#frenchie x kimiko

I’m a bit obsessed with The Boys

Pairing: Frenchie x Kimiko

Word count:710

Summary: Kimiko’s newfound love of musicals are good, nostalgic memories for Frenchie, allowing an escape for both of them.

Warnings: Smallest pinch of angst, Frenchie’s past, 98% fluff.

A/N: This is something that’s been on my laptop since 2020, but I was finally convinced to post it by @writercole​. Hope you all enjoy. Happy reading!

The basement of Haitian Kings hide-out was quieter than usual. There would be times when the gang would be going about their operations, or discussion between Butcher and the rest of the group about the Supes, Vought and whatever new scheme there was to take them down. It wasn’t often that they had days like today.

The gang was out making their rounds of their product, Butcher and MM were also out working on something, and Hughie and Annie were no doubt meeting away from the eyes at Vought. Kimiko sat on the ripped-up couch, her right hand swirling the letters that she had been learning. She felt the cushion dip next to her, smiling as she saw Frenchie sit down.

“Parfaite,” he stated as he looked down at the letters, glancing up at her with a smile. He gestured to the book and lifted his hand up in the sign that she had taught him, putting his own lessons to use. “Break?”

She nodded, folding her legs under her as he handed her two DVDs.

“Your turn to choose, mon coeur,” he smiled.

Kimiko looked between the options. Singin’ in the Rain orCarousel. Since the day they had brought her into the group, it was clear she had a love of music. It never mattered what genre, as she would smile and nod along to whatever was played in the basement. From rap to Billy Joel (when the gang wasn’t around and Hughie didn’t fear putting on his own music), she enjoyed it all. It wasn’t until Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was on TV that Frenchie realized she had a real love for musicals. She stared at the TV, not blinking, completely engrossed by what she was watching.

And he enjoyed being the one to show her all the classics.

He lit up when she pointed to the Gene Kelly masterpiece, getting up and putting the DVD into the player before he took his spot again. “Excellent choice.”

As soon as the film started, she was captivated once more. She sat forward, her arms resting on her knees, completely still. There was no way anyone could’ve pulled her away from the screen at that moment. He smiled as he watched her, seeing her love all these musicals that meant so much to him, that his mother had introduced him to, it was special. When a small, care-free giggle escaped her during the Make Em’ Laugh sequence, it warmed his heart. It was like he was experiencing it for the first time again.

“You know this scene… my maman would be in hysterics, doubled over, tears from her eyes… good ones,” he said, a soft but somber smile on his face as he remembered the only person he had loved. “She loved these movies. We would watch them together whenever I was not being chased by my father. I watch these and I… I think about her.”

Frenchie turned to Kimiko, the sudden wave of nostalgia overwhelming him. For the first time since the opening credits rolled, she turned her attention to him. She shifted closer, leaning her head on his shoulder, letting him know that she wasn’t going anywhere.

They concentrated on the movie, neither one of them making an effort to move or for him to say anything. He felt her move closer, wrapping her arm around his as she continued to lay her head on him. He often found himself in that same position with his mother when he was younger, his head on her shoulder as he would be completely enraptured by the music and dancing, too.

Frenchie’s hand closed over Kimiko’s, his eyes shutting tightly in fear that she might flinch, might pull away like she had in the past. But she didn’t. He smiled as his thumb stroked over her knuckles, not tainted by blood and dirt for the first time in a long time.

They stayed in that same position even until the credits rolled, which ended just in time as everyone returned to the basement. It was as if time had stopped just for them to have that moment to themselves.

A moment to truly escape in the magic before they returned to the usual horrors of their reality.

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The Boys, Frenchie x Kimiko. Takes place in 2x07. Expands on Kimiko teaching Frenchie her sign language, which is a storyline I LOVE and cannot get enough of. Could be part 1 of a series? Maybe? We’ll see. Title from “Saturn” by Sleeping at Last. 

******

The first word she teaches him is gun.

The second is sorry.

******

He’s smiling at her, his hands still cradled around an imaginary gun – his mind marveling at the first concrete step in a new direction for them – when she stands up and crouches down in front of him.

He brings his hands gently down in front of him, resting them on his knees as he stares intently at her. There’s a gentleness in her eyes that he’s missed, his heart fluttering in a way he isn’t sure he’s allowed any more.

