Woo~ Second hapter already~

Arthur was a little shocked that he couldn't tell this man's nationality from the moment he saw him. He of course had the beautiful and brilliantly kept hair, glossy like he had been pampering it before he came out. His eyes were pure though of course had that hidden adoration in them and caring self, blue bouncing off of green as their eyes met. He had from what he could see, silk like skin that probably would be smooth by the touch, which Arthur was tempted to reach out and cup the French man's cheeks in his hand and run his thumbs across the tempting skin. He had a crooked smile that Arthur new most French men had, since they were all perverts who drew women and well people to their beds whenever they wanted, with looks alone. Arthur decided upon leaving now, he new the man was capable of now getting up and leaving the beach, and Arthur was also pondering on why the hell this man was here anyhow. This beach was deserted for a reason, since loads of fossil hunters had made the cliff sides weak and they collapsed a lot. This guy was just looking for trouble, or looking for someone to find his buried body after he comes face to face with the cliff face.

Arthur eased up, knees wobbling slightly as the new wave of guilt spread across his body. The man looked fully confused on why Arthur was getting up, though there was also worry in those deep pools.

Arthur coughed a little, clearing his throat before he announced formally, "I'm sorry that you got in this situation, though you seem to be fit enough to make it out of here by yourself." Arthur nodded to the man, who suddenly shot an awful smirk at him. The hair on Arthur's neck bristled as the Foreigner replied with, "Ahh if you want to act like a proper gentleman, you may want to consider getting lessons on being polite, qui?"
Arthur's cheeks suddenly went red, his pride all thrown out the door as he gritted his teeth, watching the man get up swiftly. He looked like such a pansy! Brushing himself down and all, checking to see his hair was okay also.
"I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I can assure you-"

"Je suis vraiment d sol mon cher, I should not of talked that way to you after you came to see if I was al-right." The French man sighed softly, rubbing his temples. He looked like he was in pain? The anger started to slip away from Arthur's expression, which now was replaced with concern. He approached the French man, slightly bent over and peering from underneath to get a better look at the French man's face. "Are you al-right?" Arthur blinked, the French man's eyes were squeezed shut and he was frowning an awful lot.

One thing Arthur new that the French were very loving passionate people, so one, he would have to be careful, and two, he was worried as this man was not doing as he expected from first meeting. Suddenly, the blue eyes appeared again as he looked down onto the Arthur's face, a smile appearing as he seemed to swell up with happiness. Arthur just returned the smile with a shocked look and blush, drawing himself back so he was standing up straight. Francis softly brushed his hair back, grinning at Arthur as he looked him up and down, "You look so cute in that outfit Monsieur, and before my manners seem to slip..." He brushed his hand so quickly across Arthur's that he let out a yelp as the French man held it, placing a kiss on the smooth part of the back of his hand. Soon continuing as he winked to Arthur's now flushed face, "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. May I ask of yours?"

His smile widened, looking like a crude smirk. Arthur was drawn back slightly, gulping with a shaky reply, "M-my name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland..." He quickly pulled his hand back after noticing the French man's lips were centre metres away from the surface. "May I ask what you are doing on this beach? I'm sure you saw a sign not far from here explaining why you must not really venture onto this beach." Arthur huffed, whipping his head around just in case there was a sign nearby. Francis pouted back at Arthur, "No, I did not. I thought this beach looked magnificent from up there... also the scenery and the calmness of everything is great for painting amongst." He chuckled, sly look crossing his face.

"May I ask why you are here if I am not allowed?" He kept his eyes fixed to Arthur, which made him hop foot to foot in a nervous attempt to make Francis drop his gaze. He huffed, burying his face into the top of his hoodie as he looked down, "I was playing football and the ball rolled off the cliff... When I came down to find it I saw you and my ball..." He glanced up, catching Francis grimacing as he replied with a low mutter, "So that's what hit moi..." He shook his head, looking pleased than ever. "I'm sure you drove here, since there are no settlements for miles, as far as I know." Francis asked, though Arthur scoffed and shook his head.

"I for one don't like to drive, it is dangerous. Also, I live around here." "Ahh! Qui est brillante! Do you mind if I return with you so I may call a cab to a hotel I'm supposed to be staying at tonight? If it is not a bother of course." Arthur became slightly weary. He never had visitors, actually he couldn't remember that last time anyone entered his home but him. He generally hated people as a whole as they mocked him most of the time for his attitude and his ... eyebrows.

