Arthur woke up that morning with his fabulous Frenchman asleep next to him, he smiled slightly at the sweetness of Francis. Lovino hadn't been the only one to get drunk that night, Francis had asked him out after he began moaning about how he could never go out with Lovino any more because he was always caring for Bella. Fuck knows why he cared for the child so much. I couldn't give a crap that his partner had been killed by one of the most wanted killers in the world, Antonio should have killed the bloody bastard then less British resources would need to be used to catch the murderer.

He sighs as he rolls away from Francis. Holy Crap last night was good, the best he had ever had but he couldn't admit that to him, no way in hell. Francis made movement and Arthur instantly clamped his eyes shut, not wanting to talk to him. There is a laugh from Francis, ridiculing him, "What's the matter you don't want to say anything to me?"

His voice... It sounded wonderful in the morning, "Fuck off frog..." He didn't want to have to admit to him... No way in hell would he admit to him that he actually quite liked the frog. He would always be his King but there were so many things wrong with this... Didn't God say some bullshit about being damned if you liked another man? He didn't know, to be honest he didn't care, but it was the only think stopping him from loving Francis and he would cling onto it as hard as possible.

Francis could never know that he was his King, that would make him susceptible... He would lose the game, but just what game were they playing? He couldn't remember any more... It has been so long since he first met him. He would never forget that day, they had got locked in his office together and that's where they had had first locked lips. It was only bad luck that Antonio had been the one to unlock the door and became his target, forever wanting payback for stopping them from going further. The words had been on Francis' lips just as the idiot opened the fucking door. Not only that but he had the damn nerve to smile as well... Stupid idiot...

He glanced at the clock, immediately jumping out of bed. Thanks to those two idiots he was going to be late for work... He pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up quickly, noticing a wondrous aroma coming from the kitchen. Francis would have gone by now, he must have left something. Honestly just because he thought he was a better cook... He rips on his trousers, making sure he looks prim and proper in the mirror before going into the kitchen.

He couldn't help but smile at the food, maybe just one bite wouldn't hurt... After all it would be a waste otherwise... So there he ended up munching into his food blissfully unaware Francis was already just getting to the park. How did he make food this good? Was it even possible? His taste buds felt wrapped up in a luxurious heaven as mouthful after mouthful he ate the food. The taste was too nice, it was indulging and so addictive... No, he needed to get to work. He forced himself away, rushing on a full stomach to the car.

He burst into work, his face red from running, he glances over to Francis' desk. Ha! He had beaten the bastard! Casually, he strolled to his office, ignoring the pile of people wanting to talk to him about 'urgent' business. They just wanted to make a name of themselves and he wasn't going to help them do that, as he settled down in his chair his hand caught on a piece of paper.

Francis has gone to help me.

I think he might need help.

Just do this to show that you love him, please.

Underneath was the address of the park, he laughed at it as he scrunched it up. So the Tomato Idiot at last is accepting help? Well good for him... Its not like he'll need him. His gut hurts, telling him that something it wrong. Glancing at the empty desk outside where Francis should be he watches it before realising he is staring at Francis' gun. Launching into action, he grabs his gun, sliding it into its holder as he makes his way out. What was he doing? What was Francis doing?

His hand slam the car door shut hard as he gets to the park, scanning around for anything. There! In the distance! Francis! His feet wouldn't move as he watches him, unable to believe that it is really him then he notices in his body posture how he seems to have given up. Don't you fucking dare! If you lose the game then I lose too. He dashes over to them, getting a good distance close before shooting the other guy in the head, not caring about them.

His hands tremble and he goes over to Francis, the amount of blood coming from him... "F-Francis I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you to fuck off before... I should have come sooner! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say I hated you late night. You damn frog j-just get up!" He cries, the tears rolling off his cheeks and onto Francis.

"Je t'aime."

In a moment it is over, he blinks back up at him in astonishment, smiling, not beaming a large smile. H-He loves me? And I love you too, my little Frog. He cuddles him close, Francis' blood beginning to cover him. An ambulance arrives, but he doesn't understand... He didn't call one. The crew runs over to him, yelling about finding another causality. Another? Antonio! Francis would never forgive him if he didn't make sure he was okay.