Hello, there! This is my first Grace & Frankie story and I am super excited! It's Grace/Frankie obvs. I had lots of fun with this. I may continue it on, if there are folks out there interested in this fandom. Please, leave a review and let me know what you think! Rated M for language and some good ol' sexual tension. (Also, side note: To those of you who follow my Monk stories and have me on update notifications, I am so very sorry for the embarrassingly long amount of time that has passed since a Monk update. I promise, I will get back to that story very soon.)
It had been a long day for Grace Hanson. A two-hour-long unsuccessful meeting for work and an impromptu visit by her not-so-favorite ex-husband and the love of his life had been quite enough for one day. She settled into the warm bath water, closing her eyes and resting her head against the spa pillow. The incense she had once fought Frankie on was now burning on the ledge next to the tub and, she had to admit, it was relaxing. Her body was willing her to fall asleep, but she'd heard far too many horror stories about people her age and bathtubs, so she attempted to "meditate" instead as Frankie had been trying to teach her to do. She didn't understand how the other woman could do this "calming the monkey mind" thing every single day. Probably has something to do with the pot. Which reminded Grace to reach over and finish off the last of her martini.
Frankie sat cross-legged in her meditation swing, taking a long, deep drag from her freshly rolled joint. She and Grace had had quite the eventful day and, although the specifics hadn't particularly stressed her out, when Grace was feeling this wound up, it affected her too. It bothered Frankie to see Grace hunched over from a knot in her shoulders, her brows furrowed together in a mixture of pain and exasperation. This ganja was doing her some good, though. She sighed peacefully, exhaling her concern and allowing the power of meditation to wash over her.
"Oooaawhhh!"
A strangled screech pierced the silence of the beach house, jolting her out of her trance.
"Grace?" She called out.
No response.
Frankie flung herself out of the swing. The periphery of her vision darkened and little white stars sparkled across the room, thanks to the amazing pot and the whole standing-up-way-too-fast thing. She steadied herself momentarily before making her way towards the stairs.
"Grace?" She called again. "Don't worry, help is on the way!"
Grace could hear the lilt of marijuana intoxication thick in her voice.
"Fuck," she muttered.
Her back had gone out as she had started to get up out of the bathtub. She had tried several more times, but to no avail. Her back was screwed. And now here she was, stark naked, wet, shivering, and in pain, as she listened to Frankie's clogs clunking up the stairs.
"Fuuuck."
"Grace!"
Frankie burst the bathroom door wide open, expecting to see Grace underwater or lying unconscious on the floor. As the view came into focus and she met Grace's piercing glare, she realized Grace was very much conscious.
"Frankie, please, I'm naked."
"A phrase I've been wanting to hear for decades," The brunette quipped, smirking.
Grace felt her face flush hot with embarrassment and some other unidentified emotion.
"Of course," the brunette continued, "I was hoping it would have been under different circumstances."
"Frankie," She grumbled, burying her face in her hands.
"I'm sorry. What happened, Grace? Your scream jarred me from my meditative state. Why didn't you answer me when I called? "
"Again, I'm naked," Grace retorted.
"I think you and I feel differently about that fact," Frankie replied without missing a beat, shooting a cheesy grin her way.
"Oh, dear God," Grace sighed, rolling her eyes. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her arms tightly around them. "It's my back," she groaned.
"Oh no," Frankie gasped, all signs of humor draining from her eyes. "Grace, are you okay?" She stepped forward, her face etched with concern.
"Just peachy."
"Do I need to call the kids?"
"No!" Grace yelped, a little more loudly than she had intended. "No, Frankie, please," she pleaded, her voice softening. "This is embarrassing enough as it is. I can't have anyone else here witnessing my body on full display as I'm wrangled out of the tub."
"And what a body it is," Frankie remarked.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Frankie, keep it in your goddamn pants."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you know when I'm scared and high, my only defense mechanism is humor."
"Just help me, please," Grace snapped, beyond exasperated at this point.
Frankie jumped into action, first draining the water from the tub. Then she grabbed Grace's towel and wrapped it snugly around her shivering frame, leaving her arms free so that she could grab onto Frankie.