"N-no not at all Francis... I mean sir." Arthur could tell this man was older than him, only by a few though since he had the young and handsome charm about him still. Francis eyes lit up as he replied with an ecstatic tone, "Ahh Merci vous homme adorable anglais! I shall get my things quickly, they are only over there." Before Arthur could even ask about what the hell the French man said, he was bounding off down the beach to where a few bags were sitting against a rock.

Arthur sighed, feeling stupid for inviting not only a stranger but a French man into his home. Hopefully it would not last long. Arthur scuffed the front of his football boots against the cliff side, kicking it lightly with his hands in his pockets, pondering over the situation. It should not be a big deal, since this man was obviously quite unsure about England, and was obviously a foreigner as he still added quirky French into his sentences. Arthur despised it a little since he didn't have a single clue of what he said, though the words echoed in Arthur's head. They sounded pretty, charming and full of passion. The French language always seemed to have that affect on the person listening, since it was the language of love.

Scoffing loudly, Arthur gave another playful kick, though his scoff was now drowned out by a sudden groaning coming from the towering cliff above him. Arthur's breath hitched, eyes growing wide as he felt that same tingle run down his spine as what happened outside with the football.
"Monsieur! D placer!" A sudden cry came from his left, drawing his attention to the French man now racing down the beach, dropping his bags on the way. Arthur glared, forgetting about the rocks and just thinking about what the friggin' hell he was shouting, though something hit him. Arthur let out a yelp, before tumbling back and collapsing onto the sand. All went dark, only distant cries of a confused French man lingered about, with the scent of roses now filling his nostrils as he started to slip away into a sleep.

A wafting sweet scent filled the air. Arthur felt warm and cosy, like he was wrapped in a blanket and was wearing pure cotton. Suddenly slipping back into reality, Arthur's eyes fluttered open. His vision was slightly blurry though he could see he was facing the back rest off the sofa. Arthur smiled, knowing everything he thought happened was actually just a dream! Good, because he did not want visitors-

Arthur suddenly felt a rush of pain spill over his head, and he let out a pain filled piercing cry. His whole body cringed and he brought his hands up to grasp his hair. He was in complete agony, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Thoughts now spilled into his head. Was he going to die? The pain sure was real enough and hurt enough to be something near to death. He rested his head back down on the bottom of the sofa, well what he though was the sofa. He felt shifting under his legs, which were either side of something. Suddenly, it jerked forward and a man sat up, rubbing his eyes. Arthur gaped. Why the hell- so it wasn't a dream! This was the French man from the beach that he invited back...

"Mon doux! What is the matter?" He was fully awake, concern filling his eyes like a reflection of the face he gave Francis when he thought the man was in pain. He didn't want to cry in front of this bastard who had obviously seen him naked now, since Arthur was in a loose white shirt and blue shorts. The emotion ended up swelling so badly that huge tears were released and now rolled down his cheeks, eyes becoming red and watery. Francis gasped and leaned forward, his thumbs softly paced under his eyes as they brushed the gathering tears away.

What the hell! Arthur would of jumped off of this man and started beating him to death if it wasn't for the pain that struck him everything he tried to think about this awkward situation.

"G-get lost!" Arthur wailed, eyes clamping shut as he started to cry harder, bringing the backs of his hands up to wipe them away himself. The French man just tutted, sympathy filling his voice as he brought his strong arms around Arthur, pulling him close as he started to mutter comforting words to the now gob-smacked Brit.

He, never in his life had ever received such attention from anyone, apart from when he was a baby, but he was now a twenty-three year old virgin with some French perv with no thought for other people's personal space, hugging him and comforting him like a couple would obviously do.

Arthur tried pulling away, but strong hands were placed on his waist as he was hauled up onto Francis lap. Arthur bit his lip, blushing heavily with the attention.

"Arthur, you warned me about venturing near the tumbling rocks of the cliff yet you yourself was not cautious enough.." His graceful fingers traced around the top of Arthur's forehead, before moving some of his fringe out of the way, revealing a sore bruise. He was careful not to touch it, though Arthur did not trust him as his dainty fingers wrapped around Francis' hand to prise it away. Francis looked a little hurt, though was more pleased Arthur was awake.

"H-how did you get back here, with me.." His blush darkened when he looked at where he was laying on top of the French man, and at the fact Francis had changed Arthur into more comfy clothes.

"I carried you back up a footpath with you hung over my shoulders, I also had to drag my luggage along. I was wondering around for quite some time until I came across your huge house, excusez-moi I mean mansion." His eyes glittered with pride for being able to help Arthur out. Arthur did not return the respectable look Francis seemed to long for, though he cocked his eyebrow.

