#i am content to study them on a little slide under a microscope

[alien-ally]

My reaction to allos saying wildly questionable bordering offensive things casually in the name of flirting: I dont fucking get any of this and I'm so glad i dont have to.

[lena-went]

Non sei Rotto

                                          FREDERICK’S BACKSTORY

R: Frederick wasn't the only one in this relationship that was a bit of a snoop. After he had spent a few nights at my apartment we had spent multiple nights at his house. Nights after work were spent cooking and cuddling, nothing had ever been so mundanely perfect. On this particular night I was cleaning up crumbs on the floor from where we had been eating on the couch and I noticed a thick album bound in dark leather under the couch pushed nearly to the wall. I pulled it from its hidden shelter and dusted it off. 

Frederick was at the sink with his back turned toward me rinsing and cleaning dishes. I felt the spine of the album crackle as I opened it. Photos of a chubby baby with large green eyes stared up at me as I turned the pages reverently. Soon a young boy took the baby’s place. That stare was too familiar to be mistaken. Frederick. I looked towards where he stood, still busy cleaning. 

“Frederick,” I called to him from where I knelt beside the couch. 

“Yes my love?” He responded without turning from his task. 

“What’s this?” I saw him still and tense before turning off the water that had been steadily flowing into the sink.

 He turned slowly with an odd look on his face. I watched as he approached me in a near regretful fashion. He took a seat carefully on the floor beside me wincing slightly.

“That…is my family album.” He spoke slowly as if choosing every word carefully. 

I leaned my head on his shoulder and shifted closer to him. “You’ve never mentioned your family…to me I mean.” 

He leaned his head to rest slightly on mine. “There is not much to say. My father and mother died years ago.” 

I moved to wrap my arms around him in comfort. “I’m so sorry my love.” He took a deep sigh and patted my hand lightly. 

“As I said it has been years. I have had time to…adjust.”

I couldn't help myself, I had to press further if I wanted to avoid confusion around the subject in future. 

“How old were you?” I asked softly rubbing slow circles on his upper stomach. 

“24…I…had dropped out of Johns Hopkins and just started studying psychology at Harvard.” He took the album from my hands and flipped to the near end of the book. 

“This is us on the day I was accepted to medical school…my father…he told me he was finally proud of me.” My brow furrowed at the word finally which Frederick had emphasized with a heavy breath. 

He turned to me his eyes glazed with tears. “You should have seen his face the day I told him I had dropped out of the surgery program. He—he told me I was…’no longer his son’. He sarcastically mentioned psychiatry in passing as he berated me with insults and I ran with it not knowing what else to do.”

 My heart broke for Frederick as he spoke quietly and breathy obviously holding back tears. I kissed his neck gently and gave him a light squeeze from the arm I had wrapped around his middle. 

“The last thing he said to me was after my mother had tried to step in and protect me, he looked me dead in the eyes and said ‘You are a failure, and a quitter. Get out of my sight.’” Frederick choked back a sob at which I wrapped myself more around him. 

I would have tried stop him from crying but I could feel his body release a tension which must have been present for years. He continued through his tears, clutching at my arms. 

“A few weeks later I received these albums in the mail. That was his way of cutting me from the family dynasty…as it were. They both died in a car accident two months later.” I waited for him to speak again but he was silent, staring at the photograph as tears dropped, pattering onto the dusty plastic covering the pages of the album. 

I looked down at the photograph as well, until then my attention had been fixed on Frederick’s face. The photo was strange, a stern older man shorter than the young Frederick gripped Frederick’s shoulder with a self satisfied smirk. On the right side of Frederick was a small thin woman with dark black hair and tan complexion. She was smiling, but barely so. Then I looked at the young Frederick. His hair was gelled back within an inch of its life as he held a sweatshirt with ‘Johns Hopkins School of Medicine’ printed across it. His eyes were bright and youthful but his smile didn't quite reach them. I ran a hand through Frederick’s hair and placed a kiss on his shoulder. 

“I love you.” I whispered against his neck planting series of kisses there as well. 

“You should not. I am broken.” I pulled from him and moved the photo album from his arms, closing it and sliding it back under the couch. I stood only to move to kneel in front of him seconds later. I gathered his soft cheeks in my hands and forced him to look at me. 

