Work Text:
01
Arthur woke up that morning with the feeling he would deeply regret his last night's decision. He did not know which desire had talked through him when Francis asked if he would like to stay at his place, so they could start with all their work as soon as possible. Arthur saw that it was a pragmatic idea, and he accepted the proposition.
Of course, he knew which kind of date was today. Francis always remembered and informed him of the minor opportunity, as he could forget the ties between each other.
He took a shower, tried to brush his hair but it was a failed attempt, and put on his regular clothes. The guy in the mirror looked more confident than him and his real feelings and considered that was perfect. He only needed to pretend.
He looked at his luggage. He had bought a stupid gift in London, he had seen it at the store and the excited face of Francis came to his mind, always falling in love with gems and unnecessary treasures. Arthur took the little box, where the ring slept waiting for his owner, then, kept it inside his pocket.
Arthur went to the kitchen, thinking about a good cup of tea and a modest breakfast before starting his busy day. Francis used to have employees working in his house ages ago, but not anymore. He grew attached to his privacy, even when sometimes he could be pretty uncarefully in public. Francis’ house was a sanctuary, with difficult access to the rest of the world.
“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked as a type of greeting, deciding not to use his courtesy so early, especially towards his host.
Francis was close to the stove, wearing an apron on top of his pajamas. There were some pans, providing delicious smells, and the tea was ready.
“It’s my home,” Francis replied. Arthur rolled his eyes. “But answering your real question, it would be a shame if I cannot give the attention that my guest deserves, even if my guest is you”.
“Usually, your only guest is me and that does not stop you to sleep until noon” Arthur said, sitting towards the table. Francis gave him his tea and a plate with his favorite breakfast. Probably, he would take that secret to his tomb, but anything Francis cooked was his favorite, from sophisticated recipes to a piece of simple toast bread. Francis did something special with his hands every time like if that was the magic he was capable of mastering.
“Well, today is special after all,” Francis said, smiling too kindly and shiny to be even possible so early that morning. As usual, Arthur replied, frowning his eyebrows, and dedicated his attention thinking how to give him the stupid trinket in his pocket. He ate in silence, while Francis sat close to him, with a cup of coffee and a healthy meal and a delicate ring in one of his hands.
Arthur observed the ring trying to hide his attention. It was gold, and it looked expensive as if it was purchased in one of the finest jewelry stores in Paris. His present was pale in comparison. As always, Francis could not mind his own business and was looking at him as reading his thoughts.
“Do you remember?” Francis asked him, showing him the ring closer.
“What am I expected to remember?”
“This.” The ring, that stupid ring he had decided to wear today, from all the possibles dates.
“I cannot have my mind focused on such superficialities,” Arthur said, with a disdain grin. “Does it have a special meaning of any kind?”
“It was given to me by a pretty appreciated person, and very handsome, although that is subjective.”
“I doubt somebody with their head in the right place would think that way about you.”
“Well, you would be surprised.”
The problem was Arthur did not want to be surprised by that special fellow. He knew Francis, sometimes very painfully, comprehending he tended to be fond of many people, usually ending those relationships with a dead end and a broken heart.
“Well, I prefer it if you focus on our work. I do not want to waste my time.”
“Of course not, you do not”.
They started with their work later. In normal circumstances, Arthur preferred to stay alone in a room and only communicated with the others using the phone, but Francis opposed that idea immediately. He sat along with him, deciding to be together even when that was not necessary to complete their paperwork.
Arthur should be used to his closeness. Francis always wanted physical contact, from holding hands to a kiss in the cheek, from unexpected hugs to a caress in the hair, directed to anyone in his range of fondness, even those who truly did not deserve his attention, as the stoic Ludwig or his stupid brothers. Arthur hated when Francis’ affection was towards him in public as if he did not mind his rivalry shared space with these acts, but furthermore, he did not like it when he directed his love to humans who would disappear in a blink, thanks to their mortality. That kind of love could mean the death of him if he was not more careful.
Of course, Arthur would not talk about it. It was not his place to decide.
Arthur paused his work to look at the ring in Francis’ hand. He doubted a nation would give him a gift like that, it gave place to cause misinterpretation. Definitely, not James. He was never the kind of man who gave delicate presents. He could say the same about Ludwig. But, what about Antonio or Feliciano? Monique was a possible candidate too.
“If you want to know, why do you not ask like a normal person?” Francis asked, keeping his eyes from his computer.
“Despite your egocentrism, I do not want to know anything about you.” Arthur went to look again at his papers, hating his burning face.
“And you are not a normal person, évidemment.”
“You are one to talk.”
Francis looked at him briefly and smiled again. Arthur, for a moment, believed his heart had stopped. He almost forgot how to breathe when Francis closed his laptop and looked directly into his eyes as if he held all the important knowledge in the universe.
“I have been wearing this ring all week,” Francis explained. “I told the same story to anyone who asked.”
“You must be boring them.”
“I talked about a man I met when I was a boy, who broke my heart uncountable times, took their million pieces, and never gave them back to me.”
“You love suffering, don’t you?” Arthur said, deciding to hold Francis' hand. He could not look to his face, fearing to see what emotion was there. “You are always so dramatic. You have not met any human for that long.” Arthur took the ring from him. It looked familiar, painfully familiar.
“I’m not talking about a human.”
“Not, évidemment …” Arthur said. He left the ring on the table, starting to remember. “So, that person, how long ago did he give you the ring?”
“Long enough for him to forget.”
“I never forget about such a thing. I was just focused on important matters.”
Arthur decided it was now or never. He showed Francis the box that contained the new present. He opened it, horribly nervous, and let him look at it. The new ring was similar to the old one, maybe it had been purchased in the same store in London.
“It’s beautiful,” Francis said.
“You say that about anything,” Arthur said.
“Not without reasons.”
“It’s for you,” Arthur said as if it was not evident enough. “But don’t think highly of yourself, I could have done the same with anyone.”
“Sure, Arthur. Especially Ludwig, right?”
“Maybe not him.”
“Or Alfred.”
“Definitely, him neither.”
“What about Antonio or Matthew?”
“What about if you stop trying to prove an inexistent point?”
Arthur took the ring, and without second thoughts, he put the ring on Francis’ finger. It was perfect. Not only the present, but he and his smiles and his happiness, and Arthur's feelings, growing more and more inside of him until it was impossible to hide between the same play as always. For once, he smiled as if he was again the king of the world, and had what only matter close to him.
“It’s time to get back to work.” Arthur decided.
“Oh, no, mon coeur, that’s not a possibility,” Francis said, hugging him as expected. Arthur did not try to go away or pretend he did not like it. He did not have the will for lying to himself this time.
“We have a lot of work to do.”
“We can do it tomorrow, and you know it.”
Francis gave him the first kiss of the morning, and Arthur decided that ended the argument. Contrary to his supposition, he did not regret anything about the day.