"Absolutely not."
"Please Angleterre."
England huffed, angrily throwing down his needlepoint to glare at France.
"Just what part of 'no' don't you seem to get Frog?"
France bit his lip in worry. Of all things, he was certain he'd never beg England of all people for help, but, here he is. He considers leaving, after all, it's not like Arthur is the only one who could teach him. He could always ask Spain, Toni is bound to know how to teach him right?
But if he goes to him, Toni will definitely tell Prussia about his eh, lack of skill, and then he'll never hear the end of it. And he dare not ask America, lest he risk throwing out his back, or gaining some other painful injury.
No, Francis sighs, anyone else he goes to is bound to turn him into a laughingstock for the next decade. So, as much as it pains him to have to ask England for anything, he's the only one he can trust to teach him, because there's no way Arthur would admit to being an expert.
Dropping down onto the sofa next to the green eyed man, Francis pleads, "Come on Arthur, I really need your help."
Raising a bushy eyebrow at him, Arthur scoots back, putting as much distance between them as the three seater allows. "Why is it, every time I have a day off, you always turn up to ruin my day?"
It takes a lot of self restraint for Francis not to snap at Arthur for being his usual unhelpful self. Or to tease him that if he didn't what Francis to come visit, then why'd he never ask for the spare key to his house back. Arthur knows he has it, and it wasn't like it was hard to steal.
Instead, he forces himself to stay amicable.
"I don't always visit on your days off."
"No, you also feel the inexplicable need to bother me on your days off too."
Finally growing too annoyed, Francis snaps, "And why can't you just do this one nice thing for me?"
"Oh what sort of fool do you take me for?" England snaps back, glaring at Francis, "Do you honestly expect me to believe you, of all people, can't dance?"
"Please Angleterre, I'm begging you!" Francis cries, throwing himself onto the other man's chest, "Teach me how to square dance!"
Rather than answer him, Arthur twists around, swinging a leg up to kick France off of him, sending the man sprawling back over the arm of the other side of the couch. Why Francis expected any other reaction, even he's not sure.
He watch's as Arthur angrily stands, but before he can storm out of the room, Francis lunges at him again, tumbling off the couch to grab England's legs as he lies on the floor.
"Pleassssse!" He continues to beg, fighting to keep a hold on Arthur while the other attempts to break free.
"Let go frog!"
"No! Not until you agree to help me!"
"What even makes you think I know how to square dance?"
"I've seen you! Please, just teach meeeee!"
"Oh for the love of-" Arthur growls, halting in his attempt to kick Francis off of him, "If I agree to help you, will you leave me alone?"
Francis grinned happily up at him, putting on his best charm, "Oui, I promise I won't bug you anymore. Just as soon as you teach me."
Huffing in barely contained contempt, England gives in. "Fine. Now let go of me."
Smiling wide at his success, France jumps to his feet, dusting himself off before looking expectantly to Arthur.
"So, when do we begin?"
"Well not in here, obviously. We'll need to go somewhere with more space."
"Lead the way then."
Arthur sighs again, making this out to be such a hassle. Honestly, France wonders how this man enjoy's anything besides arguing all the time.
"Just why exactly do you want me to teach you? And why square dancing of all things?"
Francis blinks in surprise, "You haven't heard yet?"
"Hear what?" Arthur looks highly suspicious, and suddenly things start to make sense to Francis.
"Hasn't Amérique messaged you yet?"
Arthur frowns, looking around for his phone, "Probably. But it's my day off, and I refuse to spend it going through the mindless drivel he sends me every twenty minutes."
That… is actually something France can agree on. The strange humour of the younger nations these days is beyond him.
Finally England locates his phone, it having fallen off the coffee table during their scuffle, and starts to sift through all the messages from Alfred since yesterday. Francis comes over to help, raising an eyebrow at the number of 'memes' the boy seems to deem necessary to send.
"What is 'Big Mood'?"
"Don't ask." Arthur sighs that long suffering sigh of a man given up on trying to understand.
"Ah, this one!" Francis points, happy to find the right message, while Arthur frowns down at the one of dozens of annoying texts sent from the boy.
Dudes check this out! url
"I'm not clicking some random link from him." England huffs, moving to just delete the text, but Francis beats him to it, opening the link.
A second later and an annoyingly bright and flashy website fills the screen, proudly proclaiming Summer Dance Festival.