“You are not broken. I love you. You are not broken.” I kissed him then hoping my lips would be able to relay my message to him if not by sound than by touch. 

I felt him choke against them and sob, his entire body heaving. He pulled me to him in between his raised knees burying his head in my neck. Goosebumps raised where his hot tears fell an immediate chill coming over me as more landed. I repeated myself over and over, my final mantra becoming ‘I love you’. Soon he spoke it back to me, first barely audible and gravely then more clear and strong. He released his tight hold on me and I moved to look at him. His eyes were red and swollen and his lip still carried a slight tremble. I rubbed over his cheekbones  erasing the trails tears had left down his face. 

“How does a hot bath sound my love…hmm?” I saw a flash of a microscopic smile and I took that as a sign of agreement. I helped him stand on shaky legs before embracing him tightly. He took a deep inhale of my neck and hair before pulling away. He spoke one final ‘I love you’ and our arms wrapped around each other as we began our climb upstairs.

F: We had both fallen asleep with our arms around each other and hair slightly damp from the long bath we had taken. So when I awoke first the next morning I smiled widely upon seeing the disheveled mess her hair had become. A few ringlets of curls had formed and now framed her face which was up turned towards me. I could only imagine the state of my hair. All the grief and pain of last night was forgotten upon seeing her in my arms. 

The cadence of her breath sent a pleasant shiver up my spine and I sighed at ease. I moved my hand on her back to stroke the soft skin that was exposed. She had a habit of squirming out of the covers as she slept and she would wake me murmuring in a dream state sometimes with teeth chattering. I would always retrieve the covers from where she had kicked them and tuck her in once more, pulling her tight against me to warm her. 

I suppose most men would find it an exasperating inconvenience to be woken multiple times a night but I adored it. It made me feel needed and even more protective over her. No doubt she could handle herself during her waking hours but as she slept I became her exclusive guardian and I swore every night that I would die before letting something happen to her. Sometimes when she was especially restless I would hum a song in her ear, soothing her to sleep like a newborn baby.

I treasured the warmth of her palms pressed against my chest and the poke of her little nose in my neck. God I loved her. As I watched the rise and fall of her bare chest I remembered what I had promised her a few days ago. Moving gingerly I pulled my arm from underneath her and rolled out of bed. Taking in one last look of her lying half covered by my black silk sheets I stood and walked to the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Carefully ensuring she didn't see my hiding place for her gifts I extracted the Cartier box and bag in silence. 

Then I stopped and looked at the gift in my hands. Was this enough? Just one gift? I knew I had promised only one but it seemed cheap to give her only one gift. I looked back in the drawer for something equally formal and expensive but came back empty handed. Groaning in frustration I shut the drawer and returned to the bed where I took a seat. Should I wait for her to get up and then give it to her? Should I try to wake her up now? Could I get away with putting it on her in her sleep? Jesus, what had I gotten myself into. Suddenly I saw her hand stretch out into the empty space where I had been a few minutes before. Her fingers smoothed over the surface of the sheets searching for something. I saw her brow furrow and her lips frown though she kept her eyes closed. 

“Baby?” her groggy voice asked small and soft.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks with her use of the endearment. She rarely used it but when she did it wrecked me. 

“Yes my love, I’m right here.” I reached out to stop the hand in its search for me. 

“Come back to bed.” She spoke while pulling at the hand I had placed on hers. Maybe now would be a good time? 

I cleared my throat, “Actually…I um…I have something of yours…” My lack of movement frustrated her and she moved the pulling hand to my leg which was bent half on and off the side of the bed.

 “Hmm?” She attempted to grip my leg but it was too large for her petite hands. She settled run a finger along what she could reach, soon she was tracing little patterns along my skin giving me goosebumps all over. 

“Open your eyes.” I placed the bag near her face with enough distance that she wouldn't go cross eyed the moment she opened her eyes. 

“Freddy…” She whined. God she really wasn't a morning person. I noted that in bold in the files of my mind. 

“Please.” With that word I saw her lips curl into a smile and she opened her eyes slowly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek.

