Ok! This was it! Time to cowboy up, take the big plunge! Alfred's blue eyes shone brightly, intense with determination… until a moment later that determination faltered and wavered.
'What the hell am I doing?' The subversive thought made his palms suddenly feel quite sweaty, and he battled with his head, trying to get it to shut up. How often did people say he was an empty headed idiot? Why couldn't that be true right now? Why was his internal monologue suddenly so chatty when he'd rather it just shut up and let delusion come crawling out for playtime?
'That's right Alfred, get ready… time for some… for some… oh it's just a little man on man action. Nooo big deal at all!' Drawing upon the courage, the boldness, and that 'can-do' attitude he was so well known for, Alfred braced himself. He could do this, it'd be a snap. Seriously, how… how different was it really, if he just broke it down? No breasts… straighter hips… 'Oh, and the completely different junk down below, haha, just a small difference right?' He took in a deep breath.
Francis, though still smiling at him, had yet to make a move. He was watching him, and Alfred had the distinct impression the other man was terribly amused. He almost started to frown and pout about it but resisted. Now wasn't the time to let his nerves make him act like a child. Now was… now was practice time. Francis was here… willing to help him learn how to, erm, be with a man. It couldn't be that hard… right? It was just a matter of pretending… yeah… he just would pretend he was with a really… really straight figured woman.
Francis's laughter, soft as it was, snapped Alfred out of the mini daze he'd fallen into. "Well, shall we begin? Or is silently staring while making amusing faces your version of seduction?" The taunt Alfred heard in his voice made him scowl, lips twisting down. Was this a challenge? Because oh… Francis didn't know what he was getting into then! Alfred F. Jones didn't fall back from a challenge. Standing up straighter, Alfred reached out to grab the older man's shirt.
"Oh come on, as if anyone has to seduce you…" He trailed off for a moment, wondering if he should have said that. He… ok, that sort of made him sound like an ass. It was a low blow, even if Francis really did seem like the type who'd sleep with anyone, any time, and anywhere. 'Hmm, who knows, with the way he is, maybe he'd actually like a little romance turned his way.' He paused for a beat, realizing what he'd been thinking. 'Romance from someone not me!'
What the heck, suddenly considering Francis's emotions? This was all just… it wasn't as if this was supposed to be… well… it was just… this was just a lesson. If he could just think of it like practicing for a football game or something… then maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Just some physical activity, no need to muddy it up with feelings or…
'Al… shut the fuck up and get on with it.' He gave himself a good mental slap and shoved all these thoughts to the side.
Taking in a quick deep breath, Alfred abruptly tugged Francis closer, bringing his lips against the other man's with too much force and far too little finesse. He pressed their lips together, all but mashing them really, his fingers almost cramping they were holding to Francis's shirt so tightly, his body rigid all over. He kept them locked there, lips stuck together and perfectly still. He breathed through his nose in forced little puffs, heating up the skin of their lips and making their faces feel humid and sweaty and, well, gross.
'I knew it, I just knew it… kissing a guy is no good… oh man how the hell am I gonna complete the mission? I gotta act fast, before they stick me with guys. It's the only way!' While of course on some level he knew it wasn't the best kiss he'd ever given… ok not even close… his mind was quick to supply that it was as good as he could possibly do with a man.
Pulling away slightly, and letting go of Francis's shirt, Alfred stared almost defiantly at the other man. It was almost as if he were daring the other to insult him, though he didn't know why. Pride maybe. Putting on a grin that even he could tell was false, Alfred tried to play it off. "Ha, see? No problem, no problem at all. I can handle kissing a guy no problem. Easy… no need for us to continue this uh, lesson…" He broke away into nervous laughter, blue eyes averting away from Francis, who hadn't stepped back at all. The other man's silence, however, was making Alfred a bit nervous. Normally he was oblivious in situations like this… and yet this time it was different. He felt stupidly hyper aware.
Looking back to Francis, Alfred's laughter died away when he saw the other man's face. It wasn't just that Francis looked disappointed… it was more than that. The man's eyes were flat, as if he were so disgusted or perhaps frozen in disbelief over how bad the kiss had been. His lips were turned down slightly, parted as if he wished to comment on the lip lock. Alfred looked away again.
"Alfred… please tell me you're not proud of that kiss…" As much as it sounded like sarcasm, what really got Alfred attention was the fact that on some level, it actually sort of sounded like Francis was serious. As if the other man truly thought he was just a terrible kisser! Alfred's cheeks went crimson and he crossed his arms over his chest like a defiant child.
