Briar Rose

by TheGuardianKnux

Matthew Williams was excited; he was finally going to the academy of his dreams, Rosa Academy. But, when he runs into an odd looking student, his life will never be the same. Francis Bonnefoy was unlike any other student Matthew would ever meet. He seemed to be frightened by the thorny flora that climbed the castle walls, and ice cold. Would an explanation be worth the price?

10. Tears of Happiness Between Silence

Holding the Brit tightly, Francis sobbed into him like a quivering, pained, tortured mess as they both sat on a library couch. He felt terrified, panicked, and most of all ashamed. He had done things wrong, oh so wrong in his mind. And he truly felt that there was no one to turn to.

"Francis..." Arthur tried to say, looking at him sadly and feeling his heart breaking. "I - I'm sure it's not that bad..."

"H-He hates me! He doesn't feel my undying devotion to his soul!" Francis wailed, squeezing the poor Brit and rubbing at his eyes furiously as he squirmed in pain.

Arthur sighed, patting him on the back comfortingly. "I don't think he hates you, per say... he might just need some time to think a few things over..."

Bolting his head up, Francis snarled angrily, "What things?! I love him, he is supposed to love me, and then we get married in the morning!"

… Arthur almost felt like laughing at how naive that sounded, but considering how seriously Francis took it, he just shook his head instead. "I think I see what the problem is..."

The dramatic blonde grasped his shoulders and demanded hysterically, "What?! What?!"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur flicked him between the eyes. "It's you, you twit!" He sighed and held a hand up to his head before explaining slowly, "Matthew is one to take relationships slow and steady, he's not going to just rush into love at the first signs of it like you!"

Francis stared before tackling and choking the Brition in a hysterical rage, "No one gives me love except for him!" He tried biting at Arthur's flesh viciously, angry tears slipping out in streams, "I am nothing without him!"

"Damn it Francis - get of!" he pushed the hysterical man off of him, standing up and glaring at him. "You need to get a hold of yourself and try and see things from someone else's point of view, for once!"

"What?! That he rejects me and now I shall kill myself, over and over again!?" Francis yelled at him, looking ready to claw Arthur's eyes out.

"No!" Arthur yelled, starting to get frustrated. "I mean try doing what he wants and stay friends!" Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Arthur continued, "Just look at me and Alfred for goodness' sakes - we knew each other practically our whole lives and have just now gotten together, probably after years of wanting that very thing! That's what Matthew wants - to fall in love with a friend after knowing them for a while! Why can't you understand that!?"

"Because I've craved companionship for years!" Francis cried out, "I've wanted someone to love me, to hold me, to treat me kindly, to look at me as more than just an object!" he sobbed furiously, "You mortal men have it so easy! You have the patience to wait, the apprehension, the short lives! But I can never," he grasped Arthur's shoulders and shook him, "Ever have such a blessing! I'll always be alone! Everyone around me will die, fade away, move on! That's why I try so hard to get close quick, before they leave me!" Francis gave another broken sob and fell to the ground, "So that I can bond with them before they're gone forever!"

Arthur stared down at him pitifully, sighing and kneeling down to hug him again. "Francis... You're being a drama queen again." Before the boy could interrupt him, he said, "I understand that living for three hundred years may make it seem like people die within a week to you, but we live for quite a long time... Matthew's still a teenager - he has a long life ahead of him by normal standards. And couldn't you see that you two were progressing pretty fast already? By modern terms, anyways." Shaking his head, Arthur finished with, "You need to decide what's more important, Francis - Matthew, or your petty need to be loved by someone..."

Francis laid still in his arms and processed what he said. Mouth sealing shut, the words piled on him like suffocating bricks as he felt jumbled, too jumbled to reply. So instead, he began to shut down, guilt suffocating him like a flood of water.

Arthur could feel Francis freeze up, causing him to sigh. "You know nothing will come of you shutting down..." he muttered, "I think the best you can do right now is to move past this and try your best to regain your friendship with Matthew. Though I warn you, the progress you've made might be diminished greatly..."

Francis freezed up more as tears flooded down his neutral face and he simply stayed curled up in his ball like form, shutting himself away from all the pain he could as he didn't answer.

Arthur worried his lip, his heart sinking again as he stared down at the broken man in his lap. It was true that all he ever wanted was someone to love him... someone to treat him kindly, and gently - not like an object. Of course he'd want to jump into such a relationship right away... Oh, if only Matthew could understand his pain, he might forgive him...

Sighing, Arthur discreetly took out his phone and sent a text to Alfred: "Is Matthew talking to you yet?"

Yeah. He is. Alfred sent back quickly with a surprising amount of attention to spelling and punctuation, not to mention capitalization.

Keep him there as long as possible, Arthur typed, frowning as he looked at Francis again. I'm going to try and talk to him when I'm done with Francis...

His phone vibrated quickly as Alfred asked, Emotional breakdown code five: serviere?

Big time.

Get the funnel if he forgets how to eat again.

Despite everything happening at the moment, Arthur still smiled and took a moment to appreciate how Alfred could always lift his spirits up. Will do, Captain America.

Thanks, Sherlock. 3 Alfred replied.

Sighing contentedly, Arthur put his phone back in his pocket and returned to the matter at hand - or, rather, the Frenchman at lap.

~!~!~!~

"I mean, what does he expect of me?" Matthew complained to Alfred after having explained what had happened earlier with... Francis, and him kissing him. Twice. He was slumped over on the counter as the American listened, feeling sort of depressed. "Did he really expect me to just jump into his arms or something?!"

Rummaging through some kitchen cabinets while standing on a rolling chair, Alfred pondered this before explaining bluntly, "Well, considering Francis is all sensitive and will ball out his eyes at the drop of a hat..." He spun around and stared at Matthew with a slightly stern look, "Then what do you think, Celine Dion?"

"... Celine Dion?" Matthew repeated, trying to shrink himself as guilt overwhelmed him. But why should he be feeling guilty! It was Francis' fault for... doing that. It wasn't his fault that he didn't feel the same way! So he shouldn't be worrying about Francis and imagining him crying for hours... welling up in his sadness and not seeing any way out of it..

"She's Canadian, you're Canadian," Alfred explained dismissively, lazily motioning with a hand and going back to his kitchen rummaging, "I'm Captain America, Arthur's Sherlock, Francis is The Phantom, Ivan's practically the KGB, and then I call Toris, Link," Alfred gave himself a smile and then quickly surfed his way over to the other side of the kitchen and added, "Anyways, dude, Franny is probably in a depression hole that he'll stay in for months or something."

"Well that's not my fault!-!" Matthew screamed, sitting up and slamming his hands on the counter, frowning. "I just reacted like any normal, reasonable person would!-!"

"Well, your problem is that the person you are dealing with isn't reasonable or normal." Alfred retorted bluntly, not looking up from his haste, "And I'd say especially on the not reasonable part at the moment."

Groaning, Matthew slammed his head down again, covering it up with his arms. "Why is this happening to me..." He knew Alfred was right. No matter what he said, Francis wasn't going to listen to it... unless he said "I love you." But he can't do that!-! His heart wasn't at that point yet...! It would be more cruel to proclaim false feelings then telling the truth, wouldn't it?

"Because Mattie, they say adventure is out there," Alfred rolled up to him and tousled the Canadian's hair, the American giving him a look of sympathy, "And adventure evidently wanted to smack you in the face. But," he paused dramatically, "Besides that, you can at least have comfort that you both messed up, right?"

Scoffing, Matthew mumbled, "Oh please, as if that's going to let us solve anything." Lifting his head to look up at Alfred, he almost looked angry. "You're right - Francis is unreasonable. And because of that, things are just going to stay as awkward as they come because he won't forget about this." Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, he continued, "He's just going to keep wallowing in the fact that I don't like him that way, and it will show on his face, and I'm just going to get madder and madder every time I see it..." He started shaking as he said lowly, "We'll never be able to be friends again..."

"Well I wouldn't go that... Far..." Alfred muttered, feeling his confidence dropping before sighing in frustration and taking his glasses off, slamming them down on the counter and snapping, "Look dude, can I just be blunt with you for a few minutes?!"

Matthew took a deep, calming breath before saying, "Sure, why not? That's all everyone here seems to be good at - being blunt."

"Yeah well, you came to a school with blood sucking flowers and shit, so what do you expect?!" Alfred yelled slightly, throwing up his hands into the air, "We can't necessarily sugar coat all this crap that happens alright?!"

"Well I didn't know how messed up this school was!-! Now did I?!" Matthew yelled at him, huffing. "All my life i've wanted to come here to become someone - to get a good education and do the things I love! I didn't know all of this other stuff was here!"

"Yeah!? Well, that's life for ya!" Alfred answered with a frustrated growl, "And I get why you're uncomfortable, and pissed, and all this other stuff, but we have to face facts here!" grasping Matthew by the shoulders, he shook him slightly, "We only have so much time! Eventually we graduate and have to move on! And you know what sucks about that?! Francis won't age or leave with us, he'll just be trapped here, wishing he could have done something, anything to pay you back for all that precious time he felt he had stolen from you to help him break free, or it were to never happen!"

Matthew stared at him, feeling his heart sink. "... I know," he said quietly, feelings water edge his eyes again. "I know there's only so much time, and I know it's bad that he can't age or leave... but I don't understand why romance has to be a part of it!" He closed his eyes, looking down. "I should just be focusing on sword training, and maybe helping break the actual curse as well... He wouldn't have to "repay" me for anything because I would want to help! Just being his friend..." He smiled slightly before wiping his eyes, "Is already adventure enough."

Alfred sighed in relief and from letting a high amount of tension out of his body. Sitting down on his rolling chair, he ran his hands stressfully through his hair and replied quietly, "I know it is. But," he looked up into Matthew's eyes, his gaze full of pained emotion, "Have you ever thought of what it would be like to love something, so much, with all your heart and never have that returned back for you... Especially if you're always alone?"

Sighing, Matthew rubbed the back of his head, trying to imagine just that... He would imagine it would feel horrible, but he couldn't really understand it fully... He didn't have an example from his own life.

He closed his eyes then, and started thinking about himself being in a room, all alone, with nothing and no one inside... Wanting nothing more than to... just have a friend, someone to talk to, someone to listen to him, someone to have fun with...

And then, one finally comes. Someone finally comes and acts nice to you, and you're so thankful to them and love them so much just because they're there - being with you after being so alone, so neglected... You just want to always be near them, laughing and smiling always, since they fill you with such happiness just by being there.

And you tell them that, your feelings, and they... don't feel the same...

Feeling his heart break as he snapped his eyes open again, Matthew laid his head down on the counter again and asked, sounding completely broken now, "Then what do you think I should do...?"

Alfred gave him a calm look and then petted Matthew's hair comfortingly, replying, "I'm not saying you have to admit that you love him, or kiss him on the lips, or any of that stuff," Alfred took a deep breath, "I think... Telling him that you aren't mad at him, and that you still care about him, that your friendship isn't ruined, and that you forgive him are some things you can do..." Alfred gave a sad look, "Because right now, he may be on the verge of just giving up, and never coming back to us on a mental and emotional standpoint."

Taking a deep breath and smiling a little, Matthew replied, "I think I'll do just that... it better work, though..." he snorted to himself before mumbling, "especially considering we share a bed."

Alfred gave a soft chuckle and then spotted something behind Matthew. Grabbing what it was, he cheered and fist pumped, "Yes! I found the funnel!"

Blinking at him, Matthew creased his eyebrows together. "Funnel? For what?"

