Re: Same Job, Different Time and Place [R-18] - Part 2

[Mr. Kirkland]

“Alright then,” Arthur agreed with a nod and was about to get up to go and phone Francis but Alfred kissed him on the cheek and made him want to stay a bit longer. “Don’t be sorry,” he returned the kiss, pecking Alfred’s opposing cheek. “Shit happens… but what did he say to you do get you so riled up? I haven’t ever seen you like that before,” his voice got quieter but he held Alfred’s gaze, looking a little uncertain.

He raised a hand to card through Alfred’s golden locks.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred just frowned at that and he just leant closer to the other. He knew that there was the no secrets rule they just implemented and it really wasn't right for him to not tell him. He had every right to know...though it felt a bit silly now that he could see it from after the incident.

"Um..." He started off, sighing a bit. "He...well...he just pretty much implied that you weren't worth it. Not that he said that specifically but last night, I was just really angry that he started you on them and then...wouldn't even stay." He drew patterns on the bed sheets. "I thought that you never deserved that. That you were worth more than anything I have and I guess I just got really riled up."

He swallowed. "It's really stupid now that I look at it the day after but at the time, I hated hearing him say those things. I was just frustrated with not knowing anything and then suddenly learning everything and at the time, all I could really blame was him because he was just right there."

He really did feel bad. Because it all seemed really silly now but even thinking about it still made him somewhat frustrated.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur listened patiently, not interrupting him at all as he just continued to stroke Alfred’s hair. He exhaled slowly and rested his head atop of Alfred’s, closing his eyes a little. It was incredibly sweet to hear him say these things. It was even sweeter that he’d gotten angry on Arthur’s behalf. And that he was apparently ‘worth more than anything he had’.

He pecked the top of Alfred’s head, holding him close.

“I have to be honest, if I had been in his situation then I probably would have done the same…” he murmured quietly. Now it made sense why Francis left; there was a numb sting in his chest. “I don’t blame him for it all. Although I do hate him for leaving but life goes on. Unless he’d left me, then I would have never found you.” He paused, “I’m sorry that I kept you in the dark and didn’t tell you.”

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred sighed softly, understanding. He knew that it was hard for someone to deal with somebody like that though knowing himself, he would have probably tried his best if Arthur was still in that situation. But fortunately enough, he didn't have to go through with that, though he still had to try helping with his eating habits and help him eat more. It was definitely a goal that he had in mind.

Though at the time, he really couldn't even see it from Francis's point of view. Well in a way, he could but at the same time, he cared so much more about Arthur and he had been able to see the after effects of it all. Even though Arthur was a professional, hard working man now, he still felt a bit hurt when he saw either his scars or sometimes even his ribs.

He smiled a bit though at the last statements.

"Yeah, for that at least...I'm glad. Even if he left you hurt, I'm glad that I was able to have you instead." If he didn't have Arthur, he would probably still be working just to survive a lonely existence. "It's alright," He breathed out. "It was something hard in your past. It definitely would have taken you some time to tell me about it."

[Mr. Kirkland]

“Pfft, to put it lightly, yes,” Arthur chuckled a little and nuzzled Alfred quickly, giving him another quick kiss before he stood up, reluctantly remembering that he had to get a move on. “I’m just glad that, aside from punching Francis, you didn’t react too badly. Clearly, I don’t shock you anymore, eh?”

He tapped his cheek gently and went to retrieve his coat.

“I should get going if I want to have lunch with you… ask at the reception for directions to the Notre Dame. You can walk there from here. You’ll like it.”

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred really didn't want Arthur to leave but he knew that he would have to. So instead he just nodded, giving him a small smile. "Well, if you don't call punching Francis that bad of a reaction, then I really don't know what to say." He thought about it for a moment. "But it was in the past. It's not something that I should get angry at you about."

Watching as he got his coat, he was at least glad for the small, extra kiss.

"Don't worry," He assured with a small mock salute. "I'll be able to find my way to Notre Dame! And if not, I can use my brilliant French abilities to help me out!" He winked teasingly over at Arthur.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur looked over his shoulder at Alfred as he pulled on his coat, an eyebrow arched upwards.

