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Frankie sat cross legged in the middle of her bed, hair still slightly damp from her shower, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the room. The overhead light was off, replaced by the soft yellow glow of her bedside lamp. It made everything feel warmer.
She was already in her pajamas: an oversized band tee and soft shorts, one leg stretched out in front of her while she smoothed lotion over the tattoos along her thigh. Slow, deliberate movements. She always took her time with them. Like they deserved it.
Her skin was still warm from the shower, and the lotion left a faint sheen over the ink. She rubbed carefully over the lines, thumbs tracing familiar shapes absentmindedly. It was less about the lotion and more about the nighttime ritual—grounding, calming.
The house was quiet in that comfortable way it only got at night. She could faintly hear movement somewhere down the hall—probably one of the others getting ready for bed. A door closed softly. Pipes hummed for a second. Then stillness again.
Frankie glanced at her phone on the nightstand. No new notifications. She tried not to smile too much to herself. Gee said she’d be over after finishing something for class. “Just a few minutes,” she’d promised, leaning in earlier with that affectionate little grin that made Frankie feel like she’d been handed something precious.
Frankie smoothed lotion over the tattoos on her forearm now, rolling her wrist slowly. She pretended she wasn’t waiting, but she absolutely was. Her knee bounced once. She adjusted the pillows behind her. Fluffed them. Repositioned them again. Then she paused, listening. Footsteps.
The door creaked open just enough for Gee to slip inside, nudging it shut behind her with her hip. Frankie looked up immediately and forgot how to breathe for a second.
Gee was already ready for bed, her dark hair brushing against her shoulders. She was wearing that pink nightgown—the one that was soft and floaty and unfair in the way it made her look both delicate and powerful at the same time. The fabric caught the lamplight, turning warmer, almost peach against her pale skin.
Frankie was already moving before she fully registered it. She crawled across the bed toward the edge, grinning like she’d just been given the best surprise of her life. “You look-” she started, reaching out for Gee’s waist.
Then she noticed Gee’s arms were full. Serums. Moisturizer. A little jar of something expensive. Cotton pads tucked under one elbow. Gee shifted the pile slightly, trying not to drop anything. “Don’t touch me yet,” she said dramatically. “I have layers to apply.”
Frankie laughed, dropping back onto her knees. “I was literally about to tell you how fucking gorgeous you look.”
“You still can,” Gee said, stepping closer to the bed. “But you have to help me with this first. Please. I brought extra.” She tilted the products so Frankie could see them like she was presenting an offering.
Frankie narrowed her eyes. “You’re recruiting me into your ten step thing again.”
“It’s not ten steps,” Gee protested.
“It’s at least seven.”
Gee just rolled her eyes playfully. “Come on,” she said, climbing onto the bed and carefully setting the products between them. “We can do it together.”
Frankie sat in front of her now, their knees brushing. She reached up and gently took one of the bottles from Gee’s hands, her fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
“Okay,” Frankie murmured, eyes flicking up and down Gee’s nightgown again, very deliberately. “But after this, I’m finishing my original plan.”
Gee arched an eyebrow. “Which was?”
“Telling you how ridiculously fucking beautiful you are,” Frankie said immediately, leaning in to give Gee a quick kiss.
Gee smiled, soft and shy and fond all at once. “You can do that while you rub in my moisturizer.”
“Oh, I would love nothing more.” Frankie teased, beaming and watching as Gee organized the little collection of bottles and jars between them.
“Okay,” Gee said, slipping a soft elastic headband over her hair and pushing it back from her face. “I’ll tell you what to do.”
Frankie grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Gee tried not to smile at that. She handed Frankie a small pump bottle first. “That one. Just a little. Warm it up in your hands.”
Frankie did exactly as she was told, rubbing her palms together before gently pressing them to Gee’s cheeks. Her movements were careful, reverent almost. She smoothed the product over her skin slowly, thumbs brushing along her jaw, fingertips gliding up over her cheekbones. Gee closed her eyes immediately.
“You’re very bossy,” Frankie teased.
“Shh,” Gee whispered. “Focus.”
Frankie’s hands moved down to her neck, light and steady, and Gee exhaled softly. The room felt warm. Intimate. The soft glow of the lamp, the quiet hum of the house, the faint scent of Frankie’s lotion still lingering in the air.
“Okay,” Gee said after a minute, opening one eye. “Next step.”
Frankie obediently picked up the serum she was directed to, tapping it carefully onto Gee’s skin and smoothing it in. She was slower now, distracted by how pretty Gee looked like this—pink nightgown, hair pushed back, trusting her completely.
“You’re staring,” Gee said without opening her eyes.
“I’m allowed to,” Frankie replied immediately. “If I’ve never told you before—you’re very pretty.”
