Chapter Text
"Francis~" Arthur singsonged, playing with his lover's hair.
"Arthur~" Francis replied in the same tune, slightly muffled by the pillows that lay around him.
"Are you going to get up?"
"Mm. Non."
The Brit pouted, his fingers dancing along Francis's spine. The Frenchman shivered lightly, hi breathing becoming rthymic and slow.
"Wait, don't go to sleep yet!" Arthur fretted, slapping Francis's back. Francis winced,turning his head in Arthur's direction.
"If this is about me getting up to press play for your movie, my answer is no."
"No, this is about me wanting a kiss from you, and your answer should be yes."
Francis rolled his eyes, then sat up in the least possible effort to meet Arthur's lips. He kissed the bipolar Brit softly before plopping back down in his nest of blankets and pillows.
"Francis!" Arthur complained, tossing a small pillow at him.
"Somehow, i highly doubt wanting a kiss was hardly your aim at all."
"You doubt me, frog?" Arthur huffed in faux offense. "Tsk. How rude~"
"Non, just calling you out, cher L'Anglais."
"Are we really bickering about what i may or may not need you to do?"
Francis snorted, "You hardly NEED me to get up and press play for a movie that holds no interest for me."
"Don't snort, Francis. It's very unbecoming of you."
"You know I don't like action movies."
"And you know I don't like romance movies, but that fact did not stop you at all last night."
Francis groaned, flicking his hair away from his neck.
"Your movies are all the same; the bad guys are actually good guys, cue 45 minutes of mindlessly blowing shit up, and if you're lucky, voila! A sex scene appears! Then the last five minutes are just acknowledging the destruction and leaving an open ending to another sequel that will more or less follow the same stupid plot."
"For someone who hates action movies, you seem relatively well versed in this genre. Your movies are completely unrealistic versions of a perfect romance. The guy gets the girl, Never trust Amy because she'll just stab you in the back, and we see the same cafe shop 600 where they "coincidentally" end up meeting every other scene, there's all this drama and miscommunication and they end up being like "oh fuck i saw her with Travis i'm going to naturally assume they've been fucking around behind my back for months"-"
Francis watched in amusement as Arthur continued in overly dramatic tones.
"Who the fuck is Travis?" Francis interrupted, laughing at Arthur's logic. The Brit finished enthused.
"--But then, by the tears of Jesus, they end up finding each other and getting married."
"For someone who hates romance movies, you seem relatively well versed in this genre." Francis smirked, doing a shitty impression of Arthur's Cockney.
"You're quite the cynic as well, Francis. Many applause to you."
"Are you finally done ranting now? May I please do that amazing thing where I close my eyes and dream of the days where we didn't argue?"
"No, and those days never existed." Arthur said smoothly, while Francis groaned.
"You know what, let's go back to kissing, least you were quiet then."
"Oh please. You love me."
"Mm, that I do." Francis mumbled sleepily.
"Now, anyways, back to the matter at hand--" Arthur slapped his lover's butt in an effort to keep him conscious.
Francis huffed in irritation, burrowing deeper into the pillows.
"I'm filing for divorce if you don't let me sleep, Arthur."
"How long have we been married? Oh yes, like 5 years now."
Francis smiled fondly, "I'll never forget the look on your face when I proposed to you..." He peeked at Arthur, adoration twinkling in his eyes. "Dieu, we were kids! 18 years old!" Francis scoffed, "And you wanted to get married in Vegas."
"What's wrong with Vegas?" Arthur sniffed.
"Hm, let's start with...everything."
"Please. You just have no appreciation for--"
"--tackiness covered in sequins and neon lights? Definitely not."
Arthur sighed, reaching over for his glass of gin.
"Don't drink too much of that," Francis warned the Englishman, "You know how terrible your hangovers are."
"Then I shall drink to a special occasion." Arthur raised his glass.
"Oh, what the hell is this now?!" Exasperation was evident in the Frenchman's tone.
"I dedicate this occasion to--"
"Don't finish that sentance--"
"Francis--"
"oh my gOD--"
"pressing play for the movie!" Arthur cheered, drinking heavily from his glass.
Francis sat up, knocking the wineglass out of Arthur's hands.
"Hey--" Arthur was cut off by a certain Frenchman in a very effective way.
"Mm..." Arthur moaned, knotting his fingers in Francis's silky, platinum blonde hair. The two lover's tongues danced, a fierce battle of undying passion mixed with smoldering lust. Francis was relentless, heavy tongue and no mercy.
Arthur cheated by biting Francis's lip, taking advantage of the moment of brief disconnection to trail kissed from Francis's jawline, down his neck, along the grooves of his collarbone--
"You never took losing easily, did you?" Francis chuckled, heavy french toying with his endearing English. His hands massaged Arthur's full, feminine hips softly. "You cheated.~"
"I prefer 'finding an opportunity to play things in my favor'. Most people don't take that chance. I do."
"Also known as cheating," Francis murmured against his lover's skin, lightly kissing the Brit's wrists.
"Tsk, I thought you were an optimist."
"Non, more so a dreamer."
"Then imagine this!~ A world where movies could press play all by themselves, or, better yet, a loving husband who does that same exact function--"
"Oh, alright, I'll do it!" Francis sauntered off the canopy bed, shaking his head in both disbelief and amusement. He pressed the play button with more force than necessary, nodding in satisfaction at the loud click! the DVD player sputtered out as the advertisements played onscreen.
"Was it truly necessary to take your frustration out on a defenseless DVD player?" Arthur inquired, snuggling into Francis's embrace.
"Yes, yes it was..." Francis smiled as he fell asleep to Arthur's musical laughter, faintly hearing the Briton say,
"Je T'aime, Francis. Bon nuit..."