Alameda To Be, Or Not To Be

Walking into the house, Frank tried to school his features, but was failing in that department pretty badly. It’d been a rough evening with his nerves being shot due to the fanged asshole while on an errand run on top of trying to figure out what the best next course of action should be. Keys into a bowl with a bit too much force and noise, shoes still on, he was off to find Mathis, conversation with Abraham top of mind.

”Mathis, I need your opinion on something,” he called, dropping the food bag with an unceremonious plop to the counter.

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Coincide's with this thread

Mathis craned his neck against the back of the couch as the door opened, the puppy in his lap rolling upright with a little tinkle of her tags. Dolce huffed excitedly, and pattered off of his lap and to the edge of the couch, her front feet planting on the arm, her back legs stretched and little tail waggling between her curly haunches as she waited for one of her doting fathers to come into view.

Mathis paused the show he was watching, preparing to invite Frank to the couch once he'd set down all his stuff. But then, of course, the night had to sour. He sensed the tension as if it were just another sensory cue. Like scent or sound, it was a sixth sense that all Weres had. He leaned into his others as he sat upright, fully turning to look for the source as the keys sounded, then the clunking of shoes, the quickened heart rate and breathing. As Frank came into view, Mathis inhaled, a subconscious reaction.

His fiance carried the collection of smells he gathered throughout the day. All of them tended to blend together, none of them usually as prominent as the signature of the jaguar, which to Mathis smelled distantly like fresh rain and rich soil. The cologne he associated with Frank, too, was always there and welcome. But there was something more than hung on the air that trailed after Frank as he bustled into the kitchen.

Something dead.

Mathis frowned as he rose from his seat, glancing down at Dolce as she leaped from the couch to patter toward Frank's feet, interested in smelling the shoes that never typically made it past the front door. "What happened?" He questioned as he followed into the kitchen.

He knelt down as the dog came over, offering a scratch behind ears as her body wiggled while Mathis made his way in. It was relieving to be home, to have him in sight to which Frank gave a tired smile.

The question wasn’t one he’d exactly expected to be presented right away and he sighed, smile lost. “I got cornered in the goddamn pet store in Reignhart,” he grouched, making to stand again. ”By some vampire named Yuna. Apparently, she has plans to have a whole group of them there.”

Perhaps too easily, Mathis prepared for the worst. Well, not exactly the worst. The worst would be Frank harmed in some way, but a steady inhale and a scouring look over his lover as he turned to explain assured him that at least one thing was not so dire. Of course, that did nothing to douse the fire in his gut that stoked at the mention of a vampire. Of course, it had to be a vampire.

There was perhaps not a day that went by that Mathis wished vampires did not exist. Let there be a year of constant sunlight to raze the earth of them.

In Reignhart, a vampire Clutch. The very idea of it felt wrong, like the sky suddenly turning yellow, or the grass turning bright orange. Not meant to be. Reignhart was no longer his home, but it had been for years. His first step into America, the home of the Coalition. Where he first met Frank. To have it sundered and terrorized by vampires made him feel ill.

He thought momentarily of the vampire that Yana allowed to live in the city. How the Coalition had been forced to come together to convince her to force it out. He had never understood her motivation there. He had only ever understood that her influence of power was only beneficial to the rest of the Coalition when it benefitted Yana, first. She had been unwilling to put herself at risk in making the Coalition safer. It was something he maintained that he would never do.

Stone faced, he asked, "And she threatened you?" Like Margaux, like Beauregard, did she proclaim vendetta against their kind for simply existing? Was this another head that was better off removed from its shoulders?

”It definitely felt like it, but,” Frank crossed his arms, sighing out as he went, ”Not exactly. Reignhart is “too big” for her. As long as we’re on our best behavior or whatever she doesn’t care who goes in and out.” Fingers crooked out for emphasis on the quote before settling again. It was existing with a bullet already assigned to you as far as he was concerned.

”She doesn’t like Asha and Abraham though and asked for their names.” Which could’ve been a lot worse if she’d kept pressing. Being able to leave the damn place without anything escalating past what it had was a miracle in all honesty.

It had felt like it, likely in her approach, but she had promised otherwise. Too big, she proclaimed. The argument Yana had used, that the city was simply too big to monitor everything. Perhaps it was sharing with Frank, but Mathis had never felt Alameda was too large to maintain safety. If it ever felt as much, then perhaps it was time to offer leadership to someone else.

That being said, this Yuna declared that best behavior was tolerated. And there was the catch; she got to determine what counted as good behavior. It was all under her terms, which he supposed was the right of a leader to impose. That was if her leadership was legitimized by the respect of those she intended to dictate. And he, for one, was far from willing to respect it.

