Arthur enjoyed doing many things to relax; a long bath, a night of Monty Python reruns, reliving his younger years by listening to some old Sex Pistols albums, hell, if it was in question, he'd have sex. But his favourite thing to do was curl up on his favourite armchair, with a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, and a classic of English literature. Tonight's piece was 'Pride and Prejudice', and goddamn it he was not any less of a man for thinking that Mr Darcy was a charming gentleman!
He sighed, remembering how Alfred would tease him for his enjoyment of these books.
"Artie, why are you reading that again?" Alfred would ask him for the sole reason of being bored.
"Because, Alfred, it is a piece of Classical literature, and there is nothing wrong with rereading a book you enjoy." That was always Arthur's answer. The whole conversation was already known to them both; they had the same one regularly.
"But why read it again? You know how it's gonna end!" The American would pout, prompting Arthur to look up at him and roll his eyes.
"And how often have you seen those horrid 'Die Hard' films?" And then that giant smile would replace the sulk.
"But Artie, they're so cool!" He'd squeal. "John McClane is such a bad ass guy, y'know? I mean, he's just a cop, and he kills a whole building of terrorists!" Arthur would then sigh, and shake his head.
"And thus you know the ending." He would proclaim smugly.
Alfred's pout would then return briefly, only for the grin to return.
"Those books are so girly though." His grin then transformed into a smirk when Arthurs brows knitted in a frown.
"The works of the Brontë sisters, Austen, Shakespeare, Dickens, and all other classical writers were written for men and women of all ages, Alfred."
"Yeah, but look at this one! I can't even pronounce the name on the front of it!" Alfred would cry incredulously, glad to be getting the attention he wanted. "Eey… eii…"
"It says 'Jane Eyre' you idiot!" Arthur groaned."It isn't that difficult."
"Well, I bet that book doesn't even have a hero!"
"The male protagonist i-"
"The what?" Arthur groaned.
"The 'good guy'." He would explain. He was sick of dumbing things down for Alfred. "Is Edward Rochester." Alfred would then tut.
"That's not a heroic name," he would announce. "You know what a really heroic name is?" Arthur would shake his head, pretending he didn't know what was coming next to keep the other man, his boyfriend, happy.
Alfred would leap to his feet, his hands on his hips, and a wide grin spread across his sun-kissed face. "Alfred F. Jones! That's the name of a real hero!" His laugh was so happy and carefree that Arthur couldn't help but crack a smile along with him. Alfred would perch himself on the arm of the chair, his grin replaced by a loving, soft smile. "See? A real hero can make their love smile." His lids would close over his clear, blue eyes, and his face would get closer to Arthur's, who would lean up to seal their lips in a sweet kiss. Alfred's soft lips would almost caress Arthur's and a warm hand would cradle his cheek…
Arthur felt a hand against his cheek; his own, as he wiped away a single tear. He sighed sadly, and then checked his watch. He had to pull himself together; Francis would be home any minute. He went to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. Just when the device clicked, indicating that the water had boiled, Francis came bounding through the front door with as much elegance as one can show whilst doing such a thing.
"Arthur, Mon Cher, I'm home!" Arthur had no idea where Francis had picked up this habit of calling him 'Mon Cher', but he didn't like it… Well, he did, but he wouldn't tell Francis! He was soon joined in the kitchen by the supposed Frenchman.
"Tea?" Arthur offered, stirring a cup of Oolong. Francis shook his head, but gave Arthur a curious look.
"Cher, your eyes are all red and puffy. What's wrong?" Arthur looked away from him.
"Nothing." He lied.
"Did you try cooking again?" Try cooking? Why, that rude, irritating, arrogant-
"Yes, the smoke hurt my eyes." Another lie, but it wasn't like a robot could tell, right?
Suddenly, a pair of strong arms were wrapped around his waist.
"Please tell me the truth," Francis whispered, his voice like silk. He felt the smaller man tremble slightly in his warm hold.
"I- Oh, bloody hell, I was thinking about Alfred, okay?" Arthur groaned, his voice ready to crack. Francis sighed.
"Alfred… He is the one you love, non?" A dreadful feeling washed over him when Arthur nodded. His sandy hair tickled Francis' cheek.
"I miss him…" Arthur whispered. This wasn't going in Francis' favour; Antonio had said that by now it should be safe for him to try to win Arthurs heart, but how could that happen when he loved another?
…That was it, Antonio!
