|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jan 27, 2012 19:12:06 GMT -5
Francis let the jab pass and slid off the bed, rolling his eyes.
"Fine, fine." He began to untuck his shirt. "I'll change straightaway. Apologies for making your bed damp."
He made his way toward Arthur's closet, peeling his shirt off on the way. Opening it, he paused with a frown. There were only a few spare articles of clothing, all for practical purposes; it was a sight he was not used to.
He sighed. He wished he could give Arthur finer things and that Arthur would accept them. What was life without a little luxury, after all? But it wouldn't do for Francis to betray his thoughts, or Arthur would take it the wrong way or worse: think that Francis was judging him.
Francis hastily seized the first shirt he saw and held it up to his torso, turning around to show Arthur.
"Flatters me, don't you think?" he teased with a wink.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Jan 28, 2012 5:49:46 GMT -5
Arthur just watches him with a bit of a frown, practically feeling the disdain of Francis' thoughts on his choosing of clothing.
However, when Francis turns around with that shirt, he slips into a smirk.
"Absolutely. Considering I only wear that shirt when I'm repairing ship under deck. There's a rip in the arm, in case you didn't notice."
He sighs, and stands up. "Also, you're missing half the wardrobe." He remarks, trying his best not to look or react when he brushes past shirtless Francis. He moves into the Wardrobe, where there's another door, and pushes it open.
Inside, it's full of colourful clothing. Disguises. Glamorous wear. Not a lot, all for a purpose, but generally of a much higher degree than what first appeared.
He mumbles a little to himself, before wandering back into the cabin.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jan 28, 2012 18:18:34 GMT -5
With a soft intake of breath, Francis stared at the secret section of the closet. It seldom happened, but Francis was highly impressed. Like himself, everyone who hoped to accomplish their less honorable aims needed certain disguises. Great minds truly thought alike, despite differences in personality.
He turned toward Arthur, matching the pirate's earlier grin. "Well, well," he drawled, cocking his head to the side. His hair fell across the side of his face. "I see you're still full of surprises."
Chuckling, he rifled through the finer, more plentiful set. Each clothing, each outfit sparked curiosity in Francis, and he found himself wondering what each of them were for, what missions and experiences they had seen. He forgot his initial reason for visiting Arthur's closet and strode back to Arthur, now burning with curiosity.
"Such stories you must have." He studied the pirate's face closely. "They must be as colorful as your clothes."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Jan 28, 2012 20:08:33 GMT -5
Arthur had laid back on his bed, arms folded behind his head. He raises an eyebrow and looks back up at the noble.
"Hm, I suppose. Or maybe I have some just in case I come into a situation that calls for it. I think there's a blue shirt in there that should suit you fine. Either that or the dress, if you feel particularly feminine today." He muses, flicking a speck of dirt off his own.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jan 28, 2012 20:26:22 GMT -5
The way Arthur was laid out on the bed was just too enticing, and for a moment, Francis' mind flashed with possibilities and fantasies. He licked his lips. He couldn't resist the opportunity.
Laughing softly, Francis sank onto the bed. On his hands and knees, he inched slowly over Arthur until he effectively trapped the pirate captain beneath him. With their faces so close together, Francis could feel Arthur's breath warming his face and see the intensity of his bright eyes.
"And do you think," he said in a low voice bordering on a purr, "that I would look fetching in that dress?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Jan 28, 2012 20:37:20 GMT -5
Oh. Well, this was interesting. Certainly caused Arthur to have to think things through. He gazes up at the other for a moment.
A moment later and a hand is around Francis' throat. There's a calm, rather collected, glare from the other.
"Hm, I don't know, but I did not give you permission to attempt to sexually harass me nor attempt to pin me to my own bed in my own cabin." He remarks. "I did tell you to go put some bloody clothes on. You're dripping on me and it's not a nice feeling."
His fingers squeeze for a moment longer, before letting go.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jan 28, 2012 20:57:06 GMT -5
The moment he realized Arthur's hand around his throat made Francis' heart stutter a little. He couldn't help the little hitch in his breath in a second's panic and shock, but when he found that there was no real threat, he stared down at Arthur's hand contemplatively for a moment.
He kept his face impassive, then removed himself from the bed sinuously. Once on his feet, Francis pulled off his trousers and stood in just his underwear.
The look Francis gave the captain was both inviting and taunting before he turned on his heel and made for the closet, his swaying movements as sensual as a dancer's. Then he began to rummage through Arthur's selection, nonchalant and controlled.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Jan 28, 2012 21:13:35 GMT -5
Arthur just sighed, rolling over slightly so he was on his side and facing the wall, and curls up slightly. He closes his eyes. He's still rather tired, and finds himself dozing.
And trying his best to push away the blush his cheeks seemed to have gained.
He was.. was.. probably just ill. Yeah.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jan 28, 2012 21:30:17 GMT -5
Francis found the blue shirt that Arthur recommended to him, but he decided not to use it. It suited his taste, and that was perhaps why he didn't want to wear it - he felt divorced from his everyday life on Arthur's ship.
He settled for one of Arthur's worn, ordinary shirts and found all of Arthur's trousers too short. There was no helping it, then. He would have to do without trousers, at least until his own dried.
Sighing, he returned to the bed, where Arthur had become still. Francis was a little stung by Arthur's reaction - it had been a little jest, really - and was hesitant as he approached. As he leaned over to glimpse Arthur's face, and found the pirate's closed eyes.
Poor thing must be exhausted, thought Francis. Then he realized just how tired he felt too, after all that running about.
He settled on a chair against a corner and leaned back, fidgeting to get comfortable. Then he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Jan 29, 2012 18:03:25 GMT -5
Francis would wake the next morning and find a blanket covering him, one which had previously been on the end of Arthur's bed. The rain seems to have cleared for now, but it sounds a little breezy outside. However, there are no tell-tale signs of the ship moving.
Arthur is casually sitting by the desk, having randomly opened the newspaper, fresh, in front of it. He scans over it for a moment, before sighing, folding it away, and putting it on the desk, where he returns to fiddling. He glances over at Francis for a moment, before looking away. He.. he must have been tired. He'd gotten reports (and quite a few sniggers) at the other's actions while he was out cold, and Arthur admittedly hadn't realised how.. well, determined he was.
The Pirate didn't know what to do. He picks up his tea and takes a sip of it, idly.
|
|