“Right, well, if you get mobbed, be sure to let me know?” he smirked a little, walking back over to him for one final, lingering kiss on the lips before he decided that he should leave. He gave a small smile to his lover and headed for the door.

“I’ll see you later, love. Don’t get kidnapped or anything, will you? Take care.” He waved a little bit. “Bye.” And he was gone.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred just laughed, rolling his eyes as he kissed him back. "Mm, don't worry. I'll let you know that I got mobbed with my black eye," He teased as he laid back on the bed and finished up his breakfast. He just hummed softly.

"Don't worry. If I get kidnapped, I'm sure the news will say something about Paris being a lot quieter in the absence of one loud American!" He joked with a good natured grin before finally pulling the covers over himself.

Looking at his phone, he decided to set the alarm near lunch time so he could at least sleep more until his alarm went off.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur eventually got a response from a very reluctant Frenchman, who sounded like he had a hangover. He was surprised Arthur had managed to get hold of him, to say the least. He questioned Arthur if he was stalking him. After a lot of what Arthur assumed Francis thought was ‘witty banter’, he was given permission to go to Francis’ apartment and talk with him.

The Frenchman answered in a bathrobe, showing off his ever-hairy legs and chest; he didn’t even look like he’d trimmed his beard yet. There was a slight swell where Alfred had punched him, and it had bruised but it didn’t look as if he was badly injured. It was obvious that Francis had actively decided not to make an effort for his arrival. The man hated looking anything but his best regardless of the visitor… but then again, he probably didn’t bother because he knew that Arthur wouldn’t care.

“What the hell happened to you?” Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“Mm, too much wine and sex,” Francis replied, voice scratchy. He padded away from the door, letting Arthur come into his artsy apartment. “Keep your voice down. Mon petit ami est dans la chambre.”

Arthur nodded in understanding, heading straight towards the window of the flat to look out at Paris.

“A view of the Louvre, Francis? You’ve come a long way.”

“Better than an alleyway in Hackney, uh?” Francis seemed to be scuttling about, probably trying to make coffee.

“Yeah,” Arthur smiled a little.

“Café?”

“What?”

“Coffee.”

“Ah, no thanks,” Arthur shook his head, going to take a seat on the sofa. Francis was walking about his tiny kitchen.

“Have you eaten?”

“Pardon?”

“I can make you some food. Uh, some eggs or something, oui?”

“Uh no…”

“But you haven’t eaten!”

“Look, um, Francis, just sit down and stop flapping about. I need to talk to you about something important.” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little awkward.

Francis stilled however and gave a one-shouldered shrug (a typical Parisian). “D’accord, I am listening.”

“Alfred is sorry about what happened last night.”

Francis scoffed.

“No, really… I’ve never seen him act like that before. What you said to him really, really wound him up.” He sighed, “I’ll cut to the chase. Unless you agree to work with Chouchoute, then Alfred’s career is fucked. He’ll be sacked.”

“And why should I care?” Francis frowned. “I don’t have any obligations to your company. He hit me and I am not sure that my pay will be enough.”

Trust Francis to talk about how he was being discriminated against whilst wearing a too-short bathrobe (Arthur had a horrible feeling that there wasn’t anything on underneath it, either).

“Because he’s a young man who has his whole life ahead of him, unlike an old tart like you and I,” Arthur pursed his lips and Francis looked somewhere between amused and appalled.

“An old tart? You are not helping your case at all, mon cher. I do not care if a miscreant works or not.”

“He’s not a miscreant,” Arthur snapped before he could help himself and began to blush as Francis stared at him. “I… I really love him, Francis. And he needs this job so desperately. It’s all he’s got.”

“He’s got you,” Francis said calmly.

“But I can’t pay all of his bills for him.”

“You could try.”

“Francis,” Arthur seethed, “Please? Look, I… I’m not asking for much. Just as a favour, for me?”

Francis ignored him as the coffee boiled in the kitchen. He poured himself a cup and casually sipped at it.

“Well?” Arthur prompted, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Non,” Francis shrugged.

“No?” Arthur felt empty. “But why?”

