Francis groaned as he woke up, still exhausted from the other nights events. It had been a rough night for him, dealing with his mothers funeral and what money she did have. He had been taking care of his mother ever since his father ran off with some whore, she had fought and lost a bout of breast cancer that they had been to poor to receive treatment for. A lot of the things Francis had stolen had been to pay for her treatment, but a lot of good that did. With out opening his eyes, he reached out for his precious little lover, feeling the need to hold on to the only thing he had left in the world. His mouth went into a deep frown when he couldn' t find him.

Green eyes cracked open in annoyance to glare at the empty side of the bed that Virgil was suppose to be on. He let out another groan as he got up to go and find the little hero. Cracking his neck as he walked down the hallway, yawning lightly. The large redhead froze when he heard a soft melody coming from somewhere in the house. The only radio they had was in the bedroom, and Virgil would have told him if Adam was coming over. Carefully, the fire manipulator followed the sound to the kitchen. When he opened the door, surprise ran through him. It was Virgil who was singing, and he was good, real good. The song was sung gently, and as if it was of great importance, the way Virgil conveyed the emotions in it, was what struck a cord in the fiery red head.

Francis knew his lover couldn't rap, hell everyone and their mother knew that, but rap and singing were two different things. It was then that Francis remembered something Mr. Hawkins had told him six months into his relationship with Virgil. Robert's wife, Jean could sing, and knew how to cook. Robert also said that VIrgil took most things from his mother, including her ability to cook. Apparently he had her singing ability as well. Virgil's voice had smoky sound to it, smooth and steady, caressing the ears like silk would skin. Francis shuddered lightly at the sound of his little lovers voice, enjoying it for its soothing sound. Virgil always had the ability to sooth Francis, calming his wild temper in a matter of seconds and being his stability. The redhead stalked forward with a quiet that years of stealing had nothing to do with.

Virgil continued to sing out the song his mother had sung to him as a child, unaware that his lover was behind him. Virgil was cooking Francis favorite breakfast, a smile formed on his full mouth when he remembered the shocked look on his lovers face when the redhead had discovered his cooking ability. Since then Francis would eat no one else's food, claiming nothing was better then Virgil's cooking. The boy only stopped singing when he felt a pair of thick arms wrap around his middle, startling him.

"Don't stop on my account." Francis whispered huskily into Virgil's ear. Virgil blushed furiously at being caught singing.

"I'm not that good," Virgil said shyly, snuggling back into Francis warm body.

Francis smiled slightly, after three years together Virgil still got shy around him. It was real cute.

"Yeah ya' are. Who ever says yer not will answer to me." Francis said, resting his chin on Virgil's shoulder, his arms tightening around the boy's slender waist. Virgil let out a little snicker, glad that his lover was so protective. Moments later, Virgil began singing again, blushing at the audience that was holding him close.