#especially ikea furniture because there's no fucking words in the instructions

[andthebubbles]

weird that i get so tired after midnight now... 

yes this has been a complaint

[thewakeless]

Summary: Dan and Phil decide to live together

Rating: G

Genre: Emotional (kinda soft, kinda sad)

"Why don't you move in for real?" Phil says the words calmly while they lie in bed together, the laptop between them.  

Dan hesitates.  It's a futile conversation, he has spent the last 6 nights at Phil's place. In fact, they both frequently call this "their place" but... "I don't know," he mutters looking at the screen.  

"We wouldn't have to – you know – tell anyone. You could have your own room."

Dan leans his head against his boyfriend's shoulder as if the conversation has worn him out, more than their whole day, more than sex.  Phil kisses the top of his head.

"Tomorrow," he says.

"Yeah," Dan replies closing his eyes.  

-

"Okay." They're on the subway, headed to dinner, a cautious distance between them.  "I'll move in with you," says Dan bracingly, definitively.  

Phil smiles, a goody smile, that's all teeth. "Good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I need you to make rent."

Dan laughs. "Glad I ease financial burdens for you, Phil."

"You ease many burdens for me," he answers his eyes panning down to Dan's crotch.  

"We're in public," Dan hisses, half-horrified, half proud.  

Phil chuckles.  "Too bad."

-

Dan is outstretched on the couch his legs on top of Phil, a laptop on his chest.  "I mean we definitely need a new bed." They were scrolling through the Ikea website.  

"And a TV stand."

"Yeah with room for all games and movies," there's excitement in his voice, but only because he has pushed the panic aside.  

Phil hesitates for a moment.  He wants to go with the good feeling but there's so much else.   "Have you told them yet?"

Dan shakes his head steadily.  

"Tomorrow?"

He shakes his head again.  "Do I have to tell them?"

It breaks his heart how young Dan sounds. He reaches over to grab one of his hands.  He squeezes it because words would never suffice.  

-

Ikea is like a playground for adults.  Dan is amused by how excited Phil gets over shinny bowls and multi-purpose tables.  It also warms his heart that they are actually moving forward with their plans.

"Absolutely not," he says as Phil points to a big shiny chandelier.  

"Why not?"

"Because it's giant, and we're giant, we'd bump our heads."

He rolls his eyes. "A technicality."

The way he says it makes Dan wanna pull him by the t-shirt and make out with him.  Instead, he makes an exaggerated frown. "Be serious or we'll be here forever."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," says Phil as he takes a tentative bounce on a purpose chair.  

The corners of Dan's mouth twitch into a smile. "You idiot."

-

The new bed has arrived along with the cheapest mattress available and Ikea's notoriously cryptic instructions. They sit cross-legged on the floor, drunk off giggles, trying to build the frame with absolutely no sense of logistics or depth.  

"It has to be this way," Dan says, laying out the two longest panels vertically.  

Phil looks over the top of the instructions. "But where do the nails fit in?"

"Mmm," Dan studies the closest plank of wood until he finds a small indentation.  "Here maybe?"

"But then the unpainted side is showing. That can't be right, can it?"

Dan looks from it to the instruction in Phil's hands.  "God, how should I know? I'm too gay for this." The words come out in a thoughtless mesh, and then both boys freeze.  

Phil wants to make another joke but he can see Dan growing paler, and knowns it isn't the time. "Why don't we take a little break? You can sleep with me tonight."

Dan nods.

"Wanna watch Attack on Titan?"

"Okay." There's a sick sensation a the pit of his stomach.  

-

It takes a full 3 months of cohabitation before the Howells come for a visit.  The week leading up they spend cleaning everything, scrubbing each surface, sweeping the kitchen, vacuuming the couch.  He has never seen Dan this nervous, or this agitated.  Every day new fights creep up between them, always petty, always stupid, but no matter what every evening Dan crawls into bed with him.

On the night before the visit Dan is especially quiet.  "You okay?"

He has arms crossed over his chest, his eyes staring straight at the screen in front of them, unblinking but unfocused. "Can I say something really fucked up?"

Phil stiffens, and gives a curt nod.  

"Sometimes I really wish you were a girl."

The words are a slap in the face.  A denial of everything he is, of everything they have. For a moment he feels rage inside himself.  How fucking dare he? But before he can even open his mouth Dan has broken down into sobs, his head in his hands.  And then Phil feels nothing but compassion, sadness.  

