Chapter Text
Thanksgiving came and went, and Frond still didn't come out to his mother.
Ambrose couldn't exactly blame him. There was no way for it to come up organically in the conversation. Also, Frond was visibly nervous. He’d wound up crying in bed about how he couldn’t tell her, questioning over and over again what was wrong with him. Ambrose kept quiet, soothing him by running comforting circles along his back. He pulled him down under the covers, peppering him with kisses and holding him until he finally relaxed and dozed off in his arms.
Ambrose was patient, kind, understanding, but he was also frustrated. Not just sexually.
It was the 21st century, for crying out loud! No one would really care if they knew Frond was gay! I mean, sure, there would still be the odd one out who had prejudices, but other than that ...
It wasn't like Ambrose was expecting him to come out to all of Seymour's Bay. Just his mother. And besides, it was Frond himself who brought it up. It's not like he was pushing him into a corner or anything.
If Frond was having such a hard time with this, imagine how he'd be once word got out around the school ...
Ambrose sighed, pressing a kiss to his ridiculous guidance counselor's forehead before joining him in sleep.
Ambrose awoke the next morning with Frond still sound asleep in his arms. Gently, carefully, he removed himself from him, not wanting to wake him up.
"Where are you going?"
f*ck.
"Shower," Ambrose replied flatly, wanting to use the least words as possible so early in the morning, but then he broke his rule, "Wanna join me?" He teased.
Frond flushed, pulling the blankets up to his chin, and Ambrose took that as a no.
He kept telling himself not to take it personally. Frond was self-conscious about his body. Try as he might, he could never seem to convince him otherwise. So he'd stopped trying, hoping Frond would come out of his sweater-vested shell on his own.
So far, he has not.
But still, Ambrose loved him. Very much.
"Never mind. I forgot you don't shower ..." Ambrose said, mouth curling into a sly grin, "You only take bubble baths. With your cats."
Frond flushed, shouting after Ambrose after he shut the door behind him, "That was one time! Dr Bojangles had a skin condition! Why do I tell you these things??"
Despite all the threats, Ambrose opted for a cold shower. He needed it. Waking up next to that beautiful man was great, but it wasn’t easy. The things Ambrose wished they could do … he’d refused to spoon these past few mornings because he didn’t want to embarrass himself or get Frond flustered (even though that was always a pretty sight). Ambrose was always a sexual person, after all, and being celibate was unlike him. He still had needs, and he took care of that himself for fear of scaring Frond off by pressuring him too much.
He’d often daydreamed of when it would finally happen though … silently wishing that Frond would surprise him and join him in the shower, allowing Ambrose to lather him up, his fingers getting to explore every inch of his voluptuous body …
It depressed him to think that it might never happen. Frond had his hang-ups, and Ambrose was determined to love him no matter what, even if it meant never having sex … but he also feared that he wouldn’t be able to adjust to that kind of lifestyle. He’d gone almost a year without sex and he was still alive, to say the least, but it was … frustrating.
Ambrose opened the door to find Frond's mother staring at him from the end of the hallway, very Shining-esque except she didn't have a twin.
He jumped slightly, keeping an iron grip on the towel around his waist, grateful that he had habitually kept another towel around his shoulders so that he wasn't entirely half-naked. He was also very grateful that the shower he’d just had was cold so there wouldn’t be any other surprises to share with his potential mother-in-law.
"Cloris! I-um, good morning?" He felt like a teenager caught in the act, "I-I was just-"
"It's okay, sweetie," Cloris brushed off, "I'm guessing you spent the night."
Ambrose blushed even more, but he stayed quiet, not wanting to out his boyfriend. She continued.
"Phillip told me you had a drinking problem."
Ambrose could've laughed out loud at that, but instead, he smiled awkwardly, "Oh, he did, did he?" He was totally going to smother that little man with a pillow later.
"I don't understand how you two are friends sometimes. You know, Phillip abstains."
"Does he ever ..." Ambrose muttered in agreement, glancing over at Frond's bedroom door. 'In more ways than one' he wanted to add.
"Come on, hurry up and get dressed." Cloris insisted, "I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. If we wait for Phillip, we'd be having brunch."
Ambrose smirked, knowing how much it would get Frond frazzled if he woke up to find him missing and discover him downstairs chatting with his mother.
