M


Laney knew he was still irritated with her.

There had been the dinner itself. After Clinton had shown up unexpectedly, the rest of Frank’s family had arrived and they had had plenty to talk about. If not all of it had been dinner table safe… Laney had tried. She had tried to be a good girlfriend and host-by-proxy, had tried to help Akiva and Clinton’s dating lives (simultaneously), and had made sweet jokes about her boyfriend’s appetite.

She was still a little worried about what his parents thought of her. They had been nice, even if she wasn’t what they had expected, but his father’s surprise and whatever was going in his mother’s head had made her squeeze Frank’s hand a little too hard, or offer up conversation points a little too quickly. Molly had been sweet, but Laney knew that she wasn’t what she’d anticipated, either. At least she and Isabelle had got on swimmingly.

With one awkward hitch. It wasn’t Laney’s fault that Frank hadn’t locked his bedroom door, or that he’d felt like eating extra dessert that night. Who was she to complain about either of those small facts? Exhibitionism and Frank’s caring nature were two of her favorite things. And so when Isabelle had popped in, only to find Laney, seemingly alone, with several moving shapes beneath the sheets, the seeker hadn’t immediately alerted her surprise, hidden bedfellow. To be fair, she had been concentrating on other things, her eyes rolled back rather than pointed at the door.

When she had noticed… well, she had smiled a friendly, too-welcoming smile and given Frank a gentle squeeze as she bent over the sheet. The awkward, muffled goodnight he had offered his sister, and the grin that had subsequently widened on Laney’s face above the covers, had probably been enough for Isabelle to keep it in her memory forever. And want to wash it out. Especially with the accompanying… soundtrack. (Quiet and classy, because they’d had house guests).

But the part that had upset him the most, she knew, was what had happened at breakfast. The rest had been easy enough to laugh about in bed when they’d woken… but breakfast itself had been uncomfortable at best.

Laney was feeling guilty about it now. At the time, it had simply left her mouth before she could think— even if if they had discussed, beforehand, how he didn’t want to dwell on his personal life. She couldn’t help it: she was so used to joking with him about it, so used to knowing that she hadn’t thought as she’d made a joke about bacon and direwolves, then made it quite obvious that Frank was one.

When they had left, she had tried to laugh it off, to explain how exhausted he’d left her… how his sister had walked in and made them even more tired… but she could tell that it wasn’t something he wanted to laugh about.

Now here they were, the next morning, and Laney was trying again to tempt him into smiling about it. Even if she knew better. A new day, more optimism.

“Hey,” she said, soft against his back, her eyes wide and watching him, her hand moving to his arm. She bit her lip tentatively. After a moment, her face relaxed, eyes went heavy, and she nuzzled into him further, absorbing his warmth. “Do you want me to bring you breakfast?” She tempted. “In bed.”

Slowly, she sat up a little, peaking over his shoulder, looking down at his face. “This time all the bacon will be cooked properly…”

Frank closed his eyes and stayed still, his arms wrapped around his pillow while laying stretched out on his side of the bed. A leg was hooked around the blanket, furthest from her, attempting to keep him cool. He finally opened his eyes and stared at the wall again, frowning at her question. If he bristled when she wrapped herself around him, he didn’t move away from it.

He had told his mum that he’d gotten mixed up in some legal issues. That he’d been arrested and had been trying to follow probation to keep himself out. Katherine Pratt was a patient woman; she also worried about her children, even those that were solely her husband’s. If she had a soft spot for Molly, it was nothing compared to her senseless son and wild-and-free daughter. Frank understood that when he’d told her that much, she had been disappointed and anxious.

His father, on the other hand, had little to say about it. Other than to say that Frank had better turn himself around and be a better role model for his little sister. He didn’t understand how Molly could have a seemingly normal life, but his only son was some... softened librarian. Then he’d met Laney, and he’d... been pleasantly surprised. Maybe his son wasn’t so soft after all. If he’d been quiet during the evening meal, it was because he usually was a man of few words. Daniel preferred to watch than be a part of it all.

