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mamsieur · 6 months

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Evil Twin | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Floyd!Reader

Summary : Who would have guessed that sweet and discreet Bob had a twin sister who was his opposite ? Not the Dagger Squad, that's for sure.

TW : mention of past abuse, mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, angst and fluff, angst with happy ending

Length : 6980 words

AN : Bob is the sweetest and I'm sure he's an overprotective brother.

posted on AO3 July 22, 2023

You were the quintessential of the pop-rock star. You had a lot of problems with the press, both concerning your love life and the setbacks of your ex-band.

The first problem was that you were often seen leaving hotels with different partners : the press loved that you didn't settle down and always made a big deal out of it. You didn't really care, you knew the tabloids always twisted the truth just to sell more garbage. What bothered you was that your mom kept calling you about it, wondering why you couldn't be discreet and serious, have a normal job like your twin; the perfect little Robby, pride and joy of the family. He was in the navy, serving the country, and your father liked to remind you that Robert was doing something useful, something great. Yet, you didn't care what the public and your family thought of you. You just wanted to play your songs, have fun on stage and in the studio. It was your cop-out after some traumatic experiences you went through in high school.

As for your problems with the band, it was a different kettle of fish.

You were the lead vocalist and guitarist. You loved being on stage, it made you feel powerful, in control. You were backed by three talented but lazy guys about your age. It was your agent's idea to put you in charge of them. And what a great idea. At first it was fun, you had a good time. But as time went by, their excesses slowed down your rise in the charts. And they wasted all their time, energy and money on the wrong things. Every day, the press had a scoop about them doing something illegal or immoral. The last one on their list was being seen exiting a bar with underage fans.

Those recent events forced your label to give you a choice; either the whole group was fired or you could continue as a solo artist; your producer and staff knew that you weren't really a troublemaker, so it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You didn't even hesitate to sign your new contract ; and that led to a new scandal in the press, creating false drama between you and your ex mates. But as much as you were determined to make a name for yourself, you also needed a break from all the “scandal” that was going on. You made a deal with your producer and new agent: you had one month to come up with at least two singles, while you could go anywhere you wanted to find inspiration and relax.

And what could be more relaxing than the seaside ? The beach, the sun, the salty air, the feeling of being in an eternal summer ? It was perfect. You booked your flight to San Diego and rented a small beach house on Airbnb. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, maybe running into your twin brother at the local bar.

The Hard Deck seemed like a pretty chill place and the owner, Penny, was really nice. You spent some evenings there, trying to come up with some lyrics over a Coke. She was curious and you were happy to share what you were working on, even though you hadn't made any progress. She had that reassuring aura, and talking with her was like talking to an old friend that you knew all your life. She was genuinely interested in what you had to share, and gave you some advice when she could. She also was curious to hear your voice and tried a few times to get you at the piano. You refused politely each time, feeling strangely shy.

It took you a week and a half to work up the courage to go to that piano.

The bar was rather empty, which was unusual for a Saturday night but made it easier for you to convince yourself that it was okay. You discreetly started to warm up your voice and started a version of Your Song - Penny confessed to you it was one of her favorite songs.

In a corner of the bar, by the pool table, a group of pilots were surprised to hear the piano playing at this hour. "Looks like someone stole your seat, Bradshaw," a tall blond man sneered. "Looks like it, Seresin." Bradley raised an eyebrow and leaned over to see who had taken his place at the piano. The others gently urged him to join them; after all, he was the musician among the squad. He pretended to be annoyed by their request and joined you for the last chorus. You were surprised, but smiled quietly and finished your "performance" with him. You made room for him on the little bench, and with a look of approval, you moved on to another song of his choice: Ain't no mountain higher . The patrons of the bar, who had become more numerous, were delighted to have a private mini-concert. Some of them started to dance, others joined in singing. It was a fun experience.

After the end of the song, you smiled and shook the hand of your partner of a moment and let him enjoy the piano by himself. You made your way back to your stool and asked Penny for a glass of water. You felt a presence next to you and turned a little to see who was there. You easily guessed it was a navy man ; the uniform - talk about obvious -, the perfectly styled hair. You grinned at the tall blond man in front of you.

“So, does that pretty voice have a name ?” asked Jake with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirtatious tone and his pushed Texan accent. “Well yes actually, I’m-” “Y/N ?” You frowned, immediately recognizing the voice that had spoken your name. You easily spotted his surprised face among the other navy people that were close to you and Jake. "Robert?" "Don't tell me you're his girlfriend..." "What? No!" you shouted at the same time, making a few of the others giggle. "Gross!" you pretended to vomit. "She's my sister, Hangman," Bob sighed. "Twin sister, to be exact," you precised.

You couldn't help but giggle at the shocked looks on the faces of who you assumed were his colleagues. He was suddenly flooded with questions, and you enjoyed watching him turn redder and redder. Then they focused on you. "You two don't look alike at all," Reuben said, scanning you in detail. You rolled your eyes and smiled, leaning against your brother as you poked his side. "Robert took the height and brains, I took the charm and talent."

Your brother sighed and ran his hand over his neck, slightly embarrassed. His teammates were happy to meet you, especially happy to annoy Bob, and Natasha seemed to realize something. "Your voice sounds familiar... I've heard it somewhere before... in a band, right?" " Nemesis ," you smiled and nodded, mentioning your old band, "but I'm solo now. Kept the stage name though." "Quite a few scandals with that band..." your twin mumbled. You decided not to pay attention to him. Like your parents, Robert had never understood your career choice, arguing that you were brilliant at school and could have done anything else. Of course you were pretty intelligent but you had fallen in love with music as an outlet for your pain. But your family didn’t seem to accept your way of coping with your traumas.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You got to know your brother's second family. They all had their own personalities, but that's what made them so endearing. Jake invited you to join them the next day, since it was their day off and they wanted to relax at the beach. You gladly accepted.

Robert didn't say much to you, the atmosphere between you was cold and tense. Natasha noticed it, so she joined her WSO to chat. "What's wrong, Bob? Your sister seems nice and yet you're here, not saying anything to her." He sighed a little as he watched you chatting and having fun with the others. "I'm worried about her," he confessed, "she… she hides herself in that personna… that Nemesis …” “Aren't all artists ? I mean, they wouldn't take a stage name otherwise.” “I guess… but I’m scared she’s losing herself…” he said softly, glancing at you. He grumbled when he noticed that Jake was flirting with you; and you didn't seem to refuse his advances either. Natasha let out a soft “damn” when Jake slid his arm around you and Bob almost jumped off his seat, mumbling an irritated “that’s it”.

You felt a strong hand gripping your wrist and you were drawn out of Jake’s embrace and out the bar. “The hell Robby ?” you scoffed once outside, “I was in the middle of a conversation !” “No you weren’t, you were flirting ! With one of my teammates !” “First off, he initiated it ! And second, in what world is that your business ? We’re grown ups, I can handle some flirting !” “Well, first off , you’re my sister and second , Hangman is… he’s not the type to settle down !” he tried to explain himself but you just rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, you sound just like dad ! Why should I settle down ? I’m having fun, I’m happy that way !” You pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “Stop trying to father me, I’m doing fine since I left !” “Yeah, you seem real good in the local news,” he mumbles, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't even look at you as he said those words. You hated it when he did that, always half-assing his thoughts. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, tilting your head back. “And now you sound like mom. I can handle my life just fine Robert. I don’t need your concern, let alone your judgment ! I’ve never been better, ok ? Leave me the fuck alone !”

You were lying. You both knew that. He could read into you so easily, it made you sick. Call it ‘twin magic’ or ‘sibling intuition’, you still hated the way his blue eyes looked at you with worry and questions in them, knowing all too well that you were not fine.

You passed him, going back to the bar to get your stuff and pay Penny. Out of spit - and mostly because you wanted to - you handed your number to Jake and left with a smirk. You could hear the squad gently hassle Hangman who proudly showed off the piece of paper you gave him.

A little fun won’t kill you, would it ?

The next day, you joined the Dagger squad on the beach, near the Hard Deck.

They were playing a strange football game ; dogfight football , attack and defense at the same time, Natasha explained to you. You watched their first round and second, it seemed fun. At least, Bob seemed to have fun. You remembered he was not a teamsport guy younger. He actually hated the fact that your dad made him go to the tryouts for the football team in high school. To his misfortune, he got in. You smiled and sighed remembering those days. Sometimes, you missed the time you were close to your twin, when you could tell him everything, before it all fell apart in junior year. A cold shiver ran down your spine while you thought back about it. Your life changed so much at that time, you didn’t like to remember it.

Crouching in front of you, Jake snapped you out of your reverie. “Hey there darlin, care to join us ? We’ll be gentle, promise.” he said with a playful grin. You arched an eyebrow and sneered. “Oh please, don’t be, I can handle it.” He laughed and helped you up. You were put in his team against Natasha, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. You were - to your own surprise - pretty fast and efficient. Javy and Jake joked around saying that being stealth had to be running in the family.

You really had fun, even laughing with your brother. You didn’t know who won but you scored the last point of the game, and Jake put you on his shoulders to celebrate before tossing you in the water. “You’re a dead man, Seresin !” you shouted, before laughing. Robert helped you out the water and gave you a towel without a word. You silently thanked him and you all took a water break while deciding what to eat.

Reuben and Mickey volunteered to go get the pizzas and while they did, Natasha proposed a volleyball match. She decided that Bob and you would be in her team and you smiled. Bob couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle ; the two of you loved that sport when you were kids. When you went to your grandma's house for the holidays, you used to play against your cousins. Of course, you kicked their ass. They called you the Evil Twins. Once your heads were in the game, you were unstoppable. And Bradley, Jake and Javy would soon understand why you and Bob were so happy to be on the same team.

The two of you didn’t even need to talk to understand the next move of the other. Even Natasha didn’t really understand what was happening. You won the first, then second, then third match. You laughed at the exasperation of Jake and Javy, Bradley on the other hand was just tired of running around. He quit with Natasha, leaving Jake and Javy to find a strategy to strike Bob and you down. “Like the old times huh ?” your twin smiled, giving you a bottle of water. You returned the smile and nodded. “Let’s show them. Evil Twins ?” “Evil Twins.” He clapped his hands with yours with a grin. Oh, the other two weren't ready for the beating they were about to get.

Javy called it quits after the third set. They lost them all and he was getting tired. Jake was pouting while you jumped on your brother’s back. “Evil Twins for the win !” Natasha laughed. You giggled, while Robert ran around like a doofus, you on his back, taunting Jake. "Don't tease him too much, you know he's a sore loser!" sneered Bradley. "Nonsense!" sulked Jake, "I always accept my defeats, except they never happen.” The rest of the team rolled their eyes, both annoyed and amused.

Reuben and Mickey returned with the pizzas, and the rest of the afternoon was less athletic. Some went for a swim, others played cards in the shade of an umbrella. You chatted peacefully with Natasha and Jake, Robert never too far away. Strangely enough, you were glad he stayed close. Sometimes he would join in the conversation, but he remained Bob, preferring to watch and listen rather than talk. It was a nice afternoon, you felt like a teenager on holiday with a bunch of friends. Bradley and Javy started a water fight by grabbing Bob and throwing him in the water. You and Natasha ran at the boys to avenge him and one thing led to another and you all ended up in the water, friendly fighting each other.

The sun slowly got low, the afternoon ending peacefully. You stayed at the bar with the squad, learning more about each one, more about your brother’s ‘new’ life. They told you about their life on base and about the bird strike that Natasha and Bob had suffered from. You scolded your twin because he never told you about it. He defended himself by saying that it was not that big of a deal, but by the looks on the others' faces, you knew he lied.

Part of you was jealous of him. You both left home around the same time, and he seemed so happy now, away from your parents and their intrusive presence, away from your father's demoralizing, degrading and demotivating comments. You couldn't understand how he could be doing so well when you were struggling to find yourself, to be happy. This question echoed in your head and made you feel too much in the room. You excused yourself and went outside for some fresh air. You were pale and shaking, and anxiety was getting the better of you. You tried to ease your breathing and closed your eyes to focus on the sound of the waves in front of you. You could hear the laughter and indescribable conversations in the distance, mingled with the music and singing. It was somewhat peaceful and yet you couldn't calm the flood of painful memories that invaded your mind. Every laugh reminded you of your ex's, every burst of voice a little too loud made you cower. You didn't want to think about it anymore. You wanted to forget everything. You just wanted it to stop. It had to stop. You had to get away from it all. You had to-

“Y/N ? Are you ok ?”

Your brother's gentle voice made everything disappear. You felt yourself breathe again. But you knew it would only be temporary ; because seeing him worried would make you weak and anxious again. You took a deep, shaky breath before turning to him. You tried to hide the tremble of your voice, and put on a fake smile. "It's okay... I... I have to go home. Thanks for today, it was fun!" You passed him in a hurry, still pale and scrapie.

He sighed and bit his lip before summoning his courage. "What are you running from? You... you looked like you were fine, and then all of a sudden you're running away. " "Robby, please-" "What happened?" "Nothing, I-" "Did someone say something?" "No! I just-" "Did I say or do something wrong? Tell me!" "Then let me talk for god’s sake !" you clenched your fists then sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Robby. It's just that... I can't..." your voice cracked a little and you leaned your head back to hold back your tears. Bob's head tilted in concern and he stepped towards you. "Can't what? You can't do what?"

You didn't answer, shaking your head. You couldn't put into words the confusion you felt. You searched for words and began to pace back and forth. "Can't do what Y/N?" Robert insisted gently. "I... fuck... fuck."

Your voice and your whole body were shaking. It was getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. How could you tell your brother that you envied him and hated that feeling ? How could you envy him for building his life, a life filled with healthy loved ones that were there for him? How could you hold a grudge when he was the one who got you out of your abusive relationship at the risk of his acceptance into the naval academy ?

He took another step towards you, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back. "Hey, come on, tell me-" "I can't get over it, okay?! I-I can't figure out how and why you managed to grow up and I'm stuck at 17! Why do I always feel like I'm in pieces, alone, like he 's still running my life, like he 's always there, over my shoulder, no matter what I do?" "Y/N... it wasn't your fault-" "I know!!! I fucking know it wasn't my fault!!” you cut him, almost screaming, “I know he 's the one who did this to me, who pretended to love me, who beat the shit out of me and abused me every single day for months! I know all of that ! Then why am I still stuck there ? Why am I the one still struggling?! Why am I the one who feels like a complete failure ? Why can't I let it go?!" your bottom lip was trembling as tears rolled down your face. “Why can’t I just move on ? Why do I always hear dad saying ‘told you so’ or mom sighing every time I mess up ? Why don’t they ever want to talk about what happened but they urge me to just forget about it ?! Why don't they support me ? Why don’t you ?!”

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, before you whimpered and cried like a baby. Bob stood still for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. He suspected that the events of your past were still haunting you, but not to this extent. And you felt that he didn't support you... he felt like shit. How could he neglect your feelings so much, how could he act the way he blamed your parents? He let you cry against him for a long moment, swallowing his discomfort. He was the one to blame, and he had to focus on you. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N. I... I didn't realize that my behavior was hurting you… I'm just worried, and I didn't show it the right way. I'm an idiot." "A big idiot," you mumbled, sniffling. "Yes, a big idiot. And I'd really like you to let me help you. We... We have contacts with some really good therapists for post-traumatic stress and stuff... I could give you their numbers?" You just nodded, your tears finally stopping. "I'm sorry I yelled at you..." you mumbled. Bob smiled and pinched your side. "Don't be, I deserved it. I’m sorry I tried to interfere between you and Hangman…" “He’s actually a sweet guy behind his smug facade, y'know ?” you smiled and chuckled to his falsely doubtful face and the little 'meh' he let out.

