[FIC] permanently black and blue (for you), 5/5
5.
On some indeterminate day in the future, Arthur will wake up and roll over, seeking the heat of another body. He will be greeted with an empty space, but warm sheets.
He will grumble incoherently under his breath before sitting up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. The bedroom will be in a state of disarray - shirts tossed haphazardly around the room, two different mobiles on the dresser, sensible jumpers and waistcoats mixed in with ruffled shirts and stylish trench coats in the closet.
He will pull on a pair of pajama pants before heading towards the bathroom. As he washes up, his eyes will land on the outline of a heart in the mirror, drawn carelessly with toothpaste. He’ll allow himself to smile for two seconds before shaking his head at the waste and drying his hands on a towel.
He will go downstairs to the kitchen, where Francis will roll his eyes good-naturedly at his messy appearance and gesture towards breakfast on the table. Arthur will sit down and eat and find something to nitpick - the toast will be slightly burnt or he won’t like the brand of tea Francis has bought for him. Francis will ruffle his hair and Arthur will slap at his arm and then Francis will lean in and place his hand at the curve of Arthur’s jaw, and kiss him good morning.
When they break apart, Arthur will ask, a little breathlessly, “Do you remember when we were children, and you said I hurt my finger because I took that rose against its will?”
Francis will pause, and then laugh. Arthur will flush and tell him to forget it, but Francis will lean in again and brush another kiss against his lips. “No, you foolish man. You are just exceptionally clumsy.”
End.