FrUk Oneshots (Requests Open)

Skeletons in My Closet

Cleaning day is something that comes around a few times every three years or so.

Arthur for back into his closet and looks back on memories and finds space for the older stuff, and gets rid of maybe a thing or two. It normally takes a few days.

This to it should be faster because this is not a cleaning day. Today Arthur is just looking through racks of clothing seeing if he should give any of it to a museum.

Currently he's gotten rid of two suits from the 1920s that he wore in America when the boy wanted to go rob a bank...The other is a coal miner outfit, he didn't always have a glamorous time in the 1920s..
He sighs and moves to the 1800s knowing that he doesn't want to go through anything else from the 1900s.

He coughs a bit from the dust as he moves back there and finds, amd finds something that still looks new as the day he bought it. His pirate clothes, all together and his boots would be.. he turns around towards the wall, where a few stacks of shoes are and sees them. They aren't his first pair, those got destroyed ages ago..

He sees them and remembers the heads he crushed under them, all ages, men, women, children. He remembers he did he's of men raping, that's something he couldn't do, he did piliage and plunder though. His heart at that time though always belonged amd still does to the French arse.

He remembers the games they played, how many useless nights they had in bed together, it was supposed to mean nothing but the way he was kissed and the way he could make the man under him moan like a virgin was something he could never get out of his head.

His heart aches and he wants to be next to that male right now. Arthur needs Francis to be there to help him get distracted so that he doesn't slip. He can already feel that other side of himself scratching his swords and daggers up against the wall Arthur had out up years ago.

Arthur grabs his head with one hand and tries to take deep breaths and moves away from the coat, from the thoughts of Francis, of having a family, a large one with his colonies and-.

I haven't been out in ages. So I stretch a bit. Good Lord it feels great to be out. I look down and see what in the seven hells is on me? I look up on a hanger and see my clothes.

I put them on feeling so familiar in them. This is right, definitely right.
I leave my other clothes on the floor and go out into the living room, there's a small white box on the table and it light up and starts to ring. I jump back reaching for my sword but finding it not there. It's above the fucking fire place.

"Swipe to answer" it says.
I swipe it.
"Oh Angelterre." A familiar voice says from the box.

My eye go wide and a look of horror crosses I've my face.
"Francis?"
"Oui."
"What the fuck are you doing in the box?" I say holding the box to my ear to here him better.

He chuckles.
"Don't tell me you started drinking without me."
"Whatever I drink is shit to your fucked up taste buds anyway." I groan out.

"Only because it's shit."
"So is your hair." I smirk into the phone.
"If I started drinking without you better hurry over and help me finish stuff off."
"Your cruel Mon Ami."
"Depriving you of your addiction is nothing but kindness."
"I'll be over in an hour sk don't drink it all alcoholic."

"Then hurry up prick." He ends the call.
I'm smiling like a damned idiot. He's coming over here? To this place? Why? For me? To drink with me?

I run to the kitchen and grab every bit of liqour I can find, setting it up around the kitchen island amd living room.

Within the hour as he promised, the door bell rings. I rush to the door and open it.
"Hello love." I say, he helps seeing me like I'm the plague, now I'm pulling he male inside, he's brought a great deal of wine with him.

"Arthur?" He says confused "Where did you find those old things?"
I notice he's wearing clean slacks and a lavender button down shirt.
He's left the first two buttons open showing his chest.

"You look amazing." I say looking him up and down.
"I know." He says playing it off he grabs some glasses from a cubboard and goes to the living room with the two wine bottles.

We sit on the couches and start drinking.
"Francis." I say after my second glass "You know I'm not the England from this time right?"

He nods "I know but you don't have your strength from back then. So I'm not worried."

"You're not afraid of me?"

"Never have been," he says take another sip of wine "Though it is hard to with your caterpillar brows."

"Frog." I grin at him. I walk over to him and bend down so our noses are almost touching "If you aren't scared, then don't be scared of this." Then I kiss him.

At first he freezes up but then kisses back. I'm kissing him slowly and softly putting in what all of those nights meant to me, what they still mean to me. I hope to God that he understands those emotions that he's getting them.

We pull away and I look at him with tipsy vision.
"I like you. I always have, I've loved you since we screwed each other on that boat cell and talked about our families because we were fucking shit faced."

He's speechless for a moment, he's awake again. He's clawing to get back. I don't fight it. I let him.

I open my eyes and find a flushed Francis with his face nearly inches from mine.
"No games Arthur." He breathes out with determined blue eyes.
"Do you love me?"

My face goes red and I nod. So he took over.
"I love you."

He starts laughing. "Good." He says, and he keeps laughing. "Amazing, great." He says in his language.
Then he grabs the back of my head and we meet in between and kiss.

He's pulls me down on the couch and we continue it.

When it's done we're on the couch entangled with each other. He's holding my hand and rubbing it gently. I want to stay like this. Forever. Just in this moment.

"I'm yours now." He breathes out. "So am I." I reply kissing his cheek. He falls asleep next to me, one of skeletons in my closet covering him, and for once I'm happy it did.