Isabelle was her own little whirlwind of ridiculousness. Whereas it was a big deal that Frank had this arrest record in the wizarding world that they knew so little about (since Daniel had never liked it to begin with), the fact that Izzy had a few minor marks on her juvenile record was nothing. She was ‘living life,’ as she put it. Experiencing everything so when she got to be old, she would be content.

The meeting of the family and Laney had gone better than he’d expected. They had all (mostly) had a little too much to drink and stayed up way too late. Casper and Molly and seemed almost too giddy to not be spending the night, in Frank’s opinion, but had welcomed the remaining dessert with opened arms. If he’d then tried to capitalize on all the goodies he thought he could have, used to having his time uninterrupted in the bedroom, Frank had been slightly mortified under the sheet when his sister had wandered in.

He had been all too grateful that Izzy had actually been embarrassed after he said good night to not stick around and make jokes. If he’d gone right back to what he was doing with a renewed fervor, it was because he knew the quicker he was done, the less likely they were to be bothered again.

The following morning had been full of left over dessert and too much breakfast. His mum had woken up and cleaned up the kitchen before fixing eggs, potatoes, and bacon. He helped out with making fresh tea and coffee, all the while teasing Isabelle with innuendos that flew right over their parents head. Frank had been stuffing his face of the bacon when Laney had let the entirety of his secret out.

They had all looked at Laney as if the word Direwolf was the weirdest sounding thing they had ever heard. Frank had nearly choked, having to fight with the bite that had lodged itself into the wrong pipe, fighting for air as Laney dug him deeper.

Now it was out there, and his family knew what he was. Or they had an idea; it was all very hard to piece together, a mythical creature sitting across the table from them. His mum had been rather visibly upset, and his father had left the house. Only his sister had seemed calm about the situation; she had noticed how much hairier Frank seemed to be, and it made a little sense. She wanted to see him when the full moon hit.

It took a lot more than breakfast to calm everyone down. It had taken until lunch time to fully explain what Frank... still didn’t completely understand about himself. His family had left, finally, and Frank had refused to talk to Laney as he cleaned up the house. Then he had yelled and threw his arms around and then went sullen for most of the night.

His jaw tightened before he tilted his head to look up at her. He shifted until he was laying on his side, back to her, rubbing his eyes. “You would probably burn it.” He threw the sheet back and sat on the edge of the bed, fixing his boxers before he rested his head in his hands. Finally he reached out for the cigarettes on the bedside table, stretching as he stood up and wandered to the window. After cracking it open, he lit up the first cig of the day, letting the breath of smoke out into the morning haze.

When the fight had begun yesterday, Laney had argued back, fiercely, and then softly, and then fiercely, and then with stubborn 'I’m going to keep bothering you until you give in’ resolution. He had gone back to quiet, and she had waited up with him, not wanting to be the first to stalk off to bed, not wanting to be alone, or to give him the satisfaction. She had stared, like a child, arms crossed, waiting for him to be the first one to blink. Her plan was to keep apologizing until he broke and forgave her.

But that had certainly not happened last night. When he had reverted to not speaking to her, in the dark of the bedroom, she had spent hours awake, staring out the window, her back to his. In the early hours of dawn, she had turned toward his presumably sleeping figure, tried to ease back into their normal morning routine. (Well, some bits of it. Baby steps, she knew, as she cuddled into him.) She had hoped a night’s sleep might make him come around, especially because he was Frank, the less likely of the two to hold a grudge. But she would be lying if she’d said last night's sleep had been restful.

Frank did not seem to be buying it now, either, at least not the offer of breakfast. Laney flinched a little, at his comment, which sounded both tired and as irritated as he’d sounded yesterday.

She sat up in his spot, bringing her knees up to her chest and looking down at the impression he’d left in the sheets before looking at him.

