Author Commentary: I'm writing this as a birthday present 'cuz we all know he wants a little love from England. Also, the French is off the top of my head, so if it needs to be fixed, please let me know.

I wish I could have gotten this up on his birthday, but my computer totally died. I don't know if it will continue working, but I'm getting everything saved while I can.

Title: Anonymous Flowers

Characters/Pairs: France and England, FrUK

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

The only thing different was that it was his birthday. Francis was cleaning up after lunch, not expecting anything to happen because he'd managed to piss off pretty much everyone again. So, it really came as a surprise to him when there was a knock on his door. Drying off his hands from washing the dishes, he went to see who it was.

Opening the door, he was shocked to see none other than Arthur Kirkland himself and even more shocked when a bouquet of roses was shoved in his face.

"Make sure your mail makes it to your own house, frog," then Englishman grumbled, still waiting for Francis to take the flowers.

"Th-thank you, Sourcils," he replied, taking them.

"I didn't get them for you. They were delivered to the wrong house. There's a card to go with them." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sealed envelope with 'Francis' scrawled across the front in messy handwriting.

Eagerly Francis took the letter and opened it, looking to the bottom for a signature. There was none. He looked up to Arthur. "Did the postman say who it was from?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you come in for a bit. I just finished lunch, so there's leftovers, if you want them."

"I don't want any of your cooking, you wanker."

Francis sighed and mumbled something along the lines of 'Can't even be nice on my birthday.' "How about you join me for a glass of wine, then?" he asked.

Arthur's eyes lit up at the mention of alcohol. "'Course. I'm always up for that."

So Francis led him into the kitchen and got the flowers a vase while Arthur watched with surprising intensity. Once the flowers were settled, he turned and asked, "Is everything all right?"

"I just want the alcohol..."

"Oh! Right. Of course." He grabbed two glasses and poured the rich red wine into it, handing one glass to the Brit as he read over the letter.

Cher Francis,

I hope the greeting is right... I thought you might appreciate this a bit more if I added some of your language... I'm not exactly sure how to write this letter. It's not a normal "Happy Birthday!" card, as you've probably guessed from the red roses. Yes, I do know what they mean. I've wanted to tell you for the longest time, but I just haven't had the guts. Even with you being the nation of love who is open to this kind of thing, it's still hard for me to approach you about it. I'm not as open to this sort of thing. (This letter is harder to write than I thought it would be, so I apologize if it seems like I'm babbling.)

I want you to know that I love you. And... I really hope that you love me as well. After all I've put you through, though, I don't expect it, so if you cannot return my love, I completely understand.

All right. Enough of this sappiness. Just... have a... uhmm... Joyeux Anniversaire. I hope it's everything you deserve and more.

All my love,

And from there it was blank. It was as if the sender had planned on signing it and then just gave up. He set down his wine and folded the letter carefully, placing it back in the envelope... The envelope which had no address written on it... Is it possible then, that the flowers came from...

He looked up at the Englishman before him.

"What?" the man asked, noting the letter still grasped in Francis' hands.

"Rien," he replied, smiling softly.

The other man grumbled and said, "Enough with that stupid language of yours." He threw his coat onto the back of the chair with quite a bit of force to illustrate his hatred of the language.

Francis chuckled, looking back at him. "You love it when I speak in French, Sourcils."

"Shut up, wanker."

"You know I don't need to do that."

A bright flush appeared along the Englishman's cheeks and he glanced and the roses and then the letter.

"Angleterre, are you jealous?"

"No!"

Francis merely chuckled and poured him more wine, drinking deeply from his own glass. Before the night was out, more than just that one bottle was finished.

"Francis?"

"Oui?"

Arthur hesitated, playing with his coat, which he'd picked up as he got ready to leave. "Uhmmm... Well... I'm the one that wrote that letter." He spoke so quickly that it almost sounded like one word.

"I know."

"Wh-what?" He looked incredulous.

"It sounds like you." A faint smile touched his lips.

"W-well...?"

"Je t'aime aussi."

A rare smile made its way across Arthur's face. Not only was it a smile, but it was genuine. Along with that, it was directed directly at the drunk Frenchman across from him. He closed the space between them in a few wobbly steps and kissed him with passion.

At first, Francis was shocked. After a moment of being kissed heatedly, however, he relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist and pressing their bodies together.

The kisses soon turned into total making out and the two somehow managed to make it to France's bedroom naked. The two enjoyed their night together.

Needless to say, Francis' birthday turned out much better than he expected.

Lame ending is lame, I know, but I figured with how perverted France is and how drunk England got that they'd both end up doing it, which I'm not quite ready to write and post yet.

Translations!

Sourcils~ Eyebrows

Cher~ Dear

Joyeux Anniversaire~ Happy Birthday

Rien~ Nothing

Angleterre~ England

Oui~ Yes

Je t'aime aussi~ I love you too