"In case Francis forgets how to eat if we snap him out of this." Alfred replied simply.

"... That could happen?" Matthew asked, frowning.

"Yep," Alfred answered, smile gone, "Matthew, I wasn't joking about him possibly being very broken this time."

". . . Oh," Matthew muttered, starting to feel his insides scrunch up as he imagined Francis so wrecked that he tried to kill himself again. "... Where, uh, would he be, then...?"

"With Arthur, probably curled up in a shutdown ball with a blank stare," Alfred replied, turning away from him and picking up his glasses.

Crossing his arms, Matthew frowned even more. "Then I should go talk to him right now, huh?"

"If you don't want him to uncover his guillotine, then yes, yes you should." Alfred answered, grasping Matthew's wrist.

Matthew paled as he imagined the horrible torture device, as well as a previous mental image of Francis walking around without a head. His knees began to wobble as he said shakily, "Oh God..."

"Exactly," Alfred replied, giving a pained expression and beginning to hurry, "C-Come on!"

Matthew followed after him, biting his lip as his mind started filling itself with all sorts of terrifying images involving Francis, blood, and tears... so, many, tears... And crying, agonizing screams as he constantly degraded himself and yelled at himself for messing everything up.

Eventually he started running faster than Alfred and calling for him to hurry up.

Alfred hurried after him, yelling in surprise.

Not knowing where to go, Matthew just ran down every library aisle, having a sneaking suspicion that they would be in here as well... It seemed like the library was always empty, unless here was a big exam coming up, so Francis and the rest of his friends probably enjoyed it for the solitude it provided.

Soon, he heard heart-wrenching sobs, and he knew they were Francis' based on purely how... broken they sounded.

Arthur was still holding the sobbing form close, with a tired and worn expression as Francis sobbed his heart out. He had just been crying like that for a good ten minutes... And there was nothing really Arthur could say to console him. He happened to look up, though, and see Matthew, surprise evident on his face. He smiled when he saw the quiet boy look at him sheepishly and wave a little bit, tiptoeing over to them as he held a finger in front of his mouth to tell him to be quiet.

Arthur let out a little breath of relief, assuming that Matthew was here to talk some sense into the hysterical Frenchman. Who knows, maybe their relationship will turn out stronger because of all this...

He smiled a little more as he realized that Alfred must have done a good job talking to him. He'll admit that he hadn't expected the American to be able to handle this situation... but he definitely had to thank him later.

Meanwhile, Matthew creeped along until eventually he was standing right next to Francis and Arthur, biting his lip as he stared down at Francis sadly, his heart breaking as he saw just how drained and despondent Francis looked... Gently, he placed a hand on the crying boy's shoulder and whispered, "Francis...?"

Said boy flinched and rubbed his throat, eyes darting around and looking for the source of Matthew's voice, trembling greatly.

"... Please stop crying," Matthew continued, squeezing his shoulder slightly. "You're not as beautiful when you cry..."

Francis gave him a blank stare and shifted, clutching himself and his hair and gazing into Matthew's eyes fearfully, shaking like a leaf.

Taking a shallow breath, a little put off by Francis' stare, Matthew started out quietly, "I... I'm not mad at you... okay? After... thinking for awhile, I realized that... I can't really blame you for anything." He smiled weakly and finished, quite lamely, in his opinion, with, "And if you're up for it, I'd be more than happy to stay friends with you..."

Francis stared for a moment, then quickly hugged Matthew and tried to kiss him desperately, incredibly thankful that the one he loved didn't hate him. He soon felt his lips being pinched together, however, a mere few inches away from Matthew's face.

"N-no, no no," Matthew told him, blushing slightly but still shaking his head. He started talking as if he was scolding a child, "None of that, Francis... Friends only kiss each other on the cheeks, all right?"

Francis gave a blank stare and nodded, beginning to shake more and curl in on himself.

Sighing, Matthew took the initiative and kissed him on the cheek before hugging him, whispering, "Stop being so hard on yourself..."

The blonde gave a soft nod and hugged Matthew tightly, as if for dear life, and hid his face in the crook of his neck.

"... Come on, let's go back to the room," Matthew said, unsure of what else to do now. "I probably have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."

Francis gave another nod, refusing to let go as he trembled, still crying slightly.

Matthew led him slowly out of the library, passing Arthur and Alfred and smiling at them slightly. "Thanks, Alfred," he told him with a little salute.

Alfred gave him a warm smile and replied with his own salute, "That's Captain America to you, Miss Dion."

Matthew laughed slightly before grinning, throwing over his shoulder as he kept leading Francis by the hand, "Have fun with Sherlock, Captain. I wonder what kind of things you'll get up to with me and the Phantom gone."

Blushing slightly, Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Ha ha ha, very funny, Matthew."

"Solving mysteries~" Alfred replied with a wink, sticking out his tongue and wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist.

His face turning just a slide deeper shade of red, Arthur looked at the ground shyly before smiling. "I suppose..."

Clicking his tongue, Alfred leaned over and kissed Arthur tenderly.

Breath catching, he hesitated for just a second before kissing him back. "I told you I'd try..." He muttered, chuckling. "And I have to say, I didn't expect you to be able to talk to Matthew so well..." he added, glancing at the boy who was now out of the library, his moody friend in tow.

Alfred's smile faltered as he gave a slightly distressed look and sighed, "I-I-" He then hugged Arthur tightly and admitted to him, "I'm scared, Arthur."

Surprised, Arthur hugged him back tightly, whispering in his ear, "Of what, love?"

Alfred sat down with Arthur and continued to hug him tightly and hide his face in the Brit's neck and replied softly, "Of-of- Helping him!"

Frowning slightly, Arthur looked him in the eyes. "Why...?"

"W-What if we never do anything - w-which means I failed!" Alfred wailed, hugging him tightly and shaking.

Alfred sighed and laid his head on top of his. "Oh, Alfred..." He closed his eyes and buried his face into the boy's soft hair, saying quietly, "I can't guarantee anything, you know that... but we just have to keep trying. We can't be afraid of failure... and we can't just not try."

"I-I know... B-But I want them to be happy..." Alfred whimpered, trying to rub at his eyes, "Why aren't they happy?"

Chuckling slightly, Arthur assured, "They will be. Very soon, I think... but for now, I think they seem pretty happy."

"I can tell one of them doesn't seem to to be though..." Alfred whimpered more, nuzzling into Arthur's chest.

Arthur snickered a little. "That git'll never be happy..." He gently moved Alfred up so he could kiss him, smiling warmly into his eyes, "It's sweet of you to care so much, love, but there's not really much we can do about it. These things take time..."

Alfred pouted childishly and kissed back, giving a frustrated look as he agreed begrudgingly, "I guess so... And stuff..."

Arthur laughed at him before patting his head and ruffling his hair. "Look, if you're really so worried, why don't you help me figure out a way to break the curse?" He smirked before whispering in his ear, "If you find anything, I'll give you a treat~"

Alfred's eyes widened and began to sparkle as his cowlick wiggled. Licking his lips hungrily, he asked, "Really, really, really?!"

"What possible reason would I have to lie to you?" Arthur asked, laughing at his reaction before standing up.

Alfred bounced up and nodded quickly, smooching Arthur and then speeding down the library rows, yelling excitedly, "I'll go get my pistols!"

"... Pistols?" Arthur asked curiously, following after him.

Alfred popped his head out with a giggle and replied bluntly, "I'm a sharpshooter! I don't just own my toy cork guns!"

"I know that, but... what would you use the pistols for?"

"Target practice, so I can help!" Alfred replied happily, hugging Arthur and dragging him down to a certain book shelf before pulling a book with a grin, "And there's something I haven't shown you yet."

Raising a brow curiously, he asked, "What is it...?" as he peered down at the book in his hands.

"My hidden Justice Destiny Strike Freedom Weapon's room, of course!" Alfred replied, releasing the book and giving an excited grin.

"... I'm still not understanding how this would help with the curse..."

Alfred threw Arthur over his shoulder and proclaimed, "Because I am an eccentric, rich, playboy philanthropist like Bruce Wayne!"

Arthur sighed and laid against Alfred's back. "I still don't get what you're blathering on about! What does this have to do with anything...?"

"So I can protect him, duh!" Alfred replied, running into the secret room hidden behind two bookshelves, "It's imppoooooorrrtttaaannnnttt Artieeeeeee!"

Smiling at Alfred's childishness, Arthur asked brightly, "You just really want to be the hero, don't you?"

Alfred paused and replied lovingly, "Yeah... I do, even though I know Matthew's the hero in this story, and I'm just his lancer."

"... Well... if it's any consolation," Arthur said quietly, blushing and smiling sheepishly as he admitted, "You're my hero..."

Alfred blinked in surprise before tearing up, bringing Arthur back down and hugging him tightly while beaming, "I-I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," Arthur told him, smiling and kissing him again.

Alfred purred and kissed him back, cowlick wiggling.

Arthur smiled into the kiss and, without breaking it, started walking backwards into his secret room. "Come on, then," he mumbled against his lips, "Show me all your weapons."

Alfred grinned wildly, showering Arthur with excited smooches and bringing him over to a handgun display on the right side of the high-tech room.

Laughing a little, Arthur looked at it with intrigue. "Why is that one displayed like that?"

"Oh those? Those are my babies~" Alfred says with a loving sigh, taking down four identical hand guns that had intricate designs on them as well as charms, "The set is called Scarborough Fair," Taking one down, he explained by pointing at it's colored core, and the charms on the end, "Each one is named after a plant from an ancient British ballad."

"... British?" Arthur asked knowingly, smirking slightly. "When did you get those guns?"

Alfred gave a dreamy sigh and answered, "This year~" He stared at the green centered one, going from green to pink to blue to yellow and listing their names, "They're parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme~" He then purred, stroking parsley, "And they are the sexiest British weapons I have ever laid my eyes on~ Why are Brits so sexy~?"

Chuckling, his ego inflated, Arthur crossed his arms and replied, "We just are, love. We just are."

Nodding slowly, Alfred replied, "I can believe that~" He took down the other guns and then an odd holding device attached to a pair of... Stiletto boots?

"Alfred, why is there boots on your weapon...?"

"Because I do hand and leg combat, especially with my guns!" Alfred grinned, slipping the boots on and grasping the other two guns after having set up the ones for his boots, "And as to why they're high heeled, it's to practice my balance!"

Arthur just stared at him for a second before sliding a hand down his face. "God, you're so weird..."

"Awww! Thanks my little crumpet... But um... There's something else I have to admit..." Alfred replied, biting his lip and giving a tense look, "I'm... Uh...Um... Well, demon slayer..."

"... Demon slayer?" Arthur repeated narrowing his eyes.

Alfred gave a nervous nod and stammered, "Y-Yeah... I hunt... demons... On Friday nights... These guns are meant for.. Um.. Witches... Which I could possibly be..."

Arthur felt himself start to shake as he clenched his fists, trying to ask calmly, "Is that so...?" but failing miserably. He couldn't believe what he was hearing...! Was this really all true!? That would explain why he never wanted to hang out on Friday nights...

Stammering more, Alfred nodded hurriedly, "W-Well, why do you think my family is rich? W-We hunt demons for money..."

Arthur closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Why did you wait until now to tell me this...?"

"W-Well, I didn't know if you'd take it all that well, knowing I was a witch or something and then maybe you wouldn't believe me-"Alfred began to ramble, trembling.

"I had the same fears, you know," Arthur interrupted, frowning. "But I still told you I was a magician!"