“Because I do not care for the way that they treat their designers. And I would have to go to New York all the time,” he said it as though it was obvious, but Arthur had noticed how his reasons had changed every time.

“Francis, I’ll… what can I do to make you change your mind?”

“Rien.”

“You irritating bastard!” Arthur lost his temper, jumping to his feet. “Why won’t you help me? I don’t understand what I’ve done to you to make you hate me so much!”

Francis put down his coffee mug before he got more involved in their conversation (discussion, argument, etc). “I can think of a few reasons, mon lapin.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Then do not pretend to be innocent, it does not suit you,” Francis glowered.

“Go on then, you French frog. Name them. Give me a fucking list!”

“You blame me for your drug addiction, you are arrogant and foolish, you are an egoist, and you do not understand that you must pluck your eyebrows if they look like a dead animal upon your forehead!” The Frenchman pointed accusingly at Arthur’s eyebrows.

“My eyebrows are not a reason to hate me! They’re one of my prominent facial features!”

“Is that what Alfred tells you when you fuck him, uh?” Francis sneered. “Ah, Arthur, harder! Your eyebrows are so beautiful, ah~!” he seemed to be getting into his impression, voice breathless and soft before his expression soured again. “Pah. Your eyebrows are so special that they vomit rainbows when you ejaculate,” Francis spat. Arthur flushed a deep shade of red.

“Fuck you!”

“Va te faire foutre.”

“I am so bloody close to giving you a black eye to add to that pretty little bruise of yours,” Arthur threatened and Francis just laughed at him.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said bitterly and Arthur recoiled, immediately feeling bad. He had hit Francis before, it had to be said. But he was suffering from withdrawals from his addiction. Of course he was going to lash out at the person that stood in his way. “You know,” Francis continued, “I always hoped you’d get better.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to hope that I died,” Arthur let out a nervous chuckle which Francis did not laugh along with. He just shrugged and it made Arthur’s blood run cold. Francis had wanted him to die…?

“Alors, you are healthy now and that is all that matters. But you must eat. Often.”

“I don’t like to feel full,” Arthur grimaced at the thought.

“Non, mais… I’ll make a guess that Alfred does.”

Arthur scowled, “Excuse me? What are you implying about my boyfriend?”

“He likes to eat. He was at the food table all night,” Francis’ eyes had mirth hidden within them, which was somewhat of a relief to Arthur.

“I think he’s discovered French food,” Arthur said simply with a sigh, resigned.

“Bien sûr,” the Frenchman chuckled. There was a slight lull in their conversation as Francis returned to sipping at his coffee.

“So,” Arthur started, “Will you or won’t you agree to work with Chouchoute?” he tried to keep his voice even.

Francis looked him up and down. “Does he beat you?” the man looked genuinely concerned.

“W-what?” Arthur spluttered, frowning a bit.

“Does he beat you?” he repeated, just as calmly.

“No! No, of course not! Alfred would never do something like that! He just doesn’t like your froggy face.” Arthur shook his head rapidly. “No. No, he would never do that. No.” He honestly didn’t want to think about that as a possibility. He shuddered a little at the idea of Alfred being anything like members of his family. Francis seemed to be satisfied with the response.

“Does he make sure that you eat?”

“Um, he tries to.”

“And he loves you?”

Arthur found himself gazing fondly at the window frame as he answered: “Yes, very much.” But Francis didn’t seem to react much, he just hummed. They were both quiet for a while. Arthur took the opportunity to look around the apartment, recognising a few ornaments and paintings.

There was one painting in particular that he could remember being present for. It was of the river Itchen in Winchester, Arthur’s birthplace. He and Francis had spent a weekend there once in an inn. It was strange to think about now. He and Francis had changed so much, for a start, Arthur’s wasn’t an addict anymore or as wild as he had been in his youth. At the time, he’d thought that things would never be any different.

“I’ll think about it,” Francis pulled Arthur from his thoughts.

“You will?” the Brit tried not to sound too excited. “Ah… thank you,” he said earnestly, quietly (in hope that Francis wouldn’t hear).

