#flynnfrederickson

Flynn had to admit that his family had been a little weird since his grandfather's death. His dad, grieving in his own way, dove headfirst into his work, so Thanksgiving plans were nonexistent. Flynn didn't want to go back to San Fransokyo for the holiday because, while that was home, it wouldn't feel like a holiday without his grandfather. So when Iris extended the offer to come home with her for the holiday, he figured that was so much better than spending it in Walt. After a delicious home-cooked Southern meal, Flynn meandered down the hall toward the guest room, rubbing his stomach Joey Tribbiani-style, and seriously considering unbuttoning the top button of the dark jeans he'd decided to wear to dinner. He started to step into what he thought was the guest room, but quickly realized it was Iris's. "Oh! Sorry, thought this was the guest room," he chuckled, running a hand along the back of his neck. "Dinner was great!" he offered. It was so strange being so close in proximity to Iris when he was used to being close to her...emotionally.

Iris had invited Flynn to spend the holiday with her family, never actually dreaming that he'd say yes to the offer. How would he explain to his friends where he'd been? She was almost certain none of them knew that the two of them even talked - albeit only when no one was looking. Still, the surprise answer had been a pleasant one, and she had to admit that actually being around him made her even happier than just writing notes and texting in secret did. For her, it all felt so easy and natural, and she only hoped it was the same for him. She wanted to make him feel better, after all; if he was feeling awkward in her home, then that just wouldn't do. Iris reminded herself not to hover, going back to her room after they'd finished their Thanksgiving meal instead of clinging to Flynn, and now she found herself in her stretchiest pants and a sports bra, trying to do some pre-bed yoga to help herself feel less full from her meal. She was so focused on her tree pose that she nearly didn't realize that Flynn had walked into her room, all pink walls and fluffy white pillows and horseback riding ribbons hung all around the room. She toppled out of her pose and back onto two feet, waving for him to come further into the room. "Isn't granny's macaroni and cheese just the best? I've never been able to make anything like it when we're in Walt," she confessed, flouncing to a seat on the end of the bed and patting the spot next to her before hugging her arms shyly around her exposed stomach. "Maybe you'd have better luck convincing her to give you the recipe; she keeps telling me how glad she is that I brought 'such a charming young man home' this year," Iris informed him with a giggle. 

Flynn 's brows quirked up when Iris invited him to come further into her room. He didn't hesitate, though, as his feet propelled him forward to the spot that she patted on her bed. "Way better than boxed mac and cheese that I'm used to," Flynn chuckled. His family was certainly rich enough to afford cooks and such, but that didn't stop them from preferring the less classy version of pretty much everything. His cheeks warmed, then, when she mentioned what her grandmother thought of him. Flynn gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh, yeah? I'm charming?" He scrunched up his nose, finding that kind of hilarious. In Walt, he was the hype man -- always looking for a reaction or a laugh, since he didn't have the looks that the rest of his friends did. At least, in his opinion. "That's kind of funny, but I'm so flattered. If only she knew what life was like in Walt," he smirked. It was weird to think that Walt was so easily-accessible to them -- just a train ride away -- and yet, it was an entirely different universe. Because at times like these, where he could so easily spend time with Walt's 'horse girl', it certainly felt like a different universe.

Iris nodded her head instinctually. She'd always thought he was charming, in his own way; she'd never been the type of person to be drawn to what was considered traditionally cool, though. "Yep! She decided it all on her own, too, I didn't even have to tell her how great you are," Iris said brightly, swinging her legs back and forth. It was true, too; she'd mentioned a boy in Walt that she was friends with, one who wrote her letters and always made her smile when she talked to him, but she'd never mentioned a name. A name meant questions, and she didn't want to talk to her grandmother about how Flynn was so much cooler than she was and she was just grateful that he talked to her at all. She liked to keep that their little secret; no one could try to ruin it for her if no one knew. "She'd like you in Walt, too, though. She always said you should stick with the people that make you laugh," she told him, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. "Well - that and the ones that the animals like. But you'd know if they didn't, they'd have peed on all the guest room pillows by now," she said, wrinkling her nose. Iris spent all day mucking stalls, she sometimes forgot that that was less than savory conversation with other people. She brushed past it, though, pointing to a picture on her wall instead, of her in the middle with her arms around two girls on either side of her, all of them with ribbons from a competition. "See the girl on the right? She slept over once and the dogs ripped up all her underwear; they really weren't fans." Iris let her hands drop back to her sides; she'd been nervous at first, letting Flynn see her room full of all her memories, but she should have known it was okay. Somehow, things always were when it came to him, and sitting here like this felt more natural to her by the second.

