Francis and Arthur had been together for 110 years since the Entente Cordiale had been signed. The Frenchman tried every Christmas to put their differences aside for the holidays, but his efforts were always ruined because of Arthur's drinking problem. The Brit could never stay out of the Eggnog long enough to enjoy anything.
Francis had just finished decorating their home when Arthur came stumbling through the door, clearly drunk. The Frenchman sighed heavily because he knew it was going to be a long night. "Bonjour, mon cher~", Francis greeted his lover. He wanted to at least one peaceful Christmas with the one he loved.
Arthur scoffed and rolled his emerald eyes at the Frenchman's greeting. "Ello, frog. Merry bloody Christmas.", the drunk Brit stumbled over to the sofa and plopped down onto it. Francis looked over at the Englishman with a raised eyebrow, "Did you pick up the stuff I sent you to get from the store?"
Arthur glanced up at Francis and he held up a bag, which clearly had an alcoholic beverages in it. Francis was getting really tired of dealing with a drunk every Christmas. Francis grew very irritated and he glared at the Englishman. "I'm tired of this every Christmas. You always have to go and get wasted every holiday!", the French nation rarely ever raised his voice with Arthur.
The Brit rolled his eyes, "You always bloody have to run that mouth of yours. When has it ever helped you in your life?" Arthur opened another bottle of whiskey, downing it. Francis clenched his fists. He was getting tired of his sassy attitude and smart mouth. "I'm getting tired of fighting with you, Arthur.", he rubbed his temples lightly.
Arthur stood from the couch. "You're such a bloody tosser! A sodding pushover! Just like you were during the Hundred years war!", the Brit hollered at his French lover. Francis gasped at the other's words. He knew how sensitive he was when it came to that war. The French nation narrowed his icy blue eyes at Arthur.
"I'm tired of listening to your mouth. I'm done trying to please you!", he felt tears prick his blue eyes, but he refused to cry on front of the Brit when he was in this state. Arthur practically growled at the Frenchman. "Well fine then! Let me get out of your bloody hair!", the angry Brit marched over to the front door. He swung it open and exited the house, slamming the door on the way out.
Francis finally let the tears fall from his eyes. He sat down onto the couch and buried his face into his hands. The Frenchman practically sobbed into his hands. He hated fighting with his lover, but there was nothing he could do when Arthur was drinking. He hated to see him leave like that, but the Englishman just refused to listen to him no matter what he said.
The French nation sniffled, looking around the Christmas decorated room. All he wanted was a nice Christmas with Arthur. That was all he wanted. Why did it have to be such a struggle every year? Francis just sighed heavily before heading upstairs, collapsing onto the soft bed. He buried his face in Arthur's pillow. Francis inhaled the Brit's scent before falling into a deep slumber because he was so exhausted from crying.
Arthur walked around for awhile in the cold night air. The Brit knew he was being too harsh on his lover. He only wanted to have a good Christmas for once and he had to ruin it with his drinking. The English nation sighed heavily, running a hand through his blonde locks. He knew he had to make it up to Francis, so he began to make his way home.
Arthur finally reached his home after stopping by a florist and buying a dozen red roses. They were always Francis's favorite. He took a deep breath before walking in the front door. The Brit looked around for his French lover. Apparently he had headed to bed because he was nowhere to be found downstairs.
Arthur walked quietly up the stairs and entering the bedroom. He spotted Francis laying on his own pillow. The Brit smiled at the sight as he sauntered over to him. He ran a hand through the Frenchman's hair before he leaned down, placing a kiss on his forehead. Francis's eyes fluttered open, "A-Arthur?" The Frenchman's voice sounded so broken as he spoke.
Arthur felt a tug at his heart when he heard how sad his lover sounded. "It's me. love. I'm sorry for my behavior...", he frowned. The Brit handed his lover the roses with a slight blush on his face. "C-Can you please forgive me?", he said softly.
Francis smiled at the Brit, "Of course, mon petit lapin. I forgive you." The Frenchman sat up, opening his arms towards Arthur. The Englishman wrapped his arms tightly around his lover, hugging him tightly. Francis kissed the top of the Brit's head, "Je t'aime, mon amour..."
Arthur buried his face in the crook of the Frenchman's neck. "And I love you too...", he mumbled softly against his skin. Francis moved back so he could pull the Brit into a loving kiss. Arthur practically melted into the kiss. He felt all the love in that single kiss.
After a few minutes, they broke the kiss and just stared into each other's eyes. Icy blue met emerald green. "Merry Christmas, poppet.", the Brit finally broke the silence between the two. Francis simply smiled and placed a hand onto the other's cheek, "And Merry Christmas to you as well." It turned out that this Christmas wasn't such a bad one after all.