A/N: So, I was roleplaying with a friend of me, she is the angst-lover type, and I'm the very weirdo type of "Everything is about human psychology". Talking we decide to do a role-play about 2p! France and Arthur, I'm not telling you the entire plot, because that would be spoiler, but basically it was human AU, Bédoier-2p! France- and Arthur somehow had been in a love relationship. This changes when Bédoier is especially grumpy, rude and inpatient. More sexcret stuff and then they separate. More stuff and we stopped the role-play because I couldn't bare such violence and gore I was writing and she found the top of her angsty feelings. Anyway I wanted to move it from violence to … insane… but I didn't find more psychology types so… I just wrote it… Hope you like it dears…
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SEX!
Now, with your attention…
Human AU, in case you don't realize: yaoi, human names, 2p!, FrUK, Rating M for a (lot of) reason, violence, colorful language, more ahead a lot of character deaths… uhm… blood and Mpreg… I think I'm over… oh and angst.
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DISCLAIMER: Hetalia doesn't belong to me, neither 2p! Hetalia, this idea yes, and the choice of name for 2p! France as well, the idea is too of my friend, the beginning at least but I just had to write the rest.
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It was one of the worst, boring, hardest, and shitest days of work to Bédoier, he didn't even liked to work and since he and his boyfriend were living together he needed more money than the one he used to win to survive before, and so he needed to change to a more stable job than being a gambler. Of course he hated it. He checked out his only friend of every single day, his loved cigarettes, but they left him; he had just two.
When he finally reached home all he wanted was some good not burned food, a new box of cigarettes, maybe a beer, and definitely sex. But of course it was not going to happen. The second he opened the door the smell of cleaning products hit his face, there was definitely no food ready, and his couple was nowhere in sight. Sighing tiredly Bédoier walked inside, he hated the cleaning days, those days the British was barely complacent. He followed the smell of cleanness till the kitchen, there was Arthur, and some steps a side was the fridge, you know, the one that has beer.
Not even announcing his presence he opened the door and scanned the inside for his loved drink. Not even one.
-Arthur where the fuck did you left the beer?- He asked with his anointment bordering his voice, the British just freeze in his place before going on like nothing.
-Down the toilet… and the boxes of cigarettes too- The green eyed man said finishing with organize the bottom of the cupboard to face the pissed face of his lover.- You know I hate the smell of the cigarettes and how you turn into an asshole when you are drunk.
Arthur rushed from the kitchen to somewhere else in the house they were living on, the brit might be insane enough to drop out the Frenchman addictions, but he was not stupid and there was no way he would be anywhere close to him while he were as angry as he knew he would the next days. Of course he didn't expect Bédoier to follow him and not stay to destroy his job. The French grip held tightly at the two years younger male.
-You better be fucking kidding me… I'm not in humor for it, where in the living hell you left them Arthur-that wasn't a question anymore, Arthur as strong and stubborn as he was didn't knew how to deal with him right now, obviously was beyond the angriness he was waiting for. He thought Bédoier would take it on the dishes, and maybe the furniture, not against him. In the year and a half they had been together the British had witnessed the long hired man fight and broke things a lot of times, time to time the French had tried to take his anger on him but it often ended up in rough sex and not an actual fight. Now it felt different, he could almost see him broking his arm with all the strength that was being putted in his arm.
-No, there is not alcohol in this house, not even my whisky and hell you know I like it. Stop being such a bitch and..- He couldn't finish this sentence as a strong fist hit his stomach taking all the air out of him, and making his legs lose their strength, he fell on the floor knees first and his arms then since Bédoier had let go of his arm.
-Don't you dare to speak to me like that, you little insignificant whore. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but right now you are not than my bitch-After a few seconds in the floor the British kept his position waiting for the right moment to hit back, if they were going to fight he would not be a girl and stay crying in the floor.- It's easy for you to do stupid things like that, non?... The least you could have done after that was just have some eatable food on the table, but hell no, you just had to fill the house with that disgusting smell to Blanche.
-You are an asshole, I spent all the bloody day cleaning this mess of house and you had to insult that as well. You know what? Fuck you. Cook your own food, I am done with the culinary world.- He could bare the hits, but he always had a weakness for people words, even if he didn't shown it. It hurt him not being appreciated like he would appreciate someone doing things for him. He was taking revenge.
-Shut it. Just shut it. I'm not in the damn mood for dealing with your bitching.-The Frenchman walked away into the living room still pissed with the smell; he took one of his last cigarettes lighting it hoping the smoke would take away the blanche essence.-Just get me something eatable for once.
Usually Arthur would send him to fuck himself but obviously Bédoier was not in the mood to be contradicted. He glared at the French back before walking to the kitchen. At least it was still clean.
Bédoier wasn't like that before, he used to be sweet. That wasn't even his name! Before they started dating they had been friends, Francis, which was his name before, had used to flirt him in any occasion he had, it was not until the St. Valentine when Francis officially asked him to be a couple that they started dating. Everything was perfect the first three months, Arthur even moved to Francis apartment, but then that can happen to an orphan men happened. His only sibling had been stabbed in the middle of a fight between drunk friends of his; it wouldn't be that horrible if it weren't that Francis was there, he saw it, his older brother, the one who abandoned college to take care of him, his hero, pathetically murdered by some drunk guy.
It was then when everything turned out different. After that day Francis had started smoking again, drinking beer. And after the funeral thing grow worst; the French changed his name to his brother's Bédoier.
It didn't matter to Arthur, a name doesn't decide who we are after all and he still loved that man no matter if he will have to call other man name. If only he had knew. It wasn't the name it was sure, but he do changed; Franci-… Bédoier, was depressed all time, he didn't care of his appearance anymore, his hair turn to be dirty, his skin rough to the touch, his beard didn't receive much attention anymore and the sing song voice he used to had was long time gone. Arthur loved him, no matter how much he changed, he knew the man he fell for was still somewhere, and that only time would be capable of bring him back of his own shadows.
The British was not stupid, he knew he was in dis-vantage for a physical fight. It was true that he picked up a lot of fights while studying high school but he stopped when he made it to collage. Except for Francis he didn't fight a lot in there, and they didn't even fight in the full way of the word, they were more like flirting than fighting. Bédoier was a different story; the first months he fought in some bar every single day. He calm down later but still fought at least once a week. He hadn't fight in years, not a serious fight. His best try was to keep the French in a good mood the rest of the day and then next day kick him out of the house till he apologized.
Having a plan ready Arthur finished what seemed like burn rice and bread…maybe potato, and walked back to the living room to call his lover attention. He frowned at the sight of Bédoier lying on the couch dirtying it with his shoes and the ash of his cigarette unceremoniously falling on the carpeted floor.
-You are going to clean that …Your food is ready- The green eyed man stated just before storming right back to the kitchen in order to avoid the Frenchman words. Of course he didn't expect to be followed; after all, he left the food in the kitchen, that was smart not.
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This story is going to be long like hell... And you should notice it I need a beta since my english is too weird... If you want to or know someone who might want to please PM me First time in english please be gentle~.. Other thing Updates will take long.. thats all
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