Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At first, Eddie let out a sneeze, and his partner urged him to take it easy. Then came a few coughs, and his partner again reminded him to rest. Finally, the full force of the cold hit him, with chills, body aches, and a temperature of 104 degrees.

Frank was naturally annoyed. He had warned Eddie to take better care of himself, and now he was paying the price. Frank took the thermometer from Eddie's mouth and checked the reading. Sure enough, Eddie had a fever and all the classic symptoms of a cold. He would need to stay in bed for at least a week.

As Frank studied the thermometer, Eddie looked up at his grumpy but loving partner and smiled tiredly.

"I'm sorry darlin’," Eddie whispered weakly. "I should have listened to you."

"Indeed," Frank replied matter-of-factly, placing a fresh cold compress on Eddie's temple and tenderly brushing his hair with his fingers.

Suddenly, there came a knock at the door, interrupting the peacefulness of the sick room.

Frank rolled his eyes, thinking about who the visitors might be. As he opened the door, a flash of colorful feathers caught his eye, revealing Poppy, the neighborhood's mother figure, standing at the doorstep, holding a canister.

The bird, startled by the sudden door opening, let out a surprised "Oh-oh my!"

Poppy then handed the canister to Frank, who felt slightly embarrassed for assuming it was someone else and offered his thanks.

"It's homemade chicken noodle soup," she said with a hint of motherly affection in her voice. "It'll perk Eddie right as rain in no time!"

As soon as Poppy left, there was another knock at the door, causing Frank to assume that she might have forgotten something. But, to his surprise, it was the rest of the neighborhood, face to face with him.

Julie barged into Frank's home and exclaimed, "We heard Eddie's sick!" The colorful monster appeared genuinely worried.

With an audible sigh, the grumpy gray puppet knew that it was going to be a long day.

Wally sat on the edge of the bed, his little legs lazily kicking back and forth as Eddie enjoyed Poppy's soup while sitting upright.

"Hey, I think I might be better! So much better, in fact, that I think I might be able to-"

"Get back in that bed, Eddie Dear!" Frank interrupted, his voice holding a warning tone.

Wally giggled as Eddie complied.

"Quiet, you," Eddie playfully remarked, lightly shoving the smaller puppet.

Sally theatrically put a hand to her temple and said, "Oh, it's just so tragic! With you being sick and all! Whatever shall we do?"

Julie bounded over and hopped directly onto the bed, causing a loud bang that resulted in Frank scolding her.

"Julie, please be careful with the bed," Frank pleaded, his frustration evident in his tone.

Julie laughed mischievously before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small container of medicine. "Howdy couldn't leave the store, but he wanted me to give you these!" she announced, tossing the container to Frank.

Frank caught it and inspected the label, surprised to find that it contained horse tranquilizers. "Julie, what is this?" he asked, perplexed.

Julie's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, shoot! That's the wrong thing. I must have grabbed it by accident," she admitted, looking embarrassed. "I don't know how or why Howdy has those."

"To put horses to sleep, of course!" Wally spoke up, his legs still dangling back and forth.

"Sweetheart," Eddie began, as he let out a loud sneeze, shocking Wally and causing the smaller puppet to fall off the bed. "With me out of commission and all, how will these letters be delivered?"

That was a good question.

With a scoff, Frank replied, "Why, me of course! It can't be that hard." He put his hands on his hips, feeling confident about his ability to handle the task.

Wally, still on the floor, spoke up. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Frank asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well," Wally hesitated. "You're not exactly known for your stellar mail-delivering skills."

Frank responded with indignation, "Well, I've never done it before!" This was just what he needed: attitude from the guy who still enjoyed finger painting.

Julie simply shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno, it sounds like it might be fun!"

Frank turned to his best friend, grateful for her unwavering support. He knew he could always count on Julie to have his back!

" Although," Julie continued, "remember the last time you tried to help someone who was sick? Howdy's store?" She cringed at the memory.

Frank's face fell slightly, remembering the disaster that had occurred at the store.

The room fell silent as everyone recalled the infamous "incident".

"Don't worry, dear, I can get these letters out to everyone faster than a jackrabbit on a hot skillet in the middle of July!" Eddie declared, attempting to get out of bed.

Frank shot him a stern look, forcing Eddie back into bed.

" Or maybe not," the mailman replied meekly, causing another bout of giggles from Wally, who was still on the floor.

"You got in trouble!" the smaller yellow puppet cheerfully sang out.

