Alfred nearly fell off the bed in his haste to turn off his alarm clock, but he managed to leverage the front half of his body back onto the mattress by pushing back against the floor with one arm. The moment he fell back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes wide. Slowly, he sat up and looked at his lap.
It was wet.
He sat there staring at it for some time, his heart beating a mile a minute - the only sound in the room the ticking of his alarm clock. But the last words of his dream rang through his head on repeat. He pulled the covers back and looked at the damage up close.
“Fuck.”
……………………………………………….
“Francis, I need to speak with you.”
Francis turned around from conversing with Antonio and gave him a questioning look.
“In private,” Alfred added, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, and hoping Francis would just accept with little fanfare until they were out the door of the meeting room. Arthur was already on the other side of the room, ignoring him and speaking with Matthew, and Alfred wanted to keep it that way.
Thankfully, Francis nodded to him, politely excusing himself from Antonio to follow Alfred out into the hall. Alfred finally stopped in front of the men’s bathroom, which was down a ways at the end.
“You are here early today, Amerique,” Francis observed with a smirk. “Something special happen, hm?”
Alfred pushed Texas up his nose and ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “You could say that.”
Francis only smiled, looking at him expectantly.
“I think…” Alfred began, wondering how he should phrase this. “It is what you thought it was.”
“What is?”
Now Alfred knew Francis was playing dumb and he scowled. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I do not,” Francis replied, slapping on his best innocent look. “Enlighten me, s’il vous plait.”
Alfred frowned, staring the man down for a bit, but Francis’s expression of polite interest never wavered.
“Jesus…fine,” Alfred replied, looking away in order to gather the courage for what he had to say - but it wasn’t because he was scared. No, he was just trying to be careful. “I know I love him.”
“Who?”
Alfred glared at Francis and the man actually chuckled.
“Sorry, sorry, mon cher, but you should see the look on your face.” Francis smiled jovially. “I never knew you could be so serious.”
“I have my moments,” Alfred replied slowly, now watching the man a bit warily.
“Those moments seem to be happening more frequently,” Francis informed him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You need to loosen up, mon ami. Be who you used to be.”
Alfred attempted to smile and Francis began to laugh outright.
“Don’t strain yourself, Amerique,” Francis gasped through his laughter. “You look in pain.”
Alfred’s faux smile dropped, and he suddenly felt worried. “What’s happening to me?”
“Love changes people,” Francis replied, his tone suddenly serious. “c’est naturale.”
“Is it permanent?” Alfred tried not to sound panicked, although he probably did.
“It is probably just nerves, mon cher,” Francis soothed. “Do not worry so much. You must relax if you want to gain cher Angleterre’s affections, no?”
“That’s impossible,” Alfred muttered, suddenly wondering why he was even telling Francis any of this at all. This wouldn’t achieve anything, and there was absolutely no use getting his hopes up.
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGG
Alfred nearly fell off the bed in his haste to turn off his alarm clock, but he managed to leverage the front half of his body back onto the mattress by pushing back against the floor with one arm. The moment he fell back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes wide. Slowly, he sat up and looked at his lap.
It was wet.
He sat there staring at it for some time, his heart beating a mile a minute - the only sound in the room the ticking of his alarm clock. But the last words of his dream rang through his head on repeat. He pulled the covers back and looked at the damage up close.
“Fuck.”
……………………………………………….
“Francis, I need to speak with you.”
Francis turned around from conversing with Antonio and gave him a questioning look.
“In private,” Alfred added, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, and hoping Francis would just accept with little fanfare until they were out the door of the meeting room. Arthur was already on the other side of the room, ignoring him and speaking with Matthew, and Alfred wanted to keep it that way.
Thankfully, Francis nodded to him, politely excusing himself from Antonio to follow Alfred out into the hall. Alfred finally stopped in front of the men’s bathroom, which was down a ways at the end.
“You are here early today, Amerique,” Francis observed with a smirk. “Something special happen, hm?”
Alfred pushed Texas up his nose and ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “You could say that.”
Francis only smiled, looking at him expectantly.
“I think…” Alfred began, wondering how he should phrase this. “It is what you thought it was.”
“What is?”
Now Alfred knew Francis was playing dumb and he scowled. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I do not,” Francis replied, slapping on his best innocent look. “Enlighten me, s’il vous plait.”
Alfred frowned, staring the man down for a bit, but Francis’s expression of polite interest never wavered.
“Jesus…fine,” Alfred replied, looking away in order to gather the courage for what he had to say - but it wasn’t because he was scared. No, he was just trying to be careful. “I know I love him.”
“Who?”
Alfred glared at Francis and the man actually chuckled.
“Sorry, sorry, mon cher, but you should see the look on your face.” Francis smiled jovially. “I never knew you could be so serious.”
“I have my moments,” Alfred replied slowly, now watching the man a bit warily.
“Those moments seem to be happening more frequently,” Francis informed him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You need to loosen up, mon ami. Be who you used to be.”
Alfred attempted to smile and Francis began to laugh outright.
“Don’t strain yourself, Amerique,” Francis gasped through his laughter. “You look in pain.”
Alfred’s faux smile dropped, and he suddenly felt worried. “What’s happening to me?”
“Love changes people,” Francis replied, his tone suddenly serious. “c’est naturale.”
“Is it permanent?” Alfred tried not to sound panicked, although he probably did.
“It is probably just nerves, mon cher,” Francis soothed. “Do not worry so much. You must relax if you want to gain cher Angleterre’s affections, no?”
“That’s impossible,” Alfred muttered, suddenly wondering why he was even telling Francis any of this at all. This wouldn’t achieve anything, and there was absolutely no use getting his hopes up.
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