Of Fairies and Pirate Hats, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

Of Fairies and Pirate Hats

Knocking on the Englishman's door, Francis did not wait to be answered and let himself in, looking around the rather bland room. He quirked an eyebrow and continued into the house and called out, "Arthur? Mon cher~ Where have you hidden yourself this time?"

If Arthur had not been occupied with trying to boil water for his tea while arguing loudly with a fairy, he probably would've heard the Frenchman calling out for him. "Get off it!" He said, trying to swat the little pixie away, ignoring her protests.

"Arthur?" Francis poked his head into the kitchen and arched an eyebrow, Arthur and a small purple fairy were apparently having a fight and a sly grin crept onto his face, "Are you speaking to thin air again mon amant?"

Wheeling around, Arthur swore loudly, clutching his chest. "Fuck! France? What did I say about sneaking up on me?" He breathed, scowling, "And no, like I've said a hundred times before I'm talking to my fairies." He turned back to the counter, staring at the steam slowly rising out of the kettle.

The blonde walked up behind the flustered man and gave a wink to the little fairy. He spoke quietly as he leaned closer to Arthur's ear, "Such language Arthur- Unfitting for such a gentleman, non?"

Elbowing the Frenchman, Arthur continued to glower at the pot. "Gentleman my ass." Now he was stuck with a fairy who refused to leave him alone (what was she gambling on about anyway?)and a frog. Here he had been planning to spend the day reading and now he would have to spend it trying to get Francis out of his house. "I'll say whatever I want."

Francis grunted slightly but continued to smile and chuckled a bit, playing mind games on Arthur was somewhat of a passion of his. "Are you reverting to your delinquency days mon cher?" He sidestepped to avoid being elbowed again and smirked at the irritated Englishman and continued, "Your pirate outfit is most- interesting, oui? I do not think I would mind-"

"Stop. Don't even say it." Arthur said, facing the Frenchman, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. "What are you doing here anyway?" He asked, eyes flicking to his shoulder as the fairy took a seat on his sweater vest, tugging at his ear, trying to get him to listen. He ignored it.

"I was in the ze neighborhood and I thought I would come and visit, " In reality Francis actually took a plane, then a cab ride to get here, but he wasn't going to admit that he just wanted to spend some time with his favorite Englishman, "Isn't zat nice of me Arthur?"

Arthur scoffed. "You hate this city. I hardly imagine you were 'in ze neighborhood'," he said, doing a poor imitation of the French accent. The kettle whistled and pulled it off the stove, pouring it into a small cup, dropping a teabag in after it.

Francis pouted slightly and crossed his arms, "You silly Englishman. I do not -hate- your city... I just prefer to stay dry and London seems to have a constant drizzle to it... non?" The fun was starting to drain out of his plan, accursed tea taking Arthur's attention.

"And maybe I moved here so you'd stay away." Arthur muttered into his teacup, taking a long drink. In his ear, the fairy said something about Francis and he quirked his head, the mention of the Frenchman's name piquing his curiosity. "What do you mean you know him?" He whispered as if France wasn't standing in front of him. "That's idiotic."

Gulping slightly Francis chuckled nervously, "Talking to yourself mon cher? I fear for your sanity..." Merde- He had trusted the little one to keep his secret but apparently she was more inclined to ruin him than help him. Tricky little things fairies are.

Staring at Francis and the nervous smile he wore only when he was very anxious, Arthur slowly worked through what the fairy was telling him, a smile spreading across his face. "Oh." He said, grinning wolfishly, "Talking to myself, am I? I don't think so France."

"What are you talking about Arthur?" Francis smiled wider and shook his head, "Tu es foul oui?" Arthur's grin was unnerving, but the Frenchman was more stubborn than that and refused to admit that he could, indeed, see fairies. He actually had been able to see them before England came around, where did Arthur think he came up with those fairy tales he told the youngster as a child?

"What am I talking about?" Arthur asked, taking a step towards the Frenchman, the hand holding his teacup shaking slightly. His eyebrow began to twitch, wondering how he had never figured it out before. "I think you could answer the same question." He poked France in the chest, "You knew."

