Sometimes Arthur really hated how good-looking his boyfriend was. Sure, it was nice to have someone as handsome as the Frenchman by his side, but it wasn't so nice when the others seemed to be interested in his good looks as well.
There was a break at the world meeting and immediately Francis was surrounded by other nations. Antonio was openly flirting with him and Matthew practically clung onto his arm, though explaining it by saying that Francis was hi 'papa'. Even Kiku was always smiling when he was around the French, and bloody hell, Ludwig blushed every time Francis even smiled at the normally so formal German. Lovino didn't shout at Francis, Feliciano smiled even more than usually and Yao tried his best to flick his long hair sexily whenever Francis was looking. And the Frenchman didn't push them away, he just let them try. It was like Francis didn't even notice how the others looked at him, how badly they tried to make Francis notice them.
Arthur sighed, turning his look away. Why couldn't Francis understand how jealous he was making the Englishman? It wasn't the greatest feeling to watch everyone trying to hit on your own boyfriend.
As the meeting ended, Arthur headed to their hotel room without saying a word to anyone. He was still feeling mad at the Frenchman, and if he wanted, he could stay mad as long as he wanted.
He avoided Francis the whole evening, though it was hard thing to do in such a small room. Whenever the French tried to talk to him, he grabbed a book and pretended to be reading or just simply turned the TV louder. He knew that sooner or later Francis would ask what was wrong, and he would make the frog regret all the flirting.
Finally, it was 10 pm and the laid down on the bed, Arthur's arms crossed and huge eyebrows furrowed.
"Mon amour… You've been acting like that all day. What is wrong?" the Frenchman asked, cerulean eyes filled with concern as he looked at his lover, laying on his side.
"Hmph. You know very well what is wrong," Arthur answered, as rudely as always.
"Non, I honestly don't know," Francis said. He turned to lay on his stomach, hand reaching to play with the messy hair of the Briton.
"Don't touch me, slimy frog! Go and play with China's hair since he so nicely showed it to you!"
Francis looked at Arthur with kind of confused look on his face, one eyebrow raised. "Excuse me…?"
"Oh don't you dare to play innocent there, you twat! I saw what you did at the meeting! You flirted with every on!"
Sighing, Francis leaned in and pressed a kiss on Arthur's cheek, smiling at him softly.
"Don't be stupid, mon amour. It's not my fault that they like to flirt with me. And they have all the rights to do so-"
"They have not!"
"Cher, don't interrupt me. They have all the rights to do so, because they don't know about me and you. If they'd know, they wouldn't flirt with me. But you don't want to tell them. But even if they don't know that I am all yours, you know it, and that's all that matters, non?" the Frenchman said, the smile still playing on his lips.
For a moment Arthur thought about Francis words, then giving a small nod.
"You're right, I guess."
"Good. Now, try to sleep, mon petite lapin; we have another meeting tomorrow."
Not long after that, the two nations were sleeping soundly, arms around each other, legs tangled together.
"Try not to flirt with them today, frog," Arthur muttered as he put on his suit, trying to fix his hair.
Francis walked behind his British lover, using his hands to make the Englishman's hair look good. Sure, it was still messy, but it suited Arthur.
"Just so you know, I wasn't flirting yesterday either. But oui, I won't."
Huffing a bit, the Brit made his way to the meeting room, the French soon following him.
Three hours after talking about business, they decided to have a break. Once again, Francis was surrounded by others, every one of them flirting with the handsome French nation.
Arthur was way too jealous to watch that. Francis was his and his only. If he didn't want to share him, he didn't have to do so.
Determined look in his eyes, Arthur made his way through the crowd until he reached the Frenchman. Without any hesitation, he leaned up and pressed his lips against Francis'.
Francis, caught by surprise, was shocked at first, but then chuckled and kissed the Brit back, his arms finding their way around Arthur's waist.
As they pulled away from each other, Arthur turned so he was leaning against Francis, his back against his chest. He felt like sticking his tongue out to the others, but that would have been childish and so he just smirked victoriously.
Francis chuckled, nuzzling his nose into Arthur's hair, warm smile playing on his lips.
"Someone's being possessive~" he purred, making the Brit blush.
"S-Shut up…! I just wanted to show them that I own you…"
Laughing softly, Francis turned the Brit around and pulled him into another kiss.
Lame ending is lame. I really cannot end stories well, sorry for that D: