#istafen

[amertsi]

Like Magic

Arthur is a wizard. Francis wants them to both dress up as wizards for a costume contest. Arthur hates this idea. The wizard part is less important than you'd expect.

My Secret Spectres fic for @istafen as part of the event run by @hetaliawritersdiscord!

This turned into more of a glance into a much bigger world than I meant for it to, so though this was meant as a stand alone gift fic, I might expand on this world anyway. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, it was fun to write and different form what I normally write. Sorry it's so late though.

Read on AO3

Arthur’s expression was a mix of frustrated and utterly confused, a look Francis had seen multiple times. In fact, it might as well be a part of his daily life, with how often Arthur gives him that look. But even as he was stared at as if he’d grown an extra head, Francis only continued to grin.

“Oh, cher, don’t be such a stick in the mud! Your costume is perfect!”

The look on Arthur’s face fell even more, and something like the groan of a dying animal escaped him. “Francis. For the millionth time. This isn’t. A costume. It’s a uniform. I don’t just dress like this for fun, it’s for--”

“Yes, yes, your little magic club. But Arthur, it’s perfect! If I wear my costume and you wear yours, we’re bound to place first--”

“It’s not a-- good lord, really, Francis?”

They’d had this conversation more times than either of them could keep track of by this point. Ever since they’d received the invitation to Alfred’s annual costume party, Francis had insisted that the two of them go dressed as wizards, much to Arthur’s dismay. He’d tried explaining to Francis on numerous occasions that he was just “dressing up,” he was a member of the High Wizard Society, and it was very important he not tarnish their name! But no amount of explaining would stop Francis from just smiling and laughing that stupidly sexy laugh of his as he patted Arthur on the shoulder and told him to have fun at his Wizard Club. Arthur loved him, really, he did, but good lord, sometimes Francis was actually just a complete idiot.

As he ran his hands over his face from the mental exhaustion of it all, Arthur just barely caught the end of Francis’s rambling. “--nd you’ll have fun, trust me.” He wished he hadn’t bothered tuning in at all.

“No, Francis,” Arthur sighed, exasperated, “I won’t have fun. I’ll ruin my reputation as a well respected mage and then I’ll be kicked from the organization and it will be your fault.” When he looked at Francis, the man was still giving him puppy eyes, so he groaned and rolled his gaze away. “It’s not a good idea! Lukas, back me up here--”

Lukas meanwhile, their ever apathetic roommate, had been sitting on the couch just feet away from them the entire time, watching with an uninterested stare. He was silent a moment before giving Francis a thumbs up. “Sounds great. You should do it.”

“Lukas--!”

Francis was making a poor attempt to hide his giggling behind his hand. Lukas had the audacity to smile. Arthur was going to kill them both with his own hands.

After a long, long pause, in which Arthur thought up at least five different ways he would personally end the lives of his roommates, he finally gave in with a long, winded sigh. “Okay. Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “We’ll go to the blasted party. But I’m doing this only once, you hear me? Come next year I don’t want to hear a word from you!” Francis, clearly ecstatic by this declaration, beamed and clasped his hands together.

“Oh, wonderful! I knew you’d come around~” Francis embraced the still grumbling Arthur and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you so much, right?”

“Yeah, whatever, shut the fuck up and let’s get ready.”

Getting ready took longer than Arthur would have liked, and it was entirely NOT his fault. When Francis had procured his own costume, he’d been horrified to see that the idiot had purchased a cheap wizard costume from one of those tacky Halloween stores. Needless to say, there’d been much arguing over whether or not Francis would be allowed to be seen in public in such a hideous garment. In the end, Arthur managed to at least convince him to leave the terrible pointed hat behind.

Alfred’s house was only a few walks away, and while Arthur had wanted to drive to avoid being seen on the streets in their getup, Francis had insisted they walk and enjoy the fresh air. And, since he couldn’t actually say no to him ever, Arthur had begrudgingly agreed.

