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You woke up to the soft press of butterfly kisses on your cheeks, your nose, and your forehead.
It was a blissful feeling, mixed with the rough tickle of a moustache and stubble.
“Wake up, baby…”
Frankie’s equally rough rasp gently broke the quiet, husky with the morning and your activities last night.
A smile tugged at your lips, though your eyes remained closed, trying to pretend you were still asleep.
Those kisses moved across your cheekbone, tickling over your ear with a soft hum, “Baby…”
Oooh, that tickled.
He knew that tickled you, but you were so cosy and warm, wrapped up in your bed covers with Frankie’s attention on you.
Suddenly, a puff of air and then something wet dipped inside your ear -
“EW!!! Frankie!!!!” You squealed, ducking your head into the covers and trying to wipe your ear.
The damn adorable bastard has just licked inside your ear.
He laughed softly, the beautiful sound rumbled in your ear and the bed dipped as he leant back, “I always know when you’re awake, you know that right?”
You reached up, tugging the cover back from your face, “Yeah, I know but… Still. I like teasing you.” You huffed playfully, grinning though but then that paused when you saw Frankie.
Messy chocolate waves sticking up every which way, his equally dark eyes melting and warm. He wore that beautiful smile that made those twin dimples pop out either side of his plush lips. He had a smattering of stubbly beard along his jaw, speckled with white that was mirrored above his top lip.
God, he was utterly gorgeous.
Every single day you were kind of stunned that this handsome, thoughtful, adorable, cheeky and Gods-gift of a man was yours.
Hang on…
He was wearing a party hat on his head.
Why was he wearing a party hat?
Frankie grinned that irresistible puppy grin, holding up a mug of tea, made perfectly to your taste, “Happy birthday, cariño…”
Of course!!! How could you forget it’s your birthday?
Your face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds and a soft laugh escaped your lips, “Oh!!! Of course!! I remember now.” You sat up and then reached for the mug he was holding – a cup decorated with fish. Of course.
What else would you have?
Frankie blinked a few times, pulling back his hand so you couldn’t reach your tea, “Hang on. Did you just say you remember?” He stared at you, amusement growing across his face mingled with disbelief.
He often wore that expression.
“Baby, did you forget that it’s your birthday today?”
“Uhm…” You bit your lip, peering at him with a wide-eyed expression.
To which he promptly burst into repressed giggles.
Colour dusted along your cheeks, and you glared at him with mock annoyance, your lower lip jutting out, “Hey! Don’t laugh at me! We’ve been super busy lately and it just… slipped my mind.”
A laugh broke free now, that oh-so familiar husky, rich laugh, “’Slipped your mind’? It’s not like it’s a rare occurrence, cariño. It happens every single year without fail.” He was still holding your tea away from you, a hand on his chest as he chuckled again.
You leaned forward further, gently hitting him on the shoulder and taking your tea from him, “You are an ass, Frankie Morales. I’m going to go and live with Pope instead.”
Frankie’s laughter died in his throat, and it was his turn to pout. Yet, his eyes had darkened into a hint of that smouldering black that still caught you by surprise – the man had a side to him that you imagined not a lot of people realised. “You think Pope could treat you better than I can?”
His voice had deepened too, a rougher cadence that had coaxed you – dragged you – through many a pleasurable night – or day. Or anytime really. He might be older, but he had one hell of a skillset and stamina.
You gulped your tea a little harder than intended, the hot liquid scalding your throat and you gazed back into those endless pools of love – and desire, “Hmm, I don’t know. I might have to ask Pope to prove it to me the next time I see him. It would be an unfair comparison otherwise.”
Something like a soft growl echoed in your boyfriend’s throat, but his response was cut off by the sound of your phone calling.
It was the rest of the boys, video calling you on your group chat.
You shot Frankie an innocent grin and a wink, then answered the phone to a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ led by Benny.
~~~
~~
“Wow, Frankie, this looks… Amazing. Truly, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
You looked around your little apartment kitchen, taking in the sight.
