ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

48: Your Sarcasm is Intensely Unappreciated, Sir

Frank let out a small groan as he ambled through the front door of his home that evening, whining unhappily as Gerard guided him into the living room. He set the meek submissive down gingerly on the sofa and perched himself next to Frank to look him over.

"You look peaked." Gerard commented in a soft whisper as he put his hand on Frank's forehead, "And you feel warm."

"I feel awful." Frank groaned unhappily, "Stupid exercise. My whole body hurts, sir."

"I doubt it was entirely the exercise at fault. I also think it was your impromptu dip in that nuclear waste this morning. You probably have a virus brewing." Gerard muttered as he got up. Frank yelped unhappily and wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist, whining pitifully as he clung on, "Relax, dear boy. I'm going to make you some tea. Come on now."

Frank grumbled as he let go, flopping down onto the sofa as he bundled himself into Gerard's coat that had been draped around his shoulders. He heard Gerard busying himself in the kitchen and the faint grow of the rolling boil in the kettle. He glanced up when black pants came into view and saw his Master looking down at him with amused concern, "You really become rather needy when you're sick, don't you?"

"Am not." Frank replied thickly, "I'm a fuckin' warrior. I'm a big boy."

"If you are indeed such a big boy," Gerard slid his hands into his pockets, "Then I suppose you're okay with tending to yourself and sleeping in your own bed tonight?"

"I-" Frank paused, "I'm less of a big boy."

"While you ruminate on that," Gerard helped his submissive up into a sitting position, "I thought perhaps you'd like to know that I wanted to continue your training. But I can see that you're under the weather."

Frank perked up and looked at his Master with steadily growing intrigue and watched him walk back into the kitchen, "Training?"

"Nothing too strenuous, I don't want to exacerbate whatever virus is train-hopping through your system like a vagrant." Gerard smiled as he poured the scalding water into a mug, steeping the teabag slowly, "But if you're too sick..."

"I'm okay." Frank offered in earnest as he took the mug from his Master, inhaling the comforting chamomile scent that wafted through the steam. He took a small sip, humming as it warmed his throat, "What training would it be, sir?"

"Some bonding between us." Gerard commented, "Me getting to know your physical limits a little more in terms of your pain threshold."

"I see." Frank muttered, taking another sip, "I won't say 'no'. I trust your judgment. If you think I can handle it if I have a cold, then I know it's okay."

"Your trust in me is heartwarming, Frank." Gerard squeezed his submissive's knee and looked at him, "Only if you feel up to it."

"I am, sir." Frank nodded, and Gerard unfastened his tie, looking down at Frank as he took a sip of tea.

"You finish that and then meet me in the playroom, understand?" Gerard shrugged his suit jacket from his shoulders and folded it over his arm delicately, "Don't burn your tongue. That's my job."

Frank smiled sheepishly as he watched Gerard turn and ascend the stairs, disappearing from view as he went into the hallway. Frank clutched his mug in both hands and looked down at his socks, curling his toes in the shag carpet.

Once Frank had drained the last of his tea and had put the cup in the sink, he hung Gerard's coat on the hook by the door before he slowly traipsed up the stairs. He looked at the entrance to the playroom that was ajar, and he could see the red and warm-white light reflecting on the polished wood floor. He peered into the room, and he saw Gerard staring at him with the slightest smirk when they locked eyes.