As promised, Bob put you in touch with the therapists he'd told you about, and negotiated a longer return period with your agency. You had a full month and a half more. You started to really work on the singles, and your sessions with the therapist were helping. You knew you'd have to keep seeing one when you got home. But going wasn’t something you wanted to think about. As the days went by, you didn't want to leave San Diego. Your brother and the Dagger Squad were stationed here permanently, and you needed him in your life.

Him and Jake.

You always thought that the two of you were just a fling, that you or he would get tired of it and move on. But neither of you did. You spent more and more time with him, he'd crash at your Airbnb - uninvited - every now and then with a movie or dinner. The more time you spent with him, the more you fell for him and you didn't want it to end as a one-night stand, you knew that much.

As you got to dig beneath his proud, cocky, arrogant facade, you discovered a gentle man full of insecurities. He talked about his father, who was not exactly the ideal role model and the fact that he didn’t have the best of relations with him. He talked about his mama, and with the look he had in his eyes, you knew he worshiped the woman ; based on what he shared, you figured Mrs Seresin was more than strong and dedicated to her children. He told you about his sisters, both of them a couple of years older than him, and his nieces and nephews. He loved the munchkins - his terms, not yours - and you saw in his eyes how much he meant it. They were his whole world, but he’d never admit it.

You tried to take your time with him but he had a strange effect on you ; you found yourself opening up to him, faster than you thought. You'd never told anyone about your abusive relationship - except Robert. And Jake had listened to you without judgment or interruption. He sat there, ready to absorb any information you wanted and were able to share.

So you were torn between your desire to get back to the recording studio in New York, to get back to work, and your desire to stay in the peaceful everyday life you'd created in just a few weeks. You had to go back. You had obligations to keep. Maybe after you fulfilled your part of the contract, you could negotiate and come back to San Diego? This thought was the only thing that kept you working hard. You succeeded in writing three more singles than the agreed two. You were quite pleased with yourself.

And sooner than you realized, you had to go back to New York.

Natasha, with the help of the rest of the team, had organized a little surprise going-away party at the Hard Deck. Penny was in on the secret and had given them the bar to themselves. You loved the surprise and the evening was unforgettable. Bradley had insisted on karaoke, and you dragged your twin along. Robert rolled his eyes, but played along. You had the time of your life and enjoyed every second of this last night with your new friends. They made you promise to call them whenever you could, to think of them and to come back as soon as possible. They took you home and spent a few more hours with you before letting you rest. But just when you thought everyone was gone, you found Jake on the couch, waiting for you. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you saw him there, his eyes anchored in yours. You detailed his face, as if to remember it after you'd left; his slightly wavy blond hair, those beautiful green eyes, his perfect jawline, his cocky smile. That damn smile that made you weak in the knees like a teenager. God, you hated that smile as much as you loved it.

"Enjoying the view?"

You didn't realize that he had stood up and was now so close to you. A deep blush spread across your cheeks and yet you couldn't take your eyes off him, your gaze locked with his. You bit your lip and grinned. "So what if I am, big boy?" you teased. He huffed, amused, and his hand slowly reached for yours, your knuckles brushing. His other hand reached for your cheek, his thumb stroking it tenderly. You leaned into his touch, feeling yourself melt under his gaze. He said nothing, his eyes never leaving you. "What?" you whispered, your heart beating a little faster. "That's how I want to remember you." "Like what? Tipsy and tired?" you laughed a little. "Na. Happy... relaxed... you look beautiful." Jake whispered back, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. Your stomach fluttered and you found the courage to interlock his fingers with yours. "Sounds like I have you under my siren's spell, Lieutenant..." you teased, biting your lip. "You certainly do, ma'am," he whispered again, the gap between the two of you only a few inches. You felt your confidence slip from your fingers, your eyes on his lips.

"Kiss me..."

It's an almost inaudible beg that escaped you, and you didn't even have time to be embarrassed that you felt him on your lips. The kiss was sweet, tender. You squeezed his hand into yours, and his free one slid around your waist, holding you close. You wanted the kiss to last forever. With amazing ease, Jake lifted you against him, his hands going under your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He carried you into the bedroom, his lips exploring yours, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Your fingers brushed through his soft hair and soon you felt your back against the mattress. Your clothes ended up chaotically thrown around the room as you undressed and kissed each other. The moon gave you just enough light to never lose sight of him. His eyes devoured you before his hands discovered your body. He asked you if you were okay every step of the way, and you never thought being asked for consent could be so arousing.

That night was the best sex you've ever had. It was slow and tender at first, and when you were both comfortable enough, it got rougher, in a good way. You fell asleep curled up against him, rocked by his heartbeat.

The next morning you woke up alone in bed. Jake left a note on the nightstand, saying he had to go to work early. "Call me when you can, have a safe flight. PS: Gonna miss you. PPS: If anything happens to you on the flight, I'll hunt the pilot." You chuckled and tucked the post-it into your notebook. You quickly got ready and Robert took you to the airport.

The ride was rather quiet, neither of you wanting to be separated again. He helped you with your luggage and waited with you until you finally had to go. You hugged him tightly and thanked him for the past weeks. "Call me when you get there, okay? And don't forget to hydrate. And eat. And..." "Ok Dad," you joked with a smile, "I'll call you, don't worry. Love you, Robby." "I love you too. Be safe."

8 months.

You have been stuck in New York for 8 long months. You did a lot though. A new album, some concerts, some interviews and photo shoots. The 'scandals' in the press disappeared and the journalists finally focused more on your songs. You video called the Daggers as much as you could - almost every day - and texted a lot with your brother, reassuring him that you continued to see a therapist and that you were doing well under the stress. But the one you called and texted the most was Jake. Every day you had a sweet good morning text, and every night you had an equally sweet good night text.

You missed him.

You missed them all, of course. But Jake Seresin was under your skin. And as hard as it was to admit, you loved him. You couldn't wait to see him again. Of course, no one knew you were together. Natasha seemed to have doubts, and sometimes Bob was somewhat suspicious too but as long as they didn’t ask you didn’t say anything.

8 months of hard work and your agent agreed to let you go to San Diego as he made an arrangement between a recording studio and your label. You told no one but Penny. You wanted to surprise the team. You had one last show to do in New York and then you would catch your flight to California.

Before the concert, you called your brother, knowing that he would probably be at the Hard Deck with the others, since it was almost 7:00 p.m there. As soon as he answered, you could hear the team around him. "Wow, look at you Nemesis! You look great!" Natasha said, smiling broadly. You laughed and thanked her when you heard the other whistle and complimented you. "Not too stressed?" Bob asked as the others calmed down. "Well, it's the last show for at least six weeks. I’ll try to make it fun!" "Of course you will," said a voice you recognized immediately. "Hangman, you look good," you teased as you saw him appear on the screen. You noticed the slight blush on his cheeks as he spotted you in your dress and makeup. He didn't have time to reply that you had to go on stage. "Ok bye guys, gotta go, love you!" you hung up and had time to see a text message on your phone : 'You better keep that dress'. You smiled. You may have fallen in love with Jake, but you also knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

The show went smoothly, and after a celebratory dinner with your team, you went back to your soon-to-be-outdated apartment. All your things were packed and ready to go. You couldn't wait to move to San Diego. Your flight was at 3 pm in New York and you were scheduled to land in California at 6 pm. Bless the time zone difference, if you were lucky, you could get to the Hard Deck before the team and wait for them.

But since nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, your flight was an hour late. That wasn't too bad, you could still surprise them, you just had to change the way. You contacted Penny and asked her if she could manage to distract them. She agreed and gave you permission to use the back door to be more discreet when you entered. Your excitement was through the roof, you felt like a child on Christmas Day. By the time your cab reached the bar, your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe you were finally there, finally where you felt at home. But you had to be reunited with those you considered family to feel completely at home. You almost ran to the back door of the bar, re-reading the instructions Penny had sent you: she'd distract the Daggers by asking them to bring back some heavy beer packs and other beverages, and you could hide discreetly by the pool table.

The perfect plan.

You did as she said, a smile forming on your lips as you heard your friends in the distance. You were stressed, but not in an anxious way, you just couldn't wait. You picked up a pool cue to keep your hands busy. When you finally heard them coming, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming ‘surprise!’. The first person to spot you was Mickey. His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, almost tripping Reuben, Natasha and Javy. They didn't have time to grumble before Mickey pointed at you, speechless. A small laugh escaped you as they froze in front of you, one after the other. Only Jake, Bradley and Robert were missing. Bradley and your twin were chatting, a little bit behind, and you soon heard Robert's voice.

"Are you guys okay? You look like you've seen a ghost..." His voice became almost inaudible at the end of his sentence, as he realized they were all staring at you. You smiled at them and tilted your head. "Are we playing, or are you afraid of losing?" you asked with a bit of a laugh. Natasha couldn't hold back her laughter and almost ran to hug you. "It's good to see you again, Mini Floyd."

The others came right after to greet you, hugging you and sometimes lifting you off the ground. You laughed, happy to see them again. Your twin was still frozen, not believing his eyes. You scooted up to him and pinched his cheeks. "Good evening Robby, did you-" You didn't even have time to finish your sentence before he pulled you into his arms. You smiled and hugged him as tightly as you could, small tears of joy escaping from both of you. "It's good to see you," he finally said, "Missed your stupid face.” "Oh I know you did, you can't live without me dearest brother !" you chuckled. You caught up with everyone, admitting that you were on a break, but not telling them that you were here for good. You wanted everyone to be here to make that announcement but someone was missing.

You paid for your round of beers - and sparkling water for Bob - and went looking for Jake. Why wasn't he here? Penny grinned as she noticed the look on your face. "Don't worry Y/N, he's just on the phone with his sister. One of his nephews' birthdays, I think." "Thanks Pen- Wait, what are you-" "I know everything dear, he talks too much for his own good if you ask the good questions." "How did you find out?" you whispered, making sure no one was listening. "Well, it wasn't really hard. Some of your interviews or shows have been aired," she pointed at the old TV, "and the calls you made ; he just had that look in his eyes. I can tell when a man is head over heels. He certainly is."

You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. Of course she'd guessed; Penny knew the squadron like her own children. She chuckled and handed you another beer. “Go surprise him.” You smiled and nodded, heading to the front door. Your heart fluttered when you finally heard Jake’s voice. It was hushed but you could feel his smile through his soft laughter. You waited for him to end his call, still hidden by the door. You bit back a chuckle when you heard him saying goodbye to the kids with a baby voice. It was ridiculously adorable.

“Hello stranger, does that pretty voice have a name ? ”

He was a bit startled and turned to you hastily, not believing his ears. A surprised expression appeared on his face, but a flirtatious smile quickly took its place. "That's my line, baby." "Oh really? Supposed I forgot," You grinned proudly and took a step towards him, "Did ya miss me, big boy?" He grinned and grabbed your waist, sending a sweet shiver down your spine. "Not as much as you missed me." You rolled your eyes in amusement and set the beer you had brought him aside. You took a moment to just drown in his green eyes, the light of the sunset making them look surreal. How could he be so handsome ?

He was quite speechless to have you here, it made you smile. Jake was always so talkative, it was strange to have him so quiet around you. "Cat got your tongue, Seresin?" He chuckled and stroked your cheek. "Why don't you check?" You smiled and finally kissed him. You had waited 8 months for this feeling and it was just so good. His soft lips against yours, his strong hands on your waist, fingers digging lightly into your flesh. You put your hands on his neck, parted your lips to let his tongue reach for yours. One of his hands slid up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch as the kiss ended. "I have to admit, I missed that," he whispered with a grin, his forehead pressed gently against yours. You huffed and rolled your eyes, "Told you I had you under my spell." He laughed and kissed the nape of your neck, holding you close. You smiled and stroked his hair before stepping back. "Let's join the team before ‘Tasha gets suspicious."

You took his hand and headed inside, eager to tell your friends the big news.

You missed the atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The soft songs from the jukebox, the always nice patrons, your favorite people at the pool table or playing darts... everything was so comforting. Your smile widened when you reached the Daggers, dragging Jake with you. "Look who I found outside," you teased, "good old Hangman.” "Ah, you should have let him out," Bradley sneered, sipping his beer. “Real funny Bradshaw, I know you already missed me.”

You let the two men fight like two children and when you noticed Natasha's eyes on your hand in Jake's, you blushed a little. She grinned and whispered something to Reuben. You could read a little 'damn it !' on his lips as he frowned. "Okay guys, Javy and I won! The bet is over!" "What? No!" Bradley was outraged. He grumbled and handed Natasha a bill. "Wait a minute, what bet?" your twin asked. "Well, my dear Bob, it seems that our little Jake and your sister... are together." You blushed and wanted to hide, not knowing how your brother would react. Jake was already arguing with Javy, telling him he was a traitor for betting on it, since he had confided in him on the subject.

"Oh, I've known for a while," Robert said simply with a smile. "What?!" you huffed, letting go of your boyfriend's hand to face your twin. "What do you mean you knew?" "Well, for starters, Jake stayed with you the night before you went back to New York. And you hid the hickey he left on your neck badly. Then I got suspicious when every time we ended our video calls, he got one in the next two minutes; and he's not the most discreet when he's on the phone. But I knew it when he bought that really nice necklace and asked me, of all people, for advice. A week later you were wearing it. So yeah, I knew," he shrugged with a smile, laughing a little at your expression. "What? I just thought that neither of you were ready to tell anyone? But you seem happy so it's okay."

You were surprised. You didn't think he'd take it so well, but you weren't going to complain.

So the evening began with a secret revealed. You didn't hesitate to stay close to Jake, even ending up on his lap when the bar was full. You listened to their adventures from the last few months - at least what they were allowed to share. It was good to be with them again, to find that comfort. After Mickey bought his round, he turned to you. "Well, let's ask the burning question: how long are you staying?" "To tell you the truth... I'm not leaving. I'm moving into my little house 10 minutes from here tomorrow," you smiled. "And you didn't tell me?!" said Jake and Bob at the same time, making them blush under the laughter of the others. "I wanted to surprise you! I've got a new deal with my label, so I can stay here." "Cheers to that! To the definitive return of Y/N Nemesis Floyd," Bradley decreed, raising his beer.

You all laughed and toasted each other, happy with the news.

All was finally well.

You had finally found your place, and you wouldn't change it for the world.

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #post movie top gun maverick #twin brother!bob floyd #robert floyd #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #natasha trace #penny benjamin #javy machado #mickey garcia #reuben fitch #pov second person #angst with a happy ending

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romana-after-dark · 4 months

Text

Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting. Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

TAGLIST:

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado

if I missed you LMK!!!!

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floralpascal · 2 years

Text

Heartbeat - Part 1

Summary: When you cuddle up on Frankie to watch a movie, his rapid heartbeat makes you question if he has feelings for you, too.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: kissing, (semi-public) dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, protected p-in-v sex (let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: This started out as a short fluffy fic and it turned into this. My mind goes straight into the gutter for this man. It’s my first time ever writing smut, so I’m a little nervous, but I hope you all enjoy!

