Frank scrubbed hard at the stain on the carpet in the living room, making soapy suds foam up on the floor. The stain had been there before, but he really wanted everything to look perfect. The dishes were all sparkling and stacked neatly, and all the towels and curtains had been washed, and the hard floors were spotless. This stain was the only thing left.
He decided to let the soap soak in a bit, hopefully work its magic on the old stain, and double-check the rest of the house while he waited. He fluffed a few throw pillows, straightened a winter coat on its hanger, and turned all of the coffee mugs so their handles were facing the same direction, and then returned to the living room.
He sighed down at the stain and sunk to his knees to blot up the soap and water. Gerard probably wouldn’t even notice. Frank still wanted everything to be perfect.
As he threw away the used paper towels, Frank glanced up at the clock and did a mental calculation of time zones and airport traffic jams. He estimated maybe half an hour. Time enough to take the trash out, light a candle or two in the bedroom, and get in position.
Frank stripped off his clothes once he was back inside, folding his jeans neatly in the closet and tossing his t-shirt into the laundry hamper, and went back out to the living room. He knelt down in the middle of the room, facing the front door, and crossed his wrists behind his back, settling into the position. The metal bracelets he always wore around his wrists clicked together and he was starting to think about the logistics of cuffing himself before Gerard got home when he was interrupted by his cell phone beeping.
It was the Gerard-specific beep, and Frank lifted his head, concerned. Gerard didn’t usually call or text before coming home. He liked to keep Frank a little uncertain; he liked Frank to be prepared. His phone beeped again, signaling a second text message, and Frank rose smoothly to his feet.
He hurried over to his phone and checked the messages. The first said, flight delayed. won’t be home until late. don’t wait up. And the second said, simply,miss you.
Frank didn’t bother replying. He sighed heavily and went around the house again to turn off all the lights. The steady flames of two candles greeted him in the bedroom, and he flopped down on the bed, face-first, so he wouldn’t have to see them. He wanted everything to be perfect.
He wasted a little bit of time reading by candlelight, but the dim, flickering glow made his eyes hurt and he gave up quickly. He set the book aside and blew out the candles, and then turned on his stomach, on top of the covers, and fumbled around in the dark for the little clips that hooked his bracelets to the bed frame. This, at least, could still be perfect for Gerard.
It was easy to slip into subspace with his arms cuffed and immobile, and the darkness surrounding his naked body, even without Gerard there to guide him. Frank wanted to stay awake until Gerard came home, but he had no idea how long that would be, and closing his eyes was altogether too tempting. Gerard had said not to wait up, anyway. That could even be considered a command.
Frank didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt a cold hand creep up the back of his thigh. He jolted awake, sucking in a breath that wasn’t quite a gasp, and blinked his eyes open, searching for Gerard.
“Don’t move,” Gerard said quietly. Frank relaxed again, rubbing his cheek contentedly on the pillow, and waited for Gerard to do something. “Fucking missed you,” Gerard continued, still stroking Frank’s thigh.
“Missed you too, sir,” Frank whispered.
“You waited for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Such a perfect boy,” Gerard said, and Frank smiled at the praise. “Nobody’s as perfect as you. If only they knew, Frankie, they’d be so jealous of me. But you’re mine, and nobody gets to have you like this except for me.”
