You are the daydream in my eyes, there whenever I wake up
I am finally finished with this. I've decided I'm done editing, re-editing, and adding bits. I know this is late, really late, but I started on Francis's birthday, so that has to count for something, right? heh Feel free to provide suggestions and constructive criticism. I hope you like it! Also I do not take French and thus I consulted the Internet, so if anything seems off or completely wrong, please feel free to speak up!
Title: Bon Anniversaire, Francis!
Author/Artist: rainy_fantasy
Character(s) or Pairing(s): France/England, Prussia, Spain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3, 439
Warnings: Fluff, some mild swearing, and suggestion.
Summary: On Francis's birthday, Arthur decides he needs help shopping for furniture of all things while Francis realizes he'd rather be more than just friends.
An elegant man set an empty glass next to a cool bottle of unopened wine on the table. Only the finest wine for such a grand occasion, of course. As he took a seat, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket to the tune of La Marseillaise.
“Bonjour.”
“Oi, Francis. Where are you?” It was Arthur, his sword enemy some thought, though they always managed to stay on relatively good terms. In fact, their constant bickering could almost be considered a sport.
His voice was muffled over the phone as the sounds of passing cars and nearby conversations made it hard to hear. Despite this, Arthur’s tone rang loud and clear somewhere in Francis. Lately their relationship changed, not by much, but enough to change the significance of even the smallest of actions and words. Then there was always that warm feeling that he always had when he was with the Englishmen…
“Hey, you there?” Arthur shouted even louder, snapping Francis out of his dream state.
“Oui, Anglais. Fais ce que tu veux?”
“Francis, you know I don’t understand a blood thing you just said.” Arthur’s words made him chuckle.
“What is it?”
“I uhh, I was wondering. Are you free? I need help shopping. You know, redecorating my apartment and such? You don’t have to, but you’re pretty good at these kinds of things…” His voice trailed off and Francis had to press the phone closer to his ear to catch it all.
“Okay, I’ll help. I don’t have any plans for the day yet,” considering it’s ten in the morning. He always woke up a little before then and it seemed Arthur was noticing. What was he planning? Well I guess I could hold off celebrating till the evening.
Arthur sighed in relief, distorting the sound in the receiver even more. “I’ll be there soon.” Francis snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. He sighed, looking at the tempting bottle in front of him. Later.
Placing it lovingly back into the fridge, he spent the remaining fifteen minutes cleaning up before the doorbell rang. The bell sent a strange feeling through his nerves and he even checked the mirror on his way to the door.
There was Arthur, fumbling with a small bag in his hands as he stared at the doormat. “Arthur.” That pulled the man’s sight up to meet his face.
They stared at one another for a minute, possibly two, before Arthur turned away and held up the bag. “Happy Birthday,” he mumbled to the wall. Francis raised his eyebrows in surprised, but still took the bag. Peering into it he found a small box of chocolates and he felt the left side of his mouth pull up.
“I…didn’t know what to get you.”
“Merci boucoup.” Arthur’s face flushed and Francis couldn’t help but grin.
“Did you get my card?”
“Oui. Thank you again.” A small smile grew on the dirty blonde’s face before he caught himself.
“We should, uh, get going. Yeah, don’t want to waste the day on your doorstep, do we?” Francis nodded and held up his hand for Arthur to wait as he dropped off his parcel next to his collection of colorful birthday cards on the hallway table.
When he came back, he found Arthur fidgeting again which brought a smile back onto Francis’s face. Arthur, noticing his return, led them down the steps heading into the street as Francis followed.
As they walked into town, Francis looked up into the sky while Arthur stared at the passing scenery. “So, what are we looking for?” Francis asked, flicking his blonde bangs out of his face.
“Hmm?” He was dazing again. “Oh umm, curtains. I need curtains, among other things…”
“Which room?”
“The tea room and the living room.”
“Okay, anything else?”
“A carpet, medium-sized, and then one couch.”
“What kind of couch?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a variety of couches, Anglais.”
“Well, I guess I would like one that looks like my old one.”
“I don’t know which one that is.”
“The big, brown one. It’s in the living room.”
“I haven’t been in your living room.”
“Yeah you have, about a half a year ago I do recall.”
“Well, I haven’t been in your living room for that long.
