The final installment of my France lemon! Hope you liked :3
Once again, music playlist is in the description (to help you get in the mood~)
When you got home you had two letters from Francis in the mail; they were the ones that he was writing while you were still with him. They were so sweet in nature that you forgot all about the stupid naked apron. In the one he described how much love he felt with you laying there asleep next to him; in the next letter he talked about all the other places in France he hoped to take you to see.
You didn't see Francis for another three weeks, until he arrived at your door on a Friday afternoon. You had been crampy all day because you had your period, and seeing him on your doorstep was a wonderful surprise.
“Bonjour, mon amour!” he said and kissed you on both cheeks emphatically before seeking out your lips.
“Francis!” you said and repeated his name between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne and thought you might start crying.
“Three weeks eez far too long to be apart,” he cooed and ran his fingers through your hair. “I am at my absolute limit.”
“Francis, I have some bad news. I have my period.”
“But we can still – you know – right?”
“I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling up to it. I feel sweaty and bloated...”
“I 'ave 'eard zat eet eez more comfortable for both when you are on your period.”
“You mean you haven't before?”
Francis scratched his cheek. “Er, well no.”
“Maybe we can tomorrow. If I'm feeling better.”
Francis set about making sure you were comfortable. He put a romantic movie on the television and then you both cuddled under a blanket while watching it. You couldn't be happier snuggling up to your French hero while he massaged your crampy lower back and abdomen.
The next morning your cramps had abated. You could hear the shower from across the hallway while you awoke. You were so rested after the pain of your cramps that you felt bold. The bathroom door was unlocked (which didn't surprise you) and you crept into the steamy room while Francis was whistling in the shower. You silently stripped your clothes, trying not to giggle while the man showered unsuspectingly.
You pulled the back of the shower curtain aside and climbed in. “Good morning!”
Francis started, and then laughed. “Good morning eet eez. I sought you were still sleeping.”
“Nope.” Your eyes wandered from his face to his chest as a trail of suds slid deliciously over his smooth skin.
“Shall I wash your hair for you?”
You grinned. “Sure.” You bumped him playfully out of the way so you could wet your hair in the stream of warm water. You closed your eyes and brought your hands up so you could fully rinse your hair. Upon opening your eyes you noticed a light blush dusting Francis' cheeks. He fumbled with your (favourite scent) scented shampoo bottle and squirted some in his palms. You turned around so the water was spraying your chest, and Francis began massaging his hands through your (h/l) hair.
“Your 'air eez so beautiful, mon amour,” he murmured from behind you and rubbed his fingers into your scalp. You could feel his body brush up against yours every so often.
“T-thanks.” You closed your eyes and enjoyed both the spray of water on your skin, and Francis' fingers trailing through your hair.
“Spin,” he said, and you turned to face him so he could rinse the shampoo. He took great care to make sure none ran into your eyes.
“What do you still need to wash?” you asked, reaching for his body wash.
“Well, ze truth eez I was almost finished when you came in. But...I sink I could stay for a bit longer~”
“Is that so?” you asked, acting coy. “I guess I don't need to wash you, then. You can go.” His face looked as if he had been robbed of his toy on Christmas morning. He moved the curtain and was about to climb out, but you yanked him back in and laughed. “I was only kidding, silly! Come here.”
He “honhonhon”ed and closed the curtain while you dampened the washcloth with his body wash. You motioned for him to turn around so you could wash his back. You massaged the soap into his skin, while admiring the smooth planes of his back. You rubbed the washcloth up and down slowly, and Francis relaxed. He sighed when you moved the washcloth higher and massaged his shoulders, then down his arms. You breathed in the familiar scent of his body wash.
“Mon amour, why are you teasing me?” He glanced over his shoulder to look at you.
You stuttered and felt at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”
“You're getting me all worked up, but you don't want us to do anysing while you're on your period.”
“I didn't say we couldn't do anything here. In the shower.”
