'Ello mates! I have returned and I present to you yaoi~ I dedicate this fanfiction to my friend Potatoe who requested some FrUk :) And thank you Gibby-Kun for Beta-ing this. I love you bitches. I hope you all enjoy.
What the bloody hell?
Hundreds of crazed teenagers screaming their arses off, a group of overly preppy cheerleaders encouraging the useless screaming, the obvious closet-case football team flexing their muscles and grabbing each others asses for no apparent reason, and the damned frog dressed as the mascot dancing to some repetitive rap songs with pointless lyrics.
I hate pep rallies; hate them with a burning passion. The noise, the jacked up energetic kids, the annoying twit of a mascot. Everything. It's all nothing but an excuse to get out of classes just to "promote" school spirit. Hah. School spirit my British ass.
I sat alone in what many people like to refer to as my "emo corner". Trying my hardest to ignore the pitiful mascot whom was throwing confetti at my face, I pulled out my emergency backup book-it was times like these when I truly thanked the heavens for providing me with literature- and began reading. This was undoubtedly a living hell.
As I sat there in desperation, I let my mind drift off to its happy place. What exactly was this happy place, you may ask? My happy place... Is alone in a quiet room-secluded from the world and all the utter bullshit that comes with it- indulging in the surplus of unread books that I have recently inquired for my fifteenth birthday.
Where could I- correction, where WILL I- go to find peace? After deciding to just ditch the pep rally, I quickly navigated through the sea of students, looking for a way out.
Several minutes later, I find myself standing in a bathroom stall, cautiously trying to find a place to sit. After seeing that the area was somewhat sanitary, I plopped down onto the tiled ground and pulled out my phone, skimming through the new text messages from Alfred.
'Haai! Ditched skool with Mattie. Going skinny dipping in neighbor's new pool while they r in Hawaii :D' I smacked my forehead. Figures. At least that git didn't force me to go. I found a text from Kiku asking about today's book club meeting and another from that bloody frog, Francis, requesting to borrow my literature homework. Again.
That goddamned leech! I refrained from replying to Francis and flipped open to the bookmarked page in my novel about mythological characters. Just as I began to get comfortable, I felt my phone vibrate several times, signaling new texts. I groaned and shut my book yet again to deal with the interruption.
I opened the several texts from Francis, only to find that they all said the same thing.
'Arthurrrrrr' What the hell? I texted him back a simple 'what?' and quickly received reply.
"Arthur, mon cher, you should return to the pep rally." Like hell I will!
"You're missing out on some fuuuun!"
"Missing out on your idiotic flamboyancy in that mascot outfit? I doubt that is even considered fun." I sent that reply with a smirk on my face.
"Nonono. I am speaking about the fun WE could be having, mon cherie."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Before I could register what Francis had just sent me, a picture message popped up.
What the devil is that? Squinting, I attempted to figure out what the picture consisted of. Then I tilted my phone to the side and- Oh god... J-just... W-what the FUCK. Did Francis just send me pictures of his cock? Dick pics, crotch shots, or whatever people called it these days, it was all the same; And goddammit there it was, on my screen.
What in fucks sake was that slimy French jackass thinking? Was he deliberately trying to mentally scar him? Was he trying to mind rape him? All of the above?
I quickly tore my eyes away from the obscure image and returned to reading my book. B-but damnit... It was difficult to concentrate after having your brain forcibly fucked. I tried... I tried so hard to focus on the exquisite piece of literature before me, b-but Francis was- He... T-that fucking bastard was consuming my mind. Stupid French-French. . . NO!
I was loosing to him and frankly, with my nether regions burning like Hades at the moment, I didn't care. I slammed my book shut and fumbled through my pocket for my phone. My mind was racing; my stupid uncontrollable heart was thumping.
The way I scrambled to find that dirty picture of his prick-Dear GOD his rather large prick-, the way I had to bite my bottom lip to keep the sounds of pleasure from escaping as I tentatively slipped my hand down my stomach and teased the hemline of my jeans... It was embarrassing to say the least. That damn git was just so- Dare I say it-...Attractive...
I panted as I slowly-ever so slowly- rubbed myself through my pants. Ugh... What the hell had influenced me to join in this new fad of wearing 'skinny jeans'? My crotch was killing me! I quickly pushed the painfully tight jeans down past my knees and instantly felt relieved.
Alright, Kirkland. It's time to get serious. I pushed myself against the wall and spread my legs apart and- Blimey, I must look so pathetic now... A-and vulnerable...
In the back of my mind, I always beat myself up over not getting any action and having to resort to such measures to satisfy my needs. But hell, I can't help it. I won't just let Francis rape the shit out of me. No. I'd rather pleasure myself to porn rather than receive some STD, courtesy of the lovely Francis. Yeah...
I glanced back at the picture and unintentionally gripped the growing tent in my Union Jack underwear.
"Mmmph! Ahhh!" Egad! Did that wretched noise just come out of MY mouth? Jeez, how long has it been since I last did this? I could barely recall. Brushing off the thought, I continued pleasuring myself through the cloth barrier, mentally kicking myself for not finding a more private place to let out all the lusty noises that were being forcibly silenced. Francis. Francis Bonnefoy. S-shit I want him so bad. In me, out of me, and back in again. And again and again. . .
I began to stroke faster, beads of sweat slowly rolling down my face and down my neck and lower. I felt dirty. I wanted more, but alas, that was impossible. To wish to be filled by the French beauty... Was that wrong? To wish to be fucked against the wall right here and right now... Was that wrong as well?
My breaths were hitched and I was in dire need of release. The sounds of my hand rubbing up and down my dripping cock were now echoing throughout the empty room. I licked my lips, letting out a whimper.
"A-ah f-fuck..." I looked down to see the precum sliding down my shaft and dripping onto the floor. I bit back another moan as I began to play with my slit.
I could barely hear anything over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. My hair stuck to my face and I don't doubt that my cheeks were tainted some ridiculous shade of red. I must look like a dog in heat. Or a fifteen year old Brit masturbating to pictures of his buffoon-of-a-friend's erect member. Either way worked just fine.
Footsteps. I somehow remained oblivious of the footsteps creeping into the bathroom, most likely due to my willingness to not be caught in such a . . . Demeaning state. And can you guess who those footsteps belonged to?
Come on. Take a wild guess.
I spotted the flashy dress shoes and yes, that confirmed that those footsteps indeed belonged to no other than-
"Mon Amour . . ."
Tch. I hope that was bearable enough for you guys x3
Holygrapejelly, writing from Arthur's POV was more difficult than I thought it would be.
Anyways, shall I continue? I'm debating over it.