A/N: This was supposed to be a kink meme fill. But then I strayed from the prompt, orz. But I am in so much love with the cardverse that I had to continue writing it. That and FrUK is steadily becoming my OTP and I love writing it.
I will stop rambling now and I hope you like it so far! :D
Arthur had never liked people much, so when Alfred decided that it was time for yet another ball at the royal palace, Arthur had accepted his fate to stay in his golden seat in the corner of the room, silently watching as Alfred conversed and made ties with all the royals he had invited to come join them this fine evening.
The royal balls were rarely more than an annoying hassle for Arthur, even now, after having been the Queen of Spades for several years.
He had married Alfred four years ago, on a stunning day in July. It had at the time been the best day of Arthur's life, saying his vows, swearing eternal loyalty, draped in white, with blue roses covering the ground.
Nineteen years old, he had met the young prince, now turned king, and they had fallen in love on the spot. Alfred's blue eyes and his bright smile had swept Arthur off his feet, and into a marriage. They met by chance, in the town, the prince running into Arthur, knocking him to the ground, ruining his entire attire.
As Arthur had sworn and shouted at the younger man, Alfred had just smiled, said that he would most likely repay everything and more, only he got his name. Little did Arthur know the young man would court him, along with brand new clothing came three dozen red roses and a note confessing love and adoration.
By soon he had fallen for the childish and carefree prince.
Now, on the other hand, things were different. Arthur looked out over the room, green eyes scanning their guests.
The room was a big one, obviously, and excessively decorated with the deep blue and violet so often associated with the Kingdom of Spades. Alfred had always thought that big was the same thing as better, and it showed in how he had re-decorated the castle as he was crowned king.
The large windows had been adorned with long silk drapes, all deep blue with white details around the edges. Every chair and sofa were clad in matching fabric, with various whimsical patterns and textures.
It was all a bit... boring. After seeing nothing but blue and dark, Arthur longed after something a bit more lively. After being surrounded by patterns and trinkets, he wanted something more refined.
And Alfred himself, while still gorgeous and at times irresistible, was getting on Arthur's very last nerves. He was rarely ever home, always having business to attend to elsewhere, never bothering to tell Arthur how things were going.
Instead he just told Arthur that these were no matters for a queen, and that his lovely beauty should just be still and not worry about the things that the heroic king easily could manage all on his own.
Arthur shifted in his seat, eyes flying across the room. The room was filled with people, men in proper suits and women in beautiful dresses flying over the floor in wild dances. Arthur never much fancied dancing, to Alfred's big sorrow. The king of Spades however, always managed to dance with all the prettiest of ladies, not caring much about Arthur. It didn't phase him, really.
His eyes lingered for a moment on a gentleman in gold, as he stood out from the crowd. He recognized the man as the king of Diamonds, ruler of the kingdom just south of Spades. Arthur had never really cared for his name, as he had never properly met him, but only heard of him from Alfred.
For a moment he thought he caught the man looking back, but it seemed to be only his eyes playing him a trick for when he caught him with his gaze the next time, he was dancing a wild dance with a woman dressed in the fanciest of dresses, with ribbons and lace, green to the color.
Gracious smile plastered on his lips, he spun and dipped her, his orange cape twisting and fluttering around him. He definitely knew what he was doing, and Arthur decided that he was most certainly a pompous bastard who thought himself to be irresistible, a god amongst men. He seemed like the type for it.
Turning his attention to his own king for a second, he noticed that Alfred was coming over to his safe hideaway in the corner where no one dared to approach him, taking a break in his eternal bonding with people whose names Arthur didn't care for.
"Hey Artie." Alfred's smile was as bright as always, and possibly even kinder than usual. Arthur rolled his eyes at the nickname. "How are you?"
"I am quite alright. How are things faring with our guests?"
"Loosen up, sweetie," Alfred laughed. "You would know if you actually talked to them."
"I don't see how I am obligated to participate in your pointless little socializations."
"Because you're my queen," the king leaned in to kiss his queen sweetly on the lips, "And I love you."
How this man managed to always be this cheesy, to always turn Arthur's angry insults into a confession of love, was a mystery for Arthur. It intrigued him at the same time as it drove him up the walls.
"Now, the king of Clubs demands my attention. Don't kill yourself having fun!"
Arthur scowled at him, but Alfred paid him no more attention to him as he turned his back to him to instead greet a tall man in green. Ivan was his name, if Arthur was not completely mistaken.
So, just as he prepared to spend the rest of the evening alone with the view of a crowded ball room and the memory of Alfred's kiss, as his only companions, she got interrupted by someone greeting him with a low, sensual voice; "Hello, my queen."
The man, still faintly familiar as the king of Diamonds, had walked up to him. He was dressed in a long orange coat, over a pair of matching pants and a beige shirt. A crown sat securely on his head as his hair fell down to his shoulders, golden blonde to the color.