Especially not, when she seemed to have an exacting vendetta on two of their own kind. "In what way?" He questioned, leaning his forearms on the countertop, forgetting momentarily to greet Frank in a familiar way. His brain was riding harshly on the line between his significant other and allied leader. This sudden conflict left little room for softness between them. It could wait. "Did she mention why she did not like them? That she wanted to harm them?"

Of course, he had his feelings about Asha and Abraham. A majority of those feelings were not fond. But among the excess was inherent protectiveness that came with the kinship of being a Were. Jaguars, as it happened, were especially close to his heart. They had wronged Frank and Vidya and the rest of the Prowl, but that weighed little in the matter of if they were worth protecting if they were in immediate danger.

As much as it would’ve made sense for the vampire to have informed him of the whys, Frank was partial to having gained the information from Abraham instead. The less undead lying monologuing, the better.

”She didn’t, just that they aren’t allowed to be there. I don't doubt she wants to harm them, though." There'd been enough posturing to hint at the hostility lying just under the surface.

Frank leaned his back against the counter sighing as he brought out his phone again. Abraham and Asha were still waiting for a response, but the context to this whole thing was important to fully grasp the choice here. ”I texted Abraham and it turns out Asha and him ran her out of a different part of town after she'd attacked Katya with poison out of nowhere. That probably started her whole grudge against them.” What exactly did the vampire expect? Just to fuck around with a were and not expect something back?

No outright threat, but that would have been stupid to declare in front of someone that was presumably of the same kind. It was a threat, though. Not baseless, apparently. Asha and Abaham had had a conflict with this vampire, who had first had conflict with Katya. Mathis frowned tightly. Poison.

Mathis was quiet for a moment. Reignhart was no longer safe. He had to tell Charlie and Isolde. He'd never been interested in dictating where his members lived, but this seemed important enough to step in. Distance was necessary.

"Alright." Mathis said with a nod, straightening some. "We spread the word, then."

Mathis was thinking over it all, the implications of the fact a hostile vampire was living in a city they’d called home prior to Alameda no doubt lending to it. The solution of them spreading the word had him nodding, agreeing. This wasn’t something they’d keep quiet about and in a way, it also followed through with what the vampire had wanted anyways. She’d seen him as a means to tell the others and as much as being an errand runner got under his skin, there’d be harm put onto others if he didn’t.

”Right,” Frank spoke in line with the action. ”There’s also something else I needed your opinion on since it affects both our groups.” And then depending on this he may have to ask Vidya just to be certain of what was right for the jaguars, but that was only if there was a ‘yes’. ”Asha’s planning to try to push out the vampire again with her, Nika, and well, the vampire leader from downtown.” Which sounded like such a setup and his face twisted in some kind of disgust at the mention of the vampire. ”While I’d like nothing more than helping to kick her out of the city entirely, I’m worried about the consequences if it doesn’t work.”

He'd expected that to be the end of it. Because that was the end of a sensible, straightforward to reaction to something like this. Wide-spread information, light shining directly on the matter of a vampire group in Reinhart. Weres needed to know, to be safe and smart. So when the idea of seeking conflict arose, Mathis was immediately suspicious of it. Not that the idea of driving out another Clutch was not appealing; he did not have any issue ripping another Domina's head off. But that one had been a constant source of violence, always the perpetrator, a menace to their kind. This vampire, for all she was blatantly cocky, seemed to intend the opposite. So why provoke? Why give a reason for bloodshed?

Mathis straightened entirely, frowning gravely at the idea of the insurgence and the alliance with the new Domina of Ridgefield. Why Asha trusted that vampire at all was beyond him. Working directly with her seemed a very good way to end up dead. Especially when weedling between her and this Yuna. It seemed a great deal of political cat fighting, which would undoubtedly result in someone getting hurt.

"No." Mathis decided blandly, blinking back into focus, his eyes softening on Frank. The idea of him joining this party was... He did not like it. "No, neither of us should do that." He continued, head shaking. "Vampires are compassionless and selfish. Working with one to kill another is..." He shook his head, exhaling shakily.

"It's not worth it, even without... downtown's help." It occurred to him that he did not know the name of their leader. "Domini are dangerous on their own." He swallowed, only just managing to abstain from reaching for his neck, where the wounds haunted his skin in distant memory. "But she's not alone anymore. She has allies, if she is making a group." Not as strong, but still capable enough to inflict damage. Who knew how many. It could be ten. Twenty. Even if they killed Yuna, there would be another head to grow and strike back. It was a hydra, and he was not willing to risk himself or Frank or any of their loved ones to defeat it. Especially if it seemed to be dormant. He'd rather not give it a reason to strike.

There was an immediate response in body language before anything was said and the no to them both was taken, accepted, even if a small part of him and a much larger cat part hated it. Logically, it made sense and he wasn’t going to buck against it. Frank would just… well he’d just have to be ready in case anyone needed to be patched up afterwards. It’d be a couple hours of no sleep while wringing his hands, no doubt and maybe even past that.

