This is a fun experiment I had to try and make France England's old flame without making him a douche. I'll let you, dear reader, determine whether I succeeded or not.

This is based on the Avril Lavigne song "Skater Boy." Characters/Pairings include: England-France, France-England, USUK, Prussia, Spain, Seychelles (Angelique). Mentions of past France/Belgium (Alice), Romano/Belgium, and Monaco (Sophie), Portugal, New Zealand (Taylor).

Enjoy.

"I think Kirkland's crushing on you."

Francis glanced over at the part of the library where resident school punk, Arthur Kirkland, was lurking. He appeared to be browsing for books, but every so often he would quickly glance in their direction.

Francis looked back at Gilbert, who continued glaring and Arthur. Arthur noticed the glare and returned it tenfold. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

Gilbert reluctantly broke his gaze at the same time Arthur did and faced his friend, "He's always here when you are. Not just here, the cafeteria and the student lounge too. And he's always looking at you."

"Si," their friend Antonio agreed, "In fact, I've only ever seen Kirkland in the library when you are here too," he peeked around Gilbert at where Arthur was back to browsing, "I think he's got it pretty bad…"

"You think so?" Francis looked back towards Arthur as the other made his quick scan of the library. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before he noticed Arthur blush and turn away.

Of course Francis knew Arthur liked him. Anyone who bothered to pay attention, granted considering this was high school it was not many, could figure it out. Besides, Francis was smart, popular, cultured, and beautiful; who wouldn't like him?

What Antonio and Gilbert, his two closest friends, would never find out if he could help it was that Francis actually liked Arthur back.

Due to the ever moving nature of their parents' jobs, Arthur had been a thorn in his side and a constant companion practically since they were born. Before both families settled down for good in New York and he met Gilbert and Antonio in high school, Arthur had held the honor of being his best friend. He was the first person Francis came out to, and he would take this to his grave, but Arthur was also his first kiss.

Alas, their love was doomed from the start. The high school was not the most accepting of a relationship such as theirs would be. In fact, only Gilbert, Antonio, and Arthur knew that Francis sometimes swung the other way. Not that he would have cared what others thought as long as he had his friends' support. The problem with that was that both his friends had personal vendettas against Arthur Kirkland, and so, as their friend, Francis did too. And one can never date someone they have a personal vendetta against.

"So…" Antonio started, bringing Francis out of his thoughts, "What are you going to do about it?"

Francis leaned back in his chair as he watched Arthur give him one last look before shuffling out of the library. Oh how he wanted to go where he was going, some little corner of the world where it could just be the two of them.

"Francis?" Gilbert's call reminded him that it just wasn't possible, at the very least, not right now.

Instead, Francis chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "As much as I would enjoy breaking Kirkland's heart, love is a precious thing, non? If he's not going to say anything to me, then I won't say anything to him."

"But what if he does?" Antonio leaned across the table, "What if he does confess to you?"

Francis smirked, "If it comes to that, well then he's just asking for a broken heart, oui?"

He joined his friends in a laugh at Arthur's expense yet again, letting his gaze shift to the door and his mind wander to wherever Arthur was.

Francis sighed as he flopped on the couch and picked up the remote. Angelique was asleep after hours of fussing, finally giving him a few hours to himself. He loved his daughter very much, but single parenthood was not all it was cracked up to be.

He turned on the television and started flipping through the channels, not quite processing anything. Suddenly a pair of achingly familiar eyebrows appeared on the screen, causing Francis to pause in his channel surfing to come face to face with Arthur Kirkland for the first time in five years.

"Welcome back," the cute blonde reporter smiled at the camera, "For those of you just tuning in, I'm here with lead singer and guitarist of The Britannia Angels, Arthur Kirkland." The camera zoomed in on Arthur, who gave it an awkward smile and a wave. Francis put the remote on the table and sat down to watch.

"So Arthur," the reporter smiled and leaned forward in her chair, "How does it feel to be back in New York? You grew up here right?"

