"Come any closer and I will slap you."
"Go right ahead, love." Francois rolled his eyes. "You sick sadomasochist. Have you no shame?" Oliver pouted. "I'm not a sadomasochist. Maybe a little bit of a sadist, but I only take pain from you." Francois scoffed. "Only a little? I find that hard to believe. I was watching a show on car crashes the other day and Allen was just staring and the screen, laughing and saying 'Burn! Burn, you fools!'" "That's not my fault, poppet, he's been like that since I found him. He's...special." "Oui," he replied, "a special kind of fucked up." "Francois..." "Do you deny it?" Oliver took a moment to ponder. "Well, no but-" "Exactly. I see why, too. You're pretty fucked up yourself." "Oh really?" The strawberry blonde nation folded his arms. "How so?" "You'll murder someone violently but refuse to say so much as damn, for starters." "I prefer to not be vulgar. And for the record, put three euros in the swear jar, poppet." "I'll do no such thing, ma chère." "You just called me a girl." "I invented French and I've been speaking it for hundreds of years, Oliver. I know what I said."
Francois smirked as Oliver puffed up his cheeks. "Anyways, you were telling me about why I'm fudged up." "Right. Secondly, do you ever look in the mirror? Powder blue and hot pink? What the fuck were you going for, 'I got dressed in the dark'?" "I like it." "Precisely. Only someone like you could like wearing colours that make your eyes hurt. Or is that just part of your sadistic tendacies?" "I thought you didn't care about fashion, Mr. I Slept In This." "I don't. That doesn't mean I'm oblivious to your fashion sense, or lack thereof." "Move on." "Okay. Thirdly, you drug your cupcakes." "I do not." "Yes you do. You go around with your cutesy ass cupcakes, offering them to people then they wake up in the middle of nowhere. You did it before." "Only because I didn't like those people." "That's still messed up." "Don't tell me you never did something like that." "I never said I didn't. But we are talking about you." He went on before Oliver could object.
"Fourthly, I know that you're a little witch." "What?" "Don't think I didn't know that you cast spells. I saw that symbol you drew on the ground under your mat downstairs in your house." "That's invasion of privacy." "Maybe so. That doesn't change the fact. I saw what pages you have bookmarked in your spellbook too. How to summon a unicorn? Why? What the hell could you possibly need a unicorn for?" "They're cute..." "You are so gay it's unbelievable." "You have no right to say that. How many guys have you slept with this year?" "You expect me to remember?" "That's sad, you know." "You've been one of those guys on multiple occasions!" "My point still stands. Have you got a last reason, just to square it off?" "As a matter of fact, I do.
"Lastly, Oliver, you keep trying to fuck me." "I do not. I have only chaste intentions." "Yeah right. And I haven't smoked in a week." "What's so wrong with wanting that anyways?" "The way you go about it is what's wrong. You put a love potion in my cupcakes. Don't think I don't notice. And I hear when you whisper stuff in my ear as a sleep and I feel when you kiss me." Oliver blushed. "Y-yet you never say anything?" "I let you have your fun." "Oh..." "Despite how creepy that should be for me, I'm not exactly the most normal person myself, so that's actually kind of cute, in a weird way." "Really?" Francois shrugged. "Sure." Oliver glomped him. "Oliver, I will burn you." He giggled.
"That's okay, poppet, love hurts."
A/N: A little 2p!FrUK for you guys. I might do a next chapter with Allen. If you want to see that, leave a comment. I only need to hear that one person wants it so that I'll be inspired to bother to write it.
