Warning for homophobia.

Standing at the window in the early hours of the morning, Francis smiled. "I'll see you later today?" His parents had gotten home yesterday, so they were back to having to sneak around.

Straddling the open window, Arthur nodded. "Of course. Why wouldn't I want to see you after this?" They had explored each others' bodies as with the first day, but nothing more.

Grinning, Francis leaned over and kissed him lightly. "Alright, see you then."

Annoyed with his heartburn, making it impossible to sleep, Frédéric glanced out the kitchen window as he was grabbing some pills. Why was his son's light on? And who was that standing with him... It was then he saw Francis lean over to kiss the obviously male figure.

Smiling as well, Arthur slipped out of the room and started off towards his home. Hopefully his father wouldn't care that he hadn't seen him for a few days, so he could get some of his own clean clothes and maybe have a shower before going to the creek.

Going back to bed, Francis was surprised when his door opened and his father walked in. Usually he pretty much left him alone when he was in his room. "Hey dad. What's up?"

Not even bothering to reply to his son, Frédéric raised his flat palm and slapped him across the cheek. "JUST WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" He yelled, glaring at his son.

Hand going up to cup his stinging cheek, Francis jumped out of bed. "What? Why...?" He had always hated his father, but this was the first time he had been hit. "Are you drunk or something?" He yelled in French, not caring how early in the morning it was.

"I wish I was drunk." He spat, disgust in his gaze and voice. "Who was that scum you kissed?"

Realizing that he must have seen, Francis looked to the ground. "Don't you call him scum!" Merde, he was found out. Maybe, as long as Arthur's dad didn't find out, this would all work out... but the look in his own father's eyes told it all.

Growling, Frédéric paced around his son's room. "What were you thinking Francis?" He asked, switching to English. "You weren't. He's a man, not a woman. You can't have a family with him. I won't let you see him." Stopping, he whispered. "We're moving back to France."

"What? No! You can't control me! I don't care what you say! I want to stay here!" Moving back to France? How could he possibly do that now! His life was here, with Arthur! There was nothing for him back in France, nothing!

Staring his son down, he growled. "You are my son and live under my roof. You'll do what I say, and we are moving back to France. You used to complain about it here, so why don't you want to go back? Don't say it's because of that filthy rosbif."

Rage pent up inside Francis, turning his face red. "I hate you! I wish you were dead!" He then proceeded storming out of his room, and to the front door. How could his father do this to him? All he wanted was to make his life miserable!

Barely batting an eye, he went downstairs to start planning the move. It actually worked out, since his sous-chef was terrible and their family missed speaking French. Plus it would keep his son from being around such a terrible influence. Obviously his son couldn't be gay since he had gone out with women before. That Englishman forced him into a disgusting relationship.

Seeing the figure in the distance, Francis ran to try and catch up. "Arthur! Arthur wait up!" He yelled, slightly out of breath. He couldn't leave, he just couldn't! They could make this work, somehow.

Turning around, Arthur frowned. Why was Francis following him? And why was he running? "There's no reason to run, I've stopped. I'm not going to get hurt, am I?" Seeing the redness of his lover's cheek, his eyebrows furrowed. "What did your old man do?" Many a time when he was younger he had been slapped and hit by his father. It had stopped now. Mostly.

Holding onto him, Francis caught his breath. "Arthur... I love you. Run away with me." It was the only way they could still be together, after all. They could run away to London or something, and get a small apartment and jobs. They could do it!

Sputtering at the confession, Arthur didn't let his original question go. "St-Still, what did he do to you? Don't even try to say he did nothing." Why else would Francis be like this? Sure Arthur was pretty sure he loved him as well...

"Do you want to run away or not?" Francis asked, ignoring the questions about his father and looking right into Arthur's green eyes. If they both loved each other, it would all work out fine if they ran away, and weren't separated.

Staring at Francis, he said. "I love you too... What were you thinking?" Sure he had brought the question up on Friday, but now his boyfriend seemed serious. "Please tell me what happened first."