"Mon Dieu, I don't even know what you are accusing me of Arthur... Please regain your sanity!" Francis started to back up, but bumped into a counter. He tried to maintain his composure, but his self-preservation instincts were telling him to get away from this Englishman.

Arthur was sure the smile on his face was slightly mad, but he didn't care. After all these years of constant mockery and snide comments, he was finally going to be able to exact his revenge. "You can see her." He stated, gesturing at the pixie sitting on his shoulder, who was humming happily, watching the two countries, "Can't you?"

"Who? There is someone on your shoulder mon cher? Truly, you have a mental condition..." Francis was sidestepping away from the grinning man in attempt to escape the beating he was surely going to receive. That smug little fairy was going to get it after this- She had promised not to tell if he gave her some of his wine!

"You can see her." Arthur repeated, following France, not letting him out of his sight for even a second. "She knows things about you that you haven't told anyone save me. They're not very good secret keepers, are they?" He cackled slightly at the end of his sentence.

Cursing quietly in french, Francis avoided looking at the fairy who was quietly giggling at the scene. "I-I 'ave no idea what you are speaking about Arthur..." He made his way around the green-eyed man so his back faced the door out, his escape.

Glancing between the open door and Francis, Arthur wondered if he was going to be able to catch Francis if he ended up fleeing. But he really didn't feel like running. He felt like exacting revenge. He looked down at his cup of steaming tea, then back at France.

Barely catching the quick glance, Francis eyes widened. He wouldn't, would he? "Mon Dieu, Arthur... S'il vous plait- don't! I admit! I can see them! P-please! This is my best shirt!" He waved his hands in front of him and gave Arthur an apologetic smile in attempts to stop him.

Arthur ran a finger along the rim of his cup. "Say it again." He said quietly, dipping his finger into the tea and holding it threateningly, "Admit that you're a lying French bastard."

More afraid for the safety of his expensive clothing than his own pride Francis allowed his shoulders to shrug and the smile fade from his face. "D'accord! I-I lied, oui? Now please... set down the tea before anything gets stained..."

"Ah, ah ah!" Arthur sang, brandishing his finger, loving the power he held over Francis for a rare moment in his life "You didn't finish~ Say it. 'I am a lying French bastard'." He pronounced each word with a deliberate slowness, trying to squeeze as much pleasure out of the situation as possible.

Francis's eyes narrowed and he glared at the offending finger. "I'm a lying French bastard..." He grumbled as he pursed his lips together. Damn himself for wearing his favorite shirt today.

Grinning, Arthur put his finger in his mouth, licking the tea off. "Brilliant," He said, fixing Francis with the sweetest of smiles, "Now, who will we tell first... Alfred? Or maybe Germany..."

"Non! Arthur please-" Francis begged with him with wide eyes, it was bad enough he had to give into the proud Englishman, if Alfred discovered it he would never hear the end of it! "S'il vous plait mon cher... Just keep it between us? I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" He asked, his world suddenly a lot brighter. "Are you sure?"

Swallowing thickly Francis quickly regretted his words. "Well- I mean- Keep it reasonable... oui?" He crossed his arms in front of him in attempt to keep some of his dignity.

"Oh c'mon Francis~" Arthur said, taking another step towards France. "When was the last time you did something reasonable?"

Francis glared at the Englishman, not quite sure what he had in mind but sure that it was something either painful or embarrassing. "Fine mon cher- What is it?"

Giggling slightly-school girlishly, England walked until he was only a few inches away from France. "I do remember you meaning something about pirates."

Refusing to flinch, Francis stayed his ground and quirked an eyebrow at the man merely inches from him. "Pirates?" The blonde was even more confused than before.

"You were so eager to see me in my old ensemble." Arthur said, lowering his voice, "What about you? You had some times on the high seas, didn't you~?"

"Oui... I did..." Francis smirked slightly, hoping this was going where he thought it was. Their pirate days were very- fun, to put it lightly. "What of it mon cher?"

Grinning, Arthur gently touched Francis hair, tugging at a golden curl. "You still got your old hat kicking around?"

