#9 I Laughed So Hard I Nearly Cried (Fullmetal Alchemist, Archer/Kimbly)
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Archer/Kimbly
Author: forchancookie
Artist: tomoe_daeva
Theme: #9 I Laughed So Hard I Nearly Cried
Summary: Frank Archer isn't gay, but somehow he can't stay away from the handsome and persistent Kimblee.
Warnings: AU, NC-17, Yaoi
I Laughed So Hard I Nearly Cried
Frank tried to avoid the hard gaze of the man sitting across from him on the train. The weight of his stare was disturbing. At first, he'd thought the man was staring at the woman sharing the seat with him, but that notion was dashed when she got off and the man continued to stare. Though he was wearing a nice suit and holding a briefcase, Frank got the impression that this man would look more comfortable in a trench coat as he stood in the shadows waiting for his next victim. He shuddered at the thought. Luckily, he was transferring trains at the next station.
He stood, clutching his backpack nervously. While he knew that the Victoria's Secret bag inside of his backpack was not visible, the other man's stare unsettled him. It had been nerve wracking enough shopping for his underwear today. It was inevitable that a man in a lingerie store get strange looks, but he always felt so aware of their eyes. It was worse now with this man staring at him as if he could see through his clothes to the secret underneath. It made his stomach turn with nervousness and his body tense and jumpy.
As the train pulled to a stop, Frank tried to shake off his thoughts. He headed for the waiting train across the platform and spotted an empty bench next to the window. He slid in the seat, moving over to make room for someone else. As he looked up at the rest of the train, he noticed the man that had been staring at him step on. The man looked around and spotted him. A smile twisted his face as he began to move down the aisle towards Frank.
As the man approached, the seat dipped next to him and an arm slung around his shoulder. "Hey baby, you never called me back!"
Frank blinked and turned to look at the person who had settled beside him. He had startling golden eyes, slick black hair, and a wide grin. The newcomer flicked his gaze to the stalker, staring at him pointedly. With a frown, the man passed by their seat and headed into the next car. Frank sighed in relief.
"You have to watch out for that guy. He likes to hassle pretty young men like yourself," Frank's seat mate said.
"Oh, um...thank you." He fought back a blush. He was not pretty. Men were not pretty.
The man grinned. "No problem. The name's Kimblee. Zolf J. Kimblee, but everyone just calls me Kimblee." He offered Frank his hand.
"Frank Archer," he replied, shaking his hand.
Kimblee nodded. "Are you new to the area Frank?"
"Yes. I just moved here recently."
"Like it so far?"
"Except for strange stalking men on the train? It's nice."
Kimblee chuckled. "Yeah. You have to watch out for that. There's a lot of strange people on the trains."
"I'll keep that in mind," Frank said.
"So, you have a boyfriend?" Kimblee asked.
Frank stiffened. "I'm straight."
Kimblee tilted his head and looked at Frank. A smile split his face before he burst out laughing. Some of the other passengers glanced at them as Kimblee continued to laugh carelessly. He put a hand to his face, covering his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.
Frank's face turned red as he glared at the other man. "I am," he insisted, loudly.
Kimblee wiped at his eyes and nodded, still chuckling. "Yes. Ok."
Frank turned away, staring out of the window into the dark tunnel. He couldn't decide whether he was more insulted or hurt by the man's laughter.
"Look, Frank. I'm sorry." Kimblee said soothingly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was just wishful thinking on my part."
For some reason, the blush raced up his cheeks again. "It's fine," he said gruffly. The truth was, he got that response more than he liked to admit.
"So, you're straight? No way I could possibly entice you out for a date?" Kimblee asked, leaning towards him.
"N-no." Frank pressed himself back against the window.
Kimblee tsked. "That's a shame. You're just my type."
"I'm sorry, but you're not mine." Frank looked up as the train operator announced his stop. He quickly stood up. "Excuse me, this is where I get off."
Kimblee looked disappointed. "Can I get your number at least? I could show you around."
"I appreciate the offer, but no."
With a sigh, Kimblee stood and let Frank out of the seat. "Maybe I'll see you around."
"Maybe," Frank replied flatly as he walked towards the door. Once he was off the train, he checked behind him to make sure he wasn't followed. Luckily, Kimblee stayed on the train, though Frank did notice him watching as the train left the station. He shivered uncomfortably and hurried down the stairs.
Frank walked home swiftly, frequently checking over his shoulder just in case. Two brush ins with strange men left him unsettled. He sighed as he stepped into his apartment and locked the door. He shed his backpack and dragged it into his bedroom where it got tossed on the bed. He slid off his shoes and collapsed across his comforter. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, he turned over and opened his backpack, drawing out the pink lingerie bag.
He started to pull out his purchases, laying them out on the bed. He'd bought varying shades and styles of panties, all in his size. While he knew that he wasn't gay, he did enjoy the delicate intricacy of a pair of women's underwear. The materials, the colors, the texture and the decoration had always drew him. When he'd moved out on his own and began doing his own laundry, his choice of undergarments had changed dramatically from the old cotton briefs that his mother would buy him. His underwear was the most colorful part of his wardrobe. His outer shell was fashionable, yet conservative, so he couldn't figure out why men like Kimblee kept hitting on him. He didn't think he looked gay.
He sighed and shook his head to clear away such thoughts. He reached for his cell phone and frowned. He was sure he'd put it in his right coat pocket. He searched the other pocket, then patted down his pants, then dumped over his backpack, searching frantically for his phone. It wasn't there. He cursed and grabbed the cordless phone on his dresser. He dialed his number and listened carefully, hoping to hear his ring tone.
"Hello? Frank?"
Frank blinked. "H-hello?"
"Ah, so this is yours. This is Kimblee. You dropped your phone on the train."
"Oh."
"I'm guessing that you want this back."
"Yes, of course."
"I'm also guessing that you won't give me your address to return it and the chances of having you come to my place are non-existent."
Frank snorted softly. "You'd be correct."
"Then how about we do it this way? There's a nice little deli just off the Langford stop. You meet me there for lunch tomorrow and I'll give you your phone back."
Frank could hear the triumphant grin in the other man's voice. He could just imagine the look of glee on his face from having the leverage to get Frank out on a date with him. He thought about arguing, but he needed his phone. It was effectively held hostage by the other man. "What's the name of it?"
"Petrelli's Deli. Just leave the station, take a right and walk up the sidewalk. It's the place with the tables on the sidewalk."
"And what time should I meet you?"
"11:30. We'll beat the crowd that way."
Frank nodded to himself. "Then I'll see you tomorrow at 11:30 and you'll give me my phone?"
"Of course, but only after you enjoy lunch with me. My treat of course."
"Of course," he replied sourly.
"All right. It's a date then. See you tomorrow Frank."
Frank stood there listening to the dead line for a minute before he put down the phone. He couldn't believe that he got tricked into going to lunch with that man.
~*~
Frank stepped off of the train at 11:10. He left the station and took a right. Up ahead he could see the deli that Kimblee had described. In fact, he saw Kimblee lounging at one of the tables. Kimblee spotted him a moment later and stood up, waving.
"You made it. Come on, have a seat." He gestured to the chair across from him.
"Do you have my phone?" Frank asked.
"What a greeting. Yes, I have your phone, but you can't have it till after lunch. You'll run away if I give it to you now." Kimblee grinned.
Frank sat down and frowned.
Kimblee continued to grin. "Don't be like that, you'll get your phone. I just want a nice little chat and some lunch."
"You're holding me hostage," Frank pointed out.
"Don't think of it like that. You make it sound like I'm doing something wrong." Kimblee sat back in his chair, calmly countering Frank's accusation.
