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@loudbarks
LOUDBARKS ββ a private, selective blog for frankie knox.
β β πππππ π€ πππππππππ π€ ππππππ π€ πππππππ π€ ππππππ π€ πππππππππππ
kneeling there with his pupils blown wide, he realized there was nothing else pulling at him anymore. no second thoughts, no distractions. he just wanted her.
THE ADDAMS FAMILY (1991) Dir. Barry Sonnenfeld
OPEN TO: anyone <3 MUSE: frankie knox, immortal siren so age is a big ol' question mark, left the sea to pursue a normal life but it still calls to her. CONNECTION: someone in the band, a stranger, someone charmed by them, whatever.
frankie had never been very good at pretending she didnβt belong in rooms like this, even when half the people packed into the low-lit afterparty were trying too hard to PROVE they did. the show had ended an hour ago, but the venue still hummed with leftover noise; laughter spilling over the bar, amps being hauled out through a side door, someone from the band yelling their name from across the room before getting dragged into another conversation. she only lifted her vodka cran in vague acknowledgment, red straw caught between two fingers, her mouth curving around a private little smile as she drifted near the edge of the crowd. it was easier to watch than join in right away. easier to let their eyes move over faces they half-recognized, over glittered eyelids and leather jackets and sweaty post-show hair, while they hummed under their breath to whatever song the dj had thrown on next. frankie looked relaxed in that dangerous, expensive way she had learned to wear like perfume, but there was a SHARPNESS beneath it too; a creature who knew exactly when someone was looking, and whether she wanted to let them get away with it. their gaze caught on someone across the room then, lingering a beat too long to be accidental, and the corner of their mouth lifted around the straw before they finally looked away, like they had been the one to decide the moment was over.
he wondered, briefly, if she could feel the way his heart stuttered whenever she pulled him closer. if she could hear it pounding in his chest. oh. this was it. this was the moment. they asked what they were naming the cat, but wren just laughed and wrapped his arms around them again, squeezing them tight. his hands spread across their back as he held on for a second longer than necessary, letting himself sit in the feeling. he was happy. he'd never been this happy in his entire life. thank fucking god black vine's agent answered that email. βsorry you're humiliated,β he chuckled. β'cause you're kind of stuck with me.β when he finally pulled back, his hands settled against her cheeks. god. he was so in love it made him feel stupid. βyou make me really fucking happy, ginge.β his smile softened. βyou completely ruined my reputation as an asshole, by the way. even my dad said that.β he laughed. βbut i guess that's okay. 'cause it's you.β wren took a step back, shoving one hand into his pocket while the other dragged through his hair. βi don't really know if there's a best way to do this.β he laughed nervously. βi just β jesus christ. i love you so fucking much. i wanna be greedy. i wanna take up all your time. you're my favorite person in the world.β it probably looked ridiculous when he dropped to one knee right there. but it was frankie. so it was perfect. βi love you so much.β his expression softened, neon light painting warm colors across his face. somewhere nearby, he was pretty sure someone gasped, but his attention never left her. it always came back to frankie. βwill you marry me?β
frankie laughed when he pulled them back in, the question about the tiny cat disappearing into the damp fabric of his shirt as his arms wrapped around them. she went willingly, face tucked near his neck, smiling so hard it almost hurt. it shouldβve scared them, how happy they were. it shouldβve made some old, nervous part of her start looking for the exit, searching for the crack in the ceiling before the whole room caved in. but wrenβs hands were warm against their back, and the rain was tapping above them, and all frankie could think was that THIS was what people wrote songs about when they werenβt trying to lie. βstuck with you?β she echoed, pulling back enough to look at him, brows lifting with exaggerated offense. βgod, tragic. however will i survive being loved by the prettiest man alive?β their smile only got worse when his hands came to their cheeks. ruined his reputation. even his dad said so. frankieβs laugh turned small and bright, her hands curling around his wrists as she leaned into his touch. βgood,β they said, eyes shining with mischief and too much affection. βyour reputation needed humbling. you were getting impossible to be around.β she expected him to laugh. expected him to kiss them again, maybe drag them toward whatever weird little place heβd found on maps, the tiny cat tucked away as proof of his dramatic victory. so, when he stepped back, when one hand went into his pocket and the other dragged through his wet hair, frankie only watched him with a fond, curious smile, head tilted beneath the neon glow. then he started talking. for a second, she couldnβt make sense of the shape of it. greedy. all your time. favorite person in the world. the words landed one by one, too big to hold, too TENDER to joke away. their smile faltered, not because it left, but because it changed; parting around a breath they hadnβt realized theyβd been holding. and then wren dropped to one knee. everything inside frankie went quiet.
