Chapter Twelve: A Difficult Decision

A/N: Yes…I realize it's kind of late to be giving a more in-depth look at Arthur's neighbourhood…it was overdue though. I was so busy grappling with the story that details over the scenery were forgotten or omitted. Sorry about that.

A/N2: This is the second last chapter guys! You must all be getting excited, I know I am!

Arthur huddled under his grey woolen jacket as he shuffled down the street lined with shops. Large balls of fluffy snow were falling from the sky coating his scruffy blonde hair and shoulders. His breath, visible smoke against the chilly air, steamed past his brownish-red scarf.

By now it was dark out, no earlier than eleven thirty at night. With the exception of the light bouncing off the moon and the thousands of stars scattered in space, the sky was pitch black.

He turned down a brick passageway that burrowed through a building. The roof of the tunnel was a stone arch with one torch inside that was not yet lit. Coming out of the tunnel he crossed a backstreet and headed into a small courtyard.

Passing the dead garden, no longer blooming with summer flowers, he travelled up three steps bound by opposing iron railings. He opened the wooden door and kicked the snow off his buckled shoes, trudged inside.

Carrying himself down the wooden corridor he turned ninety degree to his left at the end of the hall and climbed up the stiff wooden staircase. After making his way up he went down another hall and turned right, passing several wooden doors before reaching his own on the right side at the very end.

Slowly cracking the door open he noticed the room was empty. Blinking he looked around before noticing a white box on the bed. He walked up to the box and read the words inscribed, "À Francis".

"Arthur?" A voice called out to him from the bathroom/dressing room.

"Yes," Arthur huffed out, "It's me."

A joyful Francis leaped out of the room. He was dressed in a beautiful long coat made of thick linen.

Twirling around Francis spoke cheerfully, "Do you like it? The Duc D'Aumont brought it for me!"

Arthur was silently stunned by the outfit. Francis was fitted nicely into a lavishly trimmed bluish-green coat with golden yellow zigzag patterns and tiny flowers stitched all over. Underneath was a gold and white long vest, and beneath that a white silk shirt, only recognizable by the puffy ruffle poking out near his neck. His legs were covered by dark grey stockings below equally grey short trousers. The ponytail Francis had put his hair into allowed Arthur to see his sharp facial features.

"Well?" Francis grinned, eagerly awaiting Arthur's response.

"Oh, yes," Arthur replied sounded less than interested, "It's nice."

Francis frowned expecting more, "You don't like it…"

"No," Arthur sat down on the bed, "That's not it. It looks fine…I'm just in a bit of a mood right now."

The Frenchman shrugged, "I'll wait a minute. Knowing you you'll have changed by then."

The Brit narrowed his eyes and snapped, "Don't be a smartass."

Francis chuckled, "See, there you go."

Walking over to the box resting beside Arthur, Francis opened it, "You know, he brought something for you too…at my request, of course."

The Londoner looked up, "For me?"

"But of course!" The Parisian beamed, "See?"

Arthur watched Francis pull out a well-made three piece suit. It was a deep, strong red with gold trim stretching down to his knees. A white silk shirt, similar to the one Francis had was stashed in the box accompanied by a yellow silk vest with a similar stripped trim pattern as the coat.

"You'll have to buy your own stockings and shoes though," Francis looked rather sorry he couldn't have gotten a more complete outfit.

"Is that…" Arthur stumbled over his words, "really for me?"

"Well unless you want me to have it," The Parisian joked.

"Can I try it on," Arthur looked his partner in the eye, "to see if it fits?"

"On one condition." The other smirked.

Arthur could feel the knots in his stomach tightening. When he had last left the Frenchman he was trying to start a sexual episode with Arthur. Hidden a silent gulp he stared into the other's eyes, "And that would be?"

"You tell me what's wrong with you."

The Brit gave up an exasperated sigh, "Why do you always think there's something wrong with me?"

"Maybe because," Francis' lips curled in a negative direction, "you've been stressed ever since I came to live with you."

"I've been stressed my whole life," Arthur growled, "most of it anyway. It's got nothing to do with you."