From there Mathis went down a description of a vampire, getting a bit carried away, but understandable and Frank let him say his piece. He got it, really.

”Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. It sounds like they’re walking into a pitrap,” he sighed, crossing arms loosely against his chest. ”I’ll tell them to keep us updated at least. I don’t… I’m worried they’re going to get hurt.” Frank didn’t particularly ever want to see another person torn up how Mathis or Abraham had been, it was too easy to remember like some kind of spector.

None of it sounded productive. Who was to say that once they wandered into this vampire's den, the two leaders would not join forces to kill the Weres? It made his gut clench to know how easy it would be for them to die. Exhaling through his nose, Mathis picked up a hand to push his hair from his forehead. He felt wired by this, his bones aching, skin itching. Was it obvious that he'd started to sweat? Ew.

"If I didn't know Asha, I would suggest trying to stop her from going." He admitted with some hint of humor, because they both knew how well Asha took to being told no, but it was in the place of the grave certainty that she was going to end up worse for anything that came of this. The repercussions were substantial. Even if they killed Yuna, the unrest it would bring. More undue attention to Weres, to Jaguars specifically.

A smile quirked up, but didn’t exactly go anywhere, weighed down by the situation. ”Yeah.” There was really nothing for it. At this point he was simply airing out his worries that weren’t going to be resolved till Asha and the weres she’d taken with her came back in, hopefully, one piece.

Letting out a sigh, Frank’s attention went to his phone again, messaging Abraham back.

He felt it all settle into place. There was, of course, some amount of guilt. But there was a limit to their loyalty, and it was strained already by previous circumstances. To risk themselves and their groups by extension was just not something Mathis found beneficial. He could only hope that Asha and her chosen allies practiced caution and that the vampire she worked with proved either fangless or an easy enough threat to diffuse if the tides turned.

For his and Frank's part, they would play goalies, prepared to catch and redirect any shrapnel that came flying from this collision.

He waited for Frank to be finished texting. When that was done, he sighed heavily and returned to himself with a proverbial hanging of a King's crown. Letting his head sink some, he chased the tension from his shoulders by reaching for Frank's arms. Hello, he'd like a hug, please.

Out went the text and in came a thanks from Abraham. Frank tried his best to keep the general weighted expression that came from concentration sinking into anything further as he turned the screen off once more. The reach for his arms had him putting it down entirely to the counter, Mathis all, but reminding him of the fact he was home with the movement.

Stepping towards Mathis, he’d move to wrap his own arms around him readily, warmth and the ease of familiarity settling in to push away the bristling evening. He was home, a dog was sniffing around her owners’ feet, he could chill out. Letting out a breath, Frank tried to relax.

”Hi, Sunshine.”

Mathis smiled from where he'd buried his face into the crook of Frank's neck. Sunshine, hm?

"Hello, Mr. Raincloud." He greeted back, relaxing into the safety of the embrace. Safe. He was safe. They were. Picking his head up, he peered into Frank's face, placing a kiss between his brows. "Won't you let out all your rain?" A firm squeeze, and he relaxed away from him, a trailing hand tugging at Frank's shirt. "Come, get changed, I'll put this away." He added, and reached the other hand out to pat the bag of dog food, ready to fill the storage bucket in the pantry, and put a scoop of it into Dolce's bowl for dinner.

The name back had him letting out a small rumble of a laugh, squeezing. As he felt Mathis shift, Frank caught his eye before a sudden kiss was given to his brows that warmed him head to toe as the words kept his smile pulling wide. How had he ever gone through the day without this?

All too soon, Mathis pulled away, sending him off to get changed out of the day’s clothes. Getting comfortable while also shirking off the decaying stink that Frank still could whiff traces of to a bothersome degree sounded great. ”Thanks,” he agreed amenably, stepping up to place a quick peck on lips before setting off to do just that. ”I’ll be right back.”

He'd be on the couch when he returned, ready to welcome him into waiting arms.

Maybe with a little too much ferocity, he pulled his fiance to his side, finding a place to drive his head once more. Some seamless blend of catlike affection, and his own personal brand of neediness. "I'm glad you're okay." He said amidst his burrowing. The words did not cover half of it, but he trusted they were weighted enough to leave the same impression.

It wouldn’t take him long and once in sweats and an old throw around shirt with a fading print, his body finally kicked that last domino over to wash away the remnants of adrenaline. The cat stopped pacing with him now no longer surrounded by vampire that stuck to his clothes like tiny pins of decaying bone, instead hugged by Mathis’ and his own combined scents like a welcoming glove.

