"Why is it that everyone I know are such fools?" Arthur slurred, banging his glass down on the table after a particularly large gulp. "I don't fucking understand it! Like those bloody Italians, I'm sick of them, I can only put up with their childishness for so long, bloody tomatoes, whoop-de-doo and I don't give a flying fuck. And we simply can't forget about Ivan and his ridiculous sisters, oh no, not with Natalia popping out of every opening like a fucking jack-in-the-box at the most inopportune times..."
Francis looked on in mild amusement while Arthur ranted on about how much he hated everyone. The almost imperceptibly smaller man (a quarter of an inch difference in height, but Francis never missed an opportunity to lord the fraction over Arthur) gesticulated madly as he did so, green eyes flashing, eyebrows bobbing up and down as he made expressions of anger and exasperation.
"Bloody fucking hamburgers and heroes, that's all it ever is with Alfred, never anything about good old Arthur who practically raised that stupid kid, not one word of thanks, not one!" Arthur took another swig of alcohol before continuing. "And my one real friend Kiku with his stupid crush, he's much too good for someone like Alfred; why does love turn people into such fools? God, I hate my life!" Suddenly, the Brit appeared close to ears. Francis frowned. This was getting a little intense, even for someone like Arthur, who couldn't hold his liquor to save his best china.
"And you!" Arthur cried. "You... You..."
Here we go, Francis thought, bring on the usual choice insults. But they didn't come. Arthur just stared at the Frenchman, cheeks pink, fiercely biting down on his lower lip to keep it from quivering.
"I..." He burst into tears, and Francis stared in shock. Of course he'd seen Arthur cry before during these drinking sessions (make that during practically every drinking session- the man's eyes seemed to be able to hold more water than the fucking polar ice caps) but never quite like this. Arthur wasn't trying to hide it; burying his face from view with the table or simply crying into his hands. Nor was he screaming insults or lamentations between the sobs. His arms were at his sides as shoulders shook unabashedly, hot tears dripping down his cheeks and onto his knees.
"Come here, Arthur," Francis said firmly, wrapping an arm around his inebriated companion and forcing him to stand. Arthur responded by clinging to the Frenchman's shirt with both hands, still sobbing like an infant. "Mon Dieu," muttered Francis. "We're leaving." Arthur did not resist as Francis led him out of the bar and to his car.
"Get in the back seat," he commanded. Wow, that sounded a great deal dirtier than I intended. Oh well, it is not as if he will notice. As predicted, Arthur complied, but not before fastening his seat belt.
"S-Seat belt," he whimpered. Francis rolled his eyes. Leave it to Arthur to religiously follow all safety precautions even while drunk as a skunk.
"Whatever. Just try not to throw up on my car, s'il vous plâit."
Arthur calmed down a bit during the drive to Francis's house. Francis dared not take him to Arthur's own home, or drop him off in a hotel room- who knew what the drunk might do, given the state he was in? The last thing Francis needed was for Arthur to throw himself out a window on his watch. So he parked the car, pulled Arthur out, and led him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, placing him on his bed. Francis would pull in a sleeping bag and make sure Arthur didn't choke on his own vomit during the night.
But as he was about to leave the room, he was interrupted by a hand grabbing hold of his sleeve. He turned to see Arthur gripping the fabric like it was a lifeline, head bowed slightly, and green eyes upturned. They stared at one another for a few seconds, until Arthur suddenly reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and pulled Francis onto the bed and top of him, the haze in Arthur's eyes become more obvious to Francis as the green bored into his blue.
"Not now, cher," Francis whispered. "Not like this." A final tear dripped from the outermost corner of Arthur's left eye and slid to the bedsheets beneath his hair.
"Please?" He whispered. Francis pulled away. Arthur's hands fell limply to his sides as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Francis had to manually arrange him so that his head was on the pillow. Just as stubborn intoxicated as he was sober, Francis noted with some amusement.
