[That is a heartbeat he'd recognize. Steady, solid and nearly as stubborn as the man himself.]
it's unlocked.
[And Matt is fighting a bout of nerves. Frank has always seemed sincere. It helps to be able to tell if someone is lying. It isn't like he can figure out what he is lying about. Or if he's just nervous too. The attraction is complicated. That frustrating grey area of whether or not he wants to punch him or kiss him. Only one way to figure out which is the winner there.]
(Frank isn't often nervous. But this encounter gets his heart beating. He hasn't been with anyone since Maria. Before Maria, he had been with men in his unit, but that was always passing and desperation or ... something else. With Matt it was attraction. Something familiar.
The doorknob turns and Frank's big fat boots stomp in and knock the snow off.)
[Their flirtation has not been sweet nothings. Hit and run touches and nothing committal. Matt's own flutter of nerves is beating at his chest. The apartment is warm, dry. And he's in a pair of sweatpants, nothing else.]
(He repeats him, and the cone of his voice is pointed away from Matt's face. But then he remembers eye contact is possible with Matt, because Matt won't return it. Frank takes a second to glance up at those brown eyes and he blinks a few times. Wow.)
[Matt's home is not much to look at. Big if not rather empty and boring. He blinks softly and tilts his head to the couch.]
Too forward?
[Well, he is the least dress person in this room. He tries not to feel bashful about it. Heat still rises on his cheeks and ears. At least it's not going all the way down his neck and chest.]
I came here t'see you. And I'm seein' you. A lot of you.
(If Matt can sense the smallest of smiles in voices, he'll know Frank's mouth is curving around those words. Kind of a mischievous smile, the kind he always seems to have.)
Nice couch.
(That's definitely sarcasm. He leans down on one knee to unlace his boots and toe them off before crossing over to the ugly couch.)
[A lot, yes. That was what was promised. And he can hear Frank's heart beating, the way his lips move as he speaks. Matt starts to close the distance, moving a little like he would in those red pajamas, cautious and light on his feet. There isn't any clear threat here. Nerves and anticipation.]
Are you gonna punch me in the face if I touch you first?
you're gr8 bb no worries at aaaaaaall
it's unlocked.
[And Matt is fighting a bout of nerves. Frank has always seemed sincere. It helps to be able to tell if someone is lying. It isn't like he can figure out what he is lying about. Or if he's just nervous too. The attraction is complicated. That frustrating grey area of whether or not he wants to punch him or kiss him. Only one way to figure out which is the winner there.]
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The doorknob turns and Frank's big fat boots stomp in and knock the snow off.)
'Lo?
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C'mon in. Thaw out.
[That's the idea anyway.]
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(He repeats him, and the cone of his voice is pointed away from Matt's face. But then he remembers eye contact is possible with Matt, because Matt won't return it. Frank takes a second to glance up at those brown eyes and he blinks a few times. Wow.)
You're a bit forward there, Red.
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Too forward?
[Well, he is the least dress person in this room. He tries not to feel bashful about it. Heat still rises on his cheeks and ears. At least it's not going all the way down his neck and chest.]
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(If Matt can sense the smallest of smiles in voices, he'll know Frank's mouth is curving around those words. Kind of a mischievous smile, the kind he always seems to have.)
Nice couch.
(That's definitely sarcasm. He leans down on one knee to unlace his boots and toe them off before crossing over to the ugly couch.)
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Are you gonna punch me in the face if I touch you first?