Francis scoffed. The least a good reporter should do was know a little something about the person they were interviewing. But she was still cute, and Arthur was talking, so he could forgive her.

"Well, a little. I was born in London, and I moved between their and New York for most of my childhood. I wouldn't consider either locale my home per say, but uh, it's great to be back."

He laughed at that; Arthur always hated New York and took every opportunity presented to tell anyone who would listen how London was better.

"But as your fans know you were 'discovered,' so to speak, in California," the reporter smiled and kept talking, "Must have been an interesting trip all the way from New York."

"It was just your average cross country hitchhike. Nothing all that special happened."

"If you consider becoming a rock star along the way nothing special, that is."

Arthur chuckled, Francis smiled, "While it's true I did pay my way with my guitar, I wouldn't say I became a rock star until much later."

"After you met your current manger, Alfred Jones, is that right?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded and Francis noticed he started fiddling with a charm on his necklace, "Alfred introduced me to his brother who owns a record company, and, well, the rest is history."

"And music fans all over the world are grateful for that," the reporter tilted her head, blonde hair immobile, "So tell me, Arthur, are the rumors about something going on between you and up and coming pop singer Lili Zwingli true?"

"O-of course not!" Arthur spat out, cheeks tinting pink, "We're just friends. Besides, her brother would kill me dead if I ever tried anything."

Francis laughed along with the reporter. Even after all this time, Arthur hadn't changed much at all. He was already well aware of Arthur's musical abilities, he had sung few songs for him back in the day, so the stretch from 'kid with a guitar and a decent voice' to 'rock star' wasn't too much of a stretch. Arthur was still awkward and shy around people he didn't know that well, still preferred to keep his private life private, and still was as adorable as ever.

The program cut to a commercial shortly after. Francis put it on mute so it wouldn't disturb Angelique as he picked up his phone and dialed Gilbert's number.

"Awesome speaking," he answered after a few rings.

"It's Francis. You'll never guess who I just saw on the TV."

"Uh…my brother?"

"Non, Arthur Kirkland," he began tidying the living room as he talked, "Remember? From high school?"

"Well yeah. He's like a rock star now. They're calling him the Second British Invasion. Everyone knows that, where have you been?" Francis waited a beat, "Oh yeah, single parent. Right. Have you heard from Alice yet?"

"I, well Angelique technically, got a postcard from her and Lovino from the island Seychelles."

"He was always a bastard anyway. Don't know why Toni liked him so much. Oh yeah, speaking of Toni and Kirkland, I was just about to call you. Toni scored three tickets and backstage passes to his show tonight. You in?"

"And how, pray tell, did he manage that?" he paused in his cleaning and walked into the kitchen.

"You know Toni's sister and Kirkland always got along yeah? Kirkland gave the tickets to her, but she's got this really big meeting in the morning and can't go, so she agreed to let Toni and me have them as long as we promised not to bug Kirkland. We just want to meet the cute drummer anyway."

"Hm," Francis flipped through his date book on the kitchen counter, "I don't think Sophie has anything planned tonight, and I don't think she'd mind doing some last minute babysitting for me. Consider me in."

"Sweet! We haven't had a night out together in ages! I'll call Toni! Tonight's going to be awesome!"

Francis chuckled as he heard his friend fumble with hanging up the phone. A night out, a concert, backstage passes, and the possibility of seeing his first love? Tonight promised to be awesome indeed.

Arthur was amazing. Francis knew this from the beginning, but it took on a whole new meaning when he saw him performing on stage after all these years. Arthur was in his element, letting his natural good looks and talent shine in a way he never publicly did in high school. Francis found that not only was he captivated, he was also jealous that so many others were now able to see this side of him.

After the show, Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis were allowed backstage. Antonio and Gilbert ran off to find the drummer, a small, shy girl named Taylor Jenkins who they both found cute, leaving Francis alone to, as they put it, 'rekindle the old flame.'

