So the more I listen to the music from Rock of Ages, the more obsessed I become with it. Franz and Regina in particular. Those two should be the main characters. It's like the whole Bernardo and Anita deal from West Side Story: they're just letting the real main characters pretend they're actually important. Everyone knows Bernardo, Anita, Franz, and Regina are the real stars of their shows.
But that's not the point. The point is that I wrote this soon-to-be two part fic for Regina and Franz that is so fluffy you'll probably gag on it.
Regina was always the first to fall asleep. She would never admit it, and Franz knew better than to argue about something so trivial. But to him that did not matter anyway. She could think whatever she liked as long as she kept falling asleep first.
She probably would have laughed at him if he told her why he liked falling asleep after she did. After all, he was the romantic of the two of them; Regina's idea of a date was holding hands as they jumped off some God-forsaken bridge protesting who knows what. But that did not matter, because Franz was happy no matter what they were doing.
No, the truth of the matter was, Franz loved watching Regina sleep. For a woman who was always on the go, she was a very peaceful sleeper. Her breathing was always steady and deep and her tiny frame went limp as soon as he head hit the pillow. Oftentimes one of her dainty little hands would close around the hem of the blankets or the edge of the pillow as she slept. Franz would never admit it, but sometimes he purposely rested his hand by her pillow in hopes that she would hold onto it.
Her curly, flyaway blonde hair would spread across her pillow and over her face, sticking up at odd angles. Franz would smooth it back, running his fingers through it gently. His fingertips would brush across her forehead sometimes, a ghost of the kisses he loved to plant there. Sometimes he would twist a lock of that blonde hair between his fingers, and more than once Regina had woken up to find tiny braids scattered in her mane of hair.
Sometimes Franz would run a careful finger across her cheek, down her jaw line and to her chin. Regina would never let him do this while she was awake, never understanding his love of such physical closeness. He was always gentle when touching her, as if afraid she would break if he pressed to hard. Regina, meanwhile, was one for bone-crushing hugs and quick kisses, never lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
But one thing Franz never did while Regina was asleep was kiss her. He felt that in order of a kiss to be meaningful, to be special, both people had to be awake. Both people had to be aware of it. After all, a kiss lost in slumber is the same as no kiss at all. For all Regina would know, he had never touched her at all, so Franz saved his kisses for when she awoke in the morning, saved them to make them special.
Franz would never admit it, but he was glad Regina fell asleep first, regardless of what she chose to believe. He loved watching her sleep, cherished those moments when he could openly stare at her without getting a snide comment in return, when he could feel her hair between his fingers, when he could finally see her at peace. He would let her believe anything she liked, as long as those moments were never taken away.