It took a second for him to clue in, and then he got a devilish look in his eye. He brushed past you to rinse the soap off. “Alright, your turn.” He took the washcloth from your hands and you turned your back to him. He rubbed the cloth across your lower back in a wide circle.
When a moment had passed and he hadn't moved from that area you said, “It's not just my lower back that needs to be cleaned, you know.”
“My apologies...” His hand roamed across your stomach and up across a sensitive breast; they were tender while you were on your period. His fingers grazed past a nipple and you had to stifle a moan. Suddenly both his arms were around you, the one with the washcloth trailing up and down your hip while the other fondled a breast. “How selfish of me to let your back 'ave all ze attention.”
You let a moan escape your lips and reached behind you to rub your hands over any part of him that you could. He found your hand and pressed it over his member, causing you to jump. You wrapped your hand around him and stroked him slowly, while the washcloth drifted between your thighs. You pleasured him as he pleasured you, and soon both your breathing became laboured. Your legs began to tremble and you were afraid you wouldn't be able to stand for much longer. Francis' lips found the back of your neck, and the feel of his mouth on your wet skin almost brought you to your limit. Francis had grown significantly in your hand and you knew he wouldn't be able to take much more.
He growled your name before removing his hand from between your legs and turned you to face him. He looked like a god with his flushed skin, his muscles tensed, and the water from the shower bouncing off his shoulders. “I can't wait any longer.”
“Me, neither.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and dragged his mouth down to yours. The kiss was wetter than usual, with the water streaming over your faces. His tongue pressed between your lips and danced with yours as he pressed you against the shower wall. You gasped as your skin met the cold wall and you arched your back. Francis groaned, pressing closer, and lifted your leg, keeping his hand firmly placed behind your knee. “Are you ready?”
You moaned in reply, unable to form coherent words. You buried your hands in his wet hair and he lifted you slightly so he could ease into you.
“Does eet 'urt?”
“No...silly,” you panted between thrusts. Your legs felt like jelly so you clasped them around his waist, lest you lose your footing in the shower. The sound of the running water spurred you on and you met his thrusts. The only sounds were the slap of skin as your bodies met, the running water, and your and Francis' moaning.
Francis placed his hands on either of your cheeks and stared into your eyes. He only held that position for a few moments before he groaned and pressed his cheek to yours. “You feel so good.”
You meant to say that he did, too, but you couldn't form the words when he began thrusting harder. You placed your palms on the shower wall in an attempt to hold onto something. The only way you could communicate how you were feeling was through soft gasps and moans, which seemed to spur him further. You rested your face on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of his skin. You bit the flesh there and could faintly taste his body wash.
“I'm close – so close,” he grunted and pressed you harder to the wall, grabbing your hand and slipping his fingers through yours.
He shivered. “Say my name again.”
You repeated his name over and over as you neared your peak. You felt his seed pour into you and the sensation made you quake around him with your own release. You rested your head on his shoulder and was glad he was strong enough to hold you up, because your legs would never have been able to support you. You pecked him on the lips and he helped you to your feet. You noticed he was grinning like a fool.
“Don't think we're making a habit out of this,” you said and patted down your hair.
“A habit out of what?”
“Doing it while I have my period.”
He smirked at you. “How about doing eet in ze shower?”
You paused for a moment, then gave up in defeat. “Fine.” He grinned because he knew you had liked it.
Your relationship progressed in a similar manner for over six months. You swapped turns going back and forth between London and Paris to visit each other. The absolute longest range of time that Francis (or you) could bear to be apart was three weeks. Francis still mailed you a letter every single day, but in addition to letters he made frequent phone calls.
You were talking on the phone with him during a day in April.
“I am sorry, mon amour, but I will 'ave to work zis weekend so I won't be able to come see you.”
“But it's already been over three weeks since we saw each other last,” you said. You desperately wanted him to come visit. You wouldn't be able to go to Paris because you were booked to work the upcoming weekend.
You heard him chuckle. “Do you really miss me zat much?”