Looking away for a second, Francis shook his head. "Nothing happened, just tell me you will run away with me, as soon as we can, as far away from here as we can. Please!" He couldn't tell Arthur that they were moving away because his father had seen them, or else the Brit would blame himself.

"Francis I will go with you, I just want to know why you're so keen." Something had happened with his father, and the Englishman wanted to know what. He was glad they were still a block away from his own house so his father wouldn't see them so close.

"That's good. Can you get train tickets? As soon as possible. Meet you at the creek!" He started walking off in the direction of the forest, in the early morning light. He just couldn't tell Arthur that his dad knew about them, and was making them move away.

Arthur stood dumbfounded as his lover ran off. Just what was he talking about? "Francis!" He yelled, deciding to follow him and get to the root of the problem. "Francis stop!"

Slowing down, the Frenchman dreaded the coming conversation. As long as Arthur still agreed to run away with him, he wasn't going to tell him what had happened. Maybe he could make something up, that might work.

"Even if you won't tell me what happened, why do you all of a sudden want to run away as well? Blimey, we could leave now for all I care. I have nothing of importance." Still, Arthur could sense that something happened with his father.

Shaking his head, Francis leaned against a tree. "We need to get train tickets. Neither of us can drive, and the train is the only other way out of this small town. It's not like we can walk." Which was really annoying. If you wanted to get out of Paris, there were no end to the ways you could do it.

Frowning in confusion for Francis, Arthur asked again. "Please. Just tell me what happened. You can trust me."

Going forward, Francis took his face in both his hands, bringing him into a deep kiss. That would work better than pointing, shouting Elvis and making a run for it. He tried to keep the kiss going as long as possible, before Arthur pushed him away. "I love you, that is why I want to run away together. Isn't that reason enough?"

Arthur sighed. "It is. I'll see what I can do for train tickets. Do you want to spend the day at the creek?" He asked, knowing that neither wanted to go back home.

"Yes, please. Maybe later we can go together to get the tickets." It wouldn't take long to pack. It would also be good if they brought food with them, because it would take some time to find jobs enough to pay for food and rent.

Nodding, the Brit lightly kissed his boyfriend before he moved away. "I love you too Francis. I'm glad we're doing this together and not alone."

"Me too, mon amour, me too."

.oOo.

Laying in bed, Francis couldn't sleep, mostly because he could hear his parents talking about him. They were planning to move this Saturday, to get him away from the 'bad influence of the British' as soon as possible. Luckily, they had been able to get train tickets for Friday, so they would be long gone by the time his family moved. It had been easy to pack, because they were all packing for the move, so his parents didn't notice.

"Frédéric, I know we all miss France, but Francis seems to have become happy out here. So what if there is a British boy, we can just make sure they don't have a chance to be together."

"And how are we going to do that?" Frédéric said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We both work, and it is summer so they will not be in school. If we stay here much longer, our son will become gay. He will be living a life of sin. Is that what you want?"

"No, but he deserves to be happy. Still, we all do miss France. Maybe this came at a perfect time. After all, we will be back for his final year and if he went to a new school he could make new friends. I don't want Francis to hate us because of it..."

Putting his head in his hands, Frédéric grumbled. "He already hates me. I don't know how you talk to him so easily." Ever since he was a kid, they never could talk about anything, and if he asked Francis questions, it sounded like an interrogation.

"It's ok. I'll show him why it's good we're moving. Je t'aime, mon amour." She whispered, hugging her husband's shoulders. "Before long we will be back in France and our son will have a nice French girlfriend to explore love with."

.oOo.

Grabbing his things, Francis looked around his room quickly to make sure he had everything he would be needing. He had packed as much nonperishable food as he could find, as well as enough money to keep them going for at least two weeks. The moving vans would be here tomorrow, and the train was leaving in a few hours.

Knocking on Francis' bedroom door, Roselette called softly in French. "Francis honey, I'm coming in." Just as she looked inside, she gasped as he was half way out his bedroom window. "What are you doing?"