she hadnβt known. hadnβt even LET themself think about marriage in any serious way, because they didnβt know where wren stood on it, didnβt know if it was a door he ever wanted to open. frankie had learned, a long time ago, not to build dreams out of assumptions. but there he was, on one knee in the rain-lit glow of a japanese street, looking at her like his entire life had narrowed down to this one question. their hand flew to their mouth. βoh my god,β she breathed, and it came out broken around the sudden blur in her eyes. someone nearby gasped. frankie barely heard it. they were staring at wren, at the ring, at the man who had stayed. the man who had seen every jagged, ugly part of her and still wanted a future. not a night. not a tour. not a version of them edited into easier pieces. ALL of it. tears spilled before she could stop them, and frankie let out a shaky little laugh, half sob, half disbelief. βwren,β they whispered, like his name was the only thing they knew how to say. then she nodded, fast and helpless, dropping down in front of him without caring about the wet pavement or the people watching or the umbrella tilting uselessly beside them. βyes,β they said, hands reaching for his face. βYES. of course, yes.β she kissed him before he could say anything else, crying into it and smiling against his mouth, one hand threading into his damp hair while the other held onto him like she needed proof he was real. when frankie pulled back, their forehead rested against his, tears still caught on their lashes. βi love you so much,β she whispered. βiβll marry you. iβll marry you, baby.β
it feels kind of unfair how easy this feels. somewhere along the way, she's supposed to make amends or something. her therapist had said something like that. but is she ready for that tonight ?? it all feels kind of fragile. "clem's pretty and she deserves them." shiloh shrugs, "so yeah, if i gotta pay taxes to the shadow government, i'll do what it takes." it hurts how easy this feels, like if she just hadn't gotten in her own head, this could have been something that lasted when everything else felt like it didn't. so much of these last few months has been spent rebuilding herself. there was a time when every moment was spent in the warm glow of frankie's attanetion. but now, she's trying to stop making herself into someone who only exists in the gaze of someone else's adoration. maybe if frankie had begged, shiloh wouldn't have run out the door. maybe if she felt wanted instead of like she had become a stranger to herself, begging for crumbs of reassurance, she wouldn't have fallen apart. "come by the shop sometime, tell her yourself." why did she say that? even if she wanted it, if every flash of bright red hair ( of which there were many ) made her ache and hope that frankie was walking in. "i know she misses you." and maybe i do too.
that caught her off guard. frankie glanced over so quickly they almost missed a step, their chest tightening in a way they absolutely HATED. it would've been easier if this had stayed awkward; easier if shiloh had been cold or distant or anything other than this familiar version of herself that frankie had spent months missing. "yeah?" she asked softly, a crooked smile tugging at one corner of her mouth before she could stop it. the invitation sat between them heavier than it should have. there had been a time they'd walked into that shop whenever they wanted, when seeing shiloh wasn't something they'd had to wonder if they were still allowed to do. for a moment she could almost remember what it felt like to believe they'd have YEARS of that. "i miss that dog too, y'know." her laugh was quiet, but there was no hiding the affection in it. then their eyes found shiloh's again, and the next words slipped out before the redhead could think better of them. "i'd like that." not just clem. the shop. seeing her. any of it. and maybe that was the problem. some part of frankie wasn't entirely sure she'd ever stopped wanting it.
