FrUk Halloween Week

I Put a Spell On You

The Frenchman grumbled something under his breath as he poured the tea Arthur had prepared for him down the sink when he wasn't looking. Replacing it with wine, Francis sipped his drink quietly while Arthur muttered incomprehensible words from his "magic book". Francis rolled his eyes and put down the teacup, which was no longer filled with wine nor tea.

He had told his lover at least a thousand times this so-called magic wasn't allowed in their flat. If Arthur wanted to practice that, he'd have to go to Vladimir's or Lukas'.

Francis knocked on the door, which was ajar, and sighed. "Could you stop?" He felt like he was practically begging Arthur to by now. The light flicked on, causing Arthur to groan trying to adjust his eyes to the light. "What'd you do that for?" he yelled.
"Your demonic possessing merde is getting old."

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge on his nose. "It's not demon possessing shit," he muttered. "It's spellcasting. Big difference."
"Whatever it is, it needs to stop." Francis leaned onto the doorframe.
"You're really bloody obnoxious sometimes, Francis." Arthur mumbled, standing up, reaching for his wand on the floor and hiding it behind his back.
"Are you finally willing to cooperate, cher?" Francis looked up, reaching his hand out to hold Arthur's.

Instead of replying in any known language, Arthur started with that incomprehensible demonic possessing merde language again, bringing out the wand that sparked green glittery magic.

Green light illuminated the now dark room, almost blinding Francis as he fell backwards and tumbled onto the floor. After a minute or so, the magic cleared up and Francis' eyes fluttered open as he sat up and groaned. He ran his hand through his hair and blinked.

"Francis! Are you alright?!" Arthur ran over to him, concerned.
"C'est quoi ce bordel do you want?!" Francis spat, scooting away before Arthur could put his grimy hands on his knee. "Don't touch me, you débile!"
Arthur retracted his hand and bit his lip. "Francis?"
"Casse-toi!"
"Francis!"
Francis huffed. The spell had worked, but not in the instance Arthur had wanted it to. He'd planned to make him a little less of a nuisance, and not as whiny. But this was even more whiny, and more of a nuisance, not to mention rude.
Instead of doing the smart thing and turning him back, Arthur stood up. "Hmph. Come back when you're ready to be a mature adult about this." He went back into his room and closed the door behind him.

Francis stood up and dusted off his clothes, rather uncomfortable with the situation. He needed a smoke, maybe a drink and a nap. He refused to sleep with Arthur, so the stupid, probably dirty couch would have to do. Quietly, he sneaked around the house looking for a box of cigarettes. Of course, there were none, because Arthur would be a pissbaby about him smoking. Which meant he had to go to the corner shop.

Looking both directions to make sure there were no signs of Arthur, he took the car keys and ran. Before you could say mange de la merde, Francis had escaped the apartment.
Francis sat on a bench to take a smoke break. Exhaling smoke, he smiled. It'd been a long time since he'd had a nice smoke break, especially without Arthur complaining about it. The "You're going to get lung or throat cancer!" and "That's extremely unhealthy." and the most dreaded, "Don't blame me when one of us dies from the smoke you're exhaling!". Not that it mattered, anyway. Arthur was just another annoying human being in Francis' annoying world. He didn't need him, he didn't need anybody. So who cared if he smoked a cigarette every "once in a while"?
He dumped his cigarette in the ash tray and stood up. It was getting chilly, but no need to go back now.

So he headed for the nearest pub, ordered a wine and stayed there until closing hours. He was hesitant to leave, especially since he was drunk, but still managed to call a taxi to take him to the flat. When he got back, he groaned and crashed onto the couch, turning on some shitty British TV show on a channel Arthur was watching earlier. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten dinner because frankly anything that's not French tastes like shit to Francis. So he toughed it out.
Not too long after the show ended, Arthur walked in.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?!"
Francis rolled his eyes. "Anywhere but here."
The pack of cigarettes lay on the coffee table, along with a bottle of wine Francis found in the fridge.
"And you're smoking, too?! Francis, we've talked about this!" Arthur groaned and rubbed his temples. "You're giving me a headache," he complained.
Francis smirked.
"I-- I've had enough with your blooming attitude." Arthur tried not to yell. Francis just yawned. Arthur's arguing tactics were boring and starting to get old. He could take his nap right about now.
"I shouldn't have ever put that bloody spell on you." Arthur muttered and stormed back into his room, slamming the door.
This caught Francis' attention, who finally sat up. Spell? What spell? Was Arthur trying to mess with his brain, trying to make him seem like the idiot once again? Whatever it was, he wouldn't let Arthur fool him into any "spell". Francis was way too smart to let him do such a thing.
Even though he thought these things, his eyes began to close and he felt sleepy. He yawned, not a "this sucks and I'm bored" yawn, a "I'm actually tired and need to sleep now" yawn.
He dozed off but quickly awoke to chanting a few minutes later.
"Arthur!" he yelled, dazed and confused. "C'est quoi ce bordel?!"
Francis quickly tried to stand up to defend himself, but the magic knocked him back onto the couch, nearly blinding him once again.
Arthur crept closer to him, trying to make sure that this was the real Francis and not some other decoy personality.
"Mon dieu..." he mumbled, attempting adjusting his eyes to the light. He yawned and stretched.
"Francis!" Arthur suddenly hugged his French boyfriend, surprising him. Francis returned the hug a few seconds later.
"What's with the sudden affection, cher?"
"....Long story. I'll tell you later. But nevermind that. Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
Francis chuckled. "Not anytime lately, non."
"Well, I do. And I wouldn't replace you for the world. Okay?"
"Oui, oui. What's the--"
Before Francis could finish, Arthur kissed him. His eyes widened-- it was usually him who did the surprise kissing. But instead of questioning it, he kissed him back. The questions and explanations could wait. Arthur was just glad to have his Francis back.