Frank Woods x Reader

Forty-Five

There wasn't a lot you liked about Adler, but you had to give him one thing. If that man wanted something he was going miles to get it. It took him one call and about an hour later the entire team was gathered and transferred onto a ship in the middle of the ocean.

He was still pissed that Bell was gone, but his mood had softened a little and his usual soldier attitude had returned.

Chewing on a sandwich, you glanced up to the tower where he was standing, smoking a cigarette.

You shrugged and pushed the door open that led into the locker rooms.

Mason was already fully geared up as you walked in. He was helping Lazar squeeze into a new shirt while Sims checked all the guns.

You thought that it was rather questionable to take Lazar to Solovetsky.

It was more than likely that a fight would occur and he was more than badly injured. He had only been lucky thanks to Bell, who had payed with his life.

"You think you'll manage?", you asked and took a bite out of the sandwich.

It was a crappy, one dollar sandwich from a convenient store, but the first proper meal you had in a while. The slightly crusty mayo and that soaked, wobbly white bread tasted like heaven to you.

Mason gifted you an amused smirk, but it was obvious that his mind was somewhere else.

"You're already finished getting dressed?", he asked and pointed at the bulletproof vest that covered your chest.

Swallowing, you shook your head.

"Only Adler is insane enough to go into battle in jeans.", you joked. "I'll go change."

"Woods is still in the back.", Lazar said. "Don't bite."

You shrugged.

It was funny that everyone still expected the two of you to explode, despite the fact that you and him had said multiple times that things were settled. You didn't tell anyone yet that it was gravitating towards love again, but Mason seemed to get suspicious.

Maybe Woods had told him.

"Don't worry, I won't kill him.", you swallowed the last piece of sandwich. "Respect the elders and shit..."

A huff escaped the three men.

"Don't tell him that.", Sims advised.

"And if I do? What's he gonna do?"

Mason rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide the smirk on his face.

"You know he can get creative when it comes to annoying you.", he said with raised eyebrows. "Don't test his patience."

You let out a deep breath.

"Is he jittery?", you asked.

"You know Frank. He's itching for some war."

A soft laugh escaped you.

"Yes, I do know Frank...", you turned to walk towards the lockers in the back. "Don't worry... I'll be gentle with him."

Irritated that you used the old man's first name, Mason frowned. He knew it was special.

As you turned around the corner, Frank came into sight.

With his usual grim and annoyed expression, he struggled with a few belts and clippers of his gear.

With a soft smile on your lips, you leaned against the frame of the door and watched him for a while.

He really was handsome, you noticed and had to blush the next moment, feeling like you were about to jump him just because he was a good looking guy.

The way he looked was slightly different, but the years had made him age like fine wine.

Your eyes narrowed, a soft breath escaped your lips.

Alarmed by the sound, his head snapped around. But as his eyes caught yours, he relaxed and a sigh of relief escaped him.

"How long do you want to stand there and watch me struggle?", he asked in a joking tone and turned to you. "Give your husband a hand."

Shaking your head, you snorted.

"You're not my husband.", you laughed and stepped forward to fix his rolled in collar. "Not yet."

He smirked.

"I thought we wanted to take it slow?"

"We do, no?"

"Sure, mushroom. Anything you want."

"Music to my ears, Frank."

As his name left your lips, a slight hint of red appeared on his cheeks. His hands found your hips to rest on them.

You didn't react to it. Instead, your hands reached down to secure the belts and rearrange his gear so that he'd be able to be more comfortable.

For a moment, his eyes wandered over your face.

Neither of you said a word.

You had feared that after all this time, being alone with him again would either turn into fights or awkward silence.

But it wasn't either. This was a comfortable silence, a silence that enjoyed each other's company while being busy with your own tasks and thoughts.

It felt familiar and somehow also good to know that you still managed to enjoy each other's presence without directly interacting with it.

"You were staring at me...", he said after a while, looking down on you. "What were you thinking about?"

You chuckled.

"Do I need a reason to look at my man?", you asked and raised your gaze to meet his eyes.

The pale blue of his kissed your sparkling (E/C).

The feeling of burning heat rose to your cheeks.

"Your man?", he raised an eyebrow. "I thought I'm not your husband. So I'm not your man either."

Annoyed, you squeezed your eyes shut but couldn't hide the smile. He was such a pain in the ass and yet that was one of the things you loved about him so much.

"I was thinking that you'd look extra good in a suit.", you said and rested your hands on his chest. "A blue one."

The beating of his heart pressed into your palm. It felt like he was excited to be with yon again.

He tilted his head.

"I hate suits.", he pulled a face.

"I know. But one day you'll have to wear one to your wedding."

"To our wedding."

"Careful, we want to move slow."

He laughed, but was visibly displeased. His eyes broke free from yours for a moment.

"Do you... would you ever consider giving it another shot?", he asked, suddenly so unsure.

Your hand found his cheek to gently force him to look at you again.

"I'd be happy to find out. One day.", you kissed him softly.

He tasted so sweet.

Like a promise of tomorrow.

"(Y/N)...", he whispered against your lips. "One day..."