel knows that much.

But they spend all their free time together – joined at the hip in chem lab, huddled together in the library or her dorm room late nights, crowded in a hot corner of some random hotel kitchen when they should be serving, like they are now.

“Changed my mind,” Frank says quickly. “I don't want that to be us. That's the most boring group of people I've ever seen. Not a single one of them has laughed at my jokes.”

“Maybe your jokes aren't funny,” she offers.

Frank presses a hand to his chest, lets his head drop so his hair falls in his eyes. “Ouch, Mel King.”

She wants to brush the hair off his forehead, and he must have the same idea, because between one breath and the next, he's tucking that same loose wisp of hair behind her ear. It's so quick she might have imagined it.

He's smiling as he walks away, and Mel knows they're not dating.

But sometimes she isn't sure they're not not dating, either.

—

“I'm too tired to study,” Frank sighs, dramatically falling back on her dorm room bed. Her roommate is gone all the time, and Frank can't stand his, but Mel's pretty sure he'd be here all the time regardless.

She settles on the bed, her knee pressed against his thigh, but only because he's taking up the whole bed.

“Long night,” Mel agrees. “But at least they got less boring the more wine we served.”

Frank laughs, his hand falling to her knee as he shifts to look at her. “True,” he murmurs.

His voice always gets quieter, slower, the later it gets.

“Realized something,” he whispers. His hand is still on her knee, fingers dragging slow circles.

“Hmm?”

“I still wanna be in that room, or whatever boring hospital gala I'm invited to,” he pauses, blue eyes locking on hers. “But only if you're right there with me.”

—

When she stops in the middle of a slow, perfect kiss minutes later, to ask if they're dating, Frank's gentle laugh is all the answer she needs.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 02 | champagne | 158/158

“Are you having a good time?”

Mel raises an eyebrow, and he realizes she can't hear him over the loud music and million conversations around them.

He leans in, his lips so close to her ear that his teeth nearly nip her skin. (He's pretty sure if he asked, she'd lean closer and let him.)

“I said, I hope you're having a good time.”

“Oh,” she says, the word slipping out on a quiet breath. “I am, thanks.”

She's lying. It's loud and crowded and the champagne Abby spent way too much money on was warm by the time they toasted with it. He gets why Mel isn't enjoying herself.

But it's not like he is, either, which is a way bigger issue. Because his wife is across the room, laughing, sipping champagne she'll complain about later.

They've just renewed their vows, and all he can think about is finding a quiet place to be alone with Mel.

[fromiftowhen]

@kingdonmicrofic day 01 | confetti | 382/382

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Even as the words leave his mouth, Frank doesn't believe them. Because Mel is next to him, and Becca and the kids are laughing beside them.

How could anything be a bad idea if it makes his favorite people so happy?

Mel laughs. “This was your idea.”

“Yeah, and that's what makes me so confident in saying it was a bad one.”

“I could just tell you now, if you want to avoid all this,” she offers sweetly, not for the first time.

He's wanted to let her a hundred times. But he'd been insistent on wanting a surprise. He can't back down now.

Mel had been adamant on watching the ultrasound last week. And even though Frank kept his hand on her growing belly the whole time, he'd refused to look, insisting she only make him if anything was amiss. He'd felt her tense, and relished in her tiny gasps as the answer was revealed, but she'd given him no actual hints.

He'd been trying to gauge her mood all week. She cried during Penny’s daily Bluey binge – did that mean the baby was a boy? There were suddenly a hundred new items on the baby registry. Did that somehow mean it was a girl?

“No,” he says, finally. “This will be fun. But I probably should've picked something with less clean up.”

Mel nods in agreement. “Probably,” she grins. “That'll be fun for you.”

“Okay,” he laughs, loud enough to get everyone else’s attention. “Let's do this, guys. Let's count to three—”

Blue confetti bursts in a heavy cloud around Tanner before he's even started counting, and then a second later, pink confetti is raining in wild streams over Penny.

“Wait, what?” Frank asks, looking at Mel. “Did they mess up your order?”

Mel’s biting her lip, which is normally distractingly cute. She shakes her head.

“But… those are two different colors.” He feels dumb, and maybe a little faint.

“Surprise,” Mel whispers, stepping closer and bringing his hand to her stomach. “Blue for twin A,” and then a little lower, “and pink for twin B.”

“That's two babies.”

Mel smiles gently. “Commonly called twins.”

“We're having twins,” he finally says, amazement slowly edging out the all-encompassing shock.

“Hardest, best secret I've ever kept.”

[mateo-diaz]

KINGDON WEEK [ day one ] ↳ different first meeting

aka the AU where mel signs up for a notoriously tough online class and has heard horror stories about the old man professor who is awful at technology and doesn't know how to teach online, but thankfully the TA is hot nice and very helpful, and they end up bonding...

made with help by @fromiftowhen <3

[fromiftowhen]

tagged by @coffeealwayshelps ☀️

send me a number! I love rambling about fic.

[divorcedfranklangdon]

you got a fast car, is it fast enough so you can fly away?