This story contains homophobia, severe illness, and character death. Will add more warnings as needed.
It was a clear, windy Autumn's day. The sloping path atop the hill was quiet, the bamboo on either side of said path swaying gently in the wind, enchanting in its movement. Two men were walking up the path; the shorter one jogged hurriedly up the path, a childish smile plain on his beautiful face. The other, taller man walked slowly after him, breathing hard, struggling to get up the path. The smaller man, noticing the others' lagging behind, stopped and turned around, looking down at him.
"Ivan, dear, are you okay?" called the smaller man to his partner, who had stopped in the middle of walking up the large hill to breathe. He was hunched over, hands on his knees, breathing very heavily. The smaller blond walked back downhill to rejoin him. He grabbed the man's gloved hands and pulled him up to a standing position, looking him in his odd, violet eyes, searching them. The taller of the two looked up at his date, smiling slightly and then briskly turning his head to the side to cough heavily into his elbow, then muttering an "I'm fine". The Frenchman quickly pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the other, who gladly accepted it and continued to cough into it.
"Are you sure you're okay? You've been breathing hard like this all afternoon. We can just go eat if you want to," the Frenchman said worriedly to his partner. The other immediately straightened his back at this.
"Nyet, we can't. We have yet to see the tigers, and you really wanted to see them," he asserted, coughing once more into the handkerchief and then trying to smile. His smile dropped when the Frenchman stroked his face and immediately furrowed his brow at the Russian. "Ivan, you're clammy. Are you sick?" the smaller quested, worry painted on his face. Ivan caught his hand and then smiled once more.
"I am not sick, Francis. If you are worried so, then we will see the tigers straight away and then leave right after to eat. Then I will take you home, da?" the Russian smiled at the Frenchman. When he saw that Francis was still frowning, he put his hand on the others face, stroking the smaller man's chin. "I'm fine. Just out of breath. Come," he asserted once again, grasping the other's hand firmly and pulling him up the hill with renewed yet forced vigor.
When they finally happened upon the tigers after walking slowly for a good while to Francis' insistence, Ivan promptly looked at his date to see his reaction, smiling when he saw the Frenchman's face slowly break out into a childish grin of pure elation, followed by him pulling Ivan by his hand into a hurried almost-jog to get a closer look.
The tiger exhibit was large and had numerous beautiful trees. Towards the right end was a large pool where one tiger swam happily, and at the left end was a large rock exposed to the sun where two were sleeping side-to-side. Ivan watched Francis' face as he scanned the entire exhibit, knowing that he was looking for one specific tiger. Ivan knew when he found it when his curious face broke out into a huge grin of pure wonder. He smacked Ivan's arm and pointed into the exhibit, jumping up and down like a small child with excitement, happily exclaiming, "Ivan, cherie, look! There it is! Dieu, she's so beautiful!"
Ivan chuckled and looked at where Francis was pointing, smiling when he saw the Zoo's resident white tigress laying down under a willow tree, her majestic blue eyes half-closed in comfort.
Ivan turned to look back at Francis once more. Upon seeing the blond's happy face, eyes bright with contentedness, he immediately leaned in and kissed Francis on the cheek, making him giggle and look back at him. "Are you happy, Francis?" Ivan asked, gently putting his hand on top of the others' that was resting on top of the fence bar in front of them. Francis smiled ever so gently and replied; "Yes, Ivan. This is the happiest I've been in a long time," before leaning up to Ivan's face and pecking him on the mouth. He quickly resumed looking at the white tigress who was now looking at them with her bright blue eyes. Realizing the perfect picture opportunity, he hurriedly started searching through his satchel for his camera. Once said object was found, he wasted no time in turning it on, taking the lens cap off, and pointing it at the relaxing tigress. Ivan watched him attentively, fascinated with his enthusiasm as he started snapping multiple pictures.
"She's stunning, isn't she?" Francis quested to himself, still taking pictures of the tigress who had taken it upon herself to get up and walk to the pool where one of the other orange tigers still was.
"How do you know that it's a she?" Ivan asked, becoming curious when Francis started blushing and taking more and more pictures. Francis laughed a little to himself before answering.
"Well, I decided earlier to do a little research. I wanted to make sure that this zoo had a white tiger. This one's really popular. Her name's Sita. She was born in Texas and was the only one of her litter to survive. She's four years old now," Francis stated, turning to the other plain orange tigers sleeping on the rock, catching a few pictures of them as well. Ivan's eyebrows raised in confusion as he watched the tigress, Sita, swim lazily through the pool.
