I do not own Hetalia and all that good warning stuffs! This is a short, pure fluff one shot. Enjoy!
Arthur swung his legs onto the couch and leaned against the armrest. He laid his volume of Hamlet on his knees and lower thighs. A slowly savored cup of Earl Gray sat on the end table next to him. It was Saturday, his day off from running a bookstore in the city. His quaint, one story home lay a mile out of the city in a quiet, spread out neighborhood in the countryside.
He planned to have a quiet day to himself reading. Perhaps he would sew or garden or watch telly later. But, as soon as he had settled into the couch a quick knock came at the door. Sighing, Arthur set down the tea he had been sipping and slipped a small tasseled book mark into Hamlet's pages. He pulled open his door to find Francis standing on the doorstep.
Arthur smiled internally at how beautiful he looked, as always. Sun shining through his long blond hair, illuminating his face in a sweet golden glow. Blue eyes bright with joy, immaculate, near porcelain looking skin and a handsome facial structure were framed by well-manicured blonde stubble. His smile, almost close mouthed, barely showing a sliver of pearly white teeth, somehow radiated happiness despite its subtlety. He wouldn't express any of those things he noticed aloud though, of course.
"What do you want, frog?" Arthur grumbled, actually pleasantly surprised to see his boyfriend.
"Just to spend some time with mon lapin," Francis replied smoothly.
Arthur rolled his eyes but let Francis in. He walked back to his comfortable nook on the couch and got back to his book. Francis sat down next to him and leaned against his shins; Peeking over Arthur's book. They sat that way for a while, Arthur becoming so immersed in his book that he didn't notice when a grin that could only mean trouble spread across Francis' face.
In one swift movement Francis was putting Hamlet on the thick rug and gently scooting the end table, fragile teacup and all, away from the couch. Before his British boyfriend could let out more than an angry squawk Francis had pounced on top of him. He attacked Arthur's sides, tickling him mercilessly. Francis smirked at Arthur's writhing form and the stentorian giggles that were attempting to be stifled.
"F-Francis! S-Stop it ri-ght now-w, y-you blood-dy git!" Arthur said breathlessly, attempting, unsuccessfully, to swat away the taller man's hands.
"Non! You are très mignon!" Francis cooed down at the Brit.
Arthur continued to laugh, harder and harder as he went. Snorting and wiggling, his sides heaving laboriously beneath Francis' fingers. Arthur's arms thrashed wildly and tears started to form in his eyes. Francis stopped, beaming down at the smaller man beneath him as he tried to catch his breath. Arthur attempted to scowl at the Frenchman but could only be successful in shooting a half-hearted glare as his lips refused to lose a slight upward curve.
"Wanker," Arthur scolded, notes of humor shining through his anger
"You are simply adorable, Sourcils," Francis gushed
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, smiling sweetly. Eventually, Francis laid back on the couch, pulling Arthur over him so they were lying chest to chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around the smaller man who nuzzled his head into Francis' neck. They laid comfortably, drinking in the scents of one another.
For Arthur, it was a rather fresh and enticing cologne with a hint of roses lying behind it and something that was his partner alone. Francis took in deep breaths of heavy tea scent and what smelled like petrichor and the yellowing pages of Shakespearian manuscripts. It was comfortable lying there, wrapped in the comforting warmth of one another. Francis watched carefully as Arthur's eyes drooped closed and felt the Brit's breathing even out against his chest before allowing himself to be pulled into a comfortable doze.
Translations:
Mon lapin – my rabbit
Très mignon – so cute/extremely cute
Sourcils - eyebrows