He puts an arm around him, and whispers consoling things in his ear.  

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Dan says, his head against Phil's shoulder.

-

The afternoon with his family passes surprisingly quickly. They order take out, play a board game. Phil makes casual references to a girlfriend, Dan invents a female classmate by the name of Samantha and brings her up more often than necessary.  They are casual, careful not to stare too long, not to be too close, not to pay too much attention to each other.  When they are alone again they stay on the couch, quiet, thoughtful.  

"That wasn't so bad," says Phil.

"It was horrible," says Dan, looking like he might cry.  

Phil shifts on the sofa.  "Do you wanna be alone."

He shakes his head.  Phil was about to suggest they watch a movie when Dan interjects: "Thank you for doing this."

"Supporting you? That's what partners do."

"You're literally pretending to have a girlfriend for me. Don't brush that off."

"I'm not- I'm just saying – I'd do a lot more for you."

Dan analyses him for a moment, as if trying to discern a lie, but evidently unable to do so he closes his eyes and leans his body against Phil's.  "I'm so tired."

"Yeah."

"I don't want them to come over again.  Next time we'll go to a restaurant.  I want this place to be for us, and our shitty furniture.  No pretending."

Phil pulls him into a hug.  "We can arrange that."

He can feel the tension in Dan's body. The fear that grips him made physical.  "Bed?" he suggests.

Dan nods, and takes his hand.  

"Thanks a lot for doing this for me," he says as they walk to the bedroom.  

Phil pulls him back and stares into his eyes. He wants Dan to really hear him, to really believe him.  "I'm doing this for us,"  he says.

There's a faint smile on Dan's face and he squeezes Phil's hand.  "You're a man of incredible faith."

"Only for the things that matter."

They hug in the passage and then climb into bed together.  It doesn't take long for Dan to fall asleep, but Phil lies awake for a long time.  

He is 100% sure that he would do this all again. That he would play this role for the rest of his life if he has to.  That it is a minor price to pay for everything that Dan brings into his life. He turns over, looking at Dan asleep, and calm at last.  He moves close to the warmth of his body and kisses his cheek.  "I love you," he mutters in the dark.  

[fightmewiatch]

Just Knock

Character: Frank Adler (Gifted) x OFC (Jules)

Word Count: 3,014

Warnings: None. Fluff. Like, one swear, whatever.

A/N: Look, this is all @n3shama‘s fault, she has to accept it. XD I just watched Gifted, and if you haven’t seen it, you need to, it’s so good, and Chris Evans is phenomenal. This is set after the movie, technically. Not for any reason really, just because I said so. Lol.  (...honestly, this is also Chris’ fault, for being phenomenal. Fuck.)

           Despite the warmth of the sun overhead, the box was still cold from the temperature drop overnight, as she tugged it open, and peered inside at her mail. The sound of her name made her turn, curious, before smiling at the dark haired woman approaching, jingling key ring in her fingers.

“Hey, Roberta,” she greeted her, turning and pulling out a few envelopes, tipping her head to the side to be sure she had everything.

“Morning, sweetheart. Mail come early? That’s unusual,” Roberta commented, as she laughed.

“No, I just forgot to grab it yesterday,” she replied, closing the door, and twisting the lock. She lifted her head at the motion in the corner of her eye, blushing at the man coming up to them, tapping his phone. Roberta turned, seeing the sudden change on her face, and grinned.

“Frank! Good, you’re here.” He looked up, curious, and smiled at her, before twisting to see the house behind them.

“Of course I’m here, Roberta, it’s Wednesday - pancakes before school,” he replied as though it was obvious, chuckling as he motioned over his shoulder. “Just waiting for the slow poke.” Both women turned to see the young blonde barrelling out of the house, bag clutched tightly in her hand. “Hey, c’mon, Mar.”

“Roberta!” she grinned, hugging the woman, who grinned, and hugged her back.

“Good! You’re both here! This is Jules, she just moved in across the way,” Roberta introduced, motioning towards the faded yellow house down the path. Julie blushed a bit more, waving at them both. “Jules, this is Frank, and his niece Mary.”

“It’s a pleasure,” she insisted, as Frank wiped his hand on his overshirt, chuckling as he reached for her hand.

“Pleasure’s ours. Obviously we’re right there. I don’t remember seeing any moving trucks or anything,” he admitted, as Jules shook her head.

“There weren’t anything...just...me, and what fit in my car,” she admitted, with a shrug. Frank hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter, as he shrugged.