Flynn chuckled at the thought of being grandma-Tweed approved because he was funny. Fart jokes may not have been the pinnacle of mature comedy, but he was glad to be vindicated in the idea that they still counted for something. "Well, I haven't seen the guest room in a few hours, you never know what they may be up to!" he joked, faking a move to get up and go check, but ultimately stayed at Iris's side. "I guess I should just be grateful that I'll be leaving with all my underwear in tact, but I do kind of like being Tweed-approved," he nodded with a smile, before glancing around at the girl's room, fully taking in everything that made her her. It was so homey and a great reflection of the things Iris was most passionate about. It was nice and refreshing. "Isn't it weird that we all had lives before Walt? Like, you're part of my pre-Walt life, and the memories feel kind of split between BW and AW, you know?" he chuckled, before realizing that he could've accidentally put his foot in his mouth. "I mean, you're obviously still in my AW life...you know what I mean."

Iris giggled at the way that Flynn stumbled over his own words. It was nice of him, to make sure to amend his statement so that she felt like she was included. And the truth was, some people might have minded not getting to see him more often, but Iris was surprisingly okay with it. "It's okay! You kind of fit anywhere you want, and I just... fit where I fit. Which wouldn't b e with your friends," Iris said with a shrug. She didn't mean it unkindly, and she hoped that the warm smile she offered him showed him as much. "They just like their things and I like mine, and they don't really overlap. Which is too bad. This is kind of fun, right? Actually getting to hang out for real?" She leaned her head on his shoulder for a second without thinking of it, savoring the memory of it for later when she went back to just having letters and texts and the occasional smile across a hallway or a corridor. She didn't try to ask if things could change, though; she didn't need them to to be happy. "Although you're totally welcome back here anytime. If you thought Thanksgiving was delicious, you should see the kind of stuff they make for the Kentucky Derby weekend."

Flynn cringed a little that Iris thought -- well, more than thought. She knew -- she wouldn't fit in with his friends. He knew she probably didn't mind, but that didn't mean he still didn't feel guilty over essentially ditching her for the popular crowd and keeping her some kind of secret. "Yeah, they like things like getting hammered at school dances and virginity-loss pacts," Flynn laughed, rolling his eyes. In the moment, he always got caught up in the fun of Team Ten, but in hindsight it was always really ridiculously stupid. He had no regrets ever, but still...pretty stupid. "But you're right. This is fun," he nodded, feeling his throat go a little dry at the sensation of being so honest with her, and especially once she rested her head on his shoulder. He inhaled, breathing in the scent of Iris's hair and placed an arm around her waist. "Oh, count me in. Otherwise, I think major holidays will have been spoiled for me now. Screw the Fredericksons' frozen turkey, I won't want anything but you from now on." he teased with a sigh. Then, a pause. "You know, not want you want you. Your family's food...you know what I mean." Pause. "...Would that be weird, though? If I did?" The question felt innocent enough -- he'd opened up this can of worms by letting Iris in on his and Bobbie's secret, after all. Now he just felt like he could be more open with her about things like that.

Iris could have easily wrinkled her nose up in disgust at the thought of frozen turkey, but she didn't. Her family's food was amazing, of course, but that wasn't what mattered about Thanksgiving to her anyway, it was being surrounded by the people she loved. And she imagined that Flynn's family was full of love, too, even if things were a bit strange right now for the family. After all, how could a family that made him be anything but wonderful? "Wait until tomorrow when they refry it and make it into turkey cranberry sliders," she added, trying not to flush at his next words. It was a question she hadn't expected, but a candid one, and it seemed only fair to be candid in response. "No, it wouldn't be weird at all," she told him simply, staying frozen in place, the only movement the soft rise and fall of her chest as she continued to take even-keeled breaths. "With you, everything feels as natural as breathing. You're just different than other people."

Flynn laughed, giving Iris's knee a pat at the idea of cranberry sliders. Things felt so quaint and comfortable here, compared to his big mansion or even the more socially-motivated world of Walt. He felt like he could sit here and really think. And right now, all he could think of was Iris and her breathing next to him. She said he was different...Which was funny, considering he spent so much time trying to fit in. Coming from Iris, though, he knew it was a compliment. "Yeah? You're different too," he nodded, daring to move his face closer to hers. Flynn finally let his body take the leap that his mind had wanted to do for what felt like all night, and used the hand that wasn't resting on her knee to tip her chin toward him, moving his lips in to kiss her, fingers soon sliding down to her neck. The kiss was as chaste as he could manage in that moment, so he stayed close when he pulled away. "Sorry, was that okay?"

Iris felt oddly serene as Flynn leaned in to kiss her. There was no fluttering of nerves, no gasp of surprise, just a wash of calm, as if this was something that she'd always known was going to happen. She hadn't, not really, but in the moment nothing possibly could have felt more right, and it wasn't until his lips had already left hers that her body finally started to catch up with him. Slightly breathless, Iris nodded her head yes. Yes, definitely okay, she wanted to tell him, more than okay, but the words didn't come out. Instead, Iris tilted her forehead so that it was resting against his, raking her bottom lip through her teeth for a second before deciding definitively what she wanted to do as she pressed her lips against his again. She was less hesitant than he had been, less nervous - Iris wasn't the type to overthink and worry, she just followed her heart, and right now her heart told her that she wanted to make the very most of this moment, no matter what happened next.