Hi guys long time no writing. I feel bad about that but my muse is a fickle bitch and she seems to be spurning my need to finish all of my Ouran Stories so instead I thought I would let you all know that I'm still alive and kicking by posting this. Please note that this is my first time writing a yaoi pairing so if you aren't into this sort of thing don't read this story. But when I saw this show the fanfiction just seemed to call out to me. Note that the characters may seem a wee bit out of character but I believe that's the beauty of writing fanfiction, taking the presentation of a character and interpreting them in your own way.
I got a review earlier and I would just like to say as a warning that there are going to be moments of France/UK. Also there are going to be some moments of sexual content between the two, however ultimately the pairings in this story will turn out to be USUK and Franada. If you are extremely against FrUK in any form I suggest you don't read this story because the tension FrUK creates is an important part of the plot.
Also I apologize in advance for anything that is wrong. If there is something wrong with either spellings or information please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it.
Neway I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers
"You used to be so great"
Arthur Kirkland stared morosely into his lukewarm cup of tea. Even now the words that America had spoken that day plagued his mind. Even after centuries the observation stung just as much as it had the moment Alf…no America had spoken them. Arthur supposed that in a way America was right. The British Empire began to slowly wear down until Arthur's territory was once again confined to the United Kingdom, and even those borders had been sketchy during World War II. Arthur absentmindedly rubbed the area over his heart. The scaring was slowly fading but Arthur knew that there would always be a physical reminder of the dark days of the Blitzkrieg. A phantom pain throbbed in his chest and Arthur winced slightly and pressed down in an attempt to ease the pain. The kicker he mused was that America had effectively replaced him after WWII as a world superpower with his invention of the atomic bomb. After the fateful event that damaged Kiku to an extent no one thought he could get over, America's words taunted him pilling abuse on his already damaged heart by saying
"Look at how I've replaced you; you'll never be as great as you once were, Great Britain, well not anymore anyway."
Arthur sighed heavily and moved his gaze from his now undrinkable tea and to the dreary streets of London. Normally Arthur loved to look out from the window of his flat and see the bustling life of his capital, but today the overcast skies and the steady drizzle of rain washed out the color from his beloved city and made the entire view lifeless. Dull and worn out. Like me Arthur couldn't help but observe. The grandfather clock chimed and he looked to find that it was already 10 in the morning. Arthur shot to his feet. Bloody Hell, the World Meeting starts in half an hour and I'm still in my sodding house coat and slippers. Arthur raced for his room to prepare for the meeting but on his way in the door he couldn't help but wonder, but would it really matter if I was late. It's not like it is essential for me to be present.
In the conference room where the world meeting was being held, chatter amongst the countries filled the room. Germany sat in his chair rubbing at his temples as the chaos of sound bombarded his eardrums. France sat near him complaining quite loudly to…well nobody really, the seat beside him was empty. Germany rolled his eyes. The French were always a pathetic lot anyway. Germany felt his irritation grow as the Frenchman made a wild hand gesture and raised his volume. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a small body collided with his back. Germany grunted as he was pitched forward in his chair from the velocity of the small man's hug.
"Ve, ve~, Germany when are we going to start the meeting. I want pasta and you said we couldn't go get some until the meeting was over" The tiny Italian whined. Germany sighed and turned his head to look at his overly excited friend.
"We cannot start until everyone is here," Germany patiently explained. His words barely put a crack in Northern Italy's sunny expression.
"But I'm a hungry," Italy said. Germany's eyebrow twitched with annoyance, then he noticed that Italy's arms were still wrapped around him and he felt himself start to blush. He turned his head quickly to hide it from the other nation.
"Too bad," Germany grunted.
"Oi potato bastard get your filthy paws off mi fratello!" The other half of Italy shouted at Germany from across the table. Germany wanted very badly to tell the older Italian twin that in no way did he instigate the contact between him and the younger twin, but he knew that it wouldn't be worth the barrage of every Italian curse word in the dictionary, the southern Italy would throw his way. Mein Gott! England had better get here soon! Germany thought angrily.
"And ze manners of ze British are so rude. In France we would never behave in such a way. He ez late and not in a fashionable way no?" Francis ranted to the empty seat beside him which actually held Canada. Canada squirmed in his chair and blushed slightly. He didn't want to badmouth his other former guardian with his original one. But Francis was the only country who recognized him on a consistent basis, and never confused him with his brother. Matthew stared at the Frenchman admiring his perfect hair and dazzling blue eyes. "Mathieu! Mathieu, are you listening to me?" Francis asked angrily. Matthew was snapped out of his gazing and blushed heavily.
"O-oui, I am listening. M-maybe A-Arthur just got held up-p by something, eh." Matthew stuttered. Francis shot him a disbelieving look.
"Non!" he exclaimed, "L'Angletere ez just making us wait for iz own amusement." Francis threw his hands up in the air and huffed angrily. "He ez probably just ung over from drinking too much last night!" Matthew sighed. Ahhhh, there the truth comes out. Francis is just worried about Arthur. After all Arthur is never late to meetings. Canada wished for a moment that Francis could show some of the same concern he showed for England for him. Matthew had been in love with Francis for a very long time, but he knew the Frenchman would never feel the same. After all he was a nobody here, and the flashy country would never settle for someone who wasn't as incredible as he was. Matthew looked sadly at the table as Francis continued to rant about England. Nope, no chance at all he thought dejectedly.
Then the doors to the meeting room slammed open and a very flustered looking Brit stumbled into the room. The room went silent and England's face turned red.
"Ah look who decided to grace us with zeir presence." Francis said mockingly.
"Shut up Frog!" Arthur shouted his face flaming brighter. Francis chortled at Arthur's expense. He rose gracefully to his feet and pulled a flailing Britain into an embrace.
"Oh mon ami, your words wound me so," Francis said dramatically. Arthur growled at his best friend…or worst enemy…it really depended on the day.
"Get off me Francis, you bloody pervert!" Arthur shouted swiping at the Frenchman with his fist. Francis easily dodged and chuckled.
"Ah L'Angletere I am a lover not a fighter, and as the country of love it ez my duty to share it with the world," Francis said.
"Well then share it with someone who wants it you great poncey git!" Arthur yelled and quickly moved out of the Frenchman's grasp.
"Dude, what took you so long? Aren't you Brits supposed to be like freakin anal about being on time and shit like that?" America's loud and obnoxious voice called from the chair beside the only empty seat. Arthur reluctantly made his way over to the chair.
"Shut up you wanker!" Arthur hissed at America.
"Whatever dude, you're just jealous over my awesome hero status," America boasted. Alfred waited for the Brit to snap at him and continue the fight just like they always but the retort never came. He looked down at the Brit who had his face tilted down and his mop of hair casted over his eyes. "Hey are you okay, man?"
"Sod off, America," Britain said turning and glaring up at the American. Alfred noticed that the glare didn't hold near as much fire as it normally did. Well that's weird Alfred thought but turned away and left the British man alone. Arthur's glare melted into a look of what one could only call a look of desperation. The look on the Englishman's face knocked the breath from Matthew's lungs. It was a look he saw on his own face every day. The look that screamed, notice me, and pleaded for someone to make him worth something. Matthew glanced to his side at Francis and sighed softly. If only it were as easy as putting an expression on one's face. Canada should know, after all he had been wearing the same expression as Arthur for his entire life.