"See?" Francis asks, scrolling down the page to the invite list and those already signed up.
"What the?!" Arthur roared at seeing his own name listed, along with pretty much the rest of the world. "Why the hell-? Oh, when I get my hands on that boy!"
Francis temporarily ignored, England furiously dialled America and, much to France's amusement, noticed that Arthur has him on speed dial.
Deciding it's best to get out of England's immediate striking range, Francis heads for the kitchen. While he busies himself with making tea, the sound of angry shouting filters through to him.
"Alfred F. Jones, what the bloody hell do you think your playing at?!"
…
"Don't you 'hey dude me'!"
…
"…oh what ever gave you that idea?"
…
"…I sound upset do I?... No I'm furious! You-"
…
"Fun?! When have I ever-? …You didn't consult-… oh and I suppose you have everyone else's blessing for this?"
…
"That's what I thought."
…
"Good cause or not-! …Yes… No… Well now your just-… Argh! Fine!"
The volume slowly decreases, and Francis smiles in wonderment at how Alfred can so easily convince Arthur. Perhaps he should ask him sometime…
Tea made, France heads back into the living room to find Arthur resignedly slumped on his sofa once more, sighing into the phone.
"Fine, fine. I'll see you Sunday, but don't expect me to like it."
Once he hangs up, Francis smiles softly and sits beside him, offering the tea in Arthur's favourite mug to him.
It's times like this that Francis remembers just how well he knows Arthur. Without even thinking, he'd made Camomile tea just the way England likes it, knowing it's the blonds go-to for de-stressing.
He blinks out of his thoughts, sipping at his own drink, but still he can't help but see the thankful glance Arthur sends him as he sighs into his tea. Moments like this are some of the few times things can actually be genuinely peaceful between them, and Francis wonders at his strange longing for more moments like these…
He shakes himself out of such thoughts, setting his drink down and forcing himself to end the moment.
"So?" He asks.
"So?" Arthur parrots back.
"The festival? You agreed?"
"Well I can't very well back out now can I? What sort of nation would I be to not turn up for a charity event." He sighs, leaning back and holding his cup in his lap, "So this is why you want me to teach you square dancing?"
"Oui, it is the main event."
"Alright. Well, we don't have much time before Sunday, so you better be ready for a crash course." He sighs again, though this time he sounds much calmer, a good sign for Francis, "Damn that boy. Why on Earth did he pick Cumberland Squares as the main dance?"
France tries to hide his grin as he thinks to himself, probably because he knew picking one of your dances would make you more likely to turn up.
Suddenly sitting up, Arthur turns to Francis and frowns, "Alright now shoo."
"Eh?"
"Go on, get out. I now have to go arrange somethings, and I can't have you under foot all day, so get!"
"What am I to you, a cat?"
"No," Arthur smirks cheekily, "cat's are useful."
"Arthur?" Francis called quietly as he entered the lobby.
When Arthur said he'd find a place for them to practice, he didn't actually think he'd get a dance hall for them.
"Hello there, can I help you?" The receptionist asks at seeing him looking lost.
Switching on the charm, Francis smiles warmly as he walks over, "Oui, I am supposed to be meeting someone here today. Do you know if Arthur Kirkland is here yet?"
The woman blinks, them smiles back, "Oh, you must be the last one then. Mr. Kirkland is in Hall B with the others."
Francis nods, thanking her before wandering off to find England, while also wondering what she meant by 'the others'. He soon finds out however, when he enters hall B, finding Arthur along with six other humans milling about.
"Arthur?" He asks curiously as he walks in.
"Finally. Your late." Is the first thing England says to him, before calling out to the room, "Alright, places everyone."
Francis is starting to feel a bit out of his depth as like a switch being flipped, everyone moves at once. He watches as they form three pairs and stand like a square; two pairs facing each other one way, and the other facing Arthur the opposite way.
Impatiently, Arthur looks over at Francis, raising an eyebrow at him, "Well? Are you coming?"
Slowly, Francis makes his way over to Arthur's side, guessing that he's going to be paired with him, and Arthur quickly shoves him to stand on his right. Once at his side, Arthur turns to address the group.
"Everyone, this is the Frog I mentioned, Francis. Frog, this is the Two Sisters Dance Troupe. They kindly agreed to help your sorry arse out, so be grateful."
