This Fic is Dedicated to Bait and Switch Who only just managed to get back on Fanfiction after her parents filtered it. This is a welcome back present and also, the first fic for the community I'm now in~
Why had America had to ask him such a stupid question!
Arthur, also the nation of England, felt his face heat up with embarrassment. Stupid America, there was no way he had those feelings towards that person of all people.
"What is it Alfred?" Arthur sighed, folding his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. They only had a five minuet breather before the next half of the meeting, and he'd been hoping to get a drink of water in the time, but America had asked for a word.
"Well me and Matty were just wondering, and he said I should ask you, Are you in love with France?"
That had been the question, and of course he had replied in the negative; but why did he feel so awful for having done so?
He let his eyes flick towards the man next to him at the conference table.
Francis was passing notes backwards and forwards between himself, Spain, and Prussia; grinning at one of them every now and then.
He suppose Francis was quite good looking, well it was unsurprising really; he was the country of love after all.
Of course Arthur preferred it when Francis tied his hair back, preferably in one of those pretty blue ribbons; and he needed to shave.
Suddenly Francis started, noticing that Arthur was staring at him.
He pulled a face, though seemed surprised when Arthur looked away again very suddenly.
There was the sound of a scuttle of paper, and Arthur found a crumpled note land under his nose.
Knowing full well who it was from Arthur knew he shouldn't really open it; it could have all sort of obscenities in it, but he did so anyway.
Why are you looking at me?
Giving an almost audible growl, he picked up his pen and scribbled back quickly.
Of course I'm not staring at you bastard frog; I was just looking around when you looked up.
He tossed the note back, crossing his arms so Francis knew that he was offended that he'd even asked such a silly question.
But another note bounced back under his nose.
You were looking at me, Antonio said you were.
Making a metal note to kill the Spanish idiot later, Arthur hurried another note back.
That stupid Spaniard is too busy looking at Italy's brother to know what else he's seeing in a room.
As he batted that note in Francis' direction, he told himself that if another landed that he wouldn't reply to it. He was just encouraging him, if he wanted Francis to leave him alone he just had to ignore him.
Another note landed on the table in front of him.
After a short inner struggle, Arthur opened the note. Just because he wasn't going to reply to it didn't mean he couldn't read it.
Don't tell me you were checking me out?~
"Like I would being doing that you perverted French Frog!" Arthur was on his feet, he threw the crumpled note as hard as he could at Francis' head. How dare he think something like that! And how dare it be slightly true...
That was all they needed to trigger a fight.
"Well Big Brother just doesn't know how desperate you are" Francis smirked, ready when Arthur lunged at him.
Arthur soon found himself shouting all sorts of insults, and trying to land a punch on the French nation. When had Francis gotten so good at dodging his fists!
"Sit down!" He heard Germany faintly shouting at them; but nothing else mattered than assuring Francis how much he hated him, just in case he thought that his wind-up remark was actually true.
This was all Alfred's fault for making him confused in the first place.
Then he felt someone take hold of the back of his shirt and pull him off Francis with one yank. Gilbert had pulled him off Francis, most likely with a nod from his brother; because the Eastern German usually enjoyed a good fight during World Summit meetings.
Francis got to his feet, dusting himself off; smirking.
Arthur found himself struggling against Gilbert's hold, he just wanted to hit that stupid smirk off the bastard!
"Will you two stop fighting!" Germany barked from a little further up the table, "or I will make you swap seats with someone!"
They had tried a rearranging of seats once, but that had backfired when Francis had made a scathing remark at Arthur's opinion about something, and the Brit had dived across the table to punch him; knocking everything else off the table in the process.
They were France and England; they were meant to fight, that was just how it was.
Arthur shook his head quickly, he didn't want a relationship with Francis; he spent his life criticising people who did want one with him. After all you'd have to either be out of your mind or incredibly desperate.
Sitting back in his seat, Arthur choice to stare hard at the desk instead; sticking his pen in his mouth to occupy himself.
Then he began to ponder, why would someone want a relationship with Francis... He supposed he was attractive, and as rumour went he was good in bed. But, Arthur tried to concentrate harder on the pen, there was something else. Francis was the one who was always there to pull him out of a mess at the end of things, he'd always been there.
For just a moment, and a moment too long; Arthur let himself wonder what it would be like to be dating the French nation.