Seascape Waves (1911) by D. Howard Hitchcock | Among the Waves (2010) by George Dmitriev | Between the Waves (1898) by Ivan Aivazovsky
wren dissolved almost instantly, laughter breaking out of him the second they started pressing kisses all over his face. he twisted around in dramatic, halfhearted attempts to dodge them, grinning the entire time until eventually he just gave up pretending to resist and let himself giggle against their skin. βcute?β he repeated like the word alone was deeply offensive. βshit. i have a whole brand to maintain here.β his smile curled warm against their mouth when they kissed him again, completely ruining any chance he had at sounding serious. βa whole reputation,β he insisted dramatically. βpeople think iβm, like, this giant asshole, and youβre singlehandedly destroying all my hard work.β his hands settled against them anyway, pulling them closer despite the complaints. βyouβre making me soft, ginge.β and honestly, he adored it. adored them. he was so stupidly obsessed it was almost embarrassing.
frankie's laugh joined his immediately, bright and helpless at the sound of his giggling. god, she LOVED that laugh. loved how different it was from the version of wren everyone else got; all sharp edges sanded down until there was nothing left but WARMTH. βyour reputation is already fucked, baby,β they informed him cheerfully, reaching up to cup his face. βlook at you. you're the sweetest, prettiest boy i've EVER met.β her grin widened when he inevitably looked offended by that. the words came easily now, which still surprised them sometimes. there had been a time when affection felt dangerous, when letting herself want people this much felt worse. with him, it just felt easy. SAFE. standing on their tiptoes, they stole another kiss, lingering for a second before pulling back. βc'mere.β she immediately made grabby hands at him, laughing again. βpick me up. i wanna be tall for, like, thirty seconds.β
continued for frankie (@loudbarks) !!
his expression softened almost immediately, the sharp edges of him easing as he shifted closer so there wasnβt any space left for distance between them. βi know you are,β he said gently. then, quieter, βitβs okay.β his hand lifted, inked fingers brushing lightly along her cheek in a slow, grounding arc like he was trying to anchor her right there in the moment. βitβs okay to be scared about it,β he sighed, frustration flickering under his calm because it pissed him off β honestly β that anyone had ever made her feel like she had to brace for disappointment just to be cared about. and he knew, logically, that none of that was her fault. none of it. βi wanna show you that you donβt have to wait for the other shoe to drop,β he said after a beat, head tilted slightly. βiβm sure iβm gonna fuck it up somehow β iβm still me, but, you know. i love you.β another breath, then, βwhat do you need the most right now? you want me to sit here? i can clean? whatever you need.β
his hand against her cheek made her eyes sting all over again. frankie leaned into it before they could stop themself, exhausted enough that they didn't have the energy to hide how BADLY they needed the comfort. the question should've been easy to answer. what do you need? most people always seemed to know. frankie never did when she got like this. everything felt impossible and pointless at the same time. they needed a shower. she knew that. their hair felt awful. she probably needed food too; she couldn't remember the last thing she'd eaten that wasn't whatever she'd found within arm's reach. but even THINKING about standing up made them feel tired. for a long moment, she just stared at the blankets pooled in her lap, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread. "i don't know," they admitted quietly. the answer felt pathetic the second it left their mouth. "that's the problem." a shaky laugh escaped her, humorless and small. depression always stole the instructions. things that should've been simple became MOUNTAINS they couldn't figure out how to climb. her throat tightened. "i should probably shower. eat something." the words sounded distant, like they were talking about somebody else. "i just..." she shook her head weakly. "i don't have the energy for any of it." after a moment, their fingers found his again, holding on a little tighter this time. "can you just stay here for a while?" she asked softly. "i think that's all i can manage right now."