As he reached over to give Arthur a small orange flower, his blue eyes twinkled with a spark of sensual elegance.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, giving Arthur a wink.
"Who's asking?" Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, eyeing the man critically, refusing to acknowledge the flower thrust in his face.
"Oh, excuse my rudeness, I assumed the host would know who his guests are," the man said, almost seeming offended. Then he extended his hand. "Francis Bonnefoy. King of Diamonds."
Arthur glanced at the offered hand and then at Francis' face before hesitantly taking it in his own.
"Arthur Kirkland Jones. Queen of Spades"
"Oh, I know very well who you are, my dear."
Raising an eyebrow, Arthur stared at Francis. The other man seemed to pay no attention to it as he bowed down and brought Arthur's hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. As he retreated, he met Arthur's eyes again, with a sensual smile that sent sparks to his stomach.
"So, how about that dance?"
"I do not think my king would approve of that."
"He is that possessive?" Francis looked very disbelieving. "I doubt that."
"No, I just don't think he would trust you to keep your hands where they belong," Arthur answered, starting to get bored of this conversation.
"I'm more interested," Francis said, voice as soft as honey as he took Arthur's hand and pulled him up against his chest. "In what you think."
"What I think of what?" Arthur shot back, trying not to sound breathless as Francis' proximity made his heart beat a little faster.
"What do you think, lovely?" Francis was close enough to whisper in his ear at this point, and that warm breath sent unwanted shivers down Arthur's spine. "Of me, of course."
Arthur's resolve broke, "Fine, you may have one dance."
"Lovely," Francis grinned and pulled at Arthur's hand until they almost bumped into other couples on the floor. Francis guided Arthur's hand to his shoulder and put his own on Arthur's waist. "You know how to waltz, yes?"
"Of course, what do you think I am?" Arthur snapped, "Some indecent peasant?"
Francis chuckled and spun Arthur around over the floor. "From what I've heard, that's what you were. Before you met Alfred."
"What?" Arthur gasped. Francis' hand on his waist pressed him closer as they gracefully moved over the floor.
"Am I incorrect?" Francis pressed closer still, their faces merely centimeters apart, breaths mingling between them.
"No," Arthur sighed. "But you do seem awfully nosey."
"Your whole affair is quite well-known, dear."
"Really?"
Francis spun him around, pulled him close again, and dipped him.
"Really," he breathed against Arthur's lips, eyes sparkling dangerously. Arthur swallowed hard, the closeness, Francis' cologne and the heavy atmosphere making his mind go dull and his heart race. It was as if they weren't at all speaking of Arthur's marriage and rather something far more forbidden, far more... pleasurable.
"Francis," Alfred's voice suddenly sounded, interrupting the tension between the two men, "Having fun with my queen?"
The king of Spades closed in on the duo, a strained smile on his lips. Francis stood up straight and let Arthur go, the closeness and the heat and the tension gone as if it never even was there.
"I enjoy dancing, Alfred," Francis smiled, only slightly more carefree and less strained. "You know this."
"And this is a ball, so you should. I didn't mean to interrupt," Alfred said, but still, he wrapped a possessive arm around Arthur's waist. Feeling the calm warmth of Alfred was different from Francis' fiery heat, but Arthur tried not to think about that.
"We were pretty much done, were we not, Arthur?" Francis directed his attention to Arthur, who was slightly flushed in Alfred's grip. He winked at the man, blue eyes bearing a flirty tinge that Arthur hoped Alfred wouldn't pick up on.
"Yes, indeed we were."
"Splendid," Alfred exclaimed, "I had to talk to you."
Leading him away, Alfred kept his hand glued to Arthur's waist. Arthur glanced back, seeing Francis gaze after them for a second before turning his step elsewhere. Probably towards some poor, innocent man or woman who had caught his eye. Again, he seemed the type for it.
"I thought you didn't dance," Alfred muttered in his ear, causing him to turn his head towards his king.
"I don't," Arthur sighed, not feeling up to explaining the whole event. "He was just very persistent."
"Did he force you to something?" Alfred suddenly seemed worried, and maybe a tad bit angry, eyed wide and mouth sharply twisted.
"No," Arthur assured, putting his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Not to worry."
"Good." Alfred glanced across the room over Arthur's shoulder, gaze searching for a certain man dressed in orange. "Otherwise I would have to resort to some drastic methods."
Arthur sighed. Alfred was just a little bit possessive, not liking when people touched what he considered his, no matter what it was. He was not surprised when Alfred had not actually wanted to tell him something, and neither was he shocked when the king refused to let him go back to his corner. Instead he kept him close, a warm hand resting on his waist as Alfred dragged him across the room to talk to guests Arthur had never heard the name of.
Ever so slightly he could feel his attention drop away from nameless faces and faceless names, to something else, or someone rather, someone with a long bright cape. He mentally slapped himself, forcing his mind to stop this complete and utter madness.
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