"Oui, zat is back at my place though so it will do us little good here." Francis chuckled at Arthur's touch and grinned wider.

"That's too bad." Arthur said, setting his cup down on the counter, "But might have an extra lying around upstairs..." He started to walk towards the stairs.

Francis found himself a little flabbergasted at Arthur but followed him eagerly, increasingly interested on where exactly this was going. He kept quiet as he walked behind the Englishman.

Arthur led Francis into the bedroom, and strode over to his closet, opening the door. "It's in there somewhere~" He said, gesturing vaguely into closet's interior, "I'll just be over here, getting ready." He sat down his bed, watching Francis.

Grumbling slightly Francis entered in the dusty, cluttered closet and looked around for a light. "Mon cher, where is ze light in here?" It was unusually dark and he couldn't see much.

Laughing, Arthur got to his feet and closed t door, quickly locking it. "I'm not sure Francis, but I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to find it while I go and call the entire world. And you're not getting out of there until you admit to seeing fairies~"

"Merde! Arthur!" Francis quickly turned around and pounded on the door, sighing frustratedly. "I already admitted!" He pounded on the door once more and called out to the fairy who had caused this entire affair, "Lauretta! Out of the decency of your heart! Help me!"

Arthur looked around for the fairy, finding her sitting on his dresser, her arms folded, fixing Arthur with a cold stare. "Oh c'mon," he said, "He deserved it! He's been lying the entire time." But Lauretta just shook her head, flying up to Arthur face and poking his nose.

The Frenchman begged pathetically once more, "Arthur... Mon cher- Please!" He had kept this secret hidden for so long, he didn't fear being called insane as much as a liar. He had mocked Arthur for this for so long...

Arthur stalked over to the door, reluctantly flipping the lock and opening the door. But as he did so, Lauretta -and a few more of her friends would appeared from behind Arthur's headboard- pushed him into the closet.

Francis let out a quiet 'oof' as he caught the Englishman on his chest and fell back into a line of clothes. He saw the little fairy wave and smile at him before the door quickly closed, leaving him very alone, in a very dark closet, with Arthur. "So, zat light Arthur?"

Muttering a steady stream of curses, Arthur pushed himself off Francis, waving his arms around until he found the light switch and flicked it on. The light bulb buzzed into life and he tried the door, but found it was locked. "Fucking fairies..." He said, pressing his ear to the door, listening to the quiet voices. "F-Francis... I think... I think they want to talk to you."

"To moi?" Francis stood up and fixed his clothing, mimicking Arthur and straining to listen through the door. He could only hear quick and quiet chattering, unable to form coherent words out of the fairies talk, "I can barely hear them, what are they saying Arthur?"

"I can't make it out..." Arthur said quietly, "I think they're speaking French."

Francis grumbled again and pressed his ear to the door harder in a crude attempt to hear better, he managed to hear them a little better. "Lauretta said something about an apology to me for telling." The Frenchman let a small smirk appear on his face as he pieced together the rest of the quiet murmurs. "I think I may like were this is going-"

"Bullshit." Arthur said, "You could be lying! No way in hell am I going to apologize to you, you French git." but part of his mind was telling him Francis wasn't lying.

The smirk on his face was growing and he moved away from the door, staring intently at Arthur. "I do have you in here, alone... All to myself, oui?" Francis grinned and chuckled quietly to himself.

Arthur quickly backed away, forgetting for a moment that they were in a closet until his back contacted shelves and he stopped. "Don't come any closer." He breathed, his voice shaking slightly.

At that moment Francis eyes glanced upward and he burst out laughing, quickly grabbing and placing Arthur's old and dusty pirate hat on top of his head, "But this is what you wanted, non?" He gave the green-eyed man a quick wink as he closed the space between them.

Blushing, Arthur brought his hands up, touching the hat. "You were the one supposed to be wearing it." He grumbled, realizing just how small the closet really was.

A predatory grin appeared instantly on Francis' face and he chuckled again. "Oui, but now you are the one that is apologizing to me, non?"

"For what?" Arthur said, "I only locked you in a closet... surely I've done worse." He said, meeting the Frenchman's blue eyes.