Despite Arthur's sour attitude, none of the dancers seem put off by it, in fact, a few of them seem more amused than anything. The first to introduce themselves is a short blond girl to Arthur's left.
"Hi! I'm Sindy and this here's my boyfriend Markus." She beams, hugging the taller teens arm. "That there's my big sis Clara and our cousin Jamie." She continues, pointing to the pair at Francis's right. "And the last two here are Yasmine and Sonya!" She ends, indicating the pair of young women across from Francis and Arthur.
"Bonjour." He nods to the group, relaxing more as he sees how easy going they all seem.
"Yes, yes," Arthur huffs moodily, "We don't have all day, so let's get started. Try to keep up Frog." He then glares pointedly, "And if you step on my toes, we're done, got it?"
"Oui." Francis winks, smiling when Sindy and Yasmine giggle at the act, making Arthur grow flustered.
"Good. We'll go through the step slowly first, then try the full thing with music later, got it?"
"Anything you say mon cher."
Arthur glares at the pet name, no doubt suspecting Francis is acting up for the groups amusement, but begins anyway.
"Well then, first thing you need to know for the Cumberland Squares Frog, is we have top couples; those who have their front or back to the music, and side couples; those who have their side to the music. So Markus and James are top pairs, we and Yasmine make up the side pairs. We're doing it this way so you can see the moves before trying them, and also because those two have a male/female paring, makes it easier to demonstrate with. Now this dance works in a sequence of Tops, then Sides copy, Tops repeat, then Sides again, get it?" Arthur explains.
"Oui, I think I follow so far."
"Good, then let's try the first part. Tops face each other in an elongated pose side on." Arthur orders and Francis watches as the two pairs turn, spreading their arms out wide and clasping hands. "Now the guys slide back to back for eight, then back again with the girls back to back. Go."
Just like that the pairs are off, side stepping toward the centre, Markus and James pass back to back just like Arthur said, all while the two ladies and Arthur clap to maintain a rhythm, with Arthur counting out the timing.
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and back, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and stop. Good, then when they return to home, we Side pairs do the same."
Francis blinks, jumping to face Arthur, surprised that the other man isn't putting up any protest at holding hands. But Francis becomes so distracted with this that he fails to keep up with the sudden movement, resulting in Arthur half dragging him for the first few steps before he forces himself to pay attention to his feet. With Arthur taking the lead, Francis Just has to follow along with his moves. It should be easy, but no matter how hard he tries to focus, the feeling of Arthur's hands in his and how close their bodies are is just too distracting.
The trip was inevitable.
Francis isn't exactly a bad dancer per-say, he's taken part in plenty of court dances in the past, but now it's like he has two left feet as he stumbles over himself and tumbles to the ground, almost bringing England down with him.
"For God's sake!" Arthur grumbles as he catches himself, cheeks oddly tinted pink, "Can't you at least try to have some semblance of coordination?"
"Sorry, Sorry!"
Quickly jumping to his feet, Francis rejoins hands with Arthur, and they restart the move.
Thankfully for both their dignities, Francis is at least able to focus long enough to follow the steps through without falling again.
"Right," Arthur huffs, stepping back slightly from Francis, "Next part is the right and left hand stars. Pretty simple, top couples step into the centre, raising their right hands first to touch at a point in the middle, and then do eight walks to the right, then back again with left hands to the left. Go."
Carefully Francis watches as the pairs move just like Arthur said, this time also clapping along to the beat.
"…2, 3, 4, 5, 6 And left hands, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and back to home. Then side couples."
Taking the cue, Francis moves in, raising his right hand up to join the star and walk the circle. This one, he's happy to do without trouble.
"Good, now the next part is the most difficult of the dance, so pay attention frog." Arthur glares pointedly at him again, before going on to explain, "This part is called the Basket or The Helicopter. First top couples move in to a tight circle in the middle, then the guys link hands behind the ladies waists, and the ladies hold on at the shoulders for grip. Next we do what's called a heel and toe polka. Place the right foot forward and put your weight on it, then do a cross step to the right. The point of this move is to spin fast enough to lift the ladies feet off the ground as you spin for eight. Then when you finish, guys make sure to keep a hold of your partner so no one goes flying. Now go."
Francis blinks, Arthur wasn't kidding when he said this part was complicated. The others make it look easy as they rotate, Markus and James easily lifting Sindy and Clara up, their feet swinging out behind them to Arthur's counting. They separate and return to base, making room for Francis and Arthur to join Yasmine and Sonya in the middle.