Gee’s mouth curved. “Face mask time,” she announced, handing Frankie the tube.
Frankie squeezed a little onto her fingers and gently spread it across Gee’s cheeks, forehead, chin—careful not to get too close to her eyebrows. Gee scrunched her nose once when it felt cold.
“Hold still,” Frankie laughed. When she was done, she leaned back to admire her work. “You look terrifying.”
Gee opened her eyes slowly. “Rude.”
“You look like a very beautiful swamp creature.”
Gee reached out and lightly swatted her knee and Frankie just laughed and grabbed the remote from her nightstand to turn on the TV, scrolling until she found something easy and familiar to play in the background. Something comforting they’d both seen a hundred times. The volume stayed low.
They sat shoulder to shoulder while the mask dried, Gee occasionally testing it with her fingertips. Frankie pretended not to notice the way Gee kept glancing at her.
Finally, Gee peeled it off carefully, wincing once and then smoothing her hands over her freshly cleaned skin. She turned to look at Frankie. And kept looking.
Frankie didn’t even look away from the TV. “No.”
Gee said nothing. Frankie sighed dramatically and turned her head to meet her eyes. “You’re about to ask me to let you put one on me.”
Gee’s eyes widened slightly. “How do you always know?”
“Because,” Frankie said, smiling softly now, “you get that look.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I want to take care of you too’ look.”
Gee’s expression melted just a little at that. “…Please?” Gee asked anyway, softer now. “Just this once. I’ll be gentle.”
Frankie studied her for a second, pretending to consider it. Then she shifted closer, tilting her chin up slightly. “Fine,” she said.
Gee beamed and she reached for the mask immediately. “Okay,” she said seriously, like this was a professional procedure. “Sit back.”
Frankie scooted back against her headboard and opened her legs slightly so Gee could settle between them. Gee climbed into her lap without hesitation, knees resting on either side of Frankie’s hips, nightgown pooling softly around her thighs.
Frankie’s hands automatically settled at Gee’s waist, a smile starting to creep onto her face as she looked her girlfriend up and down.
“Focus,” Gee said, but she was smiling too. She reached up to push Frankie’s hair back from her face, and immediately her bangs fell right back into place. Gee paused. Pushed them back again. They fell again.
Frankie snorted. “I think they’re too short.”
Gee narrowed her eyes. “Ugh.” She twisted around slightly and reached for something on the bedside table—a couple of tiny hair ties she’d left there weeks ago.
Frankie watched her with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
“Problem solving.”
Before Frankie could protest, Gee gently gathered the front section of her bangs and tied them into a tiny little sprout of a ponytail at the top of her head.
Frankie went very still. Gee leaned back to assess. Then she laughed softly—not mocking, just delighted. “Oh my god.”
Frankie squinted at her. “What.”
“You look so cute.”
Frankie’s cheeks went pink instantly. “I do not.”
“You absolutely do,” Gee insisted, quickly dividing the front section again and making two tiny ponytails instead, one on each side, so her bangs were completely out of her face.
Frankie just stared at her while Gee adjusted them carefully, smoothing the little pieces down with exaggerated concentration. When she was done, Gee leaned back again and just…looked. Her expression softened completely. “I love you so much. You look adorable.”
Frankie tried very hard not to melt. “You’re never seeing me like this again,” she muttered.
Gee laughed softly. “I know, I'm trying to take it in as much as I can.” She dipped her fingers into the face mask and gently brushed it onto Frankie’s cheek.
Frankie flinched at the cold. “Oh, that’s mean.”
“Hold still,” Gee laughed. “You were bossing me around five minutes ago.”
“I was bossing you around?”
“Uh huh.” She smoothed the mask carefully across Frankie’s face, thumbs gentle along her jawline. Frankie relaxed slowly under the attention, even if she pretended to grumble.
Gee finished and set the tube aside, then placed both hands lightly on Frankie’s shoulders to admire her work. They were very close now. “You’re so cute,” Gee whispered again, unable to help herself.
Frankie smiled and leaned forward slightly, reaching past Gee to grab the moisturizer again while the mask tightened across her own skin.
“You’re not done,” she reminded her, trying to sound serious even with two ridiculous little ponytails on top of her head.
Gee smiled and relaxed back into Frankie’s lap, tilting her chin up obediently and echoing Frankie from earlier. “Yes, ma’am.”
Frankie smirked a little and pumped a small amount into her hands and rubbed them together before pressing them gently to Gee’s cheeks. She moved slower this time—careful, deliberate strokes up along her jaw, over her cheekbones, down her neck. Her thumbs swept just under Gee’s ears, and Gee visibly relaxed under her touch. Her hands were so warm.
“You’re very good at this,” Gee murmured.