“It happens. Uh, look, I gotta get this little rascal some pancakes, and then get her off to school. But if you need anything? Roberta is the best landlord I’ve ever had,” he replied, as Jules laughed, as Roberta scoffed.

“Damn right.”

“I’m sorry. Mary, it’s nice to meet you,” Jules replied, smiling down at the young blonde, who peered up at her curiously, before smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” 

“I love your backpack,” she admitted, motioning to the blue, pink, and purple bag as Mary shrugged it onto her shoulder, and pressed her hand into Frank’s much larger palm.

“I do too. My favorite colors.” Jules smiled, nodding.

“Mine’s green, but, honestly, there’s very few colors I don’t like,” Jules replied, making Mary smile. “I won’t keep you guys, but it was great to meet you.”

“You too, Jules,” Frank replied, taking a few steps away, before pausing, and turning. “And, uh...if you need help hauling anything in, like I said, we’re right there, and I’m usually back with her after school.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked over, nodding.

“Good to know. Thank you.” With a wave, Frank led Mary off to his truck, and Jules turned back to Roberta with a huff. “You are not subtle. I like you very much, and you are absolutely better than every place I’ve ever lived, but you are not subtle.”

“The boy needs a woman’s touch, and there’s only so much I can give.”

“...that sounded so weird, Roberta, but I’m going to ignore that. I need to go throw my mail in a box, and go to work, please don’t use this day to figure out how to set me up with Frank.” Roberta’s laugh followed her the rest of the walk back to her place.

           Jules found herself bumping into Frank a lot, and not just at the mailbox. He was surprised the first time he bumped into her at the hardware store, but after that, he just helped her haul things out to her car, a car about as old as his pickup that runned too roughly to be comfortable, but Jules didn’t bat an eye.

           A couple of months after she moved in, Jules found herself at Frank’s door, a hammer in her hand, her hair yanked back in a messy bun. She hesitated a couple times, hand raised before she dropped it to her side, taking a step back. She didn’t even get her knuckles to the door before it cracked open, and Mary peered out at her, brow furrowed.

“...hey, Mary.”

“...Hi, Jules...is everything okay?” she asked, curious, turning sharply at the sound of her name, before the door yanked open a bit, and Frank appeared, barefoot, in jeans and a threadbare t-shirt.

           And just like that, Jules forgot why she was actually standing there, instead, blushing like a madwoman.

“...oh, hi, Jules. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you. Everything okay, why are you carrying a hammer?” She frowned, looking down in surprise, before laughing softly, and putting her free hand over her eyes, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, um...I know it’s...I know I just kind of...I don’t know what I was going to say. Um, I need an extra set of hands, and, I was wondering if I could...maybe borrow you?” she asked, sheepish, biting her lip. He stared out at her, curious, before smiling, glancing over his shoulder at the clock.

“...yeah, let me put on shoes, I’ll drop Mary over with Roberta for a little while.”

“Okay...sorry, about the hammer, I forgot I had it in my hand. Uh, I’ll just...just let yourself in?” she suggested, hopping off the step, as he smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, no problem. Be there in a minute.”

           He could hear her swearing as he let himself in the door, pulling it shut behind him, and instead of calling out, he following the sounds, stepping over abandoned remnants of boxes, until he reached the room in the back, where was leaning against the wall, hammer dangling in her fingers as she huffed, and glared at the pieces of wood on the floor.

“...you look like it offended you.” Her eyes lifted, as she snorted.

“Maybe it did. I don’t speak Swedish,” she grumbled, kicking her foot out against the box propped up on the wall. Frank frowned, before he saw the IKEA symbol, and laughed.

“Seriously? IKEA?”

“Hey, I told you, everything has to fit in my car, and a full sized, assembled bed would never fit in my car,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t even need to read the directions, I follow the pictures just fine, but I can’t actually hold the two pieces of wood while positioning the nail and hammering it into place.” Jules hesitated, shrugging. “Or maybe I could, if I learned how to hammer with my feet.”

           His laugh made her blush, before he motioned her towards the pieces.

“Alright, show me what we’re doing, and gimme the hammer.”

“Is it because I forgot I was holding it?”

“It is absolutely because you forgot you were holding it, but it happens.” Jules laughed, turning to look at the directions, missing the way Frank studied her face, her smile, before clearing his throat, and looking down at the corner in her grasp.

           It felt like ages before the frame was completed, and as Jules stepped back to let Frank move it against the wall, she grinned, clapping her hands.

