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Fruk week 2021 // Day 6: Wishes

SORRY I HAD TO XD

#fruk #aph france #ukfr #francis bonnefoy #aph england #aph fruk #aph francis bonnefoy #aph ukfr #aph arthur kirkland #arthurkirkland #FrukWeek2021 #Fruk Week 2021

FrUk Week 2021: Day2

@hetaliashipsweek

Prompt: Childhood/Old Age

Paring: FrUk

Word Count: 2012

The Luckiest Man Alive

They had been married for fifty years. It still was hard for Arthur to believe. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, but at the back of his mind, there had always been that lingering thought that Francis would finally notice all his shortcomings and leave him. At least over the years, that voice had quieted immensely and Arthur learned to allow himself to be happy without worrying that it would be taken away from him.

If someone had told five-year-old Arthur that the annoying little French boy in his class would eventually become his lover, he would have kicked them in the shins. No way he could ever like someone as snobbish as Francis. The boy never failed to insult Arthur’s ‘fashion sense’ or steal his pencils. Then again it probably didn’t help that Arthur had the tendency to pull Francis’ hair and steal his books. By the first grade, things had escalated to the point the two physically and verbally fought on the daily. There were a lot of punches, bruises, and meetings with the principal during those elementary school years, but for some reason, they always kept coming back to each other.

Middle school rolled around and life got complicated. During the final years of elementary school, Arthur’s mother had been diagnosed with a serious illness. What that illness was was never revealed to Arthur even after her death, but that didn’t stop it from tearing the family apart. He had never gotten along with his brothers, but with their mother being in and out of the hospital and pressure being added onto all of them, especially Alister, they began taking out their stress on each other. They fought every day with some confrontations turning physical (on both ends). After a particularly bad fight, Arthur showed up to school with a black eye. At lunch Francis inquired about it, pushing him until he snapped and shoved Francis against the locker, hissing, “My mom’s sick and my brothers hate my guts so shut up or you’re going to be my punching bag.”

For once, Francis was shocked, and instead of shoving Arthur back, his gaze softened as he said, “I’m so sorry to hear that Arthur.” Before he could do anything else, Arthur pulled away and took off down the hall. It wouldn’t be the last argument that ended with secrets being revealed. At least both had enough respect not to bring them up again.

By the time high school rolled around, the few friends Arthur had made over his childhood years had moved away or went to the other high school in town. The only person he knew going in was Francis and once more the two of them gravitated towards each other, but this time it wasn’t for a fight. Arthur was tired. His mother had passed away a month before school had started and the feeling of home left with her. The Brit had become a shell of his former self, often isolating himself in the school library during his free time and throwing himself into his school work. He didn’t socialize unless he had to for class and began avoiding Francis like the plague. It began to worry Francis and around Christmas of their first year, Francis cornered Arthur in the library, ready to get to the bottom of whatever was eating at his enemy. Surprisingly it was easier than he thought as the Brit quickly broke down and through tears began explaining everything. The fact his mom died, that he was sick and tired of arguing with his brothers and has been couch hopping for a couple of weeks because he didn’t want to go home, and every other minor inconvenience that had been building up in his life.

Francis was stunned into silence, but before Arthur could run away like he always did when things got too personal, the French boy pulled him into a tight embrace. And Arthur let him, too tired for any struggle or to push his emotions deep down again. Francis had invited him to stay over that night and Arthur had accepted though he was hesitant. There were no arguments or fighting for once and instead they talked about other things, interests, classes, other normal teen stuff. It was nice and for the first time in the past three years, Arthur felt safe and comfortable.

After that fateful day, fights between them grew few and far between. They still bickered and argued, but it was now a more friendly matter. Francis introduced Arthur to his new friends Antonio and Gilbert and the four would remain friends well into adulthood and even old age. They were annoying just like Francis, but they also cared about him and were there for him when he needed it. But he could really do without the constant jab that Francis and he were like ‘an old married couple.’

College is when Arthur’s feelings of friendship started becoming feelings of romantic love. Francis had found a cheap apartment not far from their school and the two decided to rent it together to save money. They fell into quite a domestic routine. Francis cooked for him since Arthur could never make anything not burnt while Arthur did the dishes. Francis did laundry while Arthur folded and put the clothes away. Arthur would go out to the small garden on their balcony and Francis would join him a few minutes later with water or juice and a little snack for them. Francis had a lot of morning classes so Arthur would wake him up with a cup of coffee or tea. Arthur finally felt at home and he realized he wanted to live with Francis for the rest of his life. He tried to deny it at first, but each time Francis smiled Arthur felt his insides melt and whenever he called his name in the soft moments of the evening, he imagined being called to cuddle with him. He loved Francis, but he was too scared of possibly losing him if his feelings became known. After all, their relationship had already been turbulent, why shake it up even more?

