You Are My Light Part II

232 - Valentines *Modern*

Side Note - In the same AU as the one where Francis and Bash get drunk together

Let's establish one thing here, Francis isn't exactly the most romantic boyfriend in the world. He's the kind of guy (well, boy. Yeah, boy is more appropriate, he's like three at the best of times, ladies and gentlemen and any other pronouns that you choose) who would prefer to vegetate on the couch on the fourteenth of February with a couple pizzas and overpriced sides in little paper boxes watching a boatload of Harry Potter or some d-list romantic movie that's so bad it's laughable, with more cheese than what was on the food in front of them. 

Well, Mary can't exactly blame him for that. Valentines has always been kind of gross to her anyway. Who made it a day to say to somebody that you love them? Can't you say it any other day? No, it's all Americanised crap that makes wine and chocolate more expensive just cause it's in the shape of a heart or something like that. It's all so mushy to the point of making Mary sick, yes, she loves her boyfriend, but does she have to fork out for some overpriced bit of beef and chips and wine just because someone decided that you needed to put on a little bit more fat post Christmas gorging? She'd rather spend Valentines sitting on the couch (well, laying on Francis, but that counts, right?) watching Harry whizz around on his broom and watch little Emma Watson get fed all the good lines from the books, eating too much pizza and ice cream and then falling asleep in Francis' arms over receiving a little tiny box of chocolates and imitation jewellery any day of the week, thank you very much.

Mary gets bored quickly listening to Kenna and Lola fritter on excitedly about all the things Sebastian and Julien (or, is she on Remy? Mary can never tell, she plays the twins that well, and, well, they're twins) are taking them to do tonight. She smirks to herself, sending a prayer to the men, knowing the pain and repulsion that they're going to endure before getting themselves some in the bedroom. Bash is like Francis in the way he doesn't care for Americanised crap that's just a way to bulk up prices for stuff, but Kenna's well, Kenna. As much as Mary loves her cousin, she's so ridiculously vain and materialistic that she knows Bash must love her enough to suit up -literally, she thinks with a lazy grin- and grin and bare all the mushy nonsense for her. She finds herself growing excited for a pizza feast with her beau when Lola natters on about what hair she's going to do, on what kind of lace she's going to wear. Mary would gladly take sweatpants and cheap alcohol and pizza and movies over dress up and fancy dinner anyway. You get more for your money, and you end up in bed together by the end of it anyway, so what's the deal?

Aylee nudges her with a grin, and Mary jerks back into reality, stifling a yawn and smiling at Lola as she looks at her. Whatever the brunette wants to find, she does, because she smiles at her again, before beginning to natter on about nails with Kenna. She chuckles as Kenna wants to make hers as sharp as possible, to make damn sure she leaves a mark on her handsome boyfriend by the end of the night. Greer sends her a knowing look, for she and Leith aren't doing anything that big, either. She and Leith are going to make dinner and then giggle around making cakes and biscuits and other little treats, then they're going to watch whatever's on TV, and she knows that Greer's looking foreword to that much more than she would be to spend fifty quid on a bit of beef and potato.

All too late, it's time to leave Aylee's place and go back home to get ready for valentines. The little madam's are going back to Kenna's to get dolled up, while Mary and Greer hit Tesco, filling up on booze and snacks that Mary refuses to pay extra for (six quid for a couple of onion rings?! When they could get so much more in the frozen isle for not even one fifty, psshh) and then they head home, giggling with each other about the vanity of their friends and their own excitement for quiet nights in with their beaus.

Mary drops off her pretty blonde friend, before driving herself home to her pretty home to her pretty boyfriend. She opens the door, loaded down with bags, instantly giggling at the sight of her pretty blonde boyfriend standing there with a goofy grin on his face, and a single rose in his hand. She swoons at him, all but jumping into his arms, resisting the urge to just pull him inside their bedroom there and then.

But they settle themselves in the living room, the oven on, cooking breaded onion rings and cute little desserts Mary couldn't resist buying, bottles surrounding them, Francis staring intently on his phone as he orders three pizzas and other stuff they probably won't be able to eat before it gets cold. As soon as the order is placed, Harry Potter goes into the DVD player (Blu ray player, thank you, Francis) and the drinks are popped open. Mary falls into the magic of the wizard world, gasping with the joy of a child as they figure out Snape really wasn't the villain after all, but it's probably more the alcohol that's making her so excited. Inebriated indeed larger after two and a half pizzas disappear before the basilisk does his thing, and the floor becomes littered with empty paper boxes and empty bottles, and they drunkenly giggle with each other, debating if the basilisk deserves love or not.

"Shh!" Francis sushes her, pressing a finger into her lips.

"No, you shh!" she resorts, pressing her own finger into his face.

"Shh!"

"You, shh!"

"Look!" Francis gasps, pointing at another box, lifting another bottle of bacardi to his lips. "Mac and cheese! Get it! Get it! Get it! Get it! I love mac an cheese!" he's delighted, and adorably so, Mary just wants to kiss him, but she obeys instead, crawling over towards the blue and red box and pressing it into his hands, smiling brightly at him. "Gee, thanks, Mary!" he giggles. It seems he's trying to kiss her, but he misses, and gets her chin instead. Mary doesn't seem to mind, because she cooes at him, stroking his hair like he's a dog, before hopping back up into his lap. She sits there happily, not even minding as Francis eats the cheesy pasta with his hands. Mary smiles at the screen, swapping from sipping her sex on the beach and munching on another slice of pizza as her boyfriend hums contentedly, throwing the empty box away from him.

"That was good." he informs her.

"I want some!"

"It's there," he points to where the box is not.

"Where?"

"There!" he yelps.

"I'll get it later," she complies, swallowing down the crust of her italian food and turning in his lap. "hey, Francis?"

"Hmm?" he looks up at her like she's a goddess, and Mary smiles at him brightly.

"We gonna have valentine's day sex after this?"

"Of course," he sounds offended that she even asks, and presses a kiss to her chest to prove his point. She giggles at him, stroking his hair again, but they fall back against the couch, so drunk that even that's funny. Mary bursts into laughter, and so does he, but they quickly get comfy like this, Francis resting his head on her stomach and chest, Mary laying underneath him on the squishy couch.

Francis gets his hand on one of the boxes of chocolates Mary had bought that afternoon, making a happy noise when one he had blindly smashed into his mouth tastes good. But the gentleman inside of him is offended that he's had a chocolate and Mary hasn't, so he blindly grasps for another one, and he pulls out a white chocolate truffle. He smashes it against his pretty ravenette girlfriends' mouth, more getting her chin than anything else, but he knows she's had it when she makes a happy buzzing sound. He giggles, proud of his accomplishment, and continues feeding them like that, until the hours tick past and their bodies begin to relax. The combination of booze and junk food getting to them both.

Alas, Mary and Francis aren't destined for Valentine's day sex, because when Sebastian comes home, Dumbledore's just died and the sun is out (they're long ass movies, in case you didn't know) and he smiles at the figures of his brother and his girlfriend, laying together on the couch, contentedly sleeping against each other. He takes the coverlet and covers up his brother's back, and closes the door quietly, grinning to himself.

See, Mary? Valentine's day isn't so bad.

Meant to post this on valentine's, but got caught up in other stuff instead. Sorry bout that!