"Enemies"

Chapter 6 - The Drawing

I feel like I've made it quite clear by now that Francis Bonnefoy is not the biggest fan of meetings. He often spends them arguing with Arthur, or thinking about Arthur, or fantasising about Arthur, or doodling little drawings of Arthur in his notebook, or- I think that's enough. Point is – albeit he's not a fan of meetings, he is a fan of Arthur, so when Ludwig separated them at their second meeting in Bern (due to events of the first meeting), he was rather upset.

Francis and Arthur were relieved when they arrived first to their 9 o'clock meeting, yet found it peculiar that Ludwig and Basch, were nowhere to be found. This was very strange. Arthur crossed his arms as he pondered this mystery. On the other hand, Francis was still thinking about the previous day, as he looked up and down Arthur's body, noticing every detail, he reimagined the events in his head. He starred at Arthur's attire, his khaki brown trousers, the black leather belt which wrapped around him, his pale button-up covered by a knitted olive-green jumper, his blonde hair that was only slightly scruffy, his black leather shoes, his beige tie, everything. Francis loved all of it.

"Frog? Why are you looking at the like that?" Arthur had noticed Francis looking at him.

"N-no reason! Just thinking." Francis replied in a panic, not wanting to seem like any more of a total weirdo.

"Well, could you please look somewhere else while you think? You're freaking me out and it's rather distracting." Arthur asked in a harsh tone.

"What can I say, you are rather distracting, mon amour" Francis teased, Arthur did not laugh, he simply looked away.

Francis walked over to Arthur and grabbed his waist from behind, as a slight joke, however, his audience was not amused.

"G-get off of me you perverted filth!" Just as those words left Arthur's mouth, a third party came onto the scene. "What are you two doing!? This is highly unprofessional!" Ludwig yelled, clearly taken by surprise by what he was seeing. Francis immediately freed Arthur, who shifted the blame onto Francis. "Ludwig! That imbecile was being inappropriate toward me!".

"Angleterre, I don't think that either of us are in a position to talk about being inappropriate".

"Oh, you shut up, you git!"

"THAT IS ENOUGH OUT OF BOTH OF YOU" Ludwig snapped, "BOTH OF YOU, MEETING ROOM, NOW".

The two rivals followed the German into the meeting room, a feeling of regret rising in Francis' chest.

They were lectured by Ludwig about being "appropriate" and "professional", but for Francis, it was in one ear, and right out the other. He much preferred looking at Arthur and letting all of his anger and passionate emotion toward the man rise and fall in the pit of his stomach as he imagined different scenarios.

Finally, after what felt like forever, others began to enter the room, and sit down at the meeting table. Arthur and Francis were clearly separated, and rightfully so after the last meeting's events. Francis was instead sat next to a certain loud-mouthed Italian who would not be able to stay quiet if he noticed anything between Francis and Arthur.

I'm not sure if I mentioned this earlier, but Francis is not the most logical man in the world, so he failed to take Feliciano into account when he began doodling in his notes. He stupidly chose to draw Arthur, only painted in a rather graphic, and extremely inappropriate light. After a few minutes of drawing, it was quite clear to anyone what the sketch was of. Feliciano, being the snooper that he is, looked over at Francis' book and gasped loudly. Francis immediately slammed the cover of his book closed quickly before anyone else could see.

"Francie! What was that!?" The scarred Italian cried out in shock.

"It was nothing, you saw nothing!" Francis exclaimed, terrified of what would happen if anyone opened his book right now.

Ludwig looked at Francis, so did everyone else... except from Arthur. Arthur had seemed to have gone back to ignoring him entirely.

"Fine, I'll bite, what is wrong, Italy?" Ludwig asked, Francis could tell that Ludwig cared about Feliciano and he thought that their dynamic was cute.

"I saw a drawing that Francie was drawing, and it was scary and now I am traumatised, and I want pasta to help with my horrible trauma from seeing that horrible image!" Feliciano was crying, typical, thought Francis.

"Very well then, I must see this 'horrible' drawing for myself, hand it over, Francis." Ludwig commanded.

Merde.

Francis was practically already dead, and he knew that. He knew that there was no escape from this. Terrified of the consequences of his actions, he opened his notebook and turned the pages over to the grossly sexual depiction of Arthur, before handing the book over to Ludwig and awaiting his inevitable death.

Francis watched with fear in his eyes as Ludwig attempted to comprehend the drawing. Then suddenly Ludwig yelled- "WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS ARTHUR!?". Ludwig was disgusted.

Arthur looked at Francis in confusion, then turned to Ludwig, "What is it? What has he done?" he asked, confused, and concerned by this sudden drama and his own involvement in it. "Here you go, Britain." Ludwig handed over the book, too repulsed by the depiction to even look at Arthur.

"Oh my- OH MY DAYS!" Arthur cried out. "FRANCIS, WHAT THE FUCK!?" Arthur rarely swore, this was new. Arthur noticed just how many pages into this book he was, and he began to flip through the pages in disgust as he saw countless horrendously inappropriate versions of himself, some of which were more questionable than others.

The drawing that Feliciano had seen was of Arthur with his hands and legs chained loosely to a wall, only dressed in a crown, guzzling cum with a pained look on his face. That was one of the less questionable ones. They got very weird. Arthur jolted up. He was now standing, his face was bright red, and he was lost for words. Francis was sitting in his chair, his face buried in his palms, soaking in his own shame.

Ludwig spoke, "Francis, tell me why on earth would you draw that?"

"I... it was only one drawing just this once!" Francis lied.

"You lying bastard, there's hundreds of these in here! And they go back years! What is wrong with you!?" Arthur's voice shook along with his body. He was clearly disturbed by these drawings, and who wouldn't be? Arthur held up the book, showing off another one of its more questionable illustrations.

"Stop it! Give me back my book!" Francis demanded.

"No! I won't give it back! Why do you even want it back? Just to draw more disturbing pornography of me?" Arthur questioned, still shaking from horror.

"Give it back!" Francis repeated himself again, although it didn't help.

"I'm leaving." Arthur stated and made his exit, the notebook still in hand. Francis followed him out into the corridor, where he grabbed his arm and held him back from walking any further.

"Unhand me!" commanded Arthur.

"Not until you give me back my book!" Francis protested.

"Not a chance!"

"Give it back!"

"No!"

"Fine! Then you leave me with no choice!"

"No choice but what?"

"I will have to charm my book out of your hands."

"Ha! Good luck, frog, I'm not giving up this book!"

"We will see about that."