“I know,” Frankie said quietly, eyes focused. “I pay attention.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes, Frankie smoothing and blending while the show murmured softly in the background. It felt quiet and safe and theirs. Eventually Gee reached up and gently tapped Frankie’s cheek.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Your turn.” She carefully peeled the mask away from Frankie’s skin, slow and cautious so it didn’t tug too much. Frankie slightly winced once but stayed still, trusting her completely.
“There,” Gee said, setting the mask aside. “All clean.” She rubbed moisturizer between her palms the same way Frankie had done earlier, then cupped Frankie’s face gently and began to slowly rub in the clean smelling cream.
Frankie’s eyes closed—Gee’s touch was soft but intentional. She smoothed the moisturizer down her neck, over her jaw, lingering just a little like she was memorizing the shape of her. When she was done, she reached up and carefully removed the tiny hair ties, letting Frankie’s bangs fall naturally back into place.
“There,” Gee whispered.
Frankie opened her eyes. Gee was looking at her. Not just looking—staring. Soft. Fond. A little shy about it.
Frankie narrowed her eyes slightly. “Okay. What.”
Gee bit her lip, clearly caught.
Frankie smiled slowly. “What is it?”
Gee hesitated—and then, very quietly, very sweetly—
“…Will you let me brush your hair?”
Frankie’s expression softened immediately. “That’s what you wanted?”
Gee nodded once. “Please? Just…let me do it. I won’t tug. I just…” She shrugged a little. “I like taking care of you.”
Frankie smiled and pretended to consider it for half a second—dramatic pause and all—then gently adjusted their position so Gee could move.
“Okay,” she said softly. “You can.”
Gee brightened instantly, sliding off her lap just long enough to grab the brush from Frankie’s dresser before climbing back behind her on the bed.
Frankie settled between Gee’s legs now, leaning back against her chest. Gee started slowly, brushing from the ends upward just like she promised. Gentle strokes. One hand steadying Frankie’s shoulder while the other worked through her hair. Frankie exhaled softly.
“See?” Gee murmured. “Not scary.”
Frankie smiled and laughed softly, eyes closing again. “No,” she said. “It’s nice.”
Gee continued brushing, slower now, almost absentmindedly. It wasn't about detangling. It was about the rhythm. The closeness. The feeling of being trusted.
“You’re very cute,” Gee said quietly behind her.
Frankie huffed softly. “You already told me that.”
“I’m reminding you.”
Frankie tilted her head back just slightly, bumping it gently against Gee’s collarbone. “Okay,” she says. “But only because it’s you.”
Frankie’s hair didn’t take long. It was short enough that the brush moved through it easily, barely catching on anything. But Gee kept going anyway, slow, repetitive strokes from the back of Frankie’s head down toward her neck just because she knew Frankie loved it.
Frankie’s shoulders relaxed. Her head tipped back against Gee’s chest, eyes drifting closed as the steady rhythm continued.
“Sleepy?” Gee murmured softly above her.
Frankie hummed in response, the sound low and content. “Maybe.”
Gee smiled against the top of her head and switched from brushing to lightly combing her fingers through her hair instead, nails barely grazing her scalp. “There she is,” Gee whispered fondly. “My tough girl, completely defeated by a hairbrush.”
Frankie snorted. “Shut up.”
Gee leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Then another just behind her ear. Frankie sank further into her.
“You’re so pretty,” Gee murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Even when you pretend you’re not. Especially then.”
Frankie’s breathing evened out a little more and Gee wrapped her free arm loosely around Frankie’s waist, holding her steady against her. “I like taking care of you,” she admitted quietly. “You take care of me all the time. Let me do it sometimes.”
Frankie’s hand drifted back to rest over Gee’s thigh, squeezing gently in acknowledgement. Gee pressed a slow kiss to her temple. Then her cheek. Then the side of her jaw. “My girl,” she whispered.
Frankie made a soft, sleepy sound in protest that didn’t sound like protest at all. Gee smiled and kept brushing her fingers through her hair, gentle and unhurried. “Hey,” she whispered gently, moving her fingers once more through Frankie’s hair. “Baby.”
Frankie made a small noise but didn't open her eyes. Gee leaned down and pressed another soft kiss to her temple. “Before we actually go to sleep, I have to put my stuff away. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t run off without me.”
Frankie barely nodded, already drifting. Gee carefully shifted, easing Frankie down onto the pillows. She moved slowly, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other adjusting the blankets. Frankie immediately curled slightly onto her side, one hand resting where Gee had been.
Gee paused. God, she was cute.
She smoothed Frankie’s bangs gently out of her face before slipping off the bed. The hallway was dim when she stepped out, the house wrapped in that late night quiet. She carried her little pile of skincare bottles toward her room first, setting them neatly back on her dresser before heading to the bathroom.
The light was already on. Ray was at the sink, brushing her teeth, curls pulled back messily. She glanced up at Gee in the mirror.