“Oh yeah, I invited you all to play cricket then…” One of the few invites to his house. It was either tea or cricket and it almost always involved a group. If it ever was just the two of them, it was either at Francis’s or the town. Somehow that bothered him.
“Anyway, I’ll just pick something once we get there.” Francis nodded and they returned to their awkward silence until they got to the nearest furniture store.
Arthur fussed over every detail and tossed off most of Francis’s suggestions in the process. Francis was left with the position of a wallflower, no matter how gorgeous he looked compared to the actual wallpaper.
While they browsed women automatically migrated to the room they were in, toeing their grumbling husbands along for the ride. The more courageous ones would ask for his opinions on a variety of things. When Francis showed a particular interest in something, they would buy the item in question in a heartbeat. All the while, Francis would glance out of the corner of his eye at the increasingly agitated Arthur. His devilish smile grew after every reaction.
After a fairly inquisitive brunette left carrying a particularly expensive lamp, which she almost certainly did not need, Francis turned to his companion again. This time he felt his eyes linger, trailing along his thin, hunched-over figure as the man inspected a leather couch. It wasn’t just a glance either. Francis examined every detail. From the way his white dress shirt peaked out from under his light jacket, to the creases in his dress pants and the way his hair stuck up and out at certain points, then tangled together in the most elegant of ways in the thick of it.
Curious, very curious, Francis told himself.
“Has your possy finally left?” Arthur spat.
“Quoi? You did not like their company?”
“Their company? They’re complete strangers! Besides, if you keep it up, I’d suspect that the employees would refuse to let you leave until you agree to work here!”
“Well maybe then you’ll listen to my suggestions.” Arthur began to sputter and after a few moments, gave up on the argument, storming off into another room. Francis just rolled his eyes and followed after him.
A couple hours plus a few stores later, Francis felt himself nodding off in an unoccupied chair. “Is that all for your, Sir?” he heard a sales clerk ask Arthur once he had finished ordering a few things.
“No, there’s one more thing, actually.” Francis could just see the blush grow on the Englishmen’s face as he caught that familiar tone in his voice. He focused all of his attention on the next few words. “Is this all of the, uh, bed linens you have?” The word sent a tingle up his spine and Francis realized that he just had to be awake for this.
“Oh, no Sir. We have some more fabrics in the back along with a large variety in our catalog, if you would like to take a look.”
“Yes, that would be great.” Francis peaked through half-open eyes just in time to catch Arthur’s quick, cautious glance back at him before he followed the woman. He stood up gracefully and tagged along, feeling rejuvenated and wide awake.
In an instant the Frenchman was at his side. Arthur sent him threatening glares while the clerk’s back was turned. Her eyebrows shot up once she turned around, carrying a thick book in her arms. “Oh, you must be…” she started, staring at Francis with a suggestive tone.
Before Francis even had a shot, Arthur quickly answered. “No! No, he’s just a friend.” It was almost too quick and desperate. The woman looked suspiciously at the two men who stood elbow-to-elbow. Francis chuckled and Arthur’s face turned redder than a ruby. Mignon.
“Well, here is our selection, Sir,” she spoke while placing the book on a table and pointing out the fabric rack next to them. “Any generic ideas?
It was Francis’s turn now, and he took it without a second thought. “Well, I think this blue is nice, non? It matches the curtains quite nicely, and it looks so elegant with your oak bed post.” The look on Arthur’s face? Priceless. The woman just coughed nervously while it seemed Arthur was trying his hardest not to punch the smirking man in front of him.
“D-don’t act like you’ve been in my room, Bastard,” he whispered to Francis with as much hatred as he could manage without alerting the woman. Francis just winked which only infuriated him even more.
“As for the type of cloth,” Francis added, “I would suggest this Egyptian cotton. It’s so smooth to the touch. Simply perfect for those sleepless nights.” His tongue articulated every work with surgical precision and he winked again, adding an extra shade of red to Arthur’s stunned face along with the woman’s now.
Once Arthur gained his composure again, his thick brows pulled into a glare and he handed him money out of his wallet. “Go. Ice cream. Now.” Francis grinned from ear-to-ear, taking the money and heading for the exit. His mission was a success and he chuckled at the thought of Arthur desperately attempting to work his way out of that one.
Francis patiently sat on the patio of the new ice cream shop only a block away from the furniture store. He fell into a daze as he stared over the railing and into the harbor. An interesting day it was turning out to be. He was feeling strange again. The chills, the adrenaline, the day dreams. It only started recently, but when? Was he sick?