when the tune fluttered away into silence, he blinked a couple times like heβd only just come back to himself, DISAPPOINTMENT settling unexpectedly in his chest. he wouldβve liked to keep listening to that. honestly, he probably couldβve listened to that for hours without saying a word. then they tilted their head, red hair spilling over their shoulders in soft waves, and he had to swallow before his brain would start functioning properly again. okay. yeah. she was really fucking pretty, and apparently he had no idea how to act normal about it. βsunny,β he said, and when they immediately called him out, a surprised laugh slipped from him before he could stop it. βuh, yeah,β he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. βhowβd you know i was mentally planning an escape route?β god, was he really that OBVIOUS? apparently. he glanced away for a second with a crooked little smile, shoulders lifting in a halfhearted shrug. βi kind of always let my friends convince me to go out with them,β he said. βand then, likeβ¦ ten minutes in, i remember i hate being perceived.β another shrug, smaller this time. βi donβt know. i just kinda feel out of place most of the time.β
a soft laugh slipped from frankie as he admitted it, the sound nearly lost beneath the music. there was something oddly endearing about how HONEST he was. most people would've tried to play it off; he just handed her the truth and let it sit between them. "well, for starters, you keep looking at the door every thirty seconds," they teased, lifting their glass slightly. "and you've got that expression people get when they're calculating whether disappearing without saying goodbye would be considered rude." her smile lingered as she studied him for a moment. he didn't seem uncomfortable around THEM, exactly. just around... everything else. the crowd. the noise. the attention. "i'm frankie," she said finally, extending the introduction she'd skipped over earlier. a ring tapped lightly against their glass as they shifted their weight against the bar. "and you are?" the question came easy, accompanied by a small tilt of her head. "because i don't think 'guy plotting his escape route' is what your friends put on your birthday cards."
a low, easy laugh caught in vico's throat when her own words were used against her. "maybe five and a half if i rush myself," they backtracked, lazy smirk tugging at her mouth. "shit, aight. i was trying to be careful you make me want to be different, baby." as if. vico had every line and every move practiced down to a science. they had a gift, something that made people melt under her gaze. right now, they were dying to see how it'd work on frankie. "pfft. don't offend me," she teased, stepping back, eyes never leaving frankie's. "five minutes. make sure you look pretty for me." she slipped out of the room after delivering that instruction. three minutes were spent undressing, pulling her shirt off, pants hitting the floor next. and once she stood there in her underwear, she pulled her harness out of her bag, stepping into it with casual efficiency; left leg, right leg, and boom. muscle memory kicked in next, snapping each buckle into place until they were ready.
once out, she leaned against the doorframe, nonchalant posture hiding how her pulse was hammering a little faster than she'd ever like to admit. "guess what angel," she murmured, feigning disappointment. "i forgot the lube. so... you're going to have to help me with that."
clothes hit the floor the instant the door latched, her jeans shrugged off with an impatient roll of her hips, tee whisked overhead in one breath. black lace hugged curves they KNEW would snag vicoβs eye, thin straps framing freckles that climbed to their collarbones. frankie shook out her hair, let it spill like wildfire down her back, then sat back onto the bed. they settled there, with their spine proud and hands smoothing along their own legs while they counted down the seconds in a hush of anticipation. leather buckles jingled, and vico filled the doorway, harness catching the light. no lube, they said, and the redhead simply smirked. βno lube, huh? GOOD thing iβm resourceful.β with a languid roll of her shoulders, she lowered herself to the rug; lace kissed her skin, thighs parting in invitation while her palms found the harness and tugged vico nearer. they licked a slow line from base to tip, letting saliva pool and glisten, then wrapped their mouth around the crown, cheeks hollowing in a languid pull that drenched the grain. she didnβt retreat. instead they held there, with their tongue painting languid swirls, palms sliding to vicoβs hips for balance, and their gaze trailing upward, daring and full of fire, while their lips stayed locked around the strap, working it wetter with every heartbeat.
his expression softened when they spoke, and he nodded. βyeah.β tired. he was always tired. tired of sleeping, tired of being awake, but that wasn't something he felt like unpacking anytime soon. βi get missing jiji. i miss pocky. it's weird not having him around.β a beat, then he laughed. βdogs still kind of freak me out, but i like mine.β he shifted slightly, thinking. βyou know, wren kind of scared me when i first met him. but he's nice.β archer tilted his head. βi think he does that whole frontman persona thing really well. it's weird. he's a lot nicer than i thought he'd be.β a beat later, he snickered. βand your whole face lights up when you see him. that's cute.β the admission that they were okay settled something in his chest. he hadn't realized how much he'd needed to hear it until now. leaning lightly against her shoulder, he let out a quiet breath. βokay. good. i'm glad.β a second passed before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again. β'cause if we're both losing it, that'd be bad for everyone involved. trust me.β he laughed and shook his head. βi'm okay, too. just... same thing. miss the dog. miss my friends.β his nose scrunched. βi wish i had a hot tattooed guy to come home to, but whatever. someday.β the words were followed by another laugh. βhey, all of my friends are getting married.β he looked expectantly at her. βif you get married, i need to take photos and also somehow be in the wedding party, too. oh!" his eyebrows rose. "and i absolutely plan on giving you an embarrassing speech, by the way. one that makes you all sad and touched. i'm good at that."
