A frog and a limey walk into a bar [Francis]

Francis watched Arthur as his visably relaxed and smiled a bit himself, leaning on the bar and a little bit closer to the Brit, eyes raking up and down his frame absently. "Non... non you are just attractive. And I do not 'ave a stick up my ass, it is... just a healthy... awareness of my body."

It wasn't like he was completely lying, he knew he could go overboard sometimes- but his emotions usually got the best of him and he really just couldn't help him. "And I just..." he sighed heavily. "Do you know I cannot stand the sight of blood?" he admitted quietly.

The Brit chuckled. "I would have never guess from the way you so bravely examine open wounds." he watched the gaze travelling over him, flushing a little and shifting, hunching a little, as if to hide his body. Those eyes were disconcerting. He cleared his throat, wavering slightly.

"You know-" he said, rather suddenly, sitting up a little, as if just making the discovering of sliced bread (hell, one could almost see the lightbulb burst into light above his head) "I don't think I've ever had a proper kiss."

The blue eyes locked on emerald and Francis blinked- once, twice, three times before finding the words to speak. "You 'ave... never-" he laughed once weakly, shaking his head. "Non, non you must be playing with me. How could you grow up without kissing anyone? Ever?"

He frowned, eyebrows wrinkling together as his fogged mind tried to piece together the pieces of Arthur's story- something must not fit right. The Brit had to be lying there was just no way that someone could never have been kissed for... what? Twenty-three years? And that was if Arthur was truthful about that...

"Haven't you had a girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

Shaking his head slowly, Arthur drew lazily lines on the bar, staring at the dull reflection of the lights in the lacquered wood. "No, never..." he said, shrugging, "There was never enough time, I had studies to do."

Later, Arthur would regret spilling this much to anyone. Usually he said that he was smart and left it at that, but here, some of his past seemed to spilling out, aided by the sweet haze of liquor and the warm feeling enveloping him.

"I had to save James, had to read, never looked up from a book... Not until now at least. When you damn well stole the papers from my hand and just-" he paused, shaking his head, "-made me look up."

Francis listened quietly as Arthur spoke, not completely sure he could've found something to say if he had even wanted to interupt him. A strange feeling seemed to wash over them and he felt his throat tighten, his buzz killed a little- but he found he didn't really care. Arthur looked absolutely- downtrodden, and that wasn't right.

He leaned over carefully, the look in his eye changed from predatory to slightly nervous- Why was he nervous? He hadn't felt like this since-

"Kirkland..." he said quietly, reaching over and letting his fingers guide Arthur' chin back up to lock their eyes again. "I..." But what could he say? There were still really no words that he could find. He could question about James, or why it was so pressingly important to study, but the questions just didn't fit right now.

So he decided to do something that he really hadn't done before. Normally, it was against his morals- but at least this felt right. He closed the distance between them, his hand sliding just a bit up to cradle Arthur's jaw as their lips met delicately, stealing away his first kiss.

I really made you look up?

It was so hesitant, so unexpected and so soft that Arthur lingered there for a moment, simply feeling the warmth of Francis against him. The fingers were cool against his heated face and he felt his eyes slid half-way shut as he carefully pulled back.

Oh God he could feel the dopey smile, the trembling int he very tips of his fingers and an almost burning feeling boiling in his chest. All at once he felt elated but at the same time the embrace and brought him back down with a stunning realisation.

His intern, Francis Bonnefoy had just kissed him. And a part of Arthur, one had not known he had until this very moment, wanted to do it again. Instead, his fingers tightened into the material of his pants and he lowered his gaze slightly. "M-Mr Bonnefoy," he breathed quietly, "What- I don't-"

The Frenchman didn't try to prolong the kiss, but he didn't pull away when Arthur did either- He stayed close and allowed the Brit to break the kiss, smiling softly up at him and letting his fingertips linger on the cheek. "S'il vous plait..." he said quietly. "Is there anyway I can get you to call me Francis?"

A little part of him was worried- the part of him who had missed the silly grin and only saw Arthur's hands tighten and the emerald eyes look away. He didn't want this to be something that the doctor regreted, really that was why he usually never kissed anyone without knowing it would be reciprocated.

Deiu why did you do that? Stupid- perverted- merde.

"I don't-" Arthur trembled slightly starting to slid out of his seat, "I can't call you that- W-We're colleges, I mean we work together everyday- And you know office romances..." What were these words spilling out of his mouth, they were just falling out, his mind not even trying to stop them and-

His hands were clutching at the Frenchman's collar, holding it tightly, knuckles turning white. "And I mean the possibilities of us working out are simply nil, you can't possibly believe that we'd function as a normal couple with my yelling and your..." he swallowed, leaning forward, nose brushing the Frenchman's as his head tilted, "Your... absolutely breath-taking stubbornness..."

Francis had almost thought to stop him as he stood up from his seat but didn't get very far- he was pulled forward slightly, Arthur's hands gripping his shirt and the green eyes much too close than he thought they would get willingly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, the words taking only a few moments to process before he smiled slightly. "Shhh..." he hushed the Brit, slipping out of his own seat and ignoring the few eyes that had stopped to watch them. "We could... take it a step at a time."

What was he offering? The Frenchman, who had never bothered to keep a steady relationship for more than a month or two, was actually offering to try a stable relationship? He knew Arthur was completely right- they were almost complete opposites in every aspect and how were they suppose to work together if they were... more romantically interested? But for some reason, he didn't really care at the moment, about what could happen or the consequences of getting involved.

He breathed out quietly, tilting his own head as well and pressing their lips together again as one hand slid into the sandy blonde hair and cradled the back of Arthur's head.

Leaning back against the stool, Arthur sighed slightly into the kiss, content in that haze of gin, the low-light and stares of the bar and the tips of Francis' hair gracing his face. This was rather nice, warm and almost safe and his body seemed to be working on it's own, arms sliding around the thin shoulders, pulling their bodies flush.

This was irresponsible, impracticable and utterly idiotic... but he couldn't care. This was going to be regrettable in the morning when he was sober, recovering from the small hangover and would be seeing the Frenchman walk into his office with his morning tea as he did every day. He'd lock eyes, that flush would travel over his face and he'd apologise for his actions and this would be over.

But for now, in this one small moment, he allowed his brain a little break and followed the directions of the tiny muscle in his chest.

An arm slunk around Arthur's waist as Francis deepened the kiss, their bodies pressing firmly and the slight taste of alcohol apparently between their lips. He knew that was the only reason why they were doing this, the alcohol that is. Any other time they fought like cats and dogs with a grudge- well, more Arthur just yelling at him and Francis teasing him back, but fighting described it well enough.

His lips parted just slightly to make the kiss a little more insistant, and he mused vaguely if that was taking it to far for someone, who, just a few minutes ago, had never been kissed. If Arthur thought so, he could always pull away- Francis' hands were holding him tenderly, but not overly tight.

He wondered too, if it was just his heart that was pounding against his chest- or if that was Arthur's as well.

Disappointment sank into Francis' chest and he leaned back against this seat as he watched Arthur retreat slightly. He hummed thoughtfully and nodded. "Oui... Of course," he said easily, his own smile slipping onto his face. "I will... see you tomorrow."

His smile warmed slightly as he save Arthur's red cheeks and smile, trying to commit the image to memory. Chances weren't good that he'd get another shot at this, and he highly doubted Arthur even wanted it- even if... his body language said otherwise. The Brit was just too stubborn- to by the book and well, prudish.

But Francis knew that wouldn't stop him from trying again.