As Arthur clasps his hand with Yasmine at Francis's waist and Francis is forced to hold onto the blonds shoulder, he becomes hyper aware of just how close Arthur is. Heat rushes to his face of it's own accord, and dread fills him as he just knows he's going to mess this up. There's no way he can concentrate like this.
The deep frown remains on Arthur's face as he begins counting, and immediately Francis loses all sense of footing, tripping into Yasmine and breaking the circle apart, this time, actually pulling Arthur down too.
"God damn it Frog!" England roars, face red as he pushes Francis off of him.
"Why don't we take a break?" Sonya suggests before a fight can start.
Without a word Arthur storms out, leaving Francis bewildered on the floor.
As soon as he's gone though, Sindy grins wide and laughs, "Ha! Toooooold you~ Pay up Jamie!"
France watches in confusion as the lanky teen sighs, before going over to the bags in the corner and fishing out a £20 note to hand to his cousin.
"Don't worry about them." Clara smiles, offering Francis a hand up.
"They made a bet?"
"Yeah," she nods slowly, shifting from foot to foot.
"Am I really that bad?" Fran sighs.
"Oh no, it's not that! Well, I mean, your not great, but not terrible! Just…" She trails off, seeming unsure if she should really be talking about this.
"Just?" He presses, but Sindy jumps in before she can answer.
"So when's the wedding?"
"Sindy!" Clara cries in shock, slapping a hand over her sisters mouth.
"Oh don't be so prude." Sonya huffs, rolling her eyes at the pair. "It's plain as day for anyone to see," she turns to look up at Francis, "You like Mr. Kirkland right? He sure likes you."
"Eh?" Francis balks, shocked at the suggestion.
"Don't play dumb! You like him~" Sindy sings from behind her sisters hand.
"Non, Non, you've got it all wrong! We're just…" Francis tries to explain, but finds himself unsure what to say.
Just what is England to him? A friend? Enemy? Occasional drunken night fling, forgotten by the morning? He's always tried to avoid labelling their relationship, it's just too complicated for him to think about. And he always thought he and Arthur had an unspoken agreement never to discuss, well, them. But how does he go explaining that to a bunch of young humans?
"Here," Yasmine suddenly says, bringing Francis out of his spiralling thoughts, "Let's do a test. Pair with me, Sonya, you go with James. Let's run through the Basket again."
Francis thinks he knows what they're up to, and the logical part of him is screaming at him not to do it. You don't want to know the answer, it'll only make things more complicated than they already are! But, he's always been a man to be ruled by his heart over his head, and his hearts telling him to go along with them.
It's just like his head was warning him, he does the move perfectly, no distraction to be found.
Yasmine beams, voicing what Francis has dread being true, "You like Mr. Kirkland. That's why you've been messing up."
"And he likes you~" Sindy pipes up again.
This is suddenly all too much for Francis to reconcile with. After centuries of skirting around each other and denying his feelings, to have a group of kids telling him the truth he's tried so hard to avoid…
He needs air.
As he rushes out, an old, long forgotten memory flutters back to him.
The sea breeze ruffled Francis's hair as he held his mothers hand, following her to the small settlement ahead. There, they met up with a woman with hair like fire, and the fiercest green eyes he'd ever seen, carrying a bundle of cloth nestled in her arms. She'd be scary, if it weren't for the warm smile she shared with his mother.
"Gaul," the woman sighs tiredly, "you came."
"Anything for you Britannia dear." His mother smiles.
The woman, Britannia, then turned to him, and smiled, "Francis, there's someone I want you to meet."
Her eyes were soft as she kneeled down, holding out the cloth bundle to him. And in it he saw a sleeping baby, an infant no more than a few days old, but instinctively Francis could tell he was just like them. And when those bright green eyes opened at him for the first time, Francis instantly fell in love.
And he's been in love ever since…
As he bursts out the lobby, Francis halts on the steps to the street, coming face to face with those very same eyes. He takes a deep breath and steps forward.
Moment of truth…
Author's notes: Just some pure FrUk this time. Ah but I do like cliffhangers… I would had done more, but this was getting a bit long so had to cut it here if I was going to get it out on time. And a sneak peak at my headcanon on how these old men first met many moons ago.
R & R people.
Until next time, stay awesome!