Walking through campus on Christmas Eve with someone as opposed to strolling home in the cold as usual on this night was not something Arthur was used to. Especially when that someone happened to be his particularly flamboyant and attractive, dare I say friend, who was currently trying to snatch the blonde's gloved hand as they went along. It was rather unfathomable to Arthur how he had quite reluctantly agreed to go over to Francis's place that chilly evening, especially since their relationship was.. rocky, to say the least.

Perhaps it was that Arthur didn't want to spend another Christmas alone, being left in solitude by his other friends, who obviously had better things to do than hang out with him. Maybe, just maybe, Arthur wanted someone to be with this Christmas, even if it meant being with the frog. Not that he would ever admit any of this. Hell, the blonde's inability to admit these things to himself is astounding, and even more so, Francis's ability to pick up on it, something no one else could seem able to do.

Soon, Francis's attempts at grasping the other's hand were not in vain, and he had successfully entwined their fingers after a bit of work, which rather surprisingly, Arthur had stopped resisting. Arthur didn't mind it too much, he supposed, though having never really held hands with anyone for any length of time, or had his palm squeezed so caringly and appreciatively as it was now, made him think. Why was he now touching with the guy whom his hand usually busy slapping or strangling in frustration?

Shaking his head a little, Arthur thought back to when he had first met Francis. The day he had begun to detest that damn Frenchman. It was in English class, the first day of that course. Arthur later learned that Francis had transferred to Britain for photography, majoring in it for college, though he had to take English as well to improve upon his language. The man had sat in front of him while he was peacefully reading a book, and that was Francis's first mistake in his encounter with Arthur.

Mistake number two: Interrupting him while he was reading. Now, normally, just simply having someone sit in front of him in that particular cramped classroom where all the desked were squished together meant trouble. It was common knowledge to not sit anywhere near Arthur in fact, he needed his personal space. If you didn't respect that, you might walk home with a black eye.

Now Francis rather stupidly had decided it was a good idea to begin checking Arthur out a few minutes into class, being one to never overlook an attractive possible mate. Well, mate or bed buddy. Unfortunately, with this time, he had picked a rather bad person to try and flirt around with, for as soon as his finger hooked on the edge of Arthur's book, a hand slapped him right in the face, causing Francis to jump back in surprise.

"Ow! What was that for mon cher? Goodness!" Francis chuckled, trying to ignore the stinging pain on his face as he rubbed his cheek, gazing at Arthur, who had decided to ignore him after that, hoping he would stop bothering him in the middle of reading a wonderful piece of literature. "You're quite the feisty one it seems, hm?" Francis's mistake number three was thinking he still had a chance with Arthur.

Arthur sighed in irritation and glared up at Francis over his book, highly annoyed by now and slamming his book shut, sat up and pushed the Frenchman away from him, whom hadn't learned his lesson and was now leaning on his desk. "What the bloody hell do you want, you nasty frog?" he asked, a clear tone of venom in his voice. Other students who were watching the situation were soon praying for the poor bastard that was trying to get with Arthur as he smiled charmingly and brushed a golden lock from his face.

"Oh nothing much, mon ami.. Just wanted to get to know a handsome classmate," Francis replied smoothly, gaining a look of daggers. "Maybe learn such a pretty boy's name, hm?" Francis's hand was sneakily creeping along the desk towards Arthur's, at least before it was smacked away with a book, leaving Francis's hands bright red. "Fuck off, frog," Francis had flinched and whimpered a little at the pain now in his face and his hand. This attractive boy was rather ticking him off now, but he wanted him, dammit.

Lips pulling in a pout, eyebrows furrowing a little, Francis reluctantly had pulled away, though still watching Arthur, who in turn was watching him back. Though the new student was, dare he say rather alluring and attractive, there was no way Arthur was having any of that shit. "Hmph. Well someone isn't much of a gentleman," Francis said curtly, hoping to set off a nerve if this boy was a stereotypical Brit like it seemed he would be.

Arthur stiffened and balled up his fists, growing angry. Francis's plan had worked. "Oh, I'M not the gentleman here? Really? REALLY?" Arthur stood up and immediately went to take a swing at Francis, whom was expecting this and simply caught the man's fist. "Well, if you are one, maybe have the courtesy to share your name?" Francis laughed softly, ducking another punch aimed at him by Arthur, who was severely frustrated by now.

Arthur growled and replied angrily, "Arthur. Bloody Kirkland. And what is your name Frenchie? Horny Wine Guzzling Frog?" This comment got a laugh from the small crowd of students forming around the two in the classroom, and Francis grit his teeth, sending his fist at Arthur's face, who was not prepared for the blow and Francis's fist caught him in the nose. Arthur raised his hand to hold his nose, and groaning. Soon Francis was groaning too, having gotten a swift kick between the legs as a response.

Francis shot Arthur a nasty look, which was returned with a satisfied smirk and the charming blonde was about to retaliate again with a similar kick, but he held back, clearing his throat and straightening up after the pain. After all, if he was ever going to get with this fiesty Briton, which he quite wanted to, he liked a guy with some fight in him, he wouldn't want to be kicking the man's assets, now would he.

"A-alright, alright, you win, you win!" Francis said, putting his hands up in forfeit. "You put up a good fight… Monsieur Kirkland, was it?" Chuckling, Francis put out his hand in a friendly gesture. Arthur wasn't all too trusting of the Frenchman's words, but hesitantly took Francis's hand in his own, about to shake it, when Francis pulled him over by it and kissed him deeply, though quickly and teasingly, releasing him with a skilled flick of the tongue across Arthur's sweet lips.

Arthur stumbled back, stunned by this, but soon shook his head, face reddening in embarrassment and anger, cursing and muttering as students laughed around them. "W-why you huge PRICK!" he screeched, gaining a suggestive wink and a handblown kiss. That damn frog. Arthur was angry at him, and, well himself too. The kiss was.. well to say the least incredible, it was evident the man was a practised kisser, though of course he would never admit any of this. Especially not the fact he sort of enjoyed it.

"Oh, mon cher, that's inappropriate language, and why would you be mentioning my prick?" He tutted teasingly at Arthur, who was looking more and more enraged by the second. "Are you perhaps trying to suggest something, hm?" Arthur growled, about to hit him or scream at him again, when the professor finally arrived, walking in, and everyone immediately had to sit down, not wanting to get yelled at by her. And so Arthur spent the whole class furious and bright red while having to watch Francis sit in front of him, every once in a while shooting him smug looks.