La Saint Valentin

Get Ugly

    *watch the video first if you wanna be able to visualize Franny's moves*

~February 13th 7:17 a.m.~

What kind of stupid ass holiday was Valentine's Day? Arthur couldn't fathom it. It was annoying and superficial and he had never taken part once in all his life- before now. "Just get him flowers and chocolate." Mint Bunny sighed, bored of dipsy-doodling about the feet of the mortals crowding the sweets shop. Arthur gave him a glower and then retracted his fingers from the garish heart-shaped box of candy in much the same way he had just done with a bottle of wine in the shop next door.
    Though they'd been 'together' for over a year it was still hard for him to openly show his affection. Centuries of hiding his heart had really done a number on his psyche. It almost burnt to stand amongst all these romantic twats as they plucked nightmarishly large plush animals from the shelves and planned haphazard sexual escapades in public. If Francis ever pulled a pair of fuzzy hand-cuffs out he'd strangle him with them. But then, the Frenchman hated bondage of any sort, so he was safe from that at least.
    "You could get a tattoo with his name on it." One of his fluttering green pixies giggled, pinching his rear. "Right here!"
    He blushed deep crimson and had to leave the shop immediately. "Go away." He hissed at his imaginary nuisances, waving an annoyed hand through the air.
    "Why are you making this so difficult?" M.B. inquired as the pixies all scattered. "I'm sure he'll be fine with whatever. He can't be expecting much from you anyway."
    Frowning, he continued down the pavement. True. Francis knew he was not at all a romantic. At least- not in this manner. All this gaudy pink and lace and glitter was horrendous and though those were things Francis' seemed to love, it didn't feel right just buying anything of that ilk.
   He was about to go into a sulk when he receive his usual good morning text.
Bonjour mon petite lapin. 😘
He paused where he was and grinned, but responded otherwise. About time you woke up, lazy frog.
The next text held an attachment he didn't dare download in public. It would either be another picture of the stray kitten the Frenchmen had adopted or a naked selfie. There was no way to know and he couldn't afford to risk it.

~9:03 a.m.~

It'd been the kitten. The little thing had been curled up on Francis' bare chest, a small white ball of unending cuteness. However the sleepy half-smile on her owner's face had put the feline to shame. That tousled blond bed-head and unruly stubble really suited the older nation and he'd never do more than set the picture as his lockscreen in way of admitting it. Which may have been a mistake as it was frustratingly distracting.
    "Merci." He muttered, accepting the takeaway breakfast from the woman behind the shops counter, balancing the drink carrier between the crook of his arm and wrist. "Bonne Journée."
    He'd decided to surprise Francis with breakfast, though just how surprised the man would actually be he wasn't sure. This has become a bit of a habit nowadays. Even though they'd finally expressed their feelings and reconciled the past, it hadn't completely cured Francis of his depression. Arthur understood wounded mentality better than most and took no offense to his lover's occasional sadness. Nothing would ever completely chase away the phantoms and that was okay, as long as someone was there to wave a torch at them. So, often times he would disguise these visits as acts of  whimsy when truly they were made to assure himself that the other man was eating properly.
    Luckily, sadness was not on the agenda for today, if the music playing within Francis' apartment was any indication. There was a lot of screeching and nonsense lyric, but it had even his feet wanting to dance. He did not allow this, of course. Trying the knob, he found the door unlocked and opened it only to find the couch had been moved,  hindering the entryway. Setting the food in the hall he slithered through the space he was given and paused half in and half out, a wash of adoration and amusement drowning any of his previous irritation.
     Francis was in the middle of his living room dancing along to some sort of funky workout playing on the telly. The Frenchman, as Alfred would say, 'was killing it', and. Arthur had to be impressed. The skillful and rhythmic hip gyrations and pelvic thrusts were not to be dismissed. He watched unabashed, squashed in between door and frame, until the song ended and Francis wipes sweat from his brow and reached for a bottle of water on the crooked coffee table. He was spotted then.
"Angleterre!" The man cried on a panted breath, the sound of which made Arthur flush. "How long 'ave you been zere?"
"Since the first 'diddly-diddly." He replied, squeezing the rest of the way into the room and reaching back to snag the takeaway. "I brought breakfast. What in the bloody hell was that any way?"
      "Zat was Zumba. It helps me keep my sexy body." Here Francis paused on his way toward the kitchen to run the heels of his palms down his sides while wiggling his hips. "You like?"
Yes. Francis lifted the hem of his tee shirt and mopped his face with it, revealing pale, glistening abs beneath. He liked it a lot, especially now that he was allowed to. "I'm sure there are less absurd ways to stay fit." He mumbled, shoving the end of the couch out of his way and passing the sweaty Frenchman by.
"Onhonhon~ I zee zat blush, angleterre."
     "Back off, frog. I only came to have breakfast." He  hissed, putting the kettle on and rummaging through the cabinets. "Where're all my bloody teacups?"
     "Above you." The older nation replied with a sly smile, gesturing to the cabinet over the oven, clearly out of his reach.
      He glowered at his partner menacingly, but Francis just laughed. "I 'ad to. Tony and Gil found zem last time zey were here and we 'ad to play tea party. I thought you'd prefer I put them somewhere more discreet."
      The thought of the trio bad touching his teacups definitely made the idea of putting them up tolerable. However, now he'd have to ask for help to fetch them. To avoid this, he simply set about spreading breakfast onto the table while the water heated.

***
I'll try to have all of this up by the end of the day, but no promises. I have Valentine's Day things to do. 🙄