Frank pulled the smaller male to his feet, "Hush you!" he said sternly.

"Sugar pie," Eddie began, but Frank cut him off, "Don't you sugar pie me! I can do this. All you do is walk around and put letters into mailboxes!" Frank rubbed his face, trying not to get angry.

As everyone in the room exchanged a look, there was an awkward silence.

Eddie furrowed his brow in disbelief. He was taken aback by how carelessly Frank had just described his job. It made it sound like any untrained primate could do it!

Sally couldn't help but pay close attention to the unfolding drama, sensing potential entertainment. Stars danced wildly in her eyes.

"Well, I'm pretty sure a monkey could do it!" Frank retorted, his voice lacking any hint of irony.

The room fell silent, a sensation that the situation was about to escalate.

Eddie gasped, offended by Frank's dismissive attitude. Julie held her breath, anticipating an argument. Sally grinned with delight, eager to use the drama for her next play.

Meanwhile, Wally was preoccupied with folding paper, oblivious to the brewing tension.

"What?" Frank asked, genuinely confused by Eddie's reaction.

"My job takes a lot more effort! There's a lot that goes into being a mail carrier!" Eddie retorted.

Frank scoffed once more. "Oh yes, delivering letters to eight residents-"

"Nine!" Wally interrupted. “You forgot Home!”

"NIne residents," Frank corrected himself with an eye roll, emphasizing how little he cared.

Wait who wrote letters to Home anywa-

The grumpy puppet shook his head, removing the thought from his mind. A sense of dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of Home.

Eddie's arms crossed in front of him, slightly hurt by Frank's dismissive attitude towards his job. The southern man had an eyebrow raised and a pout. It looked cute, Frank thought silently.

"I'll prove it. I'll be a substitute mail carrier and show you that it's not a difficult task!" Frank declared.

Frank walked over to the wall rack and picked up Eddie's mailbag, hoisting it onto his shoulder. Julie expressed her concern, "Frank, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

Meanwhile, Wally proudly presented Eddie with a poorly-made origami star, but Eddie was too focused on the argument at hand to appreciate it fully.

Frank chuckled as he put on the mailman's hat. "How hard could it be? I mean, it's just delivering letters, right?"

Eddie furrowed his brow. "It's a lot more than that, Frank. There’s an awful lot of danger lurking around every corner you know?"

Frank shrugged. "I'm sure I can handle it. It's not like it's rocket science."

Wally looked up from his origami. "But what about Barnaby?"

"Barnaby?" Frank raised an eyebrow. “What in the world does he have to do with this? And where is he anyway he’s almost always glued to your side, Wally.”

Wally, upon hearing his name set aside his origami. “He didn’t wanna get sick, said that if he did you guys would all miss out on his jokes!”

Oh yeah, Frank thought sarcastically, wouldn’t wanna miss out on being told the same riveting knock knock joke over and over!

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, for some reason the only time he wants to act like a dog is when I’m passing by his house and he wants to chase me as a joke." There was a small scowl of annoyance that appeared briefly on Eddie’s face.

Sally and Julie exchanged glances, both amused and curious about how the argument would unfold.

Frank rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid of Barnaby. I’ll just wack him with, I don’t know, a rolled-up newspaper!”

Eddie shook his head. "It's not that simple, Frank. You have to be aware of your surroundings and keep the mail safe and secure at all times."

Frank scoffed. "Please, it's just a few letters. I bet I can do it in no time."

Eddie's gaze bore into Frank with intensity, his voice shifting from its usual cheerful tone to a deep, serious timbre. "Frank, you underestimate the significance of my work," he asserted, his words laced with conviction. In that moment, something unexpected stirred within Frank—a recognition that the way Eddie spoke, with such authority and command, sent a thrilling shiver down his spine. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, igniting a newfound attraction. Oh no, Frank thought, his mind awash with both surprise and a hint of desire. The gray puppet shook his head trying to regain his composure his face tinged pink.

Wally chimed in. "But what about the rain and snow, Eddie?"

Eddie smiled. "Good question, Wally. You have to be prepared for all kinds of weather conditions and make sure the mail is protected from getting wet or damaged."

Frank’s expression now turned to one of confusion. “It’s summer!” He gestured to the window his hand flapped wildly. “And there isn't a cloud in the sky!” he retorted with a puff of air escaping his lips. He was beginning to grow very annoyed now.

Julie couldn't help but giggle at the exchange between the two. She knew Eddie was passionate about his job, and Frank was just being stubborn.