She puts one hand on her chest, then slowly reaches out with the other to put it over his heart. His breath catches as she settles her hand on his chest, his heart leaping up into his throat. He initiates almost all the contact between the two of them, and the simple act of her doing it instead makes him remember how much he thinks about it (how much he craves it).

She looks up at him with eyes filled with something that isn’t quite sorrow, isn’t quite shame, but as deeply felt as either of them. He stares at her, trying to parse through her expression, the weight of her hand on his heart, and the word settles on him slowly.

“Sorry?” He asks, cocking his head at her.

She nods, and presses her hand into his chest once more, her eyes dropping down.

He wraps his own hand around the one resting on his chest and squeezes, waiting for her to look back up at him.

“Kimiko,” he says softly, the mon coeur hidden between the syllables of her name. He wants to brush back the strand of hair that’s fallen across her face. He wants to trace the slope of her cheek, the curve of her jaw. He wants to feel the softness of her skin against his fingertips. He wants, he wants, he wants.

He settles for brushing his thumb against the ridges of her fingers instead.

“You do not need to apologize to me. I was the one who needed to apologize.”

She gives him a small smile and curls her hand into a fist, then sticks out her thumb and pinky and tilts it back and forth.

Before he can try to figure out what it means, she points to herself, then makes a downward clawing motion with one finger lengthwise down her wrist before pointing at him.

“You…hurt me?” He asks, trying to put the motions together as best he can.

She nods, then puts her hand back on her chest and presses the one on his own chest once again.

“You were hurting. And I…” He trails off and gives her a sardonic smile. “I hurt you, too. I didn’t know how to let you grieve.” He shakes his head, frustrated at the way his explanations sound like excuses. He starts again, but stops when she shakes her head at him.

She lifts her hand off his chest and starts to make a series of complicated gestures, then stops when she sees the confusion that he’s sure is clear on his face.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but stops when she puts a finger against his lips.

His entire body stills as he takes a sharp intake of breath. After weeks of holding himself away from her – and with the aching memory of his ill-timed, ill-advised kiss still heavy in his mind – the feel of her hand pressing against his lips somehow narrows his vision and expands every sensation all at once.

She moves her hand away from his face, and somehow that both makes it easier and harder to breathe. She makes the motion for sorry again, the pressure light against his chest, and looks at him searchingly, her dark brown eyes staring intently into his own.

He knows now what she’s saying, but also finds himself thinking that her apology isn’t for what happened between them – or, maybe, not just for what happened between them – but for all he’d done and kept hidden from her. For what he could never run away from. For all the anger and shame and guilt he’d carried these years, that he wore like an old, ill-fitting coat he didn’t know how to let go of.

After a long moment, he nods, then mirrors the movement, his own hand settling lightly over hers on his chest.

“Me too, mon coeur,” he murmurs, filling those words with all the sorrow for everyone he didn’t save, all his regret at making her a symbol for his own salvation – for filling in the gaps between them with his own need for redemption.  

Too late he realizes he’s called her mon coeur for the first time in weeks, the words slipping out before he can help himself. He’s tempted to apologize, but the bright smile that blooms across her face when she hears it dissolves the impulse completely and spreads warmth through his veins.

He smiles back at her and thinks that even though everything around them is shit in ten different kinds of ways right now, he feels at peace in a way he doesn’t think he’s ever really felt before.

******

By the time they leave the rooftop later that night – some nondescript men in black sent from Mallory coming to relieve them – he’s learned the names of all the weapons they carry with them, the different times of the day, can sign all of her favorite foods he’s cooked for her, knows pleaseandthank youandare you ok and has memorized who, what, when, where, why, how, if, that, thereandthis along with a few necessary phrases that include them.

Most precious of all, he learns the name of her brother and the nickname that she had for him – mouse. There’s some story or two there, he’s sure of it, but the sorrow in her eyes is still too near, and the conversation that passes between them is still too limited, to give it the attention it deserves.  

Still, he signs thank you when she shares that hidden part of her past with him, then says, “I’d be happy to hear more about him, whenever you would like.”

Kimiko gives him a small smile at that, though it’s sad at the edges in a way that makes his heart ache. She signs a short phrase to him that, a moment later, he’s pleased to figure out means I’d like that.

******

Before she heads off to her room for the night, he gently taps her on the shoulder and signs, do you want crepes tomorrow?

Or, he thinks he does, only he figures he must not have said it all correctly because she gives him a questioning look and asks if he means right now.

