"So, since we're going to eat, is this a date?" Francis asked, smirking at the Brit who was driving. Not taking his eyes from the road, Arthur scowled.
"No," he replied simply. "I'm going to get a chocolate frosty and some fries while you are going to get nothing."
Francis pouted and then grabbed the wheel, swerving the car just before it collided with another. Arthur might be good at driving a car on British streets but he certainly needed to work on his American driving skills.
"Mon ami," Francis said in a shaky voice. "You told me you knew how to drive in America."
"I do, you bloody git," Arthur snapped. "I just forgot for a moment," he added in a mumble.
Arthur pulled up in the drive-through at Wendy's and ordered in a sharp voice. It's not like I'm going to eat any of that fatty McDonald's food, Arthur had said earlier. Francis sighed. Even though he and Arthur had come to stay at Alfred's house for a few days, Arthur's mood had only gotten worse.
Russia, along with North Korea, was getting ready to conquer the entire globe. That much they knew. No matter how much all the countries pleaded, Ivan had completely lost his grasp on sanity. He had also told them that he intended to strike England first, to prevent England's forces from joining the battle.
Despite Arthur's protests, Francis had dragged him away to America, where several countries were meeting to discuss what to do to either prevent a third world war or make sure that Ivan lost. Francis had thought Arthur would loosen up around Alfred and the mild-mannered Matthew, who had come down to visit. Arthur, however, had only grown more tense and moody, snapping at everyone.
How Francis had convinced Arthur to go see a movie that day, much less let Francis come along, was still a mystery. It had been an interesting movie and Arthur had gotten so absorbed in the plot that not even Francis's teasing distracted him. The salty smell of French fries snapped Francis from his thoughts.
"Do I get some?" Francis asked, already reaching toward the fries. Arthur slapped his hand away and Francis pulled it back, frowning.
"No," Arthur managed through a mouthful of chocolate and fries. "These are just for me. You bloody well know how I get when I'm hungry!" Francis smiled at that.
"You turn into a bitch," he replied calmly. Arthur growled but didn't say anything else.
The rest of the car ride was filled with music from the radio. Arthur sang along when his mouth wasn't full and Francis found himself amused at Arthur's British accent.
"Something funny, frog?" Arthur demanded, stopping in the middle of a song. Francis tried to put on a serious face.
"Of course not," he answered but, in the end, couldn't keep the grin off his face. As Arthur hit his shoulder, hard, Francis burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but your accent singing those American songs made me smile!"
"Well, stop smiling," Arthur snapped, the barest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "It's not funny." Francis snorted.
"Of course not!" he said, nodding, but kept laughing. Arthur's cheeks colored further and he didn't speak for the rest of the car ride.
Pulling into Alfred's driveway with a sharp jerk, Arthur stopped the car in its designated spot and got out, ignoring Francis who was still trying to apologize for laughing at him.
"Dude, you're back!" Alfred exclaimed as Arthur walked through the front door. Alfred gathered Arthur into a large hug and the smaller nation found that he couldn't escape.
"Get off, America! You're smothering me!" Arthur said gruffly and Alfred released him, still grinning.
"How'd you like the movie?" Alfred asked, waving to Francis as he followed Arthur in.
"It was okay," Arthur replied nonchalantly. Francis laughed and Arthur resisted the urge to turn around and punch the man in the face.
"He was so into the movie that I couldn't distract him from it!" Francis told Alfred, laying a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I think it was good for him though." Arthur shrugged Francis's hand off and nodded to Matthew who was finishing up making some maple cookies in the kitchen.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to retire to my room," Arthur said as casually as he could. "I suddenly have a terrible headache and am exhausted. Please do not disturb me." Before any of the three countries could say a thing, Arthur walked up the stairs.
Arthur closed the door behind him and then flopped on the king sized bed that had been provided for him. He was tired of Francis; Francis, who knew nothing, understood nothing, and didn't care to. Arthur sighed, burying his face in a soft white pillow. He breathed in the scent that was half Alfred and half laundry detergent. It calmed him slightly.
The attack on the world, beginning with England, could come any day now. Arthur shivered and crawled under the covers. Francis had said that coming to America would help Arthur stop thinking about what was going to happen, but how could Arthur not think about it?
Arthur could feel the tension of his people and knew that riots were about to break out. As if an imminent war wasn't bad enough. But Arthur had dealt with worse pain before. He was sure he could deal with whatever came his way. With those thoughts swirling inside his mind, Arthur fell into an uneasy sleep.
"Yo, England, you with us?" Alfred's voice jolted Arthur out of his daydreaming.
