3. Frankie #3
The ceremony was boring, because all graduation ceremonies were, but the keynote speaker was inspiring and Frankie allowed his mind to wander to what the heck he was going to do with his life.
While an MBA was almost a guarantee that Diego would get a good job, a BS in Business was nothing to scoff at either.
Frankie just needed to figure out what he wanted aside from the man strolling purposefully across the stage in one of the gorgeous button downs Frankie had bought him in France.
Well, he was wearing a graduation robe over top of it, but Frankie knew it was there.
After the ceremony, they met to take pictures with some of their friends.
Chris and Dustin lined up along with a few of Diego’s other fraternity brothers and a slew of members from the Rainbow Club, including Jamie and Lila.
They had apparently broken up the previous summer, a fact Frankie had missed since Diego was the only one he’d really kept up with while in France, but they were incredibly cordial and each agreed to bring their new partners to dinner later that evening.
While Frankie had many friends in college, he’d never had a singular friend group, or a solid community. Sitting at dinner, Frankie could almost imagine that all these people were his community. With Diego.
Frankie reached out to a few more mutual friends who had graduated the year before with him and they met up for lunch at a local diner the next day. The food was delicious, but the coffee was awful.
“God, we need some better coffee shops around here,” Delia griped as they all struggled to choke down the bland and somehow still burnt coffee.
“Seriously. I feel like it’s all chains, or tiny shops with not enough room for even one table,” Gregory agreed.
Diego got a thoughtful look on his face, but didn’t comment and the topic shifted to summer plans. After lunch, as they strolled leisurely to their mutual bus stop, Frankie tried to work up the nerve to ask Diego what his future plans were, but Diego beat him to the punch.
“I want to open a queer cafe,” Diego said matter-of-factly. Frankie jerked to a stop, and Diego crashed into him.
Electricity shot up and down Frankie’s back where their bodies touched.
Due to their height difference, Diego’s crotch was just below Frankie’s ass.
For just a heartbeat he allowed himself to imagine bending his knees like he did when dancing, and pressing back into Diego’s warmth.
The biggest thing his endless hours of video chatting with Diego had been lacking was the delicious contact they always shared when studying together at Diego’s place.
His favorite was when Diego would throw his legs up over Frankie’s lap like he belonged there.
Diego steadied himself by grabbing Frankie’s waist, and that rough grip immediately became his new favorite Diego touch.
Frankie shook his head at how ridiculous he was being.
He could be touched anywhere , by anyone he wanted with a simple swipe on Grindr, or a text to an old fling.
He didn’t need to be fantasizing about what else Diego’s strong hands could do, what his muscular chest would look like over a year and a half after his surgery or what the rest of him would look like.
“Am I to take your sudden screeching halt and following silence as disapproval?” Diego asked warily.
Frankie spun around to face him and his breath caught in his chest. Diego was so attractive. Somehow, he seemed even more ruggedly handsome than he had when they’d last spoken on video chat, which could only have been three weeks prior.
His beard had finally filled out sometime during the winter, and while he was trimming it close to his face for the warmer weather, it still made Frankie want to run his fingers, and possibly his tongue, over it.
Fuck. He needed to get laid. Tonight. He’d have to make sure the guy or gal didn’t bring any peanuts, dust, or mold into the house.
On second thought, maybe he’d just have them strip at the door.
He could give Seth a heads up that there would be a naked person in their house.
Maybe he should get a clean robe or something to keep on hand in case he ever had hookups stay the night?
That way they could drink their coffee on the couch without rubbing their naked butt cheeks all over it.
Okay, bad mental image to have while staring into Diego’s admittedly annoyed looking face.
“Would you believe it was such a good idea that I’m speechless?” Frankie asked. Diego rolled his eyes.
“ Coma mierda ,” Diego grumbled.
Well, that didn’t sound like a good thing. He was pretty sure coma had something to do with eating… and did mierda mean shit?
“I’m sorry, did you just tell me to eat shit?” Frankie asked.
Diego blinked at him for a moment and then burst out laughing, a warm, velvety sound that Frankie didn’t get to hear often enough.