Part 2

Friday night movie night at Benny’s with the guys was a rare treat that you thoroughly enjoyed, even if watching a movie with all four of them at the same time was a pain in the ass. Benny and Santi were always talking over the movie and if the movie had any sort of action, they would all start commenting on how unrealistic it was. If the movie had anything to do with the military, all you heard for the entire two hours was how every small thing was actually incredibly inaccurate.

Though you would feign annoyance every time, you secretly loved it. Even if you never actually got to watch the movie, you got enough entertainment from the guys.

Not to mention that you somehow always ended up sitting next to Frankie, the man you had a hopeless crush on for years. Even if you sat in a different spot for movie night, Frankie was there next to you. He would often lean over to you to whisper jokes about whatever movie you were watching, completely oblivious to the way it gave you goosebumps every time.

Tonight was no different. You sat down on the couch with the popcorn bowl, Frankie coming to join you not long after. He plopped down to your right, stealing a handful of popcorn as he did. The popcorn bowl gave you a reason to lean in close to him as Benny started the movie and Will turned off the lights. Santi took the seat on the other side of the couch from you and Frankie. Benny laid sprawled out on the loveseat like always and Will took his usual spot in Benny’s huge recliner.

Nearly an hour into the movie - and about fifteen different interruptions from Santi and Benny later - you had begun to shiver, curling in on yourself in an attempt to warm yourself up. Frankie noticed immediately.

“You need a blanket?” He whispered to you, only loud enough for you to hear over the blaring movie, leaning in close enough to send a shiver down your spine for a different reason. You nodded, setting the now-empty popcorn bowl on the table beside the couch.

He twisted to his right to grab the blanket behind Santi’s head on the back of the couch. When he brought the blanket closer, you thought he would simply hand it to you. Instead, he flicked the blanket out and draped it across the both of you. You smiled as he turned to you then, moving to lay his arm on the back of the couch behind you, arm open in a silent invitation for you to get closer. He met your smile with a polite, slightly bashful one of his own.

You readily accepted, curling into his side and laying your head on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders to tuck you into his side. You had completely forgotten about the movie now, opting instead to focus on how the heat from his body soaked through the fabric of his clothes to warm your skin. After a moment though, you noticed that you could hear his heartbeat with where your head was placed on his chest, just above his heart. You wouldn’t have noticed if not for how fast it beat, going at nearly the same rapid pace as your own.

After a few minutes, you shifted to look at his face, a movement that drew his attention from the screen to you. He looked calm, his demeanor not matching the way his heart raced. The only thing that seemed off was how intense his brown eyes had suddenly become as he gazed down at you.

“Everything okay?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t help but dip your gaze down to his lips as he spoke, a movement that did not seem to go unnoticed by Frankie.

You had wanted to ask him the same question. You didn’t want to broach the subject now, not with the soft way he was looking at you.

“Yeah,” you affirmed. You noticed his eyes flick down to your lips this time before meeting your gaze again. “Thank you, Frankie.”

“Anything for you.”

You both stayed like that, faces inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze down to his lips again for a fraction of a second, his own following suit once again. His warm hand came to lightly press against your back. Frankie began to lean in-

BOOM!

You and Frankie jumped, turning to see the aftermath of the explosion on the TV screen.

“That would not blow up like that in real life!” Santi grumbled on the other side of the couch. Murmurs of agreement came from Benny and Will. They all seemed to be engrossed in the movie, not noticing the moment that had passed between you and Frankie in the dark.

You gave an awkward chuckle, shaking your head. When you turned back to Frankie, his eyes were already on you, a small smile on his lips. Maybe it was just the dark, but you thought he looked anxious now, a slight crinkle appearing in his brow.

You shuffled back into his side, once again laying your head on his chest. His heart was beating even faster than before.

Was it…you? Was his heart beating this fast because of you? Your mind wheeled from the moment you had shared with him. Had he been about to kiss you?

You spent the rest of the movie curled up against Frankie. You were no longer cold. In fact, you felt like you were burning up now with the way your body was pressed against his. Frankie’s heart rate barely slowed. You looked at the screen, but you weren’t really watching, your focus staying with the melodic beat under you, with the way that his fingers lightly fidgeted with the edge of the blanket that laid on your thighs, the way you could feel his breath rise and fall.

When the movie was over, you reluctantly sat up off of Frankie. Santi wandered off to the bathroom while Benny beelined it to the kitchen. When Will flipped the light back on, you could finally see Frankie completely again. He looked at you as if he wanted to say something, his eyebrows drawn and mouth open.

“Fish!” Benny called from the kitchen. “Do you want to take the leftover pizza home?”

Frankie rolled his eyes, deflating a little. “No,” he called back, “it’s all yours, man.”

Benny then called your name. “You want it?”

“No. Just take it if you want it, Ben.”

“Thanks, guys!”

You laughed, standing up from the couch. You stretched for a moment, feeling stiff from sitting for so long. Your shirt rose up as you stretched, a sliver of skin above your waistline exposed to the cold air. When you looked back at Frankie, he quickly averted his gaze from where he had been watching you, suddenly very interested in his phone.

Was he… checking you out now? You wondered if you were imagining everything that was happening between you or if you were just interpreting it all wrong.

Twenty minutes later, everyone was wrapping up for the night. Santi and Will left together, Will going to drop Santi off at his house on his way home. You and Frankie, inevitably, we’re the last ones to leave. He walked you out to your car in Benny’s driveway, making small talk with you about your week. He still looked so calm, no hints evident on his face that his heart had been racing for the past hour like he had been running a marathon.

When you arrived at your car, Frankie stopped, suddenly seeming nervous. Once again, he started to say something before deciding otherwise, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. Instead of whatever he had wanted to say, he simply said, “Goodnight, hermosa.”

Hermosa. He had never called you that before.

You mumbled out a goodnight in response, your mind whirring. Frankie gave you a tight smile before turning to head towards his truck.

Your hand reached for your car door handle before freezing. Something was there between you two. It was right there, just out of reach. But if you let him go, you knew that the next time you saw each other you would be back at square one, as friends and nothing more. Neither of you would broach the subject again. You thought for a moment before whipping around to look for him again.

“Frankie?” You called, catching him as he was rounding his truck bed. His head snapped up from where he was looking at the ground.

“Yeah?” His wide eyes stared at you from the other side of his truck. You thought you saw a flash of hope cross his face.

You made the decision then. You ran around his truck, praying that your suspensions were correct and trying not to lose your nerve. As you approached him, he gave you a quizzical look. Before he could say anything, you were up against him, hands lightly cupping his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

It was a short kiss. You pulled away a few seconds later, Frankie chasing your lips slightly before his eyes snapped open again. You dropped your hands, too afraid that you had misjudged his feelings for you to stay close.

He looked utterly stunned. You could see as his mind worked to try to catch up to what you had just done. He blinked once, twice, before he closed the distance between you again, his soft, warm lips colliding with yours as he buried a hand in your hair and his other snaked around your waist to pull you closer.

Your own hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, grabbing onto his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer.

It was a desperate, hungry, all-consuming kiss. Frankie kissed like it was the last thing he would ever do. He kissed like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

You broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath. “Frankie,” you whispered.

Frankie pulled back, both of his hands moving to cup your chin. His eyes were hooded now, the way he was looking at you sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. “I wanted to kiss you so bad. In there. I didn’t know if you… if you…”

You nodded, bringing your hands to grasp at his wrists. “I do. I have for a long time.”

“Me too, cariño,” he sighed. His thumb rubbed over your cheek and you leaned into his hand. “You were all I could think about tonight. Hell, you’re all I can ever think about.”

“I didn’t pay attention to the movie at all,” you admitted. “Just you.”

“I don’t even know what that damn movie was even about.”

“Whatever it was, it was loud.”

Frankie chuckled before becoming more serious again. “So where do we go from here?”

You shook your head slightly. “I have no idea. Just kiss me again, Frankie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It didn’t seem that Frankie needed to be told twice. In one swift motion, he grabbed the hat from his head, tossed it on the top of the truck, and leaned down to kiss you again, now without the hindrance of his hat in the way. He kissed you so hard you felt dizzy within mere seconds. All that mattered was him, that he felt the same, that he wanted you.

You swore you hadn’t meant for the next kiss to turn heated. You couldn’t even remember how the kiss that followed had taken a turn from sweet to something more. But now you were pressed between Frankie’s chest and the cold metal of his truck as his lips moved against yours and his hands explored unknown territory.

Neither of you could get enough of each other. Every one of your senses were fully focused on one thing: Frankie. Kissing him, you were quickly finding, was an activity that demanded all of your attention. Everything else seemed to fade away, replaced only with the press of him against you, the way he moved, the way he pulled you against him. The insistence he kissed you with sent you soaring.

After a while, his lips strayed away from yours, teeth lightly nipping as he made his way maddeningly down your neck. One of your hands grasped at his shoulder, the other lightly tugging his soft curls as his lips found the tender space between your neck and shoulder. You gasped a soft Frankie when you felt his teeth graze against your skin there, your body slightly arching against his. You could feel him smile against your shoulder in response before he continued to kiss any bit of skin he could find.

As he pressed against you, you could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against your hip. He was getting hard from this. It gave you the confidence you needed to roll your hips slightly against his, causing a small groan to fall from Frankie’s lips on your shoulder. He rasped your name as he gave a testing roll of his own, sending a spark of pleasure through you.

He moved back up to kiss you properly, a new fire behind his kiss now, and you pushed against him again. Another spark of pleasure spread through you, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many layers between you two, you so desperately needed-

“Hey!”

For the second time that night, you both jumped. Frankie’s hands locked around your waist as you both looked to see Benny standing on his porch, his front door wide open. From the light spilling out of the open door, you could see that he wasn’t even trying to hide the shit-eating grin he had on his face.

“I’m happy for you guys, kiss all you want, it’s about damn time,” Benny yelled over to you both. “But you two are not gonna fuck in my driveway, okay? Take that shit home. Get a room. Something.”

You laughed, slightly embarrassed that you had been caught so close to doing something with Frankie in your friend’s driveway, and buried your face in Frankie’s chest. You had completely forgotten where you were, too caught up in Frankie to care.

“Fuck off, Benny,” Frankie called half-heartedly, chuckling a little as he pulled you closer. He turned his back to Benny and hugged you to him, as if hiding you from Benny’s view would save you from some of the embarrassment. It also helped to hide his surely-noticeable erection from his friend. His hands moved to your back, rubbing circles as you giggled into his chest even more.

“I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere, Fish, and this is it. It didn’t look like you two were slowing down anytime soon. You guys have a good night, just have it somewhere else.” Benny grabbed his door handle and started to go back inside. He yelled over his shoulder, “Also, Santi owes me $50 now, so thanks guys!”

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Frankie once again. You pulled away enough to see him. The smile that was still plastered on his face sent your heart soaring.

“They had a bet going on us?” You asked.

Frankie shrugged. “It’s news to me.”

You shook your head.

“Do you - Um…” Frankie started self-consciously, one of his hands leaving your side to scratch at the back of his neck. “Do you…want to come home with me?”

You almost couldn’t believe that the man you had been practically dry humping out in the open was asking you that like he thought you wouldn’t want to.

“I do, Frankie.”

“You don’t think it’s too fast? I don’t want you to think that I just want a quick fuck or just a one-time thing or-”

“Frankie,” you interrupted. You moved to whisper into his ear, “I don’t want just some quick fuck either. I don’t want a one-time thing. I want you. If you want me, take me home.”

The groan that came from the back of his throat filled you with excitement. He pulled back, his hand coming to your cheek, and kissed you hard.

“I want you. Fuck, I want you.” He kissed you again before telling you, his self-consciousness gone, “Hop in the truck, cariño. I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow.”

Benny would just have to deal with your car in his driveway for the night. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about it at the moment.

Frankie opened the driver‘s door for you, allowing you to step up into the truck and slide down the bench seat enough to let him into the driver's seat. On his way in, he retrieved his hat from the roof and tossed it in the back of the cab as he sat down. You had never seen him toss his favorite hat so carelessly before, like it was something that was only getting in his way at the moment.

You had been to Frankie’s house countless times before. You had even ridden with him in his truck on his way to his house. But you had never gone like this. You had never been able to sit right up against him. You had never had his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles. You had never had this much anticipation between the two of you.

Frankie was the most focused you had ever seen him as he drove. You wondered if this is how he looked when he would fly: concentrated on his destination, his movements deft and calculated. The hand he had on the steering wheel was gripped tight, his fingers lifting periodically before curling tight around the wheel again.

You raked your eyes over him, bathed in the light of the passing streetlights. On a normal day, Frankie’s pants didn’t leave much to the imagination. They fit a little too well, which was something that had haunted you for years. But now you could see so much more as he strained against the confines of his jeans. He was big, that you already knew, but now you were starting to get an idea of just how big.

You began to play with his hair, carding your fingers through the brown waves of unruly curls while Frankie raced home.

“Cariño,” he rasped out, his voice strained, “if you keep doing that, I’m gonna have to pull over and take you on the side of the road. I’m barely hanging on here, baby.”

You gave him a mischievous grin, continuing to run your hand through his hair. “Why don’t you then?”

He turned his attention from the road to you for a moment, letting his eyes sweep you up and down. He looked hungry and disheveled, a combination that you had never seen from him before but already couldn’t wait to see again. It made your heart race. You could see him consider it, pulling over somewhere secluded and finally fucking you. For a second, you thought he might actually do it. But then he shook his head resolutely and answered, “Because you deserve better… and I’m gonna need a lot more space to work.”

The promise in his words filled you with anticipation.

After what felt like an eternity, you arrived in Frankie’s driveway. He ripped the keys from the ignition before he opened the door and scrambled to get out. He immediately turned to offer you his hand to help you out of the truck. You took it and hopped out, Frankie closing the door behind you.

Then, Frankie was on you, his hand cupping your jaw and his lips finding yours once again. He broke away, leaning back to see you, his rich brown eyes drinking you in.

“Come on, bonita,” he said, taking your hand in his. He led you up the old wooden steps to his front door. Of all the times you had followed him up those same steps, you never thought it would be for this reason. That your hand would be in his, the taste of his lips still on yours, with more to come. You took a breath to steady your own racing pulse.

He hastily fiddled with his keys before fitting one into the lock and turning. He shoved the door open, turning to walk backwards through the entryway as he pulled you closer to kiss you again. Once you had cleared the door, Frankie reached out blindly to grab the door and push it closed behind you.

You quickly realized that Frankie had been quite well-behaved in Benny’s driveway, all things considered.

You felt his tongue ask for entrance, which you immediately granted. He kissed you with a fervor that made you dizzy as his tongue met yours. His hands were on you once again, exploring and grasping at whatever they could find. One hand pulled your hips flush with his again and the other found the skin of your back under your shirt.

Your arms were thrown over Frankie’s shoulders, grasping at the back of his shirt and neck. You felt just as desperate as him, years of pining for him finally pouring out.

After a while, your fingers found their way to the buttons of his shirt, hastily undoing them one-by-one. Once you had undone the last one, he helped you shrug the cloth from his shoulders. Your hands came to rest on his bare chest, your right hand just above where your head had been laying just less than an hour ago. Under your touch, you could feel his heart race just as it had earlier.

Then, Frankie found the edge of your shirt and lifted it over your head. Though he had seen you in a bathing suit before, he took you in like he was seeing you for the first time. Then he looked you in the eyes, his arms wrapping around your middle. You felt his fingers hook onto the clasp of your bra and then freeze.