frankie laughed softly at that, shaking her head. βyeah, that sounds about right. wren's got the whole scary frontman thing down. first time i met him, i thought he was an asshole.β their grin widened. βand don't tell him i said this, though β it'll go STRAIGHT to his head β but he's probably one of the sweetest people i've ever met.β just thinking about him tugged at her chest a little. the stupid thing was archer wasn't wrong; they knew their face changed when wren walked into a room. she'd caught it in photos taken by archer before. caught themself smiling before they even realized they were doing it. βgod, if we're both losing it, we'd be completely fucked,β she snorted. βnobody would get any pictures and i'd probably fall off a speaker again.β the joke came easily, but the mention of marriage made them pause. her fingers toyed absentmindedly with a loose thread on her sleeve as her gaze dropped for a second. it wasn't that they'd never thought about it. it was more that she'd never really let herself IMAGINE it for very long. most of their relationships had ended in disaster; for years, forever had felt like something that happened to OTHER people. βi dunno,β she admitted after a moment. βi don't even know if i'd ever get married.β a small laugh escaped them. βhell, i don't know if WREN even wants to get married.β her shoulders lifted in a shrug, though she couldn't quite hide the warmth creeping into her expression. βand it's not like he's proposed or anything. i'm not even sure that's something that'll ever happen.β they were quiet for a beat. βbut...β the corner of her mouth twitched upward. βif he did ask? yeah. i'd say yes.β immediately, they pointed at archer before he could get too emotional about it. βand absolutely not. you're not giving a speech. i know EXACTLY how this ends. you make everyone cry, then somehow embarrass me in front of everyone.β a beat. βactually, now that i think about it, you'd be the first one invited.β her grin softened. βjust don't wear the stupid feather hat.β
he immediately dissolved into another fit of laughter when she congratulated him on being able to ride roller coasters. "hey, don't!" arch swatted half-heartedly at her hand as she ruffled his hair. "i put effort into the hair today!" he quickly smoothed it back into place, looking mildly offended. the compliment that followed hit a lot harder β heat rushed up the back of his neck, and for a moment, he forgot to hide how pleased he was. "thanks, frankie." his smile was small but genuine. soft β there was always something a little fragile underneath it, something he usually worked pretty hard to keep hidden. frankie made it easy to forget about that for a while. easy to stop performing. "i'll show up on the next tour with the whole outfit." his grin returned. "i booked a bunch of portraits after we're done, and i'm gonna test it out on everybody, and if i make even one person uncomfortable, you'll be the first to know." he laughed at the imagery of frankie carrying him out of the pit. "yeah, i appreciate it. bury whatever's left of me with my camera, too." drawing his knees to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on top. the smile lingered for another second before fading. "how are you feeling?" his voice was quieter this time. "with, like... everything." he picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "i know tour can be a lot sometimes. for me, too. just checking in.β
βgood. it should be uncomfortable,β frankie informed him with a grin. βthat means the vision is working. if i see you show up in some giant feathered hat acting mysterious, though, i reserve the RIGHT to bully you relentlessly.β the smile lingered for a moment before his question settled between them. it caught her a little off guard. not because nobody asked β people did, sometimes. but a lot of the time they were really asking if frankie was holding it together. archer was asking because he wanted to know the answer. for a second, they just looked at him. then she shifted closer and wrapped an arm around him right back, tugging him into a loose side hug. he was one of those people who seemed to carry loneliness around quietly, tucked into places most people NEVER bothered looking. βhonestly?β she admitted, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly. βi'm tired.β a small laugh escaped them. βnot in a dramatic way. just... TIRED.β her gaze drifted toward the bus floor. βi miss wren. i miss my cat. i miss sleeping in my own bed and not having to figure out where my charger is every morning.β the confession felt embarrassingly simple when they said it aloud. no grand crisis. no breakdown. just the accumulated WEIGHT of being away for weeks (or months) at a time. βbut i'm okay.β her arm tightened around his shoulders for a second. βtour's weird. half the time it's the coolest thing in the world, and the other half you're sitting backstage missing some dumb little thing from home so much it makes your chest hurt.β they glanced up at him and smiled. βwhat about you, huh? besides your near-fatal photography incidents.β
