do a drabble of the new years kiss thanks
it’s fair to say they missed the minute mark and are well into the new year. no clock to tell. he’d figured it’d struck midnight when david introduced him to his grapes tradition. proper time or not, however, the celebration carries on ( and would long into the night ).
with this weather, they’re better off inside, but frank doesn’t envy the choice. he’s fine with sitting out here, next to his partner, watching the fireworks up close. it’s like the snow stopped -- just for them, temporarily. sheepish thoughts. he ought to be careful about his wandering mind. to say he hasn’t thought about moments like this with david would be a lie. but he’s more than just a fantasy, he’s reassurance that frank’s alive and has something to live for. that’s the part that counts; that’s the part that leads frank’s hand to his partner’s and rests it on top.
fucking silence. it’s what he should have expected. it’s what he gets for acting on romantically-driven impulse, but david hasn’t pulled away. so he keeps his hand there and keeps his eyes focused on the moon. he’s nervous as shit, heart racing. it’s one thing to visit the moon. it’s another to live on it.
the crowd below in the square screeches in almost comical drunkness. frank and david hadn’t missed it after all.
❛ n’here i was thinking we were living in the damn future. ❜ he’s not counting on a response but chuckles anyways, as if trying to cover up the nerves. maybe frank should speak personally to david, tell the truth about his feelings with dignity. it’d be embarrassing. his thoughts would be scrambled so much it’d be hard to keep up. worst of all, he’d put himself in the situation of rejection.
but he has to. for the sake of making it to the new year.
❛ i have these-- feelings--❜
a relentless terror squad of cheers pierces the air but frank can’t seem to focus on it. relief and fear rise in his chest, cancelling each other out and numbing him in the process. there’s an insubordinate pair of lips at his own, and for a moment, the snow does stop, really stops -- the whoops and the hollers vanish from the world below and for once the two of them have the peace of mind to be alone. is david taking this as seriously as he is ? is this nothing but a joke ? maybe it’s some sick game to play on a rooftop because frank’s troubled.
he doesn’t give a shit, either way. he gets himself together and soldiers through the kiss, hand finding its way to the back of his neck. he’s no pro, but he won’t let his own paranoia stop him from making the most of this moment. so much for spilling his guts on a rooftop. it hits him that maybe david knew all along, like how he always knows, checking up on him spontaneously when he’s at his worst, bringing the coffee whenever he’s craving it, giving him those comforting words whenever he most needs them.
