Edited: 6/10/12

AN:

This was an RP between one of my friends, who I call Nanny as a nickname for her role-play account, and I. For your information, she wrote as Arthur, while I wrote as Francis. She's an amazing writer, so it's a lot easier to tell who is who, considering I can't write like her. xD

Warnings: Yaoi(meaning boy on boy action), language, suggestive themes, and sex.
If you dislike any of this or can't handle, please press the back button now. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Disclaimer: If I or Nanny owned Hetalia, we'd probably be rich and have many thankful fangirls. But we don't, meaning unfortunately we don't own Hetalia. All rights belong to the creator, Hidekaz Himaruya.

R&R and Enjoy~! :)

And it was all because of that whelp, Alfred.

How dare he? String him along for so long, only to laugh in his face come time to bite the bullet? The audacity! The horror! The Brit wanted little more than to get sick all over himself. Fucking Alfred. He loved him. Loved him with every fiber of his being, he did. And to have it all thrown back in his face? Rubbish. Absolute rubbish.

Well fuck him. Fuck him to hell. He didn't have to take this shit. Not from Alfred, not from anyone. Especially not from Alfred, that blithering twit. Well, now he knew what to do. It was the only thing that ever made him feel better; he was going drinking. Yes, drinking. Getting pissed was the only remedy for such heartbreak. It was a fitting end to such drivel; that tripe that only those who were stupid, called 'love'.

Love and lust. It was such a passionate, exotic feeling. It was absolutely beautiful, if you had it all and you were in ultimate bliss. Oh of course, Francis should know this. He was the country of l'amour after all. He definitely had experienced it firsthand before.

He knew how to woo a girl or guy, charm them into his bed and whisper sweet nothings into their ears. He knew exactly how to act, and be their dream guy. They would see him as the perfect guy - to which he was incredibly proud of. He could satisfy them without even trying, and they would easily bend to his will. But no matter how 'perfect' he seemed, both partners would walk down their own separate paths after they fulfilled that lust they seemed to had bottled up.

Francis could have had it all . He could have had both lust and 'love', no drama included. No need for any worry, and wouldn't have had to put too much effort either.

Not to say he didn't get the sex he was deprived of recently, but it was hard for him to. Not with the thought of a certain man lingering in his thoughts whenever he fucked. He felt as if he was betraying him whenever he took someone to his bed(or theirs). Thus he had stopped his escapades for awhile.

He could have fallen in love with that beautiful girl who was already smitten with him. Then they could have had a wonderful relationship, with an added bit of pleasurable sex. But non!

He fell in love with the stoic man, one of the hardest people to please, especially since the other seemed to hate him. He fell in love with someone who seemed so complex beyond words, yet was someone he was willing to solve the puzzle for, see past those facades, and dwelve deeper into the other's mind. He wanted to solve the mystery that made him so compelled to the other.

He fell in love with him:

Arthur Kirkland.

He wanted to know him, more than he already did so. Wanted the other to notice him, other than the flirty frog that could not keep his hands to himself. Wanted the other to see that he could be better than Alfred, one that actually loved him no less! Most of all, he just wanted Arthur to know he loved him with every fiber of his being.

But he couldn't.

And it was all because of that stupid American!