Eyes wide, Francis didn't know what to do. He dropped his bag outside the window. Maybe if she didn't see it, this wouldn't seem as bad as it was. He could claim he was sneaking out for one last night with his boyfriend, instead of running away with him.

"Are you running away?" She asked, touch of raw hurt in her voice. Was Frédéric really that harsh on him that he felt he had to run away? Or was it because he wanted to be in his sinful relationship?

"I...I..." Francis swallowed, trying to think of something. It was obvious now that she had seen the bag. But there was still one good thing about this situation. It wasn't his dad that had found him. "How can you expect me to just do everything he says?" He yelled suddenly in his native language.

"He's your father Francis." Roselette said calmly, still distressed that he would want to run away. "Why did you think that was all you could do? Do you not want to go back to France? You complained so much at first."

Throwing his leg over so he was back in his room, Francis leaned against it. He could deal with his mother. "At first, yeah. But not now! I love him, I really do." As long as she didn't call his father, this might still work out.

Sitting down on his bed, she gestured for Francis to do the same. "I can't stop you from loving him, but it's not your best path in life. Two men aren't supposed to love each other."

With a role of his eyes, the boy sat on his bed. "Don't give me that. There is a reason we kept it secret, so don't think that we don't know that it's not accepted." They could get through it, no matter what. If it really became too much, they could move to Canada or something when they got enough money.

"I know you aren't dense Francis. At least, I would like to think I still know my own son." Pausing, she pressed. "What were you going to do when you got away?"

Scratching his head, Francis glanced outside the window. "Don't you mean what am I going to do? You said yourself that you couldn't stop me, so me and Arthur are catching a train and getting out of here. I don't care if father learns about it after I'm gone."

She knew this would happen. Even if she didn't approve, it didn't mean her son had to run away and ruin their lives. "I can't stop you, you're right. But I can try and get you to see why that wouldn't be a good idea."

Glaring lightly at his mother, Francis shook his head. "I doubt you can do that." He would have just left, but really didn't want to leave such a bad impression with the one parent he didn't mind.

"But I can try, can't I?" Roselette asked, her eyes shut for a moment. Opening them, she sighed. "I know you care about this... boy, but do you really want to do this to him?"

Suddenly looking at her, Francis opened his mouth but closed it for a second. "...What do you mean? I wouldn't want to move away and leave him, if that's what you're asking." That had to be what she was talking about, didn't it?

Shaking her head, Roselette looked into her son's beautiful eyes. As much as they couldn't agree, he and his father were extremely similar. "Not that Francis. I mean, are you going to risk both his future and your own? If you run away now, there is no way your lives can be better."

Biting his lip, Francis thought it over. He could care less about his future... but would it really be alright to make Arthur go through that as well? Sure, he had agreed to run away with him, but the Parisian hadn't really given him much of a choice, the way he asked. "He... He loves me, so he doesn't mind." But there was much less conviction in his voice now.

"If you run away at sixteen, you both will have nothing better to look forward to than maybe being cashiers for the rest of your life, and possibly living on the streets. Do you want to do that to someone who 'loves' you?" Even if Roselette didn't agree with them being homosexual, it was still wrong to bring someone you cared about down.

Face screwed up in emotion, Francis looked out the window to the forest, where Arthur would be waiting for him. But, now that his thoughts were to the future, and not just to them being together, he knew that it would be horrible if they went along with it. "I... don't want to leave him..." A single tear found it's way past his eyelid, flowing down his cheek.

Roselette took her handkerchief and wiped away the small bead of moisture. "Love is a fickle friend Francis. You may feel this way now, but when you're back in France you will find another person who captures your heart in such a way. You are young, and so is he."

Shaking his head, Francis couldn't talk past the lump in his throat. Why would he want to find someone else, when the perfect person was just a few minutes walk away? But if they moved... he would be much more than that.

Sensing his unrest, she said. "I will go get your bag and I promise that your father won't hear of this. Please don't be upset. You haven't even truly lived yet, mon fils."

Nodding, Francis stayed seated on his bed, head down. After all this, it was the end. He would be gone, and never again see his first love. But maybe it was fair, after all, no one is supposed to stay with their first love forever.