“De rien.” Francis looked like he was about to smile (blast). Things were getting much too nice between them; even when they’d been in a relationship they weren’t like this. “I have some drawings and paintings that I do not want anymore. They are mostly of you. There is only so much of a skinny Anglais one can take, uh?” Francis turned on his heel and went to retrieve a bag.

As Francis bent to pick up the bag, much to Arthur’s horror, his prediction was proved correct. Francis was naked under that bathrobe.

“Jesus Christ, Francis! Put your bollocks away!” he looked away and pointedly stared at the door, hoping that it would get closer if he looked at it closely enough.

The Frenchman looked embarrassed at first, tugging down the bathrobe as he handed Arthur the bag but he seemed to regain his confidence.

“Bigger than Alfred?”

“No, actually. I was just thinking how your balls have sagged a bit,” Arthur sneered and Francis seemed to go a little bit whiter than before which gave him a thrilling feeling of being vindictive.

“Ohon, hon, hon… you English. You are so funny,” Francis sounded pained and sarcastic as he escorted Arthur to the door. “So very… satirical.”

“Yes, of course… I thought that the French didn’t do satire?”

“Which is why you are not funny.”

“Touché.”

Francis held the door open for Arthur and leaned against the door frame. “Tell Alfred that he has a beautiful bottom, won’t you?” he grinned snidely. Arthur rolled his eyes. “But not as nice as my Antonio’s,” Francis added with a wink.

Arthur chuckled a little, “I wouldn’t know.” They exchanged a small smile. Arthur shook Francis’ hand. “I will see you again someday, I am sure.”

“Oui,” Francis agreed with a nod. “Au revoir, mon ami.”

“Bye,” Arthur nodded and turned to leave.

“See you in New York,” Francis said as he closed the door and from that, Arthur knew that he had safely protected Alfred’s job and secured a new designer for Chouchoute. What a day, and it wasn’t even past midday yet!

Arthur texted Alfred once he was outside of the building:

I will meet you by the Pompidou Centre.
Is 12:30 alright? I hope that you enjoyed
the Notre Dame – Arthur x

[Assistant Jones]

Admittedly, Alfred hadn't been able to really sleep all that much when Arthur was gone. He was nervous, not only for his own job but also for Arthur. He just hoped that Francis wouldn't be too harsh on his boyfriend simply because he was the one who made the mistake. It wouldn't have been right for the blame to be misdirected towards Arthur just because of his own actions.

He just hoped that Francis would accept, if only because he didn't want to find a new job and then have Arthur be the one to solely support both of them. While he knew that his own pay has never really been the best, he still paid for quite a bit of their things, including a lot of the rent of the flat. Though maybe they could improve...if he didn't actually get fired.

Despite not earning that much, it was still money that could be of use for them.

After an hour or so of tossing and turning, Alfred found that it would be much too hard to actually fall asleep when he had so much on his mind. Looking at the time, he still found that he had a few hours to go through Notre Dame and hopefully not get caught up with all of the tourists that were lingering around there. He just hoped that it would take his mind off of the nervousness.

So finally pulling on some decent clothing and feeling that bringing a fanny pack (when he hadn't even changed his dollars to euro yet) would be a bad idea, he finally went down to the receptionist to ask for directions. Thankfully they were kind enough to give him the directions in English and so with a paper in hand, he started to walk towards Notre Dame.

Fortunately enough, he really didn't get lost and even more fortunately, he didn't really have to talk anyone who spoke French! Which was something good considering that he was absolutely horrid at it. Well not that horrid, his pronunciation just needed some work....and his vocabulary....and maybe his grammar.

The moment that he got to Notre Dame though, Alfred's natural reaction was to look up with some kind of tourist awe. He was already fascinated with the gargoyle statues that were lingering around outside. Yet inside was simply much more impressive.

What would have been better though was if Arthur was with him. That would have been a lot better but he was pretty sure that Arthur had seen this many, many times. Though it didn't stop Alfred from wishing that Arthur was there with him and so he took it upon himself to climb up the towers and explore everything he could just for Arthur's sake.