“Hey, I told you to get us ice cream,” shouted a familiar voice.
“Oui, but it would have melted at the rate you pick out things.”
“Well then, what about yours? You could have eaten it.” Arthur was at the small table now and he took a seat across from him.
“I waited.” He watched the man flush at the seemingly insignificant gesture.
“Well I’m here now,” Arthur grumbled, turning to look at the large menu plastered on the outside of the windows. “What do you want?”
“Vanilla.” Arthur nodded, standing up and walking over to one of the windows to place their order. Francis watched him carefully, memorizing the rhythm at which he swung his arms and the way his lips moved as he spoke.
“What’s that look for?” Arthur asked, embarrassment spreading on his face as he handed Francis his ice cream.
“Hmm, what look?” he replied, taking the cone out of his hands. Their fingers brushed and a rush of feeling washed through him. They both blushed that time and concentrated on their ice cream.
Francis swapped his attention between his melting dessert to the pink tongue of Arthur’s that popped out every once in a while, licking his chocolate soft serve. “So, I take it you found everything you needed?”
“Yes, in fact I did, no thanks to you.”
“You ignored me, if you’ve forgotten, Anglais.”
He grunted and turned back to his diminishing treat. “So, what the bloody hell was that back there?”
“Back where?” Francis asked innocently.
“You know exactly where. The clerk could hardly speak after that!”
“She’s just shy, or maybe she’s sad that you are taken?”
“T-t-taken?! What are you going on about?” Francis only winked and Arthur bit a large chunk out of his ice cream furiously. A moment later he cringed in pain, spitting out ice cream and curses. He gained control again after a minute and continued, holding his head. “Well then can you explain to me how that was helping?”
“I was only providing my input.”
“Input, ha!” They finished off their cones, Francis calmly while Arthur cautiously. The two men stood up and deposited the rest.
“Viens, je t'emmène. Let’s take a walk.” Francis half suggested, half commanded. Arthur pouted and crossed his arms, but still ran after Francis’s already retreating figure.
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, just around the area, along the pier and by the water. That would be nice, non?” Nice especially for Arthur who absolutely adored the water. His heart warmed as Arthur’s eyes lit up in agreement.
As they walked Francis could feel a strange but euphoric atmosphere between them. No longer was it awkward and unsure or annoyed and frustrated. Just simply…peaceful.
“So…” Arthur spoke cautiously. “What were you try-…What was th-…What-What did you mean by…‘taken’?” Francis turned to Arthur, not able to hide his surprise from his face. “I mean…did you really mean-” Arthur immediately cut himself off and stared down at the brick sidewalk.
His words struck Francis just right to make him re-analyze…everything. His strange symptoms of the day, no, even before then… His heart beat faster and his lips felt dry. What was this feeling? He could hardly comprehend the strange butterfly sensation in his chest or the slight dizziness in his head, but when his bare arm brushed Arthur’s as he unconsciously moved closer, the spark from before rushed through him again.
His experience with these kinds of things…they didn’t even compare. They were always so forced and fake. Never once did he experience feelings at this amplitude. To think that he once wondered if that was how it would always be for him. He couldn’t let this go or fade, not after how right it felt just to be walking with him like this.
Their fingers brushed pass each other after the second swing of the arm, sending the spark through his system again. On the third pass, Francis hooked his fingers with Arthur’s, but after a moment that ended all too soon, Arthur broke away, pulling his hand nervously through his hair and turning to look up at the sky. Francis felt his vision shift away to the left and there was the temptation to let this foreign feeling pass.
No, he couldn’t. He wasn’t walking with this man out of boredom, he didn’t feel this way because he was sick, and he most certainly did not talk to this man because he was lonely. Francis felt that he could think of a thousand things that he loved and hated about Arthur which only gave him even more confidence to reach out once Arthur dropped his hand again.
The feeling that coursed through his veins as he tightly pressed their palms together and entangled their fingers was exhilarating. His heart beat increased, his senses were on full alert, and his body grew warm. This time Arthur relaxed into Francis’s firm grip and let his fingers rest on his hand. Neither of them seemed to want to ever let go.
“You know-” Francis croaked and paused to steady his voice, “lately I’ve wished our outings didn’t just consist of booze and curses.”
