Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia…..*cries* but then again, if I did it would be a failure so….anyway! Valentines' Day! FrUK style! (I am aware it is 3 months early but I personally don't give a damn!)
Enjoy…..
~Valentines' Day~
It's that day again.
The one day that England loathed more than any other. He hated Christmas, Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving (America insisted England celebrated it with him) and every other event that his country and others insisted on spending unnecessary amounts of money on every single year. But there was one that he hated above all others - Valentines' Day.
In the Brit's opinion, the whole thing was 'a bloody waste of time', just giving people the excuse to get all mushy and brag about the one they love, spending a fortune on flowers and chocolates and hotel rooms for the night….generally making lonely people's lives miserable.
The nation sighed and closed his book. He also hated this particular day, because that bloody frog decided to show up and disrupt his daily routine with 'Happy Valentines, mon cher', or 'I bought you some special flowers to express my love for you', or - and this was the one he hated the most - 'So, what did you get me, mon amour?'
Honestly, now the frog expected him to waste his money on worthless plants and confectionary to 'express his feelings'?! England scoffed inwardly at the thought, but reluctantly grabbed his coat and strode out of his house, bracing himself for the red heart banners and cheesy slogans that would appear in every shop window. He hated going out on this day, but if he didn't get something for France, the frog would expect him to 'make it up to him', which caused Britain to shudder at the thought.
He caught sight of a small flower shop sandwiched between two larger and better looked-after establishments of some sort. This would do. It looked cheap enough, and it seemed to be emptier than any other shop covered in pink, red and other 'lovey-dovey' colours. Besides, England didn't want France to think he'd made an effort for him.
A little bell sounded as he entered the shop, causing the young girl at the counter to turn and smile warmly at him. England mentally rolled his eyes and turned to examine some of the flowers. Tulips, carnations, a small section of artificial flowers which the Brit found slightly amusing, and displayed in the window and at the end of every aisle, were the typical roses. Vaguely hearing the little bell ring again, he raised his huge eyebrows at the price of a simple bunch of roses. After a ten minute debate consisting of various entertaining facial expressions and incoherent mutterings – it must have looked very strange to a random observer – Britain grabbed a bunch of roses and started making his way to the counter, but stopped short when he heard the familiar flirtatious French accent, followed by that irritatingly unique laugh.
England ducked behind a display of tulips before France could spot him, and scowled. Great, why does he of all people have to be here?! He clenched his fists as he heard the frog flirting shamelessly with the girl at the counter, and gritted his teeth at the giggles the girl responded with.
"I'll take some of these roses if you please, mon cher," France flashed her a winning smile and the girl blushed. He said something more quietly, so England couldn't quite hear it, but it made the girl giggle. England made a face in disgust, only able to imagine what the wanker said to her.
"Can I get you anything else, Sir?" She asked, sounding innocent but England noticed the hinting and didn't need to see the wink she probably gave the bloody frog.
France laughed again, replying with a "Non merci, but thank you for the offer, mon cher," which pissed the Brit off immensely. He threw the roses on the ground and stormed out of the shop angrily. The Frenchman turned.
"Angleterre?" He called, before running out of the shop after him, leaving a confused young woman, and some money on the counter as he left.
The Brit slammed his front door angrily as he kicked a random shoe he had left there earlier. That bloody frog! Why the fuck must he flirt with other people?! England frowned. "Wait, why do I even care?" He asked aloud.
….No….No No No! "Oh bloody hell! NO!" England yelled, slamming yet another door behind him as he made his way to old, shapeless, brown sofa. "I do not have….feelings for that bloody wanker!" He declared to the world, flopping down angrily on the sofa.
"Is that so?" Came an all too familiar voice from behind him. Arthur spun around in surprise – surprise turning into anger when he saw the damned Frenchman standing there.
"W-What the bloody hell! How the fuck did you get into my house, you wanker?!" England demanded, looking ready to kill something.
"Ahonhonhon, you Englishmen always keep your spare keys under the 'welcome' mat, do you not?" France replied simply, grinning at the fuming Brit.
Damn it! He forgot the frog knew that!
"Well…why are you here? It's rude to come into people's homes uninvited, you know. Or do you Frenchmen have no manners?" Arthur crossed his arms, although somewhere deep down, however much he would deny it, he didn't really mind France being in his house as much as he said.
"Well," The other man began, his French accent almost welcome in the hostile English room, although again, England would never admit that.
"First, I came to find out why you were eavesdropping on my conversations, mon cher." He smirked at England's blush, but as he was about to protest, France continued. "But now," He said slowly, almost annoyingly so, "I'm more interested in what you said as I arrived, mon amour."
Arthur blushed again. "W-well I…I just…you have no right to be here! Get out before I phone the police!" The Englishman cried, unable to properly look the other man in the eye.
"The police? Mon dieu! Perhaps I should leave!" Francis mocked dramatically, raising a hand to his forehead and exaggerating a gasp.
This only angered the Englishman further, and he growled. "France, I'm warning you. Get out of my house, or I'll – " France cut him short.
"Or you'll what, mon Angleterre?" He asked innocently. But before Arthur could answer, France grasped his thin, English wrists and held his arms above his head, pinning him against the wall.
"F-France?! What the - !" His words were silenced as France's lips were pressed against his own. England blushed insanely, trying to get free, and he probably would've succeeded if he'd really wanted to, because France had loosened his grip. However, England stayed where he was, and found himself kissing the other man back passionately. He allowed France entrance, their tongues battling for domination, although it seemed this was the only battle France was going to win against him. After what seemed like a life-time, France pulled back and studied Britain's face, waiting for a response. Arthur stared back at him, before furrowing his large brows.
"Well?" He said, which puzzled France.
"Well, what, Angleterre?" Francis asked, not sure what the Englishman was thinking.
England sighed, feigning disappointment. "Do I have to do everything myself?" He asked France in an annoyed tone, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss. France smiled and deepened the kiss gladly, before seeming to remember something, and pulling back once again. England huffed, earning a quiet laugh from France.
"Desole, I just remembered something." He went out of the room, returning a few moments later with a bouquet of roses. The same roses the Frenchman had been buying earlier. Arthur mentally cursed when he realised he still didn't buy France any flowers in return. Francis handed the bouquet of roses to Britain with a grand gesture of formality, before placing a quick kiss to Arthur's lips. England smiled a little – a rarity for him – before apologising.
"I…didn't get you anything, Francis…" The Englishman looked down, before he felt a hand under his chin, gently willing his eyes to look into France's.
"Well then, you'll just have to give me something else, won't you, mon petit lapin?" And before Britain could object – not that he was going to anyway – the Frenchman pulled him into another kiss. Arthur fought back a small moan as France won the tongue battle. When they eventually needed air, Francis pulled away slightly, and whispered in Arthur's ear. "Happy Valentines' Day, mon amour."
England smiled once again, "Happy Valentines' Day to you too…." He replied, giving France a quick kiss on the cheek, before adding "Frog."
Some people are just too stubborn, it seems…
Mon cher - my dear
Mon amour - my love
Angleterre - England
Mon Dieu - My God
Desole - Sorry
A/N: 3 months early! WOOT! But I really wanted to upload this now…..so I did! Lol Happy extremely late/quite early Valentines' Day to you all! Hehe :P (btw first FrUK ff so please review and be gentle! :D)