The candlelight flickered on his body as he set the wine glasses up, making sure to get the right bottle of wine from the basement. A small smile came to Matthew's face as he thought about the events of the night that would hopefully take place.
Many of the other nations foolishly thought that he was introverted because he rarely spoke up, and when he did, he was soft-spoken. They didn't know the other side of Matthew Williams, and he wasn't really going to show them. All he had to do was wait for Francis to get home from wherever he was.
Probably out drinking with Antonio in congratulations for his family, his mind supplied before shaking his head. That wasn't it. Antonio hadn't been allowed out of the house unless he was tending to his tomatoes or getting groceries... Not that that man could be parted from his daughters.
So where is he? he asked himself. His heart sank a bit. With a sigh, he lifted the two wine glasses and put them away, setting the wine back in the cellar before heading to bed alone. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to. However, halfway to the bedroom, he swiveled on his foot and headed back to the cellar to get the bottle of wine.
Francis, meanwhile, was coming into the house quietly, yawning a bit. He looked around the living room of the house he shared with the Canadian and shook his head when he saw the still flickering candles. Quickly dousing the lights, he headed up to bed, only to frown when he didn't see the young man there. Shrugging it off, he tossed a small box into the drawer left open by the bed and changed out of his clothes, not bothering to redress into pajamas, and slid into the silk sheets to drift off.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me.
However, before he could fall asleep, he heard a thud of a thick glass bottle, a wine bottle, hitting the wood floor and sleepily sat up in bed. Matthew stood in the doorway, bathed in the light behind him, his hips swaying sinfully as he rocked to the beat of a song only he could hear.
"Matthieu? Êtes-vous bien?" he asked. His eyes roamed, unashamed, over the body of the Canadian before him, darkening in lust. Matthew just continued to sway, his long fingers slowly undoing the buttons of the shirt—Francis' shirt—that he wore. It explained why it was so long in length and the sleeves.
"Oui, Francis," the Canadian said as he began swaying towards the bed, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Vous, cependant, doivent être punis." Matthew's fingers slowly worked at the buttons of the shirt, pulling one out of each hole with each step before the fabric lay forgotten on the floor.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me.
Francis felt himself shiver as his mother tongue rolled off of his former colony's tongue, with such ease and a purr in the syllables, that he almost regretted teaching it to him. "Matthieu," he whispered, feeling a shot of desire penetrate his body, the lust rolling through his veins like a fine, poison-laced wine. "W-what do you mean punishment?"
Matthew, when he reached the foot of the bed, let his fingers drop from the buttons of the shirt, leaving it open and revealing that he wore nothing under it. He smiled slightly as he crawled up the bed slowly. "You said if you were going to be late, you'd call..." he answered, his hand placing itself on the bed just inches from Francis' straining erection beneath the sheet. He can feel the heat radiating off of him and it makes him shiver.
"I g-got caught up and couldn't get to a phone," Francis stammered out, tightly closing his eyes when he felt the tip of Matthew's nose press to his neck and slowly trail up.
"Who were you with, Francis? Who's the slut that stole your attention from me?" he asked, tilting his head. He chuckled when he felt the Frenchman tense up beneath him. "Did I hit the nail on the head? I don't hold it against you, Francis... After all, we are just house mates with benefits now and again," he said.
Tonight, I'mma let you be the captain
Tonight, I'mma let you do your thing, yeah
Tonight, I'mma let you be a rider
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, babe
"Now you hold on a minute, Matthew," Francis said, only to be silenced by a pair of wine-painted lips. His eyes closed as his hands instantly moved, holding onto Matthew's body, one on his hip, the other running through his hair. When he tried to deepen the kiss, however, his tongue was bitten, making him withdraw to look at the younger in confusion.
"Ah, ah, ah, Francis," Matthew said, crawling up a bit further, his head moving to allow his lips to nip and suck at a pale earlobe that seemed to call to him. "Je suis en charge maintenant, vous pouvez vous asseoir là et de le prendre." he whispered, causing the other man to shiver in anticipation.
Tonight, I'mma let it be fire
Tonight, I'mma let you take me higher
Tonight, baby, we can get it on
Yeah, we can get it on, yeah
"W-wait, Matthew, there's something you need to know first," Francis said against his lips, trying to will his body to obey for a few minutes instead of just coming putty under the Canadian's able hands.
Matthew pulled back. "If it's about the jeune filleyou were with, I don't want to hear it," he stated darkly, kissing him again, not giving him a chance to back out of it.