Sally leaned back in her chair, taking it all in. She wondered if she could use this as inspiration for her next play, a comedy about two lovers arguing over a seemingly simple job.

Meanwhile, Julie looked worriedly at the mailbag that Frank was struggling to carry. She knew firsthand how heavy it could get.

"Frank, please be careful with that," Julie urged.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Relax, it's not that heavy. You're all making such a big deal out of nothing." His skinny legs buckled slightly at the weight. What the hell was in this bag anyway? Wasn’t the letters at the post office?

Frank dug into the bag and was met with.….books. Ah, so that’s where those went, a few nights ago the gray puppet had asked his husband to help him put away some of the clutter from his desk and the forgetful man must’ve set them in here.

Eddie couldn't believe Frank's lack of respect for his job. "It's not just about carrying the bag, Frank. We have to sort through hundreds of letters and avoid obstacles, all while keeping track of the time. It takes a lot of effort and attention to detail."

Frank waved a hand dismissively. "Psh, I could do all of that blindfolded. It’s not like what I have to do, what with having to correctly identify the genus and species of insects as I log them into my books."

Eddie shook his head in frustration. "Well, if you're so confident, then fine, why don't you give it a try? Maybe then you'll finally understand how hard I work."

Frank smirked. "Challenge accepted."

Frank turned on his heels and strutted out the door, oozing an air of sassiness. But before he left, he called out to Julie, "Make sure Eddie doesn't leave that bed for even a second!"

"Aye aye, captain!" Julie hollered back. She then turned to Eddie and sternly commanded, "Stay!" her response was met with a pillow to the face.

Chapter Text

Stepping outside into the warm summer air, Frank took a moment to survey his surroundings. If he was going to temporarily fill in for Eddie as the mailman, he knew he had to familiarize himself with the area.

It wasn't that large a neighborhood; there were only eight neighbors, or nine if you counted Wally's house, Home.

Frank couldn't fathom the rationale behind it. Who in their right mind would pen a letter to a house? Sentient or not. The concept felt eerie, and he attempted to banish the notion from his mind. Standing in his yard, he cast his gaze toward Home, situated ominously at the heart of the neighborhood, and an unsettling sensation crept over him. It was as if the dwelling fixated its gaze upon him, a disconcerting presence that sent shivers down his spine.

To check the time, Frank cast his gaze toward the oversized whimsical clock stationed a short distance away from the neighborhood. Its prominent position ensured that anyone seeking the time could easily discern it.

Curiously, none of the neighbors possessed a clock, save for Eddie, who sported a wristwatch. It wasn't quite midday, but rather the latter part of the morning. Content with this knowledge, Frank nodded approvingly. If he embarked on his walk to the post office promptly and commenced the delivery of letters, he would undoubtedly complete the task before the lunch hour. A self-satisfied smirk graced his face.

This task was going to be incredibly easy.

Just as Frank prepared to make his way to the post office, his attention was unavoidably drawn to the sight of Julie's disheveled yard. Toys lay strewn haphazardly in every direction, creating a chaotic scene.

A sigh escaped Frank's lips. This state of affairs simply wouldn't suffice.

With an exasperated eye-roll, Frank took it upon himself to restore order to Julie's yard.

Amongst the tangled mess, he discovered jacks cunningly concealed within the foliage, the birthday tea set trapped in the branches of the nearby tree, a Frisbee precariously dangling from the roof, multiple board games scattered about, their pieces tossed about like confetti, and a jump rope entangled in a jumbled heap near the entrance.

Collecting all the scattered toys, he meticulously arranged them inside the toy chest that Julie kept conveniently placed outside her house.

Wait, had he just been diverted from his original plan? Glancing at the clock, the time became starkly visible. Thirty minutes had elapsed?! He had unknowingly devoted half an hour to tidying up Julie's yard?!

Panic surged within Frank, propelling him to race towards the post office with resolute determination. Bursting through the doors, he swiftly retrieved the stack of neatly arranged letters from Eddie's desk and carefully packed them into the mailbag, ensuring their preservation.

Now, let's see. If he commenced his rounds from the post office, the first stop would be Poppy's abode.

Alright.

Frank strode purposefully toward the barn where the vibrant bird resided. With each step, the delectable scent of freshly baked treats enveloped the air, luring him closer. Poppy had a knack for baking, and Frank hoped for a delightful surprise awaiting him. However, amidst the tantalizing aroma, a different scent caught his attention.

