Sorry I haven't written anything for the last couple of days, I've been horrendously sick...
Another drabble about Arthur being an arsehole... Am I the only one who likes the idea that Arthur really likes practical jokes? (Like his scare-contest with America every year... does that count? I don't know, it's a weird headcannon...) Also, teasing Francis is best Francis (You'll see what I mean at the end)
Monique is Monaco, Francis' sister, the only one who knows how to procure Francis' favourite wine, Arthur's go-to 'I'm sorry' gift... (Arthur has to call in favours a lot, and Monique has kept a record of them all for... use at a later date)
Enjoy ;)
"Do you see this?" Francis asked the camera, his tone one of a man that has had to deal with far too much for far too long.
"Everywhere..." he groaned as he pointed the camera around, "This is how I woke up this morning. No Arthur, just a note and this."
You might be wondering exactly what this is that's everywhere.
Well, to explain, first read Arthur's note...
Francis,
I'm sorry you didn't get to see me this morning, I couldn't wake you, not if I wanted to pull off my surprise for you.
Since, as you know, I'm going to be in America for the next few days, I thought I would leave you a little something so you're sure not to forget about me while I'm gone.
I love you.
Arthur
P.S. My brothers helped me out, so be sure to thank them as well.
Francis had frowned confusedly at that note when he'd read it, feeling around the bed, before concluding that whatever it was, it must be outside.
As soon as he'd opened the door he'd frozen.
No...
No, he didn't...
He. Did. Not.
He did.
Arthur's face.
Pictures of Arthur's stupid face.
Everywhere...
The walls.
The ceiling.
The tables and chairs.
The Appliances.
Even the inside of the fridge!
Everywhere.
"I tell you what," Francis said, turning the camera on himself, an irritated and determined scowl on his face, "I hope you're happy Arthur, because when you get home you will be sleeping on the couch for as many days as it takes hours for me to clean this all up."
"Shit dude!" Alfred laughed, slapping the guffawing Arthur on the back, "How long did that take?"
Arthur wiped his eyes, "It took the three of us a little over four hours," he said, "But it was so worth it."
"I can't believe your brothers agreed to help you."
Arthur laughed a little, "They like pissing Francis off almost as much as they like pissing me off," he said, waving a dismissive hand, "It wasn't a hard sell."
"You're gonna be on the couch for fuckin' ever. Y'know that right?"
Arthur nodded, a slightly contemplative scowl on his face. "You're right," he mused, "I'll have to figure out a way to make it up to him..."
Alfred opened his mouth to reply but couldn't get past the first syllable before Arthur spoke again.
"I think," he said distractedly, tapping his finger against his chin, "I need to call in a favour from Monique..."
To: Monique
From: Arthur
Can I ask you a favour?
To: Arthur
From: Monique
I saw the video.
When do you get back?
To: Monique
From: Arthur
Wednesday. 4:00pm
To: Arthur
From: Monique
I will be in London at 4:30, do not be late, or I'm drinking it myself.
"Francis, my love?" Arthur called sheepishly, peering through the gap in the door, before slipping through, and into the vandalism-free flat.
"Darling, I brought a peace-offering!" he called again, wondering if perhaps, Francis had gone out.
As he rounded the corner to the living room, he got his answer.
Francis was standing in the middle of the room.
He was standing in the middle of the room, in some kind of heavenly mixture of lace and something sheer and nothing else, a huge smirk on his face.
Arthur froze.
"Bonjour, mon petit lapin." Francis purred, and Arthur had a hard time swallowing the lump in his throat, "Je suis tellement contente que tu sois de retour. Je commençais à penser que j'avais habillé pour rien."
Francis slunk forward, the smirk on his face only getting wider the stiffer he saw Arthur become.
"I-I'm sorry..." Arthur stammered, "What was that?"
"I said," Francis said, licking his lips tauntingly, "I'm glad you're back, and that I was worried I had gotten all dressed up for nothing..."
"Is that so?" Arthur said, trying to keep his breath steady, but damn it, it was hard when Francis was like this...
Francis hummed in the affirmative, brushing past Arthur, and leaning in to breathe against his ear, "Now I'm free to go to bed knowing that the only thing you'll be thinking about while on that couch is me."
If you asked Francis later, he would say that the whimper that Arthur let out at that sentence was almost enough to make him turn around, but if you asked him again even later, he would say that the events of the next day made his own night of discomfort completely worth it.
Je suis tellement contente que tu sois de retour. Je commençais à penser que j'avais habillé pour rien. - I'm so glad you came back. I was beginning to think I had gotten dressed up for nothing.
Francis kinda translates it in the fic, but oh well...