Although they may have been getting along better than they ever had, they were still Francis and Arthur, prideful through and through and unable to go too long without some form of argument. Things were starting to build up on Arthur again with school and his growing feelings and he was starting to become more snappy than normal. They had had a few of their friendly arguments before, but eventually, everything became too much and Arthur went off at Francis when the Frenchman pushed a little too hard. “I thought we told each other everything,” Francis screamed.

“Shut up!”

“No. Not until you get it through your thick skull that pushing things down until they boil over is not healthy. I don’t even know why I bother? You’ve never listen-”

Next thing either of them knew, Arthur had Francis pinned against the wall, silencing him with a heated, angry kiss. As soon as Arthur noticed what he was doing, he pulled away, but not enough to let Francis go. The Frenchman looked at him, cheeks red, hair a mess, and eyes wide. Without a word they leaned in once more, connecting their lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

The following morning, Arthur awoke, wrapped up in Francis’ arms in Francis’ bed, clothes strewn around the room. For a moment, he allowed himself to admire the sleeping man next to him. Even with bedhead, Francis’ hair still looked beautiful and soft. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes closed, bare shoulder slightly exposed. He looked so peaceful and content which made Arthur’s heart flutter.

“Like what you see?” Francis asked, his eyes opening halfway and a soft smile spreading across his face.

“Sh-Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And Arthur did, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss on Francis’ lips. When he retreated back, embarrassment and doubt began setting. What did this mean now? Were they lovers? What if things didn’t end up well? He couldn’t bear to lose this man after everything they had been through. Maybe it was best to just forget what had happened and go back to being friends.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Arthur stuttered out. He pulled the covers up defensively, trying to avoid that kind loving gaze.

Francis was quiet for a moment and when Arthur stole a glance at him, he almost looked disappointed. “You know?” Francis began, his smile quickly returning, “We don’t have to call it anything you don’t want to. You liked what happened last night right?”

“I-I suppose…”

“I did too. Would you want to do more than just that? Like cuddle, kiss, and all that?”

Arthur was silent as he thought it over, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “If it makes it easier,” Francis continued, “I wouldn’t mind doing that kind of stuff, but if you don’t want to...I won’t push.”

Francis really was perfect. Attentive, loving, respectful when it mattered. What did he see in Arthur who just seemed to be a ball of anger and pent-up feelings? But the knowledge they wouldn’t be making this an official thing (at least not yet), put Arthur at ease and he decided to accept it.

A couple months later, Arthur had worked up the courage to accept Francis’ offer of a date, and of course, being the thoughtful lover the man was, Francis provided him with the ideal date. They had gone to the park for a picnic lunch before heading to the theatre for a show. At night they cuddled up in Francis’ bed and fell asleep. It had been a pretty good day, but Arthur’s competitiveness had been sparked. Next date, he was planning it and he was going to impress Francis.

He got a reservation at the new French restaurant in town. Francis seemed to have enjoyed the food, but he said he could have always made such a meal at home. Arthur only rolled his eyes telling him that he was doing something nice for him so be grateful. Francis had giggled, making Arthur realize just how deep he was. It was exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking. After dinner, they headed out back to a garden area where a wishing well stood. “Do you have a coin?” Francis asked, peering into the well.

“You’re lucky, here.”

Francis pulled the coin to his chest closing his eyes before tossing it into the well with a plop.

“What did you wish for?” Arthur asked, peering down into the well.

Francis brought a finger to his lips with a wink. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

Arthur’s nostalgia trip was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist and a firm kiss being pressed into his neck.

“What are you doing mon amour?” Francis asked in a low voice.

“Just...reminiscing.” Arthur lifted his hand, admiring the silver band on his finger. “Who would have thought we’d be here, like this, all those years ago.”

Francis chuckled. “Mhm. At least my wish came true.”

Arthur twisted his head to get a better look at the man behind him“Are you talking about that one you made on our second date?”

“Oui.”

“And what was it?”

“I would marry and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You big sap.”

“Peut-être, but you love me for it.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, you wound me,” Francis exclaimed, clutching his chest.

The two lovers erupted into a fit of laughter before going in for a kiss. It was sweet and quick, matching the playful moment. I couldn’t last forever as Arthur noticed the time. “We better go pick up the boys from the airport,” he suggested, “they’ll be landing soon.”

Francis planted one more kiss on his forehead, before taking Arthur’s hand and pulling him out the door. Truly, Arthur was the luckiest man in the world and he had over fifty years' worth of evidence to prove it.