Was there something burning?

His eyes widened in a flurry of panic as he hurriedly approached the barn, his footsteps nearly kicking the door open.

"Poppy?! What's that burning smell? Are you alright?" he inquired, his voice brimming with concern. Startled, the bird let out a squawk in response.

Poppy stood there, holding a tray of charred... charcoal? Once, those remnants might have been cookies.

"Oh my goodness gracious, Frank! You startled me!" Poppy exclaimed, her feathers ruffled.

"Startled? You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought your barn was ablaze!" Frank retorted, his hand resting on his chest as he attempted to calm his racing heart.

Poppy sniffled and placed the tray down, causing the charcoal cookies to crumble.

"Ah, I had a feeling today was going to bring misfortune!" she lamented, switching off the stove.

"My stove has been acting up all week! I reckon it's high time I replace the old gal," Poppy continued with a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping.

Frank pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a deep sigh. Alright, he needed to expedite matters; daylight was slipping away.

Delving into Eddie's mail bag, he retrieved a handful of letters and handed them over to Poppy. She chirped happily, graciously accepting them, but her anxiety soon resurfaced.

"What if I accidentally get a paper cut?" Poppy asked, her voice trembling with nervousness.

Frank, with an eye roll of mild exasperation, swiftly tore open the letters on behalf of Poppy, silently relieved that Eddie was nowhere in sight to scold him for meddling with someone else's mail.

Poppy's gaze darted across the contents of the letters. "Oh! Howdy's arranging a new stove for me? How thoughtful!" she exclaimed, though a hint of anxiety lingered in her voice. She looked up at Frank, her eyes now filled with a touch of terror.

"I just hope it's not a gas stove!"

Leaving Poppy's barn behind, Frank stole a quick glance at the clock. Twenty minutes had slipped away, wasted. Damn.

In a hurry, he swiftly departed from Poppy's barn and set off towards Sally's house. His task was straightforward: drop off the letters in her mailbox. Fortunately, she was still at his place, probably putting poor sick Eddie through the paces of practicing her lines.

However, just as he approached Sally's door, it swung open abruptly, revealing the vibrant star herself.

"Perfect timing!" she exclaimed boisterously, seizing Frank's wrists and forcefully pulling him inside.

Everything blurred in a whirlwind, catching the unsuspecting bookworm off guard.

She pushed him into a chair and tossed a script in his direction.

"Sally, what in the world?! Weren't you still at my house?" Frank questioned, utterly bewildered.

Sally shook her head, clutching her own script tightly.

"Nope! I had to rush back home, my dear Frankly! An actor's work is never done, you know?" she replied, twirling around and unintentionally knocking over a vase of flowers.

"I totally meant to do that!"

Thus, against his will, Frank found himself reluctantly tasked with reviewing Sally's script. His duty was to spot any grammatical errors and ensure the scenes flowed smoothly.

Frank emitted a groan, his hand rubbing across his face in sheer frustration. He had letters to deliver, for crying out loud!

"Goodbye, Frank!" Sally called out as the grumpy puppet exited her house.

Frank grumbled a response, muttering something about irritating spiky-headed puppets. Sally couldn't quite catch his words. She shrugged and slammed her door shut.

In an exasperated huff, Frank trudged from Sally's place over to Julie's. To his dismay, the rainbow monster had returned to her yard, creating an even greater mess this time.

"Julie, I just cleaned up your yard! How did it become a complete disaster so quickly?" Frank exclaimed in frustration.

Looking up from her hopscotch path, Julie shrugged but beamed a bright smile.

"I don't know. Weren't you supposed to be delivering Eddie's letters? Why are you so concerned about my yard?" she replied cheerfully.

Frank sighed. She had a valid point, damn it.

"Here, just take these," he grumbled, handing her the vibrant envelopes.

"Yay!" The rainbow monster joyfully tore open the envelopes, scattering torn paper all across the grass.

Frank moved on, passing by his own house where he caught sight of his husband through the window. Eddie weakly waved upon spotting him, and Frank reciprocated with a smile.

Continuing on from his home, he proceeded to his next destination: Barnaby's house. Eddie had mentioned that the large blue dog enjoyed chasing him during his mail route every morning. Well, that wasn't going to happen to Frank Frankly. Determined, Frank approached Barnaby's doghouse, clutching the mail in his gray fingers.

"Heya, Frank," Barnaby's voice called out, its familiar tone already starting to grate on the gray puppet's nerves.

