Work Text:
If I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
- George Eliot
LA is still hot and faintly smoky from the brush fires even as October draws to a close. When Mikey leaves in the evening, walking past the old fashioned calendar showing pumpkins under the full moon, he has to do a double take every time he steps out into LA's warmth because he always expects Jersey's smudgy oranges and reds blazing under their patina of industrial smog. It seems wrong to see the lush green of well watered grass this late in the year. He leans against the sun-warmed wall and waits for his cab. He can feel the low level hum of the bioware implant in his forearm. It's still lightly hooked into the system that is headquartered in the building. It would be easy enough to firm the connection just a bit but there's no point in doing it today. He closes his eyes just for a moment and sees the sleek lines of coding dancing in his mind. The program doesn't complete until tomorrow and until it's finished he can't set any more pieces into motion anyway. He has to stop himself from tugging down his cuff to make sure his implant is hidden as the cab glides to a stop. They aren't technically illegal but old habits are hard to break especially when they've been instilled by someone as exacting as Toro. As a nervous tick it marks him telling anyone who knows what to look for how long he's been a coderez and that he's more than a dilettante using it to skim the lines.
Frank is rattling around in the tiny kitchen of the apartment they're sharing when he gets in. The air smells like tomatoes and garlic a sure sign that Frank is cooking. Mikey isn't all that surprised to see the pile of dirty kitchen implements that always signal Frank is getting to the end of his cooking. It's weird to have a routine, still makes Frank twitchy that he does, but since he does Frank has taken it upon himself to make sure Mikey can eat when he gets back. He leans against the sink watching Frank work.
"Well?" Frank asks as he pokes at whatever he has in the pot.
"Another day, two tops, then it's done."
"Cool, you ready to eat?"
Mikey nods and hands Frank a plate. If it's just them they never bother with serving bowls an old habit left over from the first time they lived together. He brings both plates to the table leaving Frank to get drinks. He knows it's going to be the sour-sharp apple juice that Frank made last week in a fit of nostalgia. Frank sits cornerwise from him so he can see the door and the window. It's an old habit and Mikey privately doubts that Frank will ever break it. He hooks his ankle over Frank's foot. Frank smiles at him with the soft little smile that Mikey thinks is reserved just for him.
"When you say two tops does that mean finished or just you can do it remote?"
"Remote."
Mikey doesn't even have to think about it and Frank makes a tsking noise between his teeth. They've been in LA for almost three months now and Mikey knows Frank is getting restless. Three months in the same place is practically a lifetime for them when the past five years have been almost non-stop travel hopping the globe from job to job. The LA job is Mikey's job and more a favour for an old friend/ex-lover than anything he would have taken normally. It's boring, more time consuming than anything else, but Pete asked and Mikey couldn't tell him no. At least that's the reason he gives Frank and the reason Frank is willing to accept. They haven't talked about how Frank needed a break, needed to stop and rest to get his body back together after the Minsk job had literally blown up underneath him. It still makes Mikey's stomach tight to think about those first awful days of waiting to see if Frank would wake up. He never wants to set foot in Minsk again. Frank has a tiny crescent scar through his eyebrow as a reminder. It had taken Mikey months to stop feeling sick every time he caught sight of the scar.
"You want to get out of here?" he asks Frank just as Frank pops a neatly wound ribbon of spaghetti in his mouth.
Frank nods and swallows, "I got an offer."
"An offer?"
He's proud of how level his voice is but Frank looks at him sharply anyway. He knows this isn't news that Mikey is going to be enthused about.
"It's safe, a distance thing I promise."
"The last time you said that you ended up parachuting out of a plane over Paraguay."
Frank looks a little guilty at that and Mikey knows that he's still sorry for how Mikey thought he'd died on the job taken out by the target he was supposed to be taking out.
"It's a car, easiest set up in the world, skyscraper under construction right on the way. I'll be in and out in less time than Gee can make a Pissarro."
"When?" he asks giving in already because Frank is looking at him so hopefully.
"Three weeks."
Mikey sighs and rubs his eyes, "Alright. I wish you'd give it longer but fine."
Frank's hand settles against the back of his neck, warm and reassuringly firm, "I'm okay Mikeyway, I promise."
* * *
Mikey licks at the trailing wing of one of Frank's swallows, tongue traveling along the tattoo until it reaches the still pink scar slicing around Frank's side. Mikey can't bring himself to follow the scar. The memories are still too new for that so instead he slides down so he can suck a bruise into the loose skin of Frank's hip. Above him Frank gasps, fingers clutching at the sheets because Mikey can't stand to have his head grabbed not even by Frank. Mikey moves onto the oak leaves, their edges curling with the red of fall, that sit just above the rise of Frank's public bone. Frank's breath always hitches into a little chocked gasp when Mikey nips at the leaves just right.