he felt himself shatter when she told him what sage had asked. the tears came faster then, thick and hot, slipping down his face as his breath hitched. a hiccup. a deep breath. anything to keep from openly sobbing in the apartment hallway. the first few weeks after they separated, wren had spent countless hours online, scrolling through forums and comment sections, wincing whenever certain words caught his eye. what happened to that person he was seeing? doesn't he have, like, a kid?? what's he doing?? i knew he was a cheating asshole. and the worst part was that it had been nothing. a stupid, spur-of-the-moment mistake. arms flung around some girl because she was drunk and excited. he hadn't kissed her. hadn't slept with her. but none of that mattered. what mattered was that he'd hurt frankie. his fingers curled into his palm, pressing hard enough that he could feel crescent-shaped indents forming in his skin. he couldn't look at them. it was too much. too painful. god, he loved her. he loved frankie knox more than he'd ever loved anyone, and he missed the way their lives had become tangled together β learning which meals they liked. knowing what foods made sage sick. all the little things that had once felt ordinary. he could see it so clearly in his head: another photo of his brighter-than-life smile, this time turned toward the side of the stage. toward frankie. toward sage in his little shorts and green headphones, the same pair they'd spent the night before gluing dinosaur horns onto. "i know." his voice sounded small, utterly defeated. he felt like getting on his knees and begging. "i won't. i promise." then, somehow even quieter: "tell me what i can do to get another chance. please."
frankie wanted to have an answer for him. she wanted to be the kind of person who could stand in her doorway with tears on her face and a clean list of terms in her head, as if love could be negotiated back into place with enough promises. but the truth was, they didnβt know. she didnβt know what another chance was SUPPOSED to look like after months of forcing herself not to miss him, scraping herself off the bathroom floor, and pretending in front of sage that her voice wasnβt about to break every time his little face turned toward the door. wren was asking them what he could do, and frankie hated that all they could think was that they wanted him to UNDO it. undo the pictures. undo the night she saw them. undo the second their heart shattered so loudly they were surprised the whole apartment didnβt hear it. βyou were the first person i let in after HIM,β she said, and her voice came out uneven, barely holding together. they didnβt have to say sageβs father for wren to know. the ghost of him had lived in the corners of their relationship from the beginning; in how frankie flinched from certain kinds of disappointment, in how measured every promise twice before believing it, and in how sheβd learned not to need anyone because needing people had only ever given them a better place to cut from. βi let you into my apartment. into MY KIDβS life. into all the parts of me i donβt just hand over to people.β their arms crossed over themself, fingers digging into their own sides as if they could hold themself in one piece by force. βand then i fell in love with you. i really fucking fell in love with you, wren.β the sob rose before she could stop it. they turned their face away fast, trying to swallow it down, trying to muffle the sound behind their hand because sage was right there, because they were still his mother before they were anyoneβs RUINED ex. but trying to hold it in only made it worse. her shoulders shook once, then again, and the tears came harder, hot and humiliating and impossible to control. βi saw those photos and it was likeββ they couldnβt finish. there werenβt words for it that didnβt sound too small. it hadnβt been jealousy, not really. itβd been TERROR. itβd been every old lesson snapping awake at once, telling her sheβd been stupid to trust him, stupid to let him close, and stupid to believe a man could love her and not eventually make her regret it. βi donβt know what iβm supposed to do,β they choked out, pressing both hands over their mouth as another sob broke through. βi donβt know how to be mad enough to STOP loving you.β for one suspended second, she just stood there trying to keep herself from falling apart in the hallway. then all at once, whatever thin wall they had left COLLAPSED. without hesitation, frankie crossed the space between them and lunged into him, burying her face into his chest as her arms wrapped tight around his middle. it was reckless. it was probably unfair. it answered nothing. but the second they felt him there, solid and familiar beneath their hands, the grief theyβd been carrying alone tore out of them in ragged, muffled sobs. βi donβt know what to DO,β she cried into his shirt, clinging to him even though she knew clinging wasnβt the same as forgiving. βi donβt know what to do, wren.β
"the best of 'em." vico was a lot of things, but a gentleman, she was not. he was a hound dog. a horndog. a plan and simple canine absolutely starving to keep sniffing around; fucking dying to get a closer look at exactly what was hidden between frankie's legs. "aye, shit... right now? fuck. you're lucky i always bring my bag with me." one never knew when you'd get lucky. for vico, it happened way too often. eager to get started, he gripped their hip, fingers digging into frankie's skin through her clothes. "ten minutes," she muttered. "then you're all mine."