He shakes his head and says, “No, sorry, I meant for breakfast tomorrow.”

She smiles warmly at him, then signs back, I would like crepes, along with another word – or set of words – that he has to puzzle through for a moment.

He signs it back to himself and, after a moment, he recognizes one part of it – the word for day – with the other seeming like it could be eating.

He looks back up at her.

“This is…breakfast?” He asks, mimicking her previous movements.

She smiles widely and nods.

Do you want crepes for breakfast? He signs again, then grins at her when she signs back, I do, but I’ll help you.

I’d like that, he signs – or tries to, at least. He’s only working off his memory of seeing it once, after all.

It must be close enough, because she smiles and nods at him again, then, after a moment, reaches out and rearranges his hand – uncurling his pinkie so that it extends out and turning his entire hand so that his palm faces up.

It’s not the first time she’s reached out to correct his hand or finger placement today – both why not and apple tart had been particularly tricky for him to remember for whatever reason – but here, in the intimacy of this place they’ve been living for the past few months, in the dimness of the room and the quiet of this moment, her touch sets off a wave of emotions he’s spent the last few weeks trying to lock away from himself.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath in and lets it out again slowly, forcing his heels to grow roots into the ground to keep himself from stepping in closer to her, twisting his free hand in the edge of his jacket to stop himself from reaching up to rest his hand gently against her cheek, tucking his thumb against his palm to keep himself from imaging the feel of brushing it against the curve of her cheekbone.

He takes another long breathe in and forces his eyes away from where her fingertips are resting against the pulsepoint at his wrist.

“Good night, mon coeur,” he says softly, afraid that speaking any louder would give away everything he’s feeling right now.

She lets her hand slip from around his wrist, her thumb tracing a line up his palm in a way that he thinks (wishes, hopes) is intentional, and signs good night back to him. He watches her head to room, and smiles so widely his cheeks hurt when she turns back one last time to look at him before she closes the door behind her.

“Are they – ?” He hears Starlight begin to ask in a low voice.

“In a wholly undefined, somewhat strange, yet deeply committed relationship with one another?” Hughie finishes in a matter of fact tone. “Yes, they are.”

He sees Starlight shrug out of the corner of his eye.

“Doesn’t really look like it’s all that undefined,” she says quietly.

He doesn’t hear what Hughie says in response, because in the next moment M.M. comes up behind him.

“So, I take it you two have made up then?”

He turns to look at the other man, who genuinely does look glad for him.

He nods, and he knows the smile on his face must be goofy as shit right now but he doesn’t give a single fuck.

“She taught me the word gun today in her sign language.”

M.M. laughs.

“Of course you’d find that charming.” M.M. glances at Kimiko’s door. “Looks like she taught you a whole helluva lot more than gun though.”

“The congresswoman spent a lot of time watching TV today – Real Housewives of Orange County, I believe – so we had time.” He holds his hands up in front of him. “But we also kept watch, too, otherwise I would have learned more.”

“Relax, Frenchie, I’m not accusing you of being derelict in your duties or some shit. I’m just glad you two have figured out –.” He gestures between him and Kimiko’s door. “You know, whatever fuck was going on between the two of you.” He clears his throat. “So, uh, don’t worry about guard duty tomorrow morning – Hughie, Starlight and I can take a shift.”

“Oui?”

M.M. nods.

“It’ll be easier to learn a new language if you don’t have to spend half your time worrying about having to protect Neuman from some dumb fuck or supe.”

He grins widely at M.M. then reaches up and gives him a big kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, M.M.” He gives the man another kiss on the cheek before M.M. manages to push him off. “And for that, we will make you extra crepes tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

M.M. smiles.

“See, that’s why it’s good you two have made up. You haven’t made shit for breakfast for weeks.”

“So you admit you like my cooking.”

“I admit that I like not having to cook.” He smirks as he says it, then softens the expression into a genuine smile. “I am glad that you two figured whatever the fuck was going on out. Having someone to share your shit with…” He shrugs, his eyes getting that faraway look Frenchie recognizes as one he gets when he thinks of his wife and daughter. “That matters. You two deserve to have that for yourselves, and I’m glad you have it with each other.”

“Aww, M.M, you really do care.”

He goes to kiss him again, but is roughly pushed away by the other man.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t forget to put nutella on my crepes.”