"Why would you have to research? Doesn't every zoo have a white tiger?" he asked his date. Francis, who was now satisfied with the pictures he had taken, was turning his camera off and screwing the lens cap back in its place. He looked back into the exhibit before he answered.
"No, actually. There are only about 130 white tigers left. Apparently a good amount of them die as cubs or become ill easily because of inbreeding one has to do to get them. Even orange cubs in litters with white cubs are more likely to die, simply for carrying the gene for the color," Francis answered Ivan, now slightly sad in demeanor. He sighed before continuing; "It's a shame, really, that so much suffering has to be had for such a beautiful thing to come to fruition."
There was silence between the two for a while; an ominous mood had fallen over Ivan at Francis' observance, and Francis was busy looking at the large cats. When all of the tigers were laying down and dozing off about a half hour later, Ivan finally broke his mood and grabbed the sunshine blonds hand. Francis quickly snapped his head to look at Ivan. Ivan simply gave him a gentle smile and a "let's go eat," before pulling him in the general direction of the zoo entrance, Francis close by his side.
They were standing in front of Francis' small house. This was the first time Francis was actually letting him see it; Ivan's being a lawyer with a large salary and house had made him insecure about his own small house and low-paid job teaching art to high school students. Now that Ivan had seen his house though, all anxiety was gone. Ivan would never have judged him for having a small house; he had even said himself that he admired Francis for being a teacher.
They were standing awkwardly, looking at each other. Francis didn't know what to say after such an amazing date; simply saying 'goodbye' would be like ending a phenomenal movie in a cliffhanger. Since he didn't know what to say to the Russian, he simply said the first thing that came to the mind; the thing he wanted most.
"Do you want to spend to spend the night?" he asked anxiously looking up at Ivan, a myriad of things running through his mind. What if Ivan said no? What if Ivan thought he was a whore, even though they had been on three dates? Even worse yet; what if Ivan simply slept with him and never called him again? Old insecurities based on past experiences flooded his thoughts, making him more anxious by the second. When Ivan finally spoke however, it was something that he never expected to hear;
"What about your son? Won't he be, umm, uncomfortable with you bringing another man home?" Ivan asked tentatively, confusion and concern painted clearly on his face. Francis was flooded with such a wave of relief that he laughed, a fluttering, light, and breathy laugh that gave Ivan butterflies simply to hear.
"Non, Ivan, my son is not a concern. Matthew is with his mother until tomorrow morning. We're fine," he answered, looking at Ivan, watching as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly.
"Alright, I'll stay," was all Ivan said before Francis squealed in delight like a teenaged girl and opened the door, dragging him inside. Francis slammed the door behind before pinning Ivan to the adjacent wall and immediately kissing him with energy and passion. Ivan was shocked at Francis' enthusiasm before he kissed him back, letting his eyes slide shut as their mouths moved together, tongues perfectly synchronized. Francis threaded his fingers through Ivan's hair, pulling him down more to his height. Ivan retaliated by moving his hands down to the Frenchman's waist, pulling him closer to him, flush against his body. Francis moaned into his mouth loudly before breaking the kiss and looking up into Ivan's violet eyes, both panting with excitement and desire. Francis giggled when he noticed Ivan's blush that traveled down his neck. Francis' blue eyes sparkled as he smiled before letting out a breathy exclamation of, "Bedroom. Now," before grabbing Ivan's hand once more and pulling him, like he always seemed to do, in the direction of his bedroom. They stopped at a bedroom that had been painted to have large red roses on it. Francis opened it and pulled Ivan once more, throwing him backwards against the crimson-furnished bed in the center of the violet-painted room. Once Ivan found that he was suddenly laying down, feet still touching the floor, Francis straddled his hips, kissing once again as skilled hands quickly made little work of Ivan's plain black dress shirt. He felt the soft skin on the Russian's chest before breaking the kiss and sitting up, pulling Ivan with him so he could slide off both his brown jacket and black shirt. Ivan, fascinated with how eager Francis was, unbuttoned the others cyan dress shirt just as quick, Francis sliding both his black pea coat and shirt off the second the last button was undone. Ivan quickly grabbed his lithe hips before assaulting the others neck, smiling at the moans such an action elicited. He pulled back after a moment and paused to admire the way Francis looked with eyes half lidded, hair slightly disheveled, and relaxed smile coming together to paint a beautiful picture of Francis bathed in moonlight that Ivan paused simply to stare at. Francis noticed his soft gaze after a moment and looked down at him with a smile. Ivan smiled back and leaned close to whisper in Francis' ear.