In that one moment the most vivid thoughts and images ran through his head, that his stomach gave a small twist and he thought he was about to be sick, but not in a bad way.
….Did he want Francis to do those things to him?
No, of course he didn't!
Arthur tried a different train of thought, trying to remind himself of why only idiots dated Francis.
He had too much stubble, he was perverted, he cheated on his partners with multiple people, he never ran a relationship longer than a month; and he always dumped his partners in the most horrible way. That was enough to put you off surely.
Besides Francis wouldn't consider him even if Arthur did want him.
Everyone Francis had dated was good looking, if not perfect. Arthur was far from that, and of course Francis hated him.
"What do you think England?" Arthur was brought back to the present when Francis prodded him, alerting him to Germany's question. Everyone was looking at him.
"A-About what?" Arthur stammered, incredibly embarrassed at the fact he hadn't been listening.
He made sure to listen as Germany re-explained what they were talking about.
When the meeting finished, everyone was rather grumpy with him; because it had turned out that Germany's initial topic had taken quite a long time to cover.
He took his time packing up his files, hoping everyone else had gone off in the direction of their respective hotels by now.
He was last out of the conference room, so closed the door behind him. When he turned around again, he found Francis standing right in front of him.
"W-What the hell are you doing you Frog!" Arthur pressed himself up against the door, trying to get as much space as possible between him and Francis.
He tensed when Francis put his hand to his forehead, "are you ill?" He asked suspiciously,
"Why would I be ill!" Arthur demanded, pushing Francis away from him.
"You were just acting weird in the conference that's all, you made us all have to sit through Germany's boring talk again," Francis glanced away, rubbing the back of his head; with an obvious 'don't care' look on his face.
"Alfred just said something weird during the break that's all" Arthur shrugged, feeling for some odd reason he should at least explain part of the story to the Frenchman.
He began walking towards the exit, a little shocked when Francis fell into step beside him.
"What did he say?" He asked curiously, though Arthur thought he caught a strange tone behind the question.
Well Arthur certainly wasn't going to tell him.
He sped up, signalling for a taxi.
"Which hotel are you staying at?" Francis asked, still standing beside him,
"The new place just outside the city" Arthur replied, knowing he'd chosen it specially because it would be unlikely the others would stay there.
"Me too," Arthur's plans just shattered. At first he didn't believe the Frenchman, but Francis showed him his keys with the hotel's logo on, "we can split the cab fare."
The taxi journey passed in silence. Arthur tried to focus on the view outside the window, but he thoughts had somehow gone back to that momentary thought in the meeting.
His face was blushing deep red, and he was trying desperately to think of something else, but with Francis almost touching him in the seat next to him it was almost impossible.
When the taxi driver stopped, Arthur paid his half of the fare in a flurry, and tried to make a run for the hotel.
But again, Francis caught up with him.
"So what was it you and Alfred were talking about?" That tone was back in his voice again, but this time it was a little stronger.
"Nothing" Arthur dismissed, choosing to use the stairs; hopefully the Frog would use the elevator. But Francis seemed determined on following him.
"It clearly wasn't nothing, if you missed such a long speech thinking about it," Francis' tone sounded irritated now, was he that angry about having to hear the speech twice?
"Look, I'm tired, can't you just drop it?" Arthur turned sharply down his corridor; hurrying towards his room.
"Too tired for a nice bottle of something?"
That stopped Arthur in his tracks. "What's nice about it?"
"Ten year old Red" Francis grinned, knowing he had hold of him now.
For a few seconds Arthur hesitated, "fine, but I'll just have a glass or two."
He followed Francis up to his room, and one glass soon turned into three, then he'd drunk almost three-quarters of the bottle himself.
"So," Francis uncorked another bottle, pouring Arthur another inviting glass, "this conversation you had with Alfred?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes, "I thought I told you to drop it, I'll pass out before I'm drunk enough to tell you!"
Francis pulled the glass away with a glare, just as Arthur was about to take it. "Fine, no point letting you drink all this nice wine then," he emptied the glass himself; before putting the bottle away back in the fridge.
Arthur watched it go with an irritated expression, "you'd already opened the bottle" he protested.
"If you just want to get drunk, you can drink some of the shit they have in the mini bar!" Francis suddenly snapped, his blue eyes blazing.