Walking to the living room, he smiled at the open arms, dropping into the cushion where Frank was immediately met by affection catlike in nature. With a chuckle, he wrapped arms around him again, sagging into his body. Jaguar flopping at the shadow cat it could never quite fully see in the space, Frank moved to lean his forehead against Mathis’ shoulder.

The words sank in and then more as a hand came up to stroke through the back of the man’s head. It really could’ve been worse than a few tense words and he was lucky it hadn’t, something that could easily pull him into a whirlwind of what ifs that dwelled on too much. ”Me too,” Frank agreed easily, sighing into the fabric of his shirt.

”God, a petstore.” He still couldn’t get over it. Didn’t they have some other places to rot?

He melted to the touch, could have purred for it, but even that was a bit too far for his standards. Still, he let his eyelids wilt shut, and air sluice steadily from his nostrils in a settling sigh. He wasn't going to let himself venture into the depths of the millions of ways this night could have gone wrong. He knew firsthand just how abruptly a vampire could ruin an evening. An art exposition. A perusal of a thrift shop. A closing shift at work.

A pet store, for Christ's sake. Did a vampire even keep pets?

Mathis' head lolled as he exhaled something of a chuckle, though it was twisted with cynicism reserved for vampires. "Ma dai, cazzo, they're everywhere you look!" He lamented, a touch dramatic, albeit justified in his frustration. "I wish to go somewhere without them." He added, blinking up at the ceiling, imagining somewhere where a vampire would not be. "Somewhere sunny. All the time."

He hummed at the sentiment. They really were everywhere, it didn’t matter where he looked. Anytime, he so much as let down his guard, bam another vampire. It was tiresome and frustrating and god… just, ugh.

As Mathis looked up at the ceiling, he shifted to put his gaze to his face, watching the fantasy play out on his features. Somewhere sunny all the time, hmm. ”That sounds like a dream,” he agreed with an amused smile. ”The closest we have to choose from is the Arctic though, I think… Norway, maybe?”

Mathis' eyebrows scrunched down to reach the bridge of his nose at the options laid before him. The arctic! Norway! He smiled despite the miserably unpleasant idea of living somewhere so cold. "Franco, I can barely survive the snow here, I would freeze in the arctic." How pitiful a sight! A cheetah, frozen solid, ice hanging from his nose! Horrible!

Still smiling, he suggested unthinkingly, "Italia." He embellished the name of his country in the way it was meant to be, as if reciting the name of an ancient piece of poetry. "She's sunny. And so many churches. No vampire would dare." He proclaimed, simply choosing to ignore the fact that he was certainly absolutely wrong. It was better not to imagine what kinds of creatures lurked in the catacombe dei cappuccini. Maybe it was better that they stayed there, anyway. But the beaches of Sardegna? He could not imagine a vampire wishing to step foot on the island.

Obviously, those hadn’t been a hit and as eyebrows came down on him, Frank’s went up and up, before laughing at Mathis’ outright refusal. He didn’t forget how miserable Mathis usually was in the winter and the image of him being forever bundled up with a permanent frown tickled him.

Italy, of course, how could it not be there that Mathis thought of. Churches and very hot summers to boot, but! With such old cities, it was all too easy to imagine it crawling with them regardless. Keeping those points to himself, he just grinned along with a playful roll of his eyes. ”They’d definitely be… uh, finito, just like that,” Frank suggested with a snap.

His grin expanded, and he took part of his lower lip between his teeth to wrangle it as he tucked his head in to glance at Frank's adorable face. Oh, he loved him. "Si, Franco," He agreed in an accommodating tone, though it boarded somewhere close to playful condescension, like a papà agreeing to something a child has imagined up. "Cenere alla cenere," He added imaginatively, holding out a hand in the general space Frank had snapped his fingers, and splaying his own fingers out in a fluttering motion as he swiped through the air as if ashes were blowing away on the wind.

He dropped the act before it became too demeaning, though, letting his hand fall back down into their pile of cuddling bodies. "At least maybe the beaches." He decided, looking back at Frank, pulling in a shallow breath as he imagined white sand and pastel apartment faces peering down over clear, knee-high water. His smile softened, sobering into a halfway sincerity.

"We should go."

The tone had him frowning playfully and he… Mathis lost him, but he followed the vibrations of words that mixed into the space made by fluttering fingers. It was some kind of saying, repeated words and all, but the point was still made – the vampires would be gone.

Beaches though, that sounded nice. When was the last time he’d gone to a proper ocean beach? Years ago, something thought about in dismay. He hadn’t even gone with Mathis yet and that had to change.

Mathis’ gaze was far off, sounding sincere in considering doing so in Italy. Both hands dropped further down his waist. ”That’d be nice and relaxing. I bet the water is great,” he agreed fully with a long pull to the word. Waiting a beat as if in thought, he’d venture into speaking again. ”But we’ll have to still watch out for sharks, or they might, GET YOU!” At that, both hands went under his shirt and onto the sides of Mathis’ stomach to tickle furiously.