“Don't tease me like that, you know I do.”
“Je suis desolé. But, I will be able to go to London next weekend. Can you bear to be parted for zat long?”
“I suppose so.” You felt like crying.
“Remember to annoy Arthur for me, okay? I will see you soon, amour.”
You moped around the house for a few days, then decided you needed to get away from home. There was a (fave genre) book you'd been meaning to buy, so you headed downtown to your favourite bookstore. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw Arthur while walking downtown.
“Afternoon, _____,” he said and smiled.
“Don't you have a conference to get to, Arthur?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “No, I don't believe so.”
“Huh, that's funny,” you said, more to yourself. “Francis said he had a lot of meetings this weekend.”
“Did he, now,” he replied, and you could tell from his tone that he was unimpressed. “I wonder what that bugger's up to.” After glancing at you he said hastily, “Well, I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason, love. Perhaps he has work other than meetings to do this weekend.” Before you could say another word, he added, “Listen, I'm afraid I'm quite busy today, so I have to run. I'll give you a bell later. Cheers.”
You tried not to think too much on your encounter with Arthur, because you knew you'd start to wonder what exactly Francis was doing this weekend. He said he had to work. Arthur said there was no work this weekend.
You had effectively pushed those thoughts from your mind when you happened to look through the window of a shop downtown. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw Francis – your Francis! – leaning over the counter toward another woman. You could see her cleavage even from where you were standing on the sidewalk, and Francis was grinning from ear to ear. The woman – the sales associate from the looks of it – was looking back at him with bedroom eyes.
Francis caught sight of you through the window, and the second you noticed, you ran. You felt as if you had obtruded on some private matter and didn't want to wait for an explanation. Or excuse.
That jerk Francis you thought angrily as you ran across the street just as the lights changed to red. He told me he wouldn't be able to make it here, and now he's bold enough to flirt with another woman behind my back. No. Stupid me. You knew what kind of guy he was from the beginning, but you felt like your heart couldn't take it any longer. You were sick of all the attention he gave to and received from other women. You felt angry tears prick your eyes.
You heard your name being shouted and glanced behind you to see Francis outside the shop you'd seen him in. He would have to wait for the lights to change again before he could catch up with you, so you turned and hurried away.
You heard the sound of screeching tires and quickly turned to look. Francis was darting across the busy downtown street, trying to dodge cars and buses as horns honked at him.
“Idiot, what are you doing?” you shouted. He's scared of being in an accident. You watched in amazement as he jumped out of the way of oncoming traffic and made it safely across the street to stand panting in front of you. “I can't believe you, Francis. You said you wouldn't be able to make it to London.”
“And I saw you with that woman. I wouldn't have thought even you would be as low as to hook up with someone else in my own city. How many other women do you see behind my back?”
“Quoi? You didn't see which store I was in?”
You voice sounded hysterical even to your ears. “I wasn't paying attention to what store you were in! I was more preoccupied with you ogling that woman's chest. Now answer my question.”
“I swear on my life that I 'ave never cheated on you!”
You felt tears begin to form. “Then tell me the number of women you have ever slept with. You always avoid that question and I feel like you're not being honest with me. I can handle it.” He sighed and his face reddened. He mumbled something that you couldn't discern. “What was that?”
“I said only you, mon amour. I...was...a virgin our first time.”
“Yeah right, that's impossible. What about the famous naked apron? You had to have used that on a lot of women or else it wouldn't be so famous.”
“Mon amour, what eez with all zese questions? I'm telling you ze truth.”
“I just want proof that I'm the only one you care about.” Tears spilled over your cheeks. He looked as if he was about to wrap you in his arms, but you took a step back. Your heart believed him, but your brain didn't.
He dropped his arms to his sides. “Ze apron eez only famous because I bought eet after we started dating, and I talked to Gil and Toni about it non-stop for ze first two weeks you and I were apart. Do you 'ave any more questions?”