When he approached Arthur's dressing room, Francis found that, for a change, he was nervous. After all, he hadn't seen Arthur in years, hadn't heard from him since high school. As much as Francis wanted to just waltz in, sweep his first love off his feet, and carry him away to their happily ever after, he was well aware that he wasn't very kind to Arthur back then. It was entirely possible that Arthur now hated him, wanted nothing to do with his old friend, or, the worst and yet most likely outcome, simply forgot about him and moved on.

Francis took a deep breath to regain his confidence before opening the door and slipping inside the room.

Arthur was sitting in a chair, back facing the door, and he could see in the mirror that his eyes were closed as if he was sleeping. As quietly as he could, Francis shut the door. Arthur heard it, however, and his eyes shot open as he swiveled the chair around to face him.

"I thought I told you not to-" he stopped when he saw exactly who he was yelling at, "F-Francis?" he paused and leaned forward, "It…it is you, isn't it? Francis Bonnefoy?"

"Arthur Kirkland," Francis let himself smile as he took him in, "You haven't changed at all. Well, your eyebrows may have gotten a bit bigger-"

"Belt up frog," Arthur crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, eyes still wide and staring, "How did you… what are you doing here?"

"Toni got tickets," he shrugged, "I came to see you," Francis caught his gaze, "You look good up there, Arthur."

As predictable as ever, Arthur's face went beat red as he looked away, "Y-yeah, well…"

"You haven't changed at all," he repeated as his smile grew wider.

Arthur glanced back at him and glared, "I've changed quite a lot since school, Francis. Not sure if I can say the same for you."

Francis looked over his shoulder, gaze distant, "No, mon ami, I've changed quite a bit as well."

Arthur grunted in acknowledgement before they descended into an awkward silence. He rested his head in his hand and stared down at the floor while Francis started drumming his fingers against the wall behind him.

Eventually he had to break it, "Arthur," Arthur looked up, "I-"

"Artie!" Francis barely dodged the door as it slammed open to reveal an overly excited blond man. He caught sight of Arthur in his chair and ran over to pull him out of it and into a hug, "You were so awesome!"

"Alfred for the love of – put me down this instant!" Alfred grinned and did just that, but he left his hands on Arthur's shoulder.

"Seriously, Artie, I think this was your best show yet!"

Arthur blushed and looked away, "You say that every show."

"And every show it's true," Arthur looked back up at Alfred who ginned even wider, "You just keep getting better and better."

A small smile started to form on Arthur's face as Francis loudly cleared his throat to remind them that there was indeed someone else in the room.

"Oh, uh," Alfred took his hands off Arthur and stepped forward, clearing his throat as well, "The band members will not be taking interviews at this time. If you want, you can have your publication call my office and we can set up an alternate date."

"Alfred," Arthur stepped forward and touched his arm, "he's not a reporter."

"What?" he blinked and glared at Francis, "Then I am going to have to kindly ask you to get the-"

"He's not a stalker-fan either," Arthur sighed.

"Oh," the glare lessened, leaving Alfred confused. "Then who is he?"

"He's…an old friend from high school, is all. Francis Bonnefoy."

"Oh!" Alfred's face brightened as he stepped forward and extended his hand, "I'm Alfred, Alfred F. Jones, Arthur's manager."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Jones," Francis smiled and shook his hand.

"Just Alfred is fine," he grinned again, and Francis was taken by just how young he looked, "But this is great! I feel like Arthur's met all of my friends but I never get to meet any of his! Hey, do you want to come to dinner with us? You two probably have a lot of catching up to do and he never tells me about when he was younger so-"

"Alfred!" Arthur shouted, face going red, "Let the man talk."

Alfred laughed and let go of his hand, "Sorry, I just got excited. So do you? Want to come eat with us, I mean?"

Francis shook his head, "As much as I would love to, I already have other plans for tonight."

"Ah, okay. How about some other time then? We're in New York until the end of the week, if you want to just give me – or Arthur, I guess – a call."

"Perhaps," Francis thought about it for a moment, "I'll have to check my schedule."

"Awesome," Alfred grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Alfred, why don't you wait for me outside, like I asked you to?" Arthur said as he turned back towards the mirror and fiddled with some items placed under it.

