Wit Of The Staircase 78/?
anonymous
May 25 2011, 09:09:59 UTC
They didn't stop until they were outside, and the music was just a dull sound of that awful beat which would probably haunt his nightmares-or more likely and less pseudo-hipster dramatic-get stuck in his head all damn week.
They sat out on the stoop. Francis already looked moody and dejected. Matthew figured this probably ruined his whole night-maybe even whole week.
There was a dull streetlight over near the football field. Insects were flying about it, but it was too cold a night for mosquitoes to be out.
"Why would anyone do that?" Francis asked.
"She was trying to do something new, I guess, eh. She could never meet Piaf's version, so she tried something new. It didn't exactly work-"
"-Didn't exactly work? Didn't exactly work? That song was like taking the Mona Lisa and shitting upon it and trying to call it art!"
Matthew patted Francis on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm on your side here."
"I know. I'm not snapping at you. It's just-" He shook his head.
"I was going to dance with you," Francis said. "But Gilbert played some stupid prank and it was all ruined."
"It's all right," Matthew said. "There's sure to be other parties."
"But he ruined my entire plan," Francis said, still pouting. "It was going to be great and romantic and he ruined it for a prank that wasn't even funny!"
Matthew didn't think that Francis' enmity would last past a week. That was the usual duration of their fights, anyways. Like last time when Gilbert had claimed Napoleon hadn't been 'all that' and didn't count because he was technically Corsican, and Francis had in turn, pointed out that Napoleon had spanked the Prussians like a red-headed stepchild and well, it all went downhill from there.
They bickered and played stupid games and insulted each other, but Francis knew that they were family in every sense of the word.
"So, we'll get him back eventually, eh," Matthew said. He shrugged. "It was...a nice thought and I'm thankful. But I'm really just fine spending time out here too."
Francis smiled.
"You're so level-headed," Francis said. "And not in a stuffy, virginal, stick-up-the-ass way like Ludwig."
"Being the only sane man around is about all I can claim sometimes, but I do it well, I guess," Matthew said. "Anyways, here-a cigarette will help," Matthew said. He fished around the pockets of Francis' jeans.
Matthew had started carrying a lighter, just so he could give Francis a light. Though he supposed, it might come handy if he ever went to any concerts.
Francis was smiling at him.
"What?" Matthew asked. "What's so funny?"
"You," Francis said.
"Er, thanks?" Matthew said. "Here's your pack, by the way."
Francis took it gratefully and put the cigarette in-between his lips. Matthew lifted up the lighter, and lit it until the ember faintly glowed. Francis took a deep drag, and his mood seemed to lighten a little. He put the cigarette between his fingers and exhaled smoke. The relaxation was so marked, it was practically post-coital.
"I was amused because I couldn't help but think you've changed quite a bit from the boy who took me weeks just to find and trembled and stuttered like I was mugging him," Francis said.
Matthew chuckled. 'I guess...You've changed a bit, too."
Francis frowned. "I haven't changed."
"You stole my phone, probably did the nasty with it-and really that's just the beginning," Matthew said.
"I'd still do that. In fact, the reason why you couldn't find your phone during the exams was because I stole it for some company while you were busy," Francis said.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Matthew said with a sigh.
Francis laughed.
"It just means you know me better now," Francis whispered. Francis moved a little closer. The kiss came in stages. First Francis' hand on his shoulder, then the other one behind his neck. He could still feel the warmth and wetness of the filter side of the cigarette against his skin. He could taste cigarettes and wine.
But all Matthew could think was Francis had changed. He seemed kinder, somehow. Sure he still played pranks and said snarky things, but there was just this thing-it was hard to explain really.
Except Francis was kinder to him. He smiled when he saw him, he didn't treat Matthew like a lackey or third wheel.
They didn't stop until they were outside, and the music was just a dull sound of that awful beat which would probably haunt his nightmares-or more likely and less pseudo-hipster dramatic-get stuck in his head all damn week.
They sat out on the stoop. Francis already looked moody and dejected. Matthew figured this probably ruined his whole night-maybe even whole week.
There was a dull streetlight over near the football field. Insects were flying about it, but it was too cold a night for mosquitoes to be out.
"Why would anyone do that?" Francis asked.
"She was trying to do something new, I guess, eh. She could never meet Piaf's version, so she tried something new. It didn't exactly work-"
"-Didn't exactly work? Didn't exactly work? That song was like taking the Mona Lisa and shitting upon it and trying to call it art!"
Matthew patted Francis on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm on your side here."
"I know. I'm not snapping at you. It's just-" He shook his head.
"I was going to dance with you," Francis said. "But Gilbert played some stupid prank and it was all ruined."
"It's all right," Matthew said. "There's sure to be other parties."
"But he ruined my entire plan," Francis said, still pouting. "It was going to be great and romantic and he ruined it for a prank that wasn't even funny!"
Matthew didn't think that Francis' enmity would last past a week. That was the usual duration of their fights, anyways. Like last time when Gilbert had claimed Napoleon hadn't been 'all that' and didn't count because he was technically Corsican, and Francis had in turn, pointed out that Napoleon had spanked the Prussians like a red-headed stepchild and well, it all went downhill from there.
They bickered and played stupid games and insulted each other, but Francis knew that they were family in every sense of the word.
"So, we'll get him back eventually, eh," Matthew said. He shrugged. "It was...a nice thought and I'm thankful. But I'm really just fine spending time out here too."
Francis smiled.
"You're so level-headed," Francis said. "And not in a stuffy, virginal, stick-up-the-ass way like Ludwig."
"Being the only sane man around is about all I can claim sometimes, but I do it well, I guess," Matthew said. "Anyways, here-a cigarette will help," Matthew said. He fished around the pockets of Francis' jeans.
Matthew had started carrying a lighter, just so he could give Francis a light. Though he supposed, it might come handy if he ever went to any concerts.
Francis was smiling at him.
"What?" Matthew asked. "What's so funny?"
"You," Francis said.
"Er, thanks?" Matthew said. "Here's your pack, by the way."
Francis took it gratefully and put the cigarette in-between his lips. Matthew lifted up the lighter, and lit it until the ember faintly glowed. Francis took a deep drag, and his mood seemed to lighten a little. He put the cigarette between his fingers and exhaled smoke. The relaxation was so marked, it was practically post-coital.
"I was amused because I couldn't help but think you've changed quite a bit from the boy who took me weeks just to find and trembled and stuttered like I was mugging him," Francis said.
Matthew chuckled. 'I guess...You've changed a bit, too."
Francis frowned. "I haven't changed."
"You stole my phone, probably did the nasty with it-and really that's just the beginning," Matthew said.
"I'd still do that. In fact, the reason why you couldn't find your phone during the exams was because I stole it for some company while you were busy," Francis said.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Matthew said with a sigh.
Francis laughed.
"It just means you know me better now," Francis whispered. Francis moved a little closer. The kiss came in stages. First Francis' hand on his shoulder, then the other one behind his neck. He could still feel the warmth and wetness of the filter side of the cigarette against his skin. He could taste cigarettes and wine.
But all Matthew could think was Francis had changed. He seemed kinder, somehow. Sure he still played pranks and said snarky things, but there was just this thing-it was hard to explain really.
Except Francis was kinder to him. He smiled when he saw him, he didn't treat Matthew like a lackey or third wheel.
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