“I wouldn’t… I’ve made bacon a thousand times.” Had he forgotten bacon sandwiches were her go-to for picnics? If he usually helped her… well… “Crispy bacon is delicious, anyway,” she added, sitting up on her knees and then climbing out of the bed.

She wandered toward the window, willing the apprehension from her face, even if he was busy staring out into the morning. Standing behind him, and a little to his left, she stopped just short of touching him. “I’m sorry,” she said, truthfully, if quietly. She had already told him a half dozen times, and it wasn’t easy to get apologies out of Laney. “It slipped out, I’m so used to you being… you. Around me.” She frowned a little at his back before taking another step closer so that they were nearly standing side by side. “They’re your parents. They have to put up with you however you are.” She meant it in a nice way; it was a brief summary of her own relationship with her family. In part. They didn’t exactly accept Laney’s… everything. And she had only become progressively less acceptable in the past year, in which she’d begun to shed a few prejudices and replace them with affection for a muggleborn direwolf. But her father didn’t know about that.

“Stop being a moody girl,” she said, but sweetly. She chanced putting a hand on his forearm. The smell of smoke was comforting, even if Laney knew she was pushing it with the apologies and touching him.

Frank had been both irritated and impressed (grudgingly) at how strong Laney’s resolve had been the night before. And still into the morning. He had tried to ignore her with books and music and playing with Marko, but eventually he’d grown so tired that he’d just gone to bed. And so had she. If he had tossed and turned and acted like a baby with her within a hands reach, he had finally settled down and passed out.

Now they were still going at it. Or Frank was continuing it, anyway. It wasn’t as if he had much reason to be angry, other than the fact that now his entire immediate family knew what he had been trying to keep from them. The illusion was gone. They now knew how much of a monster he really was. He had been scared to tell them... and Laney had opened the can of dog food like it was nothing.

Which... if he had been honest from the start, like he usually was, it would have been nothing. It was obviously harder to keep the truth from those who could get their hands on a Daily Prophet, especially after... his name had been released.

Maybe he was just irritated that for once, Laney had been more right about something. Even if she’d been joking and poking/prodding him. His father’s reaction had been typical. And... well, all of them, he supposed. How hard was it to swallow the idea that your son became a hungry, angry beast once a month? The fact he had kept it from them for so long had also added insult to injury.

To be fair to Frank, he couldn’t imagine being so honest with his mum that he told her how he’d killed people with his bare werewolf hands and teeth. Because the worst part of it was that he remembered doing it and it excited some part of him. Which turned his stomach and made him even angrier that he had to think about it again.

He took another deep breath and held it instead of getting into a catty argument over whether she cooked bacon well or not. He loved her bacon sandwiches. That wasn’t the point, really, not... right then. His lips twitched and he frowned harder to keep his resolve. Frank heard the bed springs shift, the floor boards creak, and could feel her closer as he focused on the world outside. His world, when the full moon wasn’t up.

Another drag on the cigarette was his initial response to her apology. Frank wondered if he should’ve kept track of how often that phrase had come out of her mouth in the last few hours. The smoke was slowly escaping his lips as he breathed out. He sucked his lips in between his teeth and mulled her words over, the cigarette hovering in the air.

“Stop being a moody girl.”

His eyes widened as he looked at her, suddenly, mouth open in surprise. He stood there quietly for a moment before finally offering the cigarette to her (after grabbing another hit off of it). Frank blew the smoke at her before the smile finally slipped out, unexpectedly, and he quickly tried to hide it behind another frown. Frank looked back out the window and crossed his arms over his chest, considering what he could say that he hadn’t said already.

“I know it’s partly my fault. For keeping it from them. I just... didn’t want to deal with it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, holding on to the back of his head as he interlocked his fingers. “It’s something... terrible to have to tell your mum you’re a part-time scary beast that she didn’t realize really existed.” He shook his head and looked at her. "Don't you think about that? About how... you're just being stupid being with a direwolf?"