Francis inwardly sighed but relented, kissing him back. He noticed that the younger relaxed and made a mental note to reassure the boy later. For now, it was better to just let him have his way.
Do you like it boy?
I wa-wa-want what you wa-wa-want
Give it to me baby like boom, boom, boom
What I wa-wa-want is what you wa-wa-want
Na, na
The younger blond all but melted, body on fire from the alcohol in his system as well as the touches from his lover. He couldn't help the jealousy. He was used to being ignored by everyone at meetings, had come to expect it, even relish in it as it gave him a chance to watch his lover, but to have Francis—his Francis—downright refuse to at least call and give a lie or an excuse for being late... Well, it cracked his heart.
And he was scared—downright terrified—to think that Francis would leave. His eyes clenched shut to will the bitter tears away, trying in vain to tell himself that Francis wouldn't leave. His fingers dug into the soft hair of his lover, forcing the tightening of his chest away as the Frenchman complied. No! he thought desperately. He's not getting bored, he's interested!
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
Francis winced as Matthew's hands pulled, moving his own hands up to carefully disentangle the slim hands from his hair and pulled away from the kiss. "Matthieu, mon cher, calm down and look at me," he said softly, voice laced with the barest hints of lust.
Tears slowly leaked out from the younger man's eyes beneath his lids and glasses, nearly hidden as he shook his head quickly. Francis' hand released one of Matthew's wrists and pulled the younger's glasses off before sitting them on the bedside table. Soft purple eyes—filled with a mixture of confusion, lust, love, and fear—slowly opened to look into the dark blue of his lover's. A soft whimper left him and more tears fell.
The Frenchman tutted and leaned forward, kissing the tears away. "Matthieu, mon amour, il n'y a pas besoin de pleurer. Je ne vais pas n'importe où." Francis murmured against his skin. Matthew wanted desperately to believe those words, so beautiful they were to his ears.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
Francis pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. "Now, lets try to get some sleep, alright? We have a meeting tomorrow," he said, pressing a kiss to the sniffling man's nose.
"Nngh... Francis?" Matthew asked, voice shaky, almost fearful, as if he had reverted to the man that he had been at the beginning of their relationship. The sound of his own voice made him flinch.
"Oui?" Francis asked, his hand moving to cup the Canadian's cheek softly, eyes half closed.
"Will... Before we go to sleep, can we..." The rest of the question came out as a garbled mess of letters and syllables in what sounded like a mixture of French and English.
Francis blinked owlishly. "I didn't understand that, mon amor," he said softly, voice a soft purr. Matthew's cheeks turned a light red.
"W-will you make love to me?" the Canadian asked, voice a bit stronger but still seeming so fragile, as if expecting a no.
Tonight, I'mma give it to you harder
Tonight, I'mma turn your body out
Relax, let me do it how I wanna
If you got it I need it and I'm a put it down
Matthew gave a soft moan of appreciation as their positions were reversed, feeling a bit more at ease with his back pressed to the familiar silk sheets, though it didn't stay there for long when lips descended down his neck and chest, a tongue licking at his nipple. His eyes clenched into the sheets, trying to find purchase on something solid.
"Mon amor, you never have to ask," Francis answered, his fingers of one hand sliding up his lover's body, exploring precharted dips and swells, fingers tracing over the scant scars that the North American nation had. The fine hairs of his beard brushed over the other man's skin, giving a pleasing, tickling feeling wherever they touched.
Buckle up, I'mma give it to you stronger
Hands up, we can go a little longer
Tonight, I'm a get a little crazy
Get a little crazy, baby
Matthew let out a soft squeak when a ticklish spot was hit, his back arching further off of the bed, sighs and moans leaving his parted lips as Francis' lips followed his fingers in their conquest. "F-Francis!" he gasped, his hands moving to grip the Frenchman's shoulders. He shivered, eyes opening as his head moved to look to allow him to watch.
"Oui?" Francis asked softly, the word brushing against the younger blond's skin softly as his exploration continued. It was as if he were trying to make sure nothing had changed on his lover. Maybe a little weight gain, but that could've been from the chugged bottle of wine prior to this endeavor.
"Nngh... More, please." he whispered to him, locking eyes with the older man. His body was trembling already. Normally, he didn't get like this until they were connected, but the wine had sped up his body's reactions. Francis' eyes softened a bit, though still darkened by lust. He could see the traces of tears at the corners of those beautiful light violet eyes and hoped they were from pleasure.
Do you like it boy?
