A Prince's Love

First Time

Arthur snored as he slept soundly for the first time in days. Raising twins, even with the help of Francis, was no easy task. He nearly cried when the children came home from school yelling about their day. Also, he had been banned from the kitchen after starting a fire while Francis napped. He was suddenly awoken by Francis nudging his shoulder gently. They shared a groan sliding out of bed to tend to their morning duties. Arthur went to the twins' room knocking softly on the door. He stepped inside after getting no reply from either twin. He approached the small beds lifting Alfred out of his first.
"It's time to wake up, dear. Papa is cooking breakfast for us." He rocked Alfred as he walked around the room to slowly stir him. His efforts worked when Alfred opened his eyes yawning softly. He set the boy down moving over to Matthew's bed. He did the same to the quiet child earning a similar response. The two got themselves dressed while Arthur went to fold the laundry. He could smell the food being cooked from the living room. Once it was ready, Arthur put down the last shirt to stand up. Alfred and Matthew joined minutes later taking their usual seats. Francis brushed his messy yet cute hair out of his face to smile at his family. The four ate in peace, except for Alfred trying to have a sausage fight with Matthew. They cleaned the dishes afterwards then busied themselves with other things. Arthur sat on the couch reading his book to pass time. Francis joined him resting his head in the blond's lap. He had just finished cleaning the windows and wanted to relax. He toyed with the fabric of Arthur's sleepwear watching the twins get their lunches ready. Arthur leaned back on the couch as he ran his stubby fingers through Francis' hair. The strands of gold delicately wrapped around his fingers before gracefully falling down onto Francis' shoulder. Arthur subconsciously raised his hand to feel his hair. Short, coarse strands with the occasional knot here and there. It made a pout appear with a tiny spike of jealousy hitting him. Francis quietly hummed until the twins came back ready for school. The parents got up to get dressed as well not wanting to be publicly humiliated.

"Arthur, can you help me?" The Englishman pulled his pants up before turning to Francis. The blond was holding out the strings for a corset needing to be tightened and tied. Arthur's brow raised in confusion as he stared at Francis standing in front of a mirror. Arthur was confused as he grabbed the cords tugging them lightly. He feared he would suffocate Francis if he pulled too harshly. He tied a small bow with the strings smiling at his handiwork. Francis sighed glaring at Arthur, for he saw no difference in his size.
"Pull harder. Put your foot to my back if you must." Arthur undid the bow giving the ropes a harsher tug, yet Francis kept insisting it wasn't enough. He groaned putting his foot in the center of Francis' back like he had been instructed. He wrapped the strings around his hands yanking them back. Francis gasped feeling his sides contour with the shape of the corset. Arthur tied a tight bow before standing back to secretly admire Francis. Although, the Frenchman could see the staring in the reflective glass. He put his white tunic on giving Arthur a kiss in appreciation. He slipped his blue and gold coat on adoring his own reflection. Arthur came up from behind to kiss Francis on the cheek earning a soft smile.
"You really are a woman." Arthur bluntly stated as his hands rested above Francis' hips. There was a trend for men to wear corsets, but that stopped before Arthur had been born. He never met a man that wore a corset, but he never checked or even asked. Francis grabbed Arthur's hand pressing it to his flat chest as a joke. The blond rolled his eyes pulling his hand away from Francis.
"It's common in France. Besides, I look très mignon. Now, get dressed in those God forsaken clothes of yours." Arthur felt his jaw drop in offense from Francis' words. He looked down at the olive colored coat with brown pants. He then hit Francis' hair making a few strands go out of place. Francis gripped Arthur's tan shirt wrinkling the fabric. The two continued their childish game of hitting to make the other look disheveled. Arthur untucked Francis' shirt, and in retaliation, Francis stepped on Arthur's foot. The two groaned quickly fixing themselves before stepping out the room. They refused to acknowledge each other as they got in the stagecoach with the twins. They dropped them off in front of the school giving each child a hug trying to do better than the other parent. Once they pulled away, Arthur made sure to get on the stagecoach first. He did this by nudging Francis out of his way. The Frenchman groaned crossing his arms in annoyance.
"Brat." Francis grumbled climbing onto the stagecoach. Arthur mocked him by sticking his tongue out before they drove home. It was a normal ride until they were stopped by a policeman. He spoke too quickly for Arthur to translate by himself. He looked over to Francis waiting for him to repeat in English. Francis refused to speak, but a pull to a piece of his hair made him sigh. He ran the sentence through his head to make sure his wording was correct.
"There was an accident, and a stagecoach tipped over. It may take a few minutes for the roads to clear." Arthur gave a curt nod deciding to get out a small book from his coat pocket. He always kept at least one for moments like this. He idly passed time reading and minding his own business. That is, until he heard Francis giggling. Arthur ignored it at first thinking he had seen something pass by. When his lover continued laughing, his emerald eyes raised from the book. He glanced over to see Francis speaking to a man in the stagecoach next to them. What they said was a mystery, for Arthur only had a basic understanding of French. The quick words blending with chortles made it impossible for Arthur to translate. Although, he was quite fluent with the body language they used. Francis would lean in, say something in a low voice, and they would let out small laughs. The interactions made Arthur want to rip his book in half, but he could never do that. He was enjoying the story so far, and it would be an insult to tear a single page. He, as calmly as he could manage, put the book back inside his pocket. Arthur subtly scooted closer to the two conversationists. When it went unnoticed, he moved closer. It wasn't until Arthur was almost on top of Francis did they stop to look at him.
"Can I help you?" Francis asked. Arthur gave a cheeky grin to the other man snaking his hand up Francis' back. The Frenchman took it as affection, but the fingers grabbing his neck proved otherwise. Francis excused himself hastily before he was dragged to the other side of the bench. He glared at his boyfriend willing to scold him for interrupting. He paused seeing a mix of jealousy and envy glimmering in Arthur's eyes. Francis sighed leaning back in his seat waiting for Arthur's rant.
"What do you think you're doing? Must you flirt with everyone?" Flirting? Is that what Arthur saw? The idea of wooing someone else while being with Arthur brought a sour taste to Francis' mouth. He rolled his cerulean eyes not wanting to bother with another argument. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the man across from them wishing he would disappear. To Francis, it was clear as day that Arthur was the possessive type. He contemplated using it to his advantage. A devilish grin came to Francis' face. He changed it to a pout as he drew Arthur's attention away from the man.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it." Arthur groaned smacking the reins the moment the road had been cleared. He pulled at his hair trying to calm himself down. He honestly didn't expect Francis to give up his flirtatious ways anytime soon. The condescending smirk worn even during work made Arthur's blood boil. Attention, is that what he really wanted? Arthur would be sure to give Francis all the attention his smug self could handle.
"I'll be sure everyone knows you're my lover." He spoke no more to think of ways to show no one could take Francis away from him. Seeing it as an invite for sex, Francis silenced himself with fantasies. He bit his lip softly trying to picture the event in his mind. The ride home was a pleasantly silent one.