Masochist
"Arthur." England, for what he was worth, could swear he was having one of his good days, in a good mood. There was something about Francis that made all of that go down the drain, and made his face look as though he were sucking the sourest of lemons. His heart always beat a little too loud around him, his face was always a little too red. But it didn't change that way he treated the french man at all.
"What do you want, wine bastard?" Francis smirked at him and held out a red rose before bending forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. There was a moment of silence before Arthur's fist quickly collided with Francis' gut. "What the hell was that?! You want another hundred years war, frog?!" he continued to kick and punch and scratch until Francis was laying bloody on the floor.
Francis looked up at him and smirked, wiping the blood from his chin. "I love you too." was all he said, avoiding the kick aimed for his head.
Arthur huffed. "This is why I maintain that you're bad at war. How many times have you been beaten by me?" he crossed his arms and smirked condescendingly at the french man who was nursing his swore jaw. But rather than rise to the bait, Francis smiled back.
"It's not that I suck at war. It's that I like being beat up by you."
Arthur gaped at him for a moment, face flushed with either rage or embarrassment or possibly even the kinky thoughts that may also have been going through Francis's mind. "ARE YOU SOME KIND OF MASOCHIST, YOU FRENCH PERVERT?!"
Francis smiled, tripping Arthur to bring him down to his level, holding him close and getting a few good feels before Arthur could beat him up again. "Only for you, Mon Cher."
Owari