I wa-wa-want what you wa-wa-want
Give it to me baby like boom, boom, boom
What I wa-wa-want is what you wa-wa-want
Na, na
Francis shifted, spidery-thin fingers sliding down Matthew's hip to his thigh, feeling the muscles jump and twitch beneath the pale skin. He almost chuckled when he heard the barely contained laughter as more ticklish spots were hit. Unable to resist, he let the tips of his fingers trail over that spot a few times until Matthew let out a gasping laugh, trying to squirm away from the sensation. Francis chuckled softly and stilled his fingers when he felt those fingers in his hair again. He chuckled again and leaned into the caresses of his his lover's hands, soothing some of the fire running through his veins.
"I'm not made of glass, you know..." Matthew whispered, even as he felt fragile.
Francis kissed his abdomen, lapping at the dip of his bellybutton. "I know you're not," he said, the hand he had been using to tickle the other moving to stroke the erection pressing into his throat. The strangled moan leaving the Canadian brought a smile to his lips. "Glass is cold and unfeeling. You are most definitely neither of these."
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
"Asseyez-vous s'il vous plaît." Francis whispered. With shaking limbs, the younger blond sat up, leaning back on his hands for balance. Francis winked at him, still stroking slowly, only to wrap those sinfully soft lips around the length in his hand, lavishing attention on to the aching flesh. Matthew let out a soft cry and suppressed the urge to move his hips.
One of Matthew's hands moved to run through the man's hair, his chest heaving a bit from the pleasure that surged through him. "N-non, je suis t-trop ...!" he gasped out. Francis didn't seem to hear him as he bobbed his head up and down as his throat worked around him. The hand in Francis' hair tightened a bit as his body decided to take control, releasing into that welcoming warmth. "S-sorry." he panted, watching his lover as Francis pulled his head back, eyes half lidded as he swallowed, licking up whatever he missed.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
"What for?" Francis asked as he looked up at him. The pleasured blush on Matthew's cheeks darkened into one of embarrassment as he looked away, the hand that had been in those silken blond tresses in a loose fist in front of his lips as he mumbled out a response. The Frenchman blinked and moved up his lover's body slowly. "What's was that?" he asked softly.
"For doubting you." he whispered. Before Francis could question him further, Matthew had reversed their positions, the blush darker on his cheeks as he lapped at the tip slowly, as if apprehensive. And he had every right to be. He was nervous about how Francis would feel about this, as the Canadian hadn't ever tried to do this before.
A surprised, but clearly pleased, moan left the elder blond's lips, his fingers threading through Matthew's hair simply to help angle his head into a better position. Matthew let him, too new to this to care, though his hands did find purchase on Francis' hips.
I like the way you touch me there,
I like the way you pull my hair
Baby, if I don't feel it
I ain't faking, no, no
"Matthew, mon amour, you're a natural at this," he whispered encouragingly as purple eyes slid partially shut and a pale mouth assaulted his length. Matthew's cheeks turned a darker red as he slowly tasted his lover, a shiver rolling down his spine. He couldn't describe it, honestly, as there wasn't really a taste for it. Instead, took more into his mouth, attempting to mimic what had been done to him just moments earlier.
'I hope he enjoys this,' he thought as he pulled his head up, licking around the tip as he got his breath back, only to engulf nearly the entire mass in one go. He winced and pulled his head up when Francis thrust up. "Désolé." Francis whispered with a smile. Matthew shook his head, managing a weak smile before he resumed his actions. I like when you tell me kiss it there
I like when you tell me move it there
Francis watched, a little shocked at how bold his lover was being tonight. He wasn't against it, by any means, it was just... A big turn on. His finger found Quebec, slowly stroking the length of it with a small smirk, watching Matthew's form quiver and moan around him. "I think it's time we move onto the next part, mon cher." he said softly when Matthew came up for breath again.
Matthew opened his mouth to ask if he wasn't satisfied, only to moan again when his curl was teased. Francis smirked softly and cupped his cheek. "It feels good, but I want to make you feel good too." he said, slowly easing the younger blond into his lap. Matthew flushed darkly but nodded. He was too far gone to really care, as long as he was receiving pleasure and love from the man. With shaking fingers, he reached for the tube of lotion Francis kept there. A sudden idea came to his mind and, instead of pouring it onto the digits Francis held up, he poured it onto his lover's chest with a small smile.
Francis gasped at the initial cold, only to shiver for a completely different reason as a lean chest pressed up against his and rub the lotion around. Normally, he would've been a little upset at the use of so much lotion, but with how slick both their bodies were becoming with the lotion, and with Matthew's movements against his erection, he really couldn't complain.
