Prairie City Social Club

Roommates

Frank and Liv made a few discoveries over the coming months. Without the need to be sustainable, alcohol was easier to control. Liv wasn't filled with the existential dread of having a long life to plan for. Frank knew that he had a rehab bed waiting for him. Each of them found times in which they could have had a drink but they chose the other's company instead. Walks, making music together, just talking. Connection. They'd each heard, somewhere, that sobriety wasn't the opposite of addiction. The opposite of addiction, as it turned out, was connection. Neither Liv nor Frank had ever connected this deeply with another person. This reduced pressure and increased connection meant that, sometimes, Liv would have a single glass of wine with dinner or that Frank wouldn't have a bourbon next to him as they watched a movie together in the evening. They also learned that love is easier to accept when the threat of consequence is removed. Liv would die with her friend lovingly taking care of her. Frank was going to lose Liv regardless but at least, in this scenario, he got to love her closely for a while and when she closed her eyes for the last time, it'd be Frank holding her. She'd leave with Frank her hero, after long being his.

As close as they'd been and as much as they so clearly loved each other, when bedtime came, Liv always said goodnight to Frank, went into her room and gently closed the door behind her. Neither of them had planned to make this, or the prior, arrangement romantic but the drinks didn't help with the coming loss. They only acted to scratch an old, bothersome itch. This new stress needed a different drug if there was any comfort to be had. Liv's death looming over them was more than either could manage. There wasn't a drink in the world that could fix that. So, that night, only a few weeks from the end, Frank had an open-mind to suggestions. Similarly, when he had started toward the couch, where he had been sleeping, Liv had an open door. Frank walked over and knocked gently on the door frame. Liv sat up in her bed reading a book with covers halfway up her neck. She looked up. "Hey, you okay?" Frank probed. The apartment was quiet. The light cozy.

"I think we're going to need to update that agreement again," Liv playfully suggested as she motioned for Frank to come in.

Frank had always known that Liv was attractive. He wasn't blind. However, he also wasn't stupid and he valued their friendship. As such, Frank had long held a rule that he wouldn't think of Liv "that way." Short of a few minor, personal slips, Frank had kept this agreement with himself over the years. Liv was older now and was on her way to dying. She didn't think her age or illness had done her many favors in the looks department. Frank wasted no time "correcting" this error in judgment anytime Liv hinted at it around their, now, shared apartment. Liv was beautiful when she was young and she was beautiful now. Frank's love and appreciation for all things Liv was unshakeable. Liv took comfort in that as she peeled back the covers to let Frank into her bed. Frank's appreciation of what he saw beneath the blankets was undeniable.

"Sorry I didn't have anything more exciting to wear. I guessed you'd forgotten how to remove a bra anyway," Liv joked as Frank moved in for their first kiss from beside her.

"Very funny, Livvy," he replied, "if I were any more excited we'd be done already. Besides, you might not know this, but a lot of guys can work with that, 'come hither in your underpants' look," replied Frank, smiling. Like a lot. Their kisses flowed, one into another, as if they'd been doing this all along. Frank was pleased by how familiar kissing Liv felt but also by the temperature of her mouth. Liv's tongue was cold despite its activity and it was alerting in the best way. Liv was pleasantly surprised by how adept Frank was for a man who prided himself on being a recluse. As Liv's hand passed over and down Frank's shoulder, she noticed how strong he felt. It wasn't the perfect, calculated strength of a weightlifter but, instead, a very real strength gained over years working with tools, moving furniture and being outdoors. This strength felt authentically Frank and it suited him, and now Liv, just fine. Frank, still dressed in his house clothes, gasped as Liv's chilled hand made its way to, and then past, the waistband of his shorts.

"This isn't going to take long," Frank just barely voiced.

"I know where you live, Frank," Liv offered as a consolation.

"Thank God for that," Frank replied.

Liv had rolled on her side to continue kissing and caressing Frank. Their hands explored each other's bodies under the darkness of covers.

"What are you smiling about?" Liv said through, or possibly around, a kiss.

"I'm touching your butt, Livvy," Frank said as if he were a 13 year old boy who had just made it to 2nd base for the very first time.

"And?"

"I think my answer is in your hand," gasped Frank.

"That good?"

Liv threw her bare leg over Frank's mid-section and began to press her body firmly against his. Her hips and hand moved together, slowly at first with their movement increasing in intensity over the next few minutes. They were now breathing together. This sped as well, as if it all began and ended with Liv's hips. Her mouth continued to grow colder which might have been the only thing keeping Frank from bursting into flames at this point. Now at the height of their evening, Liv flung herself over and on top of Frank, dropped the blanket and made just a few more perfect thrusts as she sat up in full view of Frank. Cheeks flushed, they took a few large breaths as they looked into each other's eyes. Liv lay back down on top of Frank as he pulled the blanket back over them. Neither moved until morning.