“God, I was so tired of sleeping in my chair. Thank you so much, Frank, for helping me,” she told him, as he dusted off his hands, and stepped back by her.

“Well, it’s bullshit to sleep in a chair, so, you are very welcome. I know you can’t fit things in your car, but there’s this great secondhand shop in town,” he told her, turning his head as she peered up, curious, “and I’ve got a pickup.”

“...are you offering to help, or loan?”

“Help, I honestly don’t know if the truck will start unless I’m in the driver’s seat,” he told her, as she laughed, patting his arm.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, I...hm...I gotta thank you for helping me with that,” she said, pursing her lips as she headed for the kitchen. With a quick glance at the mostly empty bedroom, Frank jogged after her, shaking his head.

“You don’t, really. I spend the day with my hands in engines, it’s nice to use my hands on something that won’t blow up on me.” Jules turned to see him, brow quirked. “...although the instructions were in Swedish, maybe there was something in there about the bed blowing up.” Hearing her laugh so loud made him grin, and reach up to scratch his beard, as she shook her head, and turned to open her fridge.

“So...I don’t...have anything. Sort of sustained myself on takeout for a few months,” she admitted, shaking her head, before turning to see him, and glancing at the clock. “But...it’s still early?”

“Jules, you don’t have to pay me back or anything. I saved you from teaching yourself how to hammer with your feet, it was fun,” Frank insisted.

“No, I know,” she laughed, “but...I don’t know, I stole you from Mary for a couple hours, and I kinda feel bad. Especially knowing I might need to ask for your help again, because as you can see, I have...very little furniture,” she admitted, motioning around. He didn’t need to look, having caught sight on his way in, but he let his eyes scan her features as she looked around, almost sad for a brief second, before it was gone. “But, uh...it’s...I mean, you can say no, but I can cook, and it’s still early, I can go grab things, and…” Jules stopped, ducking her head as she laughed, shaking her head.

“What?”

“I just tried to invite myself over to make you dinner, I didn’t realize how it sounded before I started talking.” Frank laughed, shaking his head.

“Honestly, we eat simply, you know? Mac & Cheese, stuff like that.”

“...does she prefer the box, or have you ever had homemade?” Frank looked intrigued at that, and Jules laughed, looking around and grabbing her bag. “Tell you what. I’ll surprise you...but what about you, Frank? Favorite food?” she asked, leading him out of her apartment, and locking the door behind her.

“...I eat what she eats.” Jules narrowed her eyes, before smiling, and nodding.

“Beer?”

“Yup.” With a laugh, she patted his arm, heading towards her car.

“Okay. I will be...right back.”

“Just knock and come in,” he told her, smiling, as he headed for Roberta’s, pausing at the sound of his name.

“...Roberta’s invited, if she wants.” With a soft laugh, he waved, moving to Roberta’s door, as Jules jogged towards her car.

           By the time Jules got back, Frank was on the couch with Roberta, Mary between them, UFC playing on the TV. With a soft laugh, she dropped her bag to the table, stuffing the six pack in the fridge, save for one can she tucked in the freezer to chill faster, as she unpacked the things she’d picked up.

“I put a pan of water on the stove for you,” Frank told her, startling her as she jumped and looked over. “Sorry.”

“No, I just didn’t hear you, you’re fine. Uh...so I didn’t think about it before I bought it, I don’t know if you guys have any allergies, but I grabbed, um...I grabbed some brownies,” Jules told him, sliding the container of brownies towards him.

“Ooh, brownies,” he whistled, grabbing the container and looking back to be sure Mary didn’t hear them, before tucking them into the fridge. “After dinner.” Laughing, she nodded, pushing her hair off her face.

“Do you have a...like a sauce pan?” she asked, curious, looking over at him. With a shrug, Frank moved around her, digging into one of the cabinets before pulling out one large and one small.

“I have two.”

“...smaller,” she decided, “thanks.”

“So what exactly do you do?” Jules looked over, curious, and shrugged.

“I boil the pasta, make a cheese sauce with the cheese and the milk and some butter, and mix it.” Frank hummed appreciatively, before clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

“I...didn’t ask it right, I meant, uh...what do you...you know...do.” For a moment, she just stared at him, curious, before it dawned on her, and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Nope, yep, I gotcha. I’m catching up. Um, I am a paralegal...which is the title the gave me, but really I’m just a glorified file clerk,” Jules admitted, chuckling, shaking her head. “But, the wage is decent enough that I can afford to live here, and save up, and buy a bed,” she replied with a shrug. “So...I will take glorified file clerk.”