.oOo.

Arthur looked around the small clearing, giving an audible sigh. Sure, they had planned to meet a few hours before the train got there, but that still didn't give Francis the right to be late! He sat down on the damp grass, trying to keep the boredom at bay.

Picking up a pebble, the Brit threw it in the water, watching as the water nymphs scattered. They never seemed lively anymore unless Francis was there. It kind of pissed him off. He remembered the fairies reaction, hearing they had done... Lewd things. The little perverts.

"Bloody hell, stupid frog." Just how long was he going to make him wait?

.oOo.

Waking up, Arthur wondered how long he had been asleep. He checked his watch, swearing under his breath. It was the next morning! They missed the train, and there wouldn't be another one for a whole week! Stupid Francis, what could he not get his window open or something? This was his idea in the first place!

Getting up, Arthur brushed some grass off himself and looked to one of the tree spirits. "You may like him, but I'm bloody pissed."

Trudging through the forest, Arthur gave a sneeze. Must have been from sleeping in the damp grass all night. Another thing he could blame Francis for.

Getting out of the forest, Arthur quickly made his way to the house he had begun to know so well. Turning the corner, however, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Why... Why were those people moving all their furniture? Why was a moving truck there, ready to take everything? It just didn't make sense. Arthur needed answers, and he needed them now.

Running to the house, he grabbed the sleeve of one of the workers. "What are you doing? You can't just take their stuff!" That had to be it, right?

Shifting the weight of the dresser, the man grunted. "I'm just doing my job lad now get out of my way."

'Just doing his job'? "What the bloody hell do you mean?" Arthur yelled at the poor worker, his hands balled into fists. "Why are you doing this?"

"Look, I have no idea why you would be this upset about these people moving, but they are. Sorry lad." The man then made his way back to the house to brig out some more furniture.

Walking up to him, Ivan frowned. "They left this morning. To the airport. The plane they got on was going to France." He had seen them packing up last night. It was a good view from the bushes around their house.

"Ivan?" He asked, surprised that the large Russian could sneak up on him. Plus he was too confused to be upset with him. "France? How do you know?" Was this why Francis didn't meet up with him? The least he could have done was meet up and tell him.

Looking at him, Ivan smiled. "I followed them. The plane they got on was destined for France. That and the fact that all of their things are being moved means that they are moving back to France."

Creeped out that his former tormentor was being so close, Arthur murmured to himself. "France... Fucking France..."

"Da that is what I said." Why wasn't he understanding this? Well, not that it mattered. In fact, why was he still talking to Arthur? Ivan turned around and left.

"Bastard!" Arthur yelled, his body clenching up. "Fuck!" He yelled again, running away from the house. Why the hell didn't he tell him? Did Francis mean for this to happen?

Now that thought was depressing. What if this was his way of breaking up with Arthur? Their relationship couldn't happen since they were both male...

Unsure what to do or where to go, Arthur ran where his legs told him to go. Eventually he found himself at the creek, where he fell to his knees and shook with the force of his held back sobs.

Feeling something land on his shoulder, he looked over and was surprised it was only a leaf. He was sure it was one of the fae, coming to cheer him up. Mind you, with how infatuated they were with Francis, he shouldn't have been that surprised. Still, he looked over the area, trying to discern the flickering of their auras. "Ok, you can come out of hiding. I won't hurt you. I'm not even going to smoke." He said quietly to the clearing, waiting for those speaks of light to appear.

A few moments went by and he was still sitting there, nothing coming towards him. "Hello?" He said again, waiting. Arthur knew a reason for why they might not be appearing, but that was something he had never thought would happen to him. Other people lost the goodness in their hearts or had the innocence of the world taken from them. Not him. They were just playing a prank on him. Once he started to cry, they would appear... He wouldn't be lonely...

The end. Sorry for the sad ending, but for those of you who have not read it, their journey continues in The Heart Never Forgets, which can be found here, ht tp:/w .n et/s/6554167/1/The_bHeart_b_bNever_b_bForgets_b Just take out the spaces.