"Aren't you? You won't give me my phone back."
Kimblee sighed. "Fine, if I give it back to you, will you stay and have lunch with me?"
Frank looked around and then at Kimblee before nodding. "I'll stay." He might as well get a free lunch for going all the way out there.
Kimblee beamed. "Great! They have a really good roasted lamb sandwich." He produced Frank's phone from his pocket and slid it across the table.
"Thank you." Frank picked up his phone and looked it over. Everything appeared to be in order. He slid it into his pocket and picked up the menu on the table. "They have lamb here?"
"Yes. It's delicious."
Frank nodded. "I think I'll try that."
"Great." Kimblee flagged down the waiter and they placed their orders. Once the waiter had dropped off their drinks, Kimblee turned his attention back to Frank. "So Frank, what brings you out to Central? Where did you move from?"
"My job brought me here."
"What do you do?" Kimblee asked, resting his elbows on the table.
"I'm a personal assistant."
He nodded. "I work for an advertising agency. I'm in the entertainment division. We promote a lot of plays and concerts. If there's ever a show in town that you want to see, call me up and I can get you tickets."
"That's very nice, thank you." He doubted that he'd ever see the man again after this. After all, he was just here for his phone.
Kimblee continued to make small talk while Frank tried to keep his answers short and polite. Luckily, their food arrived to break up the questioning. Frank was glad to finally focus on something other than Kimblee. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He was surprised by the taste. It was good and he said as much to Kimblee.
"I told you so." Kimblee grinned before turning his attention to his own food.
Frank found himself staring as the man delicately ate his sandwich. For some reason, he'd thought he would tear into it. Kimblee glanced up and raised an eyebrow. Frank blushed and turned his attention back to his own food. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd never found people eating interesting before. So why now?
Kimblee finished off his sandwich and carefully wiped his mouth. Frank noticed that now, he was the one being watched. He licked some mayonnaise from his lip nervously. Kimblee smiled. Frank looked down at his sandwich. The juicy lamb was dripping down his fingers.
"You're dripping," Kimblee said, reaching out with his napkin to wipe at Frank's wrist.
"Thanks," Frank mumbled.
"No problem." Kimblee sat back. Frank could hear the tinkle of ice in his glass as the man took a sip of his iced tea.
Frank continued to work at his food, but the silence was getting tho him. He knew that Kimblee was staring at him. He needed some sort of distraction.
"So Frank, you're a fan of the Military Dogs?" Kimblee asked.
Frank looked up, surprised. "How did you know?"
"Your ring tone. It's Fullmetal by the Dogs."
"Oh."
"They're coming to town next week. They have a show at the Devil's Nest." Kimblee said.
Frank nodded. "I know, but it's sold out and the scalper prices are too much."
"I have tickets."
The sandwich froze halfway to Frank's mouth. "What?"
"I have tickets. I told you, I work for an advertising agency. We were contracted to do the advertising for the tour, so I have two tickets to the show." Kimblee grinned at Frank's shocked, but hungry expression. "Wanna go? You'd have to go with me, but you'd be on the third row."
"You really have tickets?" Frank asked.
Kimblee nodded. "I really have tickets."
Frank looked at him thoughtfully. He didn't want to encourage the man, but he would really like to see Dogs of the Military in concert. They were his favorite band. In the end, his desire to see them won out. "I'll go. As long as you don't try to turn it into another date."
"Another date?" Kimblee asked.
"Yes. Like this forced date."
"You consider this a date?" Kimblee grinned.
"No, I consider this more of a hostage situation."
He chuckled. "Well that's an interesting way of looking at it. I've never had anyone so desperate to get away from me."
"I'm not exactly here by choice," Frank reminded him.
"But you're not having a bad time are you? And there are fringe benefits."
"That may be, but I'm still not gay."
Kimblee laughed. "All right. You're not gay, but you really can't blame me for trying. You are very handsome."
"And you don't know when to quit." Frank quickly finished his food. "Thanks for lunch," he said as he wiped his chin and brushed a few stray crumbs from his shirt.
"You're leaving already?" Kimblee asked.
Frank nodded. "I was just here for the phone."
"What about the concert? You don't want to plan that out?"
Frank paused as he realized that he was yet again trapped. If he wanted to see the concert, he had to stay and entertain Kimblee's whims. "Fine, I'll stay, but only for a few more minutes."
Kimblee grinned triumphantly. "A few minutes is fine with me."
~*~
Frank, grudgingly, allowed Kimblee to pick him up to go to the concert. When he walked out of his apartment complex to find a limo waiting, he was shocked. Kimblee was leaning against the sleek black car, grinning as usual.
"What is this?" Frank asked, waving at the car.
"Our chariot my dear."
"I thought you had a car."
Kimblee shook his head. "I just rent them when I need them. And I always rent the best."
"You're insane."
He shrugged as he opened the door of the limo. "You say that now, but we'll have a much easier time getting in and out in this car than if we drove ourselves. There is logic in the madness, I promise."
"If you say so." He carefully climbed into the limo, looking around. It was his second time in a limo. The first time was for his cousin's shot gun wedding when he was 12. This one was a lot fancier.
Kimblee climbed into the car and sat next to a mini bar. "Champagne?"
"Does it cost more if we open it?" Frank asked.
Kimblee chuckled. "Don't worry about that. We're just here to have a good time." He opened the bottle and poured a glass of the sparkling liquid for Frank.
"Thank you." He took the glass. It had a delicate sweetness that encouraged him to have seconds. He had a pleasant buzz by the time they reached the arena. He felt a lot more relaxed in Kimblee's presence, which was a plus.
Just as Kimblee had predicted, they had no trouble getting in with their luxury wheels. The seats were great. The music was amazing and better yet, Kimblee had managed to get him back stage to meet the band. Frank almost would have called it the best date ever, except that it wasn't a date.
He ended up sitting on a couch talking with the Military Dogs' bassist, Riza Hawkeye, while Kimblee chatted with a small group of people across the room. Riza was beautiful and intelligent and their conversation was interesting, but somehow, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering over to Kimblee. It seemed every time he glanced over, the man was being overly friendly with another person.
"Worried about your boyfriend?" Riza asked, grinning.
"Wh-what? No! He's not. We're not," Frank babbled, his face heating up.
"Ah. Not yet anyway?" Riza asked, looking from Frank to Kimblee.
"No," Frank said, embarrassed that she misunderstood like this.
"Don't worry, he's watching you when you're not looking too. I'm sure it won't be long before you get together."
Frank just nodded dumbly, too embarrassed to try and correct her again. Instead, he picked up another drink from the waiter serving the little after party and attempted to erase her comments from his mind. By the time she excused herself to feed her dog, Frank realized that he'd had about two drinks too many as the room was wavering slightly. As the rest of the band trickled away to eat and sleep, Kimblee returned to collect Frank. He was careful to keep an arm around Frank's waist as they wobbled back to the limo.
The ride back was quiet as Frank stared out the window, thinking about Riza's words. He knew that Kimblee liked him, but he didn't like the other man! He didn't want to get together with him. He wasn't gay! He was straight. He hadn't dated in high school, but once he got to college, he met a nice girl at the library and they dated for three years. They broke up when she graduated and moved, but later on a friend had told him that she claimed he didn't satisfy her in bed. He hadn't dated since then, but that didn't mean he was gay. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He woke with a start as someone shook him and called his name.
"Frank. Wake up, we're at your apartment."
Frank opened his eyes blearily and stared up at the blurry form over him.
"C'mon Frank, time to go home."
"Home?" Frank murmured as he was pulled into a sitting position.
"Yes. Come on, I'll walk you up." Kimblee backed out of the car, making sure that Frank came with him.