"I love you, Francis."
Francis paused for a moment, surprised at Ivan's sudden confession before he smiled a wicked and devilish smile, moving to kiss Ivan's cheek and to whisper an, "I love you too, my darling," in his ear before he pushed him down on the bed once more and moved his hands down to unbuckle the Russian's belt.
Ivan awoke the next morning with a start, suddenly gasping for air, his chest tight and painful. He looked quickly at the space just left to him and was overcome with relief to find that it was empty. Francis would only have questions at being woken up by a gasping and sweating Ivan, and Ivan didn't want to answer those questions just yet, lest Francis' think that a relationship with Ivan wouldn't be worth it.
Ivan sat up slowly with a groan, trying to focus on breathing in deeply, letting himself slowly relax. Once he was breathing somewhat normally he got up off of the richly colored bed and started to look around the room for his pants and boxers. Once he found them he hastily pulled them on and walked out of the room, pleasantly surprised when he smelled pancakes cooking. He found his way easily to the brilliantly decorated kitchen, which looked to be the most expensive room in the house; it had granite counters, expensive-looking appliances, and brass pots and pans hanging off of a pan rack over the island. Certainly, it was more fancy than his own; Ivan hardly ever cooked for himself despite the doctor's insistence that he do, instead of eating take-out for every meal. He found Francis standing over the electric stove, clad in a white a-shirt and pajama bottoms with roses on them, diligently working on making pancakes. Ivan promptly walked over to him and hugged him from behind, kissing his cheek as he did so. Francis muttered a "Good morning," as he took three pancakes out of the pan and moved to pour more batter in. Upon noticing Ivan's shirtlessness, Francis immediately gasped and turned around.
"Ivan, where is your shirt?! Bonnie is going to be here any minute with Matthew!" he scolded, waving his spatula at Ivan's dumbfounded face. Ivan grabbed both of his arms and pulled him into a strong hug.
"Relax, dorogoy. I have extra clothes in my car. Oh, do you have any Aspirin?" he asked, letting the smaller blond pull away and look at him. Francis' sighed.
"Yes, there is some Aspirin in the medicine cabinet," he answered before looking up at Ivan once more with tired eyes and hugging him before turning back to the pancakes and continuing, "I'm sorry for snapping at you. Bonnie coming over always stresses me out. Matthew loves his mother so; her spending time with him and leaving for weeks on end always makes him emotional."
Ivan, curious, asked, "Why did you and Bonnie separate anyway?"
Francis sighed deeply as he flipped the slightly burnt pancakes, grimacing. "Well, let's start at the beginning. I'll give you the unabridged version. We met in highschool. She was always a party girl, but I thought nothing of it. Anyway, we were together for a good while. Then she got pregnant when we were both nineteen and in college. We decided to keep the baby, but after a while I guess she realized that she hadn't been ready for a child," an amused snort came from Francis before she continued, "She started drinking more than she should have, to the point where she would shake if she didn't have alcohol in her system, and she was became constantly angry and violent, drunk or not. It got to the point where we separated when Matthew was three. I filed for sole custody soon afterward, and won easily because of her alcoholism. She get's him on weekends occasionally though. She's in AA, trying to stay clean," he paused to take the pancakes out of the pan and pour the last of the batter in, "It's for the best, I guess. Because of my job I can be sure that he always goes to a good school. But that doesn't change her non-permanent role in his life. He needs stability, and Bonnie can't provide that."
Silence fell over the both of them for a while. Ivan took it upon himself to go to his car and grab a plain black shirt and white sweater from the spare clothes in his car. He promptly put them on when, seconds later, an older green Honda pulled up, a red-haired woman driving, with a smaller child with strawberry blond hair that looked like Francis in the front seat. Not wanting an awkward situation, Ivan promptly shut his trunk and walked back to the house, saying a, "She's here," at a worried Francis as he walked to the house's only bathroom, grabbing two Aspirin from the bottle in the medicine cabinet and downing them. He walked back out into the living room, towards the kitchen, to find Francis' ex-girlfriend yelling.
"Francis, who the fuck is that man? Are you insane, having him over when you know Matthew is going to be here?" she yelled at a doting Francis who was busy making a plate for a clearly distressed Matthew, who was sitting at the island.
"Bonnie, calm. He's nice. It's no worse than you having men over when Matthew is staying over," he calmly said, pouring a generous amount of syrup on his son's plate.
