Francis hummed as he set about cooking for dinner. Not that you couldn't cook or anything, it's just that he was brilliant at it. And you loved watching his fingers.
They were so nimble, so elegant and effective against the grit in lettuces, the fat on meat, you could find so many reasons as to why watching him cook was so calming.
Sticking close to his side, your (e/c) eyes followed his hands that were stirring a pan filled with a roux. He quickly alternated between flour and milk, the sauce getting thicker and thicker as he did so.
He noticed your watching and chuckling he pulled you between his arms. Your arms came above his and he looked over your shoulder to continue cooking. "Better, no?" You nodded happily at his question, settling down against his chest.
He leant his head against yours, taking in the scent of your hair. Smiling, ne nuzzled your neck, distracted by you. Kissing down your neck and shoulder, he purred. You turned around and he pinned you against the stove, nipping at your lips roughly.
Smirking, you flipped the two of you around and pressed your hips against his. He growled at that but his hands travelled lower to grip your butt and give it a squeeze.
When you gasped, he managed to get his tongue in your mouth and rub it against yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, keeping his lips against yours. He sank to the floor, his legs around you.
Suddenly a burning smell filled the air and the two of you wrinkled your noses. Francis' eyes flew open and spun around, feeling his hair. The tips of his loose hair were smouldering and tears formed in his cerulean eyes.
You snorted at his expression and giggled. "It's not funny ma chérie! My hair!!!!" he cried, rubbing the ash out of it.
"It's alright, just the ends are burnt, it'll grow back." You said, soothing, kissing his cheek. He pouted and stared at you with puppy dog eyes. "You know, it is partly your fault, so now...." Francis pulled you on him, so you were straddling his hips.
He rested his head on yours and laid some of your hair on his. "If my hair does fall out, I'll have yours." He winked at you and puckered his lips invitingly. "Okay," you sighed, giggling at his duck-face, "but only because it's you."
He gazed lovingly into your eyes until you heard an ominous bubbling sound. Horrified he jumped to his feet and stared in distress at his roux.
Looked like there wasn't going to be dinner tonight, but then again you could always eat something French.....