"Alright, darlin'," Frankie began, bending down over the tub. "I want you to put your arms around me and hold on as tight as you can, okay?"
Grace obeyed, and as Frankie began to lift up, she wrapped her arms around Grace's waist. Both women groaned loudly as they struggled to make their way upright. Frankie gripped Grace tighter, terrified she might slip on the wet surface of the tub. With great difficulty, she hoisted the blonde over the edge of the tub, letting her feet find the floor. A sharp pain was radiating down her own back now but she pushed through it, focusing on Grace. The blonde was upright now, but Frankie could tell she still wasn't stable.
"I've got to get you into the bedroom." Frankie grunted, her breath hot against Grace's ear as she struggled to hold her body up against her own.
Now that she was out of the tub and feeling a bit less panicked, Grace felt her face flush warm again. It was Frankie's damn fault. All the sexual innuendos had put her mind in the gutter. Relax. It's Frankie for God's sake.
The two women clambered awkwardly through the hallway, bumping into a table and almost knocking over a lamp. Once they had made it into Grace's bedroom, Frankie backed her right up against the edge of the foot of the bed.
"Alright, I'm going to lay you down backwards, but I'm not feeling so fantastic at the moment, so I'm going to have to go down with you for a second, okay?"
Grace nodded.
Keeping her arms tight around the blonde's torso, Frankie essentially laid down on top of her in order to get her down flat onto her back. The brunette's hair cascaded over her face, tickling her eyelids and nose and lips. Grace felt a rush of heat rise up in her stomach and she closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of patchouli and marijuana. Frankie began to snake her arms out from underneath Grace but realized she couldn't stand up because the blonde's arms were still around her neck.
"Honey," Frankie rasped, her cheek pressed against the blonde's, "You kinda have to let go of me."
Grace blushed, quickly releasing their embrace. Frankie raised up slowly, so as to not strain her back any further. She groaned, stretching her arms above her head. The sudden loss of warmth quickly reminded Grace of the fact that she was still damp and naked, with just the towel wrapped around her torso. Fuck. The pain from her back had radiated down into her arms and she knew there was no way she could get dressed on her own. She bit her lip, knowing that Frankie was sure to make some slick remark and she didn't know if she could handle anymore because she was already feeling more confusing feelings than she wanted to acknowledge.
"Frankie," she began, doing her best to keep her voice measured, "I'm going to need you to help me get dressed. Try to control yourself," she quipped, in her attempt to beat Frankie to the innuendo punch.
Frankie smiled, amused by the blonde's remark.
"Okay, okay," she replied, holding her hands up in feigned surrender.
"Alright, I need some...underwear," Grace sighed.
Frankie opened the top drawer of Grace's dresser, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy at the thought of plunging her hand into the heap of silk.
"Any particular pair?" She asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yes, my lacy black thong," Grace retorted, rolling her eyes.
Frankie shook her head, struggling to force that image out of her mind. She reached for the red silky pair right on top. She held them up towards Grace.
"These okay?" She asked quietly.
Grace nodded.
Suddenly there was an unexpected tension in the room and both women shifted uncomfortably.
"Um, okay, pajamas," Frankie muttered.
"Just get me the t-shirt, screw pants," Grace instructed, realizing her mistake after it was already too late.
"Grace Hanson in a t-shirt?" Frankie teased. "I didn't know you even owned a t-shirt."
"Bottom right drawer," Grace replied, her voice uneasy but tinged with amusement.
Frankie opened the drawer and retrieved the lone t-shirt she found there. Grace winced, knowing what was coming next.
"Heeeyy," Frankie frowned, holding the shirt up in front of her, "This is mine!" She stomped her foot lightly, shooting a glare Grace's way. "Why do you have my 34th Annual Fungi Festival t-shirt?! I thought I lost this in 1999!"
"You left it here one weekend when you and Sol had stayed here. Somehow it ended up in my load of laundry. I found it when I was folding my clothes and I, well..." The blonde trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"So, you just kept it?" Frankie asked, raising an accusatory eyebrow.
