Francis sighed. "Arthur…"

"Mnmmnh," Arthur replied stubbornly, facedown on his dorm bed.

Francis tilted his head back and sighed again, placing his hands on his hips. "Arthur, you have to get up and come to the Christmas feast."

"Don' wonn'u," Arthur mumbled into the pillow.

"And why not?" Francis enquired, a raising eyebrow.

Arthur grumbled something unintelligible.

"Pardon moi?"

"Carry me," Arthur mumbled.

Francis give him an incredulous look. "…I'm not carrying you."

"Carry meee…" Arthur moaned, tugging his covers even closer.

Francis threw his hands up in utter exasperation. "For goodness' sake - you're acting like a child," he exclaimed.

"I am a child," Arthur answered stubbornly. Francis could hear the smirk in his muffled voice.

Unimpressed, Francis rolled his eyes. "We're sixteen, Arthur. I don't think you can use that excuse anymore."

Arthur rolled over onto his back, taking half of the sheets with him, partially revealing his sleep-mused clothing and a sliver of pale stomach. He tossed an arm across his eyes to hinder the sudden influx of morning light and grinned sleepily up at Francis. "Maybe you're right…"

Francis eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but then suddenly found himself yanked forwards. His hands instinctively shot out and barely caught him in time, ending up nose-to-nose on top of the other boy. The insufferable rosbif didn't even flinch.

Arthur calmly wrapped his arms around Francis's neck, tugging him closer still until both could feel the other's hot, damp breath on his lips. "Can't we just stay here all day?" He whispered sensually.

Unsurprisingly, Francis somewhat lost his train of thought at that point.

Perhaps it was for the better that at that moment, Gilbert, one their roommates, happened to comment. "Jeez, get a room, you two." He snickered at his own stupid joke while digging through his trunk, effectively ruining the mood.

After a moment of tense irritation, Arthur groaned and flopped back onto the pillow. "Gilbert," he whined.

"Sorry, Arty." Gilbert certainly didn't sound it. "Hey, Franny, are you coming up to the feast?"

"Ah, oui," he squirmed, attempting to disentangle himself from Arthur. "Just a moment."

"Right, right," Gilbert said with a dismissive wave of his hand over his shoulder. "Ah-ha!" He finally stood from his trunk, triumphantly baring aloft a handful of dungbombs. He whirled dramatically and strode towards the dormitory door. "See you in a 'moment'." He paused at the doorway to cackle at his ingenious insinuation.

"Would you leave, already?" Arthur exclaimed, glaring irritatedly.

Gilbert raised his hands above his head with a smirk. "I'm going, I'm going…"

"And for your information," Arthur continued to yell after him, "we have a room." The door slammed shut, leaving them alone. "You just happened to be in it…" he finished, mumbling.

After a moment of sudden silence, Francis sighed and spoke up. "Come on, Arthur." He got up off of his boyfriend, finding his feet on the ground once more. Arthur gave a manly pout, but extended his arms, waiting.

"Pull me up," he commanded more than a little childishly.

Francis rolled his eyes, but obliged and took hold of the other's hands, dragging him stumblingly to his feet. "Get dressed," he said, turning away to dig out some presents for various friends from his trunk beside his own bed.

"Wait for me?" Arthur asked hopefully, wrapping his arms around himself. No matter the season or weather, the underground Slytherin dormitories could always be guaranteed to be cold.

Francis sighed, but smiled. "Of course."


This is so dumb XD Oh well, I hope you like it Jessica! Especially after your amazing USUK gift for me. Merry Christmas all!