Ambrose was nothing if not one with a penchant for drama.
He went back into the bathroom and changed back into his pajamas instead, not wanting to risk Frond catching him.
Sure enough, it was about an hour later when Frond must've woken up and realized. He came downstairs, near-stumbling, wearing a shirt that was much too tight for him (did he even notice?)
Frond met Ambrose's eyes and he scowled. Ambrose hid behind his cup of coffee as he drank the last of it, fighting back a smirk.
"Good morning, Phillip," Cloris greeted her son flatly, brow raised at him in judgement, "You're finally awake."
"Heyy. It's Saturday!" Frond protested with a pout, looking nervously at Ambrose, acting as if he just noticed him,
"Casper! Hi, uh, what are you doing here so early?"
"He slept over." Cloris clarified, squinting at him, "How much did you have to drink last night?"
Frond turned white as a sheet as he managed to stammer out a response "I - nothing- no- drink? I didn't drink!"
"Well, I'm convinced," Ambrose drawled, sipping his tea as he patted the booth seat beside him, wiggling his eyebrows at him.
Frond shook his head very slightly, agitated, as he frowned at the man.
"Where did you get this shirt?" Cloris asked, plucking at the t-shirt, "I've never seen this one before."
Ambrose snorted into his coffee and began to choke with laughter, and Frond looked down in horror as he realized he was wearing one of Ambrose's old shirts he must've left lying around. It wasn't anything offensive, just a graphic tee of David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust, but still.
It did say 'I'll be a rock n roll bitch for you' but Cloris must've missed it bc it was in small print.
Frond couldn't possibly look any gayer right now. Ambrose beamed, basking in how golden this moment was.
"It's an - old shirt obviously! Must've had it in the back of the closet-"
"Yeah, in the closet," Ambrose echoed, smiling to himself as he idly scrolled through his phone, shooting Frond a teasing look.
"Shut. Up." Frond mouthed behind his mother's back.
Frond smiled nervously when his Cloris turned back to look at him, and Frond saw Ambrose sneak his phone at him and snap a quick picture.
"Yes, clearly it doesn't fit me anymore so I'll have to throw it out," Frond said through slightly gritted teeth, eying Ambrose.
"Oh, I'm sure it'll fit, you just gotta stretch it out a little," Ambrose teased, laughing out loud at his own innuendo.
Frond's face turned beet red, and Cloris, oblivious, wrapped an arm around him and led him over to the table.
"I made you some breakfast. You two enjoy. Margie's coming to take me bowling."
"Bowling? But .. you don't bowl!"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Phillip."
"Yeah, Phillip, quit being a little know-it-all!" Ambrose quipped.
Once Mother left, Frond snatched a strip of bacon out of Ambrose's hand just as he was about to eat it and threw it down dramatically on his plate.
"What is wrong with you?? Why did you come downstairs?? I thought we had a mutual understanding-"
"Relax! She doesn't know about us! She thinks I slept in the guest room, okay? You're safe."
"Thank you," Frond breathed a sigh of relief.
"I mean I think she does, anyway."
Frond cut him a look and groaned, dramatically plopping down onto the table into his folded arms.
Ambrose smirked and slyly slipped a sock-covered foot up his leg. He watched with glee as Frond's face flushed at the contact.
"I used up all the hot water, by the way," Ambrose lied, purring seductively.
"Perfect." Frond replied simply, rolling his eyes, seizing the moment, grabbing Ambrose's foot from under the table and pinching his toe. Ambrose cried out and laughed at the same time.
"Ow!"
"That wasn't funny! What is this, the Casper Hour?? I'm glad you're having fun at my expense!"
"Yes it is, and yes I am, you're welcome."
Frond sighed, poking at the eggs on his plate with his fork, shaking his head, "You're lucky I love you."
Ambrose nearly choked on his toast, wiping crumbs off of the front of his shirt. Okay, so maybe he wasn't used to hearing or using those three words just yet, "Will you cut that out, already?"
"Well, it's how I feel. I love you, Casper Ambrose."
"Ugh, sick, I'm gonna throw up ..."
"- And I don't expect to hear it back every time."
"Mm. Good. Because you're not going to."
"You don't have to use words-"
"Oh, boy, I've got some choice words for you ..."
"-because I know that you love me too."
"Shut up. Shut your face. Right now."
