A/N: Very pointless attempt at fluff.

Kidnapping

When England woke up, the first thing he took note of was the dull ache against his skull. The second thing – which was far more troublesome in England's standards – was the crooning voice of France.

"Ah~, you look so adorable when you wrinkle your nose in your sleep, mon petit lapin~!" England twitched, still not opening his eyes, at the voice that echoed only love and tenderness and maybe even lust.

...Dear God, was this his new, realistic nightmare?

Please, let it be a nightmare, he didn't want to deal with the Frenchman when he would open his eyes.

Let it be just a nightmare.

England opened his emerald eyes very carefully, fearful that he might see France's wavy blond hair in front of his face while the French would do something unspeakable with his mouth.

And, dear Lord, the first thing his eyes noticed were the cerulean blue eyes of the said Frenchman, and England couldn't stop his reaction in time.

He shrieked like a little girl, trying to push the French away from his face with his hands. "Get off, get off, get off, GET THE FUCK OFF MY FACE!" he screamed and almost choked on his tongue as panic rose inside him.

He didn't remember seeing France in the underground he had been travelling. England had been on his way back to his own house in London, but apparently, he had fallen asleep.

And now, he found himself face-to-face with France who shouldn't even be in England... Oh dear, that sounded so wrong, didn't it?

"Oh, cher, you are so feisty when you have just woken up~", France sang jovially, having dodged England's fists quite skillfully, and grinned at the tired Englishman. The grin sent shivers up to England's spine, remind him of reasons for why he preferred to stay as far away from the French as possible.

England jumped up from the bed... Wait, what? From bed? England glanced around frantically, completely freezing on the spot as he realized just where he was.

"France..." his voice sounded weak, shock making it wavering. "Why on Earth am I in your bedroom in Paris?" His stomach twisted nastily as he had voiced the question.

France looked at him with amusement as he walked up to him while ignoring the way England backed away from him. "Ah, mon Anglais, that is an easy question to answer", he said with his deceivingly soft voice that never ceased to unnerve the Briton. "You're here because I have kidnapped you."

After that statement, England could practically feel his jaw hitting the floor of the stylish bedroom that belonged to his former enemy. "Y-you... W-what?" he stuttered out, his gut clenching painfully as he tried to stop himself from gagging. What the hell had that bastard said?

"I said, I have kidnapped you, mon Anglais", France repeated and he was so close to England that he felt France's breathe tickling his cheek. The Brit ignored his racing heartbeat.

"But... why, you idiot, why?" England raised his voice as he started to slowly recover from his shock. "I have work to do, you perverted wine bastard! And you have, too!"

France smirked at his British friend (?) before placing a kiss on top of England's nose. "Why must you be so uptight, mon cher?" he sighed melodramatically, grinning in triumph as he noticed the flushed cheeks of the Brit.

"Why, you ask?" the Brit all but screeched at the obnoxious git that was way too close to him for England to feel comfortable. "Because we have to be responsible, you twat!" Then England's eyes widened in odd realization. "Or are you trying to fix you country's economy by kidnapping me?" England narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You won't get that much money out of me, you drunkard."

France pouted at the Englishman. "How can you think so badly of me, mon petit lapin?" he asked in fake sadness. "I wouldn't stoop that low, you know."

England raised his rather thick eyebrows sarcastically. "Is that so?" he asked dryly. "Who was it again that tried to force me into marriage to save their bloody ass?"

France smiled at the memory. "Ah, I believe it was moi", he tilted his head as a thoughtful expression emerged to France's – beautiful, England might add – face. "But, you know, there was other reason for that proposal as well, Angleterre."

England stiffened at the dreamy tone, suspicion crawling back in. Was this one of France's numerous attempts to get him to his bed? Whatever it is, England thought to himself with a scowl on his face, it's not going to work, pretty boy.

"Well?" England retorted when the French said nothing. "You're not going to say something stupid like how you love me, are you?" he asked incredulously. Although he secretly hoped that to be the case, he knew there was a little chance of that happening. England still remembered what France had said during the proposal, and damn, it had hurt. "I don't want to do this either!" France had exclaimed with pathetic face.

France leaned closer to England's already red face, and kissed the Brit to his cheek. "Oui, mon Angleterre", he whispered quietly and huskily, causing England to shiver unnoticeably. "That is exactly it."

"Fuck no!" England slapped France's cheek, surprising the older nation. "You say that every single time you try to get me into your bed with you!" he spat angrily, blushing furiously from anger and embarrassment. "This was why you kidnapped me, huh?" he continued, ignoring how France tried to cut him off. "To mess with my bloody head like you did with your proposal?"

France blinked, and England's eyes widened. Oh, bloody hell. He didn't just say that out loud, did he?

"Cher", France's hands cupped England's cheeks and England, unwillingly, blushed at the intimate touch. Damn frog...

"You said no, because you thought I didn't really want it?"

England didn't say anything, but he was sure his eyes told the truth anyways.

France's lips curved up into a gentle, loving expression that England hadn't seen for a long time. Last time when that expression had appeared, it was before the first World War. "You would be really cure if you were this honest all the time, Angleterre", he said with low voice, pressing his lips against England's.

The Brit stood stiffly, not responding to the kiss at first, before relaxing slightly and kissing reluctantly back. He didn't believe in France's feelings, but whatever, it didn't matter at the moment.

Surprisingly enough, France didn't try to deepen the kiss, which felt bittersweet to both of them, and after a moment he pulled back. "Mon cher, je t'aime. I always have. I always will", he murmured quietly, his hands still on England's cheeks, thumbs rubbing Englnad's skin soothingly.

England looked at him in disbelief, searching for something from the French's eyes that would betray his sweet words. He found nothing, but considering that England had always been bad at reading people, it said nothing.

"I... I guess I kind of like you, too", England mumbled quietly, trying to avert his gaze away from France, but the stubborn hands kept his head in place.

France smiled genuinely at his little rabbit. "See, wasn't kidnapping you a magnificent idea after all, mon cher?"

England's eyes narrowed at his words. "I still don't have any idea how you got me here from the undergroung without waking me up..."

"How about we discusss about it while I take you to a dinner?" Francis suggested suavely, smiling ever so charmingly. England couldn't help but consent to his suggestion.

And maybe, just maybe, this whole 'kidnapping' wasn't as bad as it had seemed...