"Are you crazy? It is worse! It's bad enough that he has a faggot like you for a father, but letting him see your fuck-buddies is crossing the line!" she yelled, becoming angrier when she noticed Ivan awkwardly standing a few feet from her. Francis glanced over at Ivan, worry lines plain on his forehead. He sighed before addressing the angry Bonnie.
"Bonnie, can you not call me obscenities and swear in front of our son? It's hardly appropriate. Please," he asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of milk.
"I will let my son know what I think of his faggot father whenever I like, thank you. I have half a mind to go to court for this, to get full custody of him. He need not be exposed to your dirty lifestyle," she finished, arms crossed, stance angry. Ivan jumped when he heard Ivan slam Mathew's cup of milk down on the granite counter.
"Really, Bonnie? You think he'll have a better home life living with a stripper who moves motels to work at a new club every week and brings home strange men she doesn't know every night? What lifestyle am I teaching him?!" Francis shouted, clearly angry. Matthew visibly flinched and hid his face in his hands. "I am a fucking art teacher who cares for him the best I can, who pays for his hockey lessons and private schooling, and makes sure he is fed properly and cared for! You are a washed-up drunk who tells her son to lie to his own father for her!"
He relaxed slightly, turning away from the shocked redhead, and refilled the glass of milk, turning once more to set it in front of the distressed Matthew, stopping to hug him and kiss the top of his strawberry blond head. He turned to the silent woman in the room and told her quietly to leave. She promptly turned with a huff and stormed off towards the door, being sure to purposely bump angrily into Ivan on her way out.
There were no words spoken for a moment after; only the sounds of Matthew sniffling and his silverware clinking against the plate permeated the room. Ivan looked toward a disheveled Francis who was rubbing his sons back. Francis made eye contact with him for a moment and sighed, turning toward the pile of pancakes by the stove.
"Ivan, come sit down," he said, as he proceeded to put pancakes on a plate, not bothering to ask Ivan how many he wanted. Ivan walked by hesitantly, taking a seat on the island directly across from the child, who seemed to be completely ignoring him. He promptly put butter and syrup on his pancakes, and was soon joined by Francis sitting next to him, who did the same to his own plate. The three of them ate in silence for a while when Matthew decided to speak up.
"Papa? Who's that?" he said in a small whisper, looking down at his lap, fidgeting with his hands. Francis immediately perked out of his seemingly melancholy mood at the sound of his son's voice. He glanced back at Ivan before answering.
"That's Ivan, mon fils. He's a close friend of mine," he answered the shy child, who was now looking up at Ivan with his steel-blue eyes.
"He's your boyfriend, isn't he? Mama said that boys who have boyfriends or are girly are bad," the child relayed, looking down once more. Francis sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Matthew and smiling.
"Well, cherie, her saying those things are simply an opinion. Tell me, what have we said about opinions?"
"That everyone has them and that they aren't the truth."
"Very good. Remember that. I may have an opinion on her occupation as a dancer, but that does not mean that my words should make her change. Besides, she didn't care about the 'girly' part in high-school. When we were together, she took great pride in making both the boys and girls jealous over her having me," Francis finished, patting Matthew's head, which made the boy smile, "Now, since we've all done eating, perhaps we should go to the park. Would you like to come, Ivan?" the Frenchman asked, smiling his sweet smile at him. Ivan smiled back and placed his hand over the other's that was resting on the counter.
"Of course I would. It sounds like fun, da?"
Author's Notes; This was going to be just one, solid story around 20k-ish words. Halfway through writing this, I realized that the complexity that came through begged for chapters. I hope to be updating ASAP, since I do write every day. I have some points to address, however, before continuing on. I feel that these notes must be made since this is a fanfiction. If this was original, I would've had to make all fo the characters myself. These characters and their relationships are already established for me, so I feel that I must explain certain things so that you, as the reader, aren't completely confused. Anyway;
Foreshadowing is key in this story. Remember that, please.
Francis geeks out over the white tigress because I have a headcanon that he loves white tigers.
The zoo is completely made up, but in my mind's eye it looked akin to the L.A. Zoo, which I have been to.
This story takes place in California.
Bonnie is fem!Scotland. Matthew needed a mother, so I decided on her only because FrancexScotland is another favorite pairing of mine. Her being a homophobic bitch is only because it is needed to further the story and Francis' back story.
Anyway, reviews that contain constructive criticism are helpful. Reviews that contain praise stroke my ego greatly. Either would be fantastic. Suggestions are welcome too, but I cannot promise that they will be heeded.