Even with how annoyed he was (pretending to be) with the situation, Arthur and Francis still walked hand in hand down sidewalk. Fallen leaves, brown from the chill of the air, crinkled and crunched beneath the soles of their shoes, creating a quiet melody to fill in the silence. Arthur hated to admit it, since he was still (pretending to be) mad, but the warmth of Francis’s hand against his was comforting. Without thinking, he squeezed his hand and felt Francis squeeze back. Glancing over at him revealed a small smile.

With a huff, Arthur finally broke the silence. “What are you so happy about?”

Francis blinked, then laughed. “Oh, nothing. It’s just a lovely day.” He paused, smirking. “Not as lovely as you though~”

“Oh, shut up,” Arthur chided with a roll of his eyes, lighting bumping into Francis with his shoulder. “You’re just trying to get on my good side.”

“And if I am? What will you do then?” Francis hummed, leaning closer into Arthur, who only grumbled and tried to push him away, lest he see the beginnings of a smile that threatened to curve his lips.

“Don’t test me.”

Francis only laughed. Before Arthur could snap a comeback at him, though, they’d arrived, and he quickly became distracted in his attempt to straighten out his cloak. But Francis smacked his hand away and offered an annoying but somehow still reassuring smile. “You look fine, dear. Come, let’s go in.”

With all their earlier fussing, it seemed they were a bit late. Familiar faces had already gathered in all corners of the house, and Alfred, as energetic as ever, greeted them enthusiastically.

“Hey! Took you guys long enough to get here. Nice costumes! Shoulda known you’d be a wizard, Artie, you always did like that occulty shit.” Arthur was about to correct him, but couldn’t get a word in before Alfred continued. “But hey, you’re just in time, we’re gonna have the contest soon! Kiku’s helping me judge this year, and you know how high his costume standards are! Anyway, I’ll go put your guys’s names on the list, be in the back in like, ten minutes!” And with that, he ran off.

Once he’d left, Arthur sighed, already exhausted. He resisted the urge to sigh again when he felt Francis’s chin rest on his shoulder, warm breath tickling his ear.

“Don’t be so sour, cher, it will be just fine. We’ll just go up, pose, win first place, then be done. How does that sound, hm?”

“It sounds bloody terrible, that’s what.” Arthur wriggled his way out of Francis’s grip. Just when had his arms snaked around him, anyway? “Now get off me. You’ll wrinkle my cloak.”

There was that laugh again. That irresistibly attractive laugh. Francis was really making it hard to be mad about all this, especially when he acted so understanding and let go of Arthur, backing up a step. “Of course, I’ll be most careful. We ought to go get ready for the contest, then, lest you ruin your outfit more.”

It was hard to argue against that, so Arthur simply sighed once more and agreed, and together they went to the backyard.

The costume contest turned out to be nowhere near as simple as Francis had assured it would be. Kiku had his camera, because of course he did, and demanded at least ten photos of each contestant or group that went up, claiming he needed various shots in order to judge fairly. Arthur, personally, hated this, and struggled to come up with more than two poses when it was his and Francis’s turn. Francis, meanwhile, seemed to thrive in the limelight, and for the most part, lead him through it.

As they stepped off the makeshift stage Alfred had set up, Arthur grumbled, shifting his cloak on his shoulders. “That was terrible, dammit, I’m not some sort of model, you know, we’re going to place dead last--”

“Oh, hush, you were fine,” Francis soothed, flicking blond strands from out of his face. “I thought it was quite fun.”

“Well that’s just wonderful. We’ll see what you’re saying when we lose the entire thing.” Plopping himself unceremoniously upon a bench, Arthur snagged a cookie from a nearby table and munched on it angrily.

Dammit, why was it so tasty.

When Francis sat beside him, Arthur looked away, trying his hardest to be mad even when Francis leaned over slightly to peer at him. He expected him to say something, but instead, a silence hung between them for several moments first before the other finally spoke.