"Aw, but Artie-"

"I'll be out in a moment," he caught Alfred's gaze in the mirror, "I just need to finish cleaning up and say goodbye to Francis."

Alfred sighed, "Oh alright. I should check up on Taylor anyway. Last I saw him there were these two guys bugging the hell out of him. Need to make sure they're okay." He wrapped his arms around Arthur from behind and placed a quick but affectionate kiss on his cheek, "Come find me when you're all pretty again okay?"

"Git, I'm never pretty."

"Of course not, you're beautiful," Alfred chuckled and kissed his red cheek again as he pulled away and faced Francis, "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," he nodded as Alfred left the dressing room.

Another awkward silence filled the room as Arthur picked at a spot on the table in front of him to stare at, avoiding the gaze Francis directed at the back of his head.

Eventually he had to say something and came up with, "So Taylor's a man. Gilbert and Antonio will be disappointed."

"Yes, well," Arthur cleared his throat, "It's a common mistake and it's not like he does anything to distinguish between either. I suppose he just likes to keep people guessing."

"Ah, I see," they fell into another silence, and Francis just had to ask, "So you're sleeping with your manager?"

Arthur blushed and spun around to face him, "I-it's not like that! We're not," he sighed and started playing with the necklace he was wearing, "We're not, just fucking around. He, for some reason, really does care about me."

"And what about you?" Francis asked, carefully keeping his face emotionless, "Do you care about him too?"

"I…" he gripped the charm, a small gold unicorn, probably a gift from Alfred, Francis realized, with how hard he was clutching it, "I, yes, I care about him. A lot, actually," Arthur looked into his eyes as if to challenge him to say otherwise, "What, did you really expect me to just wait around for you like some lovesick schoolgirl?"

Expect? No, not really. He knew very well that Arthur wasn't the type to base his entire life around a crush that refused to acknowledge his existence. He had left New York – and Francis – behind after graduation. Until he saw him on the TV that morning, Francis had assumed he'd never see Arthur Kirkland again, and he was fairly certain Arthur thought the same.

He'd be lying, however, if he said that the hope hadn't crossed his mind.

"Besides," Arthur continued, picking at his fingers with an air of disinterest, "Knowing you, you have lines of people waiting to sleep with you."

"Is that what you think of me?"

Arthur froze and slowly looked Francis in the eye, "You've done little in the time I knew you to prove otherwise."

"Just so you don't go besmirching my reputation, I am currently unattached and independent."

"You're single?" he looked genuinely shocked, "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd end up alone."

"Ah, your words burn as sharp as ever, but I'll have you know I am not alone," Francis paused and gripped his arm, "I have a daughter."

"Oh," Arthur glanced awkwardly off to the side, biting back several comments, Francis supposed, "No mother in the picture?"

"…Alice," Francis responded as he looked at the nearby wall, "I was involved with a beautiful woman named Alice for a bit."

A pause, then Arthur asked, "What happened?"

"She ran off with Lovino Vargas of all people," he chuckled, "You remember Lovino?"

"Air-headed Italian, always eating pizza?"

"No, that's his brother. Lovino was the angry one."

"Ah, yes, I remember him. I always thought he had a thing for Antonio."

"So did Antonio. The whole thing came as a complete shock to all of us."

"Huh," Arthur stared at the ceiling, "Who knew?"

"I could say the same for you," that got Arthur's attention, "When you left you were a no good punk with a guitar, now you're a rock star. No one saw that coming."

"That was all Alfred," he sighed and tried to look annoyed but Francis could see the love in his eyes, "After graduation I left New York and just went west, no particular destination in mind, just needed to put as much space between me and everyone I knew that I could."

"And here I was thinking you were just so heartbroken after my rejection that you couldn't stand seeing my beautiful face," Francis sighed in a dramatic fashion.

