Arthur sighed to himself as he looked in the cook book again. It didn't specifically say that the potatoes weren't supposed to be a bit over cooked, so he let them boil in his concoction of spices and water. In the oven he had a few game hens roasting with a plume of ash coloured smoke seeping through the cracks. Already the Briton was amazed he hadn't singed his eyebrows and took that as a sign that he was doing something right.
Knocking on the door, Francis gave a smile. He had been delightedly surprised when Arthur had suggested him coming over for dinner. For some reason, he had never had the Englishman's cooking when they were younger.
After making sure the vegetables weren't too firm still, Arthur rushed to the door. Straightening his apron, he then opened it and smiled to see Francis. "Good day." He gestured for him to come inside before shutting the door behind him. "It should only be a few more minutes."
"That is nice. Is... there something burning?" Francis asked, not wanting to offend him but not wanting the house to burn down either.
Sniffing, he just smiled. "The poultry is done." Going over to the oven, he opened it up slowly. Still, black smoke poured out making him cough as he brought the charred birds out. "A little over done I suppose... Though they should be salvageable."
Mouth falling open, Francis went forward to investigate the carnage. "You call that salvageable? No wonder you are so skinny now, you must never eat if this is how you cook!" He didn't want to be rude, but this butchery of the culinary arts was just appalling!
"Well I said they were a little over done! Normally they aren't so crispy, just a bit black..." Arthur explained, looking to the smoking dish on top of the stove. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it isn't good. Sorry, but it's going to take another hour about. The potatoes and vegetables should be ready though."
Sighing, Francis looked around. "It will be easier if I do it. At least I know they will not burn down the house then." He started looking around, just so he could be familiar with the place. "If you wish, you can help." He wouldn't want to take Arthur completely away from his home cooked meal. "Oh, and where are those potatoes and vegetables you were talking about?" He had a feeling the potatoes would be dry and the vegetables would be soggy.
Nodding, the blond opened the pots on the stove to show the overcooked vegetables. "Well, a bit soggy but not too bad I suppose. Unless you wish to start from scratch with everything." With the look Francis gave him, he assumed that would be the answer. "I'll help you find whatever you need."
Smiling, Francis went forward, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you. That will be helpful." They had been on another few dates, so now they were officially a couple. Well, not exactly, because he hadn't stayed over for a night yet, but it was fine like this.
Touching his cheek lightly, the Briton allowed himself to smile gently before asking. "So what do you have in mind for a meal then? I hope it won't take too long since I'm already somewhat snackish."
"'Snackish'? What does that mean?" Francis asked, laughing. He shook his head, dismissing the question. "Never mind. But it depends on what you have here." Quickly he went through a list of things he could make with the things he found there.
Arthur thought for a second before shrugging. "I'm not really sure. I usually dine out." It had become expensive but he worked it into his budget. "I might have some more potatoes and vegetables but I have some more beef in my freezer."
"That will be perfect." Francis decided, taking a look at his minimal supply of spices. It was fine if he was the one actually doing the cooking, even if this was Arthur's house. It was still much more intimate than all the restaurants they had eaten at for their last few dates.
Watching for a few moments as Francis worked his way through the kitchen, Arthur leaned against his table. "So your French blood still shows through you in the kitchen does it? I've noticed you've stopped speaking French as well. Did some bugger bully you about it?"
Waiting for the pot to boil, Francis gave a small sigh. As much as he tried to change it, he was still French. He still belonged all the way back in France. But then he smiled, turning around. "Well, I just figured that there was no point speaking a language no one in England knows."
"Makes sense." He shrugged as Francis went back to preparing them supper. "Now I feel useless. Though I've always been better at baking then cooking. My scones are to die for." Maybe to some it was literal, but he thought they were good.
Laughing, Francis turned the stove down a bit. "I will take your word for that, I guess." He didn't really want to try tasting one, since he hated most English scones. "But I suppose it's appropriate, that you can't cook and you're English."
"I'll have you know that racial slurs about my cooking isn't appreciated from a frog like you." Even with his words the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. "Though I suppose it was just a manner of time."
"You said a racial slur about my cooking." Francis laughed, trying to keep the tension as little as possible. He still didn't like talking much about his time back home, but it was fairly easy to change the topic away from that.
Frowning, Arthur looked aside. "Well, that's different. Your cooking is good at least." Which was definitely the truth if he was able to make something good out of the meager supplies that he had in the kitchen. "Do you need help with anything yet?" He asked, looking back to the attractive blond.
Shrugging, Francis changed the temperature of the stove. "Do you have any cheese other than just cheddar?" He didn't have high hopes though. Not that he minded. As long as they could spend time together, and not starve because Arthur burnt all the food, it would be a good night.
"There are other kinds?" Arthur asked, completely serious. "I might not even have anyways. Can you use something that looks like it? Would that work?" He started to look through his fridge.
"Something that looks like cheese but isn't? Arthur, perhaps you should not eat anything that is in your fridge." Francis said, laughing. "Cheddar will be fine, if you even have that." It didn't make sense to him how people could survive without at least three different types of cheese in the house, but it didn't matter.
