Hey everyone, I'm having a little difficulty writing the next chapter. Something just feels off to me about it (maybe I need to have it beta'd) so until I work it out, have, um, another filler. Sorry about all the fillers. I know this story has disappointed some people, but there will be more of the Francis & Matthew father/son relationship in the future. I have several chapters focusing mainly on Matthew planned out, I just need to get to them. And to pretentious kneecap, I hope the story updates properly for you this time! Thank you all for the reviews!
There were many things that Francis enjoyed in life. The sound of children's laughter, the feeling of rain on his skin, waking up to the sight of his husband laying next to him (and a good morning kiss, ohoho). But the things Francis enjoyed most were smells. Now, this wasn't to say he went around sniffing everything he could (far from it, in fact), he just had a highly developed sense of smell. There were very few things he disliked the scent of (which included skunks, overweight plumbers, and Arthur's cooking). He believed every scent was beautiful in its own unusual way, and applied this to the rest of life as well. However, there were some things which simply could not be called beautiful, one of which had led him to search his room in annoyance, one hand clamped carefully over his nose. He had encountered a rather foul odor upon entering the room earlier and now diligently sought out the source. He was becoming quite irritated as the cause of the stench continued to elude him, until he looked under the bed and caught sight of something that didn't quite belong. He grabbed hold of the fabric and tugged determinedly, finally pulling it out after much yanking. He held it up and scowled at it.
"Arthur! I found that sock you were looking for!"