“You mean we should add ice cream into the mix?” Francis laughed, really laughed.
“Ha, maybe,” he grinned.
“Honestly though, I kind of wish we could have more days like this,” Arthur said with a smile that reached his eyes.
“If we do then you’ll be out of money and with a house full of furniture.”
Arthur laughed, elbowing Francis in the waist. “You know what I me-” His words were cut off as Francis took a hold of his other hand, drawing him close. He stared directly into those emerald eyes with as serious of an expression he could wear. The mint and chocolate scent that drifted from Arthur’s open mouth was intoxicating.
“Arthur, I want this, I want you more than anything else. Your words, your movements,” he laughed, amazed at what he was saying, “I just can’t get it out of my head. I know I have quite the…reputation, but I promise you that this is something different. Please, if you feel in anyway similar, tell me. I need to know.” The moments as they stood inches away lasted forever. His heart beat harder than ever before as he anxiously awaited Arthur’s answer.
That adorable flush of his returned in full force on his cheeks as he searched the blue eyes staring back at him. He seemed to be failing at finding the correct words and finally settled on something he could manage to say without losing his breath. “D-dammit, even I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you.” And that was it, that was all he needed to hear.
Without another word Francis closed the space between them, pressing their lips firmly and confidently together. It was better than he could ever imagine. All the many lips that touched his felt like sand against the skin compared to this. He made sure to memorize the feeling that rushed through him, the way Arthur moved his lips with his own, and the atmosphere around them. He didn’t want to forget it for a minute.
When they finally released, Francis felt a tingle around his mouth as he let himself gaze at the man in front of him. After a minute Arthur turned away, hiding his blush. “S-say something already,” he whispered nervously.
Francis just laughed, wrapping his right arm around him and kissing him on the ear. “But you look so cute.” Arthur’s blush grew twice as red and he attempted to laugh it off. “So, what’s next?”
As if a light bulb clicked on, Arthur shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He flipped it open, pressing a couple of buttons while carefully turning it far enough away for Francis not to see. “Actually, I should be heading home. I have a couple things I need to get done before tomorrow.”
Francis felt his cheer drop a couple of notches, but refused to let it get to him. “Alright, shall I walk you home then?”
“Al-alright.” There was that blush again. As they started walking, Arthur began to desperately search the rest his pockets. He had a frown grow on his face and Francis couldn’t help himself.
“What’s wrong?”
“My keys! Dammit, where did they go?”
“Your house keys?”
“Yeah. Oh crap, I think I left them at your house.”
“What? But you didn’t even go in.”
“I put them in your bag. You know, with the chocolates.” He bit his lip, but his expression seemed a little too forced, causing Francis to wonder.
“Alright, then we’ll head back to my place first.”
When they arrived at the steps leading up to a line of apartments, Francis looked around carefully. The walk there was fairly devoid of conversation and Arthur took extra care to look very worried about his keys. He pulled Arthur up the steps as the other man’s energy seemed to grow. He looked…excited.
Francis was tempted to confront him, but he figured whatever it was stood behind his door. Carefully, he used the hand that had just been holding Arthur’s to turn the door knob after he unlocked it. The house was quiet and dark, just as he left it. No wait, there was something off. Arthur closed the door behind them, causing him to jump a little. He carefully made his way around the corner and into the living room.
“Bon anniversaire!” a crowd of people shouted, including Arthur, as they jumped out from a variety of furniture. Lights were flicked on and confetti was blown. In front of the pack now stood Gilbert, Antonio, and Arthur as the group cheered, already cracking open bottles of wine and ale. Francis’s shocked face melted into an accusative smile and he chuckled, making his way over to the three masterminds of the party.
“And what might this be, mon amis?”
Gilbert laughed, stringing an arm around Francis’s shoulder. “Admit it, you didn’t suspect a thing. Unless,” he shifted his attention to Arthur’s, “someone spilled?”
Arthur crossed his arms and stood up as straight as he could manage. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad. Am I, Francis?”
“Well I suspected something, but not this.” He swallowed his pride to finish up. “Thank you, everyone.” His sight fell upon each person listening, but lingered on Arthur’s. Gilbert noticed, opening his mouth to say something, but Antonio quickly stepped in.
“Here,” he smiled, handing Francis a glass of wine, “drink up! It’s your birthday after all!” Francis gratefully took it and grinned. What a grand day it had been. What a grand and glorious day.