First she looked confused and then she shot up so quickly I jumped from my seat on the bed to stand beside it. She looked at me and then back at the bag, back to me and then the bag. My startled look faded and I motioned towards the bag. She softly mimed opening a gift as if making certain it was what I wanted her to do. I nodded quickly, eager to see her reaction to the bags contents. She removed the white tissue paper from the dark red bag with great care and put a hand to her mouth with a silent gasp. She quickly lowered it again to pull out the jewelry box and place it in between us on the bed. Her wild hair moved back and forth as she shook her head. 

The squeak of the hinges on the box was deafening in my anxiety ridden silence. I watched her eyes most carefully, fearful that she would hate the necklace. She looked at the rose gold jewelry and then back at me. 

“Frederick…you shouldn't have…oh god…its beautiful. The color alone, and the diamond…oh my god Freddy.” My chest felt as if it would burst with the sudden pride racing through it. 

“Do you like it?” I found myself saying. 

She nodded wordlessly before carefully handing the necklace to me and motioning for me to put it on her. I moved closer to her on the bed as she gathered her hair in her hands and moved it from her neck and back. I first placed a kiss on the back of her neck, the newly exposed skin was simply too enticing to ignore. Then upon hearing her sigh happily I reached my arms over her head and fastened the clasp of the necklace. Her hand traced the chain of the necklace on her skin before she turned to me. I moved the bag and box to the bedside table and then refocused my attention on her. She seemed so impossibly elegant, completely nude wearing only my necklace. 

“Oh Frederick…its perfect. I’ve never owned anything this beautiful.” She whispered placing a hand on my cheek. 

I smiled at seeing her so lost for words. Placing a soft kiss on her lips and forehead I laid down once again and pulled my sheets and duvet over myself. She rolled her eyes and pinched my arm gently in annoyance. 

“Now you want to sleep?” Feigning a yawn I nodded my head turning away from her and pressing my face into my pillow in an attempt to hide a grin. 

Suddenly she was on me peppering me with kisses and tickling my arms and sides. I laughed so loudly I was sure the neighbors heard me. She pressed her lips to my neck and blew forcefully at it exacting a loud sound. I laughed hard, my stomach muscles contracting as my chest shook. I grabbed her wandering arms and twirled around pinning her down on the bed. 

Now it was my turn. My hands went immediately to her sides and began their dance which elicited the most delightful sounds from her. Soon she was gasping for air and pulling at my hands trying to stop me from my slow torture, but I was enjoying this too much to let her win. Pressing my lips to the smooth skin of her stomach I repeated what she had done to my neck moments before. Her laughter grew and she wove her fingers in my hair as I kissed over the spot I had offended. I fell to her side after kissing her firmly on the lips and covering both of us with blankets and sheets. She kissed at my neck and chest before nestling into the space below my jaw. I wrapped my arms around her and drew her body inward. Her legs tangled with mine and I sighed contentedly. 

“I love you.” I whispered as I placed a kiss in her hair. 

“I love you too.” A few moments passed and she was back asleep, murmuring and whining quietly against my neck. 

The sounds soothed me into following suit soon after.

F: I woke up to the sound of faint sound of singing. I made my way through the hall and down the foyer stairs to the kitchen. Her back was to me as I entered so I snuck around and took a seat at the bar. She was wearing one of my favorite dress shirts and her hair poured over the back of it in beautiful waves as she swung her hips back and forth. 

“Wild thing…you make my heart sing…you make everything groooovayyyyy. Wild thang…” 

Then she raised a whisk to her mouth as she tightly shut her eyes, “Wild thing I think I love you…but I wanna know for sure…so come on and pull me tight…I loooooovvvee you.” 

My smirk only spread as she kept dancing unaware of my presence directly behind her. She was in the process of making crepes from a mix we had bought at the grocery a few days ago. She had insisted on stocking my cabinets after learning that they were more often empty than full. 

Midway through her second chorus she turned to see me seated at the bar, my face painted with amusement and complete satisfaction. I expected her to stop but she didn’t. Instead she continued a little louder and her dance became more sensual her fingers tracing her hips and sides as she moved smoothly around the kitchen. I grinned again more than happy with the display in front of me. I tucked this memory in the most secure corner of my mind protecting it from the evils that often dwelled there.

So this was a bit of a long one, the characters simply refused to quit. I just want Freddy to be truly happy for a while. He’s suffered enough.