So giddy up, time to get it up
You say you're a rude boy, show me what you got now
What surprised the man more was the sudden tight heat wrapped around him. His hands gripped Matthew's hips, holding him still. He panted as he locked eyes with his lover and sat up a bit more, kissing his forehead. "You could've taken it slow, love." he whispered.
Matthew panted hard as he tried to relax. Despite them having sex so often, he still wasn't used to the penetration part. Francis gave him a soft kiss, pulling him closer as he rubbed his hips gently. "I c-can handle it." Matthew said, trying to move, but Francis' hands held him in place.
Come here right now
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
"Stay still until you're adjusted." Francis said softly, kissing his cheeks, forehead, lips: anything within reach. Matthew smiled a bit at him, his arms wrapping around the Frenchman's neck before he kissed him deeply.
Again, Francis was surprised, but willingly returned the kiss, holding him close. He bit back a moan when his former colony's hips rocked against his. He couldn't stop the thrust up into that tight heat wrapped so snugly around him before he paused.
Matthew gave a soft cry at the thrust, back arching. "D-don't stop. S'il vous plaît, ne vous arrêtez pas. Ne jamais cesser de m'aimer." he all but begs, twin streaks of pleasured tears streaking down his cheeks.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
Francis' control snapped at that plea. With a sudden action, a flick of the wrist really, he has his lover pinned beneath him, lips captured in a deep kiss as his body took over, thrusting slowly but pressing in hard, striking the younger's prostate continuously. Matthew's cries were muffled beneath his lips as he arched his back, the slight swell on his stomach—from the wine, Francis tells himself—brushing up against the Frenchman's own taunt abs.
"Francis, I-I'm not g-gonna last...!" Matthew managed out against the man's lips, his body already giving the tell-tale signs of release. His phrase was met with a harder thrust that causes his body to clench up in the second orgasm for the night. He shivered when he felt Francis' seed fill him up, a blush on his cheeks.
Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up?
Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
Francis shivered and gave him a soft smirk as he let Matthew's legs wrap around his waist. His movements didn't still, only slowing down for a gentle round of lovemaking. Matthew's chest heaved, his breathing slowing down. His hair was already stuck to his face and neck from sweat, but he didn't care. It was this slow, gentle stuff he loved, made him feel special.
Matthew's eyes opened to look up at Francis, a small tint of fear in his eyes. "What is it, mon cher?" Francis asked softly, cupping his lover's cheek softly as he brushed a kiss to Matthew's temple.
Matthew hesitated, torn between telling him and risk a negative response, or just shrugging it off for a later day, when it would be impossible to ignore it. When he saw the encouraging look he was getting—as well as the mind-numbing pleasure that made him feel it would be alright—he sucked in a breath and kissed Francis' lower lip softly.
(Love me, love me)
(Love me, love me)
(Love me, love me)
"I'm pregnant." he said softly, looking away, as if terrified of the outcome. His heart stills with the stilling of the movements within him and he clenches his eyes shut. "P-please don't hate me, S'il vous plaît ne me haïssez pas, ne me haïssez pas, ne me haïssez pas, ne me h-haine, d-ne-"
"Matthew," Francis said softly, pressing a finger to the younger man's lips to quiet. "Matthew, look at me." he whispered as he turned the Canadian's head to face him. Slowly, light purple eyes, filled with fearful tears, opened. Matthew opened his mouth again to start apologizing again, only to be cut off with a soft kiss. "How on earth could you ever think I hate you? Especially when you're expanding our family." he murmured.
Purple eyes filled with hope, and a soft hand, his own, came up to wipe his tears away. "Y-you don't?" he asked quietly, sniffling softly.
Francis smiled lovingly at him, shaking his head. "Of course not." he said as he resumed his movements, not failing to miss the way Matthew's pupils dilated in pleasure.
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me
Matthew arched his back up more, whimpering when Francis, again, stopped his movements. He flushed as he watched the man trail his fingers over the slight bulge on his stomach from the growing child—not wine—only to smile softly.
It didn't take long for the two of them to reach their release again, too hyped up on emotion to hold back. Matthew clung to his lover as soft, gasping pants left his mouth. Francis smoothed his fingers through Matthew's blond locks as he held him.
With a small pull, he slipped out of Matthew, earning a whimper. "One second, mon amour." he said softly as he rustled through the desk drawer. He pulled out a small box, and Matthew felt his heart, having been in the process of slowing down, speeding back up.
