Heart's Price
by Severitus
--Part 3--
The Haven was crowded when Frank arrived, parking his car well away from the building so as not to stand out against the higher-class vehicles. A nervous shiver ran down his spine when he spotted Julian's black Jag parked near the door. A few of the regulars stood outside talking, and waved as he approached. Frank waved back distractedly, trying not to focus on the fact that the doorman didn't even eye him distastefully anymore.
Trying to keep a low profile, Frank kept to the edge of the room as he entered the club, eyes scanning the crowd. He wasn't sure what he'd hoped to accomplish by coming. On one hand, he wanted to see Julian. It had been several days since their last encounter, and work had prevented him from stopping by the Haven. On the other hand…he felt embarrassed. How would Julian react to seeing him? Since they were in public, would it be the same as always, or would the Prince expect something more? Did he want to announce it to the other Kindred so openly, or had he told them already? Swallowing thickly past the lump in his throat, he almost didn't hear Lillie calling his name from across the room.
She was dressed beautifully as always, but this time her slinky dress and seductive smile didn't so much as make him blink. Rather, it was the Kindred at her side that snared his attention. Julian was there, his dark hair gleaming in the flickering lights from the stage. A half-filled wineglass was clutched in his left hand, but his attention was focused on Frank. Aware that he probably looked like a star-struck fool, Frank shook his head and approached, trying to keep from running to the table. Cash had pulled up a chair near Lily so he could watch the crowds, and he was wearing a knowing smirk as Frank approached.
"Hi," Frank said lamely, directing it to no one in particular.
"Detective Kahonek. Why don't you join us for a change?" Lillie invited, waving to the seat across from her and Julian.
"Sure. Uh…thanks," he said, sliding stiffly into the seat. His eyes kept flicking to the man next to her, and he could feel the Prince's heavy gaze locked onto him.
"I heard they've been keeping you busy these last few days," Julian said suddenly, and Frank jerked, his eyes unconsciously locking on the Prince's.
"Yeah. Department's decided we need a new filing system. We've all been stuck plowing through three years worth of paperwork."
"No new exciting cases, then?"
"Nah. Why? Has something come up?"
"No, not yet. I have been warned that there might be some unpleasantness heading our way, however."
"Ah. Well, I'll be sure to keep my eyes open."
"Thank you, Frank," Julian said. They fell silent, each unerringly finding their gaze drawn to the other. Lillie flicked her eyes between the two men, a tiny wrinkle between her brows betraying her confusion.
"Has…something occurred that I should know about?" she asked softly. Julian and Frank both flushed, drawing back into their seats. Frank took to toying with the unlit candle centerpiece, rolling the object between his hands, while Julian casually sipped his wine with far more attention than called for. Cash's reaction, however, was the most intriguing. He burst into loud, raucous laughter.
"I knew it. I am missing out on something here. How is it, Julian, that both Cash and Frank are aware of something that I am not?" Lillie turned, fixing the Prince with the full force of her glare. Julian blinked, his expression priceless. Frank sighed, and dropped his head into his hands.
"How is it that the existence of an entire species can be kept secret for thousands of years, but an entire city suddenly can tell when two people have kissed? How does that make any sense?" Frank blurted, shaking his head. Beside them, Cash broke into a renewed fit of laughter. Lillie looked utterly gob smacked. Then, she grinned.
"At last! I was wondering when you two would get over your male egos and take action," Lillie said, and, smirking, leaned back in her seat.
"Wait…how did you know we liked each other? Hell, even I didn't know," Frank demanded, affronted despite himself.
"A Toreador knows these things. And besides…you couldn't stop talking about each other, even though you probably didn't realize it."
"And after tonight, it's likely that every Kindred here will have guessed that something is going on between you two. Everyone's noticed that something's changed," Cash said, wiping red tinged tears of laughter from his eyes. The four looked out into the club, noticing for the first time that more than a few heads kept turning their way, watching them with poorly disguised curiosity.
"Well, fuck it then," Frank grumbled, and then sat up straight in his seat, running a nervous hand through his shaggy hair. "Julian…would you allow me to treat you to dinner tomorrow night? My place?" Frank said, and then cleared his throat self-consciously. Cash and Lillie were watching expectantly.
Julian grinned, and, taking Frank's hand discreetly across the table, said, "It would be my pleasure."
----
Straightening his jacket, Julian paused on the steps to Frank's front door. Rather than driving and possibly arousing questions among the members of the staff that did not yet know of his new relationship with the detective, he'd chosen to take wing and fly in hawk form. It had also given him ample time to calm his frazzled nerves.
Nerves… Julian laughed at himself. He was acting quite pathetic, really. It had been a very long time since he felt so out of control of himself. Though he'd had many lovers over the years, most had been mere pursuits of passion…the result of two lonely people desperate for the closeness of another person. Rarely, however, had anyone tugged on his heart so powerfully. He still could not fully comprehend how Frank Kahonek had come to be such a person. It was true that he had taken an immediate liking to the detective. He was smart, witty, charming in his own rugged way…and stubborn as a mule. His loyalty to his friends and his career was awe inspiring.
At first Julian had thought of Frank as a mere curiosity…a human who knew the Kindred's secret, and yet neither feared them nor hated them. He'd thrown himself into their midst with the same zeal that he approached each of his cases. Before Julian had realized it, Frank had become a trusted friend. He'd come to enjoy the mortal's company…his unique perspective on Kindred affairs, his often crass humor, the startling insight which made him such a formidable detective. Soon, Frank had begun to seek him out of his own volition, and not always for business purposes. Frequently they'd simply met at the diner to share a cup of coffee, or chatted amiably while they mingled at the Haven. He hadn't thought anything of it until Daedalus had commented one day on the amount of time he spent in the mortal's company. From there, Julian had quickly realized that there was more to his interest in the detective than camaraderie. The times he'd found himself searching for an excuse to brush against the other man as they walked, or to touch his fingers as a wine glass was passed, the desperate desire to seek out the man's presence, to hear his voice, to touch him, were explainable only by a slowly nurtured love for the man. And now…it was far too late to turn back. Even now, it took only a second's imagining to feel the detective's warm lips on his own, his lean body pressed flush to his….
