I do not own Hetalia.

This is a chapter I have already pulished once, but back then I made it with the idea for a series of oneshots like this together. So I took it off with the intention of putting it up again later. (So if it is familiar to you, that is the reason)

I hope you like!

I do not own Hetalia.

June 12th 1972

Francis sighed, he was so comfortable in that big soft bed, lying on top of the covers…naked. He was always the happiest when in his home country and now that Arthur was with him he finally understood why Paris was truly called the city of love and not the city of lust. Last night had been…amazing, mind blowing… it wasn't as all those American movies portrayed it; no, their sex had been bitchy, messy and somewhat violent, but Francis sure as hell wouldn't trade it for the world. Slowly Francis pushed himself up, Arthur wasn't next to him when he awoke a few minutes ago and the French blonde could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Grinning, Francis took his trusty video camera out of the bag that was lying next to the bed –it had been thrown from his shoulder in the threats of passion- and began fondling with the bottoms. Elizabeth, that deliciously evil girl, had given it to him with instructions to get as much on tape as possible and Francis had done so, he had captured a lot of their holiday together. He knew that Arthur hadn't really minded; they both wanted a reminder about those peaceful times; the peace was sure to be disrupted very soon. They had decided to come clean with their relationship when they returned from their trip and if Arthur's word was anything to go by; his family sure as hell wouldn't be happy to discover that not only was their son gay, but he was also in a relationship with a Frenchman. Not that his own family wouldn't be shocked, sure they knew that Francis was bisexual (not a very big surprise there) but the fact that he was in a committed relationship with someone was sure to induce some heart attacks from some of the older generation of the Bonnefoy family. And if that didn't do it, Arthur's humungous eyebrows and messy hair sure would; the family had always been opposed to shaggy looks. However, Francis knew his family would accept Arthur, even if it was only because of his beautiful forest green eyes, which Francis knew for sure, his mother would adore. He knew that his family would be happy that he had lost his heart to someone. Arthur had firmly told him that they couldn't expect anything like acceptance from the Kirkland family, though Francis doubted that, his people skills surely were manifique, he could charm all parents.

Still, Arthur seemed pretty convinced that they would step into the fourth circle of hell when their trip ended.

The shower was turned off and Francis grinned a little to himself, pressing the record bottom. He held the camera trained on the bathroom door and surely, a minute later Arthur came walking out. His hair was still dripping a little and the blonde was furiously rubbing it with a towel. He was wearing one of Francis's shirts, the Frenchman noticed, a bottom up shirt that just barely reached his mid-thigh,the only other thing he was wearing a pair of socks that reached to his mid-calf. Francis swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry, his boyfriend truly looked adorable. Apparently Arthur had decided that his hair was dry enough, because he carelessly threw the towel away from him and turned to the Frenchman.

"Oh!" Arthur's eyes widened. "You're awake, listen why don't we…Are you still playing with that bloody video camera?"

Francis grinned at his lover, alright; maybe Arthur hadn't been that happy with the constant presence of that thing. "Ma petit lapin, I only want to capture your beauty and adorable-"

"Can it frog, you should know by now flattery won't work on me." Arthur walked forward an tried to make a grab for the camera, but Francis was faster; he grabbed the hand that was making a move on the camera and pulled, hard. With a undignified shriek Arthur came tumbling on top off him. Francis immediately moved one strong arm around his love's waist, holding the smaller blonde in place. "I beg to differ, Cher, last night flattery worked quite nice on you, non?"

Arthur popped his head up and glared, then, after he found that he couldn't get up because of an (now) ass grabbing arm, he glared even harder. "Release. Me. Now." Arthur growled. "You slimy frog!"

Francis's smile only got broader and he gently lay the video-camera on the nightstand, in a way so that they were still in the camera's range. After that he pulled his adorable little bunny up, so that their chests were touching and in one fluid motion, he flipped them. Francis was now on top, he felt his bare skin rub against his own shirt which Arthur was wearing. He felt Arthur's surprisingly soft and hairless legs slide against his own as he lay between them. He felt both his own and his love's heartbeat and he realised that this right there