|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 5, 2011 14:47:02 GMT -5
Francis couldn't be fooled; there was an undercurrent of unhappiness beneath Arthur's false bravado. Masking emotions was, after all, how Francis survived every day.
"I don't belong anywhere, not even with the pirates," said Francis. "But they're the closest so far in my life."
He reveled in the warm weight of Arthur's hand on his back. Francis hoped Arthur would never move it away. Deeply comforted, Francis deemed it safe to lay his head on Arthur's shoulder, if only for a while. It felt good to rest his head.
"You think you don't belong anywhere? There are people who would dispute that. People who count on you and welcome you."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 5, 2011 16:38:40 GMT -5
Arthur snorts. "And who's that? You? You dragged me off the streets one day when I was on death's door. You didn't even know who I was. Trust me, by tomorrow morning you won't want to see me again." He squeezes the other slightly, before pulling away and standing up. He moves forward, and starts tending to the fire.
"You're tired. Go to sleep." He remarks. He picks up a stick and starts poking at the flames with it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 5, 2011 16:59:10 GMT -5
Francis became entirely miserable and considerably colder when Arthur left his side. He shivered slightly, pulling the cloak tighter around himself. Arthur's warmth and scent still lingered on the side he had occupied, and Francis buried himself in it.
He stared at the ground, wondering how on earth he was going to lie down enough to be comfortable. It was such a far, far cry from his soft mattress and goose-down pillows. Still, if Francis could get something out of it...
Smirking deviously, Francis batted his eyelashes up at the pirate. "Only if you tuck me in," he insisted. "After all, you did say you're indebted to me, and I did tuck you in nice and warm in your bed those few months ago. I even held you through the night. It's only fair."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 5, 2011 17:09:16 GMT -5
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "How old are you? Six? And that isn't what I was on about, bloody hell. It's not like I knew who I was when I fell asleep on you."
He folded his arms, frowning. "Also, you're practically nuzzling my cloak. Last time someone had been like that in it they didn't have any clothes on. And I was at a whorehouse." He pauses, before turning away and waving mindlessly.
"Give me one bloody reason why I should."
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 5, 2011 17:26:19 GMT -5
For some reason, the mention of any living being, naked in a brothel of all places, in Arthur's cloak filled Francis with inexplicable rage. It was so sudden, so violent, that even Francis was stunned. The thought of anyone else with Arthur left Francis restraining his usually even temper.
It took Francis a moment to realize he was glowering fiercely, and another moment to school his features. He fell back to his natural lazy smile, one that was equal parts coy and smoldering.
"Because you owe me," replied Francis in a low, silky voice. "You owe me two nights. And if you don't see to your end, I'm afraid I will have to issue your penalty...whether you like it or not. I can guarantee the former."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 5, 2011 17:35:51 GMT -5
Arthur's back was turned, but the sudden, seemingly halted silence interested him. He couldn't make out what the exact problem was, or reaction, but there was something.
Which was always useful.
The green-eyed man turns around, and sighs. His tone is practically the opposite of Francis'. Annoyed.
"And what the bloody hell is the 'penalty'? And if you dare pull any of that 'you'll have to find out', then I'll bloody take the cloak back, thank you very much. Which I'm sure you don't want, since you've appeared to have grown very attached to it."
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 5, 2011 17:47:16 GMT -5
At that, Francis pouted, displaying his full lips to their advantage by pushing the bottom out slightly in a mildly put-out expression. If he couldn't appeal to Arthur with inviting smiles, then he would have to play another card.
"Now, don't be so unpleasant," he said with a little whimper. "You wouldn't want me to freeze to death, won't you?"
He allowed himself a little shudder for effect. Retreating further into the cloak he breathed it in with what was both a contented sigh and a moan.
"I was just going to point out the advantages of keeping close together. Won't we both be much warmer if you're here with me? And, well, if you prefer a much higher, more pleasant temperature, I'd be happy to oblige."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 5, 2011 17:59:58 GMT -5
"...."
Arthur looks at him for a moment, before gently making his way over to the other, kneeling down in front of Francis and even gazing at him rather intently. Before anything can happen though, there's a slight, amused smile and Arthur flicks him in the head. As he speaks, his tone is rather... level. Soft. Genuine.
"... What are you doing, Francis? Trying to seduce me? Trying to come onto me? Because it's.. well. Pathetic. I don't fall for such bloody tactics, especially since I was used in order to please someone else's desires. Come on Francis, even I know you're a better man than that."
He gently reaches forward, tenderly brushing a hair out from the other's eyes. Reminiscent. He looks at him, still speaking in that reassuring tone.
"You keep romanticising and reminiscing and claiming you still saw a part of me that no one else gets to see. Well, maybe that's true, maybe it's not. But you seem to forget that I remember the Francis I saw back then. Someone who wasn't hiding beneath masks. Someone who actually seemed to care about something more than sex. Someone who was incredibly, incredibly lonely and would save a stranger's life in order to release a little of that loneliness and take comfort in a grateful companionship. You know what? I preferred that Francis better, too."
He holds the soft gaze a moment longer, before patting his knee and straightening up, turning away to clear up some stray ashes.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 5, 2011 18:13:57 GMT -5
The whole time Arthur touched him and looked at him, truly looked at him, Francis could only stare. There was just so many things happening, so much, that Francis was frozen and wide-eyed. When he regained his mental and sensual faculties again, he realized he had a hard time swallowing - and that his sight was becoming a little blurry.
He took a deep breath and willed himself to be calm, but it was hard when he could feel his heartbeat race and his stomach explode with a million fluttering wings.
Without thinking, his hand shot out and he grabbed Arthur's arm. Francis didn't know why, but all he knew was that he didn't want Arthur to leave or stop looking at him with those eyes and those eyes needed to stare at his own forever and not stop -
"You said it yourself." Since when did he sound so breathless? "Stay here. Please."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 5, 2011 18:25:42 GMT -5
Arthur's eyes widened a little at the sudden motion, and he looked down at the other. He blinks. Then he seems to recognise the sort of expression in Francis' eyes and sighs, his expression softening slightly.
"... Looks like I'm not the only one who's been injured. Injury doesn't always have to be physical to be dangerous. ..... Only if you sleep."
He's already settling back down beside the other, a bit more gently this time. He gives a light sigh at him.
"Also, don't cry. I don't have any blooming handkerchiefs on me in this outfit." But a hand goes back out, and gently places itself around Francis.
Only repaying the favour, of course. Of course.
|
|