"Good mor-afternoon, Barnaby," Frank gritted through his teeth, realizing how late it was getting.

Barnaby scrutinized Frank, taking a few puffs from his pipe as he did so.

"I see you're doing Eddie's job now," Barnaby remarked, puffing on the pipe a bit more.

"Indeed I am. Do you have an issue with that?" Frank replied, his eyes narrowing.

Barnaby raised his hands in a defensive gesture, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Hey now, Franky buddy, I ain't got a problem with it." Barnaby took the pipe from his mouth and emptied the remaining tobacco onto the ground before slipping the now-empty pipe into his vest pocket.

Frank thrust the envelopes into Barnaby's massive paws.

"Good, glad we're on the same page," the gray puppet responded, relieved that he didn't have to worry about Barnaby causing any trouble.

Barnaby tossed the envelopes onto his porch, his mischievous grin widening as he dropped down onto all fours.

Frank slowly backed away.

"What are you doing, you overgrown mutt?"

Barnaby chuckled darkly. "Me? I'm about to engage in my favorite activity of the day. Tell you what, I'll give you a ten-second head start. I never do that for old Eddie."

"No! No! Bad dog!" Frank yelled as Barnaby chased him. The big blue dog barked and laughed simultaneously throughout the chase.

"Stop this immediately!" Frank shouted, his attention diverted as he failed to notice where he was going.

Why today, of all days, did he choose to wear his loafers? They were definitely not made for running! With Barnaby snapping at his heels, Frank felt panic and frustration welling up inside him.

"You mangy mutt, when I get the chance, I'm going to…!" Frank's threat trailed off abruptly as he collided with a tree.

Pain seared through his face upon impact with the unyielding trunk. Ouch. Frank slid down to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Are you alright, pal?" Barnaby asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Frank turned his head sharply, his glare piercing the oversized dog like daggers.

"When I get my hands on you, I swear I'll turn you into dog food!" Frank snapped, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

However, Barnaby's attention was no longer on him. The large dog let out a whimper and began to slowly retreat, then suddenly dashed off in the opposite direction.

"That's right! Run away, you pathetic, unfunny, sniveling--" Frank abruptly halted his rant. He could hear buzzing. His gaze dropped, and he realized what had frightened Barnaby.

When Frank crashed into the tree, he inadvertently disturbed a beehive.

Oh no. This was disastrous.

If someone had been outside at that moment, they would have witnessed Frank Frankly sprinting for his life from a swarm of angry bees. It would have been comical if it weren't so terrifying.

Fortunately, Frank didn't have to run much farther. His only objective was to reach Howdy's bugdega, and safety would be within his grasp.

The sound of buzzing grew louder, indicating the bees were closing in. Oh no. This was not good. Not good at all.

Amidst the chaos, the bugdega emerged like a heavenly oasis. Frank quickened his pace, his eyes fixed on the door, and he burst inside, startling Howdy, who happened to be carrying a crate of soda at that precise moment.

"What the-" Howdy exclaimed, dropping the cases of soda, which crashed to the floor, shattering the bottles and creating a mess of broken glass and sticky liquid that now covered his previously pristine floor.

Frank hurriedly slammed the doors shut, his breath ragged. Oh, thank goodness he was safe.

"Frank, what on earth is going on with you?" Howdy exclaimed incredulously. "Look at what you've done!" All four of Howdy's arms gestured towards the sticky chaos.

"Sorry, Howdy. It's just..." Frank peered out through the doors, his eyes scanning for any signs of the relentless bees.

"Bees. I was being chased by bees."

"Well, don't just stand there. I highly doubt they know how to open a door! Help me clean up this mess!" Howdy replied, tossing a broom in Frank's direction.

Once again, precious minutes slipped through Frank's grasp, and he stole a quick glance at the clock, its relentless ticking seeming to mock him. The sticky cleanup had taken a grueling forty-five minutes, ensuring every trace of shattered glass was meticulously removed.

After assisting Howdy in the laborious task and delivering the fuming caterpillar's letters, Frank bid his farewell and pressed on towards his final destination: Wally's house.

As Frank journeyed through the heart of the neighborhood, with Home standing as a symbol of unity, he was greeted by Wally's cheerful presence. The little yellow puppet beamed up at the perpetually grumpy Frank, extending a warm greeting.

"Hey there, neighbor!" Wally chimed in his usual calm and happy tone.

