Work Text:
The conversation that Frankie had with his abuelo when he was 12 years old had been a memory that always stayed with him throughout this life. At times it was buried deep in his subconscious, but it was there.
After that night you two first met, after you two had drinks at the same bar he had just left before rescuing you from that asshole of a date, he had already known that there was something special about you. Conversation was easy with you. You had listened to him as intently as he had listened to you. Whenever you smiled, the world felt brighter and more hopeful. Every light touch of your hand to his or brush of your knee had his nerves sparking with the need for even more of you.
It already felt natural for him to take your hand as you left the bar at closing time. His heart stammered when he felt you slip your fingers between his, giving the tiniest squeeze. When he walked you to your car, you had leaned back against it to look up at him with that smile again that weakened his knees. He’ll forever be grateful for you to have taken the lead in that moment and gently pull him closer into a kiss that still steals his breath away when he thinks about it.
And then it was after the night of your first official date, after he had dropped you home, that he remembers a feeling gnawing at him. A feeling he didn’t recognize because it was new to him.
But it wasn’t until that moment he picked you up for your sixth date, when that memory with his abuelo came flooding back the moment he saw you.
“Why do you call abuela ‘Violeta’ when that’s not her name?” a young pre-teen Frankie asked his abuelo one afternoon while sitting with him at their kitchen table playing Crazy Eights.
His abuelo laughed with a big smile, “Do you have a favorite flower, Francisco?”
Frankie scrunches his face with confusion, “What? No, abuelo. I’m a boy.”
“Nonsense, mijo,” The man calmly shakes his head, “Every person, boy or girl, has a favorite flower. One that makes them purely joyful at just the mere sight of it. Makes them smile and feel that hope of all the beautiful things life has to offer,” he smiles and gestures widely with his arm.
His abuelo’s voice is laced with such fondness and love that it quiets the young boy into softly asking, “What’s yours?
His abuelo smiles with the softest look, “Violets. The way I’ve always felt when I’ve seen a violet, is the exact same way your abuela makes me feel when I look at her and when I’m with her. That’s the answer to your question, mijo. Your abuela is mi Violeta.”
As Frankie listens and lets that sink in, his abuelo asks him again, “So, what flower makes you feel that same way?”
This time he thinks about it, feeling less weird about answering after hearing his abuelo admit to having one.
With a dimpled little grin that comes from the feeling of even thinking about them, Frankie answers, “Sunflowers.”
The older man smiles proudly, “Beautiful choice, Francisco. One day, you’ll find a girl who makes you feel the way you do when you see a sunflower. The way I feel when I see your abuela. When that day comes, you don’t let her go, mijo. Because that girl is su girasol.” (your sunflower)
You had already told him that you’d meet him in the parking lot when he came by your building to pick you up. Something about your nosy neighbor giving you dirty looks after Frankie had spent the night last time, which was when he had made you cry out a bit too loud several times that night causing the neighbor’s disgust with you.
After texting you of his arrival, he exited his truck to lean against the side of the pickup bed. Pinching the bill of his cap, he lifts it off and swipes the front of his hair before pulling it back on. With a cross of his arms against his chest, his eyes scan the lot out of habit before eyeing the door of your building you’d be coming out of.
When you finally walked out, he knew the moment you spotted him because the biggest smile took over your face. There was no question, his own face was mirroring yours. It had been a few days since you last saw one another and even with the phone calls and texts in between it was still a few days too long.
It was then, when his eyes took in your dress, that the memory with his abuelo slammed to the forefront of his mind. On your body was a beautiful white sundress, with sunflowers all over it.
“One that makes them purely joyful at just the mere sight of it. Makes them smile and feel that hope of all the beautiful things life has to offer.”
The happiest he’s ever been, with any woman, has been with you.
“One day, you’ll find a girl who makes you feel the way you do when you see a sunflower.”
Even Pope had pointed it out to him recently. How he’d never seen Frankie so happy as he’s been lately, not ever. The only thing that’s changed in his life is you coming into it.
