they wouldn't stop kissing.

it was ridiculous. alfred and arthur had kissed 41 times since they sat down at their table across the restaurant from francis. he knew this, because he saw arthur's car behind him in the parking lot and had been watching the couple, mainly arthur, since they stepped foot out of arthur's blue ford taurus.

the two had been served their food just after francis had gotten his, and he sat there, his plate empty and wishing for more wine. alfred balanced an onion ring on his nose and arthur bumped him so it fell off, causing alfred to pretend to pout before he laughed and picked the ring up with his mouth and brought up to arthur's, who grabbed it and chewed, alfred beaming at him until he swallowed.

42 times.

francis rolled his eyes and checked his watch. it was 10:30, probably time to go home and shower, maybe read a little or listen to some music. his head hurt already from the two glasses of wine, but that's what he got for ordering the cheap stuff in an effort to get drunk fast. it didn't work of course, or else he would probably have stumbled over to arthur already and asked him to leave alfred here with his onion rings (he was now balancing another on his nose) and come home with him so they could drink and francis could be the one hold him and fuck him until he couldn't breathe and alfred could be the one to go home and be lonely and jerk off all by himself.

arthur wiped his face and threw his napkin down on his plate, signaling that he was finished. he said something to alfred, making him laugh with his mouth open, spewing pink bits of steak from his mouth onto the tablecloth in front of him.

francis looked away in disgust. he waved the waiter over and handed him his credit card, before leaning back into the rubber material of the one person booth he was sitting in. he stretched out his ankles, cracked his neck and fingers, pushed back his cuticles, and rearranged his silverware in an effort to stop staring at arthur, but still his eyes lingered on him.

arthur, who had loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his button up unevenly, whose hair was in its usual messy state (that francis found extremely attractive) despite him having gelled it back this morning for the meeting, who was now standing and stretching, his shirt riding up and showing his pale stomach and part of his happy trail, with car keys in hand as alfred signed the check and handed it back to their waitress, smiling at her a little too long before standing up and kissing arthur on the cheek and looping his arm around his waist as they walked towards the door, without looking francis' way or noticing him staring at them.

goddamn arthur. blond haired, green eyed arthur, who he couldn't have despite being involved with him since the 1500's, before alfred was even a thought in the back of anyone's mind. arthur, who he knew everything about down to what shampoo he used to the way he licks his fingers before turning the page of the book he's reading to his collection of photographs that he takes (that no one but francis knows about) and keeps under his bed. arthur, who was driving alfred home, who probably had his hand on alfred's thigh just the way that francis used to do to arthur whenever he drove.

francis pushed himself out of the booth and shuffled his way out to his own car, drove home, and resisted the urge to pick up the phone and call arthur, knowing that he probably wouldn't even pick up. lord knew francis had hurt him enough to justify it.