At first, she felt frustrated, even as she stood there trying to butter him up, to be mellow and understanding and win his forgiveness. There weren’t very many people in the world for whom the seeker would try so hard. Usually it was she looking for an apology, or else stomping off and throwing hexes and hand gestures behind her (not that Frank hadn’t seen that side).

But then there seemed to be a little crack in his facade. At first, she braced herself for another argument (which she almost would have relished, if it meant something more impassioned than not speaking to each other), but then he offered the symbolic token of their relationship: Laney took up the cigarette, delighted on the inside, and took a much-needed drag. The smoke he blew at her earned a semi-unimpressed look, but also a smile… which widened at his, her teeth visible, dimples obvious now. She breathed it in, and there was something comforting in it, the air they shared. Even if he reverted to his previous stance, it was enough.

Laney knew it was a lot to deal with. And she could see it in him, as he stood there. But she also knew he was way too hard on himself and made himself sound much worse than he was; he wasn’t one of those Death Eater style wolves who went hunting for fun. He’d done all of the responsible things he was supposed to, dealing with a Ministry who did not deserve as much respect as they received. She made light of it, his affliction, because it was the easiest thing to do, and there was a part of her that loved the danger in the idea. She knew she probably needed to tell him more often, more seriously, just what a good person he was. How much of a monster he wasn’t.

“But it’s not like you’re a real, hard criminal,” she pointed out, somehow lovingly insulting him in the process, making it sound as almost as if he were too safe. But she meant it in a good way. “You don’t kill kids or hex old ladies in the street. I’m sure your mum can deal with you being fuzzy and having a time of month…”

She knew, though, it was easier said than done. And yet, if muggles were nervous about things like werewolves existing, they did not necessarily have the same sorts of prejudices as those with wands.

“Do you think you’re just being stupid, being with a girl who burns bacon?” She asked, throwing his question back at him. If she was a little more wounded by the point he’d made earlier, stormy and grumbling, it was not simply about bacon. She had wondered, a little bit, whether his family’s reaction to her might have been layered, whether Frank read something in it, whether it was dawning on him that their relationship was not like his very-much-put-together older sister’s.

But then how he saw himself and how she saw him were entirely different. Frank was worried he was a monster, Laney that she was too wild for anyone’s parents.

“I’m not stupid,” she assured him, sounding suddenly very bossy after she took another drag. She let out the smoke, looking down and back up. “Do you think I’m stupid?” She handed back the cigarette. “I’m probably not what your mum expected, though.” She smiled a little.

“If your sister can get over walking in on you having a midnight snack, your dad will come around to the wolf thing,” she encouraged, bumping into him a little more.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek as he considered her words, eyebrows drawn together in a slight frown. What did it take for Laney to consider someone a real, hard criminal? Then she went on to explain herself and he half shrugged. It was a little more complicated than how she put it, but he didn’t have to go into details with his mum. She didn’t need to know everything he’d done.

If she wanted to see the DP article... Frank had that somewhere. But he wasn’t going to force it on her. His family had left feeling a whole new... thing about Frank. He had wanted to leave some of the people he loved in the dark. Maybe that wasn’t his decision: it wasn’t now. It still took some time for him to swallow.

“I might be.” He couldn’t help the half smirk that slipped out. Burning bacon seemed like a sin. Then again, he didn’t mind it raw now, either. Frank was teasing, however, and figured his tone and expression said as much. Now he wanted a bacon sandwich; Frank wondered if she was still up for her offer of breakfast. Judging by the sun, it was still considered that time of day.

He sighed and glanced briefly at her. “I didn’t say you were stupid. Just that you were being stupid. There’s a difference.” Frank shook his head and accepted the cigarette before looking back outside. “I know you’re not stupid.” He took an inhale and let it hang on the edge of his lips, the smoke slipping out his nostrils as he admired the yard, watching Marko lounge in the sunlight.

The first home improvement he had made was a doggy door. It left him to rest when the dog had to go. Left them to rest. He chuckled and took another drag before knocking ash off out the window. “You are most assuredly not what my mum expected, but I think she likes seeing me happy. And generally... you make me happy.”

