Summary: England sported a black eye at the World Summit meeting. When asked about it, he would cover it up by saying it was his brothers' fault. It wasn't because of his brothers, but he did win something out of it by a certain Frenchman who just had to look so lovely beside him. M for mature content and themes. Yaoi/Slash - male on male. FrUk. Human names used. Oneshot.
Title: Shiner
Author: fantasyAge
Pairing: FrUk
Rating: M
Warning: Yaoi/slash. MxM.
Setting: World Summit meeting.
Type Of Story: Oneshot.
Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.
England sported a black eye at the World Summit meeting.
When asked about its origins, he would get flustered and mumble about having a fight with one of his brothers, and of course his win.
"You two are brot'ers, England-san. You need to get past your differ'nces." Japan would lecture whenever he passed said nation.
Arthur sat down at the conference table in a deep sigh. Hopefully no one else will ask, he thought as he adjusted his suit and darted his eyes around the room.
"Mon lapin. Vous avez l'air tendu." Arthur jumped at the sudden voice beside his ear.
"Oh shut it, you bloody Frog." He spat as he adjusted his posture to a more leisurely position. The Frenchman hid his smirk as he took England's lead and also stretched out his limbs.
"You should be more careful when 'eet comes to ... bro'zerly love."
"You know very well it wasn't brotherly love that brought this bloody ... mark upon my face. Had you only been gentler." England irritatedly huffed out as loud as he dared at the quickly filling room. He crossed him arms to show just how offended he was by France's ignorance.
"You weren't complaining 'zen." The Frenchman feigned being insulted.
"Well had I known," Arthur quipped back as he fixed his position to face the speaker of the meeting, a flush rising up his back; his face quickly starting to resemble that of a sunburn victim. Francis chuckled low in his throat as he shuffled his seat closer and laid his hand on the Englishman's armrest.
"'Ad you known." A smile was heard in his voice as he purred out Arthur's sentiments. A quick glance at France showed his eyes were half-lidded but sparked with an unsaid desire. Arthur turned his head quickly before he was caught in the sea of blue, and tried very quickly to immerse himself in whatever the situation the current country was speaking of. Did the conference even start?
The meeting progressed slowly, as they were barely half-way through- but the Englishman wasn't listening as he stared into the space above ...is that Germany or Sweden...'s head. Whomever is bloody talking, the wanker, don't they know I don't want to be here? The Brit bit his lip nervously as he remembered some previous night's activities and the cause of his black eye. An action that didn't go unnoticed by Francis. England's hand clenched his armrest and his eyes glazed over with the memory.
The day had been quite stressful. His boss unloaded a mountain of paperwork on his shoulders, but what made today different was that it was due before he left for the day. Not to mention America called him and went off on some movie he just recently watched, and thought that the villain looked almost like him as he was British, but don'tworrybecausehewouldneverhurt Arthur ... again and by the way he having a party who should he invite... was he still on the line?
So this was where he found himself. Outside France's door, hoping for the love of God to get some sort of loving or else he was going to explode. He sharply rapt on the door.
"Bonjour, mon Cher." France opened the door with a playfully quirked eyebrow.
"Move git." England pressed as he forced his way through the blond's doorway.
"Stressed?" France enquired as he shut the door with a soft tap.
"You couldn't even begin to imagine." England said as he walked over to France's liquor cabinet and opened a bottle of brandy.
"Mm. I bet I could ... try." France traced small circles on Arthur's back, causing shivers to erupt with every delicate swirl. Arthur drained his glass before pouring another. "Maybe you should slow down." Francis offered, concerned about his lover's state of mind. "'Eet won't be any fun 'eef you're drunk."
"Don't admonish me. I know very well when I've had enough." A slight slur greeted Arthur's lips as he turned around to scowl at Francis. The Frenchman just chuckled low in his throat as he lent down so Arthur and him would be at eye level. Their lips almost touched. Their breath mingled into one as Francis grabbed the cup from Arthur's grasp and walked away. An unattractive sound released from the shorter nation. "Fucking tease." Francis once again chuckled.
In an attempt to show his annoyance, England flopped on the couch and started to loosen his tie. Not paying attention, France poured himself a glass of wine.
"So what brings you across 'zeh channel?" Francis asked as he perched himself on the arm of the couch.
"UGH! Where do I begin?" Arthur started as he crashed his head on a pillow, letting his arm cover his eyes.