"Oui, you have mon amant-" Francis trailed one of his fingers along Arthur's chin and decreased the space between them even more, "But it's not often zat I find myself locked in a closet with you, so why not take advantage of it?"

Automatically, Arthur leaned forward, letting his hands drop from the hat. "I think last time we were in a closet," he said quietly, "was at that World Conference, when Roderich walked in on us." His lips twitch as the memory of the Austrian dumbstruck face came to mind.

Chuckling softly at the memory, Francis gently held the Englishman's chin in his hand, "Well no one will walk in this time... oui?" They were close enough that Francis could feel the heat radiating from Arthur's body and he smiled wider.

"You never know..." Arthur breathed, feeling Francis' breath on his lips, "Alfred could walk in at any moment."

Tired of the delay, Francis pressed his lips to Arthur's and slid his hand around Arthur's waist. He slightly parted his lips and traced his tongue along the other's lower lip, silently asking for entrance.

Gasping slightly in surprise, Arthur opened his lips, pressing his body into Francis, hoping his hat wasn't going to get in the way. His arms wrapped around France's neck, pulling him closer.

Francis' free hand tilted the intruding frilly hat out of the way and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue inside of Arthur's mouth. He smirked into the kiss, all of Arthur's resistance to him had seemed to melt away.

Arthur ran his hand through the long blond hair, tugging it out of the ponytail. He was sure that behind the door, he could hear the fairies cackling, but he didn't carefully, his attention much more focused on the Frenchman.

Breaking away for a quick breath, Francis whispered against Arthur's lips, "Do you forgive me mon amant...?" His voice came out breathy and husky. He would definitely have to thank those fairies for this later.

"Not yet..." He said quietly, panting lightly, "You have to forgive me first you bastard." He nibbled Francis' lower lip, eager to continue.

Francis chuckled slightly before placing a chaste kiss on the Englishman's lips and looking at him, "You should know I do not hold grudges mon cher. All is forgiven with you..." Arthur was such an insufferable man, always insisting on getting his own way, how childish.

Arthur tangled his fingers in Francis hair, staring at him. "Only you could make sound so goddamn romantic." He shook his head, pouting slightly.

Insisting on getting properly forgiven, Francis repeated, "So am I forgiven? Or are you just going to continue to act like a child?" The Frenchman tightened his hold on Arthur's waist and smiled happily at him.

"I am not a child..." Arthur huffed, "Fine. I forgive you Francis. There, are you happy now?"

Accepting this was the best he would get out of the child of an Englishman, the blonde pressed his lips against Arthur's once more. He attempted to run his hand through Arthur's hair but found the hat to be in his way.

Arthur smiled against the kiss, reaching up and pulling the hat off. "It's very... extravagant." He said, casting it aside.

"Not as extravagant as those gold earrings you used to be so fond of..." France muttered. Moving downward, the Frenchman started to place light kisses on Arthur's jaw and neck.

"I loved those thing..." Arthur gasped, clutching at Francis' hair, his head leaning back, pushing into a pile of folded clothes. "I think I gave them to Elizaveta as a birthday present a few years back..."

Wincing slightly at his hair being pulled, Francis pulled Arthur back up to face him and raised an eyebrow at him. "You are going to let a pair of earrings distract you from-from this?" Pouting, the blond let go of Arthur and folded his arms in front of him. Stupid Englishman.

Arthur's arms continued to hang off Francis neck. How could the Frenchman go from so romantic to pissed off? And he was supposed to be the moody one? "You brought it up." He said, leaning forward, whispering into his ear, "It's your fault."

Francis was more insulted that Arthur could so quickly get distracted from his ministrations. He felt a shiver run through him and he sighed, returning to peppering Arthur's neck in kisses as he slowly wrapped his hands around the Englishman's waist again.

Humming happily, Arthur kept his lips at Francis ear, continuing to whisper in it, "Were you jealous because I said someone else's name?" He asked, kissing the blonde's temple, "Never thought you to be the jealous type."

"Incredibly mon cher." Francis moved onto kissing Arthur's ear and whispered quietly into it, "I just hide it well, non?"