Until she brought up embarrassing incidences. He was going to give the cigarette back, but he decided he was going to keep it. One hand put it back between his lips while the other scratched, rolling his eyes. “How about you have breakfast before you make me a bacon sandwich.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her, hands resting on his hips as he watched her.

M for suggestive things


Laney raised her brows, then knitted them together a little, mild concern and a bit of a pout taking residence on her face. She knew he was joking, but he still deserved the look.

“I’m not being stupid. I know what I want, and it’s worked out so far.” She gave him another look, this one suggesting he knew she was right and couldn’t say otherwise. “Except when you insult my cooking skills.” She took another breath of him, following his eyes to the yard, to Marko. The dog didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Frank was perfectly human by comparison: worrying, irritated in the way people could so easily be. Laney could see it written all over him, his humanity, as plain as the titles on the shelves all over the room. He was as stubborn as she was, just in a different way. His manifested in guilt.

Laney began to lean into the window sill, take him in more properly, now that he wasn’t grumbling at her. Her smile reappeared as he admitted she made him happy. She felt her heart jump a little. She was breaking him. “So you think she’ll invite me to any family holidays?” She asked, biting her lip in the smile now. But then it dawned on her, what she’d really sad, and she straightened a little, shifting her legs, crossing her ankles. “I mean if they’re having a party.” Even after having admitted her feelings to him— albeit in a moment of exhaustion— it was still a little daunting, to talk about their relationship at such an established level.

Laney’s eyes followed the cigarette back to his lips, lingered there. That teasing cigarette. And he wasn’t even sharing now. Then she heard his question, and they glanced up fast. She stared at him, conveying some silent language and nothing at all in their exchanged stares. A chill ran up her spine. He had been irritated at her night and day, they had gone to bed facing opposite walls, and now he suddenly seemed to want her. It was heady, in a good way.

She slowly pushed away from the sill, looking his face over again. Even as her eyes stayed on his, she began to sink down to her knees, hands finding the ground to needlessly balance herself and then splaying wholesomely. She stared at him for a moment, just like that, then sat up a little more, thighs extending, and her hands come up, too, as her eyes moved down. They went for the band of his boxers, but didn’t grab it, not quite. Fingers lingered there, almost touching as Laney locked her eyes on his again. She wanted the cigarette, bad, but there were things she wanted more. “Are you stupid for dating someone who sucks at breakfast like I do?"

If by worked out, she meant they were currently together, then that was true. All the trials they had been through up until then, however, had been trying for any sane person. Luckily she was a little crazy. And in his own way, so was Frank. He looked her over briefly before hiding a yawn behind his hand. Coffee would be good to go with his bacon sandwich, he was deciding. Caffeine would really hit the spot if he was going to keep up this argument.

It was harder to keep his irritation up with her in full view. His eyes roamed down over her, lips parting as he took in her sleep attire. Frank felt that he was entitled to feel both lust and irritation at the same time. It wasn’t the easiest combination of emotions, but... it worked in this situation. Talking about his family helped keep him in line, and his eyes snapped back up from her panties.

Eyes narrowed before he shrugged, glancing past her to the yard. “Oh, sure. You mean, if I get invited. You might have messed that up, now.” Not that he thought he was in danger of being completely cut off from family events. Just maybe from hosting them. The thought was both relaxing (because it was a little stressful, being in control of everything and hosting) and frustrating. It was nice to act like an adult now and again.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her for long.

They followed her down as she lowered herself, the cigarette burning almost unforgotten at the corner of his lips. Her question made his eyebrows jump up, a laugh escaping before he coughed on the cigarette smoke a little. With a last inhale, he ground it out in the tray on the window sill, leaning over just slightly to do it. Frank blew the smoke out the window as he stood back up. “Yes. It makes you more irresistible, even when you piss me off.”

