Author's Note: There's this picture that has England telling America that they should "do it" in France's chair next and France freaking out so of course my friend sends it to me and I freak out (she and her bf cosplay England and America and I cosplay France) so I think France deserves some payback, and I'm bored. Please enjoy.
Canada was walking down one of the hallways in the building that the world conference was being hosted in. He was in a down mood not only had noticed his arrival but also because Kumajiro hadn't even come with him so he was entirely alone. The forgotten nation sighed dismally as he trudged through the empty corridor. Why did he even bother to attend these meetings if no one ever noticed him, he wondered to himself. Sure Russia had noticed him once or twice, but Russia was scary and he would prefer if the sadistic country did not realize he existed, ever. Truth be told the only real reasons Canada still came was because as a country he felt obligated to show up and try to have a say, and because France was there. Of course it was only rare for the sexy country to notice his former colony, but when the Frenchman did Canada felt loved and noticed for at least a month afterwards; those French really knew how to make someone feel wanted.
A clock chimed somewhere and Canada frowned, it was one o'clock and everyone wouldn't be back from lunch until about two. Maybe he should go get something to eat himself; it would be something to do at least. Actually a quick snack was beginning to sound good, he had eaten breakfast but a small something would keep him satisfied until the meeting ended and he returned home for dinner. Yes he would go to one of the cafés and get something.
As Canada turned around to make him way to the exit a random door opened and something slithered out. Suddenly Canada found a pair of masculine arms encircling his waist. He let out a small, pathetic squeak as a lightly jaw line nuzzled against his cheek.
"Bonjour mon petit chou."
"B-bonjour papa," Canada stuttered. He took a deep breath to calm himself from the shock of a pervert randomly latching onto him.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine. Um do you need anything?" Canada asked.
The younger nation was turned around to be accosted by two pretty blue eyes. "You of course," France said with that alluring smirk of his.
Canada blushed at the glaringly obvious innuendo. "How can I help you?" he asked timidly.
France's smirk grew and he lead Canada into the room he had come from; the room in which the world conference was being held. "I was lonely and I 'eard you walking by."
Canada looked at him curiously, how on earth had he heard him? Something in the back of Canada's mind told him that France had probably been watching from behind the door for some poor soul to walk by because even though Canada did harbor deep feelings for his former papa he knew that the man did like to get around.
France led his darling to Eng-a random chair and sat down on it, having the normally transparent country staying standing. "So then mon cher, 'ow 'ave you been?"
"OK, I'm babysitting some snakes and crocodiles until their rightful owner is determined."
"Interesting," France said distractedly. It was apparent that he didn't care too much about the recently orphaned reptiles.
France placed his hands on Canada's waist and slowly pulled him forward. ""ave you missed me?"
Canada blushed lightly at this; he knew where this was going to go. Of course the location was new; France had never made such moves on him in a public place before. "Yes," he admitted in a small voice.
"I 'ave missed you as well mon petit chou," France said as he pulled Canada close until his was nearly about to come into contact with the older nation's knees. "Why don't you sit down, mon cher, I'm sure that today has been very trying for you."
That actually wasn't a lie, it took a lot to do ones best to try to be noticed, and Canada had done just that for a good three house. He had even tried yelling, but his voice didn't seem to be loud enough to glean anyone's attention. Now, though, he had the attention of the person he liked the most because while he wanted to be noticed by the other countries he didn't like any of them very much.
"Um alright," Canada said and made to sit in the chair next to France but the blonde man's grip on his hips held firm.
"Why not sit on Papa's lap, like when you were young."
Canada's blush deepened, yes France was most definitely after that, but Canada was slightly confused because while France had always been a raging pervert and didn't mind walking around nude, he had never been an exhibitionist, at least not the Canada's knowledge. The idea that someone could come in at any moment was terrifying, but Canada couldn't help but be slightly turned on by it, not that he's admit it, he was too shy to but he was France's former colony after all.
Almost tenderly Canada placed himself on France's lap and almost immediately France began nuzzling the young man's neck, kissing it softly; France had never really been one to beat around the bush when it came to what he wanted.
"P-papa." Canada gasped; he wasn't as depraved as France to just give no matter his secret perverse pleasure.
"Oui?" France said lazily as one of his hands un-tucked Canada's shirt and ran his hand slowly up the soft flesh of his prey's stomach.
"What if someone were to walk in?"
An almost evil smirk formed on France's face, one that Canada could feel against neck and it caused the younger one to shiver slightly. "Then they will be graced with a sight that angels envy."
The nearly blasphemous remark was uttered so sensually that Canada had to close his eyes as a tremble ran up his spine. France took this as sign of defeat the hand that had been traveling up the flatness of Canada's torso finally reached the North American's slightly peaked nipples, and with an almost lazy rhythm the European swirled the tip of his finger against Canada's nipple.
This act was timed to delicately and with such leisurely swipes that Canada found it almost torturous and was moaning lowly, his head bent over, hair covered half of his flushed face and France's hand keeping him from falling to the ground. "You respond quickly to me." France said against Canada's ear, arrogance for his technique apparent in his low voice.
It wasn't until France's hand was dipping down past the band of Canada's underwear did the bespectacled country realize that France had unbuttoned his pants and was going for his vital region. When those long fingers ran against the tip of Canada's already swollen head the younger one twitched almost violently at the stimulating motion.
France was enjoying himself grandly, to say the least. He always adored touching his Canada, and never regretted that he got the shy one as opposed to his brash twin brother. He knew that although painfully bashful Canada was, deep down, just like him and could be just as much as a rogue as himself.