"Yes surprisingly there were more things wrong with my life than the fact you were in it," Arthur rolled his eyes, "Anyway, I found myself in Los Angeles living on the streets, playing street guitar for petty cash and running out of food, and that's when I met Alfred," there was nothing but pure affection on his face as he smiled at the memory, "He saw something in me, or maybe he heard it, since I looked like hell and smelled worse, and he invited me into his home and let me stay with him. Honestly that boy is too kind for his own good."

"It seems to have worked out for both of you in the end."

"Yes, well, that was pure chance really, and a lot of good things coming together. Matthew, his brother, had recently acquired a dying label and needed fresh talent. Alfred kept pushing him to listen to me and one day he did. He liked what he heard and started me out on a small solo career that went nowhere. Luckily the Angels, as they were known at the time, were in need of a new lead singer. Matthew thought I'd fit the part and Alfred became our manager."

"And then you became rock star," Francis closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"That was all Alfred," Francis could hear the blatant affection in his voice, "He's, well, brilliant."

"I'll bet," Francis opened his eyes and found Arthur leaning against the mirror waiting for something, an explanation, a reason, or maybe he was just daring Francis to try and take him from Alfred. Or perhaps that's what he was waiting for. No, Francis shook his head, he had his chance with Arthur and he let it pass.

"Alfred seems like a good man and you deserve him," whatever Arthur was expecting, it certainly wasn't that, "Are you happy with him?"

Arthur got over his shock and nodded, standing a little taller and clutching his necklace, "Yes, I'm happy with him."

Francis smiled as he took Arthur's hand and kissed the back of it, "Then I am happy for you."

Before Arthur could respond, he had let go of his hand and was halfway out the door. "Wait!" he shouted, making Francis stop in the doorway. He quickly scribbled something on a small piece of paper and put it in Francis's hand, "Now that Alfred has the idea in his head, I doubt he'll quit bugging me until he actually has lunch with you, so feel free to call him and arrange a time to meet or whatever."

Francis looked at the number, smiled, and slipped it into his pocket, "If you want me to have lunch with you and your beau, all you have to do is ask."

"What the, I certainly wouldn't want to go," Arthur crossed his arms and looked away, "I'd absolutely hate having to stare at your face all meal. I just think that you and Alfred would get along and he seemed interested in you and you seem…lonely. I guess."

"Arthur, if you wanted to set me up with your manger-"

"That's not what I'm trying to do at all idiot!" he lunged forward and tried to take the paper back from him, "I just figured you'd want a friend who wasn't a complete idiot, but if you're just going to-"

"Relax Arthur," he laughed and pushed Arthur off of him, "Gilbert and Antonio may be idiots, but they are good friends to me. However, I appreciate the offer and do look forward to telling your boyfriend all about your emo days in high school."

"It wasn't emo it was punk!" he huffed and turned back to the mirror, "Of course you wouldn't notice the difference."

"I suppose not," Francis chuckled, "I should be going now. Gilbert and Antonio are probably worried about me."

"You'll find someone," Francis stopped in the doorway and looked back. Arthur was fiddling with something on the table in front of the mirror, "Just keep trying. You'll find someone too."

At a loss for words for perhaps the first time in his life, Francis simply nodded and left the dressing room.

Gilbert and Antonio were waiting for him outside, both sporting lovely bruises on their face. As soon as they spotted him, they rushed over and demanded all the juicy, play by play details of what went on in the dressing room.

"I'm afraid I must disappoint. It seems Arthur already has someone."

Gilbert quick to his defense, "He was always really annoying."

"Yeah, he was never that cute," Antonio agreed, "Bad attitude."

"Being famous and talented really doesn't change that much."

"Yes, you could do much better than Kirkland."

"Tons better. You're way out of his league."

Francis let out a genuine laugh, the first in he couldn't remember how long, "Oui, you are right."

"I've got an idea Gilbert clapped him on the shoulder, "Since Sophie's still taking care of your daughter, you can spend the rest of the night with us, like old times yeah?"

He smiled, also the first genuine one in a while, and threw his arms around his friend's shoulders, "That sounds like a fantastic plan."