-----------
*Translations for Francis:
-Fais ce que tu veux? = What do you want?
-Mignon = Cute
-Viens, je t'emmène = Come along with me.
Title: Bon Anniversaire, Francis!
Author/Artist: rainy_fantasy
Character(s) or Pairing(s): France/England, Prussia, Spain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3, 439
Warnings: Fluff, some mild swearing, and suggestion.
Summary: On Francis's birthday, Arthur decides he needs help shopping for furniture of all things while Francis realizes he'd rather be more than just friends.
An elegant man set an empty glass next to a cool bottle of unopened wine on the table. Only the finest wine for such a grand occasion, of course. As he took a seat, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket to the tune of La Marseillaise.
“Bonjour.”
“Oi, Francis. Where are you?” It was Arthur, his sword enemy some thought, though they always managed to stay on relatively good terms. In fact, their constant bickering could almost be considered a sport.
His voice was muffled over the phone as the sounds of passing cars and nearby conversations made it hard to hear. Despite this, Arthur’s tone rang loud and clear somewhere in Francis. Lately their relationship changed, not by much, but enough to change the significance of even the smallest of actions and words. Then there was always that warm feeling that he always had when he was with the Englishmen…
“Hey, you there?” Arthur shouted even louder, snapping Francis out of his dream state.
“Oui, Anglais. Fais ce que tu veux?”
“Francis, you know I don’t understand a blood thing you just said.” Arthur’s words made him chuckle.
“What is it?”
“I uhh, I was wondering. Are you free? I need help shopping. You know, redecorating my apartment and such? You don’t have to, but you’re pretty good at these kinds of things…” His voice trailed off and Francis had to press the phone closer to his ear to catch it all.
“Okay, I’ll help. I don’t have any plans for the day yet,” considering it’s ten in the morning. He always woke up a little before then and it seemed Arthur was noticing. What was he planning? Well I guess I could hold off celebrating till the evening.
Arthur sighed in relief, distorting the sound in the receiver even more. “I’ll be there soon.” Francis snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. He sighed, looking at the tempting bottle in front of him. Later.
Placing it lovingly back into the fridge, he spent the remaining fifteen minutes cleaning up before the doorbell rang. The bell sent a strange feeling through his nerves and he even checked the mirror on his way to the door.
There was Arthur, fumbling with a small bag in his hands as he stared at the doormat. “Arthur.” That pulled the man’s sight up to meet his face.
They stared at one another for a minute, possibly two, before Arthur turned away and held up the bag. “Happy Birthday,” he mumbled to the wall. Francis raised his eyebrows in surprised, but still took the bag. Peering into it he found a small box of chocolates and he felt the left side of his mouth pull up.
“I…didn’t know what to get you.”
“Merci boucoup.” Arthur’s face flushed and Francis couldn’t help but grin.
“Did you get my card?”
“Oui. Thank you again.” A small smile grew on the dirty blonde’s face before he caught himself.
“We should, uh, get going. Yeah, don’t want to waste the day on your doorstep, do we?” Francis nodded and held up his hand for Arthur to wait as he dropped off his parcel next to his collection of colorful birthday cards on the hallway table.
When he came back, he found Arthur fidgeting again which brought a smile back onto Francis’s face. Arthur, noticing his return, led them down the steps heading into the street as Francis followed.
As they walked into town, Francis looked up into the sky while Arthur stared at the passing scenery. “So, what are we looking for?” Francis asked, flicking his blonde bangs out of his face.
“Hmm?” He was dazing again. “Oh umm, curtains. I need curtains, among other things…”
“Which room?”
“The tea room and the living room.”
“Okay, anything else?”
“A carpet, medium-sized, and then one couch.”
“What kind of couch?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a variety of couches, Anglais.”
“Well, I guess I would like one that looks like my old one.”
“I don’t know which one that is.”
“The big, brown one. It’s in the living room.”
“I haven’t been in your living room.”
“Yeah you have, about a half a year ago I do recall.”
“Well, I haven’t been in your living room for that long.
“Oh yeah, I invited you all to play cricket then…” One of the few invites to his house. It was either tea or cricket and it almost always involved a group. If it ever was just the two of them, it was either at Francis’s or the town. Somehow that bothered him.
“Anyway, I’ll just pick something once we get there.” Francis nodded and they returned to their awkward silence until they got to the nearest furniture store.
