Author's note: To forewarn you I'm a bit of a perfectionist about accents so when France speaks there are no h's and the th's have become z's (though if I do miss some please don't have an aneurism about it). *bows* Please enjoy!
England sat at the small table outside of a very chic café arguing with his long time enemy, France. The frog had sent the Brit an invitation three days ago to come by and enjoy some delectable French cuisine and England, having nothing better to do decided to grace the pervert with his presence as long as they stayed in the public eye because he had little desire to have to try and fend off a horny France behind closed doors. As soon as they had gotten their drinks, though, the two were arguing about who was better after France had mentioned how England must be glad to be able to take a break from his awful British food and England, who could never take anything lying down, just had to lose his temper and defend his cooking. Now, though, they were half way through their meal and were not arguing, at the moment.
"You know Angelterre you seem to be visiting America quiet a lot now a-days."
England, who had been taking a sip of his lemonade, blushed at France's suggestive words. "So? The brat needs some help with some stuff."
"Would zat stuff 'appen to take place in a certain brash boy's bedroom? Maybe you are 'elping 'im with certain bodily problems?"
England's face went a deeper red and he began to cut furiously at his egg and cheese sandwich. "Why is it that everything that comes out of your mouth is dirty?" England grumbled.
"You wound me Angelterre, I only speak ze truth, ze romantic truth."
England rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Besides it isn't any of your business what I am helping America with."
France frowned at his reluctant ally. "I do not see why you 'ave to skate around zese things? I am perfectly fine in admitting zat I am 'aving sex with Canada."
England nearly choked and had to quickly wash down his bite of sandwich with a gulp of lemonade. Once he was able to breathe properly he looked at France with a glare. "We are in a public place France."
"And? My people are not as uptight about your own about ze matters of ze 'eart."
"How would you know? You rarely come to my place anymore. Not that I want you there or anything."
"If zey are anything like you zen zat's 'ow I know. Anyways do stop trying to veer ze conversation in a different direction. I don't see why you just can't admit zat you're 'aving sex with America. Even Germany 'as, in 'is own adorably awkward way, admitted that 'e is banging little Italy."
"You're sick," England stated coldly. "In fact I have lost my appetite, I am leaving." The bushy-eyebrowed man stood up, and France frowned, mimicking his guests' action.
`"Oh come now Angelterre zere is really no reason to be so uptight about zis." France left enough money for the bill plus some on the table and followed England away. "Being in love is nothing to be ashamed about."
"Love? You wouldn't know what it is."
France gasped. "'ow can you even say zat? I know more about love zen anyone else."
"Oh yeah, then why do you have sex with so many people?"
"I am searching for love Angelterre and besides I 'ave not 'ad sex with zat many."
"Yeah right, you've probably fucked every country," England spat.
France did not pretend to be wounded this time; he only got a pleased smirk on his lips. "Including you Angelterre." England paused, his face pale. "But not every country. I 'ave never 'ad Russia, or Germany, or Japan-"
"Oh shut it will you?" England snapped rubbing his temples. "You're stupid voice is giving me a headache."
"Would you like to go to my 'ome and I'll make you tea?"
"No thank you. I do not want to be alone with you."
France giggled. "Zat's so sweet, are you strictly with America only zen?"
"I never said I was with him."
"Please it is written all over your face, even your ridiculously bushy eyebrows 'ave ze look of being thoroughly fucked."
England blanched. "How do my eyebrows…" England trailed off not even wanting to begin to contemplate France's sense of logic. "I'm leaving. I don't know why I even agreed to come here anyways."
"Why do you keep avoiding zis?" France persisted following England as he walked off. ""ow do you think America feels being treated like a dirty secret?"
"I doubt he has even noticed," England said trying to desperately get away from the wine bastard.
"A-ha! You 'ave admitted!" France yelled with triumph.
"I have admitted nothing."
"But why not?"
"Why do you care?"
"It interests me. I like to know who my old flames are with."
England growled and stopped, turning to scowl at France. "There was never anything between us."
"You're right, not even ze sheets could come between us back zen."
"You're disgusting," England shot.
"And you're a prude," France countered. "What would it take for you to just admit zat you're with America? It's not good for you to keep zese things inside, it can cause unnecessary tension zat can get in ze way of sex."
England rolled his eyes. "You would know."
"Of course."
"I'm leaving."
France sighed, he would let England go, for now.
A/N: Please review :)