"Hm. 'Zeh beginning 'eez uzually good." Francis teased as he set down his glass.
"Very clever." Arthur criticized with as much sarcasm possible.
"I zought so." Francis smiled as he began twirling Arthur's hair.
"Mm." Arthur groaned. "It's Alfred. He continues to be a constant thorn in my side! All the ridiculous ideas! It's amazing! Honestly, that he's a super power of the world." Arthur looked out from under his arm. "...Why me?" Francis' eyes softened.
"Je ne sais pas." Francis leaned down. "Embrasse-moi." Arthur complied as they tangled tongues.
"Mmm." Arthur moaned as he wrapped his arms around Francis' neck, dragging him down on the couch.
Tiny shocks of electricity coursed throughout Arthur as Francis licked down his neck, stopping every so often to play with his collarbone. England moaned, small puffs escaping his lips as hands roamed his chest, pausing now and then to tweak at his rosy nipples.
"I want to 'ear you." France purred into Arthur's ear. England didn't want to give Francis the satisfaction. He jammed his tongue into France's mouth with has much force as possible. He felt the smirk on the elder's lips. They played this game all too often.
"Let's move this to someplace more comfortable." Arthur panted out as they detached their mouths, a thin string of saliva connecting them. With lust-clouded eyes Francis nodded as he was pulled to his bedroom.
A shirt, tie, blazer and hair elastic was lost as they ascended the stairs to their christened "love-nest".
"Fuck yes," Arthur breathed out as he was pushed up against the wall, right outside Francis' room.
"You must be really stressed 'eef you're allowing me to top." The Frenchman offered as he palmed at Arthur's clothed erection.
"Hn," Arthur choked out as he bit his lip from letting any sounds out. He wouldn't give the damned Frenchy any satisfaction that he was actually enjoying this.
"I'll take 'zis as a yes." Francis smirked as he slowly slid to the floor, reaching out to free the strained appendage from it's prison. Arthur gasped as cold air struck his throbbing member.
"God, yes Francis." Francis lightly traced Arthur's inner thigh before he took the Englishman in his mouth entirely.
"Mmm. Mph." France tried mumbling, but only caused Arthur to throw his head back as vibrations went straight to his balls. France hiked Arthur's leg over his shoulder as he took off Arthur's shoes, socks and one of his pant legs. Before France could let down the now naked leg from his shoulder, he felt a hand clench and unclench in his hair.
"Francis, we... we shouldn't. We really- oh God! Yes! That's it! Ughn." Arthur's lust-crazed rant was cut short as France fondled England's sac. His voice hitched and all coherency left his mind.
"Mon amour." France breathed into England's thigh. Arthur moaned low in his throat before it turned more feral and irritated. Before Francis knew it, strong arms picked him up off the floor and he was thrown into his room. He stumbled as he tried to make heads and tails of what had just happened. "Oomph!" Francis let out as he was tackled onto his bed. Hands were suddenly searching him. And apparently for his cock as Arthur roughly palmed at Francis' front, trying to unbutton the Frenchman's pants and suck on random spots of his belly. "A-Art'ur," France begged as he threw his head to the side. "S-slow down."
"No," Arthur snapped as he lifted his head and ripped open Francis' pants. "I'm through with the foreplay." Arthur fished inside Francis' front and pulled out his throbbing erection. Francis sucked in a deep breath as Arthur pumped his shaft sloppily. When Arthur deemed his work to be sufficient, he turned and pulled off his shirt and half-on pants. "Gn!" Arthur gasped out as surprisingly cold hands embraced him from behind.
"Moan for me." Francis whispered as he nuzzled Arthur's back, his stubble scratching slightly. Arthur complied as he felt that the Frenchman was not clothed behind him. Francis grabbed the pants from Arthur's hand and dropped them on the floor. Without any delay, France roughly shoved him into the mattress. The squeaks of the over-used springs cried out at the sudden movement. Like a cat with new-found prey, Francis was on him in an instant, the bed moving the couple up and down as it tried getting to a lower state of energy. Francis left a trail of kisses down Arthur's body until he nestled himself into his crotch once again. He took the organ into his mouth, he could still taste the stickiness of his saliva. He swirled his tongue around the tip, making sure to lap up any fluids that decided to leak out before taking Arthur's manhood to the back of his throat. The organ twitched violently in his mouth as it vibrated in excitement. Arthur arched off the mattress as he felt a familiar feeling start to tingle throughout his body.
