Francis laughed, lightheartedly tossing the small plush tomato over Antonio's head where Gilbert was quick to snatch it up. They had been playing keep away like this for a while. "Mon ami, you must be faster than that!"

Antonio snorted in defiance, "Oh yeah? I'll show you faster!" As Gilbert tossed the tomato back toward Francis, Antonio slammed into the Frenchman. The Spaniard succeeded in knocking him onto the bed, so he could grab the tomato. "Who's slow now mi amigo?"

Gilbert, who had fallen over laughing, sat up waving his wallet around... wait no... that was Francis's wallet! "Hey brohauses! The awesome Gilbert is inviting you two idiots to get a hella drunk!"

Francis huffed indignantly, "Not with my wallet you're not!"

Antonio stood dramatically on the bed, "Nothing to fear! I shall pay for us today!" Francis and Gilbert cheered.

The three of them had been staying at a small hotel in the middle of a busy British city. The three had bought plane tickets and run away from home. They had been here for about two weeks. They had also not bothered to tell anyone where they were going.

About an hour later they went out, they visited a small pub. It was owned by an annoyed Scotsman who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Antonio bought each of them bought beer since it was the cheapest thing they sold. The three liked this place, it was small so often not many people were ever there to judge them. This time they sat near the middle of the room since as Gilbert said, "There awesomeness could project around the room."

After about half an hour they were considerably drunk. Gilbert piped up after finishing what looked like his eighth beer. (Hard to tell as the table was filled with multiple cups from all three of them) "Hey Francis! I have a dare for you!"

Francis lifted his head, "Anything."

Gilbert snickered looking around the room. "go up to...," his crimson eyes settled upon a blonde Englishman with scruffy hair, "him! Tell him you like him or some gay crap!"

Francis knew he was the only one officially gay in their group, so his friends teased him for it, but right now he was too drunk to care. "You're on!"

Francis strolled over to the British gentleman. He found himself starring at his strangely thick eyebrows for a second before he was able to utter anything. "Mon amour! Where have you been all my life? What could cause me to be blessed with an angel straight from heaven like you?" Francis even went so far as to grab his hand and gently kiss it. He could hear his friends cracking up back at their table.

Francis looked up to see the man's face. His sparkling green eyes were dancing with rage, but his face was as red as one of Antonio's tomatoes. He was kind of cute. "You bloody frog! What in the bloody hell was that about?! You evil, despicable, git! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

The Scott behind the counter glanced over. "Everything okay over there Arthur?" Arthur turned to nod. Francis smiled learning his name. "Mon ange, I only wish to serve you."

Arthur's head snapped back to him. His eyes were still full of rage, just not as much. "You can serve me by crawling back to the hole you came from!"

Francis dropped to a knee, bowing. "If that is what your heart wishes." He grabbed Arthur's hand again to kiss it, but it was quickly pulled away. Francis stood, he knew he would be too drunk to remember any of this tomorrow, but the angry British gentleman sparked something in Francis that he had never felt before.