"It just looked so comfortable," Grace admitted sheepishly. "It was all worn and soft. And I was so drunk. I just wanted to try it on to see what it would feel like, but once I got it on, I passed out on the couch. And the next morning I just...decided to keep it. I don't know why."
Frankie could hear the discomfort in her voice and decided not to press her further on the issue.
"Okay, I'm going to let this slide...for now. But don't think I'm not going to revisit this issue later, little lady," she warned, walking back over to the bed and wagging a finger at Grace. "Alright, we're gonna have to get this towel off."
Grace nodded, closing her eyes. Frankie noticed the bright pink flush that spread across the blonde's face and chest. She felt the nervousness return. Reaching out a tentative hand, she carefully peeled the damp fabric away from Grace's body. Her eyes timidly scanned the blonde. Grace really was in amazing shape. Well, except for the whole back issue that was currently happening. Frankie cursed herself for it but she truly couldn't help but admire the other woman for just a moment. Frankie had always loved the human form, being the artist that she was. And the form in front of her really was a beautiful sight. She couldn't help but sneak a quick glance between Grace's legs, always fascinated by female genitalia, something she had never really questioned until this moment. She noted Grace's neatly trimmed hair, marveled at the stark way it differed from the unruly curls between her own legs. Suddenly the room felt about ten degrees warmer.
"Um, earth to Frankie?"
"Fuck, sorry," she muttered, swiping at the sheen of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. "So, can you, uh, move at all?" She asked. "Like prop yourself up on your elbows or something?"
"I don't think so," Grace groaned.
"It's okay," Frankie reassured her– or maybe she was reassuring herself. "Alright, I'm going to put these on you."
She reached out, her fingers grazing the arches of Grace's feet as she slipped the panties over her ankles. Grace inhaled sharply, her legs flinching slightly.
"Ticklish, huh?" Frankie asked, trying to regain some sense of control through her humor.
When Grace didn't respond, Frankie glanced up at her. The blonde's breathing had become more labored as evidenced by her chest heaving up and down, and Frankie felt her own pulse quicken. She forced her eyes away from the blonde's bare chest, doing her best to focus all of her attention back on the task at hand. She slid the silky garment up further, her hands now gliding up the smooth expanse of Grace's thighs. She heard the blonde stifle a small sigh and Frankie suddenly felt as though she couldn't swallow. There was really no other way to do this, she knew, but this was becoming almost torturous. Apparently, for the both of them. Although Frankie knew what was happening, she didn't have a fucking clue why it was happening. But she couldn't afford to think about it. She had to press on. Her hands now hovered over Grace's hips.
"So," she choked out, mortified at the way her voice cracked as she spoke. "Y-you don't think you can lift your hips?"
"I don't," Grace replied, her voice barely a whisper.
"Okay, I'm going to do my best here."
Frankie slipped her hand underneath Grace at the small of her back and, with some effort, rolled her up slightly onto her side. Her eyes involuntarily flicked down to Grace's toned behind, the one she had only ever admired beneath snug jeans until now, and she felt her mouth go dry. She quickly tugged the waistband of the panties up with one hand, while maneuvering Grace with the other. It took a few moments but finally the damn things were on. Frankie dislodged her hand from underneath Grace and stepped backwards slightly, taking a second to try and control her breathing. After a moment, she climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to Grace as she clutched the t-shirt in her sweaty palm.
"You okay?" She asked softly.
"I'm fine," Grace replied, cringing internally at the tremor in her voice.
Frankie suddenly wanted to ask her a barrage of a million other questions but she just muttered a quick "okay".
She slipped Grace's arms through the sleeves of the shirt first, letting it drape across the blonde's breasts for a moment so that she could actually concentrate long enough to decide what to do.
She reached out, unable to stop herself from gently running her fingers through Grace's hair before moving her hand beneath the her head. Grace's eyes fluttered shut as she bit her lip. Frankie blushed, feeling a sudden bolt of electricity course through her chest. She quickly lifted the shirt over Grace's head and shimmied it down, finally covering the blonde's torso.
"Okay," Frankie exhaled deeply.