"Y-Yeah! But demons and angels like to kill us witches, not magicians!' Alfred cried out in fear, placing his guns on the table and cowering in front of Arthur, "And humans don't exactly like us either... Magicians get to go to a lot more parties than witches..."

Arthur sighed, holding a hand up to his head and stating, "What are you talking about? What partis?" He creased his eyebrows together as he asked quietly, "Do you mean to say you were worried that I might be killed if I found out about you...?"

"N-No!" Alfred replied, hugging him tightly, "I was just afraid you'd call me an evil, gun toting mercenary who knows a lot about the supernatural!"

Not being able to help himself, Arthur burst into laughter. "Wh-why in the world would I call you, YOU of all people evil!? And really, Alfred? Gun-toting mercenary?"

"Mercenary sexy witch assassin!" Alfred cried out, hugging Arthur by his legs, face first on the floor in tears, "Who looks good in cat suits made of his own hair, and wears nice boots, and knows how to eat a spaghetti taco!"

Arthur sighed and bent down, petting his hair. "Alfred, you're not making any sense..."

Alfred sniffled and looked up with big, watery eyes, "Yeah I am... Don't you know a witch's hair is his or her's best and most powerful weapon?!"

".. No..."Arthur admiitted, smiling sheepishly. "I never really did much studying up on witches, I'm afraid... They didn't seem that... interesting..."

Alfred gave him a shocked looked and objected, sobbing furiously, "I'm interesting! My hair can turn into evil pagan forces and eat people, sending them to Hell and stuff!"

"... Y-yes, that sounds very interesting..." Arthur said, biting his lip. "What else can you do...?"

"Use weapons made of slayed demons, can use an ability of slowing incoming bullets down, make pretty good lasagna, using my hair as a body suit..." Alfred blushed slightly at the last fact, glancing away.

Arthur chuckled at his embarrassment, ruffling his hair again. "I've always thought you had great hair..."

Alfred blushed a little more and then closed his eyes, letting his usually short hair extend out and wrap around Arthur lovingly, almost like a sea of tentacles, petting and squishing Arthur's face as he asked shyly, "Really?"

Arthur laughed a bit nervously, glancing at the hair all around him. He'll admit that it felt a little weird... but good, he supposed... "Y-yes, it's very soft..." he managed to say, though he sounded kind of uncomfortable.

Alfred laughed and hugged him, letting his hair fall down his back and twitch, "Thanksies~"

Laughing again and holding a hand up to run it through his own hair, Arthur mumbled, "My boyfriend is a witch... What do I tell me mum?"

"That I'm a sexy witch?" Alfred suggested, eyes sparkling as some locks of his hair lifted up to Arthur's face and molded into a rose, "And that I like haggis?,

Arthur laughed as he took the hair rose and pretended to sniff it. "Well, she'll like the haggis part at least."

"Won't your brothers you hate like that too?" Alfred asked curiously, giving a wry smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "They're just torture me for having a boyfriend in the first place."

"And I'll devour their souls hungrily if they do!" Alfred replied cheerily.

"... Alfred, dear," Arthur began slowly, looking him dead in the eye, "Don't eat my family's souls..."

Alfred gave a slight pout and whined, "But the Infernal Demons in my hair get hungry... And you don't like your brothers..."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry, but no. … And what have you been feeding your demons anyways?"

"Hamburgers!" Alfred cheered, hugging Arthur tightly and laughing, "That's why I eat so much!"

"... You're serious?" Arthur asked, hugging him back.

"Completely! Gomorrah loves them!" Alfred explained simply, as if talking about the weather.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had so many questions to ask Alfred later... but for now, one thought came to his mind, so he said, "Okay, tonight's going to be full of questions, Alfy, but for right now," he looked him in the eyes, saying seriously, "You're a witch... just like the creature that cursed Francis. Would you be able to inspect him a little closer? Find out what exactly is the magic's weakness?"

Alfred paused, then gave him a calm look, nodding, "I can do that. After all, I need to know which clan this sorceress is from."

Arthur smiled, letting out a breath of relief. "That's so good to hear! We might be so much closer to solving this!" He then gave him a stern look before rapping him on the head. "Why didn't you come forth with this information sooner!?"

Alfred stiffened, quivering and stammering, "W-Well I'm young, and still in training, and in awkward witch puberty-"

"Awkward witch puberty?" Arthur asked, dumbfounded. "What the bloody hell is that?!"

Alfred blushed darkly and squeaked, backing up against a wall as Arthur gave him a stern look.

"Alfred, you have to tell me now..." he said seriously, placing his hands on either side of him to keep him there. He was smirking inside, though - he had to admit that he looked incredibly cute when he blushed like that.

"B-But it's embarrassing..." Alfred whined, blushing more and pouting slightly, "Artieeee!"

Arthur chuckled a bit and, feeling bold, leaned in and nipped at his pouting lips. "Stop pouting and just tell me already."

Alfred squeaked more, replying in a strained, low tone, "It's w-where you have to suffer being female for three weeks in July, each year, around my birthday till I'm eighteen."

… You have to give Arthur credit. He managed to last a whole one second before he fell to the ground in hysterical laughter, holding his stomach as he asked, "Is th-that why I walked in on you w-wearing a dress!?"

"Y-Yes..." Alfred muttered, "It's not a drastic change... And besides," he lowered his voice more, "I'm flat chested anyways..."

Snickering, Arthur teased, "That's all right - you'd still make a pretty g-girl, Alfred." He laughed more, his sides starting to hurt.

"Wanker!" Alfred cried out, blushing more and stamping a foot, "And I am MANLY, thank you!"

"And what should I get you for your birthday, then?" Arthur continued his torment, still laughing. "A purse? A dress? Ooh, you might look dashing in some lingerie~" He laughed harder and curled up into a ball, finding the whole thing incredibly amusing.

Squirming with embarrassment at his perverted suggestion, Alfred felt horribly flustered and tormented as he whined, "B-Baka!"

Still chuckling, Arthur managed to slowly stand himself up. "I'm sorry, Alfred..." he smirked, "Or should I say, Allie?"

"Shut up!" Alfred whined more, shaking and feeling more embarrassed, "You perverted Tsundere!"

Arthur's eye twitched as the insult, but instead of yelling he just chuckled and muttered, "No wonder you ship UKUS so hard..."

"W-Why would you say that?!" Alfred demanded, eyeing a small door in the secret room nervously.

Chuckling, Arthur walked over to him and trapped him against the wall again, leaning in and whispering seductively, "Because, everyone knows the man tops."

Blushing a crimson red, Alfred stared at him in embarassed horror and squirmed, thrashing about as he yelled, "You're a huge pervert, Arthur!"

"You're the one who's always wanting to roleplay," Arthur said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his shoulders and held him in place. "Besides..." smirking he leaned in and breathed over his lips, "Don't tell me you don't enjoy this at least a little bit..."

"Not when you're teasing me about having to be a chick three weeks out of the year!" Alfred retorted, giving a childish glare.

Arthur chuckled a bit before he realized something. "... Wait, do you actually want me to act like this more often?" he asked, sounding more like the gentleman he tried to be instead of the previous act he had been putting on.

Becoming more flustered, Alfred wiggled and squirmed more and whined at him, "I don't know!"

"..." Arthur found himself grinning as he said, "Well... I suppose I could act like that once in a while..." He laughed before saying, "And considering you did find something to help Francis... I do owe you a treat..." he smirked before leaning in and whispering into his ear, "And I promise, I won't tease you about being a girl anymore..." He bit his ear then, blushing a little as he realized that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Alfred's temperature flared up as his nose started to bleed, his knees wobbling before he collapsed and whimpered, "Arthur!"

Completely shocked by Alfred's reaction, the Brit kneeled down and smiled sympathetically. "Heh, sorry, love..."

Alfred glared at him and made a "Hmph!" noise, pouting crossing his arms as he turned away from him stubbornly.

Arthur rolled his eyes before taking a tissue out of his inside jacket pocket and handing it to him. "Don't act so mad, dear... You've got a little something coming out of your nose again," he grinned before deciding to wipe the blood off of him himself. "So I know you must have enjoyed something..."

"Baka!" Alfred cried out at him like an accusation as he squirmed and blushed more, "Perverted baka!"

Arthur's eye twitched from his comment, but instead of yelling at him he just smiled devilishly and asked lowly, "Does this mean you don't want your treat...?"

Whipping around, he cried out desperately, clawing at Arthur's pants to lift himself up, "No! I want it! Pwease pwease pweaaaaaassee!?"

Laughing, he asked, "I figured as much - so, what do you want?"

"I want some of your sccccooonnnees!" Alfred begged excitedly, nuzzling Arthur's legs.

The magician laughed at his witchy boyfriend before smirking. "Well, all right, I'll be happy to make them for you..." he leaned down and whispered coarsely, "But just for the record, that wasn't the kind of treat I had in mind when I made the offer..."

Alfred's face flushed more and he clamped his mouth shut, whining slightly and curling up into a ball, "Stupid sexy Brit..."

Arthur laughed. "Thanks, love~" he chuckled before picking him up bridal style. "That's funny - usually it's me saying stupid sexy yank."

Alfred hid his face in Arthur's chest, mumbling incoherently.

Arthur chuckled as he started walking out of Alfred's secret gun room. Not being able to help himself, he said, "Well, it makes sense I guess - since usually you're not a girl."

Alfred glared up at him then smirked, speaking French to him.

"... Why are you talking in that horrid language?" he asked, eye twitching again.

"To get back at you, pervert~" Alfred answered in French, smirk widening.

Arthur sighed before humming to himself. "I don't really feel like kissing you anymore, what with that horrible accent."

Alfred gave a horrified look, and asked in his best British accent, "P-Please!?"

". . ." Arthur froze for a second before blushing and nuzzling against Alfred's cheek, rambling, "Oh, you sound so adorable like that!-! I can never resist you when you talk like that - it's just so... so..." He blushed a bit more before kissing him, resuming his walking as he mumbled, "Sexy."

Alfred gave a smirk that fell into a goofy smile as he asked, keeping the accent up, "R-Really, governor?"

Chuckling a bit, he kissed him a little deeper, licking his bottom lip slightly. "Really, love~"

"I love it when you say love~" Alfred whispered airly, kissing back weakly.

Chuckling, Arthur just kept on carrying him out of the room, smiling and feeling giddy with happiness. He couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have someone like Alfred... He might not be perfect, but he was as good as he could ask for.

"Good," Arthur finally said, kissing him again. "Because I love you."

Alfred just gave a happy purr and meowed at him, smiling goofily as Arthur carried him all the way to his room.

~!~!~!~

Gazing up at Matthew with large, watering, puppy dog eyes, Francis held a book out to him with a begging look which was: a simple picture book about Rapunzel.

Evidently from Francis' meltdown before, the blonde had reverted to an odd, child like state. He wasn't talking, (from all that sobbing it seemed), and he would cling to Matthew as though his life depended on it, and also seemed to not want to let go...

And now, he wanted Matthew to read to him.

Sighing, Matthew took the book from his hand grudgingly and peered down at it. "You want me to read to you now?" he asked slowly, shifting his arm for the millionth time to keep it from cramping up or going to sleep from Francis' hold.

Francis gave an enthusiastic nod, his curl molding into a heart as his eyes shined.

Matthew smiled a little at how cute that made him look before sighing and cracking open the book, turning around to glance at the window seat before asking, "Can we read by the window, at least? That's something I've always dreamed of - reading on a window ledge." He should probably stop giving in to Francis' requests sometimes... But he just couldn't help it - he always looked so sad.