FWIW, the season doesn’t make us suffer for long. Next week’s episode of The Boys gives us a real (and positive) turning point in Frenchie and Kimiko’s relationship, and also is probably my favorite episode this season (and maybe even in both seasons). 

Episode 7 gives us another big turning point and is good fic fodder. 

Or why that conflict in the church between Kimiko and Frenchie is a good (if painful) thing to witness 

This episode was a real low point for Kimiko and Frenchie in that it forced the low simmering issues between the two to boil over. 

And while that was very difficult to watch, I’m also glad that their issues are now out in the open – because only by acknowledging them can the show and the characters begin to address them.

(I’d also say that having the two come into this kind of conflict also shows how important the show considers their relationship – however the show wants to define that right now – and how it privileges their own individual journeys as well)

More meandering meta under the cut 

Kimiko is carrying around this huge weight of guilt and shame that she doesn’t know how quite to deal with, so she’s effectively not dealing with it and instead channeling her grief and hurt into hurting other people.

Frenchie sees this and it hurts him – not just because he cares about Kimiko and recognizes that it’s, as he says, poison for her soul but because he himself understands what she’s going through in a way no one else does.

Which is why this is extra hurtful for him. What makes their relationship so special for Frenchie is that he’s never had one like it in terms of non-physical intimacy, so to see Kimiko hurting like this and not sharing that hurt with him when he feels like he’s shared so much with her just hurts in a whole new and deeper way.

That hurt goes past frustration and bubbles over into anger when Kimiko signs to him that she doesn’t want his help, but he can’t know what she’s saying because she hasn’t opened herself up enough to teach him that. And that lack of openness and intimacy is the real thing that breaks him wide open and causes him to lash out against her. 

And though it can be frustrating that she hasn’t shared that language with him, I think that we have to see it from the point of view that this shared, created language is one of the most sacred and special parts of herself. And even though she and Frenchie are close, it isn’t easy to share everything about yourself. Kimiko has been so traumatized that she’s literally lost her ability to speak, so opening herself up to communicating again isn’t going to happen quickly or easily. 

There’s also the added facet that this is the language that she made with her brother, who is now lost to her forever. It’s hard to share something so special with someone new, and I bet there’s a part of Kimiko that feels like she’s honoring her brother by keeping that language just between the two of them. 

Imentioned in my last meta that there’s a real barrier to any further growth or intimacy between the two of them because of their inability to communicate freely and easily. But whereas that issue was lingering just beneath the surface, this episode brings it all out into the open in the most painful way possible. 

But it’s necessary pain, because only in bringing their issues to light can either of them ever hope to address them. 

In order to move forward, Kimiko needs to find a way to heal in a way that isn’t destructive, Frenchie needs to recognize Kimiko’s autonomy AND address his own trauma, and both these things must be communicated with the other person. 

Luckily, the show not only recognizes this, it works to address them – which is why I’ve constantly said that someone on the staff has to be a Kimiko x Frenchie shipper, lol. 

I know this episode was really hard to watch for our little ship, but as someone who has seen the whole season (I got press screeners), I have to say that I absolutely LOVED the last three episodes, and that the show doesn’t let us shippers suffer for long. 

I don’t know if this is an ~unpopular opinion or anything, but I’m actually quite fond of Cherie as a character.

First off, she poses absolutely no threat to Kimiko and Frenchie as a relationship. Frenchie is such a casually affectionate person – he kisses Hughie in excitement and as a congratulations twice in the series – that I am unbothered by their liasons in the slightest. The emotional intimacy and soul-baring honesty is something he only shares with Kimiko.

Secondly, she not only seems rather cool in general, she’s also provided a great way for the writers to explore the relationship (and the issues therein) between Frenchie and Kimiko.

(incredibly long and meandering meta following the cut) 

Cherie’s long friendship with Frenchie allows her to ask questions that no one else within the show could – or even would – ask about the nature of Frenchie and Kimiko’s relationship.

The deleted scene from the first episode not only has her voice a few things in favour of our little ship – that Frenchie has deep feelings for Kimiko (“I’ve seen the way you look at her”) and refutes, IMO, the platonic read to their relationship (he shows disdain when she describes Kimiko as a little sister or a daughter).

But that scene also brings up the issue that has begun to crop up in Frenchie and Kimiko’s relationship: the lack of communication. Frenchie is adamant that he and Kimiko are the same, that they read each other’s thoughts, to which Cherie asks – How do you know?