"Yet, you could of dumped me in the sea and taken my keys which include my house key, car key and safe key?" Arthur questioned, a little displeased that he said it though it was true. That was one thing most people thought in those types of situations.

Francis gasped, fluttering his eyes as he said in a hurt voice, "Quelle horreur! I would not do such a thing to such a cute English man! You helped out moi when he was hit in the head, so moi helped his cher out when he was hit in the head by a rock. It was pretty big. I was hoping to ring a hospital when I go back, though I did not know what number to use.." He bit his lip, ashamed and guilty.

"I was so worried I decided to get you into more suitable clothes and lay with you just in case something happened. Oh Arthur, I'm tres pleased you are al-right." The French man hugged Arthur more close, more personal than he wanted. Arthur just ended up doing the opposite to what his normal actions would be, as he now lay his head under Francis' chin, hiccuping slightly.

"I can assure you I am in a lot of pain, though, I do believe I am well enough to look after myself, sorry to disappoint you.." He wanted Francis to stay, though he new it was to much of a step forward to suddenly turn around to a stranger, or a rescuer and ask them to spend the night after finding out he undressed you and dressed you again, and let you lay on top of him like an innocent lover.

Arthur glanced over to the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of his room, gaping. It was 11:30? That could not be possible since he went out around 3pm. He looked out of the drawn curtains just to see pitch black. Of course he had to sleep for such a long time! Arthur new deep down he could not suddenly push Francis out of his home at such an hour. Francis was just watching, a smile embedded as he watched Arthur ponder over things.

"Do you... do you want to spend the night here..." Francis smile dropped, looking slightly shocked. Arthur spluttered and continued, backing it up so it didn't sound corny or weird, "..Well you don't have to of course, but It's extremely late and I would hate to just send you away so soon..." He gulped, watching Francis. He had just completely screwed up his reputation of being some scrawny and angry English man.

"Qui! That is so darling of you!" The French man suddenly blurted out, placing one of his hands on top of Arthur's head, ruffling his hair up. He could hear him snicker slightly as he commented dangerously, "So cute, your hair is very 'punk' like." Arthur just screwed his face up and growled, "You're french, you do not know the word even if you tattooed it on your dick." Francis just laughed back at the now reddening English man. Arthur himself was a little punk, as he still owned a few outfits from his teenager years and had these big black boots, covered in buckles and spikes. Arthur couldn't believe he hadn't thrown them out years ago as he replaced his wardrobe with more gentleman things, though the punk seemed to stay as he wore union jack shirts with netting, skinny jeans and bandannas still.

Arthur struggled, desperate now to get out of the French man's grip. He was not helping by smothering poor Arthur, since his head felt like someone was constantly throwing brick at his head. Arthur ended up grabbing a clump of Francis's hair and yanking so hard it made the French man scream almost.

"Abandonner! Stop it!"

" I want out!" Arthur sneered, Francis letting him free and pulled away, a mocking sob coming from Francis. The French man pretended to cry, as they were good actors.

"I'm not sure why you are so nice one minute, and the next it's like you suddenly hate moi?" Arthur scoffed when Francis said this, as he could see a sly grin sudden spread across his face as he winked.

Arthur laughed a little, sliding off the sofa before turning back round to Francis.
"I have many rooms in the house, you can pick any spare room to stay in." Arthur nodded, grabbing the French man's bags, though ended up dropping them back down.

"What the hell..."

"Ahh Merci mon amour, and be careful! I have my art supplies thankfully in the bag you did not just drop back down. I have other stuff in there too so let moi carry them. Wouldn't want you to fall and make another red mark on your head." he sniggered, Arthur scowling as he already left Francis and his bags downstairs, calling back, "Fine! Take them to your room by yourself! Oh and one more thing... Don't decided to wank in any of the spare beds because I'm the one who has to clean it up." With that Arthur marched to his room, of course he just got so frustrated with every petty comment, though that was Arthur for you.

Francis chuckled before bringing a soft smiled to his face as he stood there alone now, though he could still ear the English man talking to himself loudly. How peculiar! Francis grabbed his bags and now made his way up the stairs. His bags were not as heavy as Arthur made them out to be, though he had such a smaller frame so it was fine. Francis found a large room, not to far from one of the bathrooms though furthest from Arthur's, which was a shame. Francis ended up shoving his bags in a corner before pulling all his clothes off, as he slept nude, and got comfy under his quilt.

Hopefully the Brit would stop whining.