FOUR: Vanilla in Our Veins

8: What, Are You Going to Nip at My Ankles?

Frank had showered and dressed after cleaning their side of the house. He had walked across the upstairs hallway and knocked on the door wherein he heard music playing. He had opened it to find Josh strung up in Ty's shibari rig, crying quietly, and Ty had a dreamlike glaze in his dark eyes. He had informed them that Gerard would be home soon with lunch if they were hungry, and then he went downstairs, running like a puppy awaiting its owner. Now, here he sat, waiting for papa to come home, perched on the stairs. He hummed to himself under his breath as he fiddled with his toes, his chin on his knees, and his eyes unwavering from the big wooden front door.

Not five minutes later did he hear keys in the lock and the door opened, shining a bright beam of light from the white plains of snow that had the afternoon sun reflecting on its surface. He jumped up and scurried to the door, hopping to a standstill as Gerard entered, the light behind him casting an ethereal glow that made Frank's insides swirl. His mind flittered for just a moment, thinking intrinsically of the giant painting behind him where Apollo was bathed in the same sunlight. Gerard smiled at him warmly, carrying his chestnut-leather briefcase in one hand, and a plastic bag filled with food clutched in the other, his keys dangling from his ever-wandering pinkie finger. He shuffled forward and kicked the door closed with his foot, "Well, hello."

Frank immediately jumped in to assist his Master, taking his belongings from him carefully. He set Gerard's briefcase down by the coat rack where he stored it every day, and took the bag from him, lifting it up to give the contents a precursory sniff. He saw Gerard watching him with an amused smile and he couldn't help but grin, "Good afternoon, sir."

He set the food down carefully on the sideboard table and helped Gerard out of his coat, hanging the grey trenchcoat on the standing rack. watching his papa shake some snow from his auburn hair, "How was your morning, my boy?"

"It was good, sir. I did all my chores and baked some more cookies." Frank smiled proudly as Gerard removed his brown leather gloves and stuffed them in the pocket of the coat. Now that he had rid himself of his winter necessities, he turned his full attention to Frank, who was still waiting for some proper attention. He withheld the urge to giggle when Gerard gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, his lips lingering on the latter's skin as he took in his freshly-washed scent. Gerard hummed, "You may not smell like apple cinnamon anymore but you still have such a mouth-watering hold on me. I haven't figured out what it is yet, but if I ever do, I plan to bottle it."

Frank couldn't help the warmth that spread in his face and the strangled little noise that buffeted his throat. Gerard chuckled softly, "No witty retort this time? I'm surprised. I was expecting a Buffalo Bill reference at the very least."

Frank smiled, shrugging, "I dunno, sir, maybe I'm not feeling very cocky today."

"That explains the weather. Some people often say California is hell, and apparently, it's freezing over." Gerard eyed him playfully, "Since when are you so docile?"

Frank wrapped his arms around his Dominant, permission be damned, and closed his eyes as his head hit Gerard's chest. He let out a heavy breath that he felt he had been holding in all morning. Gerard put a hand on the back of Frank's head, cradling him gently, and seemed to accept the silence as Frank's only answer: he was glad to see him. Gerard tucked a finger under frank's chin after a minute of their embrace and tilted his head up, looking down at him with the same green gaze that Frank had been thinking about all day. He swallowed, his brain curious about whether or not Gerard would kiss him, but he was rewarded with the exact token he had sought. He closed his eyes, kissing back so gently as he tried not to melt into a puddle. He felt Gerard pull back and whisper against his lips, "I hope you didn't eat too many cookies and spoil your appetite, runt."