He didn’t know why he’d expected more reluctance. Maybe so fresh off of putting the groups so forwardly in his mind, he expected them to be reason not to step away. He was glad for Frank’s willingness, even if it was a fleeting, inconsequential suggestion. His smile was growing once more, and he was making mental moves to genuinely put the offer on the table.

But then Frank’s cautionary suggestion sent him reeling backward toward the edge of the couch, crying out in surprise as his face contorted. Crunching inward like a hedgehog, he shot his own hands down to wrap his fingers firmly on around Frank’s wrists both to stave off the attack, and anchor himself so he did not entirely slip onto the floor.

Grinning, he implored, ”Im serious, Franco!” Hoping that remaining steadfast on the topic would offer him sanctuary from the onslaught of ticklish fingers.

Belly laughs buffeted out of him as Mathis yelled with surprise and pulled away. Hands made to grab Frank’s wrists as his eyes danced at the predicament his fiance found himself. Rule number one, never let your guard down.

Pulling his arms in to bring Mathis back towards him, his expression became more thoughtful at the sincerity in tone. So, that was an actual suggestion? They had… It was so far away, but it sounded nice. Really. He’d never been to Italy before, a fact that hadn’t changed since first telling Mathis as much several years ago.

”About going to Italy?” Just to be sure.

Glad for the cease-fire, he let himself be reeled back in. Though, he did keep his hands positioned lower, ready to block any further attacks if they made themselves apparent. For the moment, though, he sunk back into the idea that was becoming more and more appealing the further he thought into it. "Yes..." Mathis confirmed with a nod, smiling fondly as he thought. About the sun, about the sea and the streets, the food and the wine, the music and the people. He missed it.

Mathis was happy here, of course. Colorado was the closest thing he had felt to home since leaving his own childhood villa. In some ways, it had become more than that. With Frank, and the Coalition. Parts to the greater sum of himself. But there was always the missing piece, somewhere he had never quite given up hope of going back to one day. But that was the future, some fifty years ahead, maybe sixty. When he and Frank were old and grey, they would go to Italy and live in peace. It wasn't something he'd talked to Frank about, of course, but it was simply what he saw for himself in his head, a simple thing to accept.

But in the meantime, why not visit? Why not marry his present and his future together?

Why not... Oh. Oh!

His eyes refocused, and his smile grew wider as the idea took hold. "Yes, Franco. Yes, it's perfect!" He confirmed his epiphany aloud, forgetting Frank could not hear his thoughts.

The yes paired with the look on Mathis’ face tugged something in him he wasn’t exactly sure how to pinpoint. The country was Mathis’ home and he hadn’t been back there in some time from what Frank could recall. Meanwhile, they’d been back to his own home several times, but at the end of the day they were still in Colorado, not much was different culturally. It must be hard. Frank gnawed inwardly at it not coming up sooner. He should’ve brought it up, suggested as much.

An exclamation of the idea being perfect had him smiling genuinely. If Mathis wanted to go and Frank felt that excited buzz to do the same, then it was worth trying to figure out how. ”Alright,” he agreed with a huffing laugh. ”We should go.”

Alright! He could not help but laugh softly, his mind a hundred yards ahead of Frank agreeing to go. He was already making plans, the scene unfolding before his eyes. The sand of the beach, stark white and glittering. He and Frank, barefoot, and ankle-deep in the waves. Their hands held, their heads bowed together, someone reciting nuptials over them. His chest felt like it might burst.

Grinning hugely, Mathis lifted his hands to place on either side of Frank's face, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on his lips, then his nose, then his forehead, before he pulled back to look at him, "Caro," He exhaled, searching the man's face.

Christ, did he love him.

He was certain of his words when he spoke them. "Marry me there."

Apparently, that was the best answer he could give if that smile was anything to go by. Why, it afforded him a kiss and then more, he wasn’t about to question. Mathis was happy, this was putting their mind to something to look forward to rather than dwelling over his shitty evening prior to this. Life was good. Italy would be fun to plan for.

Watching him steadily as he pulled back, Frank hadn’t been expecting the next part. He couldn’t help feeling like things sort of screeched to a halt at the suggestion of marrying him in Italy. The engagement ring in question seemed to grow tight where it held to his finger and his mouth dried up at the reminder of time. That uneasy pull to want to disentangle from Mathis and get out was present right along with the surprise hit him hard. Uncertainty and god, “what about the implications of a destination wedding” questions swirled around nonstop.

”That’s an idea,” he managed to supply, not sure what to say really, fumbling along in thoughts till he’d landed on at least that. Frank could’ve kicked himself. A good fiance would’ve offered something more, well, more. He was fucking up.