Francis gave an excited nod and took him over to the window ledge, nuzzling Matthew's arm. The blonde then went over to his bookshelf and brought back a stack of picture books, giving Matthew even more pleading looks to read them all to him.

". . . Francis..." Matthew started, slumping over dejectedly as he sat down on the window. "I can't read all of those to you... Pick three." He felt like a mother scolding their child as he said that... which he supposed was fitting for how the Frenchman was acting.

Francis gave him a childish pout and huffed, blowing his hair out of his face and rummaging through the stack. Picking out three, he handed them over to Matthew, and then... Slipped in a fourth, the Frog Prince.

"Hey, I said three," Matthew told him, rolling his eyes. "I know you can count."

Francis pouted more and kept holding it out, giving Matthew a challenging look. Furrowing his brow, he stuck out his tongue and refused to put the book back.

Shaking his head, Matthew just put one of the other books back. "I said three, Francis. And when I say three, I mean three."

Sitting beside Matthew, the blonde rolled his eyes, giving him a look that said, "I don't believe you!"

Matthew poked him between the eyes and stuck his tongue out at him. "Fine then, I just won't read any to you if you're going to be like that."

Giving him a pleading look, his curl shifted into a bent shape and he squeezed Matthew's arm.

Chuckling slightly at him, he opened Rapunzel up again. "Okay, okay - hold on, I'll read it to you."

Francis' eyes lit up and he hugged Matthew, gazing down at the book happily.

"Once upon a time," Matthew began, smiling, "there was..." as he continued reading, he couldn't help but find it amusing how attentive Francis was to him. The look made him start doing various voices for each of the the characters, and acting very dramatic as he quoted the pages. He had always loved getting into the part, even if it was for a book and not a play.

Once he finished the book, Francis clapped, hugging Matthew tightly after he did so and nuzzling his waist happily.

Blushing slightly from the affection, Matthew laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Glad you liked it..."

Francis nodded vigorously and pointed to the second one.

Matthew sighed a little before picking up the next one. "All right... what's this one, anyways?"

Francis raised a brow and pointed at the title, showing Matthew it was the story of Cinderella.

"Wow, you really like fairy tales, huh?" Matthew asked as he opened it up and skimmed through it. "I heard the original Grimm Tales version of this is bloody, though - the sisters actually cut off parts of their foot to fit the slipper on."

Francis gave an innocent grin and pointed out that that was, indeed, the version he had picked out.

Blowing his bangs out of his eyes, Matthew frowned. "Oh great, more blood..." He was about to start reading when he heard a tap on the window. Looking out, he saw that it was Lily. "Oh, hello there," he greeted the flower, smiling. "Do you want to come in?" He giggled as he saw the flower bob her bud in an almost excited manner, opening the glass immediately and watching with fascination as she slithered in. "I'm afraid our prince can't talk right now, Lily."

Francis saw the flower and hugged her gently, letting out silent giggles as she tickled his face with her roots and nuzzled his cheek with her bud.

Giggling, Matthew opened Cinderella again and began reading the story for two people now. He had a little trouble when he got to the blood part, though, but thankfully it wasn't that descriptive.

Once it finished, Lilly nuzzled Matthew's cheek and made a sucking type motion on his cheek, like a vacuum. He just laughed before taking her gently by her stem and kissing the top of her petals softly. "Thanks, I'm glad you liked it."

She seemed flustered, and bowed her bud, her stem wagging like a dog's tail.

Matthew laughed at her actions, feeling a weird sort of happiness bubble up inside him. "I thought you liked the prince?" he asked teasingly.

Francis gave them both a jealous look, blushing at Matthew when he did so, and turned, crossing his arms and pouting.

Matthew sighed when he saw Francis being obstinate. "Oh, come on - what are you mad about now?"

Francis pointed at his cheeks and gave a huff, glaring up at Matthew and feeling dejected.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Matthew said, sighing. "You're jealous of a flower?"

Nodding, Francis turned away from him more and stuck his nose up into the air, giving a "hmph!"

Matthew shook his head before leaning forward and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "The things I do for you..."

Francis smiled cheerfully, and kissed both of Matthew's cheeks, nuzzling his face and then giving him an eskimo kiss.
Lilly wrapped around his head and gave a pantomimed sigh of sorts, nuzzling the childish boy's head.

The other boy just sighed as he picked up the third book, The Frog Prince. "I've never actually read this one," Matthew explained as he skimmed it over.

Francis squeezed his waist in excitement and rested his head on Matthew's shoulder, curl wiggling.

Matthew sighed as he began reading the story, finding it very fascinating. He had always thought the story entailed a princess kissing the frog to turn him back, but in this a princess just had to have the frogged prince eat off her plate and sleep in her bed for three nights!

"Well, that was interesting," he commented as he finished. "The princess is a little shallow though - liking him after he turns into a handsome prince and getting married right away like that..."

Francis gave a nod of agreement, shooting the princess a distrustful look and then sticking out his tongue.

Matthew chuckled at his response before shutting the book and yawning. "Why am I the one who's tired? You're the one who should be sleepy since I just read to you."

Francis gave an amused look, nuzzling Matthew's neck and tugging his arm.

Matthew patted him on the back, sighing slightly. "Why are you so full of energy..."

His legs fluttered and he shrugged, cocking his head and smiling cheerfully with his eyes closed.

Matthew stared at him and, for some reason, the notion to kiss him right then popped into his mind...

Blushing incredibly red, Matthew stood up and walked over to the bed, pretending to straighten it. "He, this bed was a little wrinkly!-!" he said as he shook his head mentally, telling himself that the only reason that thought came to him was because Francis had kissed him earlier, so it was on the brain. Not to mention all of the fairy tales he had just read - they had obviously influenced him as well!

Francis opened his eyes and gave him an amused look. Standing up, he stripped himself of his clothes and went over to the closet nonchalantly, looking for something to wear. Which greatly surprised Matthew when he turned around and saw what he was wearing - or lack thereof.

"For Pete's sake, Francis!" the boy exclaimed, covering his eyes. "Why!?"

Francis whipped around and shrugged, grinning and then turning back to his rummaging.

Realizing that Francis couldn't, or wouldn't, say anything, Matthew sighed before deciding to just lay on the bed, face buried into the pillow. "Just nudge me when you're clothed, okay?" he said, his voice being muffled by the pillow.

Francis smirked more and took out a lacy corset that came with a lacy white robe. Putting the corset on, he tied the robe and twirled around, laughing and then gasping in surprise as he heard his own voice once again.

Matthew just smiled into the pillow, still not looking up since he wasn't sure if Francis would be clothed or not. "Finally! Ariel speaks!"

"Hey! I am much more pretty than that Danish mermaid!" Francis pouted, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at Matthew. Both of his actions were lost on the Canadian, though, since he was still laying into the bed.

"Well, I don't know..." Matthew teased. "I've always had a thing for red hair..." he lied, laughing to himself.

Francis growled and warned, feeling jealous, "I'll run about without clothes if you keep this up."

Matthew groaned. "Please don't... and I was joking, by the way."

Francis grinned and laughed, replying, "As was I, and besides, this underdress like outfit is hard to undo anyways."

"Oh, you're dressed now?" Matthew asked before lifting his head and inspecting. "Huh, not bad... how many fancy clothes do you have in that closet?"

"A lot," Francis replied, stringing a curl of his hair around his finger and shifting the robe a bit so Matthew could see the fancy corset, "I've lived awhile and received many gifts, oui?"

Matthew stood up and picked up a bit of the robe, tilting his head curiously. "I suppose. How long do you think this took to make?" He smiled slightly as he felt the lace more. "It's really soft, too."

"Well, considering it goes down like a dress train, and is meant for a ballgown around..." Francis pondered for a moment, closing his eyes and then opening them cheerfully, "The 1870's, it probably took two weeks."

"Wow, that's nice someone made that for you." He chuckled a bit before asking, "You really do like women's clothing, huh?"

Blushing slightly, he looked down and nodded, "I've always had a love for a variety of clothing - especially costumes I would see in operas," Francis looked back up nostalgically, "And women's clothing always attracted my attention from how loud, yet graceful it was." His face then contorted to one of dislike, "Except for fashions now. Ick, why aren't the women wearing their corsets?!"

Matthew let out a loud laugh, holding his chest in. "M-most women consider corsets t-torture devices, now!" He wiped at his eyes, since a few happy tears had leaked out. "But you're right, they should wear more clothes."

Francis gave a disbelieving look and asked, "I thought they did like them? You know, for the thinner waist!"

Matthew shook his head. "That would make sense... but now girls just don't care, or they don't eat to get a thin waist. Which is stupid, I've always thought."

Francis gave a disapproving look and threw his hands up in the air, "That is horrible! Eating in my time was considered a sign of the rich - a sign you were blessed with money!"

Matthew sighed and sat back down on the bed. "I know... the world's lot different, Francis, and some of it doesn't make sense."

Francis sat beside him, and cocked his head, "How so? Is it those "tans" everyone has? Tanning was considered the mark of a peasant in my time as well," he gazed down at his pale skin fondly, "And pale skin was a mark of the wealthy."

"Well, now tan skin means that you're cool, for some reason..." he shrugged. "I don't really understand some of the trends today either. Sometimes I wish I lived back in your time, but then I remember all of the cruel punishments..."

Francis gave a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck, "Well... It was more... Harsh in England from what I heard. If you stole bread, you would be hanged..."

Grimacing, Matthew laid down and curled up, yawning again. "I mean, stealing is wrong and everything..." he started, closing his eyes, "But you don't have to go so far..."

Francis nodded, then pondered something for a moment and replied, "True! And I just remembered something!" He prodded Matthew, grinning, "Did you know the first working parachute was invented in France?! So was braile!"

Matthew smiled lightly at him. "That's great! A nice accomplishment for the country of love."

Blushing slightly, feeling his appreciation for his homeland bubbling inside him, he replied, "So is the longest road located in Canada."

Giggling slightly, Matthew looked up at him with a warm smile, "Why do you know that?"

Giggling as well, he ran his hands through his hair and replied, "I like to read various trivia books~"

"Well, thanks for knowing it," Matthew said as he yawned again. "Oh, I can't be tired - I still have sword-training later..."

Francis gave him a sympathetic look and replied, petting Matthew's head, "I know, but you had to put up with me, which is well..." Looking away, he coughed, "Draining..."

Smiling sheepishly, Matthew had to agree. "Yeah... it kind of is. But that's all right, I guess."

Francis snickered and flicked Matthew's forehead, "Oh, but you love me~"

Matthew smiled slightly. "Oh, I do?"

Francis blushed slightly and then nodded firmly, folding his arms and turning his head up haughtily, "Oui! You do!"

Matthew laughed and asked in an airy voice, "And what makes you say that?"

"Because, I look wonderful in a tutu?" Francis turned and suggested curiously, putting a hand to his chin and pondering said statement.

Matthew let out a long laugh, cradling his stomach as he sat up, sitting on his legs. "Don't try it - please - it's already hard to take you seriously every day."

"Non! It is not!" Francis objected, crossing his arms, "And I would look nice!"

Sighing, Matthew stood up and started walking out the door, patting Lilly on the tops of her petals before saying, "Whatever you say, Francis. I'm going to take a walk to wake myself up before training."

Francis smirked and then ran, climbing onto Matthew's back and holding on, demanding, "Then you shall take me also!"

Matthew almost buckled from the unexpected weight, but luckily Francis was pretty light. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around his legs to hold onto him better, almost as a reflex. Sighing, he just kept walking. "You're such a child..."