“Can I?” he asked, almost at a whisper. You realized it was a bigger question than just that. He was checking to make sure you still wanted this. That you still wanted your relationship to move past being just friends. He was giving you a chance to stop, to go back before you both strayed too far away from the friendship you had known for years.

Like you could ever go back after even simply kissing Frankie. You nodded, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to his jaw.

Frankie worked the clasp undone and drew the straps down your arms. Once you were free of it, you saw the way his breath picked up as he took you in. He kissed you again, bringing your chest flush to his. Hands roamed your bare back as he walked you both backwards, his lips finding yours once again.

You hadn’t realized where Frankie had guided you until the back of your thighs met a hard object. Frankie broke only enough to speak, his lips still brushing yours, “Hop up here, baby.”

You turned to see that he had backed you up against his kitchen table. You did as he said, coming to sit at the edge and immediately making space for him between your legs. He connected your lips once again, one hand on your hip and the other coming to palm your breast.

“Can I taste you, cariño?” He asked breathlessly, his voice low.

You nodded, giving him an adamant and breathless yes automatically.

Frankie grabbed your hips and gently pulled you closer to the edge. You watched as he pulled back and dropped to his knees, his broad shoulders coming to rest between your thighs. He guided your underwear down your legs, throwing them to the ground once he had freed you from them. His brown eyes were blown black with lust as he took in the sight of your dripping core.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he admired. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve thought about this. How you would taste. How you would sound…”

“You thought about it?”

Frankie smiled, leaning closer to you. “More than you know.”

“I have, too.” You returned his smile. However, it lasted only a moment before your eyes snapped shut and your mouth dropped open as Frankie’s tongue met your folds for the first time, licking a stripe from your dripping hole to your clit. He then moved to focus on your clit with a proficiency that already had your breath hitching, devouring you like a man starved.

You couldn’t have stopped the moan that fell from your lips if you tried. One hand came to grasp at his curls, the other moving behind you to prop yourself up on the table. He grabbed your shins and tossed them over his shoulders for leverage.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby,” he cooed, his hot breath hitting your core. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “Let me hear you, don’t hold back.”

He kept his eyes locked on you as he brought his tongue to your clit once again. His brown eyes looked so sweet compared to the absolutely sinful way his mouth was working at you.

You let your moans run free. After he changed speeds, a high-pitched Frankie fell from your lips, eliciting a moan from him. The vibrations from it rocked through you. When you breathed out his name again, you got the same maddening response from him. You realized that he liked it when you said his name like this. No problem. You could already tell that you would be saying it a lot tonight.

Your cries of his name only seemed to spur him on, his pace increasing as his hands wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place. He seemed to learn from every moan and every movement of your body what sent you higher.

Soon enough, you could feel the red hot coil in your stomach building, pulling taut.

“F-Frankie, I’m close,” you gasped out. “Don’t stop.”

With a few more calculated swipes of his tongue over your clit, the tension finally snapped. You closed your eyes again as your head dropped back and you cried out. Waves of ecstasy washed over you as Frankie drew out your release, his head trapped between your thighs. As you came down, he moved lower to gather your slick on his tongue.

He passed his tongue over your sensitive clit a few more times, eying the way your muscles jumped from the attention. The lust and adoration evident on his face nearly leveled you as he stared up at you.

“Can you give me another like this?” he asked, his voice gravelly, mustache and beard glistening with your slick, before giving another testing swipe at your folds.

Oh, fuck. You hadn’t ever been with someone who enjoyed eating you out like Frankie seemed to. You were starting to see that Frankie had been telling the truth: he didn’t intend on a quick fuck. He was a patient and attentive man - you were beginning to see just how much.

In your haze, you mumbled out a yes. Frankie smiled.

“Lay back, cariño. Let me take care of you.” His hand came to your chest to guide you to lay back onto the table. The cold of the wood was in stark contrast to the heat of your skin and the heat of Frankie’s mouth as it met your folds again.

You were lost in the feeling of him, one hand gripping the edge of the table and the other finding its way back to Frankie’s hair. Just as you began to adjust to his speed and pattern, he would change it again, quickly sending you higher than you thought possible. Moans of oh fuck, Frankie and just like that poured from your mouth.

The tension began to build again, quicker this time. You lifted your head off the hard wood to watch as he closed his eyes and savored the taste of you. That was all it took to send you toppling over the edge once again.

He kept working at you until you had come down from your high and lightly pushed him away from your overstimulated clit. Frankie gave one last, savoring lick to your hole, savoring every last drop of your slick. He pulled away, licking his lips as he groaned, “Fuck, you’re so sweet.”

Breathing hard, you sat up and gently guided him up from between your legs, bringing his face to yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, his lips still wet as they met yours. Frankie’s tongue moved against yours with the same skill as when he was eating you out.

“Frankie, that was-”

“Just the warm-up,” he finished for you, leaning his forehead on yours. He hadn’t even fucked you yet and you were already wrecked just from his mouth alone. You couldn’t imagine what you would be like later if that was just the beginning.

“Well, that was a hell of a warmup.”

You kissed him again, wrapping your legs around his hips, your arms once again over his shoulders. Frankie took full advantage of the position, pulling your lower half to his and snaking an arm under you to pick you up from the table. He carried you to his bedroom - a place that you had only seen glimpses of a few times before - without even having to break your kiss. He flopped you down onto his bed, causing you to giggle as he climbed to hover over you and kiss you again.

You reached up to pull at his belt, trying to undo the leather. Once you had gotten it undone, you switched your focus to his jeans.

“Need these off,” you panted against his lips. You weren’t unaware of the slight air of desperation that had slipped into your voice.

Frankie shed his pants and boxers and discarded them to the floor. And, shit, he was big. You had guessed from what you had seen and felt earlier that he would be, but it was another thing to see it confirmed.

You brought your hand to his weeping cock, giving him a few testing strokes. Frankie let out a small groan, his hips rocking forward in your grip a bit. You continued to pump him in your hand for a while, trailing kisses along his jaw before he stopped you, his hand coming to your wrist and his lips capturing yours.

“Querida, I’m not gonna last like this,” he said. ”I wanna be inside you when I come.”

“Please. I need you, Frankie.”

“Not yet, baby. I need to get you ready first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Logically, with how big he was you knew that you should, but that didn’t seem to matter to you at the moment. You tried to protest, to tell him that you didn’t care, you just needed him now, but he shook his head, a wicked grin on his face. He drew out his next words teasingly, “Greedy, aren’t you, baby?”

Your brain shut off, butterflies stirring in your stomach at his words. Like there was anything you wouldn’t let him do when he talked to you like that.

You gasped as he slipped a finger into you and started to pump in and out. His finger was bigger and longer than your own, already hitting a spot you could never seem to reach with your own fingers. He started building up his pace as he began to kiss down your neck like he had earlier in the night. This time though, you could feel him suck lightly as he went, surely leaving bruises in his wake.

You bucked your hips up, his one finger no longer enough.

“Need more, baby,” you whined, all care for how desperate you sounded gone. All that mattered to you now was the drag of his finger inside you and the way he sucked at the tender area just above your collarbone.

He slipped a second finger into your heat as he murmured, “That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

His fingers were so much bigger than yours, two of his feeling like three of your own, stretching you as he built his pace back up again. It burned in the best way, radiating pleasure through you.

You arched against him as he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made your toes curl.

“Right there, Frankie!”

“Come on, cariño. Come for me again and I’ll give you what you want.”

You were so close, teetering on the edge maddeningly as he worked his fingers in and out. Suddenly, he added a third finger. It was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge. Your orgasm rocked through you as you clenched down on his fingers. He continued to work them in and out as much as he could with the way you were gripping him.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “God, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Once your orgasm had subsided, he slipped his fingers out and brought them to his lips. He sucked your slick from them eagerly, like he hadn’t just tasted you earlier.

“Frankie, baby,” you panted, “I need you to fuck me.” You could feel his hard length against your hip and you bucked against him. He had made you come three times already and you were still desperate to have him inside you.

“I don’t think I could wait any longer if I tried,” he admitted. Frankie reached over to his bedside table and pulled a foil package from the drawer. He ripped it open with his teeth before taking the condom to roll over his length.

You reached out to take him in your hand again, giving him a few more strokes before you went to line him up with you.

His mouth came to yours as he made the first push into you. You both let out moans, your high-pitched one contrasting with his low one. He made shallow thrusts, each time sinking deeper into you. Even after trying to get you ready for him, it was a stretch to fit him. You had thought his fingers had stretched you. They were nothing compared to this.

“You’re so fucking tight, cariño,” he grunted. “Squeezing me so tight.”

“You’re so big,” you responded breathlessly.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“No, no,” you hastily whined. “Feels so good.”

After a few more thrusts, he finally buried himself to the hilt in you. Then, he stopped, pulling another whine from you. You rocked your hips, trying to feel the friction, but one hand came down to still your hip.

“Just a second. Fuck, don’t move,” he told you shakily. He took deep breaths in, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just give me a second or I’m not gonna last.”

You let him be for a moment, but then you couldn’t stop yourself from softly begging him to move.

He let out one last breath before nodding. He connected your lips again, starting to rock his hips into yours in long, slow strokes. You wrapped your legs around his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts. The hand that wasn’t propping him up came to grip at your ass and thigh over his hip.

His kiss started slow, but incredibly insistent. However, as his pace increased, so did the heat in his kiss.

“You feel so good,” Frankie mumbled against your lips. “You’re so fucking perfect, cariño. Like this pussy was made for me.”

He continued to murmur to you as he fucked you. About how badly he had wanted you all these years. How he couldn’t ever think clearly when you were around. How beautiful you were. You returned it, telling him that he was all you had wanted since you had met. He shuddered before his grip tightened on your skin, his next few strokes harder than before.

You moved to bury your hands in his hair as you gave him a bruising kiss. You ran your tongue along his lips and he quickly gave you entrance.

It was so good, but you needed more and you could tell Frankie was holding back. He wasn’t allowing himself to go as fast or as rough as he wanted. You could feel it in the way he would let up if he felt himself move a little too hard or a little too fast. But that’s what you needed.

“Harder,” you pleaded. “Fuck me harder. I can take it.”

Your previous observation about him had been right: Frankie wasn’t the kind of man who needed to be told twice.

Frankie nearly growled before he smashed his lips to yours messily. He snapped his hips against yours at a new, blistering pace. He hit that spongy spot deep inside you over and over. You broke from his kiss to moan out, your head tipping back into the pillow. He took advantage of your position to attach his lips to your neck once again, kissing and sucking wherever he could.

“Oh, fuck, Francisco!” You cried. You clawed at his back, searching for purchase over the muscled expanse, the way he was fucking into you absolutely devastating. “Just like that!”

His hips stuttered before he groaned into your ear, deep and desperate, “Say it again.”

Even through the haze, you knew what he meant, what he really wanted to hear.

“Francisco,” you whined. In the past, you had sometimes called him by his full name when you were joking around with him. You were the only person he even let call him that at all. With revelation that he liked it when you said Frankie, you now knew why he let you call him Francisco. The difference was that now you were completely serious, letting it drip from your tongue over and over like a prayer.

“I need you to come, baby,” Frankie grunted as he moved against you. “I’m close, but I need you to come first.”

Nothing that came from your mouth was comprehensible other than his name. You were so far gone, climbing higher than you had thought possible, the coil in your stomach continuing to tighten as he slammed in and out of you. Rather than snapping, the tension just kept building and building.

Suddenly, Frankie got a better grip against the thigh under his hand, moving your leg to rest higher on his torso, your other leg following suit almost automatically. He was deeper now, completely filling you as you cried out.

After a few more strokes, your orgasm barreled into you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. The breath was knocked out of you from the force of it. You clenched around him hard as he worked you through it, your legs locked and spasming around his torso. Waves of pleasure rolled over you.

“That’s it. That’s it…” he murmured into your ear. He kept moving in and out of you as much as he could, drawing your orgasm out.

Once it had subsided, he began to build back up to his previous place, chasing his own high. You threaded one hand through his hair, the other grasping at his back as you held on.

You gave a tug on his hair and his rhythm faltered. You did it again, this time while whispering into his ear, high and breathy, “Come for me, Francisco. Let go, baby.”

That seemed to be all he needed to send him careening over the edge. He let out a strangled sound, fucking into you three more times before his hips stilled, buried deep in you, and he found his release.

Once he had emptied, he nearly collapsed into you, his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard, his cock still buried inside you. His weight on top of you was a welcome one. You ran your fingers through his curls once again, lightly this time, as you both came down.

After a few moments, Frankie lifted up and pulled out of you. He took off the condom and secured it before discarding it in the small trash can on the other side of his bedside table. Then, he rolled over to lay beside you, totally spent, pulling you to lay with him. Your head came to rest where it had laid earlier in the night on his chest, just above his heart. You chuckled a little, listening to the familiar, hammering thrum of the beat as Frankie came down.

You began to leave small, light kisses on his chest. Then, Frankie’s forefinger hooked under your chin, guiding you up to meet his lips as he whispered, “C’mere, hermosa.”

Your lips moved languidly against one another, completely savoring the moment. Your hand came to his chin, feeling the prickle of the sparse beard under your touch.

“You weren’t kidding,” you told Frankie after you broke. He gave you a questioning look, adoration in his soft brown eyes. “That was just a warmup.”

He laughed, his head falling back before he looked down at you again. “You’re amazing,” he countered. “I don’t know how I’m gonna go another day without fucking you now that I know what you feel like… and what you fucking sound like.”

“Yeah? I may have a short-term solution to that problem.”

“I’m listening…”

You gave him a small smile. “We could leave my car in Benny’s driveway the whole weekend and not leave your house.”

A grin spread across his face. “Baby, you’re gonna be lucky if I let you leave this bed this weekend.”

“No problem. I don’t know if I’ll be able to physically walk after that.”

“That’s the idea.”

You laughed, collapsing back onto his chest, both of you spent and blissed out.

You both still had things to discuss, but you knew that you would figure it out soon enough. For now, all that mattered was that you both wanted each other, that he was here, his arms wrapped around you as he kissed the top of your head.

After a few minutes, you drifted off, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier fanfiction #will miller #william miller #william ironhead miller #benny miller #benjamin miller #santi garcia #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #my writing

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lostfan23 · 20 days

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Unrequited

Pairing-Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, Frankie has a lot of apologies to hand out, lots of food references, fun game of poker and a revelation, more apologies and a proposition.

WC-5.9k

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday, our boy is still going through it a bit but that’s to be expected when you ghost your friends for three years. At least he has Benny for some comedic relief.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II Pining

verb

gerund or present participle: pining

suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart.

You stretch your sore muscles as best you can with the human weight that is Santiago pressed against you, his arm holding you close even in sleep. You knew he was getting better and that he was starting to get over it but Frankie’s sudden appearance is causing a relapse in his behavior.

The mornings you got out of bed before him or took too long to tell him you were running late from work would be met with his frantic state of mind. Always afraid of being abandoned again, left without a word or goodbye. You assured him as much as you could that you would never do something like that. Months of convincing him to go to counseling was met with short words and utterings of I don’t have a problem. It wasn’t until he’d awoken to you crying and scared one night that he was yelling in his sleep that you were going to leave him that he finally caved and went.

Therapy helped tremendously but you can’t blame him after the harsh words that were spoken last night that he thinks you couldn’t hear. Venomous words spoken between ex lovers, hurt people hurt people.

So you lay here a little longer, waiting for him to stir awake so he doesn’t think you left him. You rub your legs together easing the sore ache from the previous night, trying to ignore your full bladder.