Arthur fussed over every detail and tossed off most of Francis’s suggestions in the process. Francis was left with the position of a wallflower, no matter how gorgeous he looked compared to the actual wallpaper.
While they browsed women automatically migrated to the room they were in, toeing their grumbling husbands along for the ride. The more courageous ones would ask for his opinions on a variety of things. When Francis showed a particular interest in something, they would buy the item in question in a heartbeat. All the while, Francis would glance out of the corner of his eye at the increasingly agitated Arthur. His devilish smile grew after every reaction.
After a fairly inquisitive brunette left carrying a particularly expensive lamp, which she almost certainly did not need, Francis turned to his companion again. This time he felt his eyes linger, trailing along his thin, hunched-over figure as the man inspected a leather couch. It wasn’t just a glance either. Francis examined every detail. From the way his white dress shirt peaked out from under his light jacket, to the creases in his dress pants and the way his hair stuck up and out at certain points, then tangled together in the most elegant of ways in the thick of it.
Curious, very curious, Francis told himself.
“Has your possy finally left?” Arthur spat.
“Quoi? You did not like their company?”
“Their company? They’re complete strangers! Besides, if you keep it up, I’d suspect that the employees would refuse to let you leave until you agree to work here!”
“Well maybe then you’ll listen to my suggestions.” Arthur began to sputter and after a few moments, gave up on the argument, storming off into another room. Francis just rolled his eyes and followed after him.
A couple hours plus a few stores later, Francis felt himself nodding off in an unoccupied chair. “Is that all for your, Sir?” he heard a sales clerk ask Arthur once he had finished ordering a few things.
“No, there’s one more thing, actually.” Francis could just see the blush grow on the Englishmen’s face as he caught that familiar tone in his voice. He focused all of his attention on the next few words. “Is this all of the, uh, bed linens you have?” The word sent a tingle up his spine and Francis realized that he just had to be awake for this.
“Oh, no Sir. We have some more fabrics in the back along with a large variety in our catalog, if you would like to take a look.”
“Yes, that would be great.” Francis peaked through half-open eyes just in time to catch Arthur’s quick, cautious glance back at him before he followed the woman. He stood up gracefully and tagged along, feeling rejuvenated and wide awake.
In an instant the Frenchman was at his side. Arthur sent him threatening glares while the clerk’s back was turned. Her eyebrows shot up once she turned around, carrying a thick book in her arms. “Oh, you must be…” she started, staring at Francis with a suggestive tone.
Before Francis even had a shot, Arthur quickly answered. “No! No, he’s just a friend.” It was almost too quick and desperate. The woman looked suspiciously at the two men who stood elbow-to-elbow. Francis chuckled and Arthur’s face turned redder than a ruby. Mignon.
“Well, here is our selection, Sir,” she spoke while placing the book on a table and pointing out the fabric rack next to them. “Any generic ideas?
It was Francis’s turn now, and he took it without a second thought. “Well, I think this blue is nice, non? It matches the curtains quite nicely, and it looks so elegant with your oak bed post.” The look on Arthur’s face? Priceless. The woman just coughed nervously while it seemed Arthur was trying his hardest not to punch the smirking man in front of him.
“D-don’t act like you’ve been in my room, Bastard,” he whispered to Francis with as much hatred as he could manage without alerting the woman. Francis just winked which only infuriated him even more.
“As for the type of cloth,” Francis added, “I would suggest this Egyptian cotton. It’s so smooth to the touch. Simply perfect for those sleepless nights.” His tongue articulated every work with surgical precision and he winked again, adding an extra shade of red to Arthur’s stunned face along with the woman’s now.
Once Arthur gained his composure again, his thick brows pulled into a glare and he handed him money out of his wallet. “Go. Ice cream. Now.” Francis grinned from ear-to-ear, taking the money and heading for the exit. His mission was a success and he chuckled at the thought of Arthur desperately attempting to work his way out of that one.
Francis patiently sat on the patio of the new ice cream shop only a block away from the furniture store. He fell into a daze as he stared over the railing and into the harbor. An interesting day it was turning out to be. He was feeling strange again. The chills, the adrenaline, the day dreams. It only started recently, but when? Was he sick?
“Hey, I told you to get us ice cream,” shouted a familiar voice.
