To Run with the Wolf Pack When Your Legs Are Tired

Three: Epilogue

Two years later

Frank has always been a light sleeper, ever since he was a boy. It's been both a blessing and a curse for him, really; on one hand, he's most often punctual and rarely lets sleep keep him away from his duties, no matter how often he'd like to catch just a bit more shut eye. But on the other hand, he can hardly sleep through any sort of disturbance.

Now is no different.

There's something pressed up against his back, warm and soft and sort of comforting, actually. But when Frank blinks himself awake, he notices it there, and is fairly sure that there was nothing or no one in the bed with him when he fell asleep. He wonders for a moment if it's Gunner or Belle, but dismisses the idea quickly. No matter how much Frank loves his dogs, the poor dears are not allowed indoors, even at night. Kitty would have a fit if she found out they'd been in the house, anyway. Plus, he does not seem to hear the telltale huffs or snores of the dogs.

Or maybe it's just Poppy, he thinks absently when he notices it. After all, Frank's quarters are closer to the girls' than their parents'; if they had nightmares, it'd be easier for them to crawl up into bed with Frank than it would for them to go all the way to Michael and Alicia's chambers. But they hardly did that anymore, especially after Lottie became less begrudging about letting her younger sister stay the night with her when she had nightmares.

But just in case it happens to actually be Poppy, or even Lottie, Frank rolls over in bed sleepily, noticing the moonlight still gleaming through the gap in the thick curtains of his bedroom window. It must still be nighttime.

There's a person lying next to him, staring at him with a wide, curious disposition. But it's not just any person, it's Gerard.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for waking you, my love," he whispers to Frank when he rolls over and sees Gerard there. It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of his lungs. Gerard is all he can focus on, all of the sudden, all he can think about. "I would have spent the night in my own room, but I was practically dead on my feet when I arrived and your room was closer to the entrance. Plus, I don't feel I would have been able to wait until the morning to see you." He smiles at Frank, who lets his eyes scan his lover's face for the first time in so, so long. He's not changed much, all things considered. He's still Frank's sweet, strange, beautiful Gerard. Except for the beard. His Gerard had a beard. Frank can hardly believe it.

"Come here, you idiot," Frank says fondly, scooting closer until he can wrap nearly his whole body around his love, who squeezes back with just as much joy and admiration. Frank nestles his head in the crook of Gerard's neck, right where it intersects with his shoulder, a bare patch of skin there just perfectly exposed by the collar of his tunic. He smells different, Frank notices, but it's only subtle. There's an added hint of something sharp and earthy to his skin, now. Frank presses his lips onto the pale flesh, and just leaves them there, savoring the moment and the way Gerard sighs into his hair.

They pull away from one another just long enough to kiss, passionate and full of love. Frank knows it, has known it forever, and is almost precisely sure Gerard knows it too and reciprocates greatly, but he's so hopelessly in love with the man that at times, the grief he felt over his lover's departure became all-encompassing. But now he's here, in Frank's arms, kissing Frank like he's Gerard's very life force. Right where he should be.

"I've missed you so," Frank manages to mutter between kisses, ones that grow hotter and more intense by the second. Gerard moans something of a pleased hum into Frank's mouth, making the shorter man all but vibrate with love, and a new emotion. Lust.

"I've missed you more than you could ever know, my dear." The words, though spoken by Gerard himself, seem to snap him into some sort of deep, depressed trance. He pulls away from Frank's hungry kisses, eliciting a displeased sort of sound from Frank. But he can't stay focused on either his displeasure or the now-frustrating hardness of his cock, not with the way Gerard is staring at him.