Fire [FrUk Fanfiction]

Blaze

Hey guys, getting better day by day. I can't leave you awesome people hanging with this story, so I'm really trying to get back into it. Depression changes people, ya know? And...if anyone EVER wants to talk about anything, depression, suicide attempts, family problems, anything at all, please, please chat me. I love talking to you people. Don't hesitate to message me. Enjoy, guys, and smash that vote button :) and don't forget, I'm here for you just like you were all here for me. Thanks.
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Francis had left as abruptly as he'd arrived, but not without placing a gentle kiss on Arthur's lips. Arthur was frozen in his living room. Honestly, what had just happened? A student broke into his home, waited for him to arrive, kissed him, then left. It was all too confusing; so confusing, in fact, Arthur decided to have some liquor. He knew it was a moment of weakness, but after a few shots, his reflection had challenged him to a drinking contest. Two bottles later, he was flustered, dizzy, and throwing up into his toilet. His reflection was right; he could barely hold his liquor.
Collapsing in bed, he still felt Francis' soft, tempting lips, even after all the scotch and whiskey. They'd tasted so sweet, Arthur wished he'd savored it longer. Closing his eyes, he muttered Francis Bonnefoy's name before falling into a deep, hangover - induced sleep.
The next morning, Arthur awoke with a pounding headache. Sunlight poured into his room, much to his dismay. Oh shit, he had school today....
Something by his window caught his eye. A little note, taped onto the glass. Rolling out of bed and thumping onto the floor with a grunt, Arthur grabbed the note and ripped it off the window. Letting his eyes adjust, through his blurry vision he could make out,
"Bonjour, Arthur. I know what happened to you last night, mon amour. A little tipsy this morning, non? I'll explain your absence to the professors and bring home your homework. Have a lovely day~
-Francis."

Arthur was up in a second, fully awake. "WHAT THE....oh, his signature is so nice, it'd be a shame not to keep this." He taped it to the fridge, then got some cold water and drank the entire thing. He didn't know much about what happened after that, all he could remember was crawling to the couch, hugging a pillow, and falling asleep. He awoke to a pleasant...pleasant...?! No, disturbing....disturbingly pleasant...surprise. Francis was crouched beside him, pressing a cold compress to his forehead.
"Are you doing a little better, mon amour?"
"How the hell do you keep getting in here? And what does mon amour mean?!" Francis just chuckled.
"I have my ways, Arthur Kirkland. You're awfully interesting. Are you an alcoholic?"
"Wha--well that was sudden. No, of course not, you French frog."
"Would you like to skip class for a picnic tomorrow?"
"SKIP CLASS? FOR LUNCH? ON THE GROUND?!"
"Oui."
"Well.....it's better than facing the bloody idiots at school. I suppose so...pick me up at 11 tomorrow morning. And don't be late. Or early. And don't bring any of your gross French food. It's just...gross. How you guys eat frog legs and snails."
"Will do. See you tomorrow then, little Arthur." And with that, Francis was out the window and gone.
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The next morning, at 10:55am, Arthur had dressed up in a men's cardigan and collared shirt, along with dress pants and shoes. Not the most stylish, he knew. But it's not like he was getting dressed up for a frog, he told himself, while he spent 30 minutes on his hair.
Francis knocked on his door five minutes later, wearing a very fashionable outfit. "We aren't driving?" Arthur asked, and Francis just laughed.
"Of course not! I'm walking!" Before Arthur could ask what Francis meant by that, Francis picked him up bridal style, with ease, and began walking down the sidewalk like it was an everyday stroll. Arthur was appalled...but didn't fight it.
When they arrived at a nice grassy clearing, Francis dropped a picnic basket on the ground.
"I assume you read up on British food and cooked for both of us," Arthur said. Francis smiled warmly, and opened the picnic basket to reveal...frog legs and escargots. Arthur curled his nose. "What is this shit?!"
"My food." Francis said, shoving an escargot in Arthur's mouth before he could protest. Arthur wanted to spit it out...but it was delicious. His eyes widened as he swallowed it. "Delicious, non?"

He scowled at Francis, hating to admit he was wrong and Francis was right.

"Stupid frog," he muttered, hesitantly picking up a frog leg.
"I brought wine." Francis said, pulling two crystal glasses out of the basket and pouring wine into both of them. "I suggest you drink carefully, though, as you're no prince when drunk." Arthur gasped, and gave Francis a swift hit on the back. He choked on his baguette, then began to laugh. To his surprise, Arthur found himself chuckling at the little whimper Francis had given when he'd been hit.
A glass of wine and quite a few stereotypical jokes later, Arthur was sitting up against a tree, staring at the setting sun. Francis was packing up the picnic, still smiling. "You're so happy, frenchie. Why are you always smiling?"
"Because I've finally found something to live my young life for."
"And that is?"
"You wouldn't understand, mon amour."
"You still haven't told me what that means yet. Your accent is so annoying."
"I know. As is yours, 11th doctor."
"Stop calling me that! Just because I have a stack of tardis fake tattoos in my room doesn't mean I'm obsessed with Doctor Who."
"Right, of course." Francis sat beside Arthur. "You know, I'm surprised you haven't mentioned our little lip lock the other night."
"That's because I couldn't find anything about it to complain about." Then Arthur gasped. "Can we pretend that wasn't out loud?"
Francis chuckled again. "Would you like to do it again?" Arthur didn't respond. He just looked the other direction. Francis smiled happily, and Arthur could sense it. He glanced over at Francis, and their eyes met. Arthur couldn't look away. He leaned in close, taking his time to close his eyes. He could feel Francis's soft breath against his lips, and then they touched. Arthur melted into the kiss, letting Francis take him to a better place.