The Parisian continued to frown until an idea sparked a happy smirk. He wrapped his hand around Arthur's head and drew it into his torso. He proceeded to tilt the head up kissing the forehead, then cheek, then mouth.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't forget." Arthur mumbled when Francis withdrew himself slightly from the Brit's lips.

"This is love and I am French," Francis winked, "Of course I never forget."

The Frenchmen bent back in for another kiss, this time sliding his tongue inside.

The temperature of the room quickly rose as the two roughly kiss at each other, grabbing onto and stroking various parts of the upper body. The smooching was interrupted when Francis pushed Arthur harshly back on the bed.

"N-ugh…what was that for?" Arthur chocked out. Instead of getting an answer he felt the weight of his partner on him and was swept away in another tender kiss when he looked up for an explanation.

While keeping their lips sealed Francis moved his hand down to Arthur's private area and rubbed him methodically through the fabric. He grinned, still locked in a kiss, feeling his lover stiffen up.

Breaking to take a breath, a sly smile spread across the Frenchman's face, "Are you going to let me have you again?"

The question left Arthur blushing deeply, "Maybe I'll take you this time."

Francis giggled making Arthur hot in face, "You wouldn't know where to start, would you?"

The Brit looked away, his eyes narrowed, "I'm sure I'll figure it…wait a minute! W-why even do this anyway?"

The Parisian stopped laughing and frowned, "What is that supposed to mean? You love me, do you not?"

Arthur sat up slightly and sniped, "I don't recall saying that."

"You certainly seemed to love what I did a few nights ago."

Arthur looked away as his body melted at the recollection of their physical relation two nights ago. His heart pumped as blood rushed through his veins, making him feel anxious to be touched.

Francis was just as eager. Ever since that night he had anticipated making love to his partner again. He finally had Arthur in his clutches and made certain to himself he would not let go…not tonight.

Reconvening his heavy petting between Arthur's legs he slunk into another kiss. The muffled groans and twitches the Englishman were making under him made him push for more. Straddling the lad he moved both his hands to the brown vest removing it and went on to the kahki coloured shirt the Brit was wearing beneath and undid each button slowly. During the process he kept his eyes locked with Arthur's.

Calmly and gently pulling the shirt and vest back Francis kissed the centre of the Londoner's chest. His reward was a stifled but pleasuring hum. He made a line of kisses down to the bellybutton as the Brit laid back onto the mattress. He licked the heated skin all the way back up to the nape of the neck before taking a harden nipple into his mouth, sucking it gentle.

"Ah!" Arthur bolted up, "Don't do that!"

Francis blinked, "Why not?"

"B-because," Arthur blushed wildly, "It's awkward."

"Would you rather I go somewhere else?"

"Yes."

"Well ok," Francis shrugged, "But remember, you wanted it."

Without giving Arthur a second to contemplate where he intended to go, he unfastened the belt to the Brit's trousers and yanked them off. Swiftly grabbing onto the hardening cock he worked on it with his hand, listening to the sighs and moans of his paramour. Excited by the growing size he swirled his tongue around the tip before licking the length. He prolonged his actions, teasing the throbbing cock with his tongue and kissing it until Arthur could take no more.

"Ah...shit." Arthur closed his eyes forcefully, arching his back as Francis swallowed his dick. Every tug, lick and gargle marched him closer to finishing. He kept his eyes firmly shut enjoying every individual touch with his heightened senses.

With a feeling of fullness rising from his abdomen he gave warning, "I'm…I'm…coming."

The Frenchman released his hold before the Londoner could cum, causing a disappointed whimper.

"Not yet," The Parisian winked. He climbed off Arthur and stood before the side of the bed. He leaned over and grabbed Arthur's side, flipping him over.

"Ack!" The Brit pushed his hands in front of him to stop his face from colliding with the bed sheets. Before he could recover he was pulled back by the hips so that his legs were standing on the floor, but his torso was bent over on the bed, "What is this?"

"A change in position," Arthur couldn't see Francis' face but he could tell the man was grinning, "I can go straightforward and not on an angle like last time. It will feel even better."

Arthur looked back to witness the Parisian unbuttoning the gold and silver vest he was wearing and pulling down his trousers to reveal his erection. This was the second time Arthur was seeing it and the size still amazed him.

Placing one hand on the Brit's back, Francis circled his index finger with the other around Arthur's entrance a few times before he pushed inside.