"What, it was fine!" He locked eyes with Francis who merely arched a brow, but in the end he let out a sigh, all his bluster and posturing melting away. His eyes looked rather morose now, his shoulders slumping. Francis's eyes seemed to turn softer at him, which somehow made it easier for Alfred to stop blustering and just… lament. "I know, it was terrible… really really bad. But, I mean, I don't know if I could do better. That'll be good enough, right? I mean… that'd be ok with a client, yeah?"
Francis sighed, reaching up to sweep his wavy hair over his shoulder, an almost pitying look on his face. "Would you pay for such a kiss?" It was a simple question, with a simple obvious answer.
"… no. Oh man Francis, what am I gonna do? Kissing a guy is a lot tougher than I'd thought it'd be!" He didn't really feel the need to say that anything more intense than that would be impossible. That fact lingered in the air, obvious and foreboding. He didn't expect Francis to grin at those words, and when the other blond did just that a tiny trickle of optimism wormed its way back into Alfred's chest.
"Ah but Alfred… did I not say I would teach you?" Francis cocked his head to the side, some of that coyness returning to his smile. "Surely you do not believe I meant I would be a kissing target for you? I do believe your case requires much more work than that…" He laughed at the face Alfred started to make, at the sullen glare being tossed his way. "Fear not, when it comes to love, you won't find a better teacher."
"This isn't… it's not love Francis." Alfred looked down at the ground, brows furrowed unhappily.
Francis let out a soft sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Alfred," he began, his tone low and serious. "Of course this…" he gestured over his shoulder with his hand, vaguely indicating the whole of Gallery Nine. "None of this is love… but in many ways, it is the illusion of it. We sell kisses and company, sex and passion, but we sell fantasy as well. We are the grand deceivers… we must manufacture emotion."
Alfred chewed on his lip, his eyes showing how clearly he struggled with the concept of it all. The hand Francis had on his shoulder reached up, gently beginning to caress and pet his cheek. The touch was light, almost ticklish, and Alfred felt his body shiver. 'Of course, it's freaky having a guy touch me…' Yet that thought felt a little… untrue… when he stared at Francis. If he didn't know better… if he honestly didn't know better… he'd swear Francis saw him as his one and only… as his true love.
And just like that, suddenly the look was gone. Suddenly the eyes were just mirthful and confident and Francis seemed amused. "I have taken this to an art, no?" His cheeks flushing red, Alfred refused to admit how much he'd fallen for it, how much he'd been made to believe Francis honestly… had… affection for him. "I said I would teach you… not simply help you to become acclimated to the concept. While I doubt you'll ever become as skilled as I, and it shall take more than one lesson no doubt, but… you have your charms… I'm certain we can find something that works for you."
It was a bit of a backwards compliment, but Alfred jumped on it. He'd always been a bit of a glutton for praise and attention. Arthur had tried to tease him, telling him that his exorbitant efforts at pleasing people and earning praise just showed how much of an insecure child he was. Alfred would always deny this. He wasn't insecure. It was just… it just felt good to be complimented; it just felt good to be liked. What was wrong with that? "So… how do we do this then?" Alfred had never been a good student, but the stakes were a bit higher here than just receiving a failing mark.
Francis reached out with his free hand, and gently began to nudge him back towards the table. Alfred looked at him curiously, but the man only smiled at him, those doting eyes staring at him again as if he were a treasure. "Sit back," Francis whispered softly, and Alfred obeyed, making certain not to sit on or knock over the coffee pot. He scooted back just a bit so that his knees were at the edge of the table, staring up at Francis as the other man moved so close to him.
"Close your eyes," the older man said softly. Alfred could swear he felt his heart leap against his ribs as a jolt of worry seized him.
"Wait… why?" He licked his lips. "I… I can't really do much to you if my eyes are closed…" And just like that, his panic got worse. His eyes went wide as saucers. "Wait a minute… you're not going to, I'm not going to be the one on bottom!" What the hell? He struggled to sit up, only to feel Francis push back against his chest, a strangely forceful gesture from the man who'd always been content to tease and retreat away.