Drunk and half asleep, Frank leaned heavily against Kimblee.
"Which of these buildings are we going to?" Kimblee asked as they headed up the walkway.
"Um....B."
Kimblee nodded. "And what's your number?"
"325."
They headed into the building and Kimblee got Frank into the elevator. Frank rested his head on Kimblee's shoulder and wondered what cologne the man wore. It smelled nice. The chime of the elevator interrupted his contemplation as he was guided out into the hall to his doorway. Frank stood, staring at his door until Kimblee asked for his keys. He fumbled, but managed to pull them out of his pocket and drop them. With a chuckle, Kimblee knelt down to pick them up and get the door open.
Kimblee guided Frank into the apartment, looking around with interest. "Where's your bedroom?" He asked.
"This way." Frank slipped away from Kimblee and headed down the hall, through his living room and disappeared through a doorway.
Kimblee followed and found Frank sprawled on his bed with his shoes on. He smiled and walked over, working the shoes off of his feet. "You're going to mess up your sheets," he said, setting the shoes on the floor.
"I'm tired." Frank sighed, turning over to look at Kimblee.
He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah. Best date ever," he said through a yawn.
Kimblee blinked. "Date?"
"Mmm." Frank agreed.
"I thought you said-"
"You smell nice," Frank interrupted, sitting up slowly. He rested his head on Kimblee's shoulder, inhaling.
"Thank you," Kimblee said quietly, as though saying it louder would cause Frank to jump away.
Frank nuzzled his neck before looking up at him with a glazed look. Kimblee stared back like a mouse facing down a snake ad Frank leaned in and clumsily pressed their lips together. Surprised as he was, Kimblee couldn't help but kiss him back. Frank pressed forward, adding a slip of tongue to the kiss. This wasn't bad. It was just a kiss, like all the other kisses he'd ever had before, but with a man instead. He continued to deepen the kiss, slowly trying to process it.
Kimblee groaned and pushed him away. "Frank, you're killing me."
Frank licked his lips and looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"Because you're drunk." He tried to push him down onto the the mattress.
Frank went easily, but not before grabbing Kimblee to drag him along. Kimblee's head bumped into his, but he ignored it as he sought out his mouth again. He got in another kiss causing Kimblee to moan.
"Frank, stop." Kimblee held him down as he pulled away.
"Why?"
Kimblee sighed and shook his head. "You're not gay. You were very insistent upon this point when sober."
"So?" Frank tilted his head.
"So, I like you Frank. I also respect you. I'm not gonna do anything with you that'll make you hate yourself in the morning and ruin my chances with you."
Frank stared at him, slowly thinking over his words. "You're a good guy," he said slowly.
"Yeah. I know. Too good for my own good," he sighed as he stood up.
"You're leaving me?" Frank reached out to him.
"Yeah. The limo's waiting." He took Frank's hand and placed it back on the bed. "I'll call you tomorrow though." He had to tug his hand away from Frank's in order to flee before he did something stupid. "Good night," he said as he stepped out of the room.
~*~
Frank woke slowly. He tried to keep his eyes shut against the light that streamed into his room. There was a headache throbbing in his temples to the tune of "War" by the Military Dogs. As much as he loved the band, he really wanted the racket to calm down. He managed to coax his body out of bed and into the bathroom where he swallowed some painkillers and stripped out of his clothes. He wondered at the whiff of cologne on his shirt, but shrugged it off as he tossed the shirt in the hamper and stepped into the shower. After spending some time under the warm spray, he felt considerably more human.
Frank dried off and headed into the bedroom in search of clothes. He pulled on a pair of flannel patterned panties trimmed with lace and a matching set of pajama pants. He grabbed a white t-shirt and slid it on, ready for a nice day of lounging around the house. He walked into the kitchen to start his coffeepot when the phone rang. With a sigh, he detoured towards the phone and answered it.
"Hey Frank, how ya feeling this morning?" Kimblee asked.
Frank sighed. He really didn't want to talk to the man now. He knew that he did something stupid last night and he didn't want to deal with the aftermath before his first cup of coffee. "Not in the mood," he responded as he headed over to the coffee machine, pulling out a fresh filter and his jar of fresh roasted almond vanilla coffee.
"Hangover?"
Frank didn't respond as he scooped the coffee into the filter and filled the reservoir with water.
After a minute of silence, Kimblee dared to breach it. "Frank?"
"What?"
"About last night-"
"I don't want to talk about it now."
"Just now? We can talk about it later."
Frank sighed as he leaned against the counter. He'd have to talk about it eventually. Bottling it up would not help the situation any. "Fine. We can talk about it later."
"How about over dinner?" Kimblee asked.
"What?"
"Dinner at my place. I'll provide the food if you provide the conversation," Kimblee said hopefully.
Frank pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really don't think that's such a good idea."
"Come on Frank. You know I can handle myself like a gentleman. I'm not going to jump you first thing through the door."
"You just want to talk?"
"Yeah. That's all. You up for it?"
He watched the coffee start to drip into his pot. "That depends," he said finally.
"Depends on what?" Kimblee sounded suspicious.
"Depends on the menu."
Kimblee chuckled. "I was thinking of getting some seafood from the River Mill."
"The River Mill? Isn't that place expensive?"
"It's worth every penny and so are you."
Frank felt his cheeks heat up. "Shut up."
Kimblee chuckled again. "Is that a yes then?"
"I...I suppose I can't let this opportunity go to waste," he said slowly.
"Great!"
Frank could hear the excitement in the man's voice as he set up a time and gave him directions. As he hung up the phone, he had to wonder what he was getting himself into.
He arrived on Kimblee's doorstep right on time. The door opened as soon as he knocked and Frank wondered if Kimblee had been waiting right behind the door for his arrival.
"Come in," Kimblee said happily, ushering him inside.
Frank looked around curiously. Kimblee had a pricey studio apartment which overlooked the river that flowed through the center of town. Large picture windows provided an excellent view of the city. The decor was tasteful. The lighting of the apartment was dim but accented with candles strategically places around the room to provide extra warm flickering light. "Nice place," he said.
"Thanks. I guess listening to that poufy decorator was a good idea after all."
Frank lifted an eyebrow at the comment.
Kimblee laughed. "Even I'm not that camp Franky Boy. This guy was wearing a man-skirt. I can do the pink shirt. Hell, I've worn a pink suit! But a man-skirt? That's pushing it."
"I see." Frank wondered what Kimblee would think about his underwear choice. Suddenly, the black satin and lace panties that he'd slid on didn't seem as comfortable as usual.
Kimblee looked up. "Oh? Did I say something wrong? Sorry. I'm an open guy. You have to be to be gay you know." He chuckled a bit weakly. "I just don't think it needs to be advertised on all channels at maximum frequency. You can still be subtle and classy, like you Frank."
"I'm not gay," Frank replied stubbornly, though Kimblee's words did relax him a bit.
Kimblee shrugged. "You're still classy." He winked. "Now come on, the food is waiting."
Frank nodded and walked over to the table. Even though he knew it was takeout, it was obvious that Kimblee had put some effort in the display of the food. The meal was set up as if they were dining in the River Mill rather than Kimblee's apartment.
"It's not quite like at the restaurant, but I tried." Kimblee shrugged as he moved to a wine bucket. "There's some chowder to start off with. Then some baked fish with vegetables. It smells delicious, don't you think?"
Frank had to agree. It did smell wonderful.
"Go on, sit down. I'm going to open this up." He pulled out a corkscrew and expertly pulled the cork from the bottle. He grabbed the glass in front of Frank's plate and poured him a glass of wine. Once he'd poured his own and placed the bottle back in its bucket, he sat across from Frank. "You can eat. You don't need to wait for me."