Arthur winced feeling slightly uncomfortable as the digit was thrust in and out of him. More pressure came as the second finger pushed inside, adding some pain to the insertions. The two fingers moved together pushing back and forth, occasionally stopping to scissor and scoop.

"Are you ok with two?" Francis asked, trying to hide his growing need to be inside the other.

"I-I guess," Arthur looked back, still feeling the blended feeling of toxic pleasure and biting pain crawling down his legs.

Francis made no follow ups nor addressed any insecurities. With his own cock pulsing for action he lined it up with the stretched hole and injected himself.

"Ah!" Arthur grabbed the bed sheets, holding so tight his knuckles turned white. He took a few deep breaths adjusting to the position. He gasped in when Francis pushed in even farther, hardly believing the man still had more to go in. The Brit shuddered when Francis pulled out slowly and then shoved himself back inside. As the procession picked up speed he choked out short, but audible, moans.

Sliding his hand from Arthur's back to his hip and attaching another hand on the other side, Francis picked up the pace again, pushing harder each time. He grunted lowly every time their flesh slapped together as he tunneled deep inside his lover.

"Fuck," Arthur hissed still clutching at the bed sheets. This time around the pain had been short-lived and he was riding fully on desire and pleasure. The way Francis filled him put him in an entranced state of ecstasy as nothing else in the moment mattered more than being fucked uncontrollably.

The Parisian pulled out his ponytail afore bending over to mark the Brit's back. His damp hair fell over his face, tickling the Londoner when he leant down to kiss, lick and bite him. He drew up his left arm from Arthur's hip and grasped it around the man's vibrating cock. Arthur gave a sigh of relief that his manhood was finally being attended to once again. While continuing to rock their bodies together, Francis skillfully massaged Arthur's dick in his hand, teasing it by pumping slowly before speeding up, only to slow the pace again.

"Oh God," Arthur cried out; the combination of the burning inflation in his cock and the deep thrusts inside him were sending millions of passionate shocks throughout his figure.

Francis kissed Arthur's shoulder blade and whispered seductively into his ear, "Do you like it?"

"Mmmm," The Brit could barely form words, but the noise suggested he had completely submitted himself to Francis' will.

The Frenchman whispered to him again, "Do you want more?"

The same mumbled noise tumbled out, begging for further pleasure.

Once again, Francis took his focus off Arthur's cock and placed his left hand back on the man's hip. His thrusts, which had softened and slowed while he tended to Arthur's other need, could now return to a quicker stride, hammering the Brit's insides.

With the strength of each thrust making Arthur dazed with lust he opened his eyes only to be stonewalled by white sparks blocking his view. He tried to shake his head, but they would not cease their control on his vision. Without warning he felt Francis' cock slightly rub against his prostate. The sensation made him weak in the knees. Desperate to have that intense high again he called out for more, "Yes! Right there…Oh God, that's it! Fuck me, please!"

The Parisian didn't hesitate as he continued pounding into Arthur's erotic nerves, sweat dripping down his face.

Arthur whimpered, hollered and gasped for air as the same area inside him was hit again and again, making him lose the ability of coherent thought. His mind was numbed further when his cock was grabbed for a third time and pumped furiously, "YESYESYESYESYES!"

The high of being jerked off and fucked became overbearing, causing Arthur to release himself. He buckled and convulsed as Francis continued to shove himself inside before he filled Arthur with his own milky white liquid.

Francis sighed, and pulled out, flopping on the bed to join Arthur who was panting non-stop. He moved in and kissed the Brit's forehead. When he pulled away he noticed tears in Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur? I'm sorry, was that too much for you?"

"No," The Briton sniffled.

"Then what?"

Arthur's lips trembled for a moment as tears continued to cloud his eyes. He lunged at Francis catching him off guard. Holding the Parisian tightly he cried, "I don't want you to go! I want you to stay with me! I love you too much!"

Francis blinked in confusion. He was happy to know Arthur shared his feelings, but what the Brit said was troubling. Pulling the scruffy blonde off him he asked, "What do you mean?"

Arthur's eyes were turning red and puffy as he breathed deeply trying not to break down and weep, "Gonson found out…about us."