Frank smirked and cocked an eyebrow as he pushed the material out of her way. “Let’s see how good you are at breakfast, Lorraine.”

If she’d gained some space to break him down, and if she was well aware of his eyes, Laney rolled her eyes as he blamed her for being shunned by his family. “They’re not going to not invite you. Like you said, your mum wants you to be happy.” He couldn’t argue with that logic. “They were going to find out eventually…” Another effort to tempt him to forgive her.

Or they could stall on that, and find common ground.

His next comment only added to Laney’s own desire. There was a part of her that fed on the energy of tension and bickering. There was another part of her that loved when Frank made plain what he wanted. She might be bossy in every other aspect of life— and even now, teasing him, waiting for answer. But. She liked this side of him.

Her eyes said a silent goodbye to the cigarette, but it was brief. They were now mostly consumed with him, his face, his suggestion, what was directly before her. The syllables of her proper name, the one that was so ill-suited and yet perfect in the moment, stung at her skin in a good way, brought almost a flush of something besides anger to her face. Frank did a good portion of the initial work for her, not giving Laney a chance to continue to leave him hanging.

Initiated softly, a mere half second after her eyes left his, it was teasing start, just a taste, something of a promise. Laney took her time, gave all of him well-earned attention in a slow, lingering excursion, her eyes almost closed, hands languid in their supporting role. But after a few minutes of a show that might have been shy if it were not for the skill and intention, she looked up again— obviously, at this point, unable to speak— and the meaning there was obvious. That that was just a start.

But after a moment, she did pull away, lips pressing together then parting as her mouth relaxed for a moment. “I hope I’m still pissing you off.” Things began to change pace. Her eyes were stuck on his as she started again.

The laboriousness of their fun was becoming obvious on Laney’s face, which was glowing a bit, last night’s makeup long forgotten. There was a shamelessness and pride in it.

Frank knew he’d be invited; his family was too nice not to. Even his father, as insufferable as he could be at times. Now he would worry he was some sort of burden to them. Or he would for a little while, anyway. He scratched his head and sighed, wondering how they would’ve found out eventually. Molly had been pretty good about keeping it to herself. Not that she... well. She wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, perhaps.

But if it had never come up, it wouldn’t have ever, right?

He enjoyed pushing her limits, knowing her full name was one of those. Used in the right context without overuse, it was very powerful. Or so it seemed, based off her facial expression. A groan of finally escaped him as he let his hips press forward more, watching her once his eyes didn’t feel so heavy. It was harder standing, to have to keep his balance and enough blood going to realize that letting his knees give out would end up badly.

His mouth was open and he let his head lean back for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Then her words hit him and he laughed, looking down. For good measure, a hand rested on the back of her head to help. “Try harder...” He stared down at her, eyes locked as he helped with her rhythm. While his hand kept her head where it should be, the other lifted and wiped some of the running mascara away.

It was always impressive, Laney’s resolve. Frank stopped them long enough to shift so he was sitting on the edge of the desk that sat near the window, legs perched on either side of her as he helped her get back to her meal.

Once he was able to relax more, it wasn’t nearly as long as it would’ve been. He warned her the end was near but didn’t take his hand away; it was easy to bat away if she wanted it, of course, but... if she didn’t, he would keep playing along. And it was always fun to see how long until she couldn’t anymore. The sounds weren’t necessarily a huge turn on, but that ruined makeup and the way she looked at him... It brought him closer quick.

When he was finally spent, his hand resting on her upper back while Frank slumped forward a little, he grinned. “Bloody hell...” He fought to catch his breath, his thumbs moving under her eyes gently to wipe away the black. Leaning down, he kissed her, not minding the sweat that mingled with her tongue before he finally pulled back. Once his boxers were situated, he stood up and offered her a hand. “Bacon sandwich, thank you.” His hand smacked her lower backside as his eyebrow jumped. She definitely seemed sorry.

