Frogs
A light breeze ruffled the long vines of the willow trees, whispering in the summer air. Water bugs jumped and floated near the banks, shimmering dragon flies scattering as a lone boy shed his clothes and jumped right into the water.
Francis broke the surface and shook his hair out, enjoying the cool water. He didn't often get to go swimming. He was always busy, always doing something else, always with the nobility and king. For a reason he couldn't understand, the nobility thought it was uncouth to go swimming like this.
But the day was hot, and he had free time, so he enjoyed it by swimming, floating along and listening to crickets in the long grass and the feel of rippling water over his skin.
"Just when I thought there was an end to your crudity, you stupid frog, you go and prove me wrong." Francis straitened, splashing through the water towards the shore as Arthur emerged from the tall grass, arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently.
He was taller than the last time Francis had seen him, his hair a darker shade of blonde. But his rabbit was still in his arms, and his pout and his slight blush was the same as he remembered. Francis swam towards him gracefully, carefully noting the way Arthur watched him.
"Crude, am I, Mon petit lapin?" Francis laughed softly, appraising him through half lidded eyes. "Come closer, I haven't seen you for a very long time." Arthur stepped closer toward the bank, and suddenly let out a yelp, jumping back into the grass. A little croak and quiet plop of water was the boy's only reply. Francis raised an elegant eyebrow as he watched the frog swim leisurely away.
"Don't like frogs, do you, Arthur?" Francis teased, grinning as Arthur flushed. Arthur stamped his foot impatiently, looking away from him and staying carefully away from the mud lest he met any more green menaces.
"I like French frogs even less." He growled. Francis just grinned, finding the small frog in the muck near the bank. Arthur watched him warily, backing away from the river. "Keep that ugly thing away from me." Arthur threatened, watching the frog as it squirmed in Francis's hands.
"Who, this little guy?" He chased Arthur with it, laughing heartily as Arthur kept his distance, running along the banks of the river away from him, flushed red from exhertion. All the while he tried hard not to notice the way the flecks of sun played on his bare skin. "Come on, Arthur, why don't you give him a kiss? Maybe he'll turn into a prince."
Arthur snorted, flinching as Francis brought the frog closer to his face. It was slimy, and stared at him with great big yellow eyes, it's throat bulging as it croaked. He didn't care how tiny or harmless it was. It was disgusting. "There's only one frog I'm likely to kiss any time soon, and I doubt it'll turn into a prince."
Suddenly, something cold and wet was against his cheek. He yelped, a horribly undignified sound as he pushed away from the still naked Frenchman and scrubbed his face. Francis laughed at him, tossing away the frog. "You pig headed pervert! That's so...!" He wasn't able to continue, wiping his face on his sleeve and staring at Francis in horror.
"Look, mon petit lapin." Francis held out his arms dramatically, eyes glittering in the bright sunlight and mirth. "It worked. A prince."
Arthur laughed sardonically, shooting him a pointed look. "You'll always be a frog to me. And it'll take more than a kiss to fix what you have." Francis grabbed him around the waist, kissing his face. The water droplets on his body were absorbed by the soft wool of Arthur's cape. He sputtered and blushed, but didn't make any attempts to escape.
"Are you offering, mon petit lapin?" Arthur struck his shoulder, frustrated and embarrassed by Francis's affection.
"No, I'm not offering. Stupid frog."
Owari