Francis and Beauregard

"Oh, you are welcome, mon cher." The blonde purred, brushing tender fingers through the brunette's hair.

Beau smiled that charming smile and leaned down to kiss Francis' lips again, content with just lying there with him.

"Mr. Bonnefoy? Mr. Dereneau?" a young stewardess asked as she stepped into the room. Her eyes widened as she saw them and she quickly looked away. "I beg your pardon!" she said quickly. "I hadn't realized you two were busy." Beau sat up straight on Francis and smiled at her.

"Can we help you?" he asked her.

"We are almost ready to land," the young woman said, keeping her head bowed and her eyes closed tightly.

"Mm, merci mademoiselle," Beau said softly and the woman nodded and quickly left again. Beau watched her go before he looked down at Francis and sighed. "Well, time for your jealousy to flare up again," he said to him, slowly getting off him and redressing himself.

Francis chuckled as he watched Beau quietly, a light smile dancing across his lips.

"Ah, but cher! It is so hard to not be jealous." He mused.

"Though perhaps you don't quite understand where such jealousy stems from. Nonetheless, I will try not to show it, oui?"

Beau looked over at him, tugging his shirt over his head. "Where does that jealous stem from? Explain it to me," he said to him, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it.

Reaching up and absently tightening the crimson ribbon in his hair, Francis zipped up his designer jeans with ease before beginning to button up his blue silk shirt as he smiled casually.

"Oh, cher, it is difficult for me to explain." He purred.

Beau looked over at him and paused. "Is it because you don't want anyone else photographing me?" he asked. "Is that why you get jealous?"

Francis shrugged and smiled.

"I suppose. No one could capture your beauty the way that I do."

"Is that the only reason?" Beau asked, stretching his arms above his head.

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Francis mused, checking his fingernails for dirt before glancing back towards Beau.

"I am still trying to figure everything out myself, cher."

Beau tilted his head slightly, blue gaze regarding the man with intrigue. He smiled deviously. "Aw, do you want to keep me all to yourself?" he asked him, going over to him and snaking his arms around Francis' waist as he lightly pressed against him, swaying with him. "Do you want me to be your pet?"

Francis chuckled and absently pressed a kiss to Beau's lips.

"Mm...and if I did, cher?" He purred seductively.

"What would you say to that?"

"Mm," Beau moaned softly. "I think I may just like the idea of that. Being your little pet. But then again, I am basically your little pet already; you fuck me whenever you want and I certainly do enjoy it," he breathed in reply, gently grinding his hips against Francis' hips.

Francis moaned faintly and leaned forwards to suck at Beauregard's neck, running his tongue down a particular spot.

"Mm, I'm pleased to hear that, cher. You certainly are quite good at pleasing me as well and you know that I am so incredibly hard to please."

Beau shuddered faintly as the man's tongue touched his skin at the spot that drove him wild and he moaned loudly. "Mm, well, I try," he breathed, looking up at Francis. He smiled. "We should get to our seats. Apparently we'll be landing soon."

"Mm...and you succeed as well." The man shrugged faintly, grinning almost smugly for whatever the reason.

"But you are right. I suppose we should buckle up?"

Beau smiled and captured Francis' lips in another heated kiss. "Mm, I'll make it up to you after the photo shoot," he whispered to him, still swaying his body against the man's. "For making you jealous."

Francis returned such an affection with a gentle eagerness, smirking faintly afterwards.

"I would hope so." He breathed softly.

"I will hold you to that, cher."

Beau grinned. "Mm, I'll make it extra special for you too," he whispered, grinding his hips still against Francis' hips. He kissed him again before stepping back and returning to his seat.

Francis breathed heavily and then smiled happily.

"Mm...I look forward to it, cher."

Beau grinned and sat down, crossing his legs as he buckled himself into the seat. He looked over at Francis and winked at him, picking up his magazine again.

And slowly, that faint pout fell back into place on Francis' lips. Sighing softly, all he could do was wait for the plane to land now.

The plane landed without a hitch and a car was already waiting for them on the runway to take them to their next destination. Beau rolled his eyes and sat down in the back of the car, looking over at Francis. "I cannot stand America," he said. "It even smells filthy."

"Agreed, cher." Francis replied, absently making a face.

"There is nothing beautiful about such a place."

Beau sighed and shook his head. "I cannot wait to get back home," he grumbled, peering out the window.

"Neither can I, cher. Alas, we must get through this intact before such a wondrous thing can take place." Francis murmured.