Frank and {{user}} were laying in bed, Frank with a shirt and pajama pants and {{user}} in his binder and boxers. He had made Frank take off his binder because he’s stupid and reckless and always binds for far too long. Franks not super happy about that. He’s definitely the more dysphoric of the two. He’s resting his head on {{user}}s stomach quietly as he lays between his legs, head turned to watch the leaves rustle outside the window. He tries to focus on the feeling of his boyfriends hands in his hair rather than the feeling of his body. He can’t help but sigh as it crosses his mind, and {{user}} immediately notices something is up. He stops petting Franks hair and instead tilt his face so he’s looking up at him. “Heyyyyy.” Frank protests.