Every inch of the room had been covered in banners, flowers and balloons.
The table in the centre of the room was laden with a spread of breakfast pastries, muffins, bagels and waffles. Way too much food for just you and Frankie, but you would see the boys later and it would no doubt be devoured in seconds.
Frankie utterly beamed, standing at the counter heating up chocolate sauce for the waffles, “Yeah? You really like it?” He looked around the cosy kitchen, “I’m in competition with myself each year.” He laughed, stirring the sauce and then pouring it into a little ceramic jug.
You walked further into the room, taking a picture of everything before leaving your phone on the side and walking to the table, “Well, you have definitely beaten every other year. Even though I love each time.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, a little bashfully and then noticed you moving to sit down. “Ah, ah, ah.” He put down the jug, then pulled out your chair, “Mi reina.” That signature puppy grin flashed at you yet again.
You giggled, pulling out the edges of the oversized t-shirt you were wearing – Frankie’s – as if it were a dress you were curtseying in, “Thank you, my Lord.” You plopped down in your seat.
Frankie pushed you in carefully, bringing you closer to the utterly delicious spread of food and then he moved away.
Seconds later, you felt something being secured to the top of your head and you made a soft noise, “What are you doing up there?”
He slipped back into his seat opposite you, “I’ll show you.” A quick snap of his camera and then he handed you his phone.
You were wearing a toy crown, completely with a pink heart and a fluffy edge that read, “Birthday Queen.” You wore a wide grin, eyes bright as always when you looked at Frankie and laughter danced along your face.
Happy.
You sent it to yourself then gave back his phone, “I’m keeping this on all day you know.” A familiar, comforting warmth curled up in your chest as you watched Frankie pour you a fresh tea.
Chocolate eyes flashed up at you, as rich as the pastry he pulled onto his plate, “I should hope so. I had to race some little kid for that in the store. It was the last one left.”
Sweet laughter filled the air as you began to eat, sharing mouth-watering food and chatting about little random things.
~
Another cup of tea and a round of pastries later, Frankie reached under the table and then emerged, holding a small box, “Here. Present number one.” He held it out to you, his eyes all melty and loving.
Wiping your fingers on your napkin, you took the box from him carefully, giving it a little shake, “Is this when you make me cry?” You pushed a space free to set down the box and began to unwrap the meticulous wrapping.
One may think Frankie wouldn’t take much care, but this man was a pilot. A former Delta Force operative.
He was ridiculously smart, with a keen eye and a solid, calm personality in the presence of danger.
Wrapping a present with such careful precision wasn’t something that shocked you.
The man in question finished off his pastry, taking a sip of his coffee, “I’m saying nothing.”
Was that a trace of nervousness in his voice?
You set the wrapping paper aside, untying the little ribbon that secured the box closed and then you lifted the lid, your own fingers trembling.
And with good reason.
Because nestled inside, sat the most stunning necklace you had ever seen.
A delicate chain held a small gold circle, no bigger than an inch wide. It glimmered slightly in the light, flashing along one edge like there was something there.
And there was.
Engraved along one side, was a set of coordinates.
A curious frown just puckered your brow and then it cleared, “Oh.” You whispered the word, because your heart had just failed to work as you realised what they were.
Longitude and latitude coordinates.
“The co-ordinates of where we first kissed on the beach in Mexico.” Frankie’s voice was quiet, rough.
Tears prickled the backs of your eyes, the memory rising to the surface as clear as if it were yesterday.
You and the boys had gone away one summer, and it was a trip full of fun, laughter and joy that would never be forgotten.
You and Frankie had been infatuated with each other, but too shy to make the first move.
Will had all but locked you both out of your hotel rooms, so Frankie had invited you for a sunset walk along the beach.
The hot day had mellowed into a balmy evening, a gentle breeze kissing your skin as it blew across the water.
You and Frankie had gone from walking side by side, to walking hand in hand, and then standing at the wates edge, wrapped up in each-others embrace, kissing softly as the sun went down.