"Good! It keeps me young!" Francis replied, giggling and wrapping his arms around Matthew's neck and shoulders while resting his head upon the Canadian's own, "And you're a decent pack mule!"

Scowling slightly, Matthew threatened, "Call me that again and I'll drop you."

Holding on more, Francis gave a yelp and apologized quickly, "Non! Non! I'm sorry, you're a fantastic, handsome steed!"

Matthew smiled slightly at the correction before shaking his head. "I guess that's better..."

"Who will earn an apple and some oats if he doesn't drop me!" Francis added, smiling cheekily.

Matthew snorted with laughter, having to stop so that he wouldn't fall from the contractions. "Oh wow, great incentive," he said sarcastically before remembering something. "Oh! That reminds me - I still have to pick up the seal fat for Kumi!-!" He frowned as he looked around the hallway, "Where is he, anyways..."

Francis shrugged, looked about and replied, "Good question..."

"Well, hopefully he's hanging out with Ignacious or something..." sighing sadly, Matthew looked down. "I really am a horrible pet owner..."

Francis flicked his head and argued, "Non! You are preoccupied!"

"I know, but still... I should at least check in on him."

Francis nodded and guessed, "Um, you could check the kitchen!"

"Yeah, might as well..." Matthew said as he turned around and started walking back to their room. "... But what if he doesn't want to see me?"

"Well, I do not know, from what I've seen," Francis pondered, "From what I've seen, your bear doesn't seem to mind being on his own..."

"I suppose you're right, but you said he was mad at me for neglecting him once..."

"Mostly because he was hungry..." Francis muttered awkwardly, looking away.

"Really?" Matthew asked, pouting. "Kumi... come on. Think about something other than your stomach."

Francis giggled, nuzzling Matthew's head and letting his hair fall in front of the other's eyes, "I agree, though I don't blame him if you don't feed him enough~"

"What! I feed him enough!-!" Matthew denied, frowning as he moved Francis' hair out of his eyes. "I leave out a food bowl for him and fill it up every morning..."

"But not full of seal fat~" Francis replied, pushing his hair back in front of him with a cheeky grin.

"Francis, I can't see with your hair -" Matthew started, but he soon tripped from his loss of eyesight, falling down painfully, especially with Francis right on top of him.

Squealing, Francis rolled off of him and picked him up quickly, gazing down at Matthew with a terrified expression, "Mon bebe?! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," Matthew said, sighing. "Luckily it's not the first time I've fallen with a child on my back."

Staring down at him, Francis asked angrily, "A child?!"

Blinking, Matthew replied sheepishly, "Uh, I mean... a person..."

Glaring intensly, he tossed Matthew onto the bed and yelled, "Jerk!"

Matthew fell onto it with an "Oomph!" before lifting his head to look at him. "But I thought you said it was good to be a child so you'd stay young..."

Stopping in his potential rage, Francis looked at him and muttered, "Ohhh..."

Matthew sat up and smiled weakly at him. "Yeah... so you're not mad, then?"

Francis smiled and shook his head, closing his eyes cheerfully, "Non. I'm ballistic."

". . . Huh?"

Francis burst out into laughter and jumped onto the bed, beginning to tickle Matthew furiously, "Just kidding! Le sike as I have heard once!"

Matthew started laughing atrociously, desperately trying to cover up his abdomen and squirming around to stop the laugh-inducing torture. "Fr-Francis! Please, st-stop!-!"

"Non~" the blonde sang, tickling him more.

Matthew tried pushing his hands away, but they were too persistent. "C-come on!-!" he yelled, howling with laughter, "I can't b-breathe!"

"Good! Because you are cruel to me, Matthieu!" Francis replied triumphantly.

"I-I'm sorry!" Matthew screamed in delight, starting to go red since it was getting harder and harder to take in as much oxygen as he needed. "Pl-please!-! Stop!"

Francis released him with a smirk, and whispered, "And that is why you should wear a corset~"

Breathing heavily, Matthew stuck his tongue out at him, a decent amount of red on his face now. "I'm not a girl!"

Blushing slightly as well, Francis mumbled, "Neither am I..."

Taking a deep breath, Matthew sat up and smiled at him. "Duh, I know that," he grinned for a minute before starting to tickle Francis as well. "Payback!"

Francis wiggled and began to giggle hysterically, squirming and trying to get away as he laughed, "Non! N-Non stop!"

Matthew laughed at him before pushing him down onto the bed. "Nope!" he said cheerfully.

Flailing his legs, Francis squirmed more and objected, "Meanie!"

"You started it!" Matthew told him before sitting on his legs to keep them from moving. "You always have to get some sort of revenge, or start something! Don't you?"

Francis yelped and batted at him, face flushed, "Y-You're still a jerk!"

"And you're still an over-dramatic, moody drama queen," Matthew replied, sticking his tongue out at him and attacking him with more tickles.

"Good! Being dramatic is a way to relieve the soul! THE SOUL!" Francis cried out, clawing at Matthew's chest, "Now off!"

Chuckling Matthew stopped tickling him, but didn't get off of him. "Fiiine... but this isn't over," he said, sticking his tongue out with a wink.

Francis gave him a blank stare, (like how a cow looks at an oncoming train,) and asked slowly, "How... Isn't... It?"

"I still have to pay you back for all the past trouble and worry you've caused me," Matthew answered, shrugging. "But I'll probably forget about it before I do anything."

Francis just stared up into his eyes and blinked slowly till he and Matthew heard something:

The sound of thunder out of their window.

Screaming in terror, Francis writhed and began to sob furiously.

Surprised, Matthew said in a panic, "Francis! Calm down - it's just thunder!" He reached over to places his hands on his shoulders, trying to stop his thrashing since he was still sitting on him. "It's fine - we're inside."

"I-I'm afraid of lightning and thunder!" Francis screamed, clamping his eyes shut and squirming furiously, "D-Don't let it get me!"

"I won't," Matthew assured, frowning. "I promise, it won't hurt you..."

Francis continued to wiggle more, crying out in more fear, "Someone save me from the evil storms! They'll try and kill me!"

"Francis, calm down!" Matthew yelled, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at him. "I'm right here, okay? You'll be fine - the lightning is outside, and we're inside safe and sound. It's okay."

Sniffling, Francis stared up into his eyes, breathing heavily and whimpering slightly as he asked, "P-Promise?"

Smiling, Matthew nodded. "Of course. I may joke around a lot, but I won't ever lie to you, Francis."

Francis smiled softly, gazing deeply into Matthew's eyes and nodding, quickly hugging him and whispering, "T-Thanks..."

Matthew chuckled before laying next to Francis and hugging him back. "You're welcome."

Francis, looking into Matthew's eyes nervously, asked in a timid tone, "Um... Why do the clouds yell and make such terrible noises during storms? Are they angry?"

Matthew started laughing at just how much Francis didn't know. "have you gone through science classes for hundreds of years?!" he asked, still laughing.

Francis pouted and glared up at him, replying sheepishly, "O-Oui! But I do not understand thunder!"

Matthew laughed for a bit before saying, "It has something to do with negative and positively charged thingies..." He blushed slightly before admitting, "Okay, maybe I don't know much about it either... but it's not because they're angry."

"B-But their voices..." Francis whimpered, shivering and trying to wiggle his now numb legs.

Matthew chuckled and patted him on the head. "It's not "voices," it's just the sound coming from the lightning bolt. A lot of people are scared of them, though, so it's all right."

"R-Really?" Francis asked suspiciously, giving Matthew a look, "How can I know you are not," he breathed dramatically and yelled, "Lying!?"

"... Why did you say it like that?" Matthew muttered before rolling his eyes. "Because I don't lie. And it's true - I used to be afraid of them too until I grew out of it. My mom had to come in and rock me back to sleep."

Francis gave a pondering look and asked, blushing, "Well, then can you do that for me?"

Matthew stared at him for a second, rubbing the back of his head. "Well... I guess so," he said, for some reason his stomach tingling at the thought.

Francis gave an embarrassed look and then coughed, asking weakly, "Can you get off of me first? My legs a-are numb and I'm having problems breathing..."

Blushing, Matthew got off of him hurriedly, stammering apologies.

Laughing, Francis leaned in and gave him an eskimo kiss, before going over to the closet. With a surprising amount of flexibility, he began to unlace the back of his corset.

"Wow, you're used to that, aren't you?" Matthew asked, sitting back down on the bed.

Blushing, Francis nodded slowly and replied, "O-Oui... I would ask you b-but-"

"No, it's all right," Matthew said, shrugging and walking over to him. "I know how uncomfortable it is to tie and untie things behind your back - I'm surprised you could put it on so well!" He started unlacing him then, chuckling. "I'm glad you were hesitant though - it shows that you understand me, at least a little bit."

Blushing a bit more, Francis mumbled shyly, "Oui and... It's actually too close for me in terms of personal space..."

Matthew was surprised. "Really?! But..." creased his eyebrows together, thinking about all the times he's wanted to just walk around naked or be so close to the Canadian that sometimes he felt suffocated. "... that's odd..." he finished, having a little trouble with one of the ties.

"I-It's close to my rib cage, which is rather delicate..." Francis explained softly, letting out a pained noise as Matthew tugged on the tie, "Gentle Matthieu!"

"Sorry!" he yelled, biting his lip and tackling the knot more carefully. "And oh, I guess that makes sense..." he blushed a little when he caught sight of Francis' veins, remembering when he... Had traced almost all of them, and even kissed the heart of them...

What had been wrong with him that night?

"As a child, having anything bump into my sides too hard caused my ribs to bruise, so they have the chance of breaking easily..." Francis gave an uncomfortable squirm and whined, "So please get this thing off!"

Matthew sighed. "Knowing that, why did you even put it on in the first place?!" he asked, almost starting to scold him again. "I swear, half the things you do don't make any sense in the slightest."

"Because it's pretty..." Francis replied slowly, giving a look down at the floor and blushing, "And I like things that are pretty..."

Matthew smiled a little at his logic, shaking his head slightly as he finally undid them all. "You shouldn't wear something if it'll hurt you."

"But like I said, it looks nice and graceful..." Francis mumbled, glaring a hole in the floor.

Matthew laughed a bit, slipping the corset off of him. "Yes, but you look just fine without it, so you don't need it."

Blushing, Francis wrapped more of the robe around himself and mumbled, "No I don't..."

Matthew shook his head a little, smiling. "Yes, you do..." he tickled him slightly before walking over to the bed. "You're already nice and graceful, okay?"

Francis giggled slightly and nodded, tying the robe and going back over to their bed as well, replying, "Then you stay confident and handsome, oui?"

Matthew laughed and blushed slightly from the compliment, about to deny he was those things but then deciding... Why not just accept them? It was obvious he would just say more anyways if he didn't, so... "Heh, thanks," he finally said, smiling at him.

Francis smiled, wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist and announcing simply, "I crave something."

Tilting his head slightly and resisting the small urge to push Francis' arms away, he asked, "What's that?"

"Your cooking!" Francis looked up, smiling happily, "For once I am starving!"

Matthew laughed a little bit before sitting up and stretching. "All right, all right - what do you want?" Secretly he was just happy that Francis was eating, since he made it sound like he never ate.

Francis bounced up to a sitting position, giving a blank look as he pondered for a moment, "Um... I uh -" brows creasing in confusion, "I don't know..."

Matthew laughed before walking to the kitchen. "I'll make you a specialty," he said as he picked up a frying pan. However, when he turned around, lightning and thunder went off just as he said, "Pancakes!" which actually made him look a little scary.

