Hello lovelies! Thank you so much for the reviews. Sorry for the long wait; we've both been really busy. But! Although this is a short chapter, it finally includes the return of Francis and Kiku.

Chapter Summary: Arthur tempts Francis into his old habits, but the discovery may destroy his relationship with Kiku.


Ch. 28: Vice

Francis cannot say if he is waking, because he is not sure if he was ever actually asleep. His mind is running a mile a minute as he stares at the ceiling and watches the lights twirl like girls dancing at the Moulin Rouge. There is another body tangled with him, half on top of him and half at his side. It's very warm, even though he's naked and the sheets on his bed are...somewhere. He doesn't know or care; nothing really matters but watching the lights spin in and out, in and out, over the ceiling and down the wall to land on his poster of the Eiffel Tower.

It feels like his body is floating with his head as the anchor. Francis forces himself to turn anyway and discovers a face beside his own. Blonde. Green, wide eyes darting about, as though expecting some flying apparition to attack them. Thick eyebrows. Oh. Arthur.

There is no sign of Foo Foo. There never is when he's with Francis. With a sigh of relief he's almost afraid to breathe, Artie reaches over and brushes the lovely blonde hair from Francis' face. He's gorgeous like this, fucked out of his mind and stoned to match. It had taken a little more coaxing this time to convince Frannie to take a hit – he'd claimed he was off the habit. But they all claim so sometimes. It took barely a breath of the stuff before Francis was indulging with him, wrapped around him, breathing in smoke and riding his cock like he'd been dying for a taste. "Christ, you're incredible. I could fuck you for ages."

"You're welcome to, as long as you pay." Francis laughs, breathless and too loudly. Sex is easy for him, and in moments like this it is completely uncomplicated. It's just a thing that makes everything feel better, takes them both closer to ecstasy. His hand strokes idly over Arthur's skin, exploring the texture with no real goal in mind.

Artie chuckles, feeling halfway pleasant for the first time in months. Leaning in, he kisses Francis' mouth and slides his hands down, gripping Francis' thighs so that he can pull him into his lap. He lets his head fall back while the whore settles above him, reaching toward the side table to search for his baggie. They need another, since Frannie smoked the last of the second spliff. Shows how over it he is. "God, I missed this. Got you for the whole night, don't I?"

"Yes, mon cher," Francis promises, grinding against Artie's renewed interest. He's actually rather fond of nights with this particular cop. Perhaps it has something to do with the drugs that they smoke together, that he takes and gives to Artie with his mouth around his cock, that Artie snorts off his stomach...he forgot how good it felt. No, not forgot; he could never really forget. His addictions have been on his mind every waking moment, following him to his dreams, making his fingers twitch and his body ache. He kept pushing it back, trying to concentrate on other things. Then Arthur showed up at his door, already smelling of sweet smoke and tempting him, promising to share, to pay for a full night, lighting up and blowing it in his face...and Francis was lost. He doesn't care that he broke his word anymore. He can't even remember why it matters. There's only Arthur, the room spinning around them, and whatever magic Artie's got in his hand.

XXX

Kiku is supposed to meet one of his regular johns in two hours, but the lobby isn't busy so he has some time to kill until then. Luckily, he knows just who to kill it with. He hasn't had the chance to chat with Francis in a couple of days. It will be good for them to catch up, and maybe have some no-frills fun. But when he reaches the third floor, where Francis' room is, he can smell smoke all the way down the hall. Kiku grits his teeth, hoping and praying that he is wrong, wrong, wrong. He can't... Francis can't be at it again. Yet as he nears the door, it's only getting stronger. For a moment he glares up at the rose painted on the wood above the room number, steadying his nerves. Then he grabs the doorknob and pushes into the room without knocking.

Kiku is not wrong. Francis is there, sprawled on top of that damnable cop, high as a paper kite. His heart, his stomach, and everything else in him sink straight down. He's hyperventilating, and so angry he feels like he might faint. His fists curl as he stands in the doorway, ignoring the smarmy asshole like he always does (unless he's being paid not to). His attention remains solely on Francis. How could he? How COULD he, after all that they went through?

"Francis?" His voice comes out low and deadly, like a snake's hiss.

Francis had ignored the open door; it happened often enough. The doors in the Rainbow are rarely locked, because it is safer for them to know that someone can get in than to fear that they will not be able to get out. It's the voice that makes his brain jumpstart. The effort to turn his head this time is too much, so he just lets it drop down on Artie's chest and refuses to look. He knows he's in trouble, but for some reason his brain won't quite process why. "Oui?" His voice is scratchy, like he's spent the night screaming. Or smoking.

"DAMMIT FRANCIS!" Absolutely furious, Kiku grabs the nearest object and flings it toward the bed. The vase of roses misses the couple and shatters against the back wall. Shaking with rage, Kiku wheels around and flees back down the hall. He wants to beat something to a pulp. Why can't anyone keep their goddamned promises?! He's crying. Why is he crying? Why didn't he expect this, like all the other bullshit that has made his life miserable? Everyone Kiku trusts hurts him. Everyone he cares for, everyone he loves... No one can keep a promise, so why does this one hurt so much?

Francis almost falls off Arthur as he ducks, reflexes slow and stumbling. He gets a mouthful of Arthur, tasting of chemicals, and now he remembers. Shit. Kiku is angry and it's his fault. He swore to Kiku that he'd never touch the stuff again. He tries to scramble off of Artie, falling off the bed onto the pile of sheets. He pulls them over his hips and tries to run after Kiku, but he's tangled now, and he can't get his feet under him. The walls are spinning. He doesn't even know which one has the door. "Fuck."