Pairing/Show: Frank x Laurel, Flaurel, How to Get Away with Murder.
Word Count: 3, 005.
A/N: I have not written in months. I have not published in years. So please be nice in your comments and enjoy :)
"Just tell me."
He wants to. He wants to tell her with every fiber of his being, but he knows that if he does this… thing… whatever the hell they are doing, is going to come to an end within a matter of minutes. Frank can't decide if it's worse for him not to tell her and not risk losing her, or to tell her and never see her again.
She gives him a reassuring kiss to calm whatever nerves seem to have taken over. He deepens the kiss, pulling her closer, and wrapping his arm around her waist. Laurel welcomes the intimacy by straddling him, using the sofa as leverage to settle herself in the exact position she wants.
His beard is as prickly as she remembers as she runs her fingers over it, making her way to the back of his head. He grabs her hips firmly, pulling her down so that there is more pressure between them where they need it most. She moans her approval into his mouth. Their kiss is passionate with tongues delving deep into each other's mouths and teeth scraping the others lips. Laurel begins to thrust her hips against Frank; seeking the relief she's needed from him for far too long.
Frank gets hard so quickly it's almost painful. His grip tightens as she begins to move against him, and all he can think about is flipping her over and fucking her so hard she screams his name over and over again. It's been too damn long. But then he sees Lila's face; her life slowly slipping away as his thumb pressed on her windpipe.
He knows he has to tell her.
For a split second he thinks about having sex with her this one last time. Hell, she seems to have forgotten all about the conversation they were having. Why can't it wait a few more hours? Once they're both so satisfied they can barely move. He knows that will make him more of a scumbag than he all ready is though, and puts the thought far out of his mind.
"Laurel." He breathes as pushes her away softly.
The disappointment in her eyes is so heavy it almost makes him chuckle. She wanted this just as badly as he did, but when she realizes he is finally ready to talk she straightens up and slides off of him and back onto the sofa.
He takes her in one last time, knowing she is going to be out that door once she knows what kind of man he really is. Her hair is messy and her lips are red from his teeth brushing across them. Her legs are crossed with her palms planted flatly on her thighs. Her eyes are full of wonder and curiosity, and just a little bit of fear.
"I…"
He begins, but the words don't want to come out. He looks away, letting out the breath he had been holding.
"Frank."
Laurel calls his attention back to her. When he looks at her with deep worry in his eyes, she feels the dread begin to seep into her blood. Trying to ease both their nerves she reaches for his hand. Frank sits up straight then takes her hand, brushing his thumb against her knuckles.
"I…" he starts again. Focusing on a specific spot on the couch, he clears his throat, and then looks her dead in the eyes to deliver the news that will change their relationship forever.
"I killed Lila."
"What?" She asks, anxiety beginning to pulse through her.
"I killed Lila. I strangled her and stuffed her into the water tank. Not Sam."
He can see her mind begin to race as her eyes dart back and forth. She bites her lip trying to make sense of the information.
"I have to go." She says, standing abruptly, dropping his hand like a huge chunk of ice.
She haphazardly throws on her sweater and grabs her purse, her mind still going a million miles a minute.
He knew this would happen, but for some reason it still leaves him stunned. He sits there watching her, motionless, unable to more or think. It's not until she is making her way to the front door that he realizes he could be losing her forever.
Frank lurches from the couch, hoping to do something to keep her from leaving. He reaches Laurel just as her hand grabs the door handle, and puts his hand over hers to keep her from opening it. He wraps his other hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
"Laurel…" He whispers as he breathes in the sweet smell of honey from her conditioner.
"Please don't go," he pleads with her, "please."
He lets go when he feels her start to turn around to face him.
She does not know how this is happening. An hour ago they were having dinner at a quiet little Italian restaurant, talking and laughing about how crazy their latest case was and how easy it was going to be to get the evidence thrown out in court. The star witness was a psychopath doctor after all. And she does not know how ten minutes ago they were about to make love, the most intimate thing that ties a couple together, and now they could very well be over and done with for good.
There are a lot of unanswered questions she needs to figure out.
She needs to be alone.
Finally looking up at him, she sees all the pain and suffering he holds in those gorgeous blue eyes. It is as if the whole world stands still when everything clicks in her mind.
Frank stares at her, wondering what the hell she could possibly thinking, and questioning why she isn't running. She doesn't look at him for a few minutes, but when she does it is as if someone finally gave her the missing puzzle piece. He sees her mind go into overdrive.