(Love me, love me)
(Love me, love me)
(Love me, love me)
"Matthew, I was planning on asking you tonight at dinner, but I was late because I was trying to get the courage to ask." Francis said softly. "And hearing that we'll be having a family together just solidified it." He smiled softly and kissed Matthew's forehead. "Will you marry me?" he asked
Matthew was silent for a long moment. "Oui." Matthew whispered softly, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment and it was all just a dream. As the ring slid onto his finger, simple yet intricate all the same, he felt a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes.
"Je t'aimerai toujours, Matthieu." Francis whispered softly into his ear, brushing the tears away as he held his lover.
"Je t'aime aussi, François." Matthew whispered back, clinging to him again. "Je t'aime aussi."
Take it, take it, baby, baby
Take it, take it, love me, love me...
OMAKE 1
"Yo, little brother!" Alfred laughed as he burst into the house, Arthur following behind him with an irritated sigh. Alfred looked around in confusion. There weren't any pancakes being made, no gourmet foods either... Francis wasn't prancing around in only a rose... Either they weren't home or..
"Ack! I said don't do it so hard, mon cher!" Alfred paled while Arthur smirked. He always knew the damn frog bottomed!
"If I do it gently, it won't come out," Matthew said softly, stifling a laugh.
"You're going to tear it off!" Alfred blinked when Arthur suddenly dragged him upstairs to the bedroom.
"Artie, no, whatever it is, I don't want to see it! I want to keep the image of my baby brother innocent!" Alfred complained.
"Oh, pipe down, boy. I want to hold this over his head." Arthur said as he threw the door open, expecting to find Francis under the Canadian, screaming for mercy. Instead, what he found made him sweatdrop.
Francis and Matthew were both fully clothed, seated on the edge of the bed, and... Matthew was brushing Francis' hair. And the comb he was using was stuck in the Frenchman's hair.
"...Francis, I'm stealing some of your disgusting wine." the Briton said as he swiveled on his heel and headed back downstairs, followed by a laughing Alfred.
OMAKE 2
"Get out, aru! I.. I never want to see you again!" Yao shouted at the large Russian, throwing anything he could get his hands on.
Ivan wasn't even sure what was going on. One minute, they were talking like they usually did, and the next, Yao was freaking out on him. "Yao-Yao, what did I do wrong?" he asked softly, honestly confused.
"I-if you don't know, that just makes it worse! GET OUT!" he shouted, grabbing the next thing within reach. It was a vase the two of them had made together on their first date, one currently full of sunflowers. He threw it with all the strength he could towards the Russian, missing him by inches, but the shattered pieces of pottery slicing into his pale skin, small rivulets of blood trickling down his cheeks.
Lavender eyes went blank. "...If that's what you want." he said coldly. He turned to leave, only to pause when he saw two children, a perfect mixture of the two parents, looking on fearfully.
"Papa, where are you going?" the younger child, a boy, asked. Ivan knelt down and drew them both close, kissing their foreheads.
"Away for a while." he said softly.
"Are you coming back?" the little girl asked fearfully Who was going to get the monsters out from under her bed if he was gone?
Ivan managed a soft smile. "I... I don't know. Be good for your mother." he said, giving them each one more kiss before he stood up and left, heading back to the chilling winters of his own lands.
Behind him, Yao fell to his knees, sobbing into his hands.
TRANSLATIONS:
Êtes-vous bien? = French, "Are you alright?"
Vous, cependant, doivent être punis. = French, "You, however, must be punished."
Je suis en charge maintenant, vous pouvez vous asseoir là et de le prendre. = French "I'm in charge now, you can just sit there and take it."
jeune fille = French,"young girl"
mon cher = French. "my dear"
mon amour, il n'y a pas besoin de pleurer. Je ne vais pas n'importe où. = French. "My love, there is no need to cry. I'm not going anywhere."
Asseyez-vous s'il vous plaît. = French, "Sit up please."
N-non, je suis t-trop ...! = French, "N-no, I'm t-too close...!"
Désolé. = French, "Sorry."
S'il vous plaît, ne vous arrêtez pas. Ne jamais cesser de m'aimer. = French, "Please, don't stop. Don't ever stop loving me."
S'il vous plaît ne me haïssez pas, ne me haïssez pas, ne me haïssez pas, ne me h-haine, d-ne- = French, "Please don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me, don't h-hate me, d-don't-"
Je t'aimerai toujours, Matthieu. = French, "I'll love you forever, Matthew."
Je t'aime auss, François. = French, "I love you too, Francis."