A/N: Originally written for the Hetalia kink meme on LJ – Hope you like it!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia Axis powers, no matter how hard I wish I did sob
WARNING YAOI WARNING YAOI WARNING YAOI (BOYXBOY)
The minute the UN meeting was over; Francis rushed through the formalities and raced to his room. Shutting the door, he locked it, and looking round, just in case he had been followed, he made his way across the room to his desk. After several more paranoid glances (Alfred and Ivan said that the Cold War was over, but Francis had learnt from experience that you could never be too careful), Francis reached under the desk, and pulled out a secret drawer. Francis reached in and picked up the sheets of paper lying inside before slamming the drawer shut again. Settling himself down on one of chaise-lounges conveniently placed around the room, with a glass of red wine, Francis looked at the top sheet, listing the names of all 192 UN members.
"I've got to be careful," he muttered to himself. "Depressions spreading like wildfire again." Francis shuddered as he remembered the last depression he went through, the weeks of staying in bed, the cough that just would not go away, no matter how much lemon and honey he drank. Not to mention the general feeling of awfulness and the ruin of his godly looks. For weeks afterwards, Francis had been left with a red, dry nose a reminder of all the tissues he had tunnelled through. And even though every other country had had the exact same problem, it had still been a humiliating experience Francis wasn't keen to repeat. Especially after the effect it had had on his sex life.
"No," he decided, taking a leisurely sip of wine. "Definitely don't want to repeat that. So sorry, Arthur, Alfred" Francis reached over and plucked a pen from the nearby pen pot. "Avoiding you two like the plague." Francis drew a thick black line through Alfred's name, then after a short sigh, crossed through Arthur's. It was shame, when they were drunk, both Alfred and Arthur could give the most amazing blow jobs, but then Francis reminded himself as he looked through the remaining countries names, not even a blow job could make up for the horror of catching the depression.
"Hmm," Francis viewed the list with a cynical eye. "Ludwig's not doing too well either," a strike went through the 3rd name on the list, "which means I'd better stay clear of Felicano too, he and Ludwig are at it like rabbits…" Francis striked through Felicano's name and took another mouthful of wine as he remembered the scene he had walked in on last week. Francis grinned at the expressions on their faces when they both realised simultaneously that Francis had been watching them for the past quarter of an hour.
"Kiku's out too, he and Alfred have a close relationship hmm…" Francis struck Kiku's name from the list as he tried to remember who Arthur and Alfred were close to. "Well, Tino and Beywald are in trouble, not to mention Beywald would kill me if I as much as looked at Tino the wrong way, let alone tried to chat him up…" Strike, strike. Another two names gone. Francis continued through the list, striking names off as he worked out their chances of having the Depression. After half an hour and three glasses of wine, Francis was left with a handful of names and a warm fuzzy feeling, that he was sure would only grow as the evening went on. He gave his list another glance, then double-checked it, ensuring that he had crossed out the name of everyone who might have picked up the depression on their travels. Francis then put the list down before wondering over to the ensuite bathroom, checking his hair and teeth before stuffing a couple of condoms in his pocket. You could never be too careful. Francis was about to remove all evidence of his list (by stuffing it back in the secret drawer) when he heard someone call his name and knock on the door. Francis left the list on his chaise lounge and meandered over to the door to find Roderich on the other side. He stared at Francis in shock.
"I thought you'd be molesting some poor country down in the bar."
Francis grinned sheepishly. "Sorting out a few things…anyway with the depression going round, you have to be careful who you sleep with. Everyone's evasive about whether they've got it or not and physical symptoms don't kick in for a couple of months."
Roderich shrugged. "They want trade. We all do."
Francis hummed in response and walked towards the stairs with Roderich, completely forgetting that only had he left the door unlocked, but also that he had the list on the chaise lounge. Francis was so wrapped up in his conversation with Roderich that as he turned the corner, he didn't notice Arthur knocking on his door, and finding it unlocked, enter.
Later on, Francis was chatting up Ravis, (with little success) when he saw Matthew walk past. Ravis was one of the few ex-Soviet members who hadn't caught it, along with Toris. But then Feliks had it, and was so possessive over Toris, that Francis decided that it really wasn't worth a black eye only to find out that Toris had caught it from Toris earlier that week anyway. Of course, Ivan was profiting from the economic disaster (being the only country in the world that had mastered the skill of turning an economic disaster into an economic success but then Ivan wasn't completely sane), however Francis had information from reliable sources that Ivan's tastes in bed were…unusual at the best of times and down right terrifying at the worst. Francis liked his sex uninterfered with, so he'd have to be incredibly desperate to even think of going with Ivan. Matthew on the other hand…Francis had had a soft spot for Matthew ever since he had first taken the country under his wing all those years ago. Francis liked to think that even after Arthur had taken Matthew away from him and claimed him as a colony of England, that Matthew still preferred Francis to Arthur.
Talking of Arthur, Francis hadn't seen him for hours, ever since Francis had quite abruptly brushed off the Brit's advances over dinner. Normally Francis would have loved nothing more than to "do" Arthur, and then spend the next couple of meetings (or ten, twenty) rubbing it in the Brit's face. However, it was well known that Arthur had picked up the depression from Alfred, and Francis feared the recession more than he loved winding Arthur up. And mentioning Alfred, Francis was sure that he and Matthew were in a meeting tonight. Francis shrugged. Obviously it had finished early, Matthew wouldn't be here otherwise.
Francis mentally scanned his list of "safe" countries. Yep, Matthew's name was there. Francis grinned, seemed like he would be getting some tonight after all. Francis flashed a goodbye smile at Ravis (who looked gratefully that Francis was finally leaving without groping him) and made his way over to the bar. Francis leant on the bar and smirked at the barman.
"A glass of red wine and a Long Island Ice Tea."
Whilst the barman was mixing up Matthew's cocktail, Francis gazed around the bar, first checking that Matthew was still there and hadn't sneaked off inconspicuously as he was prone to doing. As he finished his scan of the bar, Francis spotted a half-full bottle of Vodka standing on the edge of the bar. Francis' smile grew as he observed the bottle. Never before had he been so glad that Ivan had a drinking problem (not that Ivan would ever admit it, or that Francis would ever point it out, he'd leave that to Alfred). Francis picked the bottle up, and as soon as the barman put the drinks down in front of him, emptied the contents to Matthew's Long Island, before mixing the drink again so th taste wasn't that obvious. It wasn't as if Francis hadn't spiked drinks before, after all how else was he meant to get Arthur into bed and he would warn Matthew that the drink had a bit of kick, so technically it was Matthew's fault if he drank it, non?
Before his conscience could pick this argument apart, Francis picked up the drinks and waltzed over to Matthew's table.
"Mind if I join you, mon cheri?" He asked, plonking the drinks down on the table and brushing a kiss across Matthew's cheek. Matthew blushed and shook his head. Francis sat down triumphantly. He was so getting laid tonight.
A few hours later, Francis kissed his bedfellow happily before drifting off to sleep. Arthur stood up, disentangling his limbs from the Frenchman's, replacing them with a pillow. He then started to get dressed methodically; removing a wig, coloured contact lenses and glasses at the same time (he'd borrowed the whole lot from Hungary, but hadn't asked why she had them, sometimes with Hungary you just didn't want to know). Arthur then made his way towards the door and his own room, turning round to pull a face at the sleeping Francis just before he opened the door.
"Take that you bloody frog. You gave me the depression last time."
A/N: Thanks for reading- all reviews and comments (good or bad) appreciated!!