Francis couldn't remember the last time he had been in a hospital as the patient. It was a strange feeling to the least, all he could do was lay in his assigned bed and wait for his nurse to come around every three hours or so. He didn't have anything to do during those three hour periods of waiting. He would be given meals, get an occasional visitor, and read. That's it, that's all he could do. It was horribly monotonous to the Frenchman and it was getting to the point where he could hardly stand it. On the light side of things, his nurse was an extremely attractive Englishman who somehow managed to put up with him.
He looked over at the clock on his white bedside table. 2:57pm it read. Francis silently celebrated. The Brit would be coming by soon enough. It was at that moment that the door to his room opened and in came the grumpy Englishman, Arthur.
"Hello, Francis." Arthur greeted, busying himself with the pills that were meant for the Parisian. He was wearing forest green scrubs that matched his eyes. His light blonde hair was as shaggy as usual, yet Francis still found the other alluring.
"Bonjour, Arthur. Have you come to confess your undying love to me?" Francis asked. He heard the Brit scoff.
"You asked me the same thing at noon and nine, and I will reply with the same answer. Unless you count forcing medication down your frog-infested throat as a confession of undying love, then no."
Francis couldn't help but smirk. "Aren't nurses supposed to be nice to their patients, and women?"
Arthur glared at the arrogant man lying in the bed next to him. "I'll have you know that half of the nurses in this hospital are male. Also, I only have to be nice to you if I feel like it." He handed Francis his pills and water. After a few moments he took the plastic cup back.
"I still don't understand why you aren't interested. Just love me, Arthur! You know you want to." He exclaimed.
"Francis, if you don't stuff your cakehole soon, I'll stuff it for you." Arthur sighed. "I'll be back at six to bring you dinner and your medicine. Please try to get some sleep. Amelia told me she checked on you at two this morning and you were still awake. I understand that you have insomnia and that you want to refrain from taking medication, but if this goes on I'm afraid you'll have to start taking sleeping pills with your nine pm medicine."
Francis huffed. Amelia was the American nurse who worked the night shift. Her job was to check on him every two hours and she was unfortunately good at keeping Arthur up to date on Francis' sleep schedule. "I can't convince you otherwise?"
"No, Francis. You have a severe concussion and fractured ribs. You're body needs to rest. I'm sorry if I annoy you as much as you annoy me, but you'll be out of this hospital in a few days. Just endure my presence for a little while longer."
"Oh, you don't annoy me Arthur. In fact I rather enjoy your presence." Francis winked at the Brit.
"Shut it, Frog." With that, Arthur left only to return three hours later.
For the next four days, their conversations looped. It would always begin with Arthur saying hello, move onto Francis asking for the nurse to love him, then proceed to Arthur telling Francis to start taking sleeping pills and occasionally address other health concerns he had for the Frenchman. They would argue about his drinking habits or his seemingly obvious depression. Well, it was obvious to Arthur at least. At one point a cheerful doctor, his name tag read Antonio, popped into the room saying that they fought like an old married couple. Arthur promptly told him to fuck off.
Even though the two bickered, there was no doubt in Francis' mind that Arthur was simply looking out for this health. They had never truly fought until the last night of Francis' stay at the hospital.
Arthur walked into the Parisian's room at nine pm, ready to give Francis his last dosage of medication in the hospital. Just as before, it began as a normal conversation. Arthur greeted Francis, Francis shamelessly flirted with him, and they argued about health concerns. That was when their "chat" became rotten.
"I'm not trying to push medication on you Francis, I'm just worried you're going to be an idiot and try to operate a vehicle on an hour of sleep. You could get yourself killed." Arthur stated.
"For one thing, I always get at least five hours of sleep. For another, it's nothing you need to worry about. I'm checking out tomorrow and you'll never have to see my face again. You will forget that I ever existed in a month." Francis shot back.
"You're wrong there, Frog. It's hard to forget about someone as irritating as yourself."
"I'm growing tired of your insults, Arthur. Why don't you just fight me like a man instead of acting like a big shot while you try to one up me?"
"Trust me, Francis, the day you fight me and win is the day we'll get married." Arthur sighed. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning before you go."
"Make yourself useful and bring some coffee too." At this point, Francis' annoyance was blatantly obvious. Why did he ever look forward to seeing the Brit? He was rude, egotistical, and an all-around control freak.
Arthur paused at the door. "Excuse me? Make myself useful? That's funny, for some reason I thought that I had been helping by treating you every bloody day. Show a little gratefulness for God's sake."
"Why should I be grateful that you were doing exactly what you were supposed to do? Any other nurse could have done the exact same thing you've don't for the past two weeks. They probably would have been much nicer as well." Francis glared at Arthur. "Maybe they would have acted like they cared."
Arthur opened his mouth to snap something back, but he was not able to form words. He hadn't been kind to Francis at all. He had taken his harmless flirting as an insult. He had mocked his home country. He had been nothing but rude, but he would never apologize. That would hurt his pride too much. So instead of replying, he walked out of the room without another word.
Francis woke up late that morning. Light was shining through his blinds at an intense brightness. He turned, only to see Arthur sitting in the visitor's chair.
"Get ready to go, you have to be out of here by ten. It's nine thirty-seven." Arthur leaned forward and placed a cup of the bedside table. "There's your coffee."
"Thank you." Was the Frenchman's quiet reply.
"Sure. I'll be outside the door, come out when you're ready." Arthur stood up and left the room.
It took Francis a moment to force himself out of the bed to get dressed. He still had to be careful of his concussion, which had now been diagnosed as minor, and his healing ribs. He quickly ran a comb through his hair and grabbed his coffee. It was bitter and honestly one of the most disgusting things that had ever cursed his mouth, but he forced it down anyway. Caffeine was caffeine. He got up and threw the cup away, only to pause when he saw something on the bottom. He quickly pulled the cup out of the garbage and read the black ink.
Fight me?
07123-456789
Francis couldn't help but smirk. I guess his attempts at flirting weren't for nothing. He kept the coffee cup, grabbed his bag, and left the room. Arthur was standing out in the hall with a woman.
"This is Elizabeta, she'll be showing you out." Arthur sighed. "Goodbye, Frog." Francis nodded in reply. They both knew this wasn't goodbye.
"Follow me." Elizabeta urged. Francis winked at Arthur before following the young woman down the hall and into the elevator.
A/N Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my FrUK FF. I expect this story will be around 20-25 chapters long. For now the rating will be T, but it may turn into M later on. This won't be an angst based fanfiction, it will be more on the humorous and fluffy side of the spectrum. I will explain how Francis ended up in the hospital throughout the next few chapters, this was just an introduction. I plan on updating every Thursday or Friday. Thanks for reading guys! Reviews are appreciated!