It was finally when he got the text that he smiled, looking. He never had any idea why Arthur always added the x at the end but he supposed it was nearly the same thing as xoxo. He would probably never know. So with a small grin, he finally stepped out of the Notre Dame, quickly sending a text back.

ok! will meet u there.
really liked notre dame though.
hope everything went well.
u don't have to put ur name @
the end. xoxo

With that, Alfred started heading towards the Pompidou Centre.

[Mr. Kirkland]

It’s my message and I
shall do as I please. Refrain
from spelling like an invalid
– Arthur x

It didn’t take him long to arrive at the said meeting place. As expected, the square was filled with people. The fountain had changed since he’d last been there. There were now strange moving ‘works of art’ on top of the water. He would never understand the French and their love for such unusual, and sometimes unsightly artwork.

He hadn’t looked at the artwork Francis had given him, speaking of which. He was worried what drawings he was talking about exactly (as he couldn’t remember every single time Francis had drawn him because he’d been too high a couple of times). He didn’t want to find out what they were until he was alone. Which wasn’t likely, living with Alfred.

[Assistant Jones]

It was a while later that Alfred finally was able to get to the meeting place and looking at the time, he was glad that he was right on the dot. That was lucky. Despite the views on Americans, they did quite enjoy their timeliness when it came to meetings. Most of the time at least. It must have been the 'American businessman' worked into him over the years.

It took him a moment for him to find Arthur but when he did, he really couldn't help but grin a bit at the sight. Arthur looked better than he had in the morning, so maybe that was saying something.

"Hey Arthur!" He called out, waving as he jogged towards him. He looked curiously over at the other. "How did it go?"

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur was jolted from his thoughts as he heard Alfred approaching him, greeting him. He smiled pleasantly at his boyfriend, enjoying the nice reminder that everything in the world was in balance in that moment and that he didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

“Hello,” he replied softly and gave a small shrug before mentally scolding himself, worried of picking up habits from Francis. “I would say that it went pretty well. I don’t think your job is in trouble anymore.” He looked as relieved as he sounded.

“You enjoyed the Notre Dame then?” he asked, reiterating what he’d asked in the text.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred just laughed a bit, humming softly as he went to kiss Arthur on the cheek before thinking. He really didn't notice the shrug that Arthur gave, not always that observant on body movements when he really wasn't looking for it. Though the moment that Arthur told him that his job probably wasn't in trouble anymore, his eyes lit up in relief.

"Oh thank God!" He exclaimed, feeling a soft sigh of relief escape him.

He soon tried to remember back to Notre Dame and he grinned. "It was pretty great! Though it would have been greater if you were there. Half of the time I didn't even know what I was looking a but it was definitely really impressive," He admitted, nodding.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur mused silently at the way that Alfred really looked as though he was thinking hard, trying to remember just under an hour ago. The boy was so delightfully dim at times. He’d previously been admiring the spark in his eyes before that.

“You’re welcome,” the Brit smirked a little, his tone dry. “And you’re much to sweet, darling. I’m sure that you enjoyed it just fine,” he took a small step towards him and pecked his cheek. “However, I appreciate the sentiment… Where would you like to eat?”

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred was glad for the peck on the cheek back though he couldn't help but roll his eyes when he heard Arthur. "Really? You're asking me where to eat in Paris when I can barely ask for a taxi by myself?" He laughed at the thought of it though.

Maybe next time, he would actually study up more on the culture. It really wasn't completely his fault! He wasn't used to other cultures nor did he really think that he would get the chance to experience these cultures. It was definitely something new for him. Australia wasn't all that bad because at least he could understand the people. Even with their thick accents.

"Well, something smaller is fine. I'm still a bit filled up from breakfast," He admitted with a cheeky smile. "So anywhere is perfect. Do you know anywhere near here?" He looked at him carefully. "But at least get enough for yourself to eat also."

[Mr. Kirkland]

“Right-o,” Arthur nodded, choosing not to react to Alfred’s first comment. “Well, just about anywhere will serve food of some sort… so why don’t we try over there?” he gestured across at a small café opposite them. “It looks quite nice there.”