Laurel drops to her knees and begins to sob. Frank tries to comfort her, but she pushes him away with a force even she did not know she possessed.
Frank is the reason Rebecca went on trial for a murder she did not commit. Frank is the reason the Stangard's had to bury their baby girl, and then bury her again after the second autopsy. Frank is the reason Nate went to prison for them. Frank is the reason her life has been a crazy mess this past year. Frank is the reason Sam is dead.
Frank is the reason she is a murderer.
Laurel cries for what seems like hours, and Frank has no idea how to comfort her. How can he comfort her when he is the reason she feels like this?
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as tries to catch her breath from sobbing so hard. She keeps flashing back to the night Sam died. She can still hear Michaela's screams when she pushed him over the stairs. She can still feel the grit, grime, and dirt on her face. She can still smell the stench of his burning body.
Then her mind goes to Lila. What motive did Frank have to kill Lila? Did he sleep with her? Was he sleeping with her when Sam was? Was he actually the father of her unborn child?
Switching to the analytical part of her brain seems to calm Laurel down. Her breathing steadies and the tears stop flowing. She stands up from the floor and straightens her clothing.
Breathing out a sigh, Frank stands along with her. She twists a ring on her finger while her mind keeps spinning. After a few moments she finally gets the courage to look up at him, and ask the question she cannot find the answer to.
"Why?"
It's a simple question that he knows will put him more in the red.
"Why?" He questions back.
"Why did you kill her?" Her voice still raw from crying so much.
He decides that telling her that he did it for Sam will not be enough, and that adding another body to his count in her knowledge can't hurt him anymore than the first one did.
"I did it for Sam." He begins, looking down at his hands. "I killed a guy right after I started working for Annalise. Right after I had been kicked out of community. I had hooked up with this girl at a bar, and she was covered in bruises. I asked her what the hell had happened, and she said her ex had it in for her. I brushed it off because all I wanted was a quick fuck. Two days later her body was found in an alley ins south Philly. I tracked down her piece of shit ex-boyfriend and beat him to a bloody pulp. I punched his face so hard that I fractured his skull, pushing his nasal bone into his brain. He ended up bleeding out though his nose."
He pauses to see her reaction, finding her face still full of questions.
"I didn't know what to do. I was just a young dumb kid. I went to Annalise's house, but she was with a client. Sam answered the door and saw what a mess I was. I spilled my guts to him and he took pity on me. He made some calls and got the whole thing cleaned up. Hell, the police still think the guys just missing. No one ever found out."
He starts to pace the floor.
"So when Sam called and told me he wanted me to kill Lila… I didn't want to you know? He had talked to me about it before, but I thought he was joking. I never thought he'd actually… I told him that I wasn't that guy anymore. That's when he reminded me that I owed him."
His voice rises on the last sentence and his blood boils with rage. He swings at near by lamp, knocking it to the floor and breaking it. Laurel jumps back in fright, letting out a small gasp that brings Frank out of his rage and back to her.
"So now you know… what kind of man I really am. A killer." He takes a deep breath. "I have to live with what I've done, but you… you shouldn't have to. Everything that's happened… Sam… That's all on me."
"Frank-" Laurel starts, but he doesn't let her finish.
"No Laurel. That's not the only bad thing I've done. I've planted evidence. I've made evidence disappear. I've done things to help the bad guys like me go free. Nate's print on Sam's ring? That was me. You know how you thought Rebecca was dead? Well she is. I incinerated her body after Bonnie smothered her. I made you go talk to Lila's mom because I couldn't speak to the mother of the woman who's daughter and grandchild I killed."
It all pours out of him like hot lava. Burning his mouth with every word. When he is done he breathes deep and blows the air out as if he is trying to blow all the bad things he's done away.
"You should go."
"Frank-"
"No, Laurel. Get out of here."
His words sting her whole body as she turns on her heel to leave. She doesn't take a step, however, she stops to process all the information that has just been thrown at her.
Yes, Frank killed Lila, but did Frank kill Sam? No. Yes, it was because of Frank that they suspected Sam was the killer, but wasn't Sam just as guilty for ordering Frank to commit the murder? Laurel has also never questioned that had Wes not struck and killed Sam with the trophy that night Sam would have strangled Rebecca, and probably have pinned it all on them.
Laurel turns sharply on her heel and stomps back toward him. Reaching him, she grabs Frank's face and pulls his face to hers, kissing him so hard it makes him groan and dig his hands into her waist.