"Alfred!" Francis's tone showed he was losing a bit of patience, and the younger man shut up. Had he ever seen Francis get pissed off since he'd come here? It subdued Alfred for now, and Francis seemed to relax a bit when he noticed. "Alfred… you know that none of us retain the right to choose our clients, we've all been stripped of the right to say 'no' to any of their whims and desires. We may only cry out if they seek to truly harm us, to break the contract. Otherwise… we have no freedom… we must bend to their desires. Whatever they may be."
Francis gave him a wan smile, his eyes clouding with darkened thoughts and unpleasant feelings. "There are many who would wish to tame a man like you Alfred, there will always be those who desire someone young and strong and handsome to take beneath them. You will be expected to submit. It is, of course, your choice to follow through with our lessons… or to simply find your first time out on the Second Floor. However…" Francis pursed his lips, biting the lower one for just a moment before trying to make his voice lighter, more encouraging.
"I truly do wish to help you Alfred… and I can most certainly teach you so that… no matter your position… your clients will be happy… which will make the bosses happy with you." He let his fingers reach to the younger man's neck, fingertips lightly drinking in the warmth of Alfred's skin. "Please Alfred… this is an ugly road we walk upon… let me do what I can to ease the hardships…"
Alfred felt his pulse racing, and he wasn't certain if it was from Francis's touch, his dire words, or those eyes of his… pleading for Alfred to agree with him. Quite honestly, Alfred was feeling dizzy over all of this, his situation wrapping itself around his thoughts like a coiling snake, sinking in further and further where he could hold no illusions about it. He let out a sigh, reaching up very tentatively to place his hand over Francis's. He gave a ghost of a smile to the other man, and then closed his eyes.
"Please," he whispered, and he was answered by a soothing caress to the soft skin at the nape of his neck. He shivered, feeling the table dip slightly as Francis brought a knee to rest upon it next to one of Alfred's legs.
"Just relax," Francis whispered back, Alfred startled by how close to his ear those words were uttered. He nodded his head slightly, stiffly, knowing that despite his efforts to listen, his body had other ideas. His muscles were rigid, his skin feeling hot from his nerves.
Still, those fingers continued to sooth the skin of his neck, gently petting him, kneading softly at the muscles. The fingers moved slowly, without hurry, as if trailing about and seeking something. Anything. Alfred remained frozen as he was, allowing Francis free reign to explore his neck as he pleased.
A slight tingle touched his scalp as those fingers moved up to trace and trail through his hair. Alfred let out a soft breath, enjoying the almost tickling sensation it caused. As those fingers continued to run through his blond locks, Alfred almost thought he could get comfortable, almost thought he could start to relax to this.
"It is not so different, you see? The touch of a man, is it?" Francis's voice tugged him away from mindlessness, reminding him that this was a 'lesson'. His eyes fluttered, wanting to open, yet he felt Francis lightly touch his eyelids with his free hand. It made Alfred's face flush suddenly, knowing that while he was blind, Francis was watching him, seeing him completely.
"It's… different," he managed to mutter out, feeling stupid for having to say anything.
"Bad?" Francis's voice was calm, curiously lilting. Alfred bit his lower lip for a moment, concentrating again on the feel of Francis's fingers in his hair. The older man's hands were certainly stronger, more firm, and larger than a woman's. They weren't calloused hands, but they were without a doubt masculine. 'But it's not… as gross as I'd thought it'd be I guess.'
"No, just… different… sort of weird." He seemed to be rewarded for his answer with a gentle caress through his hair, a small pet that was anything but fatherly.
"Good…" Francis purred, though his voice seemed genuinely pleased. Something in Alfred felt lighter, perhaps that lingering childhood need to please waking up to bask in the attention for a moment. His confidence was somewhat restored as well, for so far he wasn't finding it impossible to endure a man's hands on him. Still, so far they were only petting…
The table shifted slightly as Francis leaned forward more, and Alfred stiffened when he felt it. Right on his cheek, prickling it and pressing against it, was Francis's stubble, that sparse beard. The man had leaned in, letting their cheeks kiss, a small slight nuzzle. Alfred frowned, feeling the stiff little hairs poking at his flesh, wanting to reach up to brush them away.
"Couldn't you have shaved that first?" He complained, answered only by a tiny chuckle.
"I am rather fond of it thank you very much… tell me… does this disgust you?" Francis leaned his head towards Alfred, as if to make certain the younger would know it was the stubble he was referring to. Again Alfred had to take a moment to consider.
"No… but it's annoying, I don't like it." It prickled and poked, and though it felt fine so long as Francis didn't nuzzle him against the grain, he knew he'd rather the stubble wasn't there at all.