That feeling he’s felt since that first night finally makes sense now. It’s love.
Everything his abuelo had said, it’s exactly how you make him feel. Fucking happy. And he feels that hope of all the good things to come, but with you by his side.
He finally found her. Found you.
Su Girasol. (his sunflower)
His heart is pounding at the revelation, but it doesn’t stop the elation he feels when you’re halfway to him and start running. Frankie straightens up and starts quickly moving in your direction, the smiles never leaving your faces.
“Frankie!” you exclaim as you leap into his outstretched arms, hooking your legs around his waist as you press several kisses to his lips, “God, I missed you,” you giggle, feeling one of his hands on your ass as the other grips the back of your neck.
“Missed you like hell, baby” he answers back before pulling you back down for another kiss.
You unwrap your legs and he slowly guides you down until your feet touch the ground, hands cupping your face to give you a few more kisses. Your fingers curl in his t-shirt, as his tongue tastes yours, then loosen to slide down his torso.
He takes your hand, one more kiss pecked to your sweet lips, “Sweetheart, you look beautiful. I love your dress,” he steps back to give you a onceover.
With heated cheeks, you smile under his gaze, “Thank you, babe. Sunflowers are my favorite.”
The smile that forms on his face has you weak in the knees, “Mine too,” he replies.
“Yeah?” you grin, as he walks you to his truck. He nods and gently guides your back against the side of it, pressing into you which you happily accommodate as you wrap your arms around his waist.
His large hands skim your sides before wrapping around you, “I could look at them all day. They’ve always made me really happy,” with a gentle brush of his nose against yours, lips almost touching, “Same way I could look at you all day. Same way I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”
The warmth of his breath hits your lips as he whispers, “Eres mi girasol.”
You slide a hand up his back as you cup his cheek with your other, “What does that mean?” you softly ask, lips brushing his before leaving a light kiss to the corner of his mouth as your eyes stay on his.
The tone he answers you with is so soft, “You’re my sunflower.”
Your body buzzes with how sweet he’s looking at you. This man has no idea just how much he means to you already.
“I love that,” you tenderly share before taking a moment to work up the courage to add, “And I love being yours.”
And I love you, you add on in your head.
Frankie can tell your slight nervousness to admit that to him, but it ends up being the courage he needs for his own admission. He dips his head to kiss you fully, his hands split between burying into your hair and cupping your ass. Your palms slide up his strong back, holding him to you as best you can as you melt into the passionate kiss.
When you feel his lips slowly leave yours, you blink your eyes open in a daze of adoration as you find him looking at you.
His admission has your tummy flipping with emotion and your heart ready to beat out of your chest.
“I’m falling in love with you,” his eyes searching yours for any indication of your reaction, hoping it’s not too soon to say since he’s actually fairly certain he’s already in love with you.
He swears your eyes sparkle as your lips curve into the cutest smile, “Frankie…,” you sweetly exhale, “... I’m falling for you too. Hard.”
There’s a big smile that shows that cute dimple of his right before you both meet for a more fervent kiss. His body presses into you more and you shift your hips until you’re practically straddling his thigh that’s pressed between your legs. Both of you are breathing heavy as your lips part, eyes roaming the features of the other before landing on the eyes.
“Can we save today’s date plans for another day? I have something else in mind,” you quickly question.
Frankie gives your ass a squeeze then slides his hand along your cheek, “Tell me.”
“You already know,” you kiss him again before taking his hand in yours and moving away from the truck, back towards your building.
He can’t wipe the grin off his face if he tried, “Your neighbor?” he weakly asks as he lets you pull him with you. Turning to face him, you just shrug, “She can turn her TV louder. Or you could always just kiss me more to keep me quieter,” throwing him a wink.
Frankie covers the small distance with a long stride and wraps his arms around your waist unexpectedly, making you giggle.
“I’ll kiss you forever, mi Girasol.”