The room is about a thousand degrees as hands fly every which way, lips crash against each other, and tongues dance back and forth between mouths. Laurel kicks off her shoes while tearing Frank's waistcoat and shirt from his body while he undoes his belt and sends his pants and boxers to the floor. Stepping out of his clothes, Frank yanks Laurel's sweater and shirt over her head, and immediately tears her bra off of her chest. Wasting no time, he drags her skirt and panties to the ground, kissing his way up her thighs as he stands.
When they are both completely naked, Frank picks her up and walks them to his bedroom. Throwing her on the bed, he notes that this is the first time they have been completely naked in front of one another in every possible way. He crawls on top of her and begins to knead her nipple between his thumb and pointer fingers. Laurel thrusts her hips against him, hoping to point out exactly what she wants at this moment. Frank obliges and quickly slides into her, making them both moan in pleasure.
It's quick, but at the same time it's slow. They match each other's rhythm, feeling as though they can never get enough of this moment. There is no talking. Just groans and small screams in tandem with how their bodies are communicating. They go until they both can't take anymore, meeting the rush of white-hot heat together.
When they finally come down from their high, Frank slips out of Laurel and lies back against the covers. Pulling her on top of his chest, he reaches to place the blankets on top of them. Once everything falls into place they both drift into a deep sleep, exhausted from all the revelations of the night.
They sleep the entire next day, except for about five minutes when Annalise calls around eleven and screams about why he isn't there yet and does he know where the hell Ms. Castillo is. Frank explains that they went out to dinner last night and got food poisoning. He says Laurel is in the bathroom puking her guts out while he is on the sofa with the garbage bin on standby. He can feel the eye roll through the phone and he knows there is no way in hell she believes him, but he knows they are in the clear when she lets out huge groan.
"Fine," Annalise seethes, "But you better be at work by eight o'clock sharp tomorrow Frank, and if Ms. Castillo is late even one minute for class I will fail her for the semester."
"You got it." Frank complies. When he hears nothing he knows she has hung up.
Frank wakes up around four to Laurel running her nails over his chest. Stilling her hand, he brings it up to his lips and kisses her fingertips.
"Hey." He groans out. Sleep still overcoming his senses.
"Hi." She responds quietly.
His eyes open fully as he raises his brow to ask her what she's thinking about.
"I know I can't tell anyone about anything you told me last night, and I won't, but I was wondering if anyone else knows?"
"No one. Except Sam and he took it to the grave as far as I know." He answers quickly. "Well Annalise… She knows Bonnie killed Rebecca. She's the one who had me dispose of the body. She doesn't know anything else though."
Laurel stares deep into his eyes for what feels like eternity before giving a response.
"Okay."
"Okay?" Frank questions, as if that is all she could want to know.
"Okay." She smiles, letting him know that everything is fine.
"Okay." Frank smiles back, moving so that he is on top of her. Ready to make her scream his name once again.
It is about seven when Laurel finally gets up to go back to her apartment. She makes her way to the living room, collecting all the strewn clothing thrown about. She is thankful he only tore off her bra; otherwise the cab ride home would be quite awkward.
Frank gets up and puts on some boxers and a white tee shirt, watching Laurel pull her skirt up her legs.
"You sure you don't want to stay for dinner? I make a mean manicotti." He calls out to her from the bedroom.
"I would love to," she smiles as she puts on her shoes, "but I have to get home and see what I've missed from class today."
He grabs her hand to help her stand up even though she doesn't need it.
"Sure you don't want me to drive you home?" He asks, hoping to spend more time with her.
"No I… I need some alone time to think and process everything."
She sees his eyes go to the floor as he turns away from her.
"Frank." She calls out as she takes two large steps to reach him. She turns him back around and pulls him in for a deep kiss.
When they separate Laurel rests her forehead against his, feeling the worry lines wrinkling his face.
"We're going to be okay." She whispers.
He pulls away to look her in the eyes before asking, "How do you know?"
"I just do." She answers and gives him another long kiss.
When they finally pull away, Laurel grabs her bag and heads for the door. Looking over her shoulder she gives him a small genuine smile.
"I'll let you know when I get home. Okay?"
"Okay."
She smiles at him one last time before going out the door.
Frank sits back on the sofa and rests his heads behind his hands. He studies the ceiling as he thinks about the last twenty-four hours.
He doesn't know such an amazing girl like Laurel ended up in his life, but he knows he never wants her to leave.