Dancing to Our Own Beat ~ UkFr

Dancing to Our Own Beat

Arthur couldn't understand why he had agreed to this in the first place. Most likely out of a moment of weakness. Or a fit of lust that had drawn him into this. A need for the sex that would have been withheld the moment he said no. Who was he fooling, though? Everyone knew their relationship was anything but “pure”. Everyone knew of his weakness for sex and how the other blonde always threatened to withhold it.

He dropped his head to his hands, a non-alcohol induced headache coming on. “How did I end up here?” The blonde muttered, trying to remember.

~.~

The British male was just finishing his work for the day. He signed the last document, pushing it aside, and let his head fall into his hands. Having took the weekend off, at his boyfriend's request, his boss had forced Arthur to work through the day with only a ten minute break for lunch. He wondered for a moment what put her in such a horrid mood before realizing that it was more than likely the annoying, French blonde in question.

The sound of a throat being cleared brought Arthur back to the present, followed by a, “Mon amour,” in his most seductive tone possible. The green eyed blonde looked up and immediately wished he hadn't.

Francis was standing against his doorway, looking as if he was trying seduce the frame. His pants were tighter than usual, shirt buttons popped open to reveal his chest, and blonde hair that was normally tied back fell loosely onto his shoulders. As if to add to this, he had a look on his face that said “Bedroom, now.”

“What the bloody hell do you think you are doing frog?” Arthur snapped, more surprised than angry. In all the years that he had known Francis, the Frenchman had never looked so...so...so slutty. It was refreshing, but more strange than anything.

Letting out his signature laugh, the blue eyed blonde stalked forward. He pushed aside the papers and sat on top of the desk, right in front of the Brit. “Isn't it obvious?” Francis asked, accent showing more than usual. “I am trying to seduce you amour. Tell me, is it working?”

Arthur didn't answer for a moment, not sure what the other wanted to hear. Then, he decided why not? “No. Your idiotic plot is not working git. Now tell me what you want.”

The other raised an eyebrow. “Really now?” He pushed off the desk and straddled Arthur's waist. “And, now? Is it working?” The British man gulped and shook his head again. Francis leaned forward, lightly brushing their lips against the other. His hair felt to curtain around their faces. “Arthur?” At feeling the head shake, the Frenchman thrusted his hips forward, rubbing them against the other male's teasingly before pulling away.

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He reached forward and attached their lips together, slipping his tongue into the other's mouth. His hands snaked around to Francis' waist, pulling their hips back together. “It's working you git, now let's move this to the bedroom.”

Francis chuckled, pulling away from Arthur. “Non, non, mon amour, not just yet.” He slipped the Brit's hands from his waist, pulling himself up until he sat back on the desk. “You want my body, then you must do something for me.”

The blonde frowned, crossing his arms in annoyance at the sudden withdraw. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I am wearing this outfit for a reason, though it worked well in seducing you. These are my dancing clothes,” he leaned back, as if to show them off more, “and I want you to take me dancing.”

“Absolutely not!” Arthur hated dancing, and the Frenchman knew it. He knew that the British man couldn't, and never would, dance under his own free will.

The over dramatic blonde sighed. “Very well then.” He stood, strutting away. “I am going to stay with Antonio and Gilbert for the rest of the week then. You can satisfy yourself.”

“H-hold it!” Arthur stuttered, clearly surprised. He stood, making his way over to the other. “Are you really withholding sex from me just so I will take you dancing.”

“Oui, basically.”

“And if I say no?”

Francis' smile turned smug. “I can withhold longer than you, mon amour. It is only a matter of time of me not being here that you cave. So, I can wait.”

Arthur bite his tongue. “Bloody hell.”

The Frenchman lightly touched his shoulder, smiling. “It is just one night of dancing. I will even let you drink, et you know how I try to get you to avoid that.” He softly brushed the British man's chest before pulling away entirely. “Your choice.”

~.~

“What is with that look?” Francis teased. He placed a drink in front of the Brit, taking a sip from his own 'fruity' looking toxin.

Arthur shook his head, hoping for once the other would leave it at that. One look at the Frenchman proved Arthur wrong. “Fine, I just don't like this, being here,” he motioned around them, to the up beat music, dancing people, and rapidly changing lights. “This is your scene. You can do this with Antonio and Gilbert, have more fun than you would with me.”

Francis stared at Arthur for a minute before laughing. “But, I wanted to share this with you, mon amour.” He reached forward and kissed the other tenderly, before taking his hand and pulling him from his chair. “Now, come dance with me!”

“I can't dance you frog!” The Brit snapped finding his efforts useless as he tugged through the dancing bodies. Francis only stopped when they stood in the center of the dance floor and all of Arthur's means of escape had been eliminated. “Bloody frog.”

“Angleterre,” his green eyes lifted until he met the other's pleading blue, “please? Dance with me?”

Sighing, Arthur nodded, finding it impossible to deny the other anything. All he could do was watch as Francis danced, swaying back and forth every now and again, while the music played. After what seemed like an eternity, the Frenchman grabbed his wrist.

“Place them here,” he explained. He placed the other blonde's hands on his waist, wrapping his own arms around the British man's neck. “Sorry, mon amour. I know you do not enjoy dancing, but perhaps this type is more of your taste.”

Arthur stared at the other male in shock. “But...we are not even following the rhythm of the music. Is this even allowed?”

The Frenchman simply laughed, shaking his head. “All that matters now is you and myself. As far as I am concerned, the music does not exist.” Francis rested his forehead against Arthur's allowing his own eyes to close shut.

Arthur stared at the other man, shocked by his words. Then, he decided to play by the other's rules for a while. He leaned in and kissed Francis, letting the rest of the world fade as they danced to their own beat.