Presently Canada was making the most delicious moan as France stroked the young countries throbbing dick, and it only excited the older nation more. It didn't take long for France to quicken his speed. Canada's manhood was hot and slick in the blonde's hand as he gripped it ferociously, doing his best to pump the bespectacled man's passion to its climax. It didn't take too long and within a matter of moment's Canada's moist mouth opened into an almost perfect 'O' to let out his loudest and most arousing moan yet.
Canada relaxed in France's arms, but before he could fully experience that blissful tranquilty that comes after having an orgasm, he was lifted up and then placed in the chair France had been occupying.
"Papa?" Canada said confused, but then his pants were yanked down and he felt something warm and wet licking his nearly flaccid penis. "N-no," Canada said, trying to push France's head away, but the European was persistent and would not be removed, in fact once he licked away all of his petit chou's cum, he began to relentlessly lick his way up Canada's newly aroused cock. Canada' did make small noises of resistance, but they eventually melted into adorable moans of pleasure, especially when France took him into his mouth.
Before Canada could cum a second time though France withdrew his talented mouth much to the disappointment of his lover. Before Canada could whine, though, France had placed his mouth a-top the younger ones' and after distracting him with wonderful kisses surprised his lover with the insertion of two fingers in the North American's hole. For this France received more aggressive and appreciative kisses.
Once the smaller one had been properly stretched France momentarily busied himself with releasing, from its cotton confides, his most impressive and swollen manhood. Canada gave a surprised squeak when France' head, wet with pre-cum, nudged his sensitive opening.
"Shall I?" France whispered hotly against Canada's ear.
With a nod of response France began to tenderly press his way inside of his chéri, the young nation gripping the back of the older one's shirt desperately as he felt himself being penetrated. After France had sheathed himself fully into his beautiful one, he waiting for Canada to adjust and then began to thoroughly and romantically fuck him. France's eyes were shut as he felt himself slid in and out of Canada's hot inner walls, the libidinous of it driving him nearly mad with the need to explode his seed into the one he held. No matter how many times he made love to the shy male, the novelty of it never wore off.
With a cry more passionate than that of a man going into war, France brought Canada close to him and came, letting himself burst within his trembling lover. Soon afterwards Canada cried out once more, his voice like that of a trapped bird being let loose to fly into the brightest blue sky.
They sat there, panting for awhile, still clinging to one another until France pulled away with a smile. He bent his head to kiss Canada softly on the forehead. "Je t'adore," whispered, and had Canada not already been flushed fully from the previous activity he had just been engaged with he would have blushed.
"Moi aussi," Canada returned with a tired smile, making love to France always left him feeling like a melted ice-cream cone lazily dripping down the chin of a grade-school child.
"No I do not care for that awful tomato paste you eat"
"Dude, it's not tomato paste, it's ketchup."
England rolled his eyes at America and walked into the conference room. He had just finished eating lunch with America and was already sick of the loud nation. Of course secretly the Brit found the annoying hero's ways oddly endearing, but Russia would wear a school girl outfit and bottom for China before that happened.
"Bonjour Angelterre, 'ow was your lunch?"
One of England's ridiculously bushy eyebrows twitched. "It was awful. Where were you?" the prim "gentleman" asked feigning care.
"I was sampling the most delicious cuisine that Canada has to offer," France said, slyly. England rolled his eyes; he did not want to know; though France could have really been eating Canadian food. Still everything that frog said seemed to be an innuendo somehow, some way.
England sat down in his chair and then frowned. Why was his seat wet? He stood up and looked down to see a suspicious white substance on his chair.
"Dude did you leave an ice-cream cone on your chair?" America asked. England was about to reply that no, he did not do such a careless thing but the loud country has already dipped a finger in the white stuff and placed it in his mouth.
America's face scrunched up. "Dude it tastes like jizz."
England's face paled considerably and he turned to the perverted frog. "Frog, where is Canada?"
A smirk that was way to full of satisfaction was on the pouf's face and it did nothing for England's fear. "'e 'ad an accident during lunch and 'ad to go 'ome," the blonde replied.
It was silent for a moment as England processed this and then-
BAM!
England had lunged at France and they were now tossing and turning on the floor, England trying to strangle to scum-bag and France trying to remove the Brit from him while laughing hysterically. America looked on confused; it had not yet donned on him what had happened.
"I'M GOING TO BLOODY MURDER YOU-"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-"
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT-"
"REVENGE, ANGELTERRE, REVENGE-"
"YOU TWAT, YOU POUF, YOU TWIT, YOU-
"VHAT IN THE VORLD IS GOING ON?"
Suddenly France and England found themselves separated and being held up by the collar at the hands of a very angry Germany.
England glared daggers at France who still looked amused but due to his fear of Germany had ceased laughing.
"Vell?"
"Well Hasslehoff," America began, "England got all mad at France cuz there's jizz on his seat."
"Vhat is jizz?" Germany asked, confused, not even bothering to reprimand America for his distasteful racial profiling.
"It's cum."
Germany paled.
"France," the strict man said once he had recovered form shock. "Apologize to England, England don't kill France," Germany instructed and then walked away to be bothered by a very buoyant Italy.
"Well," England said,
"Well what?"
"I'm waiting."
"And I'm hungry," France said and went over to his seat. "Let's hurry up and get this over with, I didn't get enough during lunch and want some more Canadian meat, except maybe with some maple syrup this time."
"You vile-" England began but was cut off by Switzerland who had no tolerance for wasting time, and so the chaotic world conference of the day was picked up where it left off before lunch.
A/N: Damn that went on longer than anticipated. Anywho if you're curious I can send you the link for the aforementioned photo. Please review