Arthur's apartment has never been quiet. Sure, there are times of the day that are quieter than others, but there is never truly a moment of silence. That has been even more true since he started dating the insufferable Frenchman, who just would not leave him be at his job unless he agreed to one silly date. And well, that was months ago.

The hour spent reading on the sofa after work, the din of traffic from the street below filling the small living space, has since mingled with the sounds of dinner cooking on the stove, and fleeting melodies being hummed as a pot is stirred. What hushed conversation he use to have with his cat has now often turned to heated debates with his lover. But the most notable change in ambient noise is at night, when it ought to be the quietest time of all.

After eight hours in a record shop, and plenty more getting home and engaging in conversation with his other half, the moments between falling into bed and falling into sleep should be just the kind of quiet Arthur needs. And it is, now, after months of forming a new routine. But their first few nights together were anything but restful, even after messing up the sheets.

Because Francis is the first person he's ever let into his life in this way. Of course he had been on a few dates, even thought of some of them very fondly, but never had he the courage to let one in like he had with this one. Yes, something about Francis was, is different. He can make Arthur's blood boil like no one else. And yet, there he was, sleeping next to Arthur in his ratty old apartment. The cars driving by at odd hours does not phase the Brit, the rain that always seems to pound across the old building is nothing, even the drunken neighbors and their random episodes have never kept him up at night. But another person breathing softly beside him? It felt impossible to fall asleep.

"Mon Cher," Francis said, on the next day after waking, "You look absolutely terrible!"

"And a bloody good morning to you too…" Arthur mumbled back. Francis was probably right though, he could feel the bags that had no doubt formed under his eyes.

"Do you feel ill? Drink too much? My my mon lapin, you hold your alcohol worse than I had imagined."

"I'm not sick you wanker, I'm just-" He paused. This could quickly get awkward, and as tired as he felt, Arthur wasn't ready to mess this thing they had going up. Not yet.

"Just what?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just how I look in the morning. I'm going to go make breakfast, alright?"

"Breakfast in bed? I must be one luckiest man in all of this wretched country of yours." Francis smiled as he watched the other crawl out of bed and pad to the kitchen. And he continued to smile, until he heard the smoke alarm go off.

/OOO/

Looking back at it now, Arthur wonders how he survived those first few weeks, how either of them survived. Arthur had no idea how to be in a relationship, coupled with sleepless nights and long days. This often led to short tempers and pointless shouting, which he hated, so so much. He might not have been ready to call it quits, but when he lay awake in bed, listening to Francis sleep and reflecting back on the person he was becoming, he wondered why he was still next to him at all. He never knew falling in love would be so hard.

It would be three weeks after first becoming 'serious' that Francis would address the situation. Nothing good can really come out of a conversation that starts with your significant other saying 'I think we need to talk.' Truth be told, Arthur was surprised it hadn't come sooner.

"You aren't sleeping mon cher, I am worried about you."

Arthur stared back, confused. That's not how he pictured this going.

"What?"

"You aren't sleeping, and it is making it wholly impossible to live with you."

Ah yes, there it is.

Arthur sighed, this was it. Of course this was it. He never had a fighting chance.

"I know, I know, it's terrible, I'm sorry. You're not the easiest person to be around all the time either, but I get where you're coming from. I haven't been sleeping and then there's work and well you know I...It's….we made a good run at it right? No harm done?"

Francis's eyes widened, taken aback. "Made a good run...Arthur, are you suggesting we break up?"

"What? No. I mean, isn't that what you were suggesting?"

"Of course not!"

"Oh. Heh…"

Francis smiled, the kind of smile that made Arthur feel like a silly child. The kind worth slapping off his French face. Or Kiss it off, either way.

"Arthur, I like being around you, and I like to think you like my company as well, but as much as I'd like it to be nothing but roses, relationships take work. They are hard, but that's what makes them worth it. Don't throw in the towel just yet."

"You just said I'm impossible to live with you twit, do you not want to be with me or do you?"

"There you go again hearing but not listening. You are making it impossible. Why? What keeps you from sleeping?"

"It's nothing."

"If it was nothing we wouldn't be having this argument."

"Who's arguing?!"

"Arthur…" Francis sighed. "Just talk to me."

For a moment all was quiet, too quiet, more quiet than Arthur thought it could get in his apartment. Perhaps, something had to give.

"...I'm not used to you yet. I mean like….You breath in your sleep."

"Well I'd hope so."

"Shut it. Do you want me to talk to you about it or not?"

"I do, I do, go on."

It's hard, but he does go on. Goes on to explain how alien it is, the sound of another person sleeping by his side. How alone he had always been and how ok he was with that until Francis had walked into his life and just wouldn't take no for an answer. How unsure he was of everything. What if it all went to shit like he thought it was? What if it didn't? What if it worked out?

"What if I always have anxiety about it Francis?"

"Then I will always be there to comfort you, mon cher. I promise."

"That's a big, ridiculous promise you git."

"It is, and you are ridiculous for not saying something sooner."

"Oh and what is talking about it suppose to do? You're still going to breath at night."

"Well I'd hope so."

"Francis I swear…"

But the Frenchman just smiles, and explains that all things come in time. How getting things off your chest is more help than one expects, and that sex can cure any bad day. He might receive a smack to that back of the head for that last one, but it draws out some much needed laughter.

Perhaps, Arthur thinks, I can do this.

/OOO/

"I hate to say it but you were right."

It's their one year anniversary.

"Hm? What was that? Could you say that again but louder? And on video?"

"Oh stuff it you git."

"Which life changing thing am I right about this time? The painting I got from the market, that you so detest? The French tea, that you pretend to hate?"

"The sleeping Francis. I haven't felt so rested since I was a baby."

"Due in no small part to me tiring you out." The Frenchman has the audacity to wink.

"Pervert. Can you not let me pay you one damn compliment?"

"Oh no, do continue." He smiles, and Arthur can't help but smile too.

"I don't think I will, no need to over inflate that ego of yours any more than it is."

"Hey!"

Arthur laughed. Then yawned. It was almost noon on a sunday.

"Look, we could argue or we could nap. Your pick."

"Decisions, decisions…"

"Come on lover boy, you know I can't fall asleep without you."

/OOO/

I'm back! And yeah, that wasn't my best work...But I just wanted to write something to try and get back into the swing of it. Let me know what you think of it!