Things go awry at a meet-the-family dinner when Arthur asks daddy to pass the salt and his father isn't the only one to reach for it.

Warning: Minor sexual innuendos. Rated T because I'm paranoid

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

The tension in the room was probably thick enough to cut with a knife, and that was putting it nicely. Actually, he'd find it more much likely that the knife would break upon trying. His gaze flitted to his parents, sitting across the table from himself and his date, both with unimpressed looks on their faces. His mother and father each disapproved when he had come out to them, and now it was time for them to meet his boyfriend. He was hoping that the dinner would go well and that his parents' minds would be changed by the end of it.

Francis was sitting beside him, looking just as nervous as he felt. His blue eyes were wide as he stared at Arthur's father sitting in front of him, and Arthur could have swore that he even paled slightly. His father was a large man with no time for fooling around, and at the moment it looked as though he was about to take Francis' head and crush it.

His mother was in a similar state, slowly sipping from her glass of wine that the waiter had brought minutes before and glaring criticisingly at the blond beside him. Arthur could tell that she was making her mind up about Francis, and he knew he'd have to find a way to change that quickly.

"So uh, mum." Arthur said, getting the woman's attention. "I know you've been talking about getting your hair done lately. Francis is a hairdresser."

"Is that so?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, and I know that you hate most salons because the hairdryers burn your head. Francis' are nothing like that. They're the best in the area."

"Oh really?" she was visibly more interested now, leaving Arthur wanting to sigh in relief.

"Of course!" Arthur exclaimed, more confident now. "Tell her how popular your shop is, Francis."

"Um," he tore his gaze away from Arthur's father to look at her. "Y-Yes, I've blown lots of people," he murmured.

Silence. Arthur slowly turned toward him, his grin frozen on his face right as his mother all but screeched, "Excuse me?"

Francis looked as though he were about to faint. "I-I'm very skilled. Most people seem to think that you need something big and fancy to be good, but it really isn't size that matters-"

Arthur kicked him under the table, effectively cutting him off. "Shut up!" he whispered sternly so that only the Frenchman would hear. "Do you think this is a joke?"

He looked back to his parents. "Sorry about that. Basically, what he meant is that he is one of the best in the area, as I said."

"R-Right," Francis assured, or tried to. "People always know to come to me if they need something good done to them."

Arthur felt his eye twitch. He hurled his fork off of the table and sent it flying across the restaurant. They heard someone shout in pain. "Whoops," he chuckled. "Dropped my fork. I had better go get that. Why don't you come with me Francis?"

With that, he grabbed Francis' arm and pulled him away from the table, to both of their relief. In no time at all, a man with a bleeding cheek angrily thrust the fork back at Arthur, and then they were forced to be on their way back to the table.

"You." Arthur hissed at Francis. "Stop with those comments. Are you doing that on purpose?"

"No!" Francis gasped. "It's just that your father is terrifying! The way he's been staring at me all night - it's like he's killing me in his head!"

"And I'll kill you for real if you don't get your act together." Arthur threatened as they approached their table. "Don't think that when we get home I won't tie you up and tape your mouth shut to stop you from screaming."

"What was that?" Arthur's mother questioned.

"Nothing, mum," he answered quickly, both he and Francis sitting down in their seats.

She looked at him skeptically, and then turned to the other blond. "Francis?"

He looked as though he wasn't going to say anything, but then glanced at Arthur's father and blurted out, "A-Arthur was just explaining how he was going to bind me and tape my mouth shut to keep me quiet after we get home."

"What?" his mother demanded.

"It's okay, I-I'm used to it," Arthur knew that Francis was referring to the times when he was young and the other kids at school would tie him to the flagpole as a joke, but his parents obviously didn't. He wanted to cringe at the horrified look that came upon his mother's face. She was probably appalled at all the impure things spewing from Francis' mouth. His father hadn't said a word since they had reached the restaurant, which wasn't any better. Arthur was pretty sure that there was a vein pulsing in the man's forehead.

"He's talking about the bullies he used to have at school!" Arthur tried to explain.

Francis nodded quickly. "People like to have their way with me."

He let out a sigh; Francis was a lost cause and if the look on his father's face was anything to go by, then his death was inevitable. He decided that they might as well stop talking and try to enjoy their dinner before it got cold. He straightened up from his slumping position, figuring that if they were polite, his father may go easy on Francis, and let out a resigned murmur of, "Could you please pass the salt, daddy?"

The man in question cast him one short look before reaching forward to grab the salt shaker, only for his hand to close around a smaller one that was already there. He slowly glanced up at Francis, whose face quickly drained of all colour.

"I'm gonna get it, aren't I?" Francis whimpered. Mr. Kirkland nodded.

Haha I don't even know what brought this on. Oh well, hope you liked it! The idea came from ImagineYourOTP on Tumblr, so they deserve some credit~

Please review! c: