ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

19: I Can Safely Say That One of Us Grew Up

Frank was finally home, he had finally decided that he had to be considering it was just after ten at night. He had finished with Gerard at least a half-hour ago and took the slowest drive home in existence. But he couldn't prolong the inevitable anymore, he couldn't be out, he didn't have anything else to do. He walked into the house and shut the door, locking it behind him before he put his keys and wallet in the bowl. Frank looked around, seeing the house empty, and he sighed as he hoped Ryan would be in bed and asleep. Frank knew he was going to sleep on the sofa anyway, but the softer part of him had to at least go upstairs and make sure Ryan was breathing. Frank walked up the stairs one by one, realizing with each one just how tired he actually had become. He made it, begrudgingly, to the top of the landing and walked into their bedroom to see Ryan sitting on the bed. He sat in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed, still dressed from that afternoon. Frank blinked in surprise, "You're awake."

Ryan's tone was curt and guarded, "You're home."

"I am." Frank nodded as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up in the wardrobe.

"Late,"

"A lot to do." Frank sighed as he loosened his tie.

"I bet." Ryan folded his arms and Frank raised an eyebrow, turning to look at his boyfriend, who was staring him down icily.

"What's pissing in your cereal?" Frank asked as he kicked off his shoes and bent down to pull his socks from his feet. He threw them in the hamper and spun around again to see Ryan still looking sour, "What is it?"

"Are you fucking your boss, or not?" Ryan asked simply and Frank did a double-take, faltering in surprise at Ryan's blatant and ridiculous question. And at the crude language- Language of which Ryan was not usually a fan.

"I- You're kidding?" Frank scoffed. Ryan shrugged his shoulders coldly as he folded his arms, "You're genuinely calling me out on an affair with a Congressman of New Jersey?"

"Well..." Ryan narrowed his eyes, "It would make sense."

"'Make sense'?" Frank asked, bewildered as he unfastened his belt, "You do know that we're in a relationship, right? You and me... Or, have you been dissociated for over half a decade?"

"'Now' isn't the time for your sarcasm." Ryan said flippantly, "You're not saying 'no'."

"Because you're being ridiculous!" Frank scoffed, "I'm not fucking my boss."

"Then, what about the stuff he's given you?"

"Stuff I needed." Frank replied almost instantly, suddenly feeling repugnant towards his boyfriend, "Stuff I didn't have."

"Then, where have you been all week?"

"At work, Ryan." Frank pulled his belt from the loops and lay it down in the wardrobe in a tight coil, "Working with my boss on overtime so I can make more money."

"Or suck him off." Ryan scoffed.

"I wouldn't do that." Frank stated simply, hearing Ryan scoff again, "Mainly because I'm in a relationship, but I also don't want to embarrass myself because I'm out of practice with sucking dick."

"That's..." Ryan trailed off, "An unnecessary jab at me and you know it."

"Do I, though?" Frank asked with an eye roll, "You're being so dramatic. Nothing is going on."

"I don't believe you."

"No." Frank straightened up, getting angry now, "You don't trust me."

"I do." Ryan countered and Frank raised both hands in defeat before he turned and walked out of the bedroom to go and make coffee, "Don't you walk away from me."