soft frank things
(because as always, my brain only operates in two modes with this man)
the man loves a slow dance
will literally make time for it whenever he can, whether there is music playing or not
he loves to see you in his clothing
even going so far as to insist that when you guys have the odd day off together, you either spend it entirely nude, or in one of his oversized shirts or sweaters
carries a picture of you everywhere he goes. the one tucked on the inside of his wallet right now is so tattered and worn, you can hardly tell it's of you anymore. he still swears it's his favourite
is an avid cook. he'd gotten out of it the last couple of years, on account of having no one to do it for, but nothing makes him more content than figuring out what you're craving from one day to the next, and whipping it up for you
one of his favourite ways to cuddle with you (apart from naked spooning) is to put on an old movie, and settle in for the night. (covers are not usually needed because the man runs hot.)
we've discussed it a bit before, but he loves it when you ask him to read to you
stargazing is hard to come by in new york city because of the light pollution, so on nights when it's really clear, he'll drive the two hours to minnewaska park just to be able to catch a glimpse of some with you
feels comfortable sharing anecdotes of his past with you. it doesn't happen often, but you're really the only person he goes to when he wants to talk about maria and the kids
he loves to build you things. whether it's a shelf set from ikea ("kid- what on earth possessed you to buy this, and why, for the love of god, do the instructions read like ancient heiroglyphics?") or a bird house you've had your eye on, he's your guy, and he's always more than happy to help
thrifting. the man loves a good thrift session. your home is filled with trinkets, and artwork, and random vinyls you two have found over the years
the man does not tolerate any negative self-talk from you. all he has to do is give you a look when you get going, and the words fizzle in your throat. "cut that shit out, kid. no one talks about my best friend like that."
the man is very protective of you. like that one time you forgot to get a first aid kit for your new car, and when you assured him you didn't think it was necessary he "broke into" it to put one in the glove compartment, and one in the trunk
animals. they love frank. dogs, cats, you name it, they're going to cuddle with him
he detests going to bed angry. so even if you've spent the evening in separate rooms, he always comes to find you when it's time to go to bed. "c'mon kid, lets leave the bullshit out here, hm? come to bed."
sometimes he worries he's too protective of you, but at the end of the day, he just hopes that when he's around, you always feel safe. that you know you always have someone you can talk to, to vent to, and to love
