Pompous Blue of Peacocks

"Petit Lapin!" Arthur barely had time to turn around before he was nearly knocked off his feet by Francis and his tackle. Francis grinned at him, all teeth, eyes glinting with a predatory gleam that he recognized. Before it was gone and the Frenchman's face was buried in his neck. "I've missed you."

"Get off me, you git. I'm here on official business." Arthur felt his face flush as Francis only held on tighter, kissing the sensitive skin behind Arthur's ear. If it weren't for the relative privacy of the garden around them, he would have been absolutely mortified. It just wasn't proper for two men to show each other such affection, in public no less.

"Official business? That won't be starting until tomorrow afternoon." Francis looked up and gave him his charming smile. The same smile that had men and women alike baffled and mystified. The same smile that charmed nobles and commoners into his bed. A smile he should have learned to resist long ago, but just couldn't say no to. "Come, spend the evening with me, Petit Lapin. I haven't seen you for so long."

Arthur sighed, and made sure it was known that with no great pleasure he agreed. As they walked through the gardens, Arthur took a moment to study Francis. The years they had been apart were kind to him. His hair had grown, and Arthur had to restrain the urge to run his fingers through it, test its silkiness. For a brief moment, Arthur thought that Francis had grown shorter, then realized that he himself was wearing heels. And then it occurred to him that Francis was not, even though shoes with heels were popular.

"Ha. Not keeping up with fashion, are you, Frog?" Arthur dutifully ignored the arm that tightened around his waist. Francis looked up at him in question, and he pointed to his flat shoes, elegant as they were with the carefully stitched patterns and tiny jewels.

"My dear Petit Lapin. When you are as esteemed as me, you will understand. Why follow fashions when you can lead them?" Francis laughed as Arthur growled, and pulled him towards another path through the walls of flowers and hedges. "Come, I will show you my private menagerie."

Arthur raised one eyebrow. As always, the action gained laughter from his companion. He could appreciate the laughter though, because it wasn't the usual titter he gave while in court. It was mocking, maybe, but Francis as himself. "Menagerie, you?" He questioned incredulously as though to say 'well, I must see this.' Francis smiled widely.

"Of course. Not those vicious beasts they keep on the other side of the park. No, no, just birds." They came upon a small pavilion, made mostly of glass, nestled among roses and hydrangeas. The sunlight through the trees played on the glass and made it sparkle. The same sunlight dabbled on Francis's hair and face, lighting up his eyes and smile. He remembered suddenly why he had always compared Francis to the images of angels on cathedral walls.

"Even birds are surprising, Frog. I thought you hated animals." Francis pulled a shiny key from his pocket and pushed open the glass door. Inside, it was humid and smelled heavily of flowers and birds. High above, different birds in an array of colors flitted from treetop to treetop. Lark song mingled with less familiar birdcalls, cluttered and noisy. "There must be hundreds of them in here." Arthur mumbled.

The smile Francis gave him was a proud one. "More than that, Petit Lapin." Arthur watched Francis's face, but Francis was staring up at a row of colorful purple and yellow birds that seemed to chirp right at them.

"Who takes care of them?" He whispered in amazement, following the movement, engaged in the flaps of hundreds of pairs of wings.

"I do, of course!" Francis grabbed a banana from a small box, wrapping Arthur's fingers around it. The yellow skin was smooth and waxy. "Put that right over there, and watch." Arthur stared from the banana in his hands to the widely grinning Francis who flicked his fingers to get him to move. With a sigh, Arthur did as he was told. He stepped back, and his jaw dropped as bright blue birds dropped down on the banana to pick at it.

"I'll admit it, Frog, this is some collection." The look Francis gave him was one he knew well. Even though his chest swelled with pride, he tried to school his expression into one of humble thanks. It never did work. Never would, he realized. He gave a small smile of his own.

"Those are Great Blue Turaco birds, a gift from Africa. And I have Chickadees, and Peacocks and Wrens." Francis grabbed his hand once more, dragging him over to a secluded area with chairs, designed so that the birds could not get in. They sat comfortably beside each other, breaking the silence only so that Francis could lean in and tell him the name of a bird.

"Everyone must be missing us by now." Arthur announced, plucking his hat off the table to place it back on his head. He stood to leave, but was stopped. Francis's thin fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back. His forehead was crinkled in a frown, and Arthur had to restrain the temptation to smooth the frown away. "What is it?"

"You had fun, right?" Cerulean eyes, ones that he had not seen for what seemed to be an ungodly amount of time, blinked up at him in the innocent way Francis had long since mastered. "I've missed your angry Englishness, Petit Lapin." He dragged him closer to hug him around the middle, and Arthur had to beat back his blush.

Slowly, his fingers caressed the top of Francis's golden head, fluttering over the silky strands, tangling them. "Yes, yes. And I've missed your perverted Frenchness, Frog." The words were whispered fondly, and Francis chuckled into the fabric of his jacket. A parade of peacocks marched passed the sitting area, seeming to glare at him. "Come. The others are waiting."

Francis stood, and caught Arthur again before he could attempt to leave. This time, he pressed their lips together, a sweet, brief kiss, distracting him from the choking perfume of flowers and the raucous calls of the birds. "I've missed this the most, Petit Lapin."

Arthur smiled, and quietly kept the fact that he had missed it too locked away.

Owari