You Can't Refuse A Frenchman Forever [3/9]
anonymous
May 30 2009, 12:46:42 UTC
Which really didn't compare to what Francis would have done, had he been allowed to have his way with him in his study four days ago. He'd quite literally flown out of his seat when the man had all but laid down (nude) all over his work and had made those insanely sinful, hot eyes (that Arthur should really stop thinking about; he was out in public, on a bus)... The point was, that there was no way Arthur was going to subject himself to this ever again.
He cleared his throat, adjusted his briefcase on his lap and wriggled in his seat. He allowed his eyes to wander the bus and its occupants. He took a moment to glare over at the children jumping up and down in their seats, whilst shrieking at the top of their lungs.
He'd never let Alfred or Matthew act like that. They'd have had their bums slapped red raw if they had. What was with parents nowadays? The person sitting next to him stood and got off, letting Arthur stretch out slightly. Surely it wasn't hard to teach your kids how to act in public? If not for the sake of the other passengers and passers by then for their own safety - because it really wasn't safe for children to run up and down the aisle whilst on a moving bus.
"What the hell is wrong with Francis?"
Arthur's eyes shot from where they were admiring the clear, blue sky to inside the bus. The once empty seat beside him was now filled with a lot of angry, annoyed, loud Italian. He grimaced. Shit. Wasn't his self torture enough?
"Nothing." Arthur stand offishly, "He's peachy!"
Lovino glared at him, his face twisted into a scowl to rival his own, "No, he's not! Why the hell is he visiting that idiot, Antonio? You know he can't keep his hands to himself!"
Arthur's generous eyebrows furrowed, "He's still molesting Antonio?"
"He's a perverted bastard! What the hell do you think he's been doing? Sipping wine and chatting whilst watching me work my ass off?!" The brunette was very near bellowing as he threw his hands around in the air. Arthur's already wide eyes widened further when Lovino turned an angry finger at him, stabbing at him wildly with it, "And it's all your fault!"
"My fault?" He asked, "How in the bloody hell is his cheating on me my fault?!"
"Are you blind? He's sexually frustrated! He thinks you don't want him anymore and is hanging off of Antonio because he craves attention - and you know how oblivious that idiot is! That perverted bastard could have his hands stuck down his pants and he wouldn't notice!"
Lovino turned a vivid shade of crimson as he spat out that speck of truth. Not that Arthur could blame him. He knew what both Francis and Antonio were like. It had taken his flinging Antonio over his shoulder and talking very dirtily to him to get him to realise, 'hey, we're both drunk and Arthur's humping my leg - we should do something to remedy that'. And Francis...
Arthur felt his skin burn hotly as his blood boiled. That bastard was going to regret ever stepping into the Spaniard's house. How dare he cheat on him just because he hadn't bloody touched him in three weeks?! That poncy, French asshole! His knuckles were white as he clutched his briefcase and glared down at it.
When he looked back up to ask if Francis was still there or at home, Arthur found himself glaring at an elderly lady (who looked quite put out).
"M-My apologies, ma'am." He stuttered as he stood, cheeks red, noticing there were quite a few other passengers staring at him oddly, "Excuse me."
Francis was home when Arthur arrived. Innocently cooking dinner as though he hadn't just been over at Antonio's house, groping the man and doing other unspeakable acts to him. He supposed it was inevitable that the speech he'd composed on his way from the bus stop was forgotten upon seeing the wavy haired man in his pristine apron (it had been perfect too; filled with enough anger and disappointment and hurt that it would have made Francis feel so guilty he'd beg for forgiveness - not that Arthur was going to give it to him. No. At that point he'd planned to deck him a few times before drop-kicking him out of the house).
He cleared his throat, adjusted his briefcase on his lap and wriggled in his seat. He allowed his eyes to wander the bus and its occupants. He took a moment to glare over at the children jumping up and down in their seats, whilst shrieking at the top of their lungs.
He'd never let Alfred or Matthew act like that. They'd have had their bums slapped red raw if they had. What was with parents nowadays? The person sitting next to him stood and got off, letting Arthur stretch out slightly. Surely it wasn't hard to teach your kids how to act in public? If not for the sake of the other passengers and passers by then for their own safety - because it really wasn't safe for children to run up and down the aisle whilst on a moving bus.
"What the hell is wrong with Francis?"
Arthur's eyes shot from where they were admiring the clear, blue sky to inside the bus. The once empty seat beside him was now filled with a lot of angry, annoyed, loud Italian. He grimaced. Shit. Wasn't his self torture enough?
"Nothing." Arthur stand offishly, "He's peachy!"
Lovino glared at him, his face twisted into a scowl to rival his own, "No, he's not! Why the hell is he visiting that idiot, Antonio? You know he can't keep his hands to himself!"
Arthur's generous eyebrows furrowed, "He's still molesting Antonio?"
"He's a perverted bastard! What the hell do you think he's been doing? Sipping wine and chatting whilst watching me work my ass off?!" The brunette was very near bellowing as he threw his hands around in the air. Arthur's already wide eyes widened further when Lovino turned an angry finger at him, stabbing at him wildly with it, "And it's all your fault!"
"My fault?" He asked, "How in the bloody hell is his cheating on me my fault?!"
"Are you blind? He's sexually frustrated! He thinks you don't want him anymore and is hanging off of Antonio because he craves attention - and you know how oblivious that idiot is! That perverted bastard could have his hands stuck down his pants and he wouldn't notice!"
Lovino turned a vivid shade of crimson as he spat out that speck of truth. Not that Arthur could blame him. He knew what both Francis and Antonio were like. It had taken his flinging Antonio over his shoulder and talking very dirtily to him to get him to realise, 'hey, we're both drunk and Arthur's humping my leg - we should do something to remedy that'. And Francis...
Arthur felt his skin burn hotly as his blood boiled. That bastard was going to regret ever stepping into the Spaniard's house. How dare he cheat on him just because he hadn't bloody touched him in three weeks?! That poncy, French asshole! His knuckles were white as he clutched his briefcase and glared down at it.
When he looked back up to ask if Francis was still there or at home, Arthur found himself glaring at an elderly lady (who looked quite put out).
"M-My apologies, ma'am." He stuttered as he stood, cheeks red, noticing there were quite a few other passengers staring at him oddly, "Excuse me."
Francis was going to pay.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Francis was home when Arthur arrived. Innocently cooking dinner as though he hadn't just been over at Antonio's house, groping the man and doing other unspeakable acts to him. He supposed it was inevitable that the speech he'd composed on his way from the bus stop was forgotten upon seeing the wavy haired man in his pristine apron (it had been perfect too; filled with enough anger and disappointment and hurt that it would have made Francis feel so guilty he'd beg for forgiveness - not that Arthur was going to give it to him. No. At that point he'd planned to deck him a few times before drop-kicking him out of the house).
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