A/N: Of course, me being me, I threw in my other Hetalia OTP into the story without a second thought. :P
"Je jure devant Dieu ce est dégoûtant!"
"Pardon?" Arthur blinked, looking up from his papers in bewilderment at the unnaturally infuriated Frenchman glowering beside him.
"Just look at those two!" Francis hissed, waving a hand at the other end of the table with far less flare than normal.
Unperturbed, the shorter of the two allowed his eyes to trail across the conference room, spying a rather resigned looking Germany dutifully ignoring a far too clingy Italy, who had attached to his arm like a limpet, grip not relaxing in the slightest even as the larger man sighed heavily.
Raising one overly fuzzy eyebrow, Arthur turned back to Francis with a shrug. "So, what about them? They always do that. And you never seem to have a problem clinging on to me when we're-"
"It's not the hugging that's the problem, mon ami, it's the fact that they're do damn clueless!" growled Francis, leaning back in his chair and pinching his nose in utter frustration.
Arthur, starting to see what exactly his lover was getting at, hummed quietly. "You never did like seeing young love go to waste," he said, barely resisting the urge to smirk at Francis as he groaned.
"It makes me physically ill, the way they carry on like that when they don't see what's right in front of them! Comment peut-on être aussi stupide?!"
"If I recall, it took more than a few centuries for you to confess to me, and many more for me to finally reciprocate. These things take time, you git. I thought you knew that?" Arthur calmly stated, allowing his attention to slip slightly as memories of those wasted years fighting returned to the surface of his mind. Compared to the two of them, Germany and Italy were moving at a far faster rate.
Francis seemed to deflate, all of the anger seeming to disappear as he slumped over dramatically in defeat. "I do know that, but it gets so frustrating… seeing them together but knowing they don't see it for what it truly is… il est tellement ridicule… on pourrait penser qu'ils pouvaient le voir…"
Arthur sympathetically patted the older man's shoulder, not even bothering to look up from his work. "They'll figure it out."
Across the room, Italy darted up to give Germany a kiss on the cheek, happily "Ve~!"ing as he pulled away. "Doitsu, can we get pasta later?"
Germany, who had refocused on his own work until that moment, didn't even react to the contact of lips on skin. "Ja, just let me finish this report."
At the opposite end of the table, a loud wham! sounded as France's head hit the table, England's badly concealed snickers accompanying the action.
A/N:No matter how much France loves love and romance and happiness, he's probably the biggest shipper aside from Hungary. You can't tell me he wouldn't get pissed if his OTP couldn't figure themselves out. XD
French translations (used google translate, probably not accurate):
Je jure devant Dieu ce est dégoûtant! = I swear to God it's disgusting!
Comment peut-on être aussi stupide?! = How can you be so stupid?!
il est tellement ridicule… on pourrait penser qu'ils pouvaient le voir… = It is so ridiculous… you would think they could see…