You can feel his lips on the back of your neck, slowly making their way down leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Good morning baby, how’d you sleep?” He doesn’t answer with words, just hums as he grinds his hips into you. Avoiding the question that you already know the answer to. His hand slides over your stomach, dipping lower before you gently grab his wrist pulling it to your lips as you turn to face him. “As much as I would love to do that again, I really need to pee.”

“Why didn’t you get up?” His sleepy voice cracks a little as he dips his head to kiss your neck. Your nails scratch at his scalp as you card through his salt and pepper curls. You tug on them eliciting a groan from him as he meets your eyes. You trace your thumb along the stubble of his jaw, memorizing every line and scar that you may have missed the last time you looked at him. He’s so distractingly handsome that you almost forgot he asked you a question. One that he already knows the answer to.

“I wanted to wait until you were awake.” You give him a wary smile almost ashamed to admit it, not wanting him to feel bad.

His face drops and he wraps his arms around you, rolling you on top of him until you’re almost falling out of the bed, forced to plant your feet on the cold hardwood floor. He whistles low as you pad to the bathroom, trying not to feel flustered knowing he’s checking you out. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, he always makes you feel giddy.

When you exit the bathroom he’s propped up on one elbow holding the blanket up so you can join him in the warm confines of your bed. He shudders as your cold hands roam up his toned chest and wrap around his neck.

“You can’t be getting a uti because you’re afraid to wake me up cariño.” He half mumbles into your hair.

You sigh deeply. “I know…I just didn’t want you to wake up and not find me there.”

He kisses your forehead lingering briefly before speaking. “I know you’re worried about me with Frankie being here but I promise I’m okay.” He even thinks he sounds unsure of himself as he says it.

“I know you’re not okay and that’s fine, you just have to remember you’re not doing this alone.”

You’re an enigma, he thinks. How you manage to find the good in all situations. You’re the glass half full to his half empty. He was surviving before he met you and that was fine but he can’t go back to just surviving now that he knows what it’s like to be thriving.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He slides his hands up your back massaging and kneading the stress out of you.

“Mmmm…you’ve had your fair share of things you did to deserve being taken care of.” His stomach grumbles and you both chuckle. “Speaking of that…do you want me to make breakfast?”

“If I ever say no to your food I want you to shoot me.”

****

Frankie didn’t want to get out of bed, the exhaustion had fully settled in and he quickly realized how long it’s been since he actually rested. Constantly trying to stay busy to keep from actually feeling something. The conversation with Santiago had gone in the complete opposite direction he had hoped but he only had himself to blame. He didn’t expect to just waltz back into his life like nothing had happened but you being here was an unexpected surprise and most certainly changed his approach.

He’d never slept in the guest room so it went unnoticed at how beautiful the morning sun looked peaking through the curtains. The orange Santiago had insisted on painting one accent wall compliments it perfectly. It wasn’t until they bought this house that Frankie realized how much Santi cared about interior design. He wanted to tease him about it but opted not to when he saw how relaxed he was deciding on paint colors and furniture.

It’s an odd feeling washing over him as the smell of butter and cinnamon infiltrates his senses. It’s been too long since he’s awoken to the smell of anything other than stale cigarettes and last night's leftovers. He’s kicking the blankets off before he can register and rummaging through his bag for a pair of sweats. He can hear some soft singing coming from the kitchen as he makes his way down the hall. The smell is getting stronger as his stomach rumbles and Santiago comes into view, leaning back in the chair at the kitchen island as he not so subtly watches you retrieve the mystery item from the oven.

The man was always a perv when it came to checking him out and it seems nothing has changed. He can’t really blame him as he takes in your appearance. Another one of Santiago’s shirts adorning your frame and some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen just barely covering your ass.

“Nice of you to join us.” Santi’s arms are crossed with a slight smirk at catching Frankie ogling you.

“Morning Francisco!” You’re beaming as you wipe your hands on a spare towel and begin to plate what he now sees to be biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry, I made cheddar honey biscuits, bacon and I’m about to start the eggs.” As if you couldn’t get any more perfect.

Santi gestures to the seat next to him and Frankie pulls out the chair, starting to feel a little less like a guest in his own home.

“How do you take your eggs?”

“Over medium” “Over medium”

If the tandem answer bothers you, you don’t show it as you expertly crack an egg into a bowl on the side of the stove and one into the pan. Santi adjusts next to him, seemingly a little flustered attempting to ignore his slip up.

“You don’t have to make-“

“Don’t be a martyr over eggs.” Santi cuts him off before he can finish and you turn, giving him a stern look before whisking the mixture in the bowl.

“At least he doesn’t eat them scrambled like a child.” You mutter under your breath and Frankie tries to hide his smile behind his hands as Santi flips him off.

“I heard that chiquita.” He teases and you shrug as you plate up the rest of Frankie’s food. Retrieving the bacon from the warm oven and setting two hefty biscuits next to it.

Frankie stares at the plate, much like he did last night and he doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s a lie actually, he knows as he dives into the biscuit without another word. The buttery flaky crust with a hint of something sweet hits his senses and he can’t help the moan that escapes him.

He can see your shoulders moving as you laugh and he doesn’t even care with how good this is. Your food is a religious experience that only a chosen few should get to enjoy. As he glances over at Santi eating in silence a tinge of jealousy sparks in him that he gets to indulge in this all the time. You,this food,this life. For now Frankie has to live with the choices he made.

“Don’t be shy Frankie there’s plenty more.” You politely cover your mouth while you eat your breakfast and somehow finish cleaning the mess in a matter of minutes.

Frankie leans back in his chair rubbing his belly unashamed. Santi glances over noticing the way he looks so content and a slight gleam in his eye. “So does this guy do anything around here?”

Santi stands from his chair gathering both of their plates. “I provide other services.” He kisses you on the cheek as you playfully swat at him. “I also wash the dishes.”

“You own a dishwasher.”

“Frankie I don’t make the rules, I just do what the lady asks.” Of course Santiago doesn’t notice that this is the first time he’s used his name, not his government name or his call sign or the dreaded name he gets when people are mad at him but his chosen name. Frankie watches you both as you exchange subtle glances, some unspoken language between the two of you that he used to understand but it’s been too long.

Without words Santi is grabbing things from the fridge and setting them out on the counter for you as you retrieve some bowls from the cabinet. You’re filling a large pot with water as Santi returns to his seat at the island having fulfilled his duties of making piles of unfinished ingredients on the table.

“How much time do I have?”

“We don’t have to be at Wills until one so don’t rush cariño.” Santi says as Frankie gives him a quizzical look. “Barbecue…you’re going.”

Frankie tries to school the expression on his face into a neutral one as his stomach drops. He knew he needed to talk to all of them eventually, but he didn’t anticipate it being his second day back. He knows he can’t avoid the conversation forever and the sooner he rips the band aid the better. There’s too much weighing on his shoulders that he needs to get off so they can all live better lives. At least Frankie hopes after he talks to them that they are appreciative and see all he’s done to get back in their good graces.

“If I don’t make this pasta salad Benny will kill me.” He realizes after a moment that you’re speaking to him and he can’t wipe this dumb look off his face.

“Well if it’s anything like I’ve had already I can see why he’s obsessed.” You smile up at him as you chop some bell peppers with perfect precision. He’s not sure how you’ve not cut yourself as he looks from your eyes to the cutting board, but it’s almost reminiscent of how he feels when he’s flying; effortless.

Frankie finally breaks your gaze as you turn around to pour the pasta in the boiling water. Santi’s eyes bore into him as he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. Santiago was never good at subtlety, especially when it came to his outward appearance. If he had to title this one it would read if you keep flirting with her I’ll smother you with a pillow.

****

The three of you are in Santi’s Jeep on the way to Will's house. You insisted after going back and forth with Frankie to the point of awkwardness that he sit in front. You hilariously and completely ended the argument when you sat in the back and shrugged your shoulders knowing Santi would riot if he was made out to be some chauffeur with you both in the back.

The car smells divine…you managed to make two types of salad, some cupcakes and those cookies he can’t stop thinking about. Frankie’s recently caught wondering how Santi is still in such good shape with the way you cook. He watches the way his muscles strain against the black tee shirt as he shifts gears. The way his jeans fit his thighs just right as he-

“Something on your mind Fish?” He’s been caught this time and it certainly won’t be the last time.

Frankie’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. “Nothing…Just wondering how you still have a waistline when you live with Julia Child.”

You laugh and bite down on your lip to stop it from bubbling over in full blown hysterics. Frankie looks away but you don’t miss the way he smiles as his tongue pokes out from between his teeth.

Frankie stares out the window, something blooming in his stomach at the way he made you laugh again. It’s infectious and at this point he doesn’t even care…he knows full well that if he looks to his left he’ll see the second chapter of Santi’s death glare titled keep it up and I’ll crash this car.

****

It’s not a far drive to Will's house, but there was no way they were walking in the Florida heat with all this food in tow. Frankie swallows hard as Santi makes the last turn down their street. He has seen this house many times, it still sits beautifully at the end of the block nestled among two live oak trees in the front yard. The most unique house on the block and the largest backyard. He helped Benny and Will look for it so they could all be close to each other. The plan fell into place just before they left for Colombia. They closed on the house one month before leaving and for that Frankie is relieved to see all was not lost in that jungle.

He rubs his clammy hands along his jeans as Santi parks the car in the long driveway. He waits for a moment as you both exit the car to gather the supplies. He wants to get in the driver's seat and head home or maybe just get out and walk straight to the airport. Anything to avoid the possible rejection he faces when he walks into Wills backyard to see his best friends brothers again.

The passenger side door is opened for him and you’re standing there expectantly with your hand out. “He said you might need some help.”

It feels childish and yet he needs it all the same as he takes your hand in his and steps out of the Jeep. It’s so small in his as you lace your fingers and pull him to the front door instead of the side gate to spare him a brief moment to gather his thoughts. He lets you lead as he tries not to step on your feet that need a few more strides than him as you approach the large wooden door.

The house is pristine and cozy on the inside as you enter. Santiago’s in the open concept kitchen putting away all the goods you made as Frankie looks around for anyone else. You squeeze his hand once before letting go to join him in the kitchen.

“Ben already took the pasta salad so that’s as good as gone.” Santiago says as he cracks open a beer and hands it to Frankie. Anything to take the edge off.

“I’m gonna go find Emma babe.” You kiss Santi on the cheek as you exit the kitchen leaving the two men alone.

Frankie’s eyes go wide as you shriek from the patio and Santi laughs. “Put me down Ben!”

Bennys voice is carried away with the sound of the music over the outside speakers. “Not a chance sweetheart.”

Santi nods to Frankie as he takes a huge swig of his beer. “Let’s head outside before she kills him.”

****

“Nice to finally meet you Frankie.” Will’s wife Emma is just as he pictured. Tall brunette with perfect hair and an even more perfect smile. She’s been kind enough to show him around the house and the yard as a means of distraction from the not so warm welcome he got from Will.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He sounds like a kid that just got scolded for stealing as he removes his hat and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Emma’s showing him the room Benny is in. He spent what little money he had to open his own gym so they’re graciously letting him stay to save some money. Frankie feels particularly guilty about that right now but soon that will change.

“The office will hopefully be a nursery soon.” She turns to him offering a genuine smile. “Then we’ll have a live-in babysitter.”

“I’m hoping you don’t mean Benny.” Frankie chides as she throws her head back and laughs.

“He’s not all that bad and he could do with some practice.” Emma motions with her hands as she finishes the tour and Frankie feels like he’s having some sort of out of body experience. Walking through the home that he helped pick out so that Will could start a family. Everyone was doing exactly what they set out to do and Frankie was just…idling.

“Frankie?” She’s staring at him now, nearly eye to eye with him as she places her hand gently on his elbow so as not to startle him. He supposed she’s used to dealing with spooked vets by now. It’s almost like approaching a caged animal. “He’ll come around…I know he loves you, he just needs some time.”

Frankie’s too embarrassed to ask if she means Santi or Will so he just nods and says ‘thank you’.

****

Frankie’s on his second helping of pasta salad as he sits at a table with the guys and some of Benny's friends from the gym listening to Santi drone on about his security consulting business. Of course Santiago found a way to travel around telling other people how to do their job.

Frankie looks up from his plate to see Will staring daggers at him. He’s a coward to look away but he’s not ready to face that scrutiny. It’s not much better as his line of vision drifts to you and Emma laying out by the pool talking and laughing. The sun is beating down on his neck as a bead of sweat trickles down his spine. You roll to your front on the lounger and untie the strings of your top. The white bikini already left little to the imagination and now he can just barely see the soft curve of your breast as you adjust to get comfortable.

“They’re perfect aren’t they. ” Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Ben’s voice in his ear.

“What?!”

“Emma and Will…I saw her giving you a tour earlier.” Ben winks at him as he steals a bite from Frankie’s plate. Frankie starts to speak but Ben cuts him off and leans in closer. “I know everyone has already given you enough shit so I’m not going to. I just hope you’re here to stay.”

“I am.” Frankie says it a little louder than he intended and he can feel Will and Santi’s eyes on him. The mindless chatter amongst the table has continued but the four of them are waiting on a limb as Frankie realizes this is the first time he’s actually said it. “I’m making plans to stay.”

Santi raises his eyebrows in surprise as Will finally speaks. “You gonna find a flying gig?”

Frankie doesn’t really need to work but he supposes he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t find something to occupy his mind. “I don’t know yet but I’ve got some money saved until I figure it out.” He takes a sip of his beer to disguise the little white lie.

Ben slaps him on the back and he splutters his beer. “You can come help me at the gym.” Ben’s shadow boxing him as he tries to clear his throat. “Let’s see if this old man can still spar with the great Benjamin Miller.” His friends at the table roll their eyes along with the rest at his large ego.

Frankie points the butt of his empty bottle at the younger man. “Ben, I can still kick your ass.”

“Is that so?”

Frankie nods slowly.

“I don’t think he can climb a flight of fucking stairs.” Will's voice cuts in and the table goes silent. There’s a slight smirk on his face as Benny erupts in laughter next to him. Santi drops his head to the table as the rest of the men join in and for a fleeting moment it all feels like it used to.

****

The parties died down a bit and it’s just the guys left while you and Emma say your goodbyes. The boys are staying for poker and that will give Frankie the perfect opportunity to talk to them. He’s not sure how much longer he could hold it in.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” You approach Santi and the guys around the kitchen island.

“They’ll both survive.” Will answers for him as he finishes the dishes in the sink.

“Cariño please don’t wait up for me this time.” Santi says through gritted teeth as he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the cheek. Ben steps up behind him making mock kissing gestures and Will grabs him by the collar dragging him off to the garage.

Frankie awkwardly starts to walk away and leave you two alone when you call out to him.

“Francisco Morales…make sure he doesn’t gamble all his money away.” It’s said in jest as you gather your things to leave.

“I’ll do my best, hermosa but I make no promises.”

Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the slip up as you wave them goodbye and exit the front door. Heat creeps up his neck and he doesn’t even want to look Santi in the eyes.

“Hermosa hmmm?” Santi nods his head toward the garage door and steps beside him. “I see you still get flustered when beautiful people use your full name.”

Frankie follows closely behind as he breathes out through his nose.

This was going to be a very long night.

****

They’ve got him all wrong.

What started out as a fun game of poker quickly became a tense game of figuring out what Frankie’s play was. They’ve wrongly mistaken his nervous face for a poker face and everyone keeps folding.