Francis sighed harshly, "It feels like everyone knows. Doesn't this country have any respect for privacy?"

"He wants me to send you away," Arthur squeaked out, "…forever."

The Frenchman placed a hand on the Londoner's face, wiping away a tear as it fell down his face, "I said I would never leave you, remember?"

"He said…if you didn't go…he'd put you in the pillars." Arthur added, choking on his emotions, "I don't want that, I don't. I don't want them to hurt you."

Francis frowned, his heart torn. He understood Arthur's concern as yesterday a man had been placed in the stocks for perjury and was nearly bashed to death by the heavy objects, hard fruits and stones, being thrown at his head.

Thinking to himself quietly he came to a resolve, "The Sir Gonson, is a gentleman, non?"

"Well in the political sense," The Brit was gaining control over his emotions, "Why?"

"Parce que" The robust Frenchman shone with enthusiasm, "I will challenge him to a gentleman's duel."

Arthur's eyes nearly popped out of his head, "You'll what? Do you even know HOW to use a pistol?"

"Non," the other shrugged, "but I have a good eye for detail so I won't miss."

His emotions turning from sadness to anger the Briton narrowed his eyes, "You're a damn fool. You'll only get yourself killed."

"Well," Francis started, "I can leave now and be spiritually dead or I can stay and take my chances on a duel."

Arthur dropped his eyes to the bed sheets where the absorbed cum starting to dry, he knew what Francis was saying was true. He considered offering to take the other's place but he had no more experience with a firearm than any other poor man from a metropolitan city.

The Parisian didn't wait for a response. He got up and made his way to the only other room in the flat. There he grabbed a small beige cloth to wipe himself up with it before taking off the rest of his lavish garments and replacing them with casual sleepwear. Coming back into the room he dropped another set of clothes on the bed for Arthur to put on.

"I'll issue the challenge tomorrow." He said sitting down at the desk, giving his companion some space. Taking out an ink feather he dipped the tip in black liquid and scribbled a message onto a piece of parchment, "Monsieur Duc D'Aumont can send the letter, I'm sure he will understand."

Throwing the white shirt over his head, Arthur looked over to Francis and watched him write the letter. He said a silent prayer that, despite their terrible sin, they would have God's favour.

Historical Notes #1: Committing sodomy was a SEVERE offense in 18th century England, however, because it was hard to prove that penetration and ejacuation had happened the offense was lightened to "assault with sodomitical intent" which was not a capital offense. Most of the time "assault with sodomitical intent" meant fines and a day in the pillar as well as jail time. Most of the sodomy cases I'm familiar with are ones where a sodomitical offender tries to attract someone who's not a sodomite and the person testifies against them. Arthur and Francis are an interesting case...but I can't really explain what will/can/would happen to them until the very end...

Historical Notes #2: The concept of duels goes all the way back to the 11th century. During the 17th and 18th century duels were usually fought with swords or rapiers. Dueling was only meant for the upper class and each participant had what was called a 'second' whom, prior to the 1600's also had to duel. They were common amongst military officers. It wasn't until the late 18th century that they switched from blades to pistols ( = P Which means once again I've distorted history a little bit...sorry). Duels were not about killing your opponent but rather showing that you had the guts to put your life on the line for your honour - which, in the end, restored your honour. It is this strong sense of honour and the creation of civil rules within the duel that ties duels to mannerism and etiquette in the Early Modern period. However, in some places the practice of duelling was made illegal by local governments so the participants often did it away from prying eyes.

Interesting Fun Fact:

While looking up punishments for sodomites I found an interesting case about an English sea captain named Edward Rigby who tried for sodomy in 1698 but acquitted. A member of the (wait for it...wait for it...) Society for Reformation of Manners named Thomas Bray was not satisfied with the result so he hired a young man, William Minton, 19, to lure out Rigby. In due time Rigby was caught again and put on trial. During the trial Minton claimed in his story that Rigby had said Louis XIV, the Sun King of France, was a sodomite (Remember Chapter Five?). However, there is no historical record about Louis being a sodomite, though this younger brother, Philippe, Duc d'Orleans was notorious for being homosexual.

I also found that sometimes a man's...ahem...private place was sometimes refered to as their "Privy Member". Haha!