I Didn't Mean to Fall in Love (But I Did)

Frank Makes A Date

Tuesday morning and Frank's sinuses have all but cleared up, though he's still sneezing. He's not as disoriented anymore though, so his job is infinitely easier than it had been yesterday.

He's trying to wipe off the front counter, and also trying not to start humming, because he gets yelled at by his coworkers whenever he hums. It's not like he tries to, but apparently he's very loud and obnoxious, and also it's hard to get the harmonies and guitar riffs with just one's vocal chords.

He hears his name and looks behind him again to see who wants to complain about what he's doing now, but no one behind him seems to have said anything.

"Frank!" the voice says again, and he's fairly sure he recognizes that voice.

He looks around the place, and then up where directs his vision to the front door.

Frank's heart stops for a moment, and he thinks that he must not have woken up this morning, because he's bound to be dreaming. This realization saddens him because that means his last five hours of work weren't real, and he's not going to get paid for them.

Aaron is standing near the entrance to the diner, similarly dressed, but a little more lax today. He's prettier than Frank remembered. Frank throws the rag he was using onto the counter and then pinches himself. He smiles when he realizes that he's not dreaming.

Frank tries to step closer to the counter, and apparently multi-tasking is not his forte today.

"Oh god, Aaron," Frank says before promptly tripping and falling to the floor. He ends up on the ground with his legs in front of him, accompanied by a rather large thump. He wishes the ground would just suck him up and let him die, so that he doesn't have to face the embarrassment of the fact that he just totally made a fool of himself.

One of Frank's coworkers, a waitress who's been there longer than even he has, walks over to him, trying not to laugh. She offers him a hand, and Frank takes it shamefully. He tries to recover himself before he stands up, and looks at Aaron. He stands up facing the other way, brushes himself off, takes a deep breath, and then turns.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I'm dying a little bit inside," Frank says. Aaron is looking at him in that 'oh god I want to laugh, but it would be rude to laugh' sort of way and Frank doesn't even blame him. He's such a complete ditz, and it's because of Aaron that it happened.

"No please, go ahead. I know you want to laugh at me, get it out of your system," Frank says. Franks standing near the counter, almost leaning against it. Aaron is a few feet back from the counter and he bites his lip.

"No sorry. That would be rude," he says, but he's grinning widely.

"I come off like a lunatic to you. I really don't do this ever. I don't almost die and fall over a bunch," Frank tries to say.

"So I'm special?" he asks, and Frank's blush grows. He looks down and grabs at his apron with shaking hands, trying to rub the sweat off of them.

"At least you weren't holding plates or something, you'd have broken them," Aaron says.

Frank nods and clears his throat, "yeah. You're, uh, totally right. That would've been so much messier."

Aaron nods, "and we wouldn't want to have you even redder than you are now would we?"

"Oh god, I probably look like a fucking tomato," Frank says, "It's not like I woke up this morning, and thought to myself that I should make an attempt to make an even bigger idiot of myself in front of the French guy who saved my life yesterday. Thanks for that by the way."

"Oh no, are you going to do that again?"

Frank freezes, "shit, oh god. You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."