Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Just a fluffy FrUK drabble because I like writing those…


Welcome home, mon amour.

This was perfection.

Arthur rested a hand against Francis' strong chest as they danced closely, swaying gently to the sappy romantic music that the Englishman had walked in on. Warmth coursed through Arthur's body as Francis coaxed him closer still, his arms wrapped around the other man lovingly as he hummed to the soft French melody floating around them. The Frenchman always succeeded in making Arthur fall more in love with him every passing day, and he suspected that Francis knew it. Why else would he just happen to be listening to such music at about the time when Arthur came home from work? Why else would he just happen to be wearing his dark-blue silk shirt that Arthur secretly adored on him? Why else would he just happen to have two glasses of wine ready and candles lit to create such a bloody romantic atmosphere?

Arthur sighed and rested his head against Francis' shoulder, closing his eyes and hoping that Francis knew how much he loved him so he wouldn't have to say it again. He felt smooth lips briefly brush against the top of his head and opened his eyes again, staring into captivating blue eyes before pressing his lips against Francis'. He responded by moving their lips together, fitting perfectly against each other. There was no rush, no "quick fuck" as Arthur had once put it when he'd been in a particularly sour mood. It was just the two of them, swaying in time to nice, background music that neither of them could care less about in that moment; they were so focused on each other.

Arthur pulled back, reaching up and running a hand through Francis' wavy, blonde locks fondly, his emerald eyes following the movement of the fine hair falling in between his fingers like silk. Francis let him do as he pleased, watching him with a sort of amused fascination before lowering his head a little and littering kisses along Arthur's neck and jaw. The Englishman let his hand fall from the Frenchman's hair and tilted his head to give Francis better access to the vulnerable skin, draping his other arm loosely around Francis' neck as he felt his knees tremble slightly when Francis found a particular spot that was so sensitive for Arthur. He hated how Francis could have him swooning after a few loving caresses, but at the same time, he loved it more than anything.

Francis always has been and always will be his greatest weakness, and Arthur convinced himself that the other man would be the death of him one day.

But still…

Arthur gasped as Francis ran his hands down Arthur's back and grasped his butt affectionately, which earned him a low chuckle that sent shivers through him.

God, the damn frog will be the death of me.

But I wouldn't trade him for the world.


A/N: I know it's short again but I just fancied writing something because I haven't for a little while.

Reviews are very much appreciated~