"Please, Mikey," Frank whimpers and Mikey relents.
Frank's cock is heavy against his tongue as he sucks the head into his mouth, tongue flicking against the underside just like Frank likes. Frank's back arches as he tries to thrust up even as Mikey's hands pin his hips to the bed. He throws an arm across Frank's hips so his other hand can slip lower. His fingers circle Frank's hole, not pressing in, just a teasing pressure on the outside that makes Frank's hips stutter backward even as he wants to keep thrusting into Mikey's mouth. Frank whines, twisting against the restraint of Mikey's arm as Mikey slowly slides his mouth up, lets Frank's cock slide across his lips until the head rests just inside his mouth. He hold the position, finger still rubbing over Frank's hole, listening to Frank whimper and swear at him for teasing. He deliberately takes Frank's cock as deep as he can just as he slides a slick finger inside to gently press into Frank's prostate. Above him Frank's gasp turns into a guttural moan and his fists thump against the mattress. Mikey sucks hard as he feels Frank's body shudder as he comes and Mikey swallows.
The lazy grin that Frank gives him always makes him feel warmer and Mikey leans up to kiss it. Frank hums into his mouth but pulls away shortly.
"My turn," he says as he squirms enough to move down Mikey's body.
Mikey watches Frank's dark hair flop over his face as he bends to take Mikey's cock into his mouth.
* * *
It's almost three according to his bioware when Mikey wakes up. Frank has thrown the sheets off both of them and is shifting restlessly in his sleep. He knows better than to touch Frank. Before Minsk he could have but not now, another thing the job has taken from them, instead he snaps his fingers sharply. Frank makes a huffing noise and opens his eyes.
"The usual?" Mikey says and Frank nods.
They lay side by side looking up at the ceiling and listening to their synched breathing.
"It's too fucking hot for fall." Frank says as he flips onto his side.
"Yeah, too green too."
Frank nods and grabs the sheet so he can fan it over them to make a breeze. If they were back East they wouldn't have to do this and it would be real fall not the weird late summer that seems to pass for fall in the city that's mostly concrete.
"Fuck I miss the colors," Frank pokes Mikey in the side accusingly, "that's your brother's bad influence right there."
Mikey shrugs and takes over fanning the sheet. He can see the glint of his implant as his arm moves. There isn't anything to say to that because it's true. Gee has always been the one who could explain stuff like that, could make people get it, whereas Mikey has only ever been able to say he likes it. Gee is the one with the words to explain why. Frank can do it almost as effortlessly when he sets his mind to it and Mikey is always secretly stunned that Frank will put up with listening to Mikey's own stumbling efforts to explain his why. Frank twists around again and the light hits the pale scar tissue that cuts through the pumpkin on his back. He can taste the faint tang of recycled air on his tongue.
"I want a real fall." Frank says and he sounds almost wistful. Mikey thinks about last year when they'd still been holed up in Europe counting time between visits to clinics. There hadn't been a real fall there either. He thinks the previous year was the job in Jakarta or maybe it was the year before that. It bothers him that he has to struggle to remember the last time they had a proper fall that reminded Frank of the falls he had growing up. Mikey lets the sheet drop so he can role over to catch Frank's mouth in a quick kiss.
"We could go north, there are still some preserves up there," he hesitates for a second before continuing, "it wouldn't be Jersey but it'd be closer."
Frank chuckles, "Nothing is Jersey."
"I know but there'd be the right colors."
Frank nods, "At this point I'd be happy with just colors, it doesn't even have to smell right."
Mikey kisses him because he doesn't know what to do say to that. He knows about the tracker implants Frank has but the oblique references always catch him by surprise. The clock slides into half past the hour. Frank sighs and slips out of bed ignoring Mikey's unhappy protest.
"I'll just keep you up. Get some sleep."
Mikey knows it's useless to protest just like he knows that Frank will nap tomorrow and fuck up his sleeping patterns even worse. He closes his eyes and listens to the quiet sounds of Frank putting on a movie. Tomorrow he'll make the arrangements for their trip north. It would so much easier if they could get into Jersey but that isn't going to be possible for at least another month. He hopes Pete is telling the truth about northern Cali and that it really does smell like fall. He wants a pumpkin for Frank this year too and he hope like fuck there is a way to get a good one this late in the season. His bioware runs quietly as it stores the notes he's making.
* * *
When Frank wakes the movie is shut off and the apartment is quiet. It's late enough that Mikey will already be gone and he feels guilty for not seeing his off. A deep red oak leaf is sitting on the table next to the coffee warmer. He expects it to be plastic but when he picks it up it has got the soft waxy feel of a real leaf. The note that was underneath it, scribbled in Mikey's almost illegible handwriting, says "to tide you over". The leaf smells like fall.