More of this... Whatever this is...

Anyway, so in this AU Francis' Channel is really a mishmash of wherever his mind takes him that day, (It's my headcannon that Francis is super driven by random inspiration, and has a new passion every other week) so sometimes it's days in the life, sometimes it's deep and controversial talks, sometimes it's fashion tips, sometimes it's him painting, sometimes it's him cooking and sometimes it's just him filming Arthur doing stupid things around the flat. Arthur doesn't understand how he has so many fans, what with how inconsistent his channel is, but he has a sneaking suspicion, only an inkling, mind you, that it's because he's really rather attractive (Well, if the comments on his 'Arthur and Francis Play' series are anything to go by) Not that he's jealous at all... or bitter... Certainly not.

Enjoy ;)

"Bonjour Mes Petites Lapins! Welcome to the 'Boyfriend Does My Make-up' tag!"

"Why did I agree to this?"

"I know for a fact you used to wear it!"

"Eyeliner doesn't count!"

"Not how you applied it."

Arthur just levelled a frown at the now giggling Francis next to him, who seemed to be desperately trying to hold in a snort. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, "Let's just get this over with."

"Great!" Francis grinned, "Now, if you don't know how this tag goes, Arthur here is given all the make-up I own and pretty much told to go wild."

"So I can do anything?" Arthur smirked.

"Within reason." Francis added quickly, giving Arthur a pointed look that didn't seem to do anything but make his feral grin wider.

"Well then," Arthur cooed, picking up the nearest bottle and shaking it threateningly, "Let's get started shall we?"

The pair's raucous laughter was all that could be heard anymore. Each time they managed to calm down Arthur would look back up at Francis and burst out again, dragging the Frenchman with him.

"I'm crying." Francis choked, wiping his eyes with a massive grin.

"No, no!" Arthur began, before another stream of laughter consumed him, "No, you'll smudge your-" he tried to say, gesturing at Francis' face, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

"I can't believe you-"

"You told me to go wild!"

"I said within reason!"

"I think it's totally reasonable!"

It wasn't. It was ridiculous. But that didn't matter, because laughter he got from Francis now was entirely worth the chastising he'd get when the camera turned off.

"This isn't coming off." Francis bemoaned in a deliberate tone that told Arthur that the message was meant for him, and only him.

Arthur bit his lip to hide a smile as he peeked his head into the bathroom, and was met with Francis's glaring blue eyes through both the mirror, and several layers of eyeliner, eye shadow, and lipstick. "I'm sure it will come off eventually, my dear," he said, with as straight a face as he could manage, "And I'm not going to say you brought this on yourself, but..." he left the sentence hanging, letting Francis' expression darken at the implications of his silence.

It was at this point that Francis turned his attention back to his reflection, muttering to himself in French too low for Arthur to try to translate, but he was sure he heard more than a few swear words, coupled with something he vaguely translated into "Stupid Englishman... No boundaries..."

"Am I safe in my assumption that I'll be on the couch tonight?" Arthur asked, cutting off Francis' tirade.

The Frenchman turned around, sighing heavily, "No," he said, running a hand through his hair and dislodging a few strands from the ponytail it was tied in, "I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Oui, it made for a good video once it's edited, I'm sure. So, no, Arthur, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch." He made a strange expression, somewhere between a smile and a scowl, which came out as a sort of grimace.

Arthur smiled slightly and slinked over to him, "If it makes you feel any better," he said, tucking the stray strands of hair from Francis' face, "You look gorgeous even covered in a few layers of smeared eyeliner."

Francis chuckled, wrapping his arms around Arthur neck and smiled dryly, "Perhaps, you're not sleeping on the couch," he said, leaning close enough to rub their noses together, "But I'm still not sleeping with you tonight."

And with that, he pushed Arthur back, turned around, and resumed the removal of the makeup.

Arthur sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he retreated from the room. Well, he supposed, I deserved that.