“What about all the women who throw themselves at you?”
“Now you're just being silly, mon amour. What am I supposed to do about what ozzer women do?”
“Well you don't have to acknowledge their attention so much.”
“What do you want me to do – ruin my face or somesing so zey won't look at me? Eez zat what you want?”
“I give ozzer women some attention because I like to make people 'appy. Zat's just who I am. But I promise you I don't 'ave any feelings for zem. Only you.”
“Prove it.” By now a small crowd had gathered around your argument. “I need some stability in our relationship, Francis. Prove it to me now, or don't try coming to see me again.”
You waited for him to say or do something. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking hurt. Finally, he sighed. “Well, okay zen. I had a more romantic venue picked out, but eef you insist...” He pulled from his pocket a small black box and opened it before he lowered to one knee, presenting a beautiful ring to you. “Will you marry me, _____? We 'ave known each ozzer for over three years, et je suis tombé en amour avec toi. I feel like I've know you my whole life. We are perfect togezzer...we fit perfectly togezzer. My life 'as never, and could never be, ze same after I met you. I promise to spend ze rest of my life trying to make you 'appy. You are ze only one I love. I want to be only yours, and for you to be only mine. Ainsi, veux-tu m'épouser?”
It was all the proof you needed. You began sobbing and choked out a yes. Francis grinned and placed the engagement ring on your finger with a shaky hand. Then he pulled you into a tight hug, and the crowd around you began clapping and whistling.
He kissed you on the forehead then whispered in your ear, “I was not sure you would say yes. When you saw me in ze jewellry store and ran I sought eet was because you wouldn't want to marry me.”
“Don't be silly, Francis,” you said. “I love you, you fool.”
“I told you I couldn't come to London because I wanted zis to be a surprise. I 'ope you don't mind, but I have ze wedding rings already. Zey are part of a set with ze engagement rings. Zese ones I just bought 'ere in London, and ze ozzers I bought in Paris. Zat way, when we are married, we will have joined both our cities togezzer.”
“That's beautiful, Francis.” You faced him. “Is it true what you said? Our first time...”
“Eet eez all true. Eet was just a façade zat Gil, Toni, and I created when I was young, to make eet seem like I 'ad been with lots of women.”
You facepalmed. “Francis...a virgin. I can't believe it.”
“Oui, but you cured me of zat, didn't you?” He wriggled his eyebrows at you and you blushed profusely. It made way too much sense, now. The fact that he hadn't been with a woman on her period before. The way he had been so nervous your first time. “Now, come 'ere, amour.”
His hands cupped your face and then his lips covered yours in a tender kiss that brought tears to your eyes. The crowd clapped again and cheered. Then the kiss suddenly turned heated, and Francis backed you up against a nearby wall, running his hands up and down your body. The crowd silently and quickly dispersed.
“Francis...I love you,” you said between kisses. “I'm sorry I overreacted.”
“Je t'aime, aussi.”
“Don't you ever run across traffic like that again. Do you hear me?”
He gazed down at you lovingly. “Zen don't run away from me like zat ever again, or else I'll 'ave to.”
You pecked him on the lips. “I think you have some explaining to do with Arthur. He thought you were cheating on me this weekend, too.”
“Arthur knew of my intentions from ze start.”
He placed his hands on your cheeks and stared into your eyes. “I always planned on marrying you. I wanted to from ze beginning.”
You blushed and kissed him. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “What do you say we go back to my place and have another – power outage? No television, no lights, no phone...just me and you.”
“Honhonhon I like ze sound of zat.” He held your hand as you both left – the only hand he would hold for the rest of his life.
bonjour = hello/good morning
mon amour = my love
je suis desolé = I'm sorry
amour = love
give you a bell (British) = phone
quoi = what
et je suis tombé en amour avec toi = and I have fallen in love with you
ainsi = so
ainsi veux-tu m'epouser = (you can probably figure this one out)
façade = show/appearance/illusion
je t'aime aussi = I love you, too