"Fair enough… fair enough." Again the older man seemed pleased by his words, encouraging Alfred once more.
The table began to shift again, and Alfred felt Francis draw his other leg up from the floor, both of his knees now on the table on either side of Alfred's legs. He took in a sharp breath, heart making a tiny jump as he realized Francis was kneeling over him. Would he sit, would he straddle him? He swallowed quickly, eyelids fluttering again as if he'd open them up. He barely managed to resist and keep them closed, still obeying Francis's request.
Two hands moved to cup the sides of his face lightly, tilting his chin up. On reflex he resisted at first, jerking his chin down stubbornly. No words were uttered at his refusal, no verbal or vocal coaching, just Francis's fingers holding his face gently, tenderly, patiently guiding him upward. Alfred could feel his own fingers trembling, and he pressed them to the table almost fiercely as he steeled his resolve. He tilted his head back, feeling the soft breath of the other man come closer.
Francis's lips met his own, and Alfred held his breath. It was so soft at first he almost wondered if he was imagining it, but the gentle pressure upon his upper lip was certainly not in his mind. The kiss was simple and light at first, Alfred not responding to it yet not finding any sort of sudden urge to vomit coiling up in his mind. As Francis's lips sweetly moved against his own, Alfred's mind wondered over the sensation of it.
The lips weren't as soft and full as many of the women he'd been with. Francis wore no lipstick, no flavored gloss or anything of the like. As the other man kissed him, occasionally he could feel that annoying stubble poking at his chin, like an ever present wakeup call that he was kissing a man.
'It's really not so… terrible…'
Could he… do it back?
Francis pulled away for just a moment, taking a small moment to breathe. Alfred again longed to open his eyes, to see Francis's face. That look… if Francis was wearing that look that said he needed him, that he cared for him… that stupidly intimate look… would it make this easier? Tougher? 'Clients won't look at me like that… I… I can't depend on this always being Francis.' It seemed to make sense now… why Alfred wasn't allowed to look.
Fingers slipped up along his neck, back and into his hair, and Alfred felt something inside him warm at the sensation. It felt so good, such a simple touch that traced and trailed over sensitive skin. He'd barely had time to sort through the feeling when the lips were back, moving against his and asking in silence for Alfred to respond.
Carefully, tentatively at first, Alfred finally did. He moved his lips, feeling almost immediately the pleased reaction from the other. Those hands in his hair tightened, not painfully, but enough to send tiny pinpricks of heat straight down his neck and to his shoulders. The lips against his pressed closer with a renewed passion, and as Alfred began to suck and pull upon the man's lower lip, he could feel his resistance to this act melting away.
A tongue flicked against his lips, feather light at first before it began to trail with slow yet purposeful strokes. Alfred found his lips parting far faster than he would have thought, jolting for a moment when Francis's tongue slipped into his mouth. For a brief moment he almost expected it to feel different, maybe giant or rough or some other nonsense, but it was nothing so alien or distressing.
Quite the contrary… it was smooth and wet and warm, and it was exploring his mouth with knowing caresses.
Both men broke apart for a moment, gasping in a deep breath of air, before their lips joined once more, mouths parting but seconds later so that they could plunge their tongues forward, explore and taste each other. The experience felt so new for Alfred, yet so blindingly similar and familiar to every other kiss he'd ever had before. Similar but, a dim corner of his mind hesitantly acknowledged, skillfully better.
His pulse quickened, the sound of his heartbeat thrumming through his ears louder than the gasping pants that escaped their noses and mouths as they kissed. He was invigorated and encouraged, emboldened by this. It was a heady mix his mind was swept up in. Not only was he suddenly confident that he could do this, but the kiss that seared across his lips was making him dizzy, almost as if he were drunk. Well, he had been… was he still now?
Such considerations were quickly fleeing from his head. The passion of the kiss smothered his senses, blinding him to the weight that was slowly pressing him back, making him ignorant of the hand that'd come loose from his hair, deaf to the sound of the coffee set being carefully pushed out of the way. Francis's weight was guiding him back, urging him to lie back on the tabletop. Alfred almost had the mind to protest, almost came to his senses enough to question this all, when the older man finally pressed closer.