a giggle slipped out of frankie before she could stop it, breathy and delighted despite the way she tried to hide it behind a wicked little smile. ten minutes. that shouldnβt have made their pulse jump the way it did, but vicoβs hand was on their hip, fingers pressing through the fabric, and frankie hated how quickly their body decided to be honest for them. βten minutes?β she echoed, tilting her head as she looked up at them through her lashes. βthatβs an AWFUL long time for somebody who was just bragging about not taking it slow.β their hand drifted to vicoβs wrist, not pulling her away, just keeping her there as they leaned in a fraction closer. βbetter make sure youβre worth the wait, baby.β
"of course i can." wren brushed another tear from her cheek and nodded immediately, like there'd never been another answer. he pressed a kiss to her forehead and stayed there for a moment, arms wrapped around her as he held her close. "yeah. i'll go get one right now." a beat. "n' for the recordβ¦ it's okay if you were preparing for the worst, okay?" he shook his head. "i just want you to know i'm not upset about that." because he wasn't β he wasn't upset. he wasn't disappointed; he wasn't anything except worried about her. wren kissed them one more time before pushing himself to his feet. "i'll be right back. n' i'll try not to be loud and annoying going through the apartment," he laughed. βso sage doesnβt wake up.β before leaving, he spent a few extra minutes making sure she was comfortable β making sure she had water, anything else she wanted, before he actually left. the drive to the pharmacy was fine. totally fine. his heart wasn't trying to beat its way out of his chest or anything. when he really thought about it, he knew he'd be okay with either outcome β what mattered was frankie. what mattered was making sure they felt safe. the second he got to the store, all rational thought abandoned him. he grabbed pregnancy testsβ¦ then some moreβ¦ different kidsβ¦ because what if one of them sucked? what if there was a false reading? what if β you know what? better safe than sorry. he also grabbed frankie's favorite snacks β and a couple drinks. and then another snack. just in case. he wasn't entirely sure what the correct response to a potential pregnancy scare (??) was, but surely snacks couldn't hurt. the cashier took one look at his basket and immediately smirked. wren stared right back. fuck off. the walk back to the car was significantly less fun after that. when he finally got home, he slipped back into the apartment as quietly as possible and made his way straight to frankie. the bag rustled as he set it down beside them. "okay." he looked inside, then back at them, then back inside. "now that i'm looking at this..." a laugh escaped him. "this might be overkill. but i didn't really wanna leave any room for doubt." his smile softened. "'cause i know that'd drive you crazy."
frankie nodded quietly, still sniffling as he brushed another tear from her cheek. when he kissed their forehead, they closed their eyes for a second and leaned into it. "thank you," she whispered. not just for going to get a test. for all of it. for STAYING. for not looking at them the way they'd been afraid he would. her fingers caught his sleeve before he could pull away completely, and she managed the smallest smile. "you're really sweet, y'know that?" it came out a little watery, but they meant it.
@skippingframes is loco for vico
"spitting in your mouth is fucking child's play, if hey, if you wanna take things slow, ill give it a try. i'm a gentleman."
frankieβs smile sharpened as she stepped closer, eyes dragging over vico with open amusement. βa gentleman,β they repeated, like the word tasted ridiculous. βalright, vico. prove it.β her gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up. βshow me what you think NOT taking it slow looks like.β
