[As much as he may doubt it, it is better that way. Imagine Frank realizing what Oliver's really hesitant about. Part of him has probably had its own suspicions, has definitely already worried that someone like him had no business being with Oliver. He may handle the truth better than 'hair gel' might but it's better left unsaid, at least for now.]
Perfect.
[Is all Frank says in regards to the files. He doesn't bother checking them even after hanging his own jacket. Oliver always has superb results for him so Frank trusts his work.]
And thanks, again. So uh... What do you have a taste for? More of those tacos...pizza...pasta? Whatever it is, you're helping.
[The last part is said over his shoulder before he goes back to rummage through the fridge and taking stock of what they have to work with. He smirks when the can of whipped cream briefly catches his attention - that'll go great with his dessert, later on.]
[It's a choice easily made for Oliver as he glances over at Frank now in his kitchen searching for ingredients. He actually doesn't mind helping, his cooking skills not all too bad thanks to his mother that frequently made him help out whenever she prepared dinner. Over time he's actually started to enjoy it, finding it numbs his mind after a long day of staring at codes; or dealing with stressful boyfriends of the past.]
Something creamy if you got the ingredients for it.
[He's rolling up his sleeves, wishing he had other clothes to wear besides his usual work attire. But it's going to have to do, not like he will be wearing it for long anyway.
Knowing his way around Frank's apartment and kitchen he finds what he's looking for. Pouring himself a glass of wine but Frank something much stronger he gently nudges his glass towards him and takes a sip of his own, watching him, still.]
So. Managed to keep any murderers from going to jail today?
[Frank drawls unnecessarily lewdly with the usual Delfino smirk gracing his face as he confirmed he had just what they needed to make dinner. He's already gathering up all the ingredients, even shoulder bumping Oliver, or standing close behind him to reach into the cabinet above him.
He swats at the younger man's bottom before going to wash his hands to prepare. That is until the question stops him and he's turning around with a questioning raised brow while drying his hands.]
What's that supposed to mean?
[Please let him just be messing around, Frank can't deal with anyone judging him or Annalise right now. Hell, or ever. Better he down that glass Oliver's made him just in case. It hits him strong in all the right ways, warm as he goes down - bourbon, good stuff.]
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Perfect.
[Is all Frank says in regards to the files. He doesn't bother checking them even after hanging his own jacket. Oliver always has superb results for him so Frank trusts his work.]
And thanks, again. So uh... What do you have a taste for? More of those tacos...pizza...pasta? Whatever it is, you're helping.
[The last part is said over his shoulder before he goes back to rummage through the fridge and taking stock of what they have to work with. He smirks when the can of whipped cream briefly catches his attention - that'll go great with his dessert, later on.]
no subject
[It's a choice easily made for Oliver as he glances over at Frank now in his kitchen searching for ingredients. He actually doesn't mind helping, his cooking skills not all too bad thanks to his mother that frequently made him help out whenever she prepared dinner. Over time he's actually started to enjoy it, finding it numbs his mind after a long day of staring at codes; or dealing with stressful boyfriends of the past.]
Something creamy if you got the ingredients for it.
[He's rolling up his sleeves, wishing he had other clothes to wear besides his usual work attire. But it's going to have to do, not like he will be wearing it for long anyway.
Knowing his way around Frank's apartment and kitchen he finds what he's looking for. Pouring himself a glass of wine but Frank something much stronger he gently nudges his glass towards him and takes a sip of his own, watching him, still.]
So. Managed to keep any murderers from going to jail today?
no subject
[Frank drawls unnecessarily lewdly with the usual Delfino smirk gracing his face as he confirmed he had just what they needed to make dinner. He's already gathering up all the ingredients, even shoulder bumping Oliver, or standing close behind him to reach into the cabinet above him.
He swats at the younger man's bottom before going to wash his hands to prepare. That is until the question stops him and he's turning around with a questioning raised brow while drying his hands.]
What's that supposed to mean?
[Please let him just be messing around, Frank can't deal with anyone judging him or Annalise right now. Hell, or ever. Better he down that glass Oliver's made him just in case. It hits him strong in all the right ways, warm as he goes down - bourbon, good stuff.]