And the thing is – Frenchie doesn’t know, not really. He can’t. And therein lies a real problem for the two of them that must be addressed (and that, as someone who has seen the whole season, does get addressed).

Because as much as Frenchie and Kimiko are connected – and their connection is genuine and does run deep and only deepens because of what’s happened in the season so far – it can only go so far. There is a real barrier to their intimacy because of their inability to communicate freely and easily (and sometimes even at all). 

So I do think that Frenchie has done – at least a little bit – exactly what Cherie accuses him of doing: made Kimiko into “all the shit he wants her to be.” 

I don’t mean that Frenchie doesn’t truly see Kimiko – he does – or that he’s made her to be something completely different than who she is – he hasn’t. 

But because they aren’t able to truly communicate, I think there’s a part of Frenchie that has had to fill in the blanks a little bit. And in filling in those blanks, he’s turned her into a symbol of what he needs her to be for him: his own salvation. 

Cherie brings that up in episode 4 after the two of them have slept together. First of all, I love the set up of this scene. Frenchie is literally naked in Cherie’s bed, but the real intimacy of that moment still exists between Frenchie and Kimiko. The entire conversation between Cherie and Frenchie is about Kimiko. Like I said, Frenchie is casual with his physical intimacy; it is real emotional intimacy that is a rarity for him, and a bond he only really has with Kimiko. 

Secondly, going back to Kimiko turning into a symbol of salvation for Frenchie, Cherie brings up the she believes that Frenchie has turned Kimiko into a symbol of his own salvation – that ‘saving’ her will allow him to assuage his own guilt from all the people he’s hurt, specifically the children that Lamplighter killed. 

Frenchie balks at this assertion, and let it be known that I absolutely think that Cherie is oversimplifying it by A LOT.

HOWEVER, I do also think there’s a kernel of truth to this. As I mentioned earlier, in the absence of in-depth communication between Frenchie and Kimiko, Frenchie has inadvertently made Kimiko into what he needs her to be because he does not – and cannot, at this moment  – know who she is for herself. 

I want to stress that this isn’t because Frenchie is a bad person, nor is it because he isn’t trying. What he’s doing, even if in just some small measure, isn’t even an uncommon thing in relationships, romantic and otherwise; we are constantly turning people into symbols of what we need for us, rather than seeing them for who they are. 

But this problem is made worse because they are, at the moment, literally incapable of knowing one another the way they need to in order for their relationship to grow and progress. And not just because of their inability to communicate freely, although that’s a huge part of it. But because they themselves cannot really articulate who they are or what they need. 

Frenchie has buried his trauma deep down within himself and has misplaced the road to work through it, while Kimiko doesn’t know how to even begin to deal with her grief and trauma. And rather than having this shared trauma bring them together, it has driven them further apart – all of this made worse because the two of them don’t have the ability to communicate with one another. 

So I think that the real progress in their relationship (and what we should feel most excited about) isn’t necessarily about any sort of physical intimacy – again, we see how easily Frenchie gives that away and how little importance he places on it – but on the emotional intimacy between the two of them, which is something that both Frenchie and Kimiko struggle with, yet something they only have with one another. 

And that can only come when they are honest about who they are and what they need, and find a way to communicate both of those things with one another. 

On a last note – I think that Cherie has it wrong when she says that Frenchie just needs to leave Kimiko alone. One of my favorite lines of the episode is Frenchie saying, “What good does grieving alone ever do?” 

My second favorite line is when Annie tells Hughie that we’re all alone, and Hughie replies with, “But it doesn’t have to be like that.” 

And it doesn’t. 

Frenchie can’t take away the pain that Kimiko’s feeling and he can’t live her life for her, but he can be there for her, even if she’s too angry and grief-stricken to recognize what he’s doing or why, and he’s too confused and traumatized to understand how exactly he needs to be there for her. 

That to me is deeply romantic and intimate, even if the two of them didn’t end up well in this episode. 

Anyway, I absolutely love these two and really appreciate the way the writers have been handling their individual arcs and their relationship arc. Next week is a real low point for the two of them this season, where the simmering problems bubble over, but I love the show for taking it and them seriously. 

It has been a minute since I’ve attempted this but if you have any Frenchie x Kimiko fic requests, send them through.

This Frenchie x Kimiko fic I started last season is burning a hole in my Google drive…maybe this is the time to finally finish it.