"It's only polite that I wait," Frank insisted, placing his napkin on his lap.
"Fine, but eat it while it's hot. I don't want you to have to eat a cold meal." He picked up his spoon and started in on the chowder.
Frank followed suit, taking a sip of the creamy chowder. He paused as he let the flavor wash over him. It was incredibly delicious. Despite the fact that he was there to talk about the previous night, he found that they went through the entire meal doing nothing more than commenting on the quality of the food. When the food was gone, he was given another glass of wine and shooed over to the couch while Kimblee cleaned up.
Frank settled on the couch and looked out at the city. He sipped the crisp white wine and worried about the conversation to come. After all, that was his entire reason for coming over. While he'd been drunk last night, he couldn't blame it all on the alcohol. He never had been one to ignore responsibility. As much as he might want to push it aside, he had to acknowledge the fact that he was responsible for coming onto Kimblee. What had he been thinking?
Kimblee returned from his cleaning and settled on the couch beside Frank. He sipped at his own glass of wine. "It's a nice view isn't it?"
Frank nodded slowly in agreement. He looked over at Kimblee, who was staring out of the window. He wondered when he was going to ask about last night, but the time stretched on and Kimblee said nothing. With each minute of silence, Frank could feel himself getting tense with anticipation. That's when Kimblee put his hand out and gently touched Frank's knee. Frank started, causing the wine to slosh dangerously in his glass.
"Relax Frank," Kimblee said gently. "Don't get so worked up." He smiled at him as he continued to rub his knee.
Frank swallowed hard and nodded, looking back at the window. He couldn't focus though. He ended up watching Kimblee's reflection in the candlelit window. Part of him argued that he should be pushing Kimblee away, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. The contact was nice. He was actually enjoying it. Admitting that to himself made him drain the wine from his glass in one deep gulp.
Noticing the empty glass, Kimblee gently plucked it from his hand and set it on the coffee table with his own half-finished glass. His hand took up position on Frank's leg again, this time being a little more daring as it rested on his thigh and began to stroke gently. Frank shivered and glanced sideways. Kimblee was watching him, watching his reactions.
"Is that ok?" He asked.
Frank could only nod at him. He felt like he was in a fog of confusion. He should be asking Kimblee to stop, but instead he was letting him continue. He was rewarded with a smile from Kimblee and the stroking got a little stronger. Frank shifted a little. His cock was starting to take interest in Kimblee's touch and it began to stiffen. Whether he noticed or not, Kimblee did not touch him there, but continued his maddening stroking. "Weren't we going to talk?" Frank blurted out suddenly.
Kimblee turned to him. "I think this is better than talking, don't you? After all, actions speak louder than words Frank."
"Yes, but I..." he trailed off as Kimblee let his thumb nudge up against his cock. His lips parted as he breathed out rather heavily.
Kimblee turned to Frank, studying his eyes before he leaned in to kiss him. He started out slow, just brushing their lips together chastely. He waited to make sure that Frank wouldn't pull away. When Frank leaned in for more, then Kimblee's kisses grew hungry and he pushed closer. He parted his lips, brushing his tongue across Frank's lips. Taking a deep breath, Frank let his opened his mouth to admit Kimblee's tongue.
Kimblee pushed him down onto the couch. The sound of the leather squeaking beneath him seemed so loud, it almost drowned out the pounding of his heart. He stared up at Kimblee looming over him. He didn't stay that way for long as he leaned in to continue kissing Frank senseless. He felt dizzy from the wide array of kisses that Kimblee was giving him. From chaste little kisses to deep toe curling kisses, Frank felt like he was caught up in the center of a human hurricane.
That's when Kimblee's hands began to roam. He started to stroke his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his sides. Anything that Kimblee could reach, he touched. It was odd to have someone touching him so much. He wasn't used to it. Even with his old girlfriend, he had touched her more than she'd touched him. To be on the receiving end of so many different touches was just as dizzying as Kimblee's various kisses. Frank felt like he was losing himself. That's when Kimblee rubbed his cock. He gasped as the man began to knead at his flesh through his pants. Kimblee chuckled and kissed Frank's stunned lips.
"It's going to get better," he promised as he sat up. Kimblee unbuckled Frank's belt, pushing it out of the way so he could open his pants. It was like he was lost in a strange dream as he cooperatively moved to Kimblee's urgings until his pants had been removed. Kimblee sat back to take in Frank's underwear. He ran his hand over the black satin he found and licked his lips. "This is unexpected, but beautiful," he murmured, pulling down the delicate material reverently. He stroked Frank's cock, causing him to moan and squirm beneath him.
Kimblee pushed Frank's legs wider as he settled between them, taking Frank's cock into his mouth. Frank arched sharply on the couch, his body crackling with pleasure. He felt Kimblee purr and all he could do was moan helplessly as the sensation rolled through him. It had never been like this with his old girlfriend. Did that mean that...? He shook his head, shutting down his thoughts. Now was not the time. He'd rather just enjoy the pleasure than get it tangled up in such heavy thoughts.
When he felt the slick finger at his entrance, he tried to pull away, but Kimblee held in him in place as his finger massaged the area lightly. It wasn't such a bad sensation, but it was definitely odd. Kimblee kept at it and the feeling slowly became less threatening and more soothing. He started to relax. He'd almost forgotten it was there by the time it slid in.
"W-what are you doing?" He choked out as he felt the finger moving around. He clenched around him, his body tensing at the embarrassing intrusion.
"Relax. I'm just looking for something," Kimblee purred as he licked delicately at the tip of Frank's cock.
Frank moaned and his head fell back on the couch as Kimblee sucked him back into his mouth. He couldn't stay tense with Kimblee sucking his cock like that. His muscles relaxed and he could feel Kimblee's finger moving more smoothly inside of him. That's when Kimblee rubbed against something that made Frank whimper. The sound burst from his lips as his body trembled. "What is that?" He croaked.
Kimblee chuckled. "That's what I was looking for." He stroked it again.
Frank whined as his hands clenched tightly. No words came to mind to describe how it felt, but he knew he wanted more. He tried to move against the finger inside of him. He made a disappointed sound when it went away.
"Shh. Don't worry, there's more." As promised, the strange filling sensation was back, but this time there were two fingers. He gasped as they spread out. Kimblee resumed his sweet assault and Frank found himself moving desperately to try and get those fingers to touch him in that place again.
"K-Kimblee." He had trouble believing that the desperate plea had come from his lips, but it didn't stop a second one from following. "Please."
"As you wish." Kimblee smiled as he leaned in to draw his cock back into his mouth. His fingers began to massage that place. Frank twisted helplessly as Kimblee assaulted that sweet spot inside of him. With a desperate sound, he finally came.
Kimblee sat back and smiled at him. Frank fought the wave of exhaustion that had fallen over him to ask "What about you?"
Kimblee shook his head. "You don't have to do anything. That was enough."
"But, you didn't-"
"Shhh." Kimblee cut him off with a kiss. "Don't worry. That was just what I wanted. I don't need anything else."
"Ok," Frank said doubtfully, licking the bitter taste of himself from his lips.
"Well, there might be one thing," Kimblee said, brushing Frank's hair back from his face.
"What's that?"
"Will you stay the night? I don't want to let you go just yet."
Frank looked away, his heart beating rapidly. "I...I'm not-"
Kimblee pressed his finger to Frank's lips, cutting off the word. "Don't complicate things. Just say that you'll stay. That's all I want to hear."
Frank felt his cheeks heat up. Finally, he nodded. "Ok."
"Great," Kimblee purred as he leaned down to claim his lips again.