"I will hold you. Nothing more," he said, crawling into the bed beside Arthur and wrapping his arms around him; allowing Arthur's head to rest on his shoulder. Arthur murmured something, but Francis was too busy trying to make sure he would be able to extricate himself in the morning without waking Arthur.
If he had been listening closely, he might have heard something like, I hate how I can never hate you.
Arthur awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. He moaned slightly and rolled over, trying to block out the light from that stupid bay window.
Wait a fucking minute. Arthur's bedroom didn't have a bay window. Oh, shit. He shot bolt upright and stared around him. Blue walls, bay window, pure white lilies on the nightstand (oh, the irony). Shit, shit, shit. He threw himself out of the bed that most certainly did NOT belong to him and practically vaulted down the stairs, stumbling and sliding into the living room to find Francis nibbling on a croissant over a glass coffee table.
"You!" He screeched. Francis raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.
"Me?"
"What happened last night?" Arthur questioned him, voice quivering slightly. Francis merely raised his eyebrows.
"Ah, you don't remember?" This was unfortunate. It would have been quite entertaining to see Arthur's reaction to his own behavior. "Well, rest assured I did not violate you in any way. Look- your clothes are even still on." Arthur looked down at himself, then breathed a sigh of relief, slumping onto a white couch on the other side of the table. Francis handed him a plate on which a fresh croissant sat steaming. Arthur grudgingly accepted the breakfast.
"Make yourself comfortable," Francis commanded. "We need to have a talk.
"About what?" Arthur glared. God, his head hurt.
"You were an utter disaster last night. Ranting, crying-" he decided now would not be the best time to go into the third activity. "The whole works. You are in a bad place, mon cher lapin," he said dramatically, adopting his best advice-giving pose.
"I'm just fine, thank you very much," Arthur asserted through gritted teeth, taking a bite out of the croissant. Damn it, why did it have to taste so good?
"Arthur, you are simply not. Last night you said you hated everyone, and your life. That is not a healthy attitude."
"I always say stuff like that after I've had a few drinks. I don't know what you're so worked up about."
"Look, I think I have a solution," Francis continued. "You need..." He paused for dramatic effect. "To get laid."
As one would expect, an awkward silence descended over the room. Arthur gawped at him, then stood up (making sure, of course, that the croissant was still in his hand).
"Thanks for the croissant. I'm leaving."
"Wait! I did not mean with me. I did not even mean have full-blown sex, necessarily! Although that would definitely be ideal." Arthur glowered at him in disbelief. "You simply need to find a willing partner you can love with when the mood strikes. It is good for your mental health. I will even assist you."
"HOW THE HELL IS CASUAL SEX GOOD FOR A PERSON'S HEALTH?" Arthur shouted. Francis winced.
"Like I said, it does not necessarily have to be sex... It could be a hand job, or-"
"YOU'RE INSANE." Francis swore he could feel the floor shake beneath his fluffy slippers.
"Look, Arthur," Francis said impatiently. "I know you like to read your deep love stories where the characters live happily ever after. I enjoy them as well- France is the country of l'amour, is it not? But that is not always the best solution for every situation. Plenty of us enjoy casual relationships in between the serious ones. It has been a long time for you, correct?" Arthur felt his ears growing red. Well, more red than they had been when he had been screaming at Francis.
"Doesn't mean I have to resort to this," Arthur muttered. "How do you know this is my so-called problem, anyway?"
"Experience. I have found that when it comes to most people, not getting enough loving just tends to be the problem," Francis shrugged. "It's the first thing I check for when someone I know is feeling down." Arthur growled.
"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just not as addicted to sex as the twats you know."
"Come now, Arthur, most of us take part in some casual fooling around on a regular basis. It is human nature. People like us may be... Unique, but we're not immune to the sweet calling of l'amour." Francis was looking more perverted by the second.
"Yeah, well, even if I were going to take you up on your offer to teach me- which I'm not- who the hell would I fool around with? There are only so many of us."
