A/N: My first 'story' since I took everything down! Enjoy? Maybe? If it's possible to enjoy my writing? I can't really consider it a 'story' since it's like, less than 500 words. But please. Do review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters depicted. All rights reside with Hidakez Himaruya.

He knew Arthur would hate him in the morning.

But he kept thrusting anyways, egged on by the drunken cries and moans of the man beneath him. His face was still streaked with tears from a crying bout earlier that night, yet he was still oddly beautiful in the pale moonlight.

"Ah, fuck, A-Alfred!"

He could feel Arthur's nails digging into his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. He tried his best not to mark Arthur at all, although he was sure some evidence would remain of the younger nation's inability to control his desires while inebriated. One of Arthur's legs was thrown over his shoulder, giving him more leverage when his true love begged him to go faster, harder, deeper in his alcohol-slurred begging.

"Alfred! God, p-please~!"

He knew he was only a replacement for the colony Arthur had lost, for the boy he adored, for the man he wanted. He knew that was the reason Arthur kept his eyes tightly shut every time the fucked. He knew that he would have to sneak out in the middle of the night, unsatisfied and depressed, to go home to sleep. He knew that's how it was every time and that's how it would always be. And he knew that both would pretend that nothing had happened the next day at the meeting.

"I-I'm going to-"

Francis pushed deeper, striking against the prostate he'd found the first time Arthur had come to him, begging in whines and pleas to relieve him of his torture. Apparently he had no idea of Francis's own feelings. It drove him insane to hear him scream someone else's name, to not be allowed to kiss him, to not be able to provide the love he knew Arthur was craving. He was only allowed to fuck him into the sheets and pretend to be Alfred. Their whole "relationship" was built on fucking. Francis wasn't allowed to call it making love. Because this wasn't love.

"Nggaah!"

He felt Arthur come on their stomachs, going limp on the bed. He could hear Arthur mewl softly when he pulled out, cock still hard as hell and begging for release. Francis slowly crawled to the edge of the large bed, letting his libido take care of itself. He grabbed tissues and carefully cleaned off Arthur as he drifted in and out of heady, post-orgasmic consciousness. He slipped out of bed, redressing and dropping the technically unused condom in the trashcan along with the tissues as he left for his own home. He turned the key in the ignition of his car and thought to himself.

This certainly wasn't love. It was hate.

A/N: I love all of you who read~! Not betaed, so if you find a mistake, free cookies! Look hard! If you find one I'll do any request you have! Reviews are the cheese to my macaroni, as a writer can not improve without input!

Love and murder-

Al~