Frond smiled in amusem*nt, and Ambrose sneered.
"You're acting way too co*cky for someone who's about to take a really cold shower in the middle of December."
"It's okay. You can just warm me up afterwards," Frond said with a smile.
"Or, your fine ass could shower with me so you can finally experience hot water for a change and maybe, I don't know, save the environment?"
Frond blushed profusely, staring down at his breakfast.
Ambrose snorted, "Ugh, you are so traditional. What, you can say you love me but you can't see me naked? Should I put a ring on it, Beyonce?"
"Stop it, you know I'm insecure about that!"
"I know," Ambrose said, backing down sympathetically, but it lasted for a second, "but I'm not." He added sassily with a coy grin.
Frond rolled his eyes with a sigh, "It's not that I don't want to ..."
"You don't have to explain, hon," Ambrose assured.
"But I should! I should be able to be intimate with my boyfriend."
Ambrose stood and went around the table, kissing Frond on the forehead, "You're plenty intimate, sweetheart. Don't feel like you need to pick up the pace because I'm an insatiably horny bastard. Because once that door opens, you're gonna have a hard time closing it."
Frond blushed profusely, pathetically trying to hide his face behind his toast.
Ambrose leaned in the doorway of the breakfast nook, watching Frond as he plopped his toast back down on his plate, sighing as he stared down at the table, his head in his hands.
His reddish hair glowed in the morning sun, and his skin was currently a color to match. Ambrose's old shirt, that was still on his body, stretched out beyond all reason and yet he didn't care. He loved how his midriff showed, his belly button peeking out. His heart ached knowing that he couldn't just kiss him all over, his restraint regarding Frond's insecurities far too great. He didn't wanna destroy his trust. He just wished he'd let him show him how much he loved him, how much he deserved to be loved, every inch ...
"I love you, nerd," Ambrose said finally, simply, "All of you."
Frond sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, tears pricking at his eyes, "Don't throw my words back at me ..." he cried softly.
"Too late, I just did," Ambrose sassed, hanging playfully off the doorframe for a moment before giving in and returning to Frond's side. He knew he had to get him out of this funk.
He leaned across the table on his palms and got close, breathing in the scent of his hair like a total creeper, pretending to be disgusted (which wasn't all that hard for him to do as he usually acted disgusted)
Frond blatantly ignored him, gazing far off, lost in thought, and this only encouraged Ambrose further. He dragged his nose along his temple, sniffing loudly in exaggeration. Frond finally caved, trying to keep from laughing.
"What are you doing?"
"Smell check," Ambrose clarified with a snort, "You reek. Go wash up."
"Can't. There's no hot water remember?"
"Mm, I lied. I took a cold shower," he dragged his nose down behind Frond's ear and settled into the crook of his neck, arms sliding around him in an awkward half-standing embrace as he murmured, "Couldn't keep my mind off of you ..."
Frond turned a deeper shade of red, and Ambrose knew he was gonna brush him off again. But what happened next surprised him.
"Is that so?" Frond purred, and Ambrose pulled back to find Frond looking at him through hooded eyes. Ambrose would be lying if he said he wasn't completely flabbergasted, but he recoiled quickly.
"You want some help?" Ambrose asked, returning the seductive gaze, wiggling his eyebrows.
Frond licked his lips nervously, watching him, "Y-yes ..."
"Great! I'll run the bath, and you grab the cats."
Frond looked as if he'd just had the rug pulled out from under him, and he slapped Ambrose on the arm as the librarian cackled at him.
"CASPER!"
"I'm sorry! I couldn't resist!"
Casper laughed as he wrapped his arms around him tightly, burying his face in his neck.
"Are you gonna eat any of this?" Frond asked, shifting slightly, "Mother put in all this work ..."
Ambrose's smile faded against him as he thought of Cloris. He wished she knew just how much her son made him happy, and vice versa. He hated keeping secrets. At work was one thing, but at home ...
"Are you gonna tell her?"
Frond tensed slightly under Ambrose's touch, and he reached up to run his hand through his curls.
"I will," he said softly, "I'm just ... I'm working up to it."
"Yeah ..." Like everything else ...
Ambrose sat back down across from his beloved boyfriend, propping his feet up beside Frond on the bench, and Frond kept one hand around his ankles, gently caressing his heel with his thumb as they ate their breakfast together.