The rigidity, the reluctance here, it was easier to anticipate. It was still something the daunted Frank to speak about, especially so suddenly. And he'd told him there was no rush, that they didn't have to let the idea of it engulf them. And yet, as Frank stiffened and adjusted to the sudden direction Mathis had kited the conversation, he only smiled broader. Because Frank only had to hear it said aloud, surely, to see the way it worked so wonderfully. Maybe he was too high on his own inspiration.

"It is, Franco." He confirmed with a bobbling nod of his head, and suddenly struck with the need to move so they were not locked in a stalemate, Mathis let his body loosen and slump backward toward the edge of the couch. Blindly, he dropped his legs toward the floor, sliding easily onto his knees beside the couch.

Still leaning in toward Frank, still cupping his cheeks, he continued to articulate his design for the beautiful man before him, "It's a good one! Hm! The sun! The beach, the ocean. Somewhere quiet, somewhere alone. Nothing fancy, just us! Or, mah, whoever you want there! Your mamà, the Prowl, the Coalition. I don't know!" His head shook, the finer details blurred and unimportant. All he cared about was Frank there. That's all he needed.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected Mathis to just roll with it, some part of him anticipating the whole conversation to be derailed. What met instead was a smile widening and Frank personally feeling his stomach sinking further into the floor. It was a really complicated array of emotions that his already fried and tired body was trying to figure out.

Frank watched with some confusion as Mathis moved to settling on the floor to kneel and kept hold of his face with warm hands. No option, but to lean forward with the hold, he let it ground him to the spot, suffocating the need for flight as Mathis began to spin his web.

An Italian beach wedding. It could be a dream, but fuck. He could throw up right now with the anxiety that warped its hold on his stomach. Quiet, alone, okay. A breath. His mother could attend which was a must. As much as he’d prefer to just elope, she would never let him live down if he did. Their groups even could go, which settled a big question that he’d worried about before this had become a whole wedding.

His own hands took their turn of circling wrists, holding Mathis as he took in his face. He was so excited, smiling, carefree, and Frank wished it was so simple for him to return that in kind. That’s what Mathis deserved, untainted joy.

What had Eli said? Equal parts gut and logic. Okay.

”We’ll figure it out.” Instead of more words, he simply went the rest of the way to offer a sweet kiss to lips.

He waited, still all but vibrating from the upward swing of emotion. But even from this point of view, he could see it in his fiance's eyes. This was hard from him, as it had been for any discussion of the wedding. It threatened to topple his energy, to send him nosediving into doubt. He caught himself, thankfully, but did begin to drift slowly back to earth. His heart clenched, and he softened as his face was taken into the steady, familiar hands whose hold he did not know he needed.

They would figure it out. Not a yes, but not a no. Just a... what, a talk about it later? Don't bring it up for another few months? It'd been nearly seven, and this was the first time they spoke about where or when. Mathis held firm about his promise that there was no rush, but it was harder, when he could so vividly see it. When he so vividly wanted it. But again, it wasn't a no. It was just... ah. Frank was visibly anxious. He softened further, sinking into the kiss. He exhaled steadily. When it felt natural, he pulled away, and sunk back onto his butt to relieve the pressure from his knees. Dolce, finished eating, hurried to occupy his lap.

He chuckled softly, pushing his fingers into her curly hair as he nodded. "Yes. Right, getting ahead of myself." He leashed himself back in. There was a pinch in his chest that he refused to try and diagnose. It was easier to settle for... they would figure it out!

Maybe, this was wrong to do, halting a conversation with a kiss, but here he was. Frank needed time. He needed them to pause before he worked himself up into a shift on an altar he wasn't ready for. He needed them to be over with this already, why was Frank delaying? He hated himself. When it came down to it, he wanted this, he really did. Mathis was too kind and promised him time to get past his personal hurdles, but it was inevitable that at some point the clock would run out. Would he leave when it did?

Frank let him move away, personally ashamed as Mathis turned to Dolce, emotionally pulling himself inwards. That wasn’t right. Running a hand through hair before down his face, he looked at the puppy and the love of his god damn life and his heart ached, self loathing hitting like a crowbar.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured. “I like your excitement, I want to hear your ideas.” A smile quirked out.

For the record, he would have been alright with putting it to rest tonight. Really! Or he would have told himself as much. It would have been easy to justify it, that the day had been long and stressful for Frank, that this was sudden and not exactly the time to start making huge wedding plans. He wasn’t disregarding his excitement, his feelings didn’t change on the matter, but he was tempering it into something to be more solidly explored later.

His thoughts would have wandered to dinner, or what to watch tonight, something more simple and domestic. Easy decisions! But Frank was… Mathis eyed him with reserved apprehension, worried that he’d pushed into a territory too stressful for Frank to easily retreat from. And wondered why it was that way. Why was this topic so… Regret was a thing he knew well. It was not a stranger. But he didn’t want it to show it’s ugly face here. Not in his home. Not with Frank.

