The next day France strolled into the meeting room, his hands in his pockets, his gaze immediately landing on a certain Englishman who'd managed to capture his heart. He smiled and walked over to him. He had to do this now, before he lost his nerve and 'chickened out,' as America would say.

England looked up as the Frenchman approached, smiling a little. "Hello, Francis," he greeted the other as he pulled up a chair besides him. "How are you feeling?"

Francis smiled and leaned back in his seat, trying his best to keep the blush from his cheeks. "I'm well," he replied. "And you?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Francis internally winced at the awkwardness of their conversation. This had been a bad idea. All Arthur wanted was his sex, nothing more. But he had to make sure.

"Angleterre?"

"Yes, Frog?"

"Could I interest you in dinner later?"

Arthur didn't meet his gaze, furrowing his thick eyebrows and biting his bottom lip as he considered the offer(France found this incredibly cute, the way his face scrunched up like that, whenever he was contemplating something). It really didn't need consideration, going out to dinner with Francis. But he couldn't make this easy for him. He needed to make an impression on him, become more than just another one of his lovers, although he had a feeling that he'd already done just that.

After a few moments the Brit replied with a small nod, and France smiled - seeming to be a bit too pleased, in England's opinion - and kissed him lightly on the cheek before sitting back in his chair. A small blush appeared on Arthur's cheeks, and France chuckled lightly, causing the Brit to shoot him a glare and shove him gently. But then the meeting began, and they were forced to tear their attention away from each other and focus.

France stood outside, waiting for England to finish gathering his things and come outside. He was taking a terribly long time. Had he changed his mind? Decided not to waste his time on a perverted Frenchman like himself?

A few moments passed and Arthur walked out, his bag, stuffed to the brim with paperwork, slung over his shoulder. Francis smiled, silently sighing with relief as he offered him his arm. Arthur returned his smile and took it.

"Do you want to stop at your place?" he asked him as they began to walk. "I doubt you'll want to be carrying your work around with you all night."

Arthur smiled and nodded. "Yes, that would be good," he replied. Francis smiled and led him to his home, which he was already familiar with thanks to the many nights they'd shared there together.

France waited outside while England tossed his bag down on the couch, quickly grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket before re-joining the Frenchman. Francis smiled, slowly reaching over and taking his hand as they walked, a small blush creeping across his face. England grinned, laughing.

"I've never seen you blush before, Frog," he said, his own face reddening as their fingers entwined. France scoffed.

"Wha..?! But you're blushing, too!"

"But you've seen me blush before! Remember that time you-"

His voice failed him as he realized what he'd been prepared to just blurt out, in front of all of these people going about their daily business, his cheeks reddening even more. Francis smirked.

"Ha, oui, you have a point," he replied. "I have seen you blush, several times before." He paused leaning over and pinching his cheek gently. "I find it incredibly cute.~"

Arthur swatted his hand away. "Aagh! Don't touch my face, Frog!"

Francis laughed, sliding his hands into his pockets. He continued walking, with England besides him, happy enough with this... whatever you called it. It was the closest they'd ever had to a normal relationship outside of the bedroom, and that's what he loved about it.

They reached the restaurant - a fancy French place called a la Francaise, where Francis had made reservations for earlier in hopes that the Englishman would agee to eat with him. They were led to their table near the window, sitting in the two lone chairs facing each other. Arthur looked around, leaning against the table while they waited to be served.

"This is just like you, Francis."

The Frenchman tilted his head, flipping through the menu. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, an amused smile playing at his lips.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Picking one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris just to try and please another lover," he replied.

Francis chuckled lightly, lying the open menu down on the table and reaching over, twirling a strand of his sandy-blonde hair around his finger. "You're more than just another lover, Angleterre."

England chewed on the inside of his cheek, not meeting the others gaze. "Whatever. What are you ordering?"

The rest of the night went well. They ate together with few arguments, actually chatting about something other than having sex, for once. Afterwards(after, as the result of a small argument, Francis payed for dinner) France walked England back to his home, recieving a quick kiss on the cheek as his only goodbye. It was all he needed, though. It was new, it was different, it was wonderful. To be participating in the start of a new relationship with Arthur, the love of his life... Well, if dinner and a kiss on the cheek could be considered an actual relationship. No one had yet said that they were together. But, once that happened, Francis would be the happiest man alive.

For now, he was content with what he had, with the kisses on the cheek, with paying for dinner. With smiling after the Brit as he climbed the staircase to his home, with whispering: "Bonnet nuit, mon amour" as the door clicked shut behind him. He was happy with what he had, for now, because it would all be worth it in the end.

I finished iiiiiiit! I hope you enjoyed. Please review!