Breathing Code
Suffering from critical depression after a break-up, Arthur comes to the decision of suicide; only to be snatched by death by this brother. After coming to the conclusion that he and relationships don't work, he accepts the fact he will be alone forever. Until he meets Francis. frUK AU.
Warning: smut, mild cursing, Gilbert, and slight gore (depending on your view).
Author's note: This plot does not belong to me. I was given permission by Hair-Noodles. Though, while the plot is not mine, I revised the story almost completely, using only a few phrases from here and there. Also, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors or punctuation errors, or grammar errors. I have no BETA.
Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own anything.
.oOo.
Blood. His blood. The contrasted was easily spotted against his light skin. Deep crimson against white. He watched it; he liked the way it looked. Thicker than water, perhaps thicker than honey, he couldn't tell. He felt dizzy with adrenalin. Streams of the warm liquid creped down his arm, entangling itself in fingers of foolishness and sorrow. Afterwards, it would find itself on the stone tile and tomorrow, it would stain the grout.
Faint sounds rang in the distance as a fist, balled, slammed against a wooden door. And yet, he paid it no mind. How could he? The amount of blood was at greats as it made its journey from the bleached tile, toward the drain.
The sounds grew louder until they were recognized as words. Violently they called and still he paid no attention. The voices, after all, still remained quiet despite the advance in volume. He had found a way out, and that was his only concern. His eyelids tugged at his face and he no longer fought to keep them open. And yet, they didn't close fast enough for him to escape the glimpse of golden hair. Then his mind and body surrendered.
Arthur ran his fingers down the scars that stained his wrists, a habit he found hard to break, before he tugged his shirt slaves down . It'd had been almost a year since the incident. After a couple of blood transfusions, a week or two in the hospital, and of course several hours of counseling…He still wished that Peter had not decided to come over, of all night. Arthur would never openly admit that that though. He had already had several worried friends and family.
They still worried about him though. Arthur was fully aware of this. Luckily, things had calmed down enough so that he could go to the grocery store without them jumping on his case. No more did they act like he was ready to jump into traffic or blow his brains out at any moment. He had to admit he had considered it a few times though. Lately, it was actually becoming more tempting.
"Hey! Jerk Arthur! You up?" Peter yelled after pounding on his front door. Very much like the night.
Arthur groaned. He pulled the blanket up over his head and his younger brother came into the room, switching on the light.
"Oh cooome on Arthur! You've had your ass in bed all week. We're all going out to the club." Peter climbed onto to bed and began bouncing.
"Let me bloody stay here. Why do I have to go?" He groaned once more.
"Oh hell no! You need to get out again! Meet some new blokes. May-haps even get laid." Peter laughed snatching the blanket away from his brother's face and onto the ground, him following close behind. "You need to leave this apartment every once and a while. You'll turn into a hermit like Vash. Gilbert says he hasn't left his house for three months now you know!"
"I don't need to meet bloody people, or get laid!" Arthur spat, getting to his feet irritably. "And I'm not- no Vash. I leave..."
Arthur walked toward his dresser. "…Sometimes."
"Sometimes." Peter repeated mockingly.
"I don't need to get out!" Arthur snapped.
"Oh ho ho, yes you do. All you've done since Alfred left is hide out in here or sit like a bloody zombie ate your brain in class. You, Arthur Kirkland, are coming with me clubbing tonight if my name is not Peter. We are going to go meet everyone at the club." Peter shoved Arthur into the bathroom. "Now clean up, you look like crap."
"Thanks." Arthur mumbled as he gave in.
.oOo.
No more than an hour later had Arthur found himself nursing his drink with this little group. His friends, and of course, there dates. Peter sat with Raivis, arm around his waist while Feliks leaned against Toris. Antonio had Lovino practically sitting in his lap. Other than Feliciano, who was currently waiting for Ludwig to get off work, Arthur was the odd one out.
How Peter expected Arthur to meet new people was beyond him. He paid most of his attention to his phone, almost as if he was waiting for a called. Every once and a while he would zone into to conversation. It was obvious that they were doing their best to avoid the subject of Alfred, Arthur could tell.
"Hey guys! Why wasn't I invited to this little party!" Gilbert loud voice echoed through the club, despite the loud music.
