"And that," Arthur slurred, slamming his mug of ale onto the bar, spilling the golden liquid to exaggerate his point, "is why my brothers are a bunch of wankers!" Francis simply nodded in agreement. He wasn't entirely sure what a wanker was, although it was most likely something derogatory, but he felt that disagreeing with Arthur when he was drinking was a bad idea. He took a sip of the red liquid that was apparently called wine which Arthur had ordered for him. They were both still on their first glass.
Upon their arrival at the pub, Arthur had got them both drinks, and a dinner of steak pie, which Francis found to be passable.
Arthur slumped onto the bar. Francis watched the hunched figure anxiously.
"Arthur?" He murmured. He liked Arthur's name; it was a lovely name, and it rolled off his synthetic tongue nicely. "Are you okay?" Arthur's head moved against the bar in a strange sort of nod, and he pushed himself up.
"I'm fine." The door of the bar opened, then closed as more patrons came in. "I just m-"
"Well, look who it is!" A rough, gravelly, accented voice called out. Arthurs head hit the bar as he yelled out several strong obscenities. Francis looked round to see who had spoken, and saw two men, one with a sharp grin, and the other looking rather cheerful, as if not even on this planet. The grinning man caught Francis' gaze, and his red eyes glinted. He sat next to Arthur, and the cheerful man sat next to him. Arthurs head hadn't moved from the table.
"Yo, bartender, a pint of your best German beer!" The red eyed man yelled. The bartender, a rather burly man, quickly filled a pint glass from the tap, and put it in front of the man. Was he intimidated by the silver haired German man?
"Cava, please," the other man chirped.
"A glass, or do you two have a night planned?" The bartender asked grimly. The cheerful smile stretched into an ominous grin.
"We won't be leaving for a while." The bartender left, and quickly returned with a carafe of red, sparkling wine and a glass.
"So, Artie, what brings you here?" The German asked, taking a long swig from his mug. Arthur's head rolled over to glare up at him.
"It's Arthur, kraut." The German's grin soured and his lips curled down.
"Watch your mouth, Captain America isn't here to save you anymore," he growled. His smile returned when he saw the beginning of tears in Arthur's eyes.
"Come on, Francis, let's go," he grumbled. He sat up, but before he could stand, the albino's thin, but strong hand took his wrist.
"Artie, where are your manners? Who's your friend?" Arthur glanced at Francis.
"This is Francis. Francis, these are two idiot's who I don't like." Francis smiled at the two men.
"It's nice to meet you," he said. They both laughed, and the German held his hand out.
"I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, Arthur's awesome Prussian friend." Francis looked at his hand, and whispered quietly and discreetly into Arthur's ear.
"Do I shake it?" Arthur nodded before taking another large gulp of ale. Francis shook hands with Gilbert.
"I'm Antonio," the other man smiled with a small wave. Half of the large jug of wine was gone.
"So, Arthur, how did you two meet?" Gilbert asked. Arthur's thick brows furrowed, unsure of how to answer.
"Kiku introduced us," he answered unsteadily. He didn't like the wolfish grin on Gilberts face. He didn't really like anything about Gilbert's face. Or Gilbert as a matter of fact.
"Really? Hmm." Gilbert examined Francis for a moment. "So, blond, blue eyes, tall... Is this Kiku guy your matchmaker or something, Artie? Cause this is the seco-"
"Shut your fucking mouth, Gilbert, before I shut it for you!" Arthur yelled.
"Gil, don't be mean to him," Antonio purred. Gilbert nodded. He'd done enough damage for now.
Arthur quickly downed the remainder of his drink, and paid for his and Francis' order. Francis drank the rest of the wine, which he was rather fond of. Arthur rose to his feet.
"Francis, let's get home." Francis nodded, and stood up.
"Whoa, he's living with you?" Gilbert asked incredulously. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, and nodded.
"Yeah, his apartment is having repairs done." And with that, the duo left.
"You have interesting friends, Arthur." Francis announced once they had reached Arthur's small home. The walk home had been a feat, with Francis having to help Arthur as he stumbled around and spoke to a flying mint bunny, and someone called Marigold, neither of whom Francis could see.
"They're not my friends!" Arthur cried. Francis didn't reply. "I'm going to bed." He announced, and he started to stumble towards the stairs.
"Arthur?" Francis called. "Where do I sleep?" Arthur paused for a moment.
"Bollocks! I forgot to set up the guest room." His shimmering eyes met Francis', and it was quite a while before he realised he was staring at the man... Robot. "Ugh, you can sleep with me for tonight." Francis smiled, and helped Arthur upstairs. "First on the right," the drunken man directed. Francis led him through the door. Arthur flopped down to sit on the bed, and started to unbutton his shirt. Francis undid his own shirt, and slid it off, before looking to Arthur, who was struggling with his buttons.
He kneeled in front of him.
"Would you like some help?" He asked. Arthur frowned, but nodded. Francis' long, slim fingers made quick work of the buttons, and he slid the garment from Arthur's shoulders, leaning closer in order to do so. He heard Arthur give a shuddering sigh. Francis backed away, and noticed a red flush on Arthur's face. "Shall I help with your trousers to-"
"No!" Arthur cried. "I mean, I can do it myself." Francis removed his own while Arthur fumbled drunkenly with his own, eventually succeeding. They both crawled into bed.
"You stay on that side, and I'll stay on this one. Okay?" Arthur ordered rather than asked. Francis nodded, and they both quickly fell asleep.
"Well," Gilbert mused. "Artie's certainly lowered his standards if he's after a Frenchie." Antonio chuckled.
"No, it's not like that. Not yet." Gilbert shot his best friend a questioning look, which was returned with a smile which reached to his glazed emerald eyes. "Something special is happening there. Trust me, I'm Spanish. "