“Sleepover stuff?” Ray mumbled around her toothbrush.
Gee smiled a little. “Yeah, she actually let me put a face mask on her.”
Ray nodded knowingly. “She out already?”
“Almost,” Gee said, rinsing her hands. “She was fighting it.”
Ray snorted softly. “Of course she was.”
They shared a quiet, fond little look—the kind that came from living together long enough to know each other’s patterns. By the time Gee finished putting everything away and headed back down the hall, the house was completely still. She pushed Frankie’s door open slowly.
The lamp was still on. Frankie was fully asleep now, curled on her side, one arm tucked under her pillow. Her breathing was soft and steady. The faint glow from the lamp made her look warm, almost golden.
Gee just stood there for a moment, admiring her. There was something about seeing Frankie asleep that always undid her a little—all the edges gone, no teasing smirk, no bravado. Just soft.
Gee closed the door quietly behind her and crossed the room on careful steps. She didn’t climb into bed right away—instead, she turned off the TV first. Then she dimmed the lamp slightly so it wasn’t too bright. She picked up the tiny hair ties from earlier and set them neatly on the nightstand, smiling to herself. Frankie didn’t stir.
Gee sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, just watching her. She reached out and very gently brushed her thumb along Frankie’s cheek.
“So pretty,” she whispered, barely audible.
Gee looked at her for another long moment before finally turning the lamp off and slipping under the covers carefully, inch by inch, making sure the mattress barely shifted. She kept her hands to herself, resisting the instinct to immediately wrap around Frankie like she usually did. Frankie needed the sleep.
Gee laid on her side for a moment, just watching her in the dim light from the window. She didn’t touch her. She just looked. Frankie’s brows twitched slightly in her sleep.
Then—
A tiny sound. A soft, high, almost indignant little whine. Gee froze.
Frankie shifted closer to the edge of the bed where Gee was, still asleep, lips parting slightly as she made another small, plaintive noise. Not upset. Just…searching.
Gee pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Oh my god,” she whispered under her breath.
Frankie made the sound again—softer this time—like a sleepy puppy who couldn’t find the warm spot she wanted.
Gee’s heart absolutely could not handle it. She reached her hands out towards her, not touching her still, but pretending to grab and squeeze her. Cuteness aggression hadn’t gotten the best of her yet, but she was pretty sure there would be some day in the future where she just wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and Frankie would end up with a cracked rib.
Frankie frowned faintly in her sleep and inched closer again, one hand stretching out across the mattress where Gee’s arm should be. That’s what she was looking for.
Gee screamed silently. She waited another second—just to make sure she wouldn’t wake her—and then very, very gently slid her hand into Frankie’s.
Frankie immediately relaxed. The frown disappeared. Her fingers curled instinctively around Gee’s like she’d been waiting for it, but she kept making those tiny noises. Little sleepy huffs. A faint whine. A soft hum in the back of her throat like she was dreaming about something just out of reach.
Gee bit her lip to keep from either crying or laughing, she wasn’t sure. “You’re the cutest fucking person alive, I wish I could eat you.” she whispered, barely audible.
Frankie shifted slightly, face scrunching for a second before relaxing again. Gee hesitated, then, very carefully—like she was testing a theory—she leaned over just a little and pressed the softest kiss to Frankie’s shoulder.
Frankie whined. Gee froze again.
It wasn’t upset. It wasn’t distressed. It was that same tiny, needy little sound—but warmer. Content.
Gee’s heart absolutely collapsed in on itself. “No way,” she breathed. She waited a second, then she tried again—this time a gentle kiss to Frankie’s cheek.
Frankie made the sound again, a soft sleepy protest that sounded suspiciously like more. Gee pressed her forehead against the pillow to muffle her reaction. “You cannot be fucking real.”
Frankie shifted closer in her sleep, still not waking, her fingers tightening faintly around Gee’s hand. Gee tried one more time—a very light kiss right at the corner of Frankie’s mouth.
Frankie let out the sweetest, tiniest whimper and nuzzled faintly toward her without opening her eyes. That was it, Gee melted completely.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, smiling so wide it almost hurt and pressing her face completely into her pillow. “You’re ridiculous. You’re literally ridiculous. I hate you, I love you, you’re perfect, what the fuck.”
Frankie settled again, breathing evening out, face relaxed and peaceful. Gee didn’t push it any further. She just lifted her head back up, unsure if she was about to cry as she watched her for a long moment, completely undone by how soft she was when she didn't even know anyone was looking.
Finally, Gee laid back down properly, still holding Frankie’s hand. “Goodnight, baby,” she murmured.
And this time, she let them both just rest there—quiet, warm, safe—while Frankie slept and occasionally made one last tiny, content sound that made Gee fall in love with her all over again.