"Ah, yes," he replied, trying to remain dignified. Alfred raised an eyebrow at the man but Arthur ignored him.
"So the meeting is going to be tomorrow," Alfred continued, looking around his table at Matthew, Francis, and Arthur. "Do you already know what you're going to say?"
"Of course we have to at least try to stop this war before it begins," Francis answered matter-of-factly. Arthur, who was still not completely awake, shivered as the Frenchman's accent reached his ears. "Arthur, are you cold?" Francis asked quickly. Arthur shook his head and shoveled more food into his mouth.
Francis had cooked that night so the food was more than edible, but Arthur wasn't about to tell him that. Francis frowned and moved closer to Arthur who eyed him warily. Touching Arthur's forehead briefly, which made the man flinch, Francis's frown deepened.
"Are you feeling all right, mon ami?" Francis queried. Arthur nodded.
"I am still tired from my nap but I feel perfectly fine," he responded casually, moving away from Francis. Finishing the last bite of his meal, Arthur wiped his mouth and then cleared his throat. "I regret to inform you, however, that I will be leaving for my home in the morning. I'm afraid I will miss the meeting."
"Dude, you can't leave!" Alfred protested. "We need you to be there!" Arthur rolled his eyes.
"You already know my opinion," Arthur said dismissively. "I will do anything to prevent this war, and I do mean anything. We don't need another world war. Nevertheless, should a war begin, despite anything we do, I will also do anything, ally with anyone, provide any number of troops, to end the war as quickly as possible."
"Would you be in favor of attacking Ivan first?" Francis asked in a soft voice. Arthur thought for a moment.
"I believe that we should refrain from preventing war with war," he replied slowly. "But I will abide by whatever the other countries decide. As I said, I don't want this war to occur." Alfred, Matthew, and Francis stared at him.
"You'd be willing to ally with France?" Alfred said.
"Of course," Arthur replied without a moment's hesitation. "I've done so before and I can do it again."
"I still think that you should remain here to come to the meeting," Francis pressed. "We need your opinion."
"You already have my opinion," Arthur retorted. "Just tell them that and that will be fine. Don't worry," Arthur added. "I'm not going to let you get hurt. No matter what I have to do, even if I have to ignore you telling me not to help, I will not let you get hurt." Francis looked at Arthur.
"You think that is what this is about?" Francis questioned softly. "I care not for my safety. I just want you to be here with us, in case something should go wrong." Arthur scowled.
"If something does go wrong, I need to be with my people," Arthur snapped. "I am going home as early as I can tomorrow morning. Tell the other countries my opinions and let me know what is decided as immediately as you can." Alfred nodded.
"Will do, bro," he said, smiling grimly. "Once you make your mind up, there really is no stopping you." Arthur nodded curtly, accepting the comment, and then rose to leave.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Arthur said, picking up his dishes. "I need to pack and then get to bed. It is already late." The clock on the mantle did read 11:30PM. "I will be up a few minutes more to arrange for my voyage tomorrow and then will retire. If you need something, don't bother me."
"What time is it?" Arthur groaned groggily, poking Francis's arm. Sometime after Arthur had gone to bed, Francis had come in and, "to relieve the tension," as Francis had said, they had enjoyed a few rounds of rough sex. Afterwards, they had lain in Arthur's bed together, not speaking, just being together.
"About 2AM," Francis mumbled back. Arthur sighed.
"It's going to be your fault when they have to carry me off my plane because I'm asleep," Arthur grumbled, shifting Francis away and off of himself. He was about to attempt to get dressed but decided he didn't really want to bother getting up to do it. Besides, Francis was sure not going to get dressed any time soon.
"Or when you're so tired you don't hear your alarm," Francis returned, grinning sleepily. "Please don't leave," he added after a moment, pulling Arthur to him again.
"I am leaving, no matter what you say or do," Arthur retorted, trying to get away from Francis. "Bloody hell, France! Get off me and let me get some sleep!" Francis kissed Arthur's neck, sending shivers up and down the man's body.
"You weren't complaining less than an hour ago," Francis purred. "And why can't you just call me Francis?" Arthur mumbled something under his breath but didn't clarify, even after Francis asked.
"Just go to sleep or go to your own room," Arthur said, falling back asleep, despite wanting to throw Francis out. Francis didn't bothering replying with any more than a kiss on Arthur's cheek. "Fine then," Arthur murmured, already half asleep. "But I'm still leaving in the morning, you frog…" With that, Arthur fell asleep, France curled around him from behind.