Wit Of The Staircase 72/?
anonymous
January 14 2011, 02:28:16 UTC
Originally, there was the actual Italian there, but I don't know a thing about Italian and figured it was better to summarize than defile the language via internet translations. Plus, to be fair, Matt doesn't know Italian either, so. Basically, he was calling Antonio a piece of shit, a son of a whore and a dick. --
Nowadays, instead of being the third wheel for Alfred and Arthur, he mostly hung with the Bad Friends. He reasoned that he'd be cockblocking a lot less, and though he'd also be a chance they'd kill each other without Matthew to moderate their fighting, but Matthew hoped this would lead to them making out or having desperate sex because seriously, the tension was killing them all.
Francis had no shame at all, of course. Whenever Matthew was coming around for after hours of passing drinks around and all the other chaos they got into, Francis would pull him down for a kiss, uncaring of who was watching. In fact, he wasn't even just doing it to piss off Arthur or Alfred, as most of the time, they were off doing other things.
Today they were hanging out at the apartment, because Gilbert got banned from the liquor store again. They had still by some magical means acquired alcohol, and Gilbert was shotgunning beers. Francis was mostly ignoring his wine, because Matthew was there, and that was pretty gratifying, having a guy who was probably already doomed to a life of alcoholism be too distracted with playing with his hair to have a drink?
Francis pulled off Matthew's glasses and put them on himself. "Hmm, maybe the bespectacled look is good for me..."
"Uh, Francis? I kind of need those."
Matthew fumbled for them, but Francis always stayed a little bit ahead. Francis took a shot of himself with a Polaroid. Matthew tried to get the glasses, but Francis pulled back.
"Perhaps I will take them as a trophy," Francis said.
"Isn't my virginity enough of a trophy?" Matthew said.
"Good point," Francis said. "But no, it's not enough. Your glasses, though..."
"Seriously, Francis. Not fair. I'm really nearsighted."
He kissed Matthew's cheek and took another picture. This one was of a bespectacled Francis kissing him.
"Franciiiss. Don't abscond with my glasses, please!" Matthew reached for his glasses, only to have Francis pull them away.
"Come on," Matthew said. He flailed about, nearly tripping as he reached out for his glasses. Francis was good at playing keep away, but then, it wasn't that hard when you were dealing with someone who was very nearsighted without them. Gilbert and Antonio of course, thought this was hilarious. Matthew thought it a lot less so, though it was sort of refreshing. Francis was just having a whim, and this wasn't actually bullying. He wouldn't smash it under his shoes and leave Matthew fumbling around in the locker room. In fact, like most of Francis' whims, he soon tired of this and passed surrendered them with one final kiss to his nose.
Then, while Matthew was cleaning off the smudge marks from where Francis had gripped them on his shirt, Francis went in another direction entirely.
"There's a dance coming soon."
"I can't dance, remember?" Matthew said. "Besides, I never do these sorts of things."
Humiliating himself in front of the whole school wasn't his idea of a good time, even if he could've gotten a date. Not that they'd actually remember him, but still, it wasn't a chance he'd want to take.
"Ah, yes. It's time for those lessons I promised you."
"Dancing? I'll show you some fucking awesome dancing!" Gilbert began to do the robot while singing Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto. Antonio clapped and cheered him on, while Francis' were more along the line of jeering.
"A tango!"
They comically started dancing together, Francis taking the female part. Francis put a rose in his mouth - for he was never without a rose of some sort, hidden in some spot or pilfered from some and Antonio dipped him so low that Matthew was sure his head was going to touch the floor for a moment. It was such a spectacle that they didn't see the door open, or the very angry Italian boyfriend standing there. If the look in his eyes was any indication, had he a a gun at the moment, it'd probably have been a double homicide.
--
Nowadays, instead of being the third wheel for Alfred and Arthur, he mostly hung with the Bad Friends. He reasoned that he'd be cockblocking a lot less, and though he'd also be a chance they'd kill each other without Matthew to moderate their fighting, but Matthew hoped this would lead to them making out or having desperate sex because seriously, the tension was killing them all.
Francis had no shame at all, of course. Whenever Matthew was coming around for after hours of passing drinks around and all the other chaos they got into, Francis would pull him down for a kiss, uncaring of who was watching. In fact, he wasn't even just doing it to piss off Arthur or Alfred, as most of the time, they were off doing other things.
Today they were hanging out at the apartment, because Gilbert got banned from the liquor store again. They had still by some magical means acquired alcohol, and Gilbert was shotgunning beers. Francis was mostly ignoring his wine, because Matthew was there, and that was pretty gratifying, having a guy who was probably already doomed to a life of alcoholism be too distracted with playing with his hair to have a drink?
Francis pulled off Matthew's glasses and put them on himself. "Hmm, maybe the bespectacled look is good for me..."
"Uh, Francis? I kind of need those."
Matthew fumbled for them, but Francis always stayed a little bit ahead. Francis took a shot of himself with a Polaroid. Matthew tried to get the glasses, but Francis pulled back.
"Perhaps I will take them as a trophy," Francis said.
"Isn't my virginity enough of a trophy?" Matthew said.
"Good point," Francis said. "But no, it's not enough. Your glasses, though..."
"Seriously, Francis. Not fair. I'm really nearsighted."
He kissed Matthew's cheek and took another picture. This one was of a bespectacled Francis kissing him.
"Franciiiss. Don't abscond with my glasses, please!" Matthew reached for his glasses, only to have Francis pull them away.
"Come on," Matthew said. He flailed about, nearly tripping as he reached out for his glasses. Francis was good at playing keep away, but then, it wasn't that hard when you were dealing with someone who was very nearsighted without them. Gilbert and Antonio of course, thought this was hilarious. Matthew thought it a lot less so, though it was sort of refreshing. Francis was just having a whim, and this wasn't actually bullying. He wouldn't smash it under his shoes and leave Matthew fumbling around in the locker room. In fact, like most of Francis' whims, he soon tired of this and passed surrendered them with one final kiss to his nose.
Then, while Matthew was cleaning off the smudge marks from where Francis had gripped them on his shirt, Francis went in another direction entirely.
"There's a dance coming soon."
"I can't dance, remember?" Matthew said. "Besides, I never do these sorts of things."
Humiliating himself in front of the whole school wasn't his idea of a good time, even if he could've gotten a date. Not that they'd actually remember him, but still, it wasn't a chance he'd want to take.
"Ah, yes. It's time for those lessons I promised you."
"Dancing? I'll show you some fucking awesome dancing!" Gilbert began to do the robot while singing Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto. Antonio clapped and cheered him on, while Francis' were more along the line of jeering.
"A tango!"
They comically started dancing together, Francis taking the female part. Francis put a rose in his mouth - for he was never without a rose of some sort, hidden in some spot or pilfered from some and Antonio dipped him so low that Matthew was sure his head was going to touch the floor for a moment. It was such a spectacle that they didn't see the door open, or the very angry Italian boyfriend standing there. If the look in his eyes was any indication, had he a a gun at the moment, it'd probably have been a double homicide.
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