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“Evening!”
Frederick greets you at the door with a smile and rosy cheeks. His voice is loud and his stained lips make you raise your brow. The taste of wine on his lips clears everything.
“It seems I got catching up to do.” You say, allowing him to guide you to the kitchen with an arm around your waist.
“I already poured you a glass.” Arriving at the kitchen counter, he hands you a wine cup and reaches for his almost empty one. After clinking it against yours he downs the last gulp. You moan appreciative at the rich flavor.
“This is very nice. Is there any more?” You ask after glancing at the empty bottle on the counter. You inch closer to him and hook your finger to the waistband of his soft, dark sweatpants.
His smirk is smug and his voice a little slurred, “Chateau Lafite ’98 and I have another bottle. I’ll fetch it.”
You frown slightly, wondering why he’s been drinking such a damn expensive wine by himself. You tug on his pants to keep him where he’s standing, place down your glass and kiss him. He melts against you, sighing happily until you slide your hands under his cotton shirt and up his back.
“Your hands are cold!” He hisses and tries to pull away but you simply follow, holding on and tucking your face against his neck.
“But you’re so warm.” You whine against his skin. “I missed you.” You say, tightening your hold on him as he brings his arms around your shoulders.
“Can’t blame you.”
“You’re the one who sent a ton of texts asking me to come over tonight.”
“Hmph, doing you a favor really. I’m warm and my bed is most comfortable.”
Rolling your eyes, you pull away to look at him. “Can’t argue with that logic. So, emotional or for pleasure?” You ask referring to the wine.
“A little of both, but mostly pleasure. I deserved a treat.” His tone is light and nonchalant, letting you know it’s nothing to worry about.
You hum pinching his sides gently, which makes his eyes narrow in suspicion. You smile innocently, “Have you eaten anything?”
“Hm, only the cream puffs you made.”
“All of them?!”
He averts his eyes upward and looks a little abashed. “They were really good.”
“Well, I’m glad you like them but that’s no dinner.” You tell him, patting his sides and turning away to the refrigerator. “I’ll make us some sandwiches.”
“Alright, I’ll get more wine.”
You stare at Frederick from behind the open refrigerator door as he walks away. He was in his comfy clothes and slippers; their combination with his cane always amuses you. If he donned a lavish silk robe, you were sure he would look like a turn-of-the-century dandy lounging in his salon. Oh, he would look great in a smoking jacket.
Smiling at the mental image of a cigar-puffing Frederick, you return to the task at hand. You had little desire to deal with him being hung-over or with a stomach ache. So it would be best to feed him something substantial. You love him dearly, but he’s no prize when grumpy.
That daunting feeling had actually kept you away for a couple of days after the sudden realization. You actively avoided meeting him while you sorted out your feelings. That was some two weeks ago. It may have been rather cowardly of you, but you just hadn’t expected to fall in love with him and much less so soon. You have no idea how it happened. It was sneaky of him. He treats you so well and he’s terribly endearing, so he just stumbled right pass your defenses and suddenly you were caring for him and missing him and wanting to feed him nice things all the time. Startling, but not entirely unwelcomed. Your decided course of action was to continue as always and not be the one to say it first this time.
You hear him call you from the living room as you finish up in the kitchen. Gathering a few napkins you make your way to join him in doing whatever he was doing before you arrived.
-
Frederick felt content, tipsy and full. You had finished eating and were cuddled up on his couch, watching Law & Order. You said you didn’t care for that type of show but didn’t mind watching a couple of episodes. You had already subjected him to a marathon of period dramas, which he was starting to get hooked on but didn’t want to admit it yet. He wanted to get you into one of his stories first.
Getting drunk and watching the reruns had been his plan for the evening but this was so much better and ever so pleasant. He hadn’t seen you in the last two days, both being busy with work and last night you had gone out with friends.
He had felt lonely all day and after getting home early he sent you messages inviting you over. He was aware of his desire to have you around all the time, but he was also aware of the handful he could turn out to be. Some have taken it upon themselves to let him know in the past. So not wanting to end up alone once more and make you run off, he had to remind himself to give you space.
It had taken you so long to answer his messages he began to feel bitter, thinking you were avoiding him and not wanting to be with him, and opted to drink it off. He had forgotten you had two classes in the afternoon on Fridays.
But you were here now and he was happy and he was more concerned with the softness of your skin than whatever was going on TV. He had pulled your legs over his and his arms around your waist to hold you close. Every once in a while he would get a delicious whiff of your perfume, he was almost sure you had change it. His fingers had settled under your blouse, over the skin of your middle. You had an arm over his shoulders as you leaned on him and your hand would occasionally reach to brush his hair. You were so good to him. He would be purring if he could.