Francis stared in horror and shivered, backing away from him before running around in panicked circles, yelling, "Merde! Merde!"

Matthew hurriedly walked over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Francis! It's all right!" he tried explaining, even shaking him slightly.

Francis blinked and gave him a stare, trembling and then turning to the window, ranting at the lightning, "Evil demons! Away with thou!"

Matthew laughed at him for a bit before grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. "Come on - come and help me make the pancakes, it'll take your mind off of the thunder."

Francis nodded determinedly, turning around and making a crude hand gesture at the window and then following him into the kitchen, muttering about evil lightning demons and soul sucking computers.

Matthew giggled to himself when he heard the topic of Francis' ramblings. "Lighten up, will you?" he said as he went to go get the ingredients for pancakes. "Get out a bowl, please. And a whisk if we have it, a spoon if we don't."

Francis nodded, lips childishly pursed into a scowl, as he went and got a whisk and a bowl, bringing it over to the counter and sighing.

"All right, we just need to mix these things together and - oh, stop acting like that," Matthew told him, rolling his eyes.

Scowling more, Francis folded his arms stubbornly and replied with a sniff, "Non~"

Sighing, Matthew started to make the pancakes, measuring out the flower. "If you do, I'll make the pancakes into the shape of a heart," he conditioned, grinning to himself.

Francis immediately stopped, curl wagging as he smiled warmly, "Alright then, mon amour~" he sang, bouncing happily.

Matthew laughed at him before asking, "All right then, do we have any heart-shaped molds? Otherwise I could try and make one out of a coat-hangers..." Matthew thought to himself for a minute, trying to figure out how exactly he could do that.

Francis cocked his head, before getting an idea. Running to their room, he came back with the coat hanger, now bent into the shape of a heart.
"For you?" Francis asked, holding it out with a wondering smile.

Laughing again, he took the heart and did a little bow. "Why, thank you, princess," he said with a small chuckle, "these will be some thin pancakes, though."

Francis gave a smile, blushing slightly and curtsied, "Merci, mon roi~"

Matthew blinked at him, tilting his head to the side. "Roi?" he asked before turning back to the unmixed batter. "What does that mean?"

Francis' eyes lit up as he replied cheerfully, "It means king!"

"Oh, really?" Matthew asked, amusement in his tone. "Hmm... I don't know if I'm ready to take over a kingdom yet... I'm pretty sure I'm still just a prince."

Francis giggled slightly and asked, "Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because," Matthew said, turning to him and smiling sheepishly, "I'm... not really that confident to lead anyone."
Francis pursed his lips and shook his head stubbornly, "Non! You are and shall one day!"

"Francis, there aren't kings anymore," Matthew told him with a laugh. "Except in England, I guess."

Still not deterred, he asked simply, "Canada has a king, oui?"

Shaking his head, he replied just as easily, "No, Prime Minister. It's a little bit different."

"No matter then!" Francis announced triumphantly, "We'll take over Quebec and make you it's king!"

Laughing, Matthew finally started mixing the actual batter. "I think that's taking it a bit far... I don't really want to be a king anyways."

"B-But I thought most young boys couldn't wait to be king..." Francis commented in a saddened tone.

Matthew smiled at him a bit as he whisked, "Well, back in the day maybe, but nowadays, people just want to live their life without too much responsibility."

Francis gave an annoyed look and shook his head, deciding, "Then I am forcing you to be King of the Canadian Geese."

"... King of the Canadian Geese?" Matthew asked, laughing. "What would I have them do?"

"Attack the British!" Francis decided with sparkling eyes.

Chuckling, Matthew commented, "You know, with your fascination with the British, it makes me wonder if you actually hate them."

Francis laughed and shook his head, replying, "Non, I just like making fun of them and their bland cooking."

Sticking his tongue out at him, Matthew turned the oven on and placed the pan over it. "Oh, all right. I hope this makeshift mold holds the batter."

Francis gave a determined nod, replying firmly, "It shall, because I said so!"

Laughing, Matthew placed the coat-hanger heart on the pan before slowly pouring the batter into it, sticking his tongue out a little in concentration. "I hope your words are that strong," he muttered, taking the bowl away as soon as the sticky batter touched the edges of the heart. He smiled a little when he saw it staying confined. "I guess they are - they'll still be really thin, though."

"Bien!" Francis declared happily, bending over and kissing Matthew's cheek, "Then they are crepes!"

Matthew didn't even seem to notice the small show of affection as his eyes lit up. "Ooh! Then we'll need to make a sauce!"

"Hmm, well, more like berries with a fruit type sauce~" Francis explained with an eager grin, "What berries shall I fetch?"

"Blueberries!" Matthew said, smiling excitedly. "They're my favorite! And then grab what your favorite fruit is as well."

"Oui!" Francis replied excitedly, giving a small dance of happiness, "I shall get those and some strawberries!"

"Ooh! Great combination," Matthew said, laughing before flipping the crepe over. "This thing's so thin that it probably doesn't need to cook on the other side," he said before picking it up with a spatula and carrying it like that over to the cupboard to grab a plate to place it on.

In a flash, Matthew noticed Francis had the sauces and assorted berries ready to be put in the crepe.

"Great!" he said approvingly, nodding and placing the crepe down on a sort of decorative plate. "You make the sauce and I'll make the crepes, and then we'll have something tasty!"

Francis was about to when he noticed Matthew seemed to have batter on his face...

"Um, Matthieu," Francis started, trying to stifle his giggling as he gazed at the unsuspecting boy.

"Hm?" Matthew asked distractedly, carefully pouring another crepe into the thin heart frame.

Francis just snickered and came up to him, slowly kissing away the batter and licking some of it off him, blushing slightly as he did so.

He jumped back when Matthew accidentally tipped the bowl over and made an even bigger mess. "S-sorry!" he mumbled, blushing profusely as he ran around to go grab a washcloth and start cleaning it up off the floor and the stove. "M-my mistake..." Worrying his lip, he focused on the spilt batter on the ground, trying desperately not to think about... batter being licked off of him!-! Why would someone do that!?

Francis broke out into giggling laughter as he gazed down at his skin, noting, "Even though that batter is burning my skin slightly, it feels cozy~"

"Sorry," Matthew said again, almost whining as he concentrated on cleaning still. "I... it was just a - a surprise, I guess..."

"Understandably, and for as to why I licked you," Francis gave a shrug and smiled, "psPerhaps you looked tasty~?"

Blushing more, Matthew slowly stood up to rinse out the washcloth. "I, I'm not..." he tried to say, turning the water on to drown out his much shyer voice, "t-tasty..."

"Non! Your skin doesn't have much salt on it! So it is tasty~" Francis replied in a song like tone, smirking as he thought of how Matthew would react.

He was not disappointed as he saw Matthew drop the washcloth, blushing even more and even starting to shake slightly. What was happening to him!? Francis regularly said things like that, it shouldn't bother him this much...

Then again, the other had never licked him for crying out loud!-!

"R-really?" he squeaked out, clearing his throat before turning the water off and tending to the floor again. "Heh, I mean, it's just sk-skin..."

"It is your face, one of the most sensitive places on the body~" Francis sang, giving a gleeful expression.

Matthew sighed at how he never ceased to make him blush more before jumping up. "The crepe!" he yelled, running back to the stove and noting with dismay that it was burnt in some areas and all over the pan. "I've ruined it..." he muttered sadly before taking the spatula and trying to flip it over.

"Non, it is alright!" Francis comforted quickly, sounding guilty, "It is my ult fault you burnt them!"

Matthew blushed more, holding a hand up to where the batter had previously been. "... Yeah, I guess," he said, but he didn't sound that confident. He still tried to salvage the crepe, though, moving it over to the plate and sighing, thinking about all the batter he had just wasted.

Francis gazed down at it softly, and complimented, "Even if it is burnt, you put your emotions into it, oui?"

Matthew snorted a bit before laughing, covering his mouth as he did so. "Of course you'd say that," he said, laughing more as he turned the stove off and tried to clean up the rest of the batter. "I'll take the burnt one - but we still need our sauce, you know."

Suddenly, Matthew was whacked over the head with a spatula, receiving an angered response, "Do not mock my philosophy!"

Pouting at him, Matthew took the spatula back. "That wasn't philosophy... I don't know what that was," he smiled before saying, "An attempt to make me feel better - and it worked, so smile."

Narrowing his eyes, Francis gave an irate sigh and looked away unhappily.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Matthew asked, frowning. He was so happy just a few moments ago, torturing him...

"You think I am lying!" Francis snapped, narrowing his eyes more as he glared.

Matthew was a little shocked at just how mad Francis was. "Well... I just don't see how I could have put my emotions into it..." he started, blushing more and looking down, twiddling with his fingers. "I mean, the only thing I was feeling as I spilled the batter was..." he trailed off, not really sure what he had been feeling. Disbelief? Disgust? Or maybe an odd form of bubbly happiness...? An unheard of mixture of the three? He didn't know.

Francis blinked for a moment before giving a serene smile, closing his eyes and summing up, "You felt disappointed when you spilt the batter, then," his smiling widening as he added, "Happy when I licked your face~"

"Wh-what!" Matthew exclaimed, blushing more and hunching his shoulders a little, as if trying to shrink himself down. "No, I, I wasn't!-!" he denied, hugging himself.

Smirking, Francis retorted, "Non, your body language and temperature gave it away~" leaning in, he breathed on Matthew's neck and whispered, "Actions speak louder than words~"

Matthew shivered when he felt the other's hot, tickling breath blow down his neck, immediately holding a hand up to his neck as his temperature increased more. He didn't know what to say, since he knew Francis was right... but, but he still didn't understand why he reacted like that... He couldn't like Francis like that already - it was just on his mind. Yes, that was all...

"So tell me, Matthieu~" Francis continued, tone becoming smooth as he asked with closed, cheery eyes, "Are you secretly infatuated?"

"N-no way!-!" Matthew whispered fiercely, still blushing as he looked up into the other's face even if he couldn't see him right now. "I - I mean, anyone would act flustered after being l-licked..." Non, I disagree~" Francis replied slowly, smirk widening.

Matthew pouted at him now, turning away. "Name one person that wouldn't!" he insisted, crossing his arms.

"Me!" Francis laughed, clutching himself as he did so.

"Well..." Matthew started before sticking his tongue out at him childishly. "You don't count - you love people being close to you..."

"Which is a form of love~" Francis objected, playing with hair and grinning proudly, "Familiar to be precise."

"Familiar...?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"As in, between friends and family, in a platonic or affectionate manner so to speak~" Francis explained, a show of interest in his eyes.

"... You don't say?" Matthew asked, chuckling slightly. "Well, I suppose that makes sense."

"Oui, I hope it does..." Francis trailed off suddenly, gazing at the floor as if lost.

Matthew poked him in the shoulder, smiling and all previous embarrassment forgotten. "Well, anyways, let's finish our crepes full of emotion and love!" He giggled at the end of his sentence before signing a line of a song and walking over to the two crepes he had made.

Francis laughed as well and began to help him, making the sauce carefully and bringing it over to their freshly made crepes.

"Bon Appetite," Matthew said before spooning some of the sauce over his mess of a crepe. "I'm sure it'll taste good anyways! Right?"

"Oui!" Francis agreed enthusiastically, eyes shining as he blushed slightly and mumbled, "Because you made them, mon amour, and I truly appreciate that..."