Feeling his head spin a little with the drink, Arthur got to his feet. "Your the one that must have a fever!" He shouted, "one minuet you invite me in here for a drink, then you're taking the bottle away! Make up your mind already!" He shouted, aware that he'd probably just woken up Francis' neighbours.
"I just want you to tell me what Alfred said to you, that isn't so hard is it!" Francis demanded, taking a step closer.
"Why do you want to know so much!" This was what was confusing Arthur about the whole predicament; why would Francis care what he and Alfred had to say to each other.
This question only seemed to annoy the Frenchman more, because he made to swing his fist at him. Arthur dodged, taking step backwards.
"Getting old are you?" He teased, unable to resist the jibe. Rather pleased with himself that he'd managed to dodge Francis' fist; he wasn't the only one who was losing his touch.
Frustrated at his miss, Francis made another swing for him; it missed again.
"Why won't you just tell me!" He growled,
"Why do you want to know!" Arthur yelled back, taking another step back, "you don't need to know everything about my life, I can take care of myself!"
He'd clearly said the wrong thing. Francis seemed both enraged and amused by this.
"You? Take care of yourself?" Francis moved closer to him, "since when?"
Feeling his irritation growing at this Arthur clenched his fists, "Of course I can take care of myself!"
Everything seemed to happen in a flash.
Francis pushed him backwards with both hands.
For a moment Arthur thought he was going to hit the floor, but then felt himself hit the soft covers of the bed. Francis must be more of a lightweight than him if he thought that was going to hurt.
Arthur scooted back on the bed, processing what was happening.
The next moment he was forced down into the sheets, with both his hands pinned either side of his head by his wrists, with Francis straddling his waist.
"How is this taking care of yourself?" Francis smirked, "I could have done a lot worse than this by now."
Arthur flushed, turning his face away, "I knew you wouldn't do anything; hitting you would have been a waste of energy," he didn't want to have to admit that Francis had taken him by surprise.
"How do you know that?" Francis questioned, lowering his face closer to Arthur's, "I might still do it now."
Feeling his heart beginning to pound, Arthur's mind went back to his imaginings. But he managed to bring himself back to protest, "stupid pervert, let me up now!"
"Only if you tell me what Alfred wanted to talk to you about," Francis was grinning like a Cheshire cat now.
Stuck between the bear and the cliff, Arthur swallowed.
Fighting the shiver that was threatening down his spine. Who'd have known Francis being so close to him like this would make him react in such a way.
Francis was waiting for his answer, when he gathered that one wasn't coming he sighed. "Fine just answer me this, did he kiss you?"
"What!" Arthur was completely taken aback, "Of course not!"
"Did he ask you out?" Francis pressed, a little surprised himself at the answer.
"No!" Arthur snapped, managing to prop himself up slightly, wishing that Francis would remove his knee from so close to his lower regions. "Nothing like that, he was asking me about somebody... I mean something different," Arthur bit his lip, he was an idiot.
"So who was he asking you about?"
It was just question after question with Francis.
"For God sake!" Arthur finally lost it, "he asked me if I love YOU!"
Francis' mouth dropped open, his eyes widening. "What?"
Taking Francis' shock as a sign of disgust, Arthur reassured him quickly, "don't worry, of course I told him I wasn't, he was just being stupid as always," he laughed uncomfortably.
He felt the bed shift as Francis got off him, sitting on the edge of the bed, with his back to Arthur. But Arthur could see his hands were clenched into fists on his lap.
Hesitating forwards, Arthur touched his hand briefly on Francis' shoulder, "are you okay?"
"Of course I am stupid Brit" Francis waved at him, "go back to your own room; sorry about the misunderstanding."
Feeling like his feet were behaving on their own accord, Arthur got off the bed and left the room; heading back down the corridor to his own room.
He didn't really understand what had just happened. Shouldn't Francis have been relieved that he wasn't in love with him; after all it would just be a pain for the French nation if he knew someone like him was in love with him...
Arthur sighed, glancing at himself in the mirror.
He had a pathetic childish face, and eyebrows he'd never grown into; plus he was small and scrawny, nothing compared to the body that Francis boasted of when he wore those tight fitting clothes.
Turning away from the mirror he changed into his pyjamas, and climbed into bed.
Hopefully it would all be forgotten by morning.