Still looking through his fridge, Arthur brought out a small block of cheese. "Will this be enough?" He asked, not quite sure what Francis could do with it. Though, he would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in seeing just what he was planning.
Smiling, Francis leaned over and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "That's perfect. Thank you." He took the block and unwrapped it, then thought for a second. Arthur really seemed to want something to do. "Do you think you can grate this for me?"
"I can." Arthur murmured, cursing himself for getting flustered over such a small thing. Maybe it was just the fact that all his boyfriends when Francis was in France were very forward and not the least bit romantic. It might have also been just because it was Francis and the fact they were now dating again. "I'm still miffed that my dinner didn't end up working out."
"Well no wonder. Do you even have a timer in here? And when I came in, the oven was set to almost the highest setting." There must have been instructions, so did he just not know how to follow them properly? "But it is fine, I love cooking for you."
Arthur concentrated on grating the cheese for a few second, letting the silence wash over them. "I appreciate it Francis." He murmured, looking over to the lean man. "I normally can manage by myself, but my food is never good." Hesitating, he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Francis' waist, putting his face in his shoulder. "You don't know how much I missed you. I must sound like a bloody fruit." The Briton added with a snort.
Giving a laugh, Francis looked down to the blond head on his shoulder. "Well, I suppose we are both fruits. But I do not mind, do you?" Well, he didn't mind now. A few years ago and he had hated the fact that he was so different that his parents had to pull him away from the life he had loved, as well as the person he had loved.
"No... I can't say that I do." He murmured, losing himself in the smell of the Parisian's cologne. "But, even with our more than frequent fights I never regretted the fact that we were together." Arthur sighed as he felt Francis shift in the embrace. "Sorry, I didn't mean to crowd you."
Smiling, Francis bent down and kissed the top of his head. "You weren't, don't worry." He was just so cute sometimes! "But we didn't fight that much, did we?" He asked, trying to remember. He supposed he only remembered the good things.
Snorting, Arthur went to sit down on a chair near the kitchen. "So you remember the first time we spoke was to borrow a pencil, but you forget all our fights?" Though it was nice to start fresh with a new relationship and none of the old ties bringing them down. It wasn't like Arthur could stay angry at Francis this long anyways. Ten years was far too long to hold a grudge.
Francis quickly put the finishing touches on the meal. It wasn't the best he had made, but at least it was edible, unlike what Arthur had made. "Well, are you hungry? Sorry I didn't make dessert, so you can eat all you want for supper."
"It's fine, I wouldn't have expected you to. Not after my own fiasco." Arthur smiled, putting the dish on the table. "You are going to eat as well, right? If you don't I'll make sure to force feed you a bit." With everything Francis did, he would feel terrible if he didn't eat as well.
Going to sit at the table, Francis nodded. "How would this be a romantic home cooked dinner if only one of us eats?"
.oOo.
Once the dinner Francis had prepared was done, Arthur took the dishes from the table and started to wash them. "Don't even think about trying to help after making dinner. You can go and relax in the living room if you wish." He said over his shoulder, already getting started.
"But what is the fun if you are not there?" The Parisian asked, standing and leaning on the counter beside him. Putting a long arm around a thin waist, he smiled as he took a cleaned plate from Arthur's hand and started to dry it.
Shrugging, Arthur smiled lightly as well. "You will find something. You're a resilient Frenchman." It was nice to have Francis around though, so he wasn't about to try and get him to go.
They continued with the dishes, so close they couldn't very well move their arms closest to the other, but neither minded. Francis could clearly smell the Brit's hair, which he remembered from when they were younger. It was a smell he could never have quite forgotten.
Feeling the obvious lingering gaze, Arthur coughed lightly before looking over to him. "You know... If you wish, you could spend the night. Only if it works for you, I mean. I have a pull out couch I could sleep on." He explained, not wanting Francis to take it the wrong way if he didn't want to be closer than just having their arms rub and scents invading the other's nose.
Pausing, Francis thought. It was fairly obvious, despite Arthur's words, that if he stayed they would end up in the same bed, and they would probably go farther than when they were kids. And he had made a decision of what he would do when that happened... He cleared his throat, trying to pretend like it hadn't taken much thought. "Well, I don't have work tomorrow. And if you would like, I could make breakfast."
Nodding, Arthur let himself mold against his boyfriend's side. "That sounds pleasant. So..." He whispered, looking down to Francis' lips for a second before gazing into his pensive eyes. "What would you like to do before bed?"
A thousand perverted thoughts ran through his mind, but Francis just gave an attractive smile. "Whatever you want to do will be fine with me. I am sure anything you thought of would be much better than my ideas." Because his all involved Arthur wearing way less clothes.
"Don't be so daft." The Briton murmured again, leaning forward. Their lips were only centimeters apart and their breath was mingling and curling over their heated skin. "I'm sure you know something that would be worth our time. After all, we never quite got around to proving our affections before."
His body winning, Francis closed the distance between them, his lips moving over incredibly smooth ones. He dropped the cloth into the sink, his hand going to Arthur's burning cheek. The kiss was deepened, by whom they couldn't tell.
Oh I'm such a tease! Anyway, you will have to wait for next chapter for the yaoi. I hope everyone had a good Christmas! Tell us what your favourite present was!