Frank hesitantly wound his arms around Kimblee's neck thinking that maybe he could get used to this.
Pairing: Archer/Kimbly
Author: forchancookie
Artist: tomoe_daeva
Theme: #9 I Laughed So Hard I Nearly Cried
Summary: Frank Archer isn't gay, but somehow he can't stay away from the handsome and persistent Kimblee.
Warnings: AU, NC-17, Yaoi
I Laughed So Hard I Nearly Cried
Frank tried to avoid the hard gaze of the man sitting across from him on the train. The weight of his stare was disturbing. At first, he'd thought the man was staring at the woman sharing the seat with him, but that notion was dashed when she got off and the man continued to stare. Though he was wearing a nice suit and holding a briefcase, Frank got the impression that this man would look more comfortable in a trench coat as he stood in the shadows waiting for his next victim. He shuddered at the thought. Luckily, he was transferring trains at the next station.
He stood, clutching his backpack nervously. While he knew that the Victoria's Secret bag inside of his backpack was not visible, the other man's stare unsettled him. It had been nerve wracking enough shopping for his underwear today. It was inevitable that a man in a lingerie store get strange looks, but he always felt so aware of their eyes. It was worse now with this man staring at him as if he could see through his clothes to the secret underneath. It made his stomach turn with nervousness and his body tense and jumpy.
As the train pulled to a stop, Frank tried to shake off his thoughts. He headed for the waiting train across the platform and spotted an empty bench next to the window. He slid in the seat, moving over to make room for someone else. As he looked up at the rest of the train, he noticed the man that had been staring at him step on. The man looked around and spotted him. A smile twisted his face as he began to move down the aisle towards Frank.
As the man approached, the seat dipped next to him and an arm slung around his shoulder. "Hey baby, you never called me back!"
Frank blinked and turned to look at the person who had settled beside him. He had startling golden eyes, slick black hair, and a wide grin. The newcomer flicked his gaze to the stalker, staring at him pointedly. With a frown, the man passed by their seat and headed into the next car. Frank sighed in relief.
"You have to watch out for that guy. He likes to hassle pretty young men like yourself," Frank's seat mate said.
"Oh, um...thank you." He fought back a blush. He was not pretty. Men were not pretty.
The man grinned. "No problem. The name's Kimblee. Zolf J. Kimblee, but everyone just calls me Kimblee." He offered Frank his hand.
"Frank Archer," he replied, shaking his hand.
Kimblee nodded. "Are you new to the area Frank?"
"Yes. I just moved here recently."
"Like it so far?"
"Except for strange stalking men on the train? It's nice."
Kimblee chuckled. "Yeah. You have to watch out for that. There's a lot of strange people on the trains."
"I'll keep that in mind," Frank said.
"So, you have a boyfriend?" Kimblee asked.
Frank stiffened. "I'm straight."
Kimblee tilted his head and looked at Frank. A smile split his face before he burst out laughing. Some of the other passengers glanced at them as Kimblee continued to laugh carelessly. He put a hand to his face, covering his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.
Frank's face turned red as he glared at the other man. "I am," he insisted, loudly.
Kimblee wiped at his eyes and nodded, still chuckling. "Yes. Ok."
Frank turned away, staring out of the window into the dark tunnel. He couldn't decide whether he was more insulted or hurt by the man's laughter.
"Look, Frank. I'm sorry." Kimblee said soothingly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was just wishful thinking on my part."
For some reason, the blush raced up his cheeks again. "It's fine," he said gruffly. The truth was, he got that response more than he liked to admit.
"So, you're straight? No way I could possibly entice you out for a date?" Kimblee asked, leaning towards him.
"N-no." Frank pressed himself back against the window.
Kimblee tsked. "That's a shame. You're just my type."
"I'm sorry, but you're not mine." Frank looked up as the train operator announced his stop. He quickly stood up. "Excuse me, this is where I get off."
Kimblee looked disappointed. "Can I get your number at least? I could show you around."
"I appreciate the offer, but no."
With a sigh, Kimblee stood and let Frank out of the seat. "Maybe I'll see you around."
"Maybe," Frank replied flatly as he walked towards the door. Once he was off the train, he checked behind him to make sure he wasn't followed. Luckily, Kimblee stayed on the train, though Frank did notice him watching as the train left the station. He shivered uncomfortably and hurried down the stairs.
Frank walked home swiftly, frequently checking over his shoulder just in case. Two brush ins with strange men left him unsettled. He sighed as he stepped into his apartment and locked the door. He shed his backpack and dragged it into his bedroom where it got tossed on the bed. He slid off his shoes and collapsed across his comforter. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, he turned over and opened his backpack, drawing out the pink lingerie bag.
He started to pull out his purchases, laying them out on the bed. He'd bought varying shades and styles of panties, all in his size. While he knew that he wasn't gay, he did enjoy the delicate intricacy of a pair of women's underwear. The materials, the colors, the texture and the decoration had always drew him. When he'd moved out on his own and began doing his own laundry, his choice of undergarments had changed dramatically from the old cotton briefs that his mother would buy him. His underwear was the most colorful part of his wardrobe. His outer shell was fashionable, yet conservative, so he couldn't figure out why men like Kimblee kept hitting on him. He didn't think he looked gay.
He sighed and shook his head to clear away such thoughts. He reached for his cell phone and frowned. He was sure he'd put it in his right coat pocket. He searched the other pocket, then patted down his pants, then dumped over his backpack, searching frantically for his phone. It wasn't there. He cursed and grabbed the cordless phone on his dresser. He dialed his number and listened carefully, hoping to hear his ring tone.
"Hello? Frank?"
Frank blinked. "H-hello?"
"Ah, so this is yours. This is Kimblee. You dropped your phone on the train."
"Oh."
"I'm guessing that you want this back."
"Yes, of course."
"I'm also guessing that you won't give me your address to return it and the chances of having you come to my place are non-existent."
Frank snorted softly. "You'd be correct."
"Then how about we do it this way? There's a nice little deli just off the Langford stop. You meet me there for lunch tomorrow and I'll give you your phone back."
Frank could hear the triumphant grin in the other man's voice. He could just imagine the look of glee on his face from having the leverage to get Frank out on a date with him. He thought about arguing, but he needed his phone. It was effectively held hostage by the other man. "What's the name of it?"
"Petrelli's Deli. Just leave the station, take a right and walk up the sidewalk. It's the place with the tables on the sidewalk."
"And what time should I meet you?"
"11:30. We'll beat the crowd that way."
Frank nodded to himself. "Then I'll see you tomorrow at 11:30 and you'll give me my phone?"
"Of course, but only after you enjoy lunch with me. My treat of course."
"Of course," he replied sourly.
"All right. It's a date then. See you tomorrow Frank."
Frank stood there listening to the dead line for a minute before he put down the phone. He couldn't believe that he got tricked into going to lunch with that man.
~*~
Frank stepped off of the train at 11:10. He left the station and took a right. Up ahead he could see the deli that Kimblee had described. In fact, he saw Kimblee lounging at one of the tables. Kimblee spotted him a moment later and stood up, waving.
"You made it. Come on, have a seat." He gestured to the chair across from him.
"Do you have my phone?" Frank asked.
"What a greeting. Yes, I have your phone, but you can't have it till after lunch. You'll run away if I give it to you now." Kimblee grinned.
Frank sat down and frowned.
Kimblee continued to grin. "Don't be like that, you'll get your phone. I just want a nice little chat and some lunch."
"You're holding me hostage," Frank pointed out.
"Don't think of it like that. You make it sound like I'm doing something wrong." Kimblee sat back in his chair, calmly countering Frank's accusation.
"Aren't you? You won't give me my phone back."