“Oui, but it would have melted at the rate you pick out things.”
“Well then, what about yours? You could have eaten it.” Arthur was at the small table now and he took a seat across from him.
“I waited.” He watched the man flush at the seemingly insignificant gesture.
“Well I’m here now,” Arthur grumbled, turning to look at the large menu plastered on the outside of the windows. “What do you want?”
“Vanilla.” Arthur nodded, standing up and walking over to one of the windows to place their order. Francis watched him carefully, memorizing the rhythm at which he swung his arms and the way his lips moved as he spoke.
“What’s that look for?” Arthur asked, embarrassment spreading on his face as he handed Francis his ice cream.
“Hmm, what look?” he replied, taking the cone out of his hands. Their fingers brushed and a rush of feeling washed through him. They both blushed that time and concentrated on their ice cream.
Francis swapped his attention between his melting dessert to the pink tongue of Arthur’s that popped out every once in a while, licking his chocolate soft serve. “So, I take it you found everything you needed?”
“Yes, in fact I did, no thanks to you.”
“You ignored me, if you’ve forgotten, Anglais.”
He grunted and turned back to his diminishing treat. “So, what the bloody hell was that back there?”
“Back where?” Francis asked innocently.
“You know exactly where. The clerk could hardly speak after that!”
“She’s just shy, or maybe she’s sad that you are taken?”
“T-t-taken?! What are you going on about?” Francis only winked and Arthur bit a large chunk out of his ice cream furiously. A moment later he cringed in pain, spitting out ice cream and curses. He gained control again after a minute and continued, holding his head. “Well then can you explain to me how that was helping?”
“I was only providing my input.”
“Input, ha!” They finished off their cones, Francis calmly while Arthur cautiously. The two men stood up and deposited the rest.
“Viens, je t'emmène. Let’s take a walk.” Francis half suggested, half commanded. Arthur pouted and crossed his arms, but still ran after Francis’s already retreating figure.
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, just around the area, along the pier and by the water. That would be nice, non?” Nice especially for Arthur who absolutely adored the water. His heart warmed as Arthur’s eyes lit up in agreement.
As they walked Francis could feel a strange but euphoric atmosphere between them. No longer was it awkward and unsure or annoyed and frustrated. Just simply…peaceful.
“So…” Arthur spoke cautiously. “What were you try-…What was th-…What-What did you mean by…‘taken’?” Francis turned to Arthur, not able to hide his surprise from his face. “I mean…did you really mean-” Arthur immediately cut himself off and stared down at the brick sidewalk.
His words struck Francis just right to make him re-analyze…everything. His strange symptoms of the day, no, even before then… His heart beat faster and his lips felt dry. What was this feeling? He could hardly comprehend the strange butterfly sensation in his chest or the slight dizziness in his head, but when his bare arm brushed Arthur’s as he unconsciously moved closer, the spark from before rushed through him again.
His experience with these kinds of things…they didn’t even compare. They were always so forced and fake. Never once did he experience feelings at this amplitude. To think that he once wondered if that was how it would always be for him. He couldn’t let this go or fade, not after how right it felt just to be walking with him like this.
Their fingers brushed pass each other after the second swing of the arm, sending the spark through his system again. On the third pass, Francis hooked his fingers with Arthur’s, but after a moment that ended all too soon, Arthur broke away, pulling his hand nervously through his hair and turning to look up at the sky. Francis felt his vision shift away to the left and there was the temptation to let this foreign feeling pass.
No, he couldn’t. He wasn’t walking with this man out of boredom, he didn’t feel this way because he was sick, and he most certainly did not talk to this man because he was lonely. Francis felt that he could think of a thousand things that he loved and hated about Arthur which only gave him even more confidence to reach out once Arthur dropped his hand again.
The feeling that coursed through his veins as he tightly pressed their palms together and entangled their fingers was exhilarating. His heart beat increased, his senses were on full alert, and his body grew warm. This time Arthur relaxed into Francis’s firm grip and let his fingers rest on his hand. Neither of them seemed to want to ever let go.
“You know-” Francis croaked and paused to steady his voice, “lately I’ve wished our outings didn’t just consist of booze and curses.”
“You mean we should add ice cream into the mix?” Francis laughed, really laughed.
“Ha, maybe,” he grinned.
“Honestly though, I kind of wish we could have more days like this,” Arthur said with a smile that reached his eyes.