Francis leaned his weight onto Alfred at last, pinning him down beneath him and sending a jolt of sensation straight up through the younger blond when just for a moment their groins met and rubbed in fleeting friction. Alfred couldn't help it, couldn't stop the tiny muffled groan that breathed up from his throat to his lips. Francis seemed to catch the sound in his own mouth, purring out a response of his own.
Their lips separated, for a moment the only sensation on Alfred's face the silky strands of the man's long wavy blond hair. God he wanted to look up, to open his eyes and see Francis and truly enjoy this! 'Wait… what?' No this wasn't right; he was getting too swept up in this… how exactly was this even happening? He tried to clear his mind, taking in slow shallow pants, but the feel of Francis's body above him, it was so difficult to sort this out.
"Francis… I…" he was feeling lost, confused, never a sensation that sat well with him. Alfred's heart fluttered in his chest, emotions warring in his breast. He needed to stop this… he wanted more of this… what did any of this mean… why was this ok? Was this ok?
"Alfred…" Francis's voice was deep, deliciously alluring and filled only with promises of passion and pleasure. It made the younger man's body heat up with want and desire, no matter how much his mind said this wasn't like him. Head and body, perhaps even heart, seemed at odds with each other, none of them knowing which was right. It should be simple… shouldn't it? The heat in his loins, the quickening of his heart and the hunger that had nothing to do with his stomach were clear enough weren't they?
The lips that suddenly sucked and nipped at his neck left only one answer, only a resounding 'yes' as Francis's tongue began to lap and tease and trace at the tender skin just below his ear. He felt the warm wetness trail along the paths of his veins, pressing in firm and deep to toy with the taut muscles under the skin. Alfred let out gasps of pleasure, reaching his hands up to clutch to the back of Francis's shirt.
His shirt? That's right, they were both still fully clothed.
The realization was equal parts maddening and soothing, leading the younger to become bolder, to rake and trail his hands over Francis's back as the man focused on his neck with his tongue. With his hands Francis began to lift Alfred's shirt, and though the impulse was there to stop him, the younger blond found he didn't really want to. Not enough to follow through with the motion.
"Ahh…" the fingers trailing up the skin of his side, those masculine fingers, tickled and felt so wonderful Alfred couldn't help but writhe a little under the touch. He didn't care where they were going, which way they ran over the planes and curves of his muscles, just so long as they didn't stop. The touch was almost searing it was so hot, so electric. Alfred was no virgin, and he'd certainly felt intense pleasure before with his partners but this? This…?
The unknown could thrill as much as it could terrify, and the combination of both those emotions was leaving him all but senseless to understand anything. Never had he really been tempted to let go so completely, never had a woman dominated him to the point of true submission. It was a horrifyingly tempting thought.
"F-Francis!" The feel of a nail grazing over one of his nipples made him jolt upwards, a fast twitch of reflex. Whether he'd enjoyed it or not was lost on him, the feeling so sharp and sudden his body had moved of its own accord.
Lips traveled up from his neck, leaving teasing licking kisses in a trail upwards until Alfred found his lips claimed once more. Tongues battled and danced, for Alfred hadn't given himself to this completely, was too much on the border to fall into passion just yet. Still, with every second that passed and every stroke of a finger, the desire to lose himself seemed more and more appealing.
Slowly Francis rolled his hips forward, slowly bringing his body up and along Alfred's, and the younger man had to moan in response. He wanted this… he—
The knocking at the door almost didn't reach him in his lust induced haze, and it seemed for a moment as if it'd been lost upon Francis as well. The older man continued to grind so tantalizingly slowly upon him, working Alfred up and filling his gut with an urgent desire.
The knocking grew louder, more insistent, and Alfred almost wanted to snarl. As it was he let out a whine when he felt Francis's weight growing lighter, moving away from him. In a panic Alfred opened his eyes, blue gaze meeting blue, before he clutched his fingers tighter on Francis's shirt, keeping him in place. The older man seemed flushed and… confused? Surprised? The look itself threw Alfred off, as the two suddenly stared at each other as if they weren't truly sure just what was going on.
There was passion in their eyes; there was want… there was more? No, should there be more? Should there be anything? Both lips moved as if to speak, when the door was finally thrust open, and a very nervous and worried looking Toris entered the room.
"Alfred, are you in here? Are you alright a—" Green eyes shot wide as the brunette finally noticed the pair on the table, noted the compromising position of the pair. For a moment Alfred just stared back at Toris, baffled about his presence. "W-what… I mean… I… you… that is…" Toris tried and failed to compose himself for a few moments more before his face went cherry red and his fists curled at his sides.