Just spit it out

Frankie’s sitting here in Will's converted three car garage. Half of it was a shop to work on his motorcycle and whatever project his mind needed to keep him occupied. The other half is almost an exact replica of their favorite bar, all the way down to the teak wood flooring and an old school saloon type dresser with a roll top bar in front. He’s been trying to admire all the work he’s put in. The pool table and matching poker table just add to the charm.

You’re stalling

“Fish, what’s your move?” Santiago’s voice is dripping with annoyance as Will stares down his cards like they’re going to change suits right in front of him.

He stares down at his hand and the pile of chips in front of him. He actually has a good hand this time, three of a kind and pocket aces.

It’s not about the money

“All in.” He pushes his chips in the middle while Santi and Will quickly follow suit. Benny scoffs from behind the bar as he pours himself another beer having lost all his chips ages ago.

“You losers are gonna fall for it again?”

“Who are you calling a loser?” Will chides the younger man as Santi laughs behind his cards.

“I can read this pendejo like a book…he doesn’t have shit.” Santi says the last part playfully but the first part used to ring true.

Frankie lays down his cards and Will curses under his breath and throws his face down. Bennys laughing to himself over in the corner but Santiago’s grin is deepening by the second. It takes more muscles to frown, which is why he thinks Santi has such strong features. When he smiles though…it almost knocks him off his feet.

A trickle of sweat runs down Frankie’s back as Will raises an eyebrow at Santi. He leans back in his chair crossing his arms. “Let’s see ‘em Pope.”

Money,Money,Money

Ten,Jack,Queen,King,Ace. Each flick of his wrist and the sound of the cards on the table as Santiago draws out his torture echo in the room. He leans in dramatically, dragging all the chips to sit in front of him. The sound of Benny whooping behind him and Will’s slow clap is drowned out by the ringing in his ears as he stares at the Royal Flush in the suit of hearts. Okay karma,you made your point.

“I went back for the money.”

He knew there was no right way to drop this kind of bomb on them. Judging by the silence in the room, perhaps there was a wrong way.

It’s so quiet you can hear the rustling of the chips settled in front of Santi falling by the wayside.

Will locks eyes with Frankie as he leans back in his chair. The weight of what he just said hits him like a ton of bricks.

“So we’re rich.” Ben’s voice cuts through the silence as he pours himself another drink.

“Ben, are you kidding me!” Will goes to stand as Santi lays a gentle hand on him urging him backwards.

As crass as it may sound coming out of the younger man’s mouth he couldn’t hide from it anymore. “Ya Ben, we’re rich.”

“Why?” Santi sounds calmer than he would’ve imagined after being silent for so long. He expected a fight from him, yelling and cursing. Frankie’s brain is doing somersaults trying to keep up with his emotions. Did he want Santi to yell? To tell him he was wrong for putting his life in danger.

Maybe there’s some weird fucked of part of Frankie that wants to be treated like a martyr so he can justify all the shit he’s put them through these last few years. Or maybe it’s just hard for him to realize that Santi was capable of changing for the right person.

“I did it for you…for us.” Frankie corrects although he’s not sure why. He could be nothing but honest in front of the men he risked his life for.

Santi huffs a laugh as he shifts in his seat to look at Frankie. He picks up a stray chip rolling it on top of his fingers, some nervous tick he picked up during their army days. “You sure you didn’t do it for you.” There he is.

“What the fucks that suppposed to mean.” Frankie bites out ready for a fight. The fight he’s wanted since he landed here, back home.

“You’re gonna tell me that you didn’t go on some suicide mission without telling us…” He takes a moment to calm his breathing and lower his voice. “You did this so you could come back with something. To show us that you didn’t just leave everything for no reason. That you didn’t walk away from the best thing in your life because you got scared.” He tosses the chip and it lands in front of Frankie as Ben whistles low under his breath.

Santiago always had a way with words. He could rally the team when they were feeling down or nervous about a mission. He could convince higher ups to do things for him and make it seem like it was their idea to begin with. He could charm the pants off anyone he laid his sights to for one night or wax poetic to the love of his life.

He could also make his words cut like a knife. Those same words could make any bullet Frankie’s ever taken feel like a bee sting in comparison. If Frankie wanted him to see that he’s changed he was going to half to meet him more than half way. He’s wounded and hurt, absolutely incapable of seeing anything besides what he’s been through the last three years.

“You’re right.” Foreign words leave his lips not often spoken to the man with the ego the size of Texas. Frankie scrubs his jaw, kneading his fingers in that spot of patchy beard. “You’re right Santiago, I didn’t want to come back empty handed with nothing to show for myself. I felt like a failure after Colombia.”

“We all did.” Will cuts in as he slaps his hand down on the table. Loose chips falling to the floor.

Frankie lets out a long sigh. “I know man…I don’t mean.” Frankie underestimated how much damage he had done. Not just to Santi but to everyone. “I’m sorry. This was the only way I knew how to apologize, even if it comes off wrong I don’t regret one second of it. We all deserve this money and you know that.” He points at Will before continuing. “You can be mad at me all you want, I'm not running this time. I’m gonna stay and fix this even if it takes me the rest of my life.”

Santi stands abruptly, saluting Ben and squeezing Will's shoulder as he exits the garage.

Will slides the small notepad for scratch paper towards him, scribbling down some numbers. He clicks the pen and tosses the notepad to Frankie as he stands from the poker table. “I suppose this is my fault.”

Frankie tilts his head in question.

“I gave those coordinates to Pope.” He clicks his tongue as he rests his hands on the table next to him, eyes drawing up in mischief. “But he told me he lost them.”

Frankie stares down at a long list of numbers. “What’s this?”

“My banking info.” Will looks at him then a little more tired behind the eyes than he’s ever seen. “I love you Fish, he loves you too.” Will slaps him on the back and exits the garage leaving Frankie with the younger Miller.

Frankie doesn’t turn around but he can picture Ben behind him. “Goodnight Ben, my favorite and only brother in the world. I love you soooo much.” He’s definitely miming with his hands. “Goodnight Will, even though you’re a pain in my ass I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Frankie laughs a little bit. It's short lived as a cold piece of ice hits the back of his neck running down his shirt right into the open crack of his jeans.

“What the fuck Ben!” Frankie turns in his seat to see him crunching on some ice. He narrowly misses another piece thrown at his head.

“I want my money by tomorrow.” He does his worst impression of a mobster as he leaves Frankie alone in the garage.

****

Santi sits on the curb in front of Will’s house as he hangs his head in his hands. Thankfully for him it’s a decently cool night compared to the awful humidity he’s usually subjected too. He often wonders why they all settled here instead of somewhere off the grid. It’s comforting in a sense, it feels like home.

It’s tearing him up inside holding onto all this anger for Frankie when he really just wants to tell him he loves him. He thought he would feel better after getting it all out, finally laying down his cards so to speak. It brewed somewhere underneath for all those years and as cathartic as it was to say it out loud it didn’t change what happened.

Now he’s left seemingly with everything he could possibly want and he feels numb.

Santi hears the front door close softly behind him as Frankie makes his way down the path. He doesn’t want to argue anymore, he just wants to let this all go and finally live a peaceful life with enough money to make sure he’ll never have to sweat again.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” He looks up to Frankie holding out his hand to help him off the curb. “Please forgive me.” His soft brown eyes look down at him. The ones he could never resist even if he tried.

He accepts his hand as he hoists him off the ground dusting off his jeans. “I forgave you a long time ago Fish.I had to for my own sanctity.”

If it’s a misstep he doesn’t correct himself. Sanity or sanctity aside, he knows hating someone for that long will eat you alive. “I would not be capable of loving her the way that I do, if I had not forgiven you.”

“Do you still love me?” Frankie asks, as selfish as it may be. Not entirely sure of what answer he’s expecting.

He’s backlit by the street lamps creating a soft halo around his brown and graying curls. Santiago has pictured them doing this walk so many times in his dreams. Moving here to start a life with him, walking home after a long day of hanging out with their brothers to head home and curl up in the soft sheets of the master bedroom.

“I never stopped loving you.” Frankie takes his hand then and he doesn’t pull away. “I never could even if I tried.”

Santi’s trying not to get choked up as he stares at their hands. Frankie grips his chin tilting it up towards him but he abruptly pulls away.

“I thought you said-“

“I know what I said. I love you.” He gestures between them. “But this…can’t happen without her.”

Frankie’s nostrils flare as he gives him an aporetic look.

“Don’t give me that shit Frankie, I see the way you look at her.”

“Looking isn’t illegal.” His possessiveness over someone that doesn’t belong to him comes out harsher than he intended.

“No you’re right it’s not, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Santi spits back at him as he glances over at the house that’s no longer Will’s. “Let’s keep moving.”

Santi gets two steps ahead before Frankie yanks his arm back bringing him face to face. Daring him to call his bluff.

“Isn’t that what you’re telling me…that I can have my cake and eat it too.” His body’s pressed against his, they’re so close he can breathe his air as he practically spits fire.

“Yes Francisco, that’s what I’m telling you.” He gently prys Frankie’s hand from his arm putting some space between them. “But I’m not doing it behind her back.”

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smokefalls · 2 years

Quote

In order to breathe, you have to add the little snail of an e to the end of the word breath. Breathe. Is it not amazing that we are still alive?

Benjamin Garcia, “The Great Glass Closet�� from Thrown in the Throat

#Benjamin Garcia #Thrown in the Throat #quote #poetry #queerlit #2022 reads #Sealey Challenge

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bradshawsweetheart · 11 months

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Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.

Happy anniversary to our favorite slutty waisted aviators🥰

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

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Benny Miller + Santiago Garcia Triple Frontier (2019)

#dameronscopilotgifs #triple frontier #benny miller #ben miller #benjamin miller #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #garrett hedlund #oscar isaac

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avastrasposts · 8 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 30

We left Frankie in a pretty bad state at the end of the last chapter and now we need to get through that as his girl and the guys begin to really worry about where his actions are leading him. And Joel steps in of course, but perhaps not in the best way.

I just want to add too, that this chapter included a conversation that has been a long time coming but it was very hard to write since neither man wants to talk about it and I can just hope I did them both justice.

I just want to add too, since some people are nervous about it; I LOVE hearing your thoughts and comments on what I write, even if the chapter is months and months old! It's my favourite thing about posting here and on Ao3, hearing your thoughts as you read through the fic, so please, share with me!

Series Master List

Chapter 31 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 7.7k

You wake with a start, your body jerking you awake with panicked breaths. The bedroom is light, the window faces south and a weak sun is glinting through the closed curtain which means you slept far longer than usual, the sun rises late in the Massachusetts winter months. You rush to push back the comforter and hurry out into the living room. The blanket is pushed back on the couch and Frankie is not there, and not in the kitchen either. As you turn to the bathroom you see what’s missing, his boots, his jacket and backpack.

“Fuck!” you groan loudly and run back to the bedroom, grabbing your clothes from last night and rushing to put them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You feel an urgent need to get to Frankie, to talk to him. It’s not like him to leave, certainly not in the middle of an argument, and never, ever, has he left in the morning without saying anything to you. Something is not right, it feels like the two of you have crossed a line that you need to get you both back behind.

You tie your boots and shrug your winter coat on, your first stop is Pope’s place. You hammer on his door and he throws it open, his face falling when he sees your expression.

“Frankie came home drunk last night and now he’s left again, I don’t know where he is!” you blurt out as Pope lets you into his apartment.

“Slow down, hermana,” he says, grabbing hold of your shoulders, steadying you, “From the beginning.”

“Frankie and I got into an argument about what he did when he was on that run with Will, he couldn’t understand why I thought he was too violent,” you say, trying to calm yourself, but your hands are shaking and Pope grabs them, holding them together between his own. “Then Joel came by, right in the middle of it, something about planning a new run, and Frankie just left with him, saying he needed to think. And then he came back late last night , really drunk and passed out on the couch, and now he’s gone! He never leaves without saying goodbye and I don’t know where he is!” Your voice breaks on the last word and Pope lets go of your hands, bending down to grab his boots.

“We’ll go find him, we’ll go to Benny’s first, Tommy said something yesterday about meeting there.” He looks up at you while he laces his boots, “Don’t worry, hermana, it’s early still, he can’t have gone that far.”

…

“Tell me again what this FEDRA guy told you about the raiders?” Benny asks Joel as they duck under a broken piece of the highway and head into an old sewage tunnel.

“A small FEDRA patrol saw a bunch of them down in Dorchester, if we take them out, we get to keep the supplies,” Joel replies, stepping around a dead rat.

“And you trust this guy?”

“Yeah, he owes me a favor, I saved his ass a couple of times. And he’s given me tips before, they’ve always been solid, nothing this big though.”

“Alright, as long as you think it’s a legit tip,” Benny nods and falls back a bit, Frankie’s right behind him, Tommy taking up the rear.

“You ok, Fish? You look a bit pale,” Benny says, his voice lower for the benefit of his friend.

“Yeah, just slept like shit, and we had a fucking early wake up call,” Frankie grumbles, pulling the bill of his cap down lower over his eyes.

“Tell me about it,” Benny sighs, “Eve just woke up to say goodbye, then she went right back to sleep. Wish I could’ve stayed in bed with her.”

“Mmhm, same,” Frankie mutters, pausing as they come to the end of the tunnel.

“Ok, on your toes now, we've got to go out in the open here,” Joel says, waving the other three men forwards.

…

The trek down to Dorchester is smooth, and it doesn’t take long for them to find the raiders' small camp. They’ve set up on the top floor of an office building and Benny and Frankie silently take out the two guards at the bottom of the stairs. It gets messy when they reach the top and they have to open fire but Joel tosses in a homemade smoke bomb and after that they can just pick off the raiders as they come stumbling out.

They pick through the raider’s supplies and fill their packs, it’s a pretty good haul and Benny starts searching for any food they might’ve hidden, coming across a door that’s been blocked off with a filing cabinet.

“Hey, Catfish! Give me a hand with this!” he calls to Frankie, “Cover me in case they’ve locked a fucking infected in here or something.”

Frankie stands a few feet from the door with his rifle raised as Benny puts his shoulder to the filing cabinet and pushes it out of the way. The door swings open and Benny jumps out of the way.

“Oh fuck, shit! Man, that’s foul!”

The dead boy of a young woman falls out across the doorway, her body must’ve been propped against the door, and judging by the stench, she’s been dead a while. The body of another young woman is curled up on a dirty mattress, she’s less far gone, her emaciated features still clear. Both women are naked and Benny swallows hard and glances back at Frankie as they both realize why the women were locked up.

“We should’ve killed those fucking raiders slower,” Frankie growls, turning away from the room and Benny follows him.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and back to the QZ”.

Back down at street level again Joel takes the lead and moves down the way they came, covering a couple of blocks before Benny suddenly signals for everyone to halt.

“Heads up, I hear a car,” he calls in a low voice to the others.

“More raiders,” Joel says, “C’mon, we’ll ambush them, this is the only cleared street.” He looks around the block they’re on and points to cars that have been pushed aside on either side of the street. “Frankie, Benny, hide behind either car, cover me. Tommy, get behind me. I’ll make them stop, usual way should work, if not, just shoot ‘em.”

“Joel, you sure?” Benny interrupts, “How do we know they’re raiders? We should hang back and observe, see if they go for the base we cleared.”