“No! Well… I guess it translates to that, but it means you’re bullshiting me, which you so clearly are, so just tell me what you’re thinking,” Diego teased, but his voice was fond and his eyes were dancing with joy.
Frankie rolled his eyes. “I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking, that’s why I didn’t say anything yet,” Frankie admitted honestly.
Diego raised an eyebrow, and Frankie was once again lost in his friend’s handsome face.
Diego waved his hand in Frankie’s face and Frankie jerked his head to the side, accidentally moving closer not farther away from Diego. They ended up just a few inches apart, so close Frankie could smell the shitty coffee on Diego’s breath.
“Ahh, mi cielo, tienes tu cabeza en las nubes,” Diego murmured softly, and when Frankie cocked his head inquisitively, Diego’s eyes widened, and his cheeks warmed.
“It is… another endearment. It translates to ‘my sky,’ so I said in essence my sky has his head in the clouds.”
“And you still don’t want me to call you a cabbage? I’m pretty sure you just called me an airhead.” To be precise, Diego had called Frankie his airhead, and he found he didn’t mind that nearly as much.
“Unless you’re implying I’m multifaceted with many complex layers, I think I’d rather not be a stinky, cruciferous vegetable.”
Frankie couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Who the hell says cruciferous?”
It was Diego’s turn to smirk, which up close, revealed his perfectly straight teeth.
Frankie had never thought about this before, but it definitely implied he’d had braces as a kid.
Either his parents had cared about him, or cared a lot about appearances.
Sadly, Frankie thought he could guess which one it was.
“It’s a means of classifying vegetables. There are cruciferous, leafy greens, marrow—”
“Like bone marrow?”
“No, like pumpkins, squash, and zucchini. Don’t interrupt. Then there are root, stem, allium—”
“Are you inviting me over for dinner?”
Diego’s eyes widened in surprise. Frankie could actually pick out the varying shades of brown in them. There were at least four, maybe five different colors.
“I... do you want to come over for dinner?”
“Yeah, why not?” Frankie asked, even though he could name nearly a dozen reasons why not. The first and most pressing being that he was developing a very inappropriate boner the longer he stood nearly pressed to Diego’s chest.
“I mean… now that we’re not studying for class, I wasn’t sure if…” Diego trailed off and looked off to the side.
Frankie took a step back, but not far enough that Diego might accidentally glance down and notice his little problem. Okay, it wasn’t little, but it was definitely a problem.
“You weren’t sure if I’d still want to hang out? Didn’t we literally just spend the past two days together?” Frankie asked.
“Well, I suppose I didn’t know if you would still want to hang around my apartment, or if you’d rather, I don’t know, be out doing things. You seem to like doing things.”
Frankie wouldn’t mind doing Diego – damnit. Food. They were talking about food.
“I’d love to hang out at your apartment, D. Especially since you’re cooking me carnivorous—”
“Cruciferous.”
“Carnivorous bone marrow.”
“Oh my god. You’re not allowed over ever again,” Diego groaned, stepping around Frankie and walking towards the bus stop right as their bus rounded the corner.
“You love me,” Frankie called and he could practically hear Diego’s eyes rolling… but he didn’t deny it.
Dinner consisted of ramen with soft boiled eggs, since Diego hadn’t gone grocery shopping during the week with the craziness of graduation.
“The next time you come over for dinner, I promise I’ll make you something with cru-ci-fer-ous vegetables.”
Frankie couldn’t help but think he would eat ramen for the rest of forever if it meant he could keep coming over for dinner. Annnnnnd now it was time for a subject change.
Frankie brought up Diego’s cafe idea, and they spent the next four hours, fueled by increasingly more and more alcoholic cups of coffee, brainstorming ideas.
That was the first of many nights Frankie crashed on Diego’s couch.
Over the next several months, Diego and Frankie went on scouting missions across the city to all of the independent coffee shops and tiny cafes they could find.
Diego had gone back to working full time at the bar and had also picked up occasional weekend shifts at the cafe he’d worked at during grad school.
This was one of the cafes too small for even a single table.
On the plus side, Diego had become an exceptional barista and Frankie often visited him at work to sample his expertly crafted drinks.