Smiling kindly at him, Matthew said his thanks before taking a bite of his food. It really was good... the sauce, he felt, made it, though. "You did a great job on the sauce, Francis! I love it - the perfect blend."

Blushing slightly, he gave a slow nod, like a bow from where he sat, and replied, "As did you with the crepes. While a little burnt, are not overly sweet or salty."

"Hey, I gave you the un-burnt one!" Matthew said, sticking his tongue out childishly before laughing. "And thanks, I'm glad you like them."

Francis gave a soft smile and nodded, bending over and kissing Matthew's cheek, "Merci~"

Matthew laughed, and then they sat there and enjoyed a delicious, delightful evening together as they waited for the storm to pass. Sharing laughs and enjoying each other's company, it was no surprise that neither of them wanted it to end.

"And so I found this book in a library," Francis continued to explain, between snorting and giggling, "Called 112 Gripes about the French! It's hilarious!"

Matthew chuckled slightly. "Really? What did it say?"

"Supposedly, we don't bathe," Francis wrinkled his nose, an annoyed look on his face, "Who would ever think that?!"

Matthew let out a long laugh, managing to choke out, "I - I can't im-magine!"

Francis narrowed his eyes, and accused, "You believe the horrid Englishmen, don't you?!"

"No," Matthew said, grinning and shaking his head. "It's just... looking at you, and how much you pride yourself on how you look, that seems like the stupidest idea ever."

Francis gave a relieved look, nodding and smiling, "I know right?"

Matthew giggled again before taking the last bite of his crepe. "If only you could tell all those people back then how wrong they were."

Francis nodded, frowning slightly before giving a small smile, then explaining, "Oui. Then again, the Liberation of France in World War Two was a very stressful time for my people."

Frowning, Matthew sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right..."

Shaking his head, Francis finished his crepe and then jumped up, announcing with a wink, "I'm going to go get a surprise for you~"

"Ah! Sounds nice!" Matthew said, smiling at him. "You didn't have to get anything for me, though!"

Francis gave a stern look and shook his head, insisting, "Non! I do!"

"... You really didn't," Matthew said, giggling before starting to clean up.

Pouting, Francis gave a huff and turned around, running into the bathroom, "I'll be out in fifteen minutes!"

"OH, really?" Matthew asked, laughing. "Don't you say something like that every morning?"

"Non!" Francis sang back, "I do not~ Now, be a dear and clean up the kitchen!"

"Already am!" Matthew called, sticking his tongue out even though he couldn't see him.

Eventually, after his promised fifteen minutes, Francis rushed back out with a dazzling smile to reveal: That his hair had been completely straightened, reaching all the way down past his tailbone and covering one eye because it was parted to the left. The train of hair looked silky, and almost cream blonde coloring to it as it flowed behind his friend gracefully.
"Is this bien, Matthieu?" Francis asked, nervously wringing his hands together and peaking out from behind his hair with one eye, his stance timid, "It might not look the best..."

Matthew stared at him, his mouth dropping a bit. He looked very... pretty, honestly. "Yes, very much so," Matthew told him kindly. He almost felt like running his hands through the hair, it just looked so smooth and soft.

And as if he read his mind, Francis offered, "I-If you want to touch it, you can..."

Matthew chuckled a bit, remembering hearing those words before... "I... probably shouldn't," he said weakly, flashing a sheepish smile before turning back to the dishes. He really needed to stop sending Francis mixed messages, especially after.. him kissing him like that.

Francis gave a broken stare, his eyes watering as he sniffed, "It looks stringy, doesn't ti!"

"What!?" Matthew asked incredulously, turning around. Suddenly, he remembered why he kept sending him mixed messages... he took everything he said the wrong way anyways. "No! I just... don't really feel like it's, um, appropriate?"

Francis flailed dramatically and sobbed, "I do look terrible, then!"
Unbeknownst to Matthew, Francis was secretly smirking and feeling victorious. He knew if he wanted to, he could manipulate his roommate into touching his hair, and well, thats what he wanted right now.
And he wouldn't take no for an answer...

Matthew, completely unaware of Francis' acting, sighed and ran a hand through his own hair. "I didn't say that!" he said, frowning. "Why do you always think you look terrible?! You look fine - always! Okay! You look better than fine - you look amazing, so stop degrading yourself every time I don't want to do a specific thing!-!"

Cutting the crocodile tears, Francis asked excitedly, eyes shining, "Amazing?!"

Pausing slightly, Matthew cursed to himself as he realized that what he said could be taken the wrong way. But, since he had stopped crying, he decided to just go with it. "Well, that's what I said, oui?"

Matthew quickly found himself tackled onto a nearby couch in a flurry of hugs and kisses assaulting his face.

"Oh, merci, mon amour, merci!" Francis cooed between each kiss, grinning and laughing as he did so. If he noticed Matthew's extreme discomfort or how red his face was getting, he chose to ignore it.

"Fr-Francis!" Matthew tried to say, pushing at him, "P-please get off!"

"Non! I must reward my prince!" Francis declared, squeezing the poor boy and rubbing their faces together as he sang, "J'taime, J'taime, J'taime~!"

Matthew sighed and laid limp, smiling a little now. "Thanks..." he whispered, finding it hard to believe that he could feel so strongly for him in such a short period of time... He almost felt guilty for not feeling the same way, but he knew it was stupid to love someone purely out of guilt and nothing else...

"Matthieu," Francis asked suddenly, now just straddling the Canadian's waist and staring blankly, "Can I ask you a splendiferous question?"

Laughing a bit, Matthew replied, "Just for that word - yeah."

Francis grinned and replied simply, "Alright, do you think I would make a cute cat boy? Like in Alfred's special books?"

"... Cat boy?" Matthew asked, not really understanding the full meaning of the term or its origins. "Um... I guess so?" He tried imagining him wearing a catsuit, and figured that he probably would look cute in one of those. Why was he asking? Did he want to go trick-or-treating as a cat sometime...?

Francis suddenly whipped out a picture of an effeminate, slender boy with cat ears and a tail wearing only an apron and in... A rather compromising position and asked innocently, "Like one of these?"

Matthew stared at it for a minute before he went completely red. Turning away, he yelled, "I don't know!-! I've never thought about it!"Why the hell would he want to look like that?!

Francis giggled and continued to prod, "Don't you like the ears and tail? I know I do!"

"I-it's just...!" Matthew started, shaking his head. "It looks really b-bad! Ah., n-not that it looks bad! The ears and tail I mean, it's more just... er, it's very..." he struggled to figure out a way to explain. "... suggestive...: It can be, uh, taken the wrong way...?"

Francis placed the picture down, right next to Matthew, and pressed his slender hands against his cheeks, almost as if he was squishing his own face, and asked in confusion, "Why is that?"

Matthew's eye started twitching as he turned to look at him. "Okay, I refuse to believe that you don't see it.."

Cocking his head innocently, Francis fluttered his lashes and squished his face more as he replied, "B-But I don't..."

"..." Matthew blinked a him for a minute before blushing even more. "You're serious?"

Francis nodded slowly, his straight hair bouncing as his lips formed a cat like curiosity, "Non, I don't get it..."

Sighing, Matthew laid down on the couch. "Okay, so you know how some people look at other's as just objects for pleasure? That... look, is kind of like that, er, I think..."

Francis blushed darkly and nodded, yet asked, "B-But it looks cute..." Giving Matthew a hopeless look, he took out a pair of fake cat ears from behind his back and placed said pair on his own head as he cocked his head more, and asked Matthew, "So isn't it just cute?"

Matthew stared up at him and the ears, smiling a bit as he took it all in. "Well, yes..." he admitted. The ears did make him look really cute and catlike, and like he was just a cute, innocent little animal. "I guess as long as you're clothed it's fine..."

Francis smiled, nodded and then cooing, "Meow~"

Blushing slightly, Matthew reached up a hand to pet him between the fake ears, laughing a little. "Your hair really is soft," he said before cursing himself again. Why was he always in these situations...

Francis grinned, nuzzling into his hand and replied, "Merci, mon ami~ Meoooow~"

Sighing slightly, Matthew sat up, patting him once more before standing up and stretching. "But anyways, back to the dishes I suppose - ah!"

Francis quickly wrapped his arms around Matthew's right thigh and refused to let go, smiling devilishly, "Non~"

"... Francis," Matthew started, blushing at where he was holding him. "Th-they have to get done..."

"But I feel lonely and want you to pet me~" Francis crooned, nuzzling Matthew's leg with a purr, "Because I'm your cat~"

… Matthew could suddenly understand the appeal of catboys.

They looked so innocent, so cute; they're humans, but they're also cats, which makes them belong to you... and makes you feel happy to know that such a creature is yours and yours alone.

Unfortunately, Matthew didn't really want that.

Laughing nervously, he petted him a little before trying to push him away. "You're not a cat, Francis..."

"What if I want to be a cat?" Francis inquired, tugging at Matthew's leg, "And only your cat?"

Looking away, Matthew blushed a little. "I don't really know if I want that responsibility..."

"At least feed me some tuna~?" Francis meowed. smirking inwardly at how flustered Matthew looked.

"... If we have any," Matthew whispered before beginning to walk towards the kitchen, though it was a little tricky with him being attached to his leg.

Luckily, Francis was clothed decently for once, wearing a maple leaf sweater of Matthew's and some thigh-high striped socks that were white and red, like candy canes. And a... Choker with a cat bell...
Alright, this was getting pretty weird in Matthew's opinion...

"Francis, where did you get a cat bell choker?" he asked, sighing and placing a hand to his forehead. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Last night~" Francis purred, smirking more, "I went to Alfred and he gave the ears and bell necklace to me~"

Matthew felt his eye start twitching. "Of course he did..." Wasn't Alfred the one who told him that he didn't have to start kissing Francis right away, and just apologize to him and maintain their friendship...? Why the heck did he give him these things!-!

"He told me that it would make me look cute enough and help you keep your stress down~" Francis explained, meowing again and nuzzling Matthew's leg, "So of course I took them!"

"... How would it keep my stress down?" he asked quietly. If anything, it was only making his stress worse, since he'll admit that really did look very cute... Matthew had always liked animals, and he always wanted to just pick them up and snuggle with them. So with Francis looking like that... Well, it was like sending two very different signals to his head: one, he's Francis and he's already "in love with him" so he shouldn't be doing such romantic things towards him, and two: "OH MY GOSH IT'S A KITTY! Must hug~!"

… He hoped the first one continued to win.

Francis gazed up at him with big, innocent, azure eyes and asked curiously, "Because petting cats relieves stress, so if I'm a cat," Francis smiled softly, "Then I can relieve the stress I put on you all the time!"

Matthew paused slightly before turning to look at him. He was about to say that he didn't really cause him that much stress, but faltered when he realized... he kind of did. "W-well..." he said instead. "Sometimes stress is a good thing..."

Francis gave a saddened look and shook his head, hair whipping back and forth, "Non, I know I cause the, "bad stress," non?"

Staring at him, Matthew laughed a bit nervously before petting him again. "I wouldn't say... uh..." he bit his lip, not really wanting to tell him that he did give him quite a lot of stress since he'd act all depressed afterwards... but he didn't want to lie either. "... I can handle it, though," he finally finished, smiling sheepishly.

Francis calmed considerably, sighing in relief and nuzzling into Matthew's head and mumbling softly, too soft for Matthew to understand.

"What was that?" Matthew asked, almost instinctively hugging him and placing one hand on the back of his head softly.

Francis blushed and trembled slightly, replying softly, "I-I said you're... S-So nice..."