“No, then we just have to clear them out again and this time they’ll be on their guard,” Joel scowls, “Get in position!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Benny shakes his head, looking over at Frankie who’s already moved into cover, “Fish? You ok with this?”

“Joel’s right, it’s probably the same group of raiders, we need to take them out.”

“Get in position, Benjamin, or stay the fuck out of our way, they’re almost here,” Joel points to the other car, staring at Benny. The younger man takes a deep breath, glancing over at Frankie again who motions with his head to get behind the car.

“Fuck!” Benny growls and grips his rifle, ducking behind cover with an angry scowl.

Joel quickly gets into position as the rumbling engine comes closer, keeping an eye out for the car. As it gets closer Benny sees it, it’s a small beat up sedan with several bullet holes in the sides. He glances over at Frankie and gives him a hand signal, indicating three people inside. Frankie nods and passes on the message to Tommy just as the car drives down the block they’re on. Ahead of him, Benny suddenly hears Joel give up a loud shout, stumbling out of the alley into the path of the car, his hand clutching his side, the other raised to the driver.

The others watch, guns ready and hidden out of sight, as the car barrells towards Joel, who’s staggering across the road. Suddenly the driver slams the brakes and the car skids to a halt in front of Joel. From his hiding place Benny sees the driver open the door and step up on the instep, aiming a gun at Joel.

“Hey, I-I need help, p-please,” Joel stutters, holding up the hand that’s not holding his side, where he’s conveniently hidden his handgun.

“What’s wrong with you?” the driver calls as Joel stumbles closer, the man is still half hidden behind the door and Joel’s trying to get around to his side so he half falls to the side, taking several stuttering steps sideways.

“You infected?” the driver says, following Joel with his gun, “Can’t help you then I’m afraid.”

“R-raiders,” Joel coughs, “ran into a whole bunch.”

Benny looks over at Frankie, he’s got a clear shot at the driver and he’s aiming at him. Benny signals at him to hold his fire, these guys don’t sound like raiders, but Frankie’s shaking his head, squeezing his rifle as the man continues to keep his gun on Joel.

“Be careful, Dan!” a man in the car suddenly calls and Joel straightens up, pulling his gun, aiming at the man. A shot rings out and the driver slumps forward, a clean shot though his head.

“God dammit, Frankie!” Benny yells, lifting his own rifle as the man in the car dives for the fallen man’s gun. Joel fires on him but misses and the man takes off running. On his right Ben hears Tommy open fire on the third person in the car as Joel yells.

“Shoot his leg, Frankie, take him down alive!” The man is running as fast as he can down the block but two shots ring out and he yells, tumbling to the ground as blood bursts from his thigh.

“Secure him, Benny,” Frankie yells and advances on the car, rifle raised. Benny keeps his gun on the fallen man and moves up to him, he’s splayed on his back, gripping his thigh, whimpering.

“Oh fuck, please, please don’t kill me!” he says, trying to crawl backwards away from Benny.

“Just stay still, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you give me a reason,” Benny says, keeping his distance as he glances back at the car. Frankie’s jogging towards him and behind him, Joel steps into the car and a woman screams.

“No, no, don’t hurt her! She’s my sister!” the man on the ground shouts and Benny turns his head back to him as Frankie joins him.

“What’s going on, Fish?” he says in a voice low enough for the man not to hear.

“The third passenger is a woman, Joel’s questioning her about who they are and where they’re going.”

“Fish! These guys are obviously not raiders, what the fuck are we doing?” Benny glances back at the car as another high pitched scream comes from the woman and the man on the ground shouts.

“Get off her you fucking prick! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Frankie raises his rifle and aims at the man, “Easy there, he’s just questioning her.”

“What the fuck, Frankie, this is not how we treat civilians!”

“What fucking civilians? We can’t trust anyone, Benny, you saw what the raiders did to those two women!” Frankie growls.

“Yeah, but these guys are barely armed!” Benny nudges the dropped gun on the ground with his boot, badly maintained and rusty.

“And how the fuck were we supposed to know that?” Frankie asks, his rifle still trained on the bleeding man who’s whimpering, clutching his leg and looking towards the car.

“Maybe we don’t attack just anyone who drives past!” Benny hisses at Frankie, his eyebrows drawn tight with anger and frustration. “This is so fucked up, Fish!”

“Is he still alive?” Joel barks as he walks over, leaving Tommy to watch over the woman in the car.

“Yeah, but he’s bleeding, we need to get a tourniquet on that leg soon,” Benny replies, “Joel, what the fuck are we doing here? These guys are not raiders.”

Joel doesn’t reply, instead he walks up to the man on the ground and kneels down, Frankie’s gun is still trained on him, but Benny has let his drop, pointing it at the ground instead.

“You sister is it?” he asks of the man, putting his hand over the gunshot wound on the thigh.

The man nods, looking petrified under Joel’s hard stare.He yelps loudly when Joel’s hand squeezes the injured area, digging his fingers in.

“Your sister told me where you came from, and where you’re going. You’d better tell me the same thing she did, or I’m telling my guy over there to shoot her knee off, you understand?” Joel’s voice is hard and low, slowly squeezing the man’s leg tighter.

“Worcester!” the younger man blurts out, “We came from Worcester, and we’re heading for the Boston QZ but we got attacked and got lost. Please don’t hurt her, she’s my only family!”

“Have you got any supplies apart from what’s in the car?”

“No, no, I s-swear, we’ve got n-nothing!” the man stutters, groaning under the pain of Joel’s hand digging into his injured leg, “Please, we’ve got nothing!”

“Good boy,” Joel growls, easing off the man's leg and standing up.

He comes back to Benny and Frankie, wiping his hand on his trouser leg, “They both say the same thing. I say we leave ‘em and take the car, we can trade for it or stash outside the wall, might come in handy sometime.”

“Fuck, Joel, we need to take them with us, we can’t leave them out here,” Benny says and looks to Frankie for support but he just gives a hesitant shrug.

“I don’t know Benny, we can’t trust them,” he says.

“What fucking choice do we have? Leave them injured out here with no guns?” Benny snarls back at him.

“They’re not our responsibility!” Joel snaps, “Let’s fucking- “

All three men freeze as the first tell tale sounds echo between the buildings, the snarling shrieks of dozens of infected reaching them.

“Runners! Runners!” Tommy yells from the car, “Come on, we need to fucking go!” He rushes to the driver’s side of the car, jumping in and the woman sees her chance, bolting from the car and running for the alley.

“Leave her, just leave her!” Joel yells as he grabs Frankie and starts running towards the car, “Just start the car, Tommy!”

“Benny, no! Leave him!” Frankie shouts as he sees Benny moving towards the injured man on the ground. “Fucking leave him!”

“Please, please…just kill me” the man begs, looking back over his shoulder and Benny follows his gaze.

“Fuck!” he gasps, frozen to the spot for a second before he raises his gun and fires, the man slumping onto the asphalt. Benny spins around and starts running after Frankie, the horde of infected barrelling down the street screeching loudly.

“Benny! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Frankie yells, “Get in the car!”

Tommy’s already got the car moving as Benny catches up, grabbing hold of Frankie’s arm and getting pulled into the back seat.

“Floor it, Tommy!” Joel shouts, looking back over his shoulder, out the back window.

…

Thank fuck Tommy’s a good driver, he speeds through the streets, leaving the horde far behind. He only slows down once they enter the area around the QZ and turns off onto a narrow street that Joel directs him to.

“Here, down there, park between those two cars and we’ll throw some trash on it.”

The four men quickly make the car look unusable and head towards the QZ, splitting up as they get inside, stepping out into a quiet alley a few blocks from the wall..

“Alright, good run, except for the fucking infected,” Joel says, clapping Frankie on the back, “I’ll see you guys at the bar in a couple of days.”

Frankie nods and Benny throw the brothers a two fingered salute as they leave.

“Hey Fish, wait up, we need to talk,” Benny says as Frankie turns to leave too.

“If you’re gonna yell at me for how we handled the people in the car, fucking save it, I already got an earful from Will after our last run,” Frankie says, his shoulders hunched and eyebrows pulled tight, “I don’t need another lecture on how we’re using army tactics on civilians.”

“Frankie, man, c’mon, you’ve got to admit, that was pretty fucking bad? We should’ve just observed them, not fucking attacked,” Benny rubs his hand over his face, “I mean, why the fuck did Joel even pull that stunt with forcing them to stop? And why did you open fire? I’ve never seen you jump the gun like that, Fish.”

“The guy in the car, I thought he was about to pull a gun on Joel, so I shot first.”

“And the interrogation technique? You taught him that?”

“So what? We do what we need to do to survive.”

Benny shakes his head, “That was not about survival, I don’t know what the fuck that was!”

“Just fucking leave it, Benny! Ok?” Frankie snaps, scowling at his friend, “I’ll see you later, I need to get something done.” He shoulders his backpack and heads off in the opposite direction of the apartment.

“Fish, c’mon!” Benny calls after him, but Frankie just gives a dismissive wave of his hand without turning his head as he rounds the corner.

“Fuck…” Benny mutters and stalks off towards the radio office, he needs to see you.

…

It feels like deja vu when you find Benny outside the building where Sean lives and has the radio office.

“I’ve got to talk to you about Frankie,” he says and you feel like your heart stops, you’d been trying to find Frankie all morning, until you had to go to the radio office. Pope promised he’d keep looking, checking back at the apartment during the afternoon.

“Did something happen to him? Pope and I have been looking for him all day!” you say, grabbing hold of Benny’s arm and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“He didn’t tell you we were going on a run with Joel and Tommy today?”

“Benny, is he ok?” You feel like shaking him but you limit yourself to grabbing his arm tighter and Benny nods.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine, he’s fine, he came back with me but he said he had to do something when we got back.” Benny takes in your anxious looking face as it slips into relief and returns your grip on his arm, putting his hand over yours. “He didn’t tell you and he hasn't come to see you yet? Is something going on with you guys?”

You sigh and feel yourself deflating, your shoulders sagging with relief that Frankie’s ok, but at the same time, that lead weight settles in your stomach as you worry about his behavior again.

“Walk me home, Benny, please,” you ask, “if you have time?” You feel like Benny’s friendly presence next to you is the only thing that will make your feet move down the street as you chew on your bottom lip.

“Sure, I’ll walk you, I need to get back to Eve but...but maybe that can wait, what’s going on?”

“Tell me what happened when you were with him today,” you say, taking his arm and leaving the front entrance.

Benny looks around the two of you as you start walking down the street, checking that there is no one near that can overhear first and then he tells you the whole thing.

“Fuck…” you sigh for what feels like the twentieth time as Benny ends by telling you that Frankie took off after they got back. “His PTSD has been getting worse and both Pope and Will brought it up in the past few days. That last run with Will, things went bad and Pope’s been noticing his behavior being off too.”

You’ve reached the door to your building and you stop, looking up at Benny’s frown. “Yesterday I tried telling him that I think he shouldn’t go on runs with Joel anymore. Joel triggers something in Frankie and…I don’t know…I feel like maybe they aren’t good for each other. They’ve both suffered an unimaginable loss, in the worst possible way, and when Frankie got help, Joel seems to have had to deal with it on his own and it’s made him…just…very dark, like he’s just ‘existing’ and doing what he needs to do to survive…”

“And he has no empathy for others,” Benny fills in, “he didn’t even stop to consider that the people in the car could be just people trying to get to the QZ, and he left them with no second thought when the infected came, it was all about eliminating a potential threat and then about saving himself and Tommy.” Benny swipes his cap off his head and drags his hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m not even sure he would bother to save Frankie and myself, if we hadn’t gotten to that car in time.”

“But Frankie doesn’t see it,” you say, “and when I asked him to not go on runs with Joel anymore because I think it makes his PTSD worse, we got in a huge fight,” you sigh deeply, dropping your eyes to your toes and you feel Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “He got really mad when I said I thought he was too violent with this guy, Frankie threatened to gouge his eye out. But Frankie said he only did what was needed to get the antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid.” You swipe your hand over your cheek as tears start to drip down, “Fuck, I don’t wanna cry again,” you say, anger seeping through your voice, “Fuck!”

You tilt your head back up and look at Benny’s worried eyes, “Come on, it’s you and Frankie, you’re everything to him, one fight doesn’t ruin it,” he says, rubbing your shoulder

“He walked out, Benny, right in the middle of the fight. He’s never done that before, he just took off with Joel. And then he came home really drunk and we started arguing again and he passed out on the couch, he said he thought I didn’t want him in my bed anymore. And then this morning he left again, without saying anything. He went outside the wall and didn’t even say goodbye.” Tears spill over properly now and you sniffle, trying to stem the flow, but the nerves of the day catches up with you. Benny starts rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort you.

“Let’s get you inside, Frankie might be home already, you two need to talk it out, c’mon,” Benny gently hooks his arm around your shoulder and guides you through the door and up the stairs. You fumble out your keys and unlock your front door, opening up to a still dark apartment.

“Alright, he’s not home yet, but he’ll be here soon, I’ll wait with you until he turns up,” Benny says and starts to lift off his still heavy backpack and you stop him.

“No, please, go home to Eve. I know she’s worried about you since you went outside, get back home. I’ll be fine, and Pope’s next door if I need anything.” You put your hands on his chest and try, and fail, to nudge the big man towards the door.

“You sure? I’ll wait for him, and slap some sense into him if needed, just say the word,” Benny replies, tilting his head down to catch your eyes properly.

“I’m sure, Benny, please go home,” you give him another pointless shove and he gives with a small smile.

“Ok, if you’re sure I’ll go, but give me a hug first,” he says and bends down, capturing you between his long arms. Benny’s signature bear hugs are all encompassing and he lifts you up, shaking you gently and making you giggle through your tears.

“Just remember, it’s you and Frankie, you’re the love of his life. All he does, he does for you, if he’s lost his way, all he needs is for you to bring him back home. To you.”

“Benny, when did you become so insightful?” you smile weakly as he puts you down on your feet.

“Not insightful, I’ve just watched you two over the past, what is it? Eleven years now? And with Eve, I get it, what you two have. I’d do anything for her, and I know that’s all Frankie ever wants to do for you.”

“Get back to her, Benny, before you make me cry again,” you say, giving his arm a final squeeze before he steps through the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll come by the radio tomorrow and check on you, ok?”

“Ok, Benny, stay safe, love you!”

“Love you too, sis!” he calls as he jogs down the stairs.

…

You try to keep busy while you wait for Frankie; preparing dinner, cleaning the apartment, you even pull out your gun and start disassembling it on the coffee table to get it cleaned. It’s dark before he comes home, you hear his footsteps in the hallway first and then the key. Even before he opens the door you know something’s wrong, he struggles with the key in the lock, fumbling with the handle and you stand up, leaving the pieces of the gun on the table.

“Frankie?” you ask as the door shuts behind him, “Are you ok?” You walk over to the front door, and he glances up at you before he drops his backpack by the door.

“Yeah, ‘s fine,” he mumbles, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. “Went out with Benny today.”

“I know, Benny stopped by the radio,” you say, your body freezing as he shuffles past, only briefly pausing to drop a peck on your cheek, perfunctory. He smells of whiskey, fresh whiskey, like he’s just been drinking.

You don’t even know where to start as you follow him into the kitchen, the argument last night, him leaving this morning without saying anything, his run with Joel today or the way he stumbles around the kitchen table towards the stove.

“Frankie…” you say again, making your voice soft, you feel like you’re talking to a child, or a wild animal, not your sweet Frankie who you know so well. When he doesn’t even react, let alone look over at you, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, reminding yourself that this is his PTSD, this is not your Frankie.