"I called you," Antonio laughed. "You didn't pick up. I thought you were busy with Mr. Williams or somethi-"
Antonio cut himself short when he saw the man standing next to Gilbert. He was taller than himself as well as Gilbert, with shoulder length wavy blonde hair, stubble, and blue eyes.
"Francis!" Antonio shot from his seat, knocking Lovino onto the floor. The Spaniard flung his arms around said Francis. "I thought you were in Paris working on your career!"
Francis laughed gingerly, hugging his friend back. "Flew in last night. I was going to surprise you are Gilbert today but my hotel reservations were canceled. I had to sleep at Gilbert's house."
Antonio smiled and turned to the small group of friends. "This is Francis Bonnefoy; he's been nuestro amigo from grade-school." He shoved Francis forward.
Lovino didn't seem very enthused as he picked himself off the floor. It wasn't long until Gilbert and Antonio introduced everyone to Francis before Arthur had realized they had managed to skip over him.
.oOo.
Several hours passed since Francis arrived with Gilbert. Since then, Arthur's little collection of friends had broken up into more personal groups. Now he was left nursing his drink at the small bar, alone.
Francis watched him curiously from where he sat with Antonio and Gilbert; Lovino leaving to sit with his brother. Francis tried but he couldn't put a name to the man before he, as well, remembered that the man was skipped. The Parisian watched him, becoming intrigued when he saw the blonde begin to fidget with his wrist then tug at his sleeve only to repeat the process minutes later.
"Hey Antonio. Who is he? I believe mon ami forgot to give me a name for him earlier."
"Who? Oh, that's Arthur Kirkland…I think it is best if you just leave him be." Antonio answered, talking another drink from his ale before replying to one of Gilbert's questions.
"Pourquoi? If there a jealous lover that I should watch for?" Francis asked, disguising his inquiry with a sarcastic tone.
"Not exactly, he just got dumped and I don't think someone like you would be good for him." Antonio leaned in toward him. It would make any other person uncomfortable, but not Francis, "He doesn't take things very well, you wouldn't be very good for fixing that I wouldn't think."
.oOo.
Arthur was beginning to regret even coming. One heavy sigh and he pushed his drink away from him, not quite remembering how many he had, which normally meant he had to many and it was time to stop.
He rested his forehead against the cold table top, already dreading the hangover he'd have in the morning. Arthur couldn't figure out why he was even here, it hadn't taken long for everyone to separate into their own little corners so now he was left to sit here like a fool.
Arthur jumped as he felt foreign hands run down his shoulders and wrapped around his thin wrists. When he went to sit up his back pressed into another body, he looked to the side to find Francis leaning over his shoulder. The taller man turned his wrist over and slid his sleeves up. Paralyzed by shock Arthur just stared at the strange man as he ran his fingers over the scars.
"E-excuse me Frog!" Arthur finally choked out angrily. He tried to pull his arms out of Francis' grasp. "Is this how you greet people in your bloody country?"
"Shh. I am simply figuring out what has been so interesting to you, mon cher. I must say, these are some rather impressive scars. Something tells me they weren't an accident." Francis purred against Arthur's ear, making him shiver, as he held fast to his wrists
"Almost as much as an accident as me beating you over your bloody head if you don't unhand me." He replied, a little surprised that Francis had been watching him enough to see him fidgeting like that.
"It appears to me that you must have either been very sad, or crazy to let something like that happen. Which one is it mon amour?" Arthur couldn't help but stiffened when he felt Francis' lips against his neck. The way he was pinned to the table made it so he couldn't move, so short of shouting at him there was no way to make him stop…not that Arthur really wanted him to.
"Or lonely." Arthur murmured before he could collect himself,
"Oh?" Francis looked at the empty cups by him. "Well then, considering how much you've had to drink; I think it would be a bad idea for you to go home alone tonight." Francis replied.
Arthur's breath caught in his throat as teeth graze his ear; he just nodded his head in answer to the statement. He felt the grip on his arms loosen as the French man pulled away from him. As soon as he stood up an arm slipped around his waist and turned him around. It was all so fast to process for before he knew it Francis had tipped his chin up and snaked his tongue into his mouth. A hand was under his shirt. He moaned a little against Francis' mouth as his tongue made a few short sweeps over his own before Francis pulled away once again. Arthur was relieved no one had witnessed that little scene.