"Who said it had to be one of us?" Francis frowned. "There are plenty of normal people out there just waiting for you make love to them-"
"HELL. NO. I've seen what happens to people who mess around with civilians. I don't have to look any further than my brother for that." Arthur shook his head in disapproval. "Still hung up on some whoreish farm girl who's been buried for almost four centuries." Francis rolled his eyes.
"Fine, though it is going to be très difficile for me to find you someone. You have been around long enough that we all know you just a little too well, I am afraid. But I could still do it, I bet you. And your brother is a fool," he muttered under his breath.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY BROTHER?" Arthur made a motion to throw his plate at Francis, who ducked and managed to squeak out "rien!"
"And it doesn't matter anyway because I'm not going to have casual sex!" Arthur roared, dropping the plate.
"Fine. Then I'll just tell everyone everything you said about them last night." Francis smirked. Arthur gawked.
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would do anything for mon cher anglaise." Arthur's face was beet red and he was practically shaking with anger. "And I will make sure that Ivan will be the first to kn-"
"Fine! You win! I'll play your stupid game!" He spat. "But not until I've had a good nap! I have the mother of all hangovers!" He then began to stomp back up the stairs.
"Uh, where are you going?" Francis asked.
"To your bed! I'm not riding the fucking train all the way home with this headache and you owe me at least this much!" Francis merely shrugged as he listened to the Brit's feet hit the floor in a constant rhythm.
"He really ought to have learned by now not to go out drinking avec moi and then expect me not to have acquired blackmail material," Francis murmured to himself as he took another bite of his croissant.
AN: Hi! So I know this first chapter started out angsty, but the story is primarily intended to be humorous. Arthur is just a weepy drunk, lol. And of course Francis is his dramatic self. Anyway, I have a little more written out at the moment so I will be probably be able to update regularly for a little while before I run out of reserves. After that point, you can expect an update within 2-4 weeks, depending on the time of year. Rest assured, however, that I do finish most stories and I won't leave you hanging if I decide to discontinue this or put it on hiatus- I will put up a note. (And I probably won't continue on past 6-7 chapters unless some new ideas for the plot fall out of the sky, so I doubt finishing this will be a big issue. If I can't get it done before the end of September I'll work on it over Christmas break, because I'm going into my junior year at a difficult high school and I'm going to be one busy little motherfucker.)
A note on French: I study French at school, so I feel reasonably confident about making simplistic statements, but don't hesitate to correct me if I screw up here and there.
Also, this story is going to be pretty challenging to write because while I like the idea I came up with, I pretty much know nothing about people's normal sex habits. I don't know how common it is to have casual sex, friends-with-benefits type relationships and whatnot except for what I see on TV :P (You will come to see that I am very Kiku-like.) I myself have never had a romantic or sexual relationship or any sort. So those of you who get out of the house a little more- if things start getting weird or really out of sync with reality, feel free to let me know in a review XD They don't teach us about this in health class... I'm a science geek anyhow, so this is not my area of expertise... Also, do keep in mind that Francis thinks making love is a passable answer to almost everything, so his ideas about Arthur's inner turmoil probably differ from yours. They certainly differ from mine. ^^;
Lastly, also on the topic of sex- there will be no lemons or explicit material in this fanfiction, but there may be one heterosexual almost-lime. That's about as sexy as this is going to get. Sorry to those of you who might have been hoping for something more XD
Other pairings may appear or be mentioned from time to time, they will likely be of the AmeriPan, RoChu or GerIta variety. However, they will probably not play a big role so please don't be put off if you're not a fan of these particular ships!
Gah, that was long. Thanks for reading, and please tell me your thoughts! As per usual, I don't tend to reply to reviews if I can't think of anything to say except "Thanks!", but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate you, so I give you all a huge THANK YOU! in advance for reviewing :3
UPDATE 8/06/2012: Renovated and improved!