Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. This story is not representative of the countries or any historical events.
Warning: Two guys in a relationship.
The rain pattered against the window panes and the howling of the wind heralded the first big storm of winter. It was nearing the end of November and Christmas would be here before you knew it. Francis smiled and glanced down at his sleeping mate. England was sprawled haphazardly across the bed, taking up all of his side as well as Francis's. Gentle snores punctuated the staccato beat of the rain and the hiss of the heater. France chuckled before turning his thoughts back inward.
Fall had been beautiful with its bright colors and brisk air, perfect for strolls around the neighborhood. Now that the boys were older, they could go for longer walks without needing to be picked up, although Alfred still whined and cajoled his fathers into piggybacking him for several blocks. Arthur always scolded the boy, calling him "a lazy little git" and saying, "You were born with two feet for a reason, young man." But Francis knew better, and somehow their afternoon strolls always culminated into frenzied piggyback races: Arthur carrying Alfred and Francis jostling a red-cheeked Matthew.
Francis looked out the fogged up windows. Afternoon strolls weren't going to be possible anymore until spring, when the first flower buds poked their shy faces to the world. By then, Alfred and Matthew would need to be enrolled in the local preschool. Mon dieu, where did the time go? It seemed yesterday that Arthur and Francis had brought their little baby boys home from the orphanage. It had been a hard, uphill battle to gain custody for them, but every morning when Francis dressed the boys and combed their hair, he thanked whatever higher-being that happened to be listening for bringing these two kids into their lives.
The sound of an exasperated snort brought his attention back down to Arthur. Arthur grumbled in his sleep and flipped over onto his back, kicking Francis in the process. Francis clutched his side and glared at his supine lover. Ah yes, the reason why he was awake at 2 a.m. listening to the dulcet sounds of the storm came rushing back. As much as he loved the man, being kicked off the bed and having the covers stolen were a bit much. So Francis braced himself against the mattress, counted to three, and promptly shoved Arthur off the bed.
Arthur hit the floor with a satisfying thump, followed by a litany of swear words that would put a sailor to shame. When he finally disentangled himself from the blankets and saw the person who was responsible for his rude wake-up call, he yelled, "What the bloody hell was that for, you stinking frog?!"
Francis traced the patterns on their bed sheets. "Just returning the favor," he said in a casual tone.
"What 'returning'?! Have you gone daft? I didn't kick you off the bed!"
"You did, and I have this beautiful bruise to show it," Francis pointed at his elbow, where a colorful bruise was starting to show. Francis sniffled sadly for effect.
Arthur deflated for a second, then recovered and started to sputter angrily, "well, I'm sorry if I did, but you needn't have kicked me off the bed, you wanker."
Crawling across the bed on his hands and knees, Francis went over to where Arthur was still kneeling on the floor. He tilted Arthur's chin and said, "I'm not angry about the kicking-off-the-bed anymore, mon petit." Francis kissed Arthur lightly on his lips. "But you should know that when I kick you off the bed, it will only be so I can fuck you into the floor."
Arthur snorted and pulled Francis onto the rug by his lapels, "oh yeah? Prove it."
Interesting story: The inspiration for this story came from my friend, Aoi_Aka, who sent me a card saying, "The only reason I would kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor." So that's where Francis's smooth line comes from. ^^ This story is dedicated to my perverted mistress.
Here's the card: .com/usercards/viewcard/