Frank grumbled, his hand delving into the mailbag to retrieve Wally's letters. "Hey, Wally," he muttered, handing over the envelopes.

Wally eagerly accepted the letters, his excitement palpable as he promptly delved into reading them.

Just as Frank began to walk away, Wally halted him in his tracks.

"Frank! Wait!"

"What now, Wally?" Frank sighed, mentally preparing himself for yet another diversion.

Wally's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "The way the sunlight hits just right, the magnificent refraction... Stay right there!"

With a flurry of activity, Wally scurried back into his house, the sounds of rummaging echoing through the air.

Frank stood there, in the yard awaiting Wally’s return. An overwhelming urge to flee consumed him, unsettled by the penetrating gaze of Home. The structure's expansive windows resembled a pair of watchful eyes, seeming to harbor an unspoken animosity towards him. Despite the pleasant weather, an icy shiver ran down Frank's spine, as if an unseen force sought to chill him to the core.

The small yellow puppet reemerged, clutching his easel and paints in hand.

"Oh, Wally, not today," Frank protested, his patience waning. The last thing he wanted was to prolong his time outdoors. His mental battery was running dangerously low.

Wally gazed up at him, a small pout forming on his face, his wide eyes brimming with pleading innocence.

"Please, Frank? From where you're standing, it'll be perfect! I really need to capture this moment. Pretty please?"

Damn you Barnaby for showing him the puppy dog eyes technique!

Frank groaned, realizing he couldn't resist Wally's persuasive powers. Reluctantly, he agreed to become Wally's temporary muse.

After an hour of painting, Wally excitedly presented his finished masterpiece to his grumpy friend.

Frank scrutinized the artwork. Well, he had to admit, it was impressive. Wally truly possessed a remarkable talent.

"It looks good. Can I leave now?" Frank inquired, eager to be on his way.

Wally nodded, his wide smile expanding even further. "Here! You can have it," he replied, handing Frank the completed painting.

Frank accepted the artwork and waved off Wally, who blew him a playful kiss.

"Goodbye, Frank! You truly are the most!" Wally exclaimed, leaving Frank to ponder the meaning behind such a peculiar compliment.

Finally free from the burdens of the day, Frank could finally retreat to the comfort of his own home. The remaining letters clutched in his tired hands were designated for himself and Eddie. As the sun began its descent, casting a serene dusk glow, Frank couldn't help but lament his failed attempt to finish his tasks before lunchtime.

He trudged wearily across the grass, his foot entangling in Julie's abandoned jump rope. Silently, he extricated himself from the snare and flung the rope back into her yard, too fatigued to bother voicing his annoyance.

Upon entering the house, Frank slipped off his shoes by the door, hung up Eddie's mailbag, and gently leaned Wally's painting against the wall, reminding himself to find the perfect spot for it later. He then made his way towards their bedroom.

The moment Eddie caught sight of his husband walking through the door, his face lit up with uncontainable joy.

"Heya, darlin’!" Eddie greeted, his arms extending eagerly for an embrace.

Frank mumbled a response, surrendering himself to Eddie's comforting embrace without a worry in the world about catching his husband's sickness in that fleeting moment.

"Rough day, huh?" Eddie inquired, his gentle touch soothingly caressing Frank's back. The grumpy puppet nestled into Eddie's embrace, finding solace and tranquility.

"Exhausting would be an understatement," Frank replied with raw honesty, living up to his namesake.

Eddie chuckled affectionately as he gently removed the mail hat from Frank's head, planting a tender kiss on top.

"I told ya it wouldn't be a walk in the park, bug."

Frank let out a groan, his voice muffled against Eddie's broad chest. Damn it all!

"When I regain my energy, I'm going to hang that idiotic mutt's head over my fireplace!" Frank grumbled, frustration evident in his tone.

Eddie erupted into hearty laughter at the notion, his mirth filling the room.

"Oh, so he chased after you, huh? I bet that wasn't a pleasant experience," Eddie remarked, his hands continuing their soothing motion on Frank's back.

"Him and the bees," Frank replied wearily.

"Bees?" Eddie's voice rose with surprise.

"A whole swarm," Frank confirmed, his exhaustion evident in his words.

Eddie chuckled once again, drawing his smaller husband even closer into a tight, affectionate embrace.

"I hate to say it, but..." Eddie started, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Please, don't..." Frank attempted to interject.

"I told you so!" Eddie gleefully sang, playfully mocking his weary spouse.