Matthew smiled a little. "Thanks... I try," he said, wondering how many times he's said that already. "You're nice, too, you know."

"Well, and," Francis bit his bottom lip, then giggled slightly, placing a trembling hand on Matthew's chest, "I think you're acting incred-dibly handsome..."

Blushing a little, Matthew laughed, feeling very warm all of a sudden. "Ah, thanks?" He kept the thought that he wasn't that handsome to himself as he placed a hand on top of Francis', intending to push it away, but instead just keeping it there for reasons even he didn't know.

Francis blushed softly, making his creamy skin show an almost porcelain, rosy tone as he tilted his head and whispered, "Merci~"

Matthew blinked down at him, smiling softly before lifting a hand to caress his cheek. "Such a nice color..." he whispered to himself, almost as if he was transfixed by it. It wasn't just the color, though, it was how soft he felt, and how much it complimented the rest of his face and hair, and how warm he felt...

Francis giggled, asking a his hand shifted to caress Matthew's cheek as well, "Why is that? I'm only blushing~"

Chuckling, Matthew responded, "Yes, but it makes you look really cute..." he leaned forward and kissed his cheek before snapping himself out of it and taking a step back, laughing nervously. "Ah, sorry about that... I tend to, er, lose myself, sometimes, I guess?" And that much was true; he remembered going ice-skating on a pond once, and he had gotten so distracted by the beautiful cracks etched on the surface that he didn't even realize he was skating on thin ice. He might have died if his mother hadn't taken him off of there...

This distraction or "complete and utter transfixiation" seemed to be happening a lot more lately, though...

Francis blushed more and giggled, smirking inwardly as he noted to remember what Matthew had said and use it on him later. For now though, he would go easy on him as he asked, in the most adorable, innocent voice possible, "Mrrow~?"

Only, he didn't really know how positively adorable that sounded to Matthew. The poor boy blushed again, and before he could stop himself he wrapped him into a tight hug, smiling and not really saying anything, other than a small, high-pitched, happy sound. Francis sounded so cute~! Just like a baby kitten!

Francis blushed more and smiled, purring and asking, "Is there anything I can do for you, mrrow~?"

"Just stay like this~" Matthew told him, positively gushing. He giggled a little before blushing and looking into his eyes. "Okay, yes, you could pull off being a cat boy..." He blushed a little more as he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss him again... But he managed not to.

Francis' eyes sparkled as he purred more, nuzzling Matthew's face and meowing some more, in between his barrage of purring.

Matthew giggled before hugging him tighter. "Do you still want tuna? Although tuna after crepes seems like a weird combination, to be honest..."

Francis nodded, purring more and smiling rather gracefully for a "cat," "Oui~ And could you feed it to me, mrrow~?"

Francis' purring was like a gentle, soothing lul to Matthew's ears, making him smile and look into his eyes again. "Why not~?" he said, giggling. "Maybe having a cat wouldn't be so bad..." he said quietly before walking to the kitchen, leading Francis by the hand.

Francis followed eagerly and gave a grateful mew. "Merci, Matthieu~" He sat down at the table and quickly adjusted something of his appearance, taking out a bottle from under the table and drinking what seemed to be an odd elixir in a suspicious bottle. When Matthew turned again, he watched as Francis yawned, revealing small, cute looking fangs.
Somehow, he had a sneaking suspicion that Arthur and Alfred had just planned something against him...

"Francis," he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you have slightly longer fangs...?"

"Because I wanted to be a cat~" Francis meowed, licking his fangs and grinning, "Arthur made the fang potion for me~"

Groaning, Matthew held a hand up to his face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Alfred also planted cameras..." he trailed off before searching around the room for places the yaoi-obsessed boy could have hidden such devices.

Francis cocked his head and gave a bemused look, "R-really, mrrow?" He then yawned, licking his fangs again as his stomach rumbled, "I feel kind of sleepy... Mrrow..."

Sighing, Matthew left his search and walked back to Francis just as his cat ears fell off of his head, being replaced with... real ones... Oh no. "Francis, why would you do that!?" Matthew asked finally. "Why would you change yourself into a cat!"

Blinking curiously, he yawned, scratching at his ears. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be a full cat. My curse won't... Let... Me..." Suddenly, a bushy, elegant and fluffy long, white tail swung out and wrapped around Matthew's hand, "I'm not s-stupid..."

Matthew sighed a little as he pulled against the tail, still thinking about how nice it felt against his hand.

Francis gazed up at him, then began to meow longingly, sounding upset, "My stomach hurts! Why won't you feed me, you're my owner!" His tail and ear fur stood on end as his ears flattened against the sides of his head, said ears looking slightly large and bat like.

"Ah, sorry!" Matthew exclaimed apologetically before taking his hand out of the tail hold and walking over to the fridge. He felt bad now, remembering how he still hadn't bought seal fat for Kumajirou, either...

Suddenly it hit Matthew though, and his mind traced back to the end of Francis' loud exclamation as the words, You're my owner! Played over and over in Matthew's head, causing him to freeze and stare at the wall in shock.

Why did Francis have that mindset? Well, he did suppose that potion could have affected his mind, what with the ears and tail and all... But still, would it really affect his mind that quickly? Didn't potions usually only change your appearance, anyhow?

"Wait, Francis," Matthew said, grabbing the tuna and walking back to him. "You're still a person... I'm not your "owner.""

"But I'm a cat!" Francis insisted, giving a frightened look as Matthew noticed the other male's pupils... had started looking more slender and feline like, "And you feed and take care of me! Not to mention brush me," he then gave Matthew a big show of watery, sorry-looking eyes, "Mrrow?"

"... Francis, I've never done those things," he said, frowning and creasing his eyebrows together. "Well, I guess I've fed you once, and I do try and make sure you're not hurt... but I've never brushed you, and you're still a person!-!"

"You brushed my head fur!" the cat like blonde insisted, his tone almost an impatient yowl, "And you've bathed me, which wasn't nice because the water is freezing, and you could have just licked me clean!"

"... Y-you were a human at that time, though," Matthew said, blushing from the "licked clean" comment. "And covered in blood..."

"Because I had fleas!" Francis growled, pouting and then staring at his tail. Cocking his head, he leaped out of the chair and started batting at his tail with a yowl, hissing at the appendage and chasing it.

"Stop!" Matthew called, grabbing his tail and scolding him slightly. "That's your tail! Don't abuse it like that!" It wasn't until after the words came out of his mouth that he realized how ridiculous they sounded...

Francis gazed up at him with an irate expression, tail twitching as he hissed, "But it's trying to betray me!"

"... How it is trying to betray you?" Matthew asked, groaning and reminded him to yell at Arthur later.

"It's tickling my whiskers!" Francis grumbled, pawing at his face which, thankfully, did not have whiskers, "And says I should claw up your favorite two leg furs!"

"... Please don't," Matthew muttered, sighing. "You should have never taken that potion..."

Francis' tail swished side to side as his ears shifted forward, showing how curious he was as he asked, "What, mrrow?"

Matthew shook his head before opening up the can of tuna. "Never mind, just eat your food and go to sleep, all right?" He needed to go see Arthur for an antidote, after all...

Francis pawed at Matthew impatiently, yowling, "Feed me, master!"

"You can feed yourself..." Matthew told him with a sigh before going to a drawer and grabbing a fork, handing it to him.

Francis pawed at the fork with caution, before hissing at hit, his fur standing on end as he pawed it away from him, growling. "It's evil!" Turning to Matthew, he meowed desperately, "Please feed me!"

"... With what?!" he asked, confused. He grabbed a spoon instead and took some of the tuna, holding it out to him. "Say ah...?"

Francis' eyes shined with glee as he purred, meowing and wrapping his lips around the spoon. Lapping up the tuna, his ears shifted and his tail swished happily.

Matthew sighed before sitting down and grabbing more tuna. "Holy guacamole, you sure are a handful..."

Francis nodded, his small, rough-looking pink tongue licking his fangs, and then his pale lips as he purred and meowed loudly, "Merci, mrrow~!"

Chuckling a little, Matthew held more tuna out to him. "Just eat your food, all right?" he asked softly. He did have to admit that Francis was cute like this, even if he was a little demanding. He was acting exactly like a cat, actually...

Purring more, he make a noise of glee as he bit down on the spoon and lapped up more tuna, tail practically wagging as he scratched at his ears. Francis' pale face seemed alive with a rosy glow as his eyes closed in pure contentment, his blonde lashes fluttering over his cheekbones. Which, unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, made him look even cuter to Matthew, who blushed slightly as he reached forward and petted him, smiling. "Aw, who's a good boy~?" he asked sweetly before laughing at himself.

Francis' lashes fluttered open as his clear, cerulean eyes shone alight with appreciation for his words, as he meowed back cheerfully, "Moi!"

Matthew giggled again before feeding him more tuna. "That's right, you are..." chuckling, he started scratching by one of his ears, since most cats usually liked that.

Francis purred as he took another bite of tuna, lapping it up happily with a loving smile. Nuzzling into Matthew's hand, he swallowed the tuna and then yawned sleepily, licking his fangs.

Eyes half lidded, he rubbed one lazily with a hand as his ears and tail twitched.
"Matthieu..." Francis slurred, rubbing his eye more as his cheeks flushed slightly, lashes fluttering, "I-I'm swee-eepy..."

"Then let's put you to bed, shall we?" he said kindly before picking him up and carrying him over to the bed. He smiled when Francis nuzzled into him, meowing softly and yawning yet again as he closed his eyes. Who knew cats yawned so much? He wondered why he was so tired, though - was it just because of the potion?

Setting him down on the bed, he kissed the top of his forehead. "Sweet dreams, okay?"

Francis pawed at Matthew's arm sleepily, meowing softly, "W-Will you talk to eyebrow bastard?"

"Eyebrow bastard...?" Matthew echoed before remembering that he called Arthur that sometimes. "Ah, well, yes..." He smiled at him. "I mean, you being a cat is nice and all, but I think I like you better as a human."

Francis sleepily opened an eye, giving a nervous look as he asked, "Will I still be cute, mrrow?"

Laughing at his insecurity, Matthew pet him between his ears. "Yes, you will still be very cute," he assured, kissing his forehead again before standing up. "Now get some rest, I'll be back soon."

Francis nodded and curled up into a ball, clutching an old looking, velvet giraffe to his chest as he replied, closing his eyes, "Arthur the Valiant says you're lying..."

"Arthur the Valiant?" Matthew asked, frowning slightly. "Who's that? And I'm not lying..."

Francis shifted the velveteen giraffe up so that its glassy, black eyes were staring at Matthew eerily as he replied, "I own stuffed animals... Remember?"

Where'd he get the giraffe? Matthew asked himself before saying, "Uh, actually, I've never seen your stuffed animals... but I'm telling you that you'll look cute when you're not a cat anymore, okay?"

Francis gave a small pout then nodded, closing his eyes more and falling asleep, breathing slowly and steadily in his curled up ball as his ears twitched.

Seeing that he was now sleeping, Matthew let out a breath of relief. I swear, he thought to himself as he walked towards the exit. Arthur's going to pay for giving him that stupid potion... and Alfred, too, for giving him the idea in the first place! Stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him, he frowned. Why did Francis feel like he had to change for him, anyways? He was fine just the way he was...

"I should probably tell him that some time," he said to himself before walking off to find his other two friends, figuring they're either in the library or in the dungeon. And if they aren't, well, he supposed he'd just walk around...

Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: Oooooo Yaoi cliches~ I can't wait till you all get to see even more of them~~~ :D