He hadn’t eaten for about two days by this point and his stomach was hurting. He didn’t really care too much about where they went to eat. He took Alfred’s hand in his and led him across to the square.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred had noticed how little Arthur had eaten recently and he decided that enough was enough. He couldn't let Arthur go around absolutely starving just because of things that were happening. He was determined to make him eat again. So with a smile, Alfred soon grabbed the other's hand and squeezed it reassuringly before following him across the square.

"Well, make sure you order something or else I might have to feed you in public myself!" He joked lightly.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur gave somewhat of a nervous laugh. “Ah, um… yes. I was, ahem, planning on eating something actually.”

It wasn’t that Arthur avoided food, it was just that he either forgot to eat whilst on the go or he didn’t feel hungry when he had the opportunity to stop and eat. When in the office, he was usually busy so he often had too much on his mind to remember that he had to stop. He’d forget that Alfred needed to eat sometimes, only beginning to notice he hadn’t eaten from dips in his mood.

“But you feeding me doesn’t sound too bad,” he shrugged, smirking a little to himself. “Just save it for the bedroom, darling.”

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred reddened a bit at Arthur's last comment and he rolled his eyes, huffing softly. "Honestly! And you're the one who tells me to be more decent in public!" He laughed though, squeezing his hand just a bit more firmly though his cheeks were still obviously red.

"Well, it would definitely bring something new to the bedroom," He admitted, a bit sheepishly actually.

He knew that Arthur had a tendency to forget about food, he had been together with him long enough to realise this. So he had to make it his duty to make sure that Arthur got enough food! Though he smiled and looked around Paris, just enjoying the scenery.

It was definitely a change.

[Mr. Kirkland]

“It would,” Arthur agreed with a small chuckle, enjoying how he’d made Alfred blush. “Worth a shot, then?” he interlaced their fingers, not really caring about how scandalous their conversation was. The majority of people wouldn’t be able to understand then anyway. “Well, name your food of preference and we’ll do it,” he shrugged (again, mentally scolding himself for doing so).

He sat down at a table, smirking a bit at the dreamy look Alfred had on his face as he looked at the scenery.

“You look like a moonstruck cow,” he mused.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred couldn't help but grin at the thought of it. Though in all reality, he might have been a little too flustered to do it. Though if Arthur was ever up to it, then he would be more than happy to jump on the opportunity. "Definitely," He agreed though still somewhat flustered. Fortunately enough they weren't in New York where almost everyone would understand them. He hummed a bit and rolled his eyes, laughing. "Well let's see what we can buy later in the store," He added on as an after thought.

Though at the odd....analogy, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"...Really? A cow? Couldn't you have made a better analogy than that?" He pouted as he sat down at the table.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur was admittedly a little surprised at the suggestion of looking for something later on, but he wasn’t protesting. It sounded… intriguing. It wasn’t something that he’d tried before, and it wasn’t as though their sex life was thriving at that moment in time. So maybe it was time to start spicing things up a bit? Although, of course, Arthur was certain that he would never be able to get enough of Alfred, regardless of their sex situation. He would always find the American attractive, even when he was red in the face, dripping and stinking of sweat when he got back from the gym.

“Yeah,” he grinned a little as Alfred pouted. He gave Alfred’s knee a pat. “I’m joking,” he added to reassure him that he did not, in fact, resemble a cow at all.

[Assistant Jones]

Alfred really wasn't sure about what Arthur really wanted to spice up their sex life, if they really ever needed to do that. He really wouldn't mind trying...which was horribly embarrassing when he thought about it. He had been rather vanilla recently and he couldn't help but wonder if Arthur maybe wanted more than just that. Well...maybe they could go later...and check out what they had. Hopefully he would still be able to keep his dignity intact.

"You better be joking. It would definitely be weird to say that you're screwing a cow," He laughed with a roll of his eyes, soon leaning over to peck his cheek.

[Mr. Kirkland]

Arthur blinked, raising an eyebrow. He leaned a little towards the kiss and let out a puff of air in amusement. “No, love. I’m not Welsh.” He knew that Alfred wouldn’t understand what he was talking about, but he didn’t care too much. He made himself laugh with his own joke, which was a little bit sad… but he didn’t care.

He finally reached for the menu and began to read through it, looking for something that sounded appetising to him.

“Are you going to eat, too?”

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