Only encouraged by his hand, Laney powered through the task at… not-her-hand… making herself quite at home on the floor in front of the desk. When it came to an end, she took a moment to bask in it and enjoy Frank’s reaction, then (finally) opened her mouth in a smile, despite the temporary signs of exhaustion and dishevelment on her face. It was the victory, really, that was noticeable. She let Frank wipe her eyes, waiting patiently, trusting that he would do a decent enough job, but not really caring.

She pressed up into his kiss, an arm momentarily coming around his neck much more sweetly than anything that happened since they’d climbed out of bed for a smoke break. As he pulled away, she sighed tiredly but satisfied, and took his hand, leaning into him and this time using both of her arms for balance around him. She smiled at the playful… gesture. “Yes, sir, coming up. Not burnt,” she proclaimed enticingly. She leaned in for another kiss, smiling against his mouth. “You stupid, stupid direwolf.”

And then, as she turned away, she looked over her shoulder and added. “Kidding. You have you great taste in girlfriends.”

She did take moment, on the way, to stop into the lavatory, splash some water on her face, and wash her hands. Laney was a lazy cook, but she had he decency to do that, at least. Frank might share his food, sometime.

When she got to the kitchen, she began to pull things out of the fridge and turned on the stove. “Can you at least pour some juice, you hungry beast?”

Being called ‘sir’ caused a little jolt through him. He couldn’t help but grin, shifting a little as he looked her over. “Definitely not. I’d hate to have to punish you more than you already have coming.” Thank Merlin no one else was at the house. He kissed her back, rolling his eyes at her statement. He fixed her with a slight frown before his finger came up and pointed at her. Frank was finding it harder to be stern; the smirk was trying to slip over his lips. His finger was just meant as a warning - he actually had no idea what to say in response.

Which was fine, because she seemed to have her own ready. He barked a laugh and shook his head, taking the time to slip some comfortable jeans on before hastily putting the bed back together. When he came back out, fingers had run through his messy hair (and further messed it up) before finding themselves pocket deep in his trousers.

He sat on the stool and leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching as she started to pull things out. Marko came in, his tail attacking Frank’s leg after he realized his owner had nothing to offer him, not yet. “I thought you had your morning shake.” Pushing himself up with a loud groan, Frank moved to the fridge. He poured them each some orange juice before putting it away. Frank set her glass near her, his hand moving over her covered cheek, squeezing and kneading before he kissed her shoulder through her shirt. “I’m feeling extra hungry.”

Frank bit lightly into her shoulder before pulling back and retreating to the stool with his orange juice, sipping it. His wand was out, working on the coffee pot as if it were second nature. Which... by this point, it had become. He watched her from behind, rubbing between Marko’s ears when the dog came back around for more. “Do you have anywhere to be today?” Frank had a plan for it, if she didn’t. Otherwise he’d just have to figure out when to fit his revenge in.

Between the smirks and the kisses, Laney felt excitement and a little, tiny bit of nerves (the good kind) at his promise of punishment. She knew, they both did, that it was out of fun and lust, ultimately… but it didn’t stop her from being sincere in her answers, of taking the challenge to heart. Her eyes moved down slowly, settling on his warning finger, before coming back up in one soft blink. “It’ll be perfect.”

Once in the kitchen, she shot him a look, almost surprised, but it quickly became a grin. She turned back to the stove, where the bacon was beginning to sizzle. “There’s never too much protein… or Vitamin C.” Juice and all. Laney was diligent with the spatula this time, taking her task to heart now their morning conversation had framed it so prettily

 She looked over her shoulder again when he found his way beside her, then looked down at her side, where she could see his jeans in the corner of her eye. She always liked him in those jeans. A small smile crept onto her lips. “You’re going to make me burn the bacon. That’s sabotage,” she whined, not un-bossily. But then quickly added, in a much more demure tone: “Thank you for the juice.” She tilted her head back into him just a bit, eyes moving down to watch the bacon. “I’ll make sure I feed you.”

She turned the meat and lifted the juice, taking a well-deserved sip. Even if protein was always a plus, hydration came in other forms.