Arthur had found he couldn't think very clearly, and he wasn't sure if it was all the alcohol in his system or the Frenchy. He looked up at Francis, who wore the big smile he'd had when he first arrived.
"You might want to let your friend know you're heading home, we wouldn't want him thinking that I kidnapped you." Francis purred. Arthur nodded in a trans before going to find Peter and Raivis.
He shoved Peter's shoulder to get his attention
"Hey, I'm going home." Arthur said after Peter turned to face him.
"You need a ride?" Peter asked.
"No I'm fine." Arthur replied. Peter arched his eyebrow when he saw Francis' waiting for him at the door. "Looks like it was good I dragged you out of bed?"
"Shut up." Arthur snapped tipsily.
"Best you watch out there Arthur. Francis is a good man, but he's not as nice as he acts." Antonio warned.
"I can watch myself." Arthur said before turning and joining Francis.
.oOo.
"Looks like Arthur has done pretty damn good for the night." Peter laughed kissing Raivis' neck.
"Do you really think Arthur should be careful around Francis, Antonio?" Raivis asked a little concern on his face as he pushed against Peter's chest.
"His hair is like, way to perfect. Omigosh Liet, what if he is like, a murderer1" Feliks panicked shoving Toris' shoulder.
Toris sighed.
"I'm friends with Gilbert, but that doesn't mean he's not a bastard sometimes now does it?" Antonio answered. "Besides, Francis is really nice. He just uses people."
"Haha, I love you too." Gilbert scowled.
.oOo.
Right after Arthur's apartment door was closed, Francis had him pinned against it. Mouth sealed over the Brit. Francis drew out a hiss from Arthur as the Englishman dug his nails into his shoulders and down his front. Francis; teased he front of Arthur's pants, rubbing long fingers and palm against his crotch resulting in arched hips against his hand. Arthur could hardly stand it, it felt so good. He groaned in protest when the hands left his pants. Francis chuckled.
Arthur's was first to leave his body; it being tugged up his torso. Arthur surpressed a moan as hands began to run up his bare side and chest as they made their way to Arthur's room.
He wasn;t sure when exactly, but somewhere along the way, shoes were kicked off and pants that have become unusually, unbearably tight were thrown aside. By the time Arthur had hit his bed, they were stark naked. Just as he began to get comfortable, Francis' spun him around he was pressed against his chest.
Arthur allowed himself to be pressed against Francis as his hands came down to his waist, teasing him once again. A hot mouth bit at the curve of his shoulder and neck as Francis walked himself forwards until he had Arthur on his hands and knees upon the bed. Francis kept his arm enclosing Arthur's waist. Francis used his free hand to tilt Arthur's head back before he invaded the smaller mans mouth.
It took Arthur a little while to notice that the hand around his waist tightened on his hip before Francis thrust into him without warning. A cry tore sharply from Arthur's lips only to be broken by the other figured mouth. Francis gave Arthur a few moments to get use to the new presence before Francis began to rock his hips gently at first.
A few whimpers found themselves escaping into the world as Francis released his lips to instead, suck and bit his nape. Leaving little marks.
Arthur did his best to remain quiet but soon every thrust resulted in a whimper or cry. Francis' hips moved quickly and hard while his hand grasps Arthur's manhood in time to the motions. He could feel Francis' breath on the back of his neck.
The pleasure piled on him until he couldn't keep himself up any longer and his arms began to buckle. Francis' noticed his and tightened his arm around the other man's waist, holding him up as he continued to work at his length.
Arthur shuddered as he came in Francis' hand, to engulfed in pleasure to call out his name. Francis was soon to follow, collapsing beside Arthur with a low moan. Francis slid from Arthur. He watched though slightly closed eyes as Francis leaned in to kiss him. He was surprised to find that Arthur moved with him when he shifted.
Arthur set his head against Francis' chest. He listened to Francis' heart beat before he fell asleep. The night had definitely a different change. Francis didn't treat him like a china doll, ready to break if touch wrong. And yet, though happy, Arthur couldn't help but feel like he will regret this in the morning.
.oOo.
I hope you enjoyed the story so far. I love frUK and love, love, love angst. Sorry for no translations, I figured that the sentence they are in made it obvious enough, and if you are a die-hard Hetalia fan (especially a France fan) you'd pretty much have thoughs few phrases down by heart.
Reviews?