“If we do then you’ll be out of money and with a house full of furniture.”
Arthur laughed, elbowing Francis in the waist. “You know what I me-” His words were cut off as Francis took a hold of his other hand, drawing him close. He stared directly into those emerald eyes with as serious of an expression he could wear. The mint and chocolate scent that drifted from Arthur’s open mouth was intoxicating.
“Arthur, I want this, I want you more than anything else. Your words, your movements,” he laughed, amazed at what he was saying, “I just can’t get it out of my head. I know I have quite the…reputation, but I promise you that this is something different. Please, if you feel in anyway similar, tell me. I need to know.” The moments as they stood inches away lasted forever. His heart beat harder than ever before as he anxiously awaited Arthur’s answer.
That adorable flush of his returned in full force on his cheeks as he searched the blue eyes staring back at him. He seemed to be failing at finding the correct words and finally settled on something he could manage to say without losing his breath. “D-dammit, even I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you.” And that was it, that was all he needed to hear.
Without another word Francis closed the space between them, pressing their lips firmly and confidently together. It was better than he could ever imagine. All the many lips that touched his felt like sand against the skin compared to this. He made sure to memorize the feeling that rushed through him, the way Arthur moved his lips with his own, and the atmosphere around them. He didn’t want to forget it for a minute.
When they finally released, Francis felt a tingle around his mouth as he let himself gaze at the man in front of him. After a minute Arthur turned away, hiding his blush. “S-say something already,” he whispered nervously.
Francis just laughed, wrapping his right arm around him and kissing him on the ear. “But you look so cute.” Arthur’s blush grew twice as red and he attempted to laugh it off. “So, what’s next?”
As if a light bulb clicked on, Arthur shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He flipped it open, pressing a couple of buttons while carefully turning it far enough away for Francis not to see. “Actually, I should be heading home. I have a couple things I need to get done before tomorrow.”
Francis felt his cheer drop a couple of notches, but refused to let it get to him. “Alright, shall I walk you home then?”
“Al-alright.” There was that blush again. As they started walking, Arthur began to desperately search the rest his pockets. He had a frown grow on his face and Francis couldn’t help himself.
“What’s wrong?”
“My keys! Dammit, where did they go?”
“Your house keys?”
“Yeah. Oh crap, I think I left them at your house.”
“What? But you didn’t even go in.”
“I put them in your bag. You know, with the chocolates.” He bit his lip, but his expression seemed a little too forced, causing Francis to wonder.
“Alright, then we’ll head back to my place first.”
When they arrived at the steps leading up to a line of apartments, Francis looked around carefully. The walk there was fairly devoid of conversation and Arthur took extra care to look very worried about his keys. He pulled Arthur up the steps as the other man’s energy seemed to grow. He looked…excited.
Francis was tempted to confront him, but he figured whatever it was stood behind his door. Carefully, he used the hand that had just been holding Arthur’s to turn the door knob after he unlocked it. The house was quiet and dark, just as he left it. No wait, there was something off. Arthur closed the door behind them, causing him to jump a little. He carefully made his way around the corner and into the living room.
“Bon anniversaire!” a crowd of people shouted, including Arthur, as they jumped out from a variety of furniture. Lights were flicked on and confetti was blown. In front of the pack now stood Gilbert, Antonio, and Arthur as the group cheered, already cracking open bottles of wine and ale. Francis’s shocked face melted into an accusative smile and he chuckled, making his way over to the three masterminds of the party.
“And what might this be, mon amis?”
Gilbert laughed, stringing an arm around Francis’s shoulder. “Admit it, you didn’t suspect a thing. Unless,” he shifted his attention to Arthur’s, “someone spilled?”
Arthur crossed his arms and stood up as straight as he could manage. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad. Am I, Francis?”
“Well I suspected something, but not this.” He swallowed his pride to finish up. “Thank you, everyone.” His sight fell upon each person listening, but lingered on Arthur’s. Gilbert noticed, opening his mouth to say something, but Antonio quickly stepped in.
“Here,” he smiled, handing Francis a glass of wine, “drink up! It’s your birthday after all!” Francis gratefully took it and grinned. What a grand day it had been. What a grand and glorious day.
-----------
*Translations for Francis:
-Fais ce que tu veux? = What do you want?
-Mignon = Cute
-Viens, je t'emmène = Come along with me.