If Our Two Loves Be One...
Alfred might have had something going about his drinking. This was his first glass and for some reason Arthur did not feel completely sober. On the other hand, he knew he had a better tolerance than this so it had to be a mistake.
"Have you seen Kiku, Tino?"
"I think I saw him go that way with Heracles and Elizaveta," Tino responded, gesturing in that direction. Arthur kept a grip on Alfred's hand, thanked Tino, and moved in that direction.
If this little game of Kiku and yours can be finished tonight Alfred... thank God.
Arthur really felt too tired for this right now. Still, Alfred was trying to do the right thing finally and so Arthur would help him with that. He heard laughter down the hall. Arthur knew immediately who it was. It was Francis. He would recognize that laughter anywhere.
Who was he with?
Arthur let go of Alfred's hand and rushed over to the room, walking in hopefully as if he was just passing by. Maybe? "Have you seen–" He began, cutting off when he noticed Francis was the only one in the room. Then again, why did Arthur even care whether Francis was alone or not? "Oh. Hello, Francis."
"Arthur."
Arthur figured that he should leave (the both of them standing there just being awkward). "You don't appear to be hiccuping anymore," he commented.
"I have Maddox to thank for that," Francis responded with a wry smile.
"Oh?"
"Did you need something?" Francis changed the subject. Or returned to the subject – Arthur did change it from what he had been originally here for. He was simply asking about Kiku. That was all.
Arthur nodded. "I... have you seen Kiku lately?"
"Not that I recall, not since the ceremony."
"Ah." Arthur leaned back, accidentally closing the door behind him. "Well then. I'll leave you to laughing on your..." Arthur paused, staring at the ground around Francis' feet. "What are those?"
Francis looked down at what Arthur could only think were little red plastic ants. "The reason for my laughter, mon cher."
Arthur opened his mouth, raising his hand up and pointing straight at him. "What did I say about that? What the hell did I tell you about doing that, Francis?"
Francis rose an eyebrow. "You mean that part after I got out of Vash's jail cell?"
"Precisely," he growled. Francis rolled his eyes.
"You did not want to hear any French from my French mouth, or the like... if I am recalling what you are referring to correctly?"
"That I didn't want you calling me any of those stupid French pet names!" Arthur corrected angrily. "Damn you! This should not be so... so weird!" Arthur had really thought him beyond this. That he was older and more mature. That he had accepted that it just had not worked out. He had been the one to leave, after all. It had been his own decision. And he could be civil with Francis, he really could. He had done so earlier! It was just... the longer he spent with him, the more difficult it became.
Maybe he had not accepted it all as much as he thought he had.
"Why did you kiss me last month?" Francis asked.
"Bloody hell," Arthur sighed. "Because I was sick. There. Goodbye, Francis." Arthur turned around and tried to open the door. It would not open. Arthur searched for the key that he was certain had to be hidden around the door somewhere, but could not find it.
"...what are you doing?" Francis finally asked. Arthur groaned, hitting his head against the door.
"The blasted thing is locked."
"Locked?" Francis sounded incredulous. Arthur backed away from the door and gestured for Francis to take a shot at it. Francis, still not buying it, went over to try and open the door, then looked about for the key much as Arthur had just done. "I suppose it could have been locked, the door was open when I came to the room."
Arthur banged the door with his fist a couple times, causing Francis to jump away from the door at the sudden noise, or the sudden motion of a fist near his head. "Alfred?" he called out. The boy had just been with him, had he not? Or had he seen Kiku and had wandered off after him?
He did not know. He did not think he even cared. Looking over at Francis, Arthur tried to keep the helplessness from his face. To his comfort, at least Francis did not look very pleased with the situation either.
"Someone is likely to find us," Francis said, clearing his throat. "At the very least by the time Vash makes his rounds to make sure there is no one passed out in the vicinity."
"True," Arthur nodded. Yes, they did not have to worry about being here all night. What Arthur was worried about however was being here right now.
One minute later found them sitting with five feet between them, having exhausted all conversation about the weather that they could not really see from this room.
"You never told me why you left."
"Left what?" Arthur asked, feeling a headache coming on and wondering at what point had he put down his drink so that he did not have it here with him when he really needed it. Trapped. With Francis. On a wedding day. Arthur felt as if someone above was laughing at him.
"Never mind." Francis shook his head, rubbing his hands together in front of him. Arthur caught the motion with the corner of his eye, then went back to staring at the door. Any moment now they would hear someone walking out there, talking out there, and they could get out. They would get out...
Francis shivered. Arthur supposed it was late and the air conditioning put on for the main room of the building certainly made the less crowded rooms a bit chilly. With a sigh, he removed his coat and threw it at Francis' head.
"Quoi?"
"Just stop fidgeting."
"Being nice now?"
"I'm being civil and stop trying to make me snap at you!" Arthur hissed. Francis hugged the coat to himself, his arms wrapped up within it.
"Merci."
"Christ," Arthur whispered, trying to pretend he was not hearing the French the other man was uttering. It reminded him too much of how he went from disliking the sounds, to being curious about the sounds to... to... Loving that God forsaken language. Then hating it all over again.
Arthur went back to staring at the door.
"'My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears and true plain hearts do in the faces rest'."
'Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west?'
Francis stiffened and stared over at him. Arthur shut his mouth and tried not to speak again. Francis was right, right enough to ask the question. Why the hell had he kissed him on that day? Why? Why had, when Francis showed back up in Hearth, all of Arthur's previous reservations and the emotions he had gotten over so long before suddenly showed up again?
"'Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; if our two loves be one, or thou and I... Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die'."
"I... I suppose today was as difficult for you as it was for me," Francis finally said.
"It was a nightmare," Arthur responded. "It shouldn't have been, but it was. We didn't even have a wedding!"
"No, we didn't... not like this," Francis nodded, resting his face against his knees which were drawn up to his chest. "Ever remarry?"
"No." It was not hard to say, nor did it mean anything. For all Arthur was concerned, running off and marrying Francis had been stupid. Just because he had loved him did not mean they worked well together or should have married. He learned that too late, really.
His answer seemed to surprise Francis though. "Never? I would have thou–"
"It's not like I haven't had other relationships," Arthur cut in. "I just didn't marry any of them. You?"
Francis hesitated. "There was... a woman that I–"
Arthur did not hear the rest. His brain must have blanked out to save him from it, he did not know. A woman. Of course. Arthur almost laughed, but instead he rested his head in his hands, fingers pushing his bangs back.
"Arthur...?" Francis placed a hand on his shoulder. Arthur brought his head back up, trying to calm himself. Francis face was right there and like before, Arthur found himself leaning forward to kiss him.
What is wrong with me?
He was drunk, Arthur realized. Though he had only had one glass, he was drunk. That did not make any sense. Francis backed away though, much to Arthur's relief.
"No Arthur. We don't work. We just don't."
Arthur hesitated and then turned his face away. He was not as embarrassed as he thought he should be. "I know that," he said harshly.
Francis sighed and Arthur could almost feel his breath on his ear. "We just do not..." Francis reiterated. He was leaning against him. It was Arthur's turn to reject him. He knew it.
He had to. "I know."
Arthur turned his head and let Francis kiss him. So what if we do not work?
Just one kiss...
Notes:
Arthur recited 'The Good-Morrow' by Jone Donne. This poem was spoken by Arthur on the day he and Francis got married.
One word in here is much more important than the others, in regards to their divorce. I will state it explicitly in the sequel... or at least I have plans to.