“No,” she answered casually, moving to stick the bread in the toaster since the bacon looked near done. While that warmed, she began to take the food off the stove. Not bothering to pat down the grease, since Frank was a direwolf and Laney was an athlete, and neither had the best habits in the world, she split it on to plates, giving him a bit more. “Why?” The bread popped up, and Laney spread it with butter, quickly added the bacon, pressed the tops down with satisfaction, and cut the sandwiches in half for easy eating.

She carried them over with dramatic carefulness, presenting Frank with his plate before sliding hers toward the stool beside him. She reached for her juice before sitting down with him. The urge to eat was strong, but she paused before she could lift her hands. “Did I make it right?” She asked, in a rather patient voice, her eyes finding his hands and plate, waiting for a reaction.

It helped that Frank already had a plan in mind. He smirked and cocked an eyebrow; perfect was one way to describe it. He was a bit giddy over the prospect, actually, the more he thought about it. Then, maybe, they would finally be even with this whole nonsense. Wasn’t that what Laney wanted anyway?

Frank tipped his glass of orange juice her way in (near perfect) agreement. About Vitamin C. He’d seen plenty of gym-hogs who he could point to for her first opinion. Even if those people would agree, Frank would have to politely point out that they couldn’t touch their elbows together. Too much of anything was never a good thing, but a healthy dose? Frank was willing to help keep Laney’s nutrition in line.

Including bacon sandwiches, so it seemed. “I thought you worked well under pressure...” He let it be, smirking as he ignored her whining. “You’re welcome.”

He licked his lips as he admired her from behind. Why wasn’t that important... “Because I want you to myself today.” A hand ran over the stubble on his face, wiping any remains of orange juice from his lips before arms lightly crossed and rested on the counter top. He watched her preparing the sandwiches very carefully, his stomach giving a warm hello to her as she brought it over.

Frank waited long enough for her to sit down before biting into the first half of his sandwich. The crunch let him know that the bacon was a little crispier than part of him wanted, but just perfect to the human side of him. He waited until he had another bite to respond to her question, making all sorts of chewing noises and exaggerated mm’s! Setting his half down, he followed it with a gulp of orange juice before turning his head to look at her.

“Lucky for you, you did.” Leaning over, he gave her a half greasy kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” His voice softened, briefly, before he sat back up, biting into the sandwich again. Once it was mostly down, he casually added, “Make sure you have a safe word picked out.” Half of his sandwich down, he paused to wipe his hands off and take another gulp of orange juice, the coffee done.

Frank hopped down off the stool and poured two mugfuls of the delicious morning caffeine. He fixed each up to their specifications before bringing them back, sitting down on his stool, relaxed. He offered a small piece of bacon to Marko before he continued on with his sandwich.

Though she was pleased he thought she worked well under pressure, Laney still wanted to see his face when he bit in.

She smiled, bigger than she had all morning, at his words. They had definitely moved past the irritation… Maybe.

“Do you? What if I suddenly had twenty things to do?” She asked, as she continued to put things together. “What if Marko gets jealous?” She added as she brought the food over. The look on his face when he took a bite was exactly what she wanted. And worth waiting a moment for her own. Which Laney soon dug into. She followed it with a huge sip of orange juice.

“Lucky for me,” she agreed, smiling against the kiss. The promise he’d made in the bedroom still lingered… but Laney did not expect what came out of his mouth next, and certainly not so casually.

He had managed to surprise her.

Laney paused, mid-bite, her mouth full of sandwich. Her eyes shifted over to him. She stopped herself from choking. (Which was easy, with her… lack of… certain reflexes.) She took the bite, finally, and chewed contemplatively, still looking at him with a suddenly milder expression… and raised brows. She swallowed.

“Casper,” she said, thinking of his brother-in-law.

When he came back the coffee, Laney took hers gratefully, taking as big of a sip as she had of the orange juice. “Do you get one, too?"