"Francis! I have been looking for you! You have a client coming up in fifteen minutes! What are you d-doing in here?" Realizing that he actually didn't want to know, he hurried on with his reprimands. "Hurry up and come on! She may be one of your regulars but that doesn't mean you can make her wait."
Recovering his wits far faster than Alfred was apparently, the older blond all but slunk his way off of Alfred and the table, his movements fluid and remarkably composed. Striding away from the table and the dazed young man upon it, it seemed as if he hadn't a thing to be ashamed of.
"My night tonight is with the enchanting Ms. Desrosiers, no?" He chuckled as he moved to Toris's side, a smile upon his face and his eyes twinkling with mirth. "If you have prepared the room, there is little for me to do but slip out of my clothing."
Toris let out a suffering sigh, casting a worried glance to Alfred who was still lying back on the table, oblivious to the concern sent his way. Francis as well paused to look at him, his features an all but unreadable mixture.
"Come Toris, I believe Alfred may need some time alone…" The sound of his name stirred him slightly, Alfred shooting a look to the two in his doorway. Mostly he looked to Francis, and the older man gave him an encouraging grin. "You did wonderfully… truly…" As condescending as those words could have been said, Francis said them in such a gentle way that Alfred couldn't find it in him to grow upset. Truthfully… he couldn't seem to find the presence of mind to feel anything.
His door was shut… he was left alone… and for the span of many minutes, he did nothing but lie on the table staring blankly at the ceiling.
It hit him of course, it had to. It couldn't happen until his heart had calmed and his breathing slowed, but when it struck it was enough to whip him up into frenzy once more. He bolted upright, eyes flaring wide and face staining red.
"What the fuck just happened?" He didn't quite yell it, but it was no whisper. The words strangled out of his throat, hot and incredulous and just as dumbfounded as the rest of him. A hand was slapped up to his hair, roughly shoving his bangs back and out of his face, as if he could somehow find some sort of mental clarity that way.
Seriously… seriously… had that really just happened? He all but leapt off the table, taking to pacing through his room like a wild beast, his blue eyes wide and sharp enough only to keep him from running into anything. His lips moved to form words and phrases that never found voice, and the tremor in his fingers gave away just a fraction of his abused nerves.
Part of him wanted to just vehemently deny everything that had just happened. It'd been a dream, no no no, a nightmare, and he was going to wake up and be… be…
"Shit!" If he woke up he'd only still be here, and still be in this predicament which would only mean this situation could still happen. "Oh god…" he breathed, his voice breaking in a way that he knew was non-heroic but that he couldn't exactly stop. His stomach churned, and though it wasn't enough to send him sprinting to the bathroom, Alfred began to feel faint and sick.
He collapsed to his bed, turning over and over before a restless energy in his gut forced him to sit up, draping his legs over the side. He reached up and fisted at his hair, tugging at it enough to hurt, but nothing so terrible as to yank chunks out. He shook his head as he held it, mind replaying for him the scenes from the table, taunting him with his responses and actions.
He had not, he knew, behaved entirely like a straight man being forced into sex with another male. 'Oh shit…' He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, feeling a horrible restricting weight pressing on his chest, a cold lump sitting in his throat.
He didn't want to deal with this… what the hell was this? This was a job! This was a mission. This wasn't some sort of fucking retreat for finding out his sexuality! "I've gotta complete my mission… I've gotta complete my mission…" He began to whisper it hoarsely like a mantra, anything to block out the horrid suspicion about why he'd dealt with their little lesson so very well.
"This place, this place is doing this to me… this place is making me… it's… I'm not… that is..." Oh god heroes didn't hide behind excuses, but Alfred couldn't own up to this, he couldn't face it. He dropped his hands to his sides, eyes shooting wide and staring straight ahead in a desperate and fevered determination.
"I'm cracking this case tomorrow… no more delays." Without anyone there to tell him to cool his head, to berate him and demand he not do anything rash, Alfred's mind declared he'd be springing into action. You could hardly say he was proceeding with his eyes open, the phrase 'look before you leap' wasted upon him. He stared at the wall in front of him, chewing at his lower lip and trying to remind himself that people and places couldn't just turn you well… gay.
