ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

5: That Just Sounds Messy

Frank was sitting in the kitchen at the small table with his elbows on the wooden surface. His hands were steepled in front of his face and he stared wide-eyed at the tin of whipped cream as though he were in a stand-off. Ryan had already gone upstairs, likely already having showered and gotten into bed. And probably reading, too. Ryan was probably wondering where he was, considering just how fresh Frank had gotten with him earlier. He sighed nervously and got up, grabbing the can from the table as he passed by. He walked up the stairs slowly, his heart racing in his chest.

"Are you coming to bed?" Ryan called out as Frank got to the landing and stood there for a moment, staring at the bedroom door. Frank walked into the room and stood at the doorway, smiling when he saw Ryan sitting up in bed with his book in his lap. Ryan folded the corner of the page and set the book down on his bedside table.

"I'm coming, don't you worry," Frank told him as he walked over to his side of the bed and sat down before he carefully set the tin down on the floor. He added with a throat clear, "At least I hope I'm gonna be coming."

"You're disgusting." Ryan screwed up his nose at Frank, who couldn't help but giggle at Ryan's face as he got into bed and slid under the covers. Ryan reached over to his lamp and switched it off, plunging them into darkness except for the dim light coming from the bathroom, "Why do you have to be so crude?"

"Dude, what?" Frank shrugged like he hadn't done anything wrong, "I'm just fooling around... Like I hope we're gonna be."

"You're insatiable," Ryan shook his head, "Is that all you think about?"

"Not all the time, no." Frank admitted, even though he knew he did end up thinking about it a lot. Wanting it. Missing it. He eyed his boyfriend, "So... Are you saying 'no' now?"

Frank hoped that Ryan hadn't changed his mind. It had been something that had played on his mind for most of the evening, looking forward to it because sex twice in one week, more rare than Ryan with a beard.

"What do you think?" Ryan asked as he gave Frank a suggestive glance that was more than enough of an answer. Frank smiled at him, turning before he twisted in the bed to face Ryan, he cupped Ryan's cheek and pulled him closer. Their lips met in a tender kiss into which Ryan instantly melted. Frank adjusted on the bed, pulling himself even closer to Ryan, sliding his other hand around him, resting it on the small of his back. His hand slipped under the fabric, wanting to get rid of the item of clothing. Ryan got the hint, moving along with Frank, fingers going for the buttons on his silk pajama shirt. Their kiss broke for a second. Frank tugged his t-shirt over his head, pulling it off as quickly as possible, not caring about where it landed on the floor when he threw it to one side. Ryan however was a little more careful with his shirt. Frank groaned when he went to fold his shirt up, "Are you being serious? Just put it on the floor."

"But I'm gonna put it back on."

Frank wasn't having it in the slightest; he rolled his eyes at the back of Ryan's head before he grabbed the shirt and tossed it to the floor. Ryan went to protest, and the way his eyes darted, it looked like he was considering getting up to pick it up and put it away. Frank had other things on his mind that were far more important than a crumpled shirt.

Ryan genuinely looked like he was going to get up but Frank decidedly distracted him with a heated kiss. Frank gently pushed Ryan over and hovered above him. Ryan whimpered as the weight, reacting to the way Frank rolled his hips down against him. The friction making heat bubble in the pit of his stomach. Ryan's hands held onto Frank's back, nails digging into the skin, scratching, the small action making Frank groan into the kiss. Frank propped himself up, looking down at Ryan, taking him in in the low light that was coming from the bathroom.