"Oh God Francis!" He breathed out in a near whisper as he curled and uncurled his toes, and rubbed France's sides with his restless legs. Sensing that Arthur was close, Francis unlatched his mouth.
"People jus' refer to me as François, but God will be a nice change. For right now, flip over and get on your 'ands and knees," France commanded. Whining slightly, Arthur did as he was told. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a packet from the bedside table and threw it at the Frenchman. It proved to be lube. Francis squeezed the contents on his fingers as Arthur wobbly got up on his hands and knees, waiting. Francis slathered some on his attending member and spread it over his fingers. He didn't bother to warm up the lube before he plunged a digit knuckle deep within Arthur.
"Nah! What do you think you're doing wanker! Not only is it bloody cold, you just stuck in your finger!" Gasped out as he clenched his fist. Francis added a second finger roughly to prove a point. Arthur took in a sharp breath as he put a hand on the headboard, hoping to prevent himself from toppling.
"Oh hon hon~ Art'ur, your be'ind is loose enough wit'out all 'zis préparation. You slut." Francis kissed the small of Arthur's back before starting to curl his fingers within the nation, causing a wanton moan to escape from England's lips, obliterating any obscene comment he was about to throw back. Sensing an opportunity, France reached under the quickly unravelling nation's body. He started to pump as he added another finger and thoroughly stretched his hole. Deeming it wide enough, France quickly replaced his slick fingers with his lubed up cock and slipped into the hot entrance. Arthur threw back his head at the feeling of being filled.
"Move," was the only command Arthur could let out as his senses were in overdrive. Francis complied, quickly working up to a steady pace.
The sound of skin slapping skin could be heard throughout the room as Francis moved faster, searching for the sweet bundle of nerves he knew the Brit possessed. Arthur let out a strangled cry as Francis hit it head on. Francis moaned deeply as Arthur's walls contracted around his girth. Desperate for the sound of Arthur's voice, he repeatedly hit it. Arthur attempted to hold himself up as his vision started to go white. He put both hands on the headboard, but soon clutched it as the onslaught of pounding took its toll on his over-excitable body.
Francis reached back under the Brit knowing he was almost ready. He pumped to match the pace. In a single second Arthur let out a cry of ecstasy as his vision went completely white. He arched his back, arms locked and stretched to as far as they would go. Seeing Arthur's licentious frame Francis let out a loud groan as he quickly let his essence fly into Arthur's lithe body. Unable to hold himself up any longer, England let his arms droop. On his way to the pillow, Arthur's face smashed off the headboard that he had to desperately cling to a few moments earlier. Francis, still in pure bliss, did not hear anything except the white noise of post-coital rapture he was currently in. Arthur felt a dull throbbing in his left eye growing but decided to ignore it for the time being as his wave of euphoric delight took more precedence. He let it wash over him as Francis pulled out and flopped them both on their side.
"Thanks." England said as he yawned.
"De rien." France returned as he grabbed the blankets and spooned next to his lover. A few moments passed before Arthur looked behind him to Francis.
"Francis?" He timidly asked into dusk light.
"Ouais?" France sleepily asked through lust-lidded eyes.
"I love you." He quickly whispered out.
"Moi aussi. Je t'aime." Francis said as he leaned over and kissed Arthur. Through the light that was quickly disappearing behind the horizon, Francis thought he saw Arthur's eye looking a bit puffier than normal. C'est rien. Blaming his vision on lack of sleep and utter exhaustion, Francis yawned and tucked his head into the crook of the Englishman's neck.
The very next day, when the sun greeted the early dew, Arthur got up and donned his discarded clothes. Making sure that France's were folded into a neat pile by the stairs, England tip-toed down and out of the home altogether.
Once home, Arthur walked into his bathroom, stripped and overall ignored everything until after his shower. However, when he stepped out and defogged the mirror, he was greeted with a horrid sight. A nasty, large, black and blue bruise situated itself on his left eye. His eye was almost half closed and looked very painful. In anger he roughly dried himself and put on his clothes, all the while cursing the day he fell in love with the stupid Frog Bastard. It also didn't help that when he had gone down to his kitchen to prepare himself a nice cup of calming tea, America was sitting there with his God-awful McDonald's breakfast and talking animatedly to his northern brother, Canada. He had forgotten that they were to go to Japan's house today to talk about trading agreements. Oh bugger.
