The minute Arthur woke up he could tell it would be a very bad day. One of those 'I should have stayed home and in bed' days because you know what? It was Valentine's day and he was stuck with Francis. Whatever chance he had had at having a decent morning was completely ruined.
"Hey, you. Yes, Frog, YOU. Move it." Arthur grumbled, shoving his way past the Frenchman.
"You could have at least said 'excuse moi'." Francis sneered, angrily turning the page in the book he was reading.
"I'm in a foul mood. I'm stuck with you all bloody evening doing some stupid project, I don't have any ounce of politeness right now. So bugger off, you foul git." The Englishman scowled, a look that seemed permanately etched into his pale skin.
"I don't know what crawled up your arse and died, but it's no reason to be snotty with me." The older of the two blondes retorted, slamming his book shut, unable to concentrate with the Brit nagging at him as if he were a child. Or worse, his lover.
...Actually, that wasn't a bad thought. Francis smirked, and stood, trailing his hand lightly across the polished wood and over to where his partner was sitting. "Hey, you know, it's Valentine's day, and.." The male started, placing his hands on the Brit's shoulders, running faint circles upon his blades with his thumb.
"And, what? Hey, don't touch me, you frog!" Arthur snapped, jerking his shoulder from the man's grasp.
Francis continued as if nothing happened. "You and I both know you don't have any plans for this evening. "
The Brit raised an untrimmed brow. "Your point being?"
"I figured I'd try something." Francis said, taking a hold of Arthur's wrists so he couldn't move. Arthur naturally tried to protest. "What are you trying?! Hey, I'm talking to you!!"
Francis ignored the man's questions and pressed his lips upon the youngers in a chaste kiss. At first Arthur was mad. REALLY mad. He tried to free himself from the pervert's clutches, to no avail.
Francis laughed at the man's struggle and began kissing along his neck. He could feel those piercing green orbs staring into his very soul. He felt every ounce of that hatred, but did he care? No.
"I swear, once you release me you're going to pay, stupid frog!!"
"Mhm, whatever you say, Artie." Francis used the old nickname and bit down on the skin between Arthur's neck and shoulderblade.
"Don't call me that-!!" Arthur spat and bit back the unwanted moan as he was bitten. "G-Get off me!!"
"Non, I quite like this. You look so helpless, but that mouth of yours certainly is a problem." The Frenchman murmered, dragging his lips slowly along the Brit's neck and back to his lips, finally releasing his wrists, placing his own hands on Arthur's hips.
Now, don't get him wrong, Arthur's first impulse was to push the man away. It was rape for God's sake!! But the moment his wrists and hands were free, they didn't smack him, oh no. They betrayed him and tangled themselves into golden French locks. To make matters worse, his body continued to act against him and opened his mouth when the Frenchman pressed his tongue against his lips. Damn how he loathed this man but he felt so good.
It didn't last long, Francis eventually pulled away, wiping the drool off his chin and smirking. "Well, well, looks like you rather enjoyed my advances, eh, Arthur?"
Arthur jerked his chin to the side and pulled up his shirt, which had been pulled down so Francis could bite him earlier. "Whatever, I hate you, bloody frog."
"I hate you too." Francis sneered once again and folded his arms across his chest.
Arthur slid his eyes over to the man standing before him and licked his lips. He was debating on whether or not to....Oh screw it. He launched himself out of the chair and back onto the other man, their lips meeting once again in a battle of tongues and hatred.
Loving to loathe one another... it described them all too well.