Grace had kept her eyes closed for most of the ordeal, telling herself that she was imagining whatever she thought she was hearing in Frankie's voice. But the brunette's "okay" had sounded so incredibly relieved, she had to steal a glance her way. Their eyes met and Grace's stomach flip-flopped, unable to deny the palpable tension now that she was able to see the look in Frankie's eyes. The brunette swallowed hard before she spoke.
"We need to get you up onto that pillow." Frankie shifted slightly, dropping her voice to no more than a whisper. "Giving you a heads up, this might be a bit much, but I don't know how else to do it."
In one smooth motion, Frankie was straddling Grace, one knee on each side of her. Frankie's muumuu had hitched up around her hips and Grace gasped at the searing heat of the brunette's bare thighs against her own. Frankie swallowed hard, scooped her up in one arm, and used the other arm to pull her up onto to the pillow. Once again, Frankie's hair was enveloping Grace's face, and the blonde suddenly felt lightheaded. Frankie's face was so close to hers that Grace could feel her warm breath tickle her lips when she spoke.
"You better be glad my back's okay," Frankie rasped.
The brunette's husky tone stirred an ache between her legs, and Grace desperately clenched her thighs together.
"Woah. I felt that," Frankie teased, subconsciously licking her lips.
"Fuck, Frankie, what is happening?" Grace asked, her voice sounding uncharacteristically helpless.
"Whatever you want." Frankie had meant to sound neutral and relaxed but her voice had come out desperate and hungry, and her body had pressed its way more firmly against the blonde's.
Grace heard a strangled moan escape her own lips as her hips involuntary bucked up against Frankie. She squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly feeling as though she should crawl underneath a rock and never return.
"Grace," Frankie pleaded gently, "Look at me."
"I can't," she whispered.
"Why not?" The brunette asked softly.
"I'm honestly afraid of what I might do."
"What might you do?" Frankie pressed, drawing in a shaky breath.
"I'm not sure," Grace deflected.
She felt Frankie start to move and she suddenly found the ability to move her arms, grasping the brunette's thighs.
"I didn't say I wanted you to leave," Grace whispered, her voice trembling. "I just...Need a minute."
Frankie nodded, unable to think about anything other than Grace's soft hands on her thighs. Balancing on her knees was becoming increasingly difficult, so she focused her attention on the stunning sight beneath her. Seeing the outline of Grace's firm nipples beneath her old t-shirt was unbelievably arousing, and it felt like her brain was being stirred around like the murky water in her paint cup. Her thighs started to shake, a combination of the prolonged time spent in this position and the blonde's warm palms. As Grace rubbed both of her thumbs lightly across the soft skin beneath, it was all too much for Frankie.
"Fuuuck, Grace."
Frankie rolled off of the blonde, grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed and tossing it up over Grace before flopping onto her back and letting out a trembling exhale. The sudden loss of contact left Grace feeling positively bereft and she emitted a soft whimper.
"Frankie," she groaned, "why did you have to move?"
"Because," the brunette replied, still catching her breath, "Your back is fucked up and if I did what I wanted to do right now, I'd fuck it up even more. So, it was either that, or get the hell off of you."
Grace blushed bright red, Frankie's words stirring something inside of her that she hadn't felt in decades. She'd forgotten all about her damn back. Hell, she'd nearly forgotten where they were or what they were doing.
Several quiet moments passed, the two women listening to nothing but the sounds of their labored breathing.
"So," Grace began, chewing nervously on her lip, "It seems like we have a lot to talk about."
"Yes, it does," the brunette agreed, her voice a bit more level than before. "But right now, you need rest. Do you want me to get you a pain pill or something?"
"No, I'm actually okay right now. But...Frankie?" She asked, reaching over and lightly touching the brunette's arm. "Would you mind staying with me until I fall asleep? I really don't want you to leave yet," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper.
The vulnerable request melted Frankie's heart. She could push through all of her powerful and conflicting emotions if it meant she had the ability to make Grace feel happy and comforted.
"Sure thing, sweetheart."
She reached over and turned off the lamp, then cautiously searched for Grace's hand in the safety of the darkness. Once she found it, she gave it a little squeeze before lacing their fingers together. A broad smile spread across the Grace's face as she quickly and easily drifted off into sleep.