Though maybe that thought was more comforting than the possible alternative.
x x x x x x x x x x x x
Francis usually adored Nicole Desrosiers's visits. Not only was she a gorgeous woman of midnight black hair and sensuous curves, but her whims and fetishes were truly deliciously similar to his own. The woman's adoration of roses rivaled his, and their sessions together were a florist's paradise. How many women would respond so passionately to a man clad only in a strategically placed rose? How many understood how the flowers could be such a heady and heavenly perfume, how perfect it was to make love surrounded in?
The woman was always a true pleasure, always someone whom Francis could hardly consider a client for all that he foolishly looked forward to having the chance to share himself with such a lady.
It was so strange to him, then, when he could not seem to keep his mind to her, could not seem to find the same passion for her as he typically did. Even as he brushed the petals of a rose along her creamy white breast, dusting it as if he were a painter and she the canvas, was his attention painfully worlds away from her. Her cooing words of French were not the music to his ears they normally were, no matter how seductively he whispered back to her in the same tongue. Oh he was certainly aware enough to know just where his mind was… the question was… why?
He'd done this before… he'd coached and coaxed and eased new Hosts into the full breadth and width of their lives here. Men and women, those who'd been more fluid in their sexualities or more rigid than Alfred… as cheap as it made him sound, Francis had worked with nearly all types. The turnover wasn't massive with the Hosts, but it was enough that he'd known his fair share or fellow 'entertainers'.
Yes, he always came to care for them… how could he not? In a strange way they became family, little brothers or sisters, comrades in arms and the only caring support any of them would find. They always had each other, could always rely on each other for comfort.
Alfred was proving strange, and it worried Francis.
He would apologize profusely to Nicole later for the way his thoughts strayed away from her during this session later, but for now Francis's body truly seemed to be on autopilot. Even as he moved within her, even as he responded and reacted to each and every breathy note and request she made of him, he couldn't help but think of Alfred.
'It is because… for once… I have seen hope. There is a light he brings with him… a promise of freedom not only for myself but for all of the others…' Yes… it was that small burning flame of possibility, of opportunity, that must have caught Francis's attention. Never had he ever seen a way for this to end. He'd not sought it out, but now that it was here? Blinding his eyes? How could he not want to fan the flames? How could he not want to dive into them if it would only help to bring down the Gallery and the horrible men who ran it?
To think, Feliciano could go home to the man of his portrait, to think Berwald could be reunited with the wife he spoke (well, muttered) so fondly about! His mind raced over the other Hosts, from the gorgeous blond from Belgium to others… yes yes… even if Francis could have found a perverse sort of happiness here, the others all deserved their lives back!
The Gallery could blind you, could warp who you were and leave you stupid from passion, but nothing could truly wash away the former lives of the Hosts. There was a world outside they'd been stripped from… and though he was stupid and foolish and terribly impetuous, Alfred had charged in here to do just that.
It was absurd, and Francis knew he was much too old to be swept away thinking childish thoughts like this, but deep down he truly was hoping that Alfred was the hero he kept claiming he was.
Even if Francis needed to coach and coax and groom him into that knight and shining armor personally.
The thought of freedom, of Alfred opening the doors of the Gallery wide for them to escape from, filled Francis with that doting warmth again, which he displaced for now upon the breathless and sated Ms. Desrosiers. As he wrapped his arms about her, cuddling and petting her and coming down from the physical pleasure they'd shared, he whispered words of endearment he knew he meant for someone else.
Surely it was only hope that made his heart beat so quickly around Alfred, surely he… Francis… was not losing his heart to some immature young man. There was certainly no time requirement for falling in love in his book… but was this really what this was? A smile tugged at his lips, wistful before he hid it away with a kiss to Nicole's lips. It'd been so very long since he'd felt love for someone, emotions deep enough to truly warm his heart and make him seem foolish as a slave to amour.
Though more willing to embrace the truth than a certain other blond at this point, Francis could tell that his affection did not run that deep for Alfred. 'Ah but it could if I'm not careful…' It was such an absurd thought when he considered the younger man, yet love was love, was it not? He would have to be careful in their future lessons, lest he forget himself, lest he do something to risk that freedom Alfred could bring.
Author's Notes:
A thousand apologies for how long this chapter took to write. I'll save the excuses, they're all irrelevant to ya'll anyway. I do promise everyone this though: No matter how long a chapter takes me, please be assured I am very devoted to my fics and (though I don't have any fics on my account to prove this yet), complete all the ones I start.
As an additional apology, the proofing of this fic was a bit rushed, I apologize if the typos are greater in number than they should be.