Julian shook his head to clear it. Soon enough he would relive the sensation again. There was no use in lingering on the doorstep out of nervousness. Steeling himself, the Prince rang the doorbell, nostrils flaring as the scent of fresh bread and tomato sauce wafted from beyond the door. The sound of a pan being hastily dropped shattered the silence of the darkening evening, and soon the multiple locks on the door clicked undone.
Frank stood in the doorway, his mouth dropped open in mild surprise. A dishtowel was thrown haphazardly over one shoulder, and though he wore his trademark blue-jeans, he wore a rich burgundy dress shirt. His hair, still damp from a shower, curled against his cheeks and smelled mildly of soap. The urge to reach out and tuck the damp curls behind the man's ears was difficult to resist. Julian was secretly glad that Frank had allowed his hair to grow longer…it gave his face an exotic look that suited him very well.
"You seem surprised to see me," Julian said, and Frank flushed, before opening the door wide to let the other man in.
"Just surprised that you used the front door," Frank said, smirking.
"Well, some things are just tradition," Julian replied, then brazenly stepped forward, sliding one arm around the shorter man's waist. Frank stared at him with wide eyes, though his held tilted up unconsciously, expectantly. "And I've been waiting to do this all week," he said, and then lowered his head to make a new memory of those lips. Frank responded eagerly, his hands sliding up around Julian's neck to pull the man in deeper. Julian forced himself to pull back when he felt the first faint stirring of hunger in his veins. Frank seemed to sense his problem, and released him.
"Dinner first?" Frank offered, closing the door behind his guest. Julian paused on the threshold to take in the modest home anew. It was much cleaner than the last time he'd visited. The dark wood surfaces were shining and smelled of polish. The carpet was vacuumed and the windows gleamed, the faint scent of vinegar lingering in the air. The piles of paperwork, books, and old take out bags were nowhere to be seen. And the kitchen…the kitchen shined. For a man who proclaimed practically zero skill as a housekeeper, it was quite impressive.
"The place looks good, Frank. You know you didn't have to go to so much trouble."
"Yeah, well. I figured you'd seen the place at its worst…in the midst of a case with my work strewn everywhere. Figured you should see it at its best, too. And…well, I didn't want to embarrass you with my poor housekeeping skills," Frank said, pausing to toss the towel over a dish drainer by the sink.
"Frank, you are who you are. I like you, housekeeping skills and all. It does not matter what anyone else thinks," Julian said, then drew his left hand out of the folds of his coat, where'd he'd been hiding his own contribution to the meal. "I thought you might enjoy this," he said, holding forth the tall, green wine bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. It was one of the finest in his collection.
"Julian, that looks expensive! I'm no wine connoisseur, you shouldn't waste that on me," Frank protested, eyes wide as he took the bottle and eyed the date on the label. Julian merely replied by taking the bottle back and popping the cork bare-handed and pouring the wine into two glasses which sat waiting on the counter.
"I was saving it for a special occasion. And to me, this qualifies. Besides, what is the point of collecting fine wines if one can never enjoy them? It brings me pleasure to share them with those I care about," Julian said, passing a glass of the rich, red wine to the startled detective. Smirking, Julian gave in to the urge and tucked an errant curl behind the detective's ear. "And besides…I have plenty of time to teach you how to appreciate a good wine."
"A beer-drinking joe like me? I hope you have the patience of a saint," Frank retorted.
"Now, what is that fantastic smell lingering in the air? I admit to a certain curiosity to what you, a self-proclaimed microwave man, have been slaving away at."
"Hey, I never said I couldn't cook. Just don't see the point in doing it just for myself," Frank said, feigning injury. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll do the honors?" he said, casually shooing Julian toward the tiny dining nook. Julian complied with a smile, noting the detective's valiant effort at table-setting. There was no table cloth, but the dishes were clean and a few votive candles sat flickering as a centerpiece. The silverware hadn't been laid in the appropriate order, but the silver gleamed as if it had been painstakingly polished. Sitting in the far chair so he could watch the other man, Julian draped his coat over the back of the chair and sipped at his wine.
The detective soon pulled a surprising number of dishes from the oven, where it appeared they had sat warming. First a basket of French bread was placed in the center of the table, then two small soup bowls into which Frank ladled a thick, spicy soup. What was unmistakably chicken parmesan sat waiting on the counter, and…was that tiramisu? Blinking in surprise, Julian couldn't help but stare with new eyes at his companion as the man slipped into the seat across from him. Frank was undoubtedly a man of hidden talents.
"You were not joking when you said you could cook," he prodded. The detective shrugged.
"My mother worked as a chef for a while when I was a kid. She made sure I could cook and sew enough to get by."
"I would say this is more than enough to get by. Only you, Frank, could blast a Kindred out of a window one moment, and fix Tiramisu the next, with equal nonchalance," Julian said, pleased by the embarrassed flush that rose in the other man's cheeks.
Taking pity on him, Julian turned his attention to the meal that had no doubt taken hours to prepare. He was surprised that every dish was delicious and expertly seasoned, not at all the expected work of a bachelor. Though he knew Frank lacked the trained palate of a wine connoisseur, Julian could tell that he enjoyed the wine. After the Tiramisu, they moved to the leather couch and finished the bottle together, talking about nothing important at all and enjoying every moment.