“...What’s on your mind, hm? I know you’re usually grumpy about these sort of things, but you’ve been rather adamantly in a bad mood today.”

Arthur scoffed. “Of course I’m in a bad mood. I told you from the beginning this was a bad idea. You know already that these clothes, they’re not... it’s just who I am, it’s not some Halloween costume. But now I’ve made a fool of myself and my art in front of all these people.” He groaned, leaning back against the bench. “It’s not as if anyone has ever taken magic seriously to begin with, I suppose.”

Another silence fell between them, and this time, it was Francis who sighed. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I shouldn’t have pushed you to dress up with me.” He laughed softly. “Perhaps it was silly of me. I thought that, if we did this together, I’d be able to show how much I love your passion for magic, even if I don’t understand it, but I seem to have only made you think the opposite. For that, I apologize.”

A pause, then Arthur huffed, stealing a sideways glance at Francis before staring off towards the stage once more. “...You could have said that sooner, idiot.”

Francis laughed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“...Maybe. I’m still mad. You’re taking full responsibility when we lose.”

“Of course, this was my idea, after all.” With a soft smile, Francis nodded to the stage. “But still, don’t count us out so soon. Look, Alfred is about to announce the winners.”

Just as Francis had said, Alfred was stepping onto stage, loudspeaker in hand. Arthur cringed. He’d have a headache for sure. Wishing to maintain some of his sanity, he did his best to tune out the third place winner, rolling his eyes as Francis applauded.

“Why are you clapping? We’re definitely not winning now. That’s not even a costume, that’s just how Roderich dresses every day.”

“Oh, hush, you don’t know that.”

“I do though--”

The sound of Alfred’s voice over the speaker cut off the rest of Arthur’s words. “Okay, thanks, Roddi! And now, our second place winners! Give it up for... Arthur and Francis, the two magical wizards!”

Arthur blinked. Beside him, he could practically feel Francis beaming. Oh, he was never going to live this down, was he? Still surprised, he allowed Francis to pull him back to the stage, standing awkwardly as the other man waved to the crowd before leading him back off again. When they sat back down, Francis was still grinning.

“See, what did I tell you? We were not going to lose! And everyone loves your magic theme, no one thinks you are silly or lesser for it.”

Once he’d shaken himself out of his stupor, Arthur glanced at Francis, taking in that grin of his. He really was too sweet. “...You said we’d win first place. Last I checked, second isn’t first.”

Francis only laughed. “Did I say that?”

“Yes, you did!” Arthur huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t! What are you going to do about this, huh? Where’s my gold medal? And furthermore--”

For the umpteenth time that evening, Arthur’s words were cut off, but this time by Francis’s lips upon his. It only lasted a moment, as Francis soon pulled away, a soft chuckle on his breath. “How about this, then, hm? I’ll make it up to you by getting us first place next year. Is that alright?”

Arthur was definitely not pouting. It was just that expression of his, the mixture of frustrated and confused. He was most certainly not flushing slightly, or feeling as if he was perhaps luckier than he thought. “Absolutely not. This is the last time I’m doing something like this. Make it up to me some other way.”

“Oh, I can most certainly think of other ways~”

Now Arthur really was flushed. With a grumbled, he pulled Francis in for another kiss, one that actually lasted. His hands clenched the fabric of Francis’s stupid, ugly costume even as he pulled away, glaring up at him. “...Shut up.”

Francis’s laugh was just as irritating and stupidly sexy as always.

“For you, happily.”

[ifindus]

What does your username mean?? Is it if-indus or I-find-us or a Norwegian or Latin word??? :0

It is i-findus 😊 or just Findus for short.

It doesn’t really mean anything. In the earlier stages of this blog I used the name «istafen», which was a kind of a weird translation of my real surname with the first letter of my first name at the beginning (the i). After a while I wanted to change it and decided to abbreviate my “online name” I had used since middle school (to findus), and I kept the i