"Mon Cher, I have an idea, something to take your mind from Alfred." Arthur made a small noise, urging Francis to continue. "Antonio asked if I wanted to go to the beach tomorrow with some others. Would you like to go?" Arthur considered this, gently removing Francis arms from his waist, and sipping his freshly brewed tea.
"Who else is going?" He questioned.
"Antonio and Lovino, Feliciano and his boyfriend, and Gilbert and… Gilbert is bringing someone too." Arthur nodded.
"So, Ludwig and Roderich will be there… Alright, but we have a problem." Francis tilted his head a little. "The beach has lots of water, and you're a robot." His concern was waved off.
"I'm waterproof. For maximum realism!"
Of course he was…
"Where the bloody hell is everyone?" Arthur grumbled. He was sat on a large towel with Francis, who had already insisted on stripping down to his swimming trunks. Everyone was ten minutes late, and Arthur did not react well to unpunctuality. He was putting on his fifth layer of sun cream ("It isn't being paranoid, it's being safe!") when four men started walking towards them.
"Hola!" Antonio cried with a wide grin. His white shirt was open, revealing a toned, tanned torso. Lovino was next to him, with a huge blush on his face, while Feliciano clung to a large, muscled blonde who Francis assumed was the Ludwig he has heard so much about. He too was blushing a little, while Feliciano babbled on about nothing.
"I'm sorry we're late," Ludwig apologised in a deep voice. "We were half way here when Feli realised he had forgotten his things."
"Don't call my brother by a nickname, bastard!" Lovino snapped at him. Ludwig stayed quiet, knowing better than to argue with his boyfriend's older brother.
"Is Gil not here yet?" Antonio asked, looking around for said albino.
"No," Arthur groaned. "Roderich must be driving."
Half an hour later, once all the food for the picnic had been unpacked, and Feliciano had needed Ludwig to save him from a hermit crab, Gilbert appeared, with a bespectacled man in a blue shirt, and a brunette woman with a green bikini top, and a short skirt covering her bottom half.
"Specs was driving," Gilbert announced loudly, confirming Arthurs suspicions. "He got us lost!" Arthur shook his head.
"How do you get lost for forty minutes when you live five minutes away?" He demanded.
"I apologise," Roderich said sincerely. "I brought cakes, so I hope that makes up for it."
A short while later, almost everyone was in the sea, including Arthur, Roderich and Lovino, who had been abducted by Gilbert and Antonio, and then unceremoniously dumped in the water. Only Francis and Gilbert's brunette friend, Elizaveta, were left dry for now.
"So, how long have you stayed with Arthur?" She asked him. Elizaveta was strangely interested in his non-relationship with Arthur.
"Five weeks," Francis recalled. Had it really been that long already? Elizaveta nodded.
"And you two aren't romantically involved?" She noted his hesitation, and made a sort of squealing noise. "Tell me the details!"
"Well, there aren't any…" he sighed.
"Is he still hung up on Alfie?" He nodded, and she folded her arms like a sulking child. "It could take a while then… Damnit, you two would look cute together…" She went quiet for a while.
"I'm leaving next week…" Francis lamented. Elizaveta's emerald eyes widened with horror.
"What? Why?" She shrieked.
"I have to return to France," he shrugged, keeping up the pretence that he was human. She shook her head.
"Well, mister, you are going to have Arthur before this week is up!" She stood up and dragged him to his feet. "We have no time to waste, so get up, get in that water, and have all the fun with your man as possible." She ran into the water, leaping on Roderich from behind so they both fell in.
Arthur was further from the shore, floating peacefully on his back, away from the water fight taking place with the others.
Suddenly, something grabbed his ankle, and he was pulled under the water. The harsh sea salt stung his bulging eyes as he looked around to see his assailant.
Francis?
A long fingered hand curled round the back of the Englishman's head, and pulled it closer to meet Francis' lips in a kiss.
Arthur awoke the next day, still a little shocked at what had happened. Of course Francis had liked him, but he hadn't expected that… Although, it had felt amazing… He reminded himself that Francis was a robot, damnit, and pulled on his dressing-gown before going downstairs. He wasn't here. How odd; Francis was always up first. He didn't have work today, either… Arthur went back up the stairs, and knocked on Francis' door. No answer.
"Francis?" He called. Still no answer. Beginning to panic, he opened the door. Francis was still in bed, asleep. Arthur gingerly approached him, and shook him lightly. "Francis?" There was still no response. Desperately trying to recall the manual, Arthur remembered one vital piece of information. He placed his ear to Francis' bare chest.
He couldn't hear the processor running.