Kimblee sighed. "Fine, if I give it back to you, will you stay and have lunch with me?"
Frank looked around and then at Kimblee before nodding. "I'll stay." He might as well get a free lunch for going all the way out there.
Kimblee beamed. "Great! They have a really good roasted lamb sandwich." He produced Frank's phone from his pocket and slid it across the table.
"Thank you." Frank picked up his phone and looked it over. Everything appeared to be in order. He slid it into his pocket and picked up the menu on the table. "They have lamb here?"
"Yes. It's delicious."
Frank nodded. "I think I'll try that."
"Great." Kimblee flagged down the waiter and they placed their orders. Once the waiter had dropped off their drinks, Kimblee turned his attention back to Frank. "So Frank, what brings you out to Central? Where did you move from?"
"My job brought me here."
"What do you do?" Kimblee asked, resting his elbows on the table.
"I'm a personal assistant."
He nodded. "I work for an advertising agency. I'm in the entertainment division. We promote a lot of plays and concerts. If there's ever a show in town that you want to see, call me up and I can get you tickets."
"That's very nice, thank you." He doubted that he'd ever see the man again after this. After all, he was just here for his phone.
Kimblee continued to make small talk while Frank tried to keep his answers short and polite. Luckily, their food arrived to break up the questioning. Frank was glad to finally focus on something other than Kimblee. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He was surprised by the taste. It was good and he said as much to Kimblee.
"I told you so." Kimblee grinned before turning his attention to his own food.
Frank found himself staring as the man delicately ate his sandwich. For some reason, he'd thought he would tear into it. Kimblee glanced up and raised an eyebrow. Frank blushed and turned his attention back to his own food. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd never found people eating interesting before. So why now?
Kimblee finished off his sandwich and carefully wiped his mouth. Frank noticed that now, he was the one being watched. He licked some mayonnaise from his lip nervously. Kimblee smiled. Frank looked down at his sandwich. The juicy lamb was dripping down his fingers.
"You're dripping," Kimblee said, reaching out with his napkin to wipe at Frank's wrist.
"Thanks," Frank mumbled.
"No problem." Kimblee sat back. Frank could hear the tinkle of ice in his glass as the man took a sip of his iced tea.
Frank continued to work at his food, but the silence was getting tho him. He knew that Kimblee was staring at him. He needed some sort of distraction.
"So Frank, you're a fan of the Military Dogs?" Kimblee asked.
Frank looked up, surprised. "How did you know?"
"Your ring tone. It's Fullmetal by the Dogs."
"Oh."
"They're coming to town next week. They have a show at the Devil's Nest." Kimblee said.
Frank nodded. "I know, but it's sold out and the scalper prices are too much."
"I have tickets."
The sandwich froze halfway to Frank's mouth. "What?"
"I have tickets. I told you, I work for an advertising agency. We were contracted to do the advertising for the tour, so I have two tickets to the show." Kimblee grinned at Frank's shocked, but hungry expression. "Wanna go? You'd have to go with me, but you'd be on the third row."
"You really have tickets?" Frank asked.
Kimblee nodded. "I really have tickets."
Frank looked at him thoughtfully. He didn't want to encourage the man, but he would really like to see Dogs of the Military in concert. They were his favorite band. In the end, his desire to see them won out. "I'll go. As long as you don't try to turn it into another date."
"Another date?" Kimblee asked.
"Yes. Like this forced date."
"You consider this a date?" Kimblee grinned.
"No, I consider this more of a hostage situation."
He chuckled. "Well that's an interesting way of looking at it. I've never had anyone so desperate to get away from me."
"I'm not exactly here by choice," Frank reminded him.
"But you're not having a bad time are you? And there are fringe benefits."
"That may be, but I'm still not gay."
Kimblee laughed. "All right. You're not gay, but you really can't blame me for trying. You are very handsome."
"And you don't know when to quit." Frank quickly finished his food. "Thanks for lunch," he said as he wiped his chin and brushed a few stray crumbs from his shirt.
"You're leaving already?" Kimblee asked.
Frank nodded. "I was just here for the phone."
"What about the concert? You don't want to plan that out?"
Frank paused as he realized that he was yet again trapped. If he wanted to see the concert, he had to stay and entertain Kimblee's whims. "Fine, I'll stay, but only for a few more minutes."
Kimblee grinned triumphantly. "A few minutes is fine with me."
~*~
Frank, grudgingly, allowed Kimblee to pick him up to go to the concert. When he walked out of his apartment complex to find a limo waiting, he was shocked. Kimblee was leaning against the sleek black car, grinning as usual.
"What is this?" Frank asked, waving at the car.
"Our chariot my dear."
"I thought you had a car."
Kimblee shook his head. "I just rent them when I need them. And I always rent the best."
"You're insane."
He shrugged as he opened the door of the limo. "You say that now, but we'll have a much easier time getting in and out in this car than if we drove ourselves. There is logic in the madness, I promise."
"If you say so." He carefully climbed into the limo, looking around. It was his second time in a limo. The first time was for his cousin's shot gun wedding when he was 12. This one was a lot fancier.
Kimblee climbed into the car and sat next to a mini bar. "Champagne?"
"Does it cost more if we open it?" Frank asked.
Kimblee chuckled. "Don't worry about that. We're just here to have a good time." He opened the bottle and poured a glass of the sparkling liquid for Frank.
"Thank you." He took the glass. It had a delicate sweetness that encouraged him to have seconds. He had a pleasant buzz by the time they reached the arena. He felt a lot more relaxed in Kimblee's presence, which was a plus.
Just as Kimblee had predicted, they had no trouble getting in with their luxury wheels. The seats were great. The music was amazing and better yet, Kimblee had managed to get him back stage to meet the band. Frank almost would have called it the best date ever, except that it wasn't a date.
He ended up sitting on a couch talking with the Military Dogs' bassist, Riza Hawkeye, while Kimblee chatted with a small group of people across the room. Riza was beautiful and intelligent and their conversation was interesting, but somehow, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering over to Kimblee. It seemed every time he glanced over, the man was being overly friendly with another person.
"Worried about your boyfriend?" Riza asked, grinning.
"Wh-what? No! He's not. We're not," Frank babbled, his face heating up.
"Ah. Not yet anyway?" Riza asked, looking from Frank to Kimblee.
"No," Frank said, embarrassed that she misunderstood like this.
"Don't worry, he's watching you when you're not looking too. I'm sure it won't be long before you get together."
Frank just nodded dumbly, too embarrassed to try and correct her again. Instead, he picked up another drink from the waiter serving the little after party and attempted to erase her comments from his mind. By the time she excused herself to feed her dog, Frank realized that he'd had about two drinks too many as the room was wavering slightly. As the rest of the band trickled away to eat and sleep, Kimblee returned to collect Frank. He was careful to keep an arm around Frank's waist as they wobbled back to the limo.
The ride back was quiet as Frank stared out the window, thinking about Riza's words. He knew that Kimblee liked him, but he didn't like the other man! He didn't want to get together with him. He wasn't gay! He was straight. He hadn't dated in high school, but once he got to college, he met a nice girl at the library and they dated for three years. They broke up when she graduated and moved, but later on a friend had told him that she claimed he didn't satisfy her in bed. He hadn't dated since then, but that didn't mean he was gay. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He woke with a start as someone shook him and called his name.
"Frank. Wake up, we're at your apartment."
Frank opened his eyes blearily and stared up at the blurry form over him.
"C'mon Frank, time to go home."
"Home?" Frank murmured as he was pulled into a sitting position.
"Yes. Come on, I'll walk you up." Kimblee backed out of the car, making sure that Frank came with him.
Drunk and half asleep, Frank leaned heavily against Kimblee.