England unclenched his fingers from his armrest, as time and place shook his thoughts away. He will not think about it. He will not think about that night...
Despite the flush that had completely covered his upper body, the glazed look and tent that decided to grace his pants, nobody noticed Arthur. Except one flamboyant man. I'm going to kill that Frog if it's the last thing I do, England thought as he clenched his fists tightly, making his hands turn white.
"Und zat vill conclude zeh first half of our meeting. After an hour and half for lunch, ve vill return for zeh rest." Germany stood up, collected his notes and walked out whilst the other nations copied. Some nations shook their heads (as if that would clear their almost double vision) and yawned before leaving, others just stretched and walked out.
"Sooo," A lecherous voice came from England's left. He had to turn his entire head to see France's body leaned towards him. His head was perched upon his knuckles which was propped up on his crossed legs. Looking absolutely delicious. A slight smirk ghosted over his lips, as his eyes rekindled with the spark from earlier. "judging from your... situation" France lazily gestured with his hand to Britain's crotch. "... you're in a bit of need, non?"
"W-wot?" Arthur dumbly replied, as he tried grasping what nonsense the Frenchman was spewing.
"I was only suggesting 'zat we 'ave an 'our and a 'alf, why don't we go to a nearby bazroom and 'ave... mmm, what do you call 'eet? A... shag? I'm sure we can make 'eet in 'ze time limite." France smiled innocently, though an aura of mischievousness surrounded his person.
"..."
Francis decided that that was his cue and grabbed Arthur by the elbow as he lead him to, as his promised, the nearest bathroom.
Translations:
Mon lapin. Vous avez l'air tendu - My rabbit. You seem tense/You have tense air
Bonjour, mon Cher - Hello, my dear
Je ne sais pas - I don't know (Legit. That's what it means)
Embrasse-moi - Kiss me
Préparation – Preparation
De rien - [You're] Welcome/ It's nothing
Ouais - Yeah
Moi aussi. Je t'aime - Me too/also. I love you.
Situation - Situation (just read it in a French accent)
Limite - Limit
Please tell me if there are any French inaccuracies... as in language...
End A/N: /is munching on chips/ ... /notices you/... /slowly closes laptop, you're pretty sure that you can see two drawn men doing dirty things with each other/ ... Oh hey there. Did not expect you to be here. Heh heeeh /dusts off pant and shakes hand,which you're probably reluctant to accept/. Welcome reader to the end note. To be honest wasn't expecting you here so forgive my ... untidiness /kicks socks under bed, smiles guiltily/.
Hm. So while you're here, perhaps some background? This story has been in works a very long time, and it's time to just let things lie where they may because I keep going back and editing things. So this is the end result of frustration and time. And I'm still not satisfied. Some parts I believe don't jive but as I said, I'm done. I just want it out there for my fellow fans to enjoy. So apologies for any mistakes. I can't say I really care at this point unless it's SUPER!obvious, in which case throw me a bone and just let me off the hook... please ;A; unless it's the translations.
Mm.. this story is based off a true story, of which I heard in high school - some kid got a black eye from doing the do. Oh the joys of teenage life and Tuesday mornings :P
A shiner is slang for a black eye. I'm pretty sure no one uses it any longer, except for me because I'm archaic (read: just like obscure words). If you were confused as to why no one was 'shining', then I apologize, blame the bastardization of the English language and not me.
Alfred did talk really fast in the beginning, that's not a typo. Also holla for some Canada love, England finally remembered him.
Mmm ... I find it hard to classify this oneshot as well. I mean yes it IS romance... but it's not exactly hurt/comfort... people just get hurt and comforted in an unusual way... is it drama? Well whatever I chose... must've had a reason...
Jeez this is a long end note, thanks for sticking around for so long! Have a few more things to address. Don't call Frenchmen "Frogs", be nice to siblings and... is ouais Quebecois? That is most likely spelt wrong. FAIL!Canadian right here, also not sure if accented letters work...
OKAY! LAST THING! You are under no obligation to, but please review and let a poor fangirl's heart soar. I promise to always answer back. And if you want, leave suggestions. I promise I don't bite... hard. /awkward laugh/ Alright, get out of here, you. Go enjoy some more smut while I prepare my room for you next time and I mean that in the most non-sexual way. I just mean my next story is most likely multi-chaptered so must hang on for dear life. Me and more than one chapter is proving to be a challenge.
Anyways, happy readings and see you soon!