“You know, you kind of look like that ADA guy.” He hears you say distractedly.
“Hm, Barba?”
“Yeah, it’s uncanny really.” You consider the actor on screen for a moment longer. “He’s very handsome.”
He turns to look at you, but gets a face-full of hair from how close you are. Pulling away he asks, “Who’s more attractive?”
He watches your lips stretch in a smile as you pretend to mull the question over. “Hmmm…” You look at him and back at the screen where the lawyer in question was talking, before settling on him again. “You’re most handsome.”
“That’s what I thought.” He leans in and smirks at you arrogantly, knowing you had no patience for that expression.
You snort. “What you thought? I may just need to give this matter more consideration.” You lift your hand to push his face away, but he catches your wrist and brings it to his nose.
“Did you change perfumes?” He finally asks.
“Ah, yes. It’s very similar to the one I normally use, didn’t think it was noticeable.”
He takes a long whiff as he moves along your forearm. “Mmm, I like it. It’s earthy and…” He pulls you close to nuzzle the side of neck, “Succulent” The nuzzling tickles you and encouraged by your soft chuckles, he wanders toward the décolletage of your shirt. Leaning you back toward the couch he settles his face right between your breasts and you pat his head as he sighs. He inches a hand to the side of one of them, pushing it against his face. Happy and feeling silly he takes a big breath and pftpftpftpftpft!
He takes you completely by surprise, shaking his head between your breasts; you let out a short shriek at the odd felling and laugh. “Frederick, what the hell!”
His hands are quick to move to your sides to tickle you. You break down in laughter, falling back completely on the couch, desperately trying to stop him.
“Hahaha! Nooooo!”
With your legs over his lap, he was save from the kicking as he leaned over you, grinning like a fool. His fingers were relentless as he had you laughing and gasping for air.
“Stop! Stop! Ahahahaha!” And he does. It takes you but a second to catch the mischievous look in his eyes as you try to recover and he lifts your blouse over your stomach. “Don’t you dare, Frederick Chilton! Don’t you-ahahahaha!” He takes one more breath to blow another raspberry on your belly and laughs at your situation.
“I-cannot believe this!” You struggle to say between laughing as he continues tickling, your eyes watering. “I’m not here-hahahaha-for this!” You manage as you turn your body away, intent on crawling off the couch. “I’m leaving! Hahaha, stooop!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He pulls you back to him, shifting you unto his lap. “Stay.”
You catch your breath, still a little weary but unable to muster any anger toward him. Not with him grinning so widely and looking so happy. More surprise than anything really, you haven’t been tickled in years and Dr. Chilton didn’t seem the type. Well, the sober one.
“What was that?” You ask, moving your arms to his shoulders.
“You’re cute.” He provides in way of explanation. “What are you here for, hm?” He prompts, pulling you close as he leans against the back rest.
“I don’t know, after that little attack I have to reevaluate.” You add jokingly, “And plan my vengeance.”
“No, you don’t.” He tucks his face in the crook of your neck, placing a small kiss before sighing. The effects of the wine were wearing off and he was starting to feel sleepy. He wished he could teleport both of you to his bed as you were. It was so nice being like this, holding someone in silence, someone who was content to be with him, someone who cared. Frederick can’t remember a time when he felt as content and his heart as full.
“I love you.” The words were clear as he said them. It was the most natural thing to say and he hadn’t meant to say it like this. In a second he sobered up and was pulling away so brusquely your ass slips back unto the couch. He is wide eyed as he scans your face, hoping you had misheard.
There were supposed to be flowers, a good suit, and maybe a sunset and a gift and not him in his pajamas, not in his living room with his TV on.
“Huh?” You look confounded, he can’t blame you.
“I love you.” He repeats automatically, without thinking. Shut up, Frederick! This is a mess. He’s a mess. Why would you love a mess?
He bares your stare as you look at him intensely, the silence stretching painfully. He feels his cheeks seared by the heat of his blush. He prays that you misunderstood and all that came out of his mouth was a jumble of nothing. Oh god, he’s sweating.
You seem to be blushing too and for a moment you turn away, his heart sinking. But you look back and smile grandly.
“I love you too.” The words are soft and the tone is certain, almost bashful, absolutely perfect.
“What?”
You lift a hand to caress the side of his face.
“I love you, Frederick.”
He lets out a soft breath before grabbing your face and diving in for a kiss. You respond as keenly and he cannot believe his fortune.