So he was glad for the reassurance. It was alright. He wanted to know, he liked his ridiculous schemes. Mathis looked up into the face above him, absently offering his fingers to the mouth of the puppy in his lap, letting her adorable needle teeth do their best to gnaw through the toughened skin of his fingers. Some awful part of him was reluctant to believe Frank. A voice assured that he was only being accommodated to spare his feelings. That Frank didn’t actually…

He smiled, a defense against the intruding thoughts, and reclined backward onto one palm, the puppy readjusting in his lap to chase the fingers that pulled away. Feeling sheepish, for some reason, Mathis rolled his shoulders in a soft shrug and cast his eyes down. No big deal!

”Thats all, really, Franco.” He supplied. “I can’t think of anything I would like more.” Any idea he might have had before paled in comparison. It just felt right. To him, at least.

“That’s if… If you still–“ Dolce’s teeth pinched noticeably, and he capitalized on the diversion, taking in a sharp breath though his teeth as he glanced down at the dog, chastising her nearly inaudibly in Italian.

Mathis relaxed back and it was hard not to feel the emptiness where the man had been just a few moments prior. Even with him within reaching distance, it was all too easy to feel alone right now. Still, it was him relaxing and that was a good sign, Frank’s words smoothing any miscommunication. There had to be other thoughts Mathis had about the whole affair and Frank was going to listen and force himself to distance enough from his spiraling, or at least try, during the conversation..

Frank settled hands in his lap, ready to hear anything else that Mathis might want to add and yet, that was really it. Mathis was currently set on what he’d suddenly suggested out of the blue and, well, now he knew. Now there was time to put a setting to the whole thing.

The question had him furrowing brows, not sure where that was going as Mathis was cut off by a sharp nip. Dolce immediately was being chastised after and Frank gave it a moment, thinking through the words and only ending down darkened paths as he watched the scene. No, he wasn’t letting that one go. ”If I still,” he pressed.

Right. Frank rarely missed anything. He knew that. And yet he found himself clamming up as he scooped the puppy from his lap and set her onto the floor beside him, sending her on her way to go find something to undoubtedly chew. It left them with a pregnant quiet with no distraction to fill it. Mathis wished he could reverse time, wished he could be back on the couch in Frank’s arms. Well, technically he could be, if he climbed back up. But that felt like another diversion. Like the kiss. Like the puppy.

He was quiet a moment, idly rubbing over the pinprick of Dolce’s nip, which was already dissipating. Another minute and it would be gone entirely. If Frank still… It was cruel to doubt. Yet he still did. He felt guilty for it. It was ridiculous, but he did. He felt guilty for doubting, he felt guilty for ever forcing Frank into agreement, he felt guilty for feeling guilty! It made no sense.

He was being forced to address it now. He knew the guilt would only grow deeper if he avoided it, it was a looming creature who’s jaws grew wider, and wider, and wider when you had your back to it. And when you least expected it, it struck to swallow you whole.

So he turned about face, and looked it in the eye.

”If this is still what you want to do.”

The question left a pause that grew and grew as he watched in anticipation that had him in knots. The fact it hadn’t been immediately answered was never a good thing. It was having to be worked up to, a feeling he knew very well.

Silently pleading for Mathis to spit it out eventually it did and a flash of morose surprise ran through him. If he still wanted to do this, still wanted to get married. What did that even mean? His gaze searched Mathis’ as he felt his mouth try for words and stopped, not satisfied with the line about to come out. No. No, he was fucking up enough to make Mathis think he was second guessing and that crushed him. He was stuck in between leaps, but that didn’t mean Frank didn’t want to eventually land.

Right hand moving, he made to twist off the engagement ring that felt tight around his finger as if it knew it was in the limelight. ”Mathis.” It slid off and he rolled it in his palm, noting the grain, before holding the well polished wood carefully out between them by index and thumb. ”I’m not putting this on everyday because I don’t want to… Unless.. Unless, you don’t want to?”

Fear gripped him, a clawed fist clenched around the core of his whole self. He dreaded Frank’s next words, his cruel minds convincing him in those fleeting moments of his words hanging on the air that Frank would declare suddenly that, no, he did not. That he wanted to leave. That he never truly wanted this to reach this point. It was all unreasonable anxiety, but Mathis struggled to shirk it in the moment. What would he do if that was the case? If he was losing Frank? It was a wildly painful thought, a physical sensation that made his chest ache.