"Which of these buildings are we going to?" Kimblee asked as they headed up the walkway.
"Um....B."
Kimblee nodded. "And what's your number?"
"325."
They headed into the building and Kimblee got Frank into the elevator. Frank rested his head on Kimblee's shoulder and wondered what cologne the man wore. It smelled nice. The chime of the elevator interrupted his contemplation as he was guided out into the hall to his doorway. Frank stood, staring at his door until Kimblee asked for his keys. He fumbled, but managed to pull them out of his pocket and drop them. With a chuckle, Kimblee knelt down to pick them up and get the door open.
Kimblee guided Frank into the apartment, looking around with interest. "Where's your bedroom?" He asked.
"This way." Frank slipped away from Kimblee and headed down the hall, through his living room and disappeared through a doorway.
Kimblee followed and found Frank sprawled on his bed with his shoes on. He smiled and walked over, working the shoes off of his feet. "You're going to mess up your sheets," he said, setting the shoes on the floor.
"I'm tired." Frank sighed, turning over to look at Kimblee.
He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah. Best date ever," he said through a yawn.
Kimblee blinked. "Date?"
"Mmm." Frank agreed.
"I thought you said-"
"You smell nice," Frank interrupted, sitting up slowly. He rested his head on Kimblee's shoulder, inhaling.
"Thank you," Kimblee said quietly, as though saying it louder would cause Frank to jump away.
Frank nuzzled his neck before looking up at him with a glazed look. Kimblee stared back like a mouse facing down a snake ad Frank leaned in and clumsily pressed their lips together. Surprised as he was, Kimblee couldn't help but kiss him back. Frank pressed forward, adding a slip of tongue to the kiss. This wasn't bad. It was just a kiss, like all the other kisses he'd ever had before, but with a man instead. He continued to deepen the kiss, slowly trying to process it.
Kimblee groaned and pushed him away. "Frank, you're killing me."
Frank licked his lips and looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"Because you're drunk." He tried to push him down onto the the mattress.
Frank went easily, but not before grabbing Kimblee to drag him along. Kimblee's head bumped into his, but he ignored it as he sought out his mouth again. He got in another kiss causing Kimblee to moan.
"Frank, stop." Kimblee held him down as he pulled away.
"Why?"
Kimblee sighed and shook his head. "You're not gay. You were very insistent upon this point when sober."
"So?" Frank tilted his head.
"So, I like you Frank. I also respect you. I'm not gonna do anything with you that'll make you hate yourself in the morning and ruin my chances with you."
Frank stared at him, slowly thinking over his words. "You're a good guy," he said slowly.
"Yeah. I know. Too good for my own good," he sighed as he stood up.
"You're leaving me?" Frank reached out to him.
"Yeah. The limo's waiting." He took Frank's hand and placed it back on the bed. "I'll call you tomorrow though." He had to tug his hand away from Frank's in order to flee before he did something stupid. "Good night," he said as he stepped out of the room.
~*~
Frank woke slowly. He tried to keep his eyes shut against the light that streamed into his room. There was a headache throbbing in his temples to the tune of "War" by the Military Dogs. As much as he loved the band, he really wanted the racket to calm down. He managed to coax his body out of bed and into the bathroom where he swallowed some painkillers and stripped out of his clothes. He wondered at the whiff of cologne on his shirt, but shrugged it off as he tossed the shirt in the hamper and stepped into the shower. After spending some time under the warm spray, he felt considerably more human.
Frank dried off and headed into the bedroom in search of clothes. He pulled on a pair of flannel patterned panties trimmed with lace and a matching set of pajama pants. He grabbed a white t-shirt and slid it on, ready for a nice day of lounging around the house. He walked into the kitchen to start his coffeepot when the phone rang. With a sigh, he detoured towards the phone and answered it.
"Hey Frank, how ya feeling this morning?" Kimblee asked.
Frank sighed. He really didn't want to talk to the man now. He knew that he did something stupid last night and he didn't want to deal with the aftermath before his first cup of coffee. "Not in the mood," he responded as he headed over to the coffee machine, pulling out a fresh filter and his jar of fresh roasted almond vanilla coffee.
"Hangover?"
Frank didn't respond as he scooped the coffee into the filter and filled the reservoir with water.
After a minute of silence, Kimblee dared to breach it. "Frank?"
"What?"
"About last night-"
"I don't want to talk about it now."
"Just now? We can talk about it later."
Frank sighed as he leaned against the counter. He'd have to talk about it eventually. Bottling it up would not help the situation any. "Fine. We can talk about it later."
"How about over dinner?" Kimblee asked.
"What?"
"Dinner at my place. I'll provide the food if you provide the conversation," Kimblee said hopefully.
Frank pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really don't think that's such a good idea."
"Come on Frank. You know I can handle myself like a gentleman. I'm not going to jump you first thing through the door."
"You just want to talk?"
"Yeah. That's all. You up for it?"
He watched the coffee start to drip into his pot. "That depends," he said finally.
"Depends on what?" Kimblee sounded suspicious.
"Depends on the menu."
Kimblee chuckled. "I was thinking of getting some seafood from the River Mill."
"The River Mill? Isn't that place expensive?"
"It's worth every penny and so are you."
Frank felt his cheeks heat up. "Shut up."
Kimblee chuckled again. "Is that a yes then?"
"I...I suppose I can't let this opportunity go to waste," he said slowly.
"Great!"
Frank could hear the excitement in the man's voice as he set up a time and gave him directions. As he hung up the phone, he had to wonder what he was getting himself into.
He arrived on Kimblee's doorstep right on time. The door opened as soon as he knocked and Frank wondered if Kimblee had been waiting right behind the door for his arrival.
"Come in," Kimblee said happily, ushering him inside.
Frank looked around curiously. Kimblee had a pricey studio apartment which overlooked the river that flowed through the center of town. Large picture windows provided an excellent view of the city. The decor was tasteful. The lighting of the apartment was dim but accented with candles strategically places around the room to provide extra warm flickering light. "Nice place," he said.
"Thanks. I guess listening to that poufy decorator was a good idea after all."
Frank lifted an eyebrow at the comment.
Kimblee laughed. "Even I'm not that camp Franky Boy. This guy was wearing a man-skirt. I can do the pink shirt. Hell, I've worn a pink suit! But a man-skirt? That's pushing it."
"I see." Frank wondered what Kimblee would think about his underwear choice. Suddenly, the black satin and lace panties that he'd slid on didn't seem as comfortable as usual.
Kimblee looked up. "Oh? Did I say something wrong? Sorry. I'm an open guy. You have to be to be gay you know." He chuckled a bit weakly. "I just don't think it needs to be advertised on all channels at maximum frequency. You can still be subtle and classy, like you Frank."
"I'm not gay," Frank replied stubbornly, though Kimblee's words did relax him a bit.
Kimblee shrugged. "You're still classy." He winked. "Now come on, the food is waiting."
Frank nodded and walked over to the table. Even though he knew it was takeout, it was obvious that Kimblee had put some effort in the display of the food. The meal was set up as if they were dining in the River Mill rather than Kimblee's apartment.
"It's not quite like at the restaurant, but I tried." Kimblee shrugged as he moved to a wine bucket. "There's some chowder to start off with. Then some baked fish with vegetables. It smells delicious, don't you think?"
Frank had to agree. It did smell wonderful.
"Go on, sit down. I'm going to open this up." He pulled out a corkscrew and expertly pulled the cork from the bottle. He grabbed the glass in front of Frank's plate and poured him a glass of wine. Once he'd poured his own and placed the bottle back in its bucket, he sat across from Frank. "You can eat. You don't need to wait for me."
