Work Text:
“Where to?”
“Dancing.”
It was an answer he felt in his bones rather than knowing how to navigate with his legs. Kimiko didn’t mind and neither did Frenchie, there was a wonderful comfort in knowing that you were not lost alone. They left their basement that was cramped and musty but a home nonetheless and found themselves walking aimlessly down sprawling streets and alleys. At this time of night, they were alone and the streetlights obscured the stars but doused the world in a soft glow that made the light pollution well worth it.
“I must confess, mon coeur, I don’t know where to take you. I don’t really know where we are anymore,” Frenchie said with a lilt; they had walked past the shady areas he knew well.
“I know.” Kimiko signed simply, extending her hand.
Frenchie understood her immediately but he waited a second, translating her words again, making sure she wanted him to take her hand before he did it. When their fingers interlocked, he felt a kind of deep warmth fill his stomach. It was not arousal; it was comfort, safety.
Kimiko knew almost every street in New York well by now. She had spent enough nights wandering and enough days navigating for hits that she had built a rough but accurate map of the whole city in her mind’s eye. She closed her eyes for a second, thinking of a nice hotel where she’d once killed a very bad man. It was only a few blocks away.
She led Frenchie down the street and, once the responsibility of deciding their next step receded into walking a path she remembered without thinking, she became aware of the feel of his hand in hers. Soft and delicate, she grasped his hand harder and he grasped hers right back.
Frenchie was surprised when Kimiko led him into a hotel bathed in white marble and flanked with crystal chandeliers, he was shocked when she paid for a room with a stack of cash from her duffel bag, and absolutely thunderstruck when the doorman greeted her with a “Welcome back, miss” on the way to the elevator.
“This is nicer than we need, no?” He said with a hint of a laugh when she led him to a room with large windows and a perfect view of the city.
“No,” she signed back cheekily and Frenchie really did laugh.
“Mon coeur, you spoil me.”
“Dance?” She signed, moving her index fingers around each other like she had in the woods.
“Yes,” Frenchie signed tentatively and Kimiko beamed.
Everything they did was deliberate. Frenchie indicated that he wanted to hold her hand and she nodded, a hand on her waist and again she nodded. He nodded when she indicated that she wanted to put a hand on his shoulder. They stood like that in comfortable silence for a moment.
“There is no music!” Frenchie realized with a start, regretfully pulling away from her to play a French song on his phone.
“My maman played this in the kitchen. It was not a dancing song then, there was no one for her to dance with, but I always thought it would…” he prepared to resume their position when Kimiko knotted her arms around his neck and stood on tip toe, nestling her head into the curve of his shoulder. Instinctively, he put his hands on her waist and his breath hitched in his chest. They swayed slowly, so comfortable they were almost falling asleep until the violins of the song were replaced with the brash rap music that played next.
“We will have to dance more when we have not come off of such a long day,” he said, stifling a yawn.
Kimiko nodded, her eyes soft and sleepy.
“You should shower, Kimiko. It will feel like heaven on earth to sleep in a warm bed once you are clean.”
She went to her duffel bag to find some clothes and Frenchie began running the water until it was the perfect temperature, gesturing her into the bathroom and closing the door softly behind her.
Kimiko stood in the shower, eyes closed, and turned the water up until it was hotter than perfect. Hot water was a luxury and this fancy hotel would never mind her standing beneath it for longer than was strictly necessary. She liked the way it burned a little bit while also feeling like a moving blanket around her. Kimiko realized that this was the most relaxed she’d felt in a very long time. She liked knowing that Frenchie was right outside, even though the incandescent fear of something coming to hurt him while she was distracted kept her only half-focused on the shower.
The hotel had only given them one bed. It was understandable, of course; Kimiko had pulled out a stack of cash and glared at the man at the front desk, who took the money without counting it and thrust a set of room keys at her quickly with trembling hands. There was really no time for questions about anything.
Frenchie ached to be near her but he didn’t want to ruin this innocent perfection, so he began making the cushions and throw pillows of the couch into a more bed-like shape. An extra blanket in the drawer under the TV, this would do well. He smoothed them out on the couch, thinking with amusement and a bit of contempt that this couch would still be more luxurious than most of the places he’d ever slept.
Kimiko drummed her fingers lightly on the frame of the bathroom door to get Frenchie’s attention. Her skin was flushed pink from the hot water, her hair wrapped up in a towel, and her small body swam in his paisley sweatshirt. Frenchie liked the way his clothes looked on her, loved that she found comfort in them, and completely missed what she was saying because his brain was so clouded with these thoughts.
“What are you doing?” Kimiko signed again patiently.
“There is only one bed, mon coeur, but a couch in this place is like a whole castle to someone like me.”
“I want you to be comfortable.”
“Like I said, everything is comfortable to me.”
Kimiko raised her eyebrows, and Frenchie held the stalemate.
“Take a shower,” she signed, moving out of the doorway and into the room. “It will feel like heaven on earth.” When she signed this she gestured her hands flamboyantly, as if in her rendition of Frenchie’s accent.
Once Frenchie was in the bathroom, Kimiko looked at the makeshift bed Frenchie had constructed on the couch. It was far too small to be comfortable, there was no way his whole body would fit.
When Frenchie returned from the shower, he was wearing Kimiko’s old unicorn t-shirt as a crop top. Kimiko laughed audibly.
“You look better than I do,” she signed.
“I think it is only fair, mon coeur, and, besides, families share. Now what is this?”
He looked to see Kimiko sitting on the edge of the bed, now decorated with all the couch cushions and throw pillows as well, with the extra blanket on top of the comforter.
“I’ll help you move it back if you want to sleep on the couch, but-“
“This is good, Kimiko. Thank you.”
They slid under the covers, space enough between them to feel both alone and in company.
“Good night,” she signed and Frenchie repeated the gesture a few times before signing it back to her.
She smiled as she rolled over, taking in the ever glowing lights of the city through the open window.
She did not remember falling asleep. She did not remember waking up. All she felt was bullets of panic deep in her chest and foggy, horrible circumstances she couldn’t fully recall.
Frenchie woke up to her thrashing and breathing heavily, almost choking.
“Mon coeur, mon coeur, we are okay. It is only a dream.”
Her eyes were open now, her chest still heaving. She sat up on her knees, trying to force her breathing to return to normal.
Kimiko watched Frenchie out of the corner of her eye. He was standing up, bringing her a glass of water, wrapping her shoulders in the extra blanket, grabbing the TV remote. Her thoughts were still coming in waves, but her breathing evened out and she felt the exhaustion creeping back into her body.
“Look at this, mon coeur! It is Singin’ in the Rain, you will love this,” then, softer, he reassured her, “It is good to focus on other things, remind yourself what is real.”
Kimiko nestled into Frenchie’s side, her head laying over his heart. He put his arm around her until his hand rested at her waist again. She blinked her eyes slowly, the way a cat does only when it’s very content.
“This is Lina Lamont, she’s my favorite. I would love to see you play her,” Frenchie laughed and when Kimiko heard her voice she understood the joke. “Perhaps we will get so bored of being safe that we will audition for community theatre one day. How does that sound, mon coeur?”
“I didn’t know there were silent movies,” Kimiko signed, enthralled.
“Oh, they are wonderful! Some of the best actors in the world did it all without a word. Tomorrow we will watch Charlie Chaplin.”
They stayed like that for a while until sleep took them, their bodies turning and molding further into each other instinctively.