“What does a glorified file clerk do, exactly?” he asked, curious, ignoring the smirk from Roberta in the other room, as he dug into the drawer, before handing her a whisk.

“Thank you,” Jules smiled, before dropping the butter into the saucepan, and flipping on the water to boil. “Means I keep the files organized, and I keep a log of who has what file, what is in each file, and if anything is taken, it’s replaced. I answer to everyone in that office, but when it comes to getting a file back, they answer to me, and oh, that’s a fun feeling,” she teased, as Frank laughed, leaning against the counter to watch her.

           Dinner became almost normal. Jules would ask for Frank’s help - moving, building, something - and come over to make him and Mary dinner. She loved spending time with them, loved getting to know them (and ignoring Roberta’s little winks when she walked by), and loved cooking for people. Frank loved having someone who wanted to cook, considering he didn’t do much beyond eggs and toast, although he did it well.

           It was a few weeks before Jules showed up to make dinner as a thank you for Frank helping her unpack her boxes of books into her two new bookcases, only to show up and find Frank the only one home.

“Where’s Mary?” she asked, already setting her bags down.

“Uh…she’s with Roberta tonight,” Frank told her, rubbing the back of his neck, as he shuffled into the kitchen. Humming and shrugging, Jules unpacked the bag, turning her head to see him. She hesitated, eyes falling to his nice clean jeans, different from the worn ones he usually put on when she came by, and the button up he had on instead of one of his threadbare tees. “What?”

“...you look really nice tonight, did you have a date?” Jules asked, trying to ignore the swing of her stomach as he chuckled, looking down at himself.

“Actually, I uh…”

“Oh...I’m sorry, I...I just, you know, habit, you help, I cook. But, I can leave this stuff for you guys? And...cook it another time?” she suggested, rambled, biting her lip as she started moving the groceries into the fridge.

           Jules missed him moving until his hand caught her elbow, gentle, just to stop her, as she turned to see him, brow furrowed.

“...I technically have a date...but I don’t know that she realizes that’s kind of what this is,” Frank murmured, studying her as she felt the heat rise in her face. This close, his eyes were the prettiest shade of blue she’d ever seen, something that honestly almost made her blush darker, as she shifted her feet.

“...oh?”

“Yeah...see, there’s this...woman...met her a few months ago, she’s really nice, but she’s really quiet,” Frank started, chuckling a bit as she fought a smile. “I didn’t wanna make a move, mainly because Roberta spent the month before I met her telling me how perfect she was for me. I just figured Roberta was crazy - I mean, it’s Roberta.”

“Good point,” Jules agreed, the two chuckling softly.

“But then I met this...stunning woman at the mailbox, and she’s funny, and has the prettiest blush,” he admitted, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. “And she showed up at my door one afternoon absentmindedly holding a hammer.”

“Hey.”

“You did, don’t lie.” Jules rolled her eyes, breath catching as Frank’s hands dragged over her shoulders, up her neck, to cup her jaw, one thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “And then she started cooking dinner for us. Best meals we’ve had that were cooked in this house in a long time...like...ever.”

“...really?” she asked softly, as he nodded.

“I make eggs and toast. That’s it, that’s my ability. So homemade mac & cheese? Scalloped potatoes and ham? Jules, you got Mary to eat fish. I can’t even do that.” She laughed, shaking her head. “And I was getting out of the shower after I helped you with the bookcase...and I realized...we’ve been having dinner together at least once a week for a few weeks. That’s a date.” Jules studied his face, as he looked down at her, but he saw her smile slowly fall to a frown, brow pulling down into a slightly disgruntled look. “What?”

“So that means we’ve gone on...what? Five? Six dates? At least?”

“At least,” he affirmed, watching her hands perch on her hips.

“Then you are either a terrible date, or a prude, Mr. Adler, because in six dates, you haven’t once tried to ki-”

His lips pressed against hers before she could finish the sentence, the words lost between them, replaced with the softest moan as her hands moved to his sides as she shuffled a little closer to him. With a gentle drag of his teeth against her bottom lip, Frank pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

“...Roberta is watching Mary tonight, so we can have an actual date…” he murmured.

“Oh thank God,” she breathed, pulling him in to seal another kiss to his lips, wrapping her arms around him as he drew her in closer, tasting the words on her tongue.