"It's only polite that I wait," Frank insisted, placing his napkin on his lap.
"Fine, but eat it while it's hot. I don't want you to have to eat a cold meal." He picked up his spoon and started in on the chowder.
Frank followed suit, taking a sip of the creamy chowder. He paused as he let the flavor wash over him. It was incredibly delicious. Despite the fact that he was there to talk about the previous night, he found that they went through the entire meal doing nothing more than commenting on the quality of the food. When the food was gone, he was given another glass of wine and shooed over to the couch while Kimblee cleaned up.
Frank settled on the couch and looked out at the city. He sipped the crisp white wine and worried about the conversation to come. After all, that was his entire reason for coming over. While he'd been drunk last night, he couldn't blame it all on the alcohol. He never had been one to ignore responsibility. As much as he might want to push it aside, he had to acknowledge the fact that he was responsible for coming onto Kimblee. What had he been thinking?
Kimblee returned from his cleaning and settled on the couch beside Frank. He sipped at his own glass of wine. "It's a nice view isn't it?"
Frank nodded slowly in agreement. He looked over at Kimblee, who was staring out of the window. He wondered when he was going to ask about last night, but the time stretched on and Kimblee said nothing. With each minute of silence, Frank could feel himself getting tense with anticipation. That's when Kimblee put his hand out and gently touched Frank's knee. Frank started, causing the wine to slosh dangerously in his glass.
"Relax Frank," Kimblee said gently. "Don't get so worked up." He smiled at him as he continued to rub his knee.
Frank swallowed hard and nodded, looking back at the window. He couldn't focus though. He ended up watching Kimblee's reflection in the candlelit window. Part of him argued that he should be pushing Kimblee away, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. The contact was nice. He was actually enjoying it. Admitting that to himself made him drain the wine from his glass in one deep gulp.
Noticing the empty glass, Kimblee gently plucked it from his hand and set it on the coffee table with his own half-finished glass. His hand took up position on Frank's leg again, this time being a little more daring as it rested on his thigh and began to stroke gently. Frank shivered and glanced sideways. Kimblee was watching him, watching his reactions.
"Is that ok?" He asked.
Frank could only nod at him. He felt like he was in a fog of confusion. He should be asking Kimblee to stop, but instead he was letting him continue. He was rewarded with a smile from Kimblee and the stroking got a little stronger. Frank shifted a little. His cock was starting to take interest in Kimblee's touch and it began to stiffen. Whether he noticed or not, Kimblee did not touch him there, but continued his maddening stroking. "Weren't we going to talk?" Frank blurted out suddenly.
Kimblee turned to him. "I think this is better than talking, don't you? After all, actions speak louder than words Frank."
"Yes, but I..." he trailed off as Kimblee let his thumb nudge up against his cock. His lips parted as he breathed out rather heavily.
Kimblee turned to Frank, studying his eyes before he leaned in to kiss him. He started out slow, just brushing their lips together chastely. He waited to make sure that Frank wouldn't pull away. When Frank leaned in for more, then Kimblee's kisses grew hungry and he pushed closer. He parted his lips, brushing his tongue across Frank's lips. Taking a deep breath, Frank let his opened his mouth to admit Kimblee's tongue.
Kimblee pushed him down onto the couch. The sound of the leather squeaking beneath him seemed so loud, it almost drowned out the pounding of his heart. He stared up at Kimblee looming over him. He didn't stay that way for long as he leaned in to continue kissing Frank senseless. He felt dizzy from the wide array of kisses that Kimblee was giving him. From chaste little kisses to deep toe curling kisses, Frank felt like he was caught up in the center of a human hurricane.
That's when Kimblee's hands began to roam. He started to stroke his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his sides. Anything that Kimblee could reach, he touched. It was odd to have someone touching him so much. He wasn't used to it. Even with his old girlfriend, he had touched her more than she'd touched him. To be on the receiving end of so many different touches was just as dizzying as Kimblee's various kisses. Frank felt like he was losing himself. That's when Kimblee rubbed his cock. He gasped as the man began to knead at his flesh through his pants. Kimblee chuckled and kissed Frank's stunned lips.
"It's going to get better," he promised as he sat up. Kimblee unbuckled Frank's belt, pushing it out of the way so he could open his pants. It was like he was lost in a strange dream as he cooperatively moved to Kimblee's urgings until his pants had been removed. Kimblee sat back to take in Frank's underwear. He ran his hand over the black satin he found and licked his lips. "This is unexpected, but beautiful," he murmured, pulling down the delicate material reverently. He stroked Frank's cock, causing him to moan and squirm beneath him.
Kimblee pushed Frank's legs wider as he settled between them, taking Frank's cock into his mouth. Frank arched sharply on the couch, his body crackling with pleasure. He felt Kimblee purr and all he could do was moan helplessly as the sensation rolled through him. It had never been like this with his old girlfriend. Did that mean that...? He shook his head, shutting down his thoughts. Now was not the time. He'd rather just enjoy the pleasure than get it tangled up in such heavy thoughts.
When he felt the slick finger at his entrance, he tried to pull away, but Kimblee held in him in place as his finger massaged the area lightly. It wasn't such a bad sensation, but it was definitely odd. Kimblee kept at it and the feeling slowly became less threatening and more soothing. He started to relax. He'd almost forgotten it was there by the time it slid in.
"W-what are you doing?" He choked out as he felt the finger moving around. He clenched around him, his body tensing at the embarrassing intrusion.
"Relax. I'm just looking for something," Kimblee purred as he licked delicately at the tip of Frank's cock.
Frank moaned and his head fell back on the couch as Kimblee sucked him back into his mouth. He couldn't stay tense with Kimblee sucking his cock like that. His muscles relaxed and he could feel Kimblee's finger moving more smoothly inside of him. That's when Kimblee rubbed against something that made Frank whimper. The sound burst from his lips as his body trembled. "What is that?" He croaked.
Kimblee chuckled. "That's what I was looking for." He stroked it again.
Frank whined as his hands clenched tightly. No words came to mind to describe how it felt, but he knew he wanted more. He tried to move against the finger inside of him. He made a disappointed sound when it went away.
"Shh. Don't worry, there's more." As promised, the strange filling sensation was back, but this time there were two fingers. He gasped as they spread out. Kimblee resumed his sweet assault and Frank found himself moving desperately to try and get those fingers to touch him in that place again.
"K-Kimblee." He had trouble believing that the desperate plea had come from his lips, but it didn't stop a second one from following. "Please."
"As you wish." Kimblee smiled as he leaned in to draw his cock back into his mouth. His fingers began to massage that place. Frank twisted helplessly as Kimblee assaulted that sweet spot inside of him. With a desperate sound, he finally came.
Kimblee sat back and smiled at him. Frank fought the wave of exhaustion that had fallen over him to ask "What about you?"
Kimblee shook his head. "You don't have to do anything. That was enough."
"But, you didn't-"
"Shhh." Kimblee cut him off with a kiss. "Don't worry. That was just what I wanted. I don't need anything else."
"Ok," Frank said doubtfully, licking the bitter taste of himself from his lips.
"Well, there might be one thing," Kimblee said, brushing Frank's hair back from his face.
"What's that?"
"Will you stay the night? I don't want to let you go just yet."
Frank looked away, his heart beating rapidly. "I...I'm not-"
Kimblee pressed his finger to Frank's lips, cutting off the word. "Don't complicate things. Just say that you'll stay. That's all I want to hear."
Frank felt his cheeks heat up. Finally, he nodded. "Ok."
"Great," Kimblee purred as he leaned down to claim his lips again.
Frank hesitantly wound his arms around Kimblee's neck thinking that maybe he could get used to this.