“Frankie, talk to me please,” you start again, coming up next to him at the counter, you put your hand on his arm.

“What did Benny tell you? That we went out again?” he says, still not looking at you, his tone clipped.

“Yes, he said you took out some raiders and then…” you pause, you don’t know how to phrase it but Frankie does it for you. He steps away from you, and leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.

“H-he told you we took out three people in a car, that I shot one of the guys when I shouldn’t have, right? That’s what he told you? T-that I’m out of control and violently torturing civilians?” His voice is harsh, there’s an edge to it you don’t recognise and he’s still not looking at you.

“He’s worried about you, Frankie, and I’m too,” you say, “you haven’t been yourself these past few months.” You try to find his eyes but he’s got the bill of his cap pulled low, eyes on the floor two feet in front and his fingers are twitching, nervously.

“I already told you, I do what I need to do, to stay safe,” he mutters, the edge still sharp in his voice, crossing his arms tight over his chest, crossing his legs too, closing himself off from you.

“Benny said they were civilians, just trying to get to the QZ- “ you start to say but Frankie suddenly flares up.

“We’d just taken out a gang of raiders! It could’ve been more of them! The guy was about to pull a fucking gun on Joel, so I took the shot!” He throws his arms out, meeting your eyes for the first time. “You can’t fucking trust anyone, it’s us or them and I do what I need to do to survive! They could’ve attacked and killed us instead, then what?”

“But you were never like that before, Frankie!” you can’t help but raise your voice in frustration. When he worked with Pope in Arlington, or when you traveled up to New York with Benny and Pope, he was never so calloused, so distrusting and rash. “You used to observe, calculate the risks, you never rushed into situations, but since you started working more with Joel…I don’t know Frankie, it’s like he rubs off on you.” You drop your hands to your sides, you suddenly realize you’ve mimicked Frankie and thrown them open but now you sigh, lower them and take a deep breath.

“Frankie…I know you’re capable of real violence,” you shake your head, sighing, “but you’re not a violent person, it’s like it’s getting away from you when you work with Joel and I do-”

“Maybe I am a violent person now? This is the person I need to be now, to keep myself safe, to keep us safe!” Frankie slams his hands against the cupboard and stalks out of the kitchen, turning and gripping the back of the couch as he gets to it, looking back at you. “I do it for you, don’t you get it?! Maybe this is the person I have to be now to keep myself safe, for you, to stay alive for you because I have to keep you safe!”

“Then stay here, stay in the QZ,” you follow him towards the living room. “I don’t want you to go out any more if this is what you have to do. It’s destroying you!”

“That's all I can do!” he shouts back at you, “That’s all I’m tra-trained for, I’m the b-best at it! It’s the only thing that makes a difference!”

“Frankie, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Frankie just shakes his head and starts pacing the living room like he can’t hear you.

“E-every time I leave you make me p-promise to come back safe, did you ever stop to think that this is what I have to do to keep that promise to you?! I have to stay alive to keep you safe, I promised you that and now you think I’m a monster for what I have to do?”

Frankie slams his hands hard against the wall and spins round, stomping across the living room again and you’re worried now, he’s spiraling out of control, his voice becoming more and more unstable. “I d-do this for you, I stay a-alive for you, don’t you get it! I would’ve fucking ki-killed myself after she died! I was so fucking close to it, so-s-so fucking close to just walking into that fucking lake and ending it! If-if it wasn’t for you still in that cabin!” His voice is rising to a shout, spinning around and slamming his fist into the wall again, “I just..I promise to come back every time, I have to come back but you still think I’m just violent, just a fucking monster, just a mo-monster, I-I can’t- “

“Frankie, c’mon man!”

You didn’t even hear the front door open but Pope suddenly walks into the living room. You’re frozen by the kitchen as Frankie paces, more and more agitated, back and forth, his arms waving in front of him as his mind whirls. You can see his glassy eyes, his breathing is starting to get erratic but you have no idea how to stop this. But Pope strides over to his friend and stands in front of him, forcing him to come to a halt.

“Francisco, cálmate, hermano. Por favor;” he tries to catch Frankie’s eyes, gently placing his hands on his shoulders and holding on as Frankie tries to shrug them off, looking at him with almost unseeing eyes.

“Frankie…fuck…” he sighs as he scans his face, “you’re high as a fucking kite. What did you take?”

At that Frankie’s eyes snap up to Pope’s, “Fucking nothing!” he snarls, wrenching himself away and stumbling back towards the couch.

“Fish, I’ve seen you high more times than you can remember, I know when you’ve been using, man,” Pope says as Frankie grabs the back of the couch again, hiding his eyes beneath the bill of his cap again, refusing to look at you or Santi.

“Frankie…” you try, your voice wobbling as you recognize the signs in him but he just shakes his head.

“I had a few drinks with Joel, I’m not fucking high,” he mutters but Santi shakes his head.

“C’mon, Fish, I know you’re struggling, she knows it too, we just wanna help you,” he takes a few steps towards Frankie, the frustration seeping through into his voice and Frankie backs away, turning around and going for his backpack.

“I’m not fucking high,” he snarls over his shoulder, rifling through his backpack.

“Fine, you’re not using,” Santi says, “then show us your pack.” He motions towards the bag at Frankie’s feet and the way Frankie reacts makes your stomach sink another notch. His hands clench instinctively around the opening, pulling it closer but Pope steps in and reaches for the bag. Frankie abruptly stands up and stumbles back, grabbing it but his movements are slow and Pope’s faster, he snatches the backpack from Frankie, holding it away from him.

“Coño, pendejo!” Frankie snarls, trying to grab the bag back from Pope, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “What the fuck are you doing, Frankie?” Pope replies with a sneer, shoving him back and Frankie, already unsteady on his feet, stumbles backwards and falls onto the couch. “You told me yourself, never trust a fucking junkie.”

Keeping an eye on Frankie, while you stand stunned by the kitchen door, your hands gripping the door frame so hard your fingers ache, Pope opens the backpack and digs through it. It doesn’t take him long, under Frankie’s dull eyes he soon pulls out a small baggie with white pills. Pope sighs and holds it out to Frankie.

“What is it?”

“Painkillers,” Frankie mumbles, but his eyes drop from Pope to his feet, his lie so obvious it forces tears into your eyes.

“Frankie…” you whisper and he glances up at you and meets your eyes for a second before he looks away. But even in that brief glance you see the pain and guilt in his eyes and it pushes you to move, walking around the coffee table and sinking down on the couch next to him. You raise your hand to put it on his shoulder but before you touch him he’s on his feet, snatching the bag from Pope’s hand.

“It’s fucking painkillers, ok?!” he yells, his aggression flaring up as he stumbles towards the front door.

“Catfish, for fucks sake,” Pope shouts as his patience snaps, “get your fucking shit together, man!”

“Please, Frankie, you know this is your PTSD making you spiral, we’ve been here before,” you plead with him, standing up again as he stops with his back to you and the room. But whatever is in his system has control of him now as he shakes his head, his fingers twitching around the small baggie in his hand. Neither of you are getting through to him now, his body language closed off, even with his back turned you see the walls go up. But still, you go up to him where he stands by the door. His chin is on his chest, his shoulders up by his ears, you can feel the tension rolling off him as he fights whatever demon is in his mind. Gently you put your hand on his arm, and he trembles under your touch, giving the smallest shake of his head.

“Frankie…” you whisper, “please, stay with me, we’ve done this before, we can do it again, I love you.”

He shudders, a long held breath rushes out of him and he shakes his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I love you, I’m sorry.” He pushes open the door and his arm slips from under your hand. You hear him run down the stairs and Santi comes up behind him, he’s got his coat on.

“I’ll follow him, I won’t let him get into more trouble, I’ll get him back,” he gives you a quick squeeze and hurries after Frankie.

…

Frankie rushes through the streets, the bag of oxy burning a hole in his pocket. He has no plan for where to go, he left his coat back at the apartment and the cold March air is making him shiver. Picking up his pace he turns at random, down a street, and then another, losing himself in the narrow alleys of North End, but it doesn’t surprise him when he finds himself in front of Joel’s apartment building, a dirty red brick block. It makes sense; to end up here. He pushes the door open and stumbles up the stairs.

Joel’s slow to answer his front door, Frankie’s almost given up, prepared to sit and wait by the door, when the older man finally opens up and looks him up and down. “Hey Frankie, what’s up? You’ve got no jacket on.”

“I ran out on it, left in a hurry,” Frankie mumbles in reply, his mind is still foggy, he can’t quite focus on Joel. “I got some of your supply on me, Pope found it in my bag.”

“Ah, bet he wasn’t too happy about that,” Joel says, waving Frankie inside. “He ain’t too happy about me wanting to trade what we got up in Concord.” He closes the door and motions to the couch and Frankie slumps down on it as Joel goes to the kitchen and pulls out two glasses and a bottle.

“Give me one of those too,” Joel motions to Frankie’s pocket and sits down at the other end of the couch. Frankie pulls out the baggie and pour out the pills on the coffee table, handing one to Joel, taking another one for himself and they both down it with the whiskey.

Joel’s not one for talking much and Frankie’s grateful, he just needs a place to forget everything for a while. And for a long time both men sit at opposite sides of the couch, lost in their own minds as the chemicals take over. Frankie tilts his head back, his eye following the cracks in the ceiling until they slip closed and he just feels himself breathing, finally peace takes over in his mind as the fog settles.

Joel slips in another pill and another few large mouthfuls of the liquor, leaning back against the back of the couch and rubbing his eyes with his hand.

“You lost your daughter,” he says, almost surprising himself when the words come out.

Frankie doesn’t move, his eyes closed, “Yeah,” he squeezes his eyes shut, little sparks of red and yellow blossoming behind his eyelids, but he sees something else in his mind.

He tilts his head forward, opening his eyes and focusing on his hands, “Yeah,” he says again, rubbing his thumb over the fleshy part of his hand, he can almost see the blood on it. “I did, right at the beginning.”

“She got infected?”

Frankie balks at the question, the image of his little girl, mycelium under her skin, flashes up in his mind. He’s seen multitudes of infected since, killed so many, seen the thin white strands wriggle towards him as they attack and die in front of him, but he never lets himself commit what they look like to memory. This one is the only one that he remembers.

“Yeah,” he nods, “one of the first days.”

He and Joel have never talked about this before. He never talks to anyone about Lucía or what happened to her, not even to the one person who knows what he went through in the aftermath.

He glances over at Joel, he’s still leaning back on the couch, his hand rubbing over his eyes.

“D’you ever talk about Sarah?”

“No.” The answer is fast and curt.

Both men sit in silence for a few minutes, Joel shifts on the couch, looking over at Frankie, “Everyone’s lost someone. No one wants to hear about her.”

“How did she die?” Frankie locks eyes with Joel, suddenly it feels important to know how Sarah died. Joel knows how Lucía died, it feels important to know how Sarah died too. Joel meets his eyes for a few beats before he drops his gaze and stares at the wall opposite.

“It was the first night. We were trying to get away from town, ran into the military perimeter, a soldier shot at us. She…” Joel loses his words, his jaw clenching shut as he grinds his teeth, dropping his head between his shoulders.

Frankie feels the fog swirl around his mind, letting the minutes slip by while Joel stares down at his watch.

“I shot Lucía,” Frankie says, like a confession to Joel, to the man whose daughter was also shot. As if it makes a difference how they died. The daughters died and so did the fathers, when they failed.

The fog in his head clears slightly and behind the mist he sees the gun in his hand, aimed at his little girl, who no longer recognises him as she screeches and flails under the weight of her mother’s body. He reaches forward to the coffee table and takes two more pills, swallowing them down with the last of the whiskey in his glass, letting the fog cloud his mind again.

Joel blinks and looks at Frankie as if he has to think about what the other man just said, “You shot her?”

“I had to, I’d seen what they were turning into. I couldn’t…”

Joel leans forward, refilling his own glass and Frankies before he leans back, “I would’ve done the same.”

The two men sit in silence as the fog swirls through them, making thoughts slow to appear and slow to disappear.

“Sarah,” Frankie says, pushing a thought to the front of his hazy mind, “S-she was a great kid, L-Lucía loved her, fucking loved her. Didn’t stop talking about her for days after we got back.”

He grips the glass and takes a sip, shaking his head, trying to remember the comforting thought he just had, it’s stuck somewhere in his chest, he can feel it.

“I don’t…I do-don’t believe in God, I l-lost any faith I had in the army, you know. S-so many fucked up things that I saw, that I did,” he says, lifting his glass, motioning to the world outside. “I don’t believe in any god, any-anything. But I wish I did, because if Sarah d-died on that first night, that means that wherever they went, our kids, our little girls…Sarah was there waiting for Lucía. They weren’t alone,” Frankie pauses, he feels his chest constrict, that feeling like he can’t breathe threatening to overtake him. “I’d like to believe they weren’t alone,” he whispers, but in the quiet room, Joel still hears him.

Frankie slumps back down on the couch, spilling whiskey down his shirt, his burst of clarity suddenly spent, “They would’ve had each other…”

“We failed them,” Joel says, his voice low, Frankie can hear the fog in his mind too. “We should’ve kept them safe, but all we did was stand there. Couldn’t keep ‘em safe.”

Frankie nods, he feels his brain slowing down again, “I made so many mistakes…but she was the best mistake I made…couldn’t keep her safe,” he takes a large mouthful of the whiskey, it burns on the way down, distracting his mind for a second as he coughs.

“I don’t talk about Sarah, not even to Tommy,” Joel says, rubbing his thumb over the rim of the glass. “ ‘S’no point, just makes me angrier, I get by better if I don’t think about her.”

Frankie slumps down deeper into the couch, curling himself around the glass in his hand, watching the whiskey swirl around as the fog in his brain follows the motions.

“How do you stay alive,” he mumbles to the room and Joel tilts his head to look at the younger man, curled into the corner of the ratty old couch. The question is more for himself than for Joel but Joel answers anyway.

“For family,” he nods slowly, once, to himself, “for family, for Tommy. And for your woman, she kept you alive.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement and Frankie sighs.

“She doesn’t think I should do runs any more, and she’s right, I know she’s right,” he mutters, pushing his cap off his head and rubbing his temple with his free hand, the fog is lifting again and he feels the edge of panic in his mind, but he can’t remember what he’s should panic about.

“Why not? The drugs?” Joel motions at the dwindling pile of pills on the coffee table and Frankie grabs two of them, knocking them back with the whiskey still in his hand.

“My head is fucked up. From the army. ‘S’gets worse sometimes, ‘s’gets worse when I do runs, when I do violent things.” Frankie sighs, “She doesn’t like it.”

Joel snorts, a mirthless sound, “Men like us, you ‘n me, we do the violent things so others don’t have to, you keep her safe.”

“S’what I t-told h-her,” Frankie grumbles, he can feel his head getting heavier, the fog is so thick he can’t even push his tongue through it, it’s sticking to his teeth. “I do it-do it, t-to keep he-her safe.” He sinks further into the couch, his head leaning on the back of it as he wills his hand to lift up the glass to his lips and drain it. “I-I do it t-to come b-back t-to h-er.”

Through the fog in his own mind Joel sees Frankie tip forward, the empty glass in his hand, as he passes out. Joel’s glass clatters to the floor as he stumbles to his feet and staggers into the bedroom, falling onto the bed, passing out as his head hits the pillow.

Chapter 31

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