The pair of you had been together ever since.
It was utterly perfect, a beautiful symbol that only the pair of you would know the meaning of, a symbol of the beginning of this utterly blissful relationship.
You swallowed that lump in your throat, a tear slipping down your cheek, “Thank you so much, Frankie…” You couldn’t manage any more than a whisper, touching the pendant with your fingertip before carefully liftin git from the box, “Will you help me put it on?”
Frankie nodded quickly, getting up from his seat and nearly stumbling with his haste. He cleared his throat, taking the necklace from you and undoing it, “You really really like it?”
It was your turn to nod quickly, turning your back to him and lifting your chin as he placed the pendant around your neck, “Yes. I love it, I honestly really love it. It’s perfect, I couldn’t fault it at all.”
He let out a slight breath, the last of reservations leaving and he brought the chain around your neck, “I intend to make you have this reaction multiple times throughout the day, I’m just warning you.”
You laughed, still a little hoarse and the pendant settled on your chest in the perfect place just beneath your collarbones, “Oh god, I better get the waterproof mascara out then.”
Frankie rested his hands on your shoulders after securing the clasp, giving them a gentle squeeze as he ducked his head and pressed warm lips to your temple. He smelled like roasted coffee and chocolate pastries, “The boys are hosting a bbq for you later… Pope is in charge of cake.”
You raised your eyebrows, making a noise of surprise and a little laugh, “Pope went to get a cake?”
Frankie’s lips curled into a grin against your skin, “Oh no, cariño. He made you a cake.”
No way. Pope had not made you a cake.
“Pope. Our Pope. Santiago Garcia has been baking a cake for my birthday.”
“Yes.” Frankie nuzzled his nose into your neck, still grinning like a cat, “And he is very, very proud of it so don’t break his heart.”
God, you adored these boys.
“I won’t, I promise.” You licked some sugar from your thumb, pushing away your empty plate, “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, you know.”
It made your heart all melty, a fluttering feeling in your chest as you realised that no matter how many years you were friends with your boys, they would always treat you like the amazing, kind, beautiful person you were.
Frankie picked up your empty plate, dropping a final kiss on the back of your head, “I’m going to choose not to answer that because if you say that later, you’ll only hear it again. And you know what Pope is like in an argument.” He put the plates in the sink and then came back to the table, “We love you, baby. You do so much for us, put up with so much shit from us all when we came back and…” He shrugged lightly, “You deserve it.”
You looked up at him, fiddling with your new necklace and you ducked your head, warmth dusting your cheeks, “You’re not allowed to say something like that…”
He chuckled, adjusting the string of his party hat as he leant forward into the table, his worn grey T-shirt pulling tight on his arms, “I am. I told you when we got together that I would make you feel loved like a queen and happy for the rest of your life, and I meant it.”
Frankie did mean it.
Every single day, whether you woke up together or not, there was always a message on your phone or a piece of paper, written in his messy handwriting.
Sometimes in Spanish, sometimes just a few words or a whole paragraph - but there was always something there for you.
Other times, it’d be little gifts left out.
A package of cookies from your favourite local bakery, a vase of flowers left out on the side with your mug ready for a drink.
Once, he filled the entire kitchen with blooms, frothy white flowers, sweet-scented jasmine, lush peonies and roses… Every surface was covered, and it was absolutely beautiful.
Until Frankie had suddenly developed hay fever.
And spent the entire afternoon sneezing with streaming eyes.
The memory made you smile fondly, something you’d never forget.
You gazed across at your boyfriend of two years, who was currently making a paper aeroplane out of the discarded wrapping paper on the kitchen table.
Typical.
You sipped your tea, resting your warm mug against your cheek as you admired him, just sitting peacefully in your shared kitchen, more presents waiting to be opened, with music playing softly in the background, which you knew you’d be dancing to again before going to the boys later.
A wonderful birthday, as usual, with your love and your friends.