And he nearly did nosedive into true panic when he watched those hands move. Those steady, warm hands. The source of so much kindness, so much tenderness and care. Now ripping at the seams of his heart as the ring slid from the finger. But instead of tossed in an imaginary fire like some dramatic stage play, or offered back to him wordlessly, it was held aloft between them. Symbolic, this loop of metal and wood, imbued with words from Frank that were like wool over flame, reducing his panic to a smolder.

If he did not want to, he would not have agreed. He would not wear the ring. Not unless Mathis himself was having second thoughts. The idea that after all of this, all of the words he’d spoken, all of the gestures he’d made… the idea of him not being certain was laughable. Outrageous. Was there ever any indication? Was Frank looking for one? Was he waiting for an out? No. Cruel. Those thoughts were cruel. Listen to his words, he told himself. Listen to his action and his heart.

Mathis exhaled the air that had grown stale for how long he held it within his chest, rolling to his knees in a fluid motion as he did. He knelt before Frank once more, now in near supplication, as he reached up to fold his hands around Frank’s own. The ring was tucked into the center of their combined palms, his own ring shining at the top of the knotted fists.

“All I want is you.” He told him steadily, each word it’s own declaration, signed and sealed.

“Wherever, and however. Just you, happy, in whatever way I can make you be.”

Mathis suddenly was closer, putting hands around his own holding the ring. He smiled, one that wasn’t tense for the first time in a modest span of the conversation. Somehow this night had spiraled to this point and it wasn’t lost on him, but apparently reassurances were needed on both ends. He was the cause of that.

All that was wanted by Mathis was him, in whichever way that was, except, truly, there were still some preconceptions there no matter what was said. Mathis wanted him as his husband, anything less would be an absence of fulfillment. At least, however, they were aligned on the want of simply being together. That was easy, the other was a work in progress. “Alright,” he said warmly.

“That’s all I want too.” The smile dropped as he sighed. “I’m sorry to make you question that.”

He had to trust it. Frank was the person he trusted most in his life. He knew it was not possible for a true matebond to form between them, but from what he'd observed and heard of the phenomenon, Mathis was nearly certain that he and Frank were bonded just as closely. Sometimes he wished for it so that he could know exactly how Frank was feeling, if he was hurting. But then he was reminded that he already could.

He chased the doubt away, exhaling steadily through his nose as he lifted himself further, aiming for a kiss that might work as a salve for their bleeding hearts. How frightening this had been. The momentary lapse in confidence. Maybe that was a testament in and of itself.

When he pulled away, he nodded softly. "It's okay." He assured, meaning it. "Your day was long. We can talk about it more later."

A kiss was prompted and Frank gave what he could with it, whatever reassurance Mathis needed, free to grab, but also taking some for himself, layers to be added where things had ripped up in the conversation. He really was pathetic here, wasn’t he?

When he finally had a vocal answer from Mathis, Frank felt a tug in his throat. It was okay, but they shouldn’t even need to have this conversation, Mathis should’ve never doubted! God, he just. The jaguar’s need to pace made sense, something he wanted to do right now as well, to expend energy and just tear into things in frustration at himself.

”Okay,” he breathed with a nod to Mathis’ point and appeal to put the rest of this conversation for later. Whenever that later was, it was up to Frank to fucking get over himself before he further tore things apart. ”That sounds good.”

He’d make to move his hands if Mathis would give, slipping the ring back on for safekeeping before reaching to pull his fiance back on the couch with him.

He did what he could to read the lines scribed into the tanned planes of Frank's face. He felt so sure that he could read them, and yet something was still obscure. Like reading an older version of a language he knew. Or maybe a newer one, something transcendent of what he was familiar with. It was disconcerting. But they'd already pushed and probed enough tonight. Emotions were high. It was better to settle for where they were now, let the burden slip away to wait by the door for them in the morning.

For now, he eased himself back into the familiar arms. There, he let his breathing ease. He was sure as he could be. His feelings had not wavered. There had only been fear that Frank's had. But he had trust, and that was a greater force than love.

So he melted back into the comfort of their present. The future could remain there for now, a distant thing to consider when this moment eventually became the past. It was easy, maybe too much so. But he afforded himself the luxury because there were other, much easier things he denied himself for the sake of others around him.

With a kiss in the crook of Frank's neck, Mathis turned his sights on the rest of the evening before them.

One thing, though, "Dolce," He cooed sweetly, avoiding Frank's eye, "Are you going to tell Papà that he got the wrong food, or should I?"

Mathis joined him once more and he forced himself to soften, to push thoughts away and shut his brain off for now. It was harder than it looked, but it was an attempt made easier with the weight of the other man pressing against him.

He hummed at the kiss, perking up at what Mathis had to say before letting the meaning sink in. It was the wrong food… after all of that! Frank looked at him in despair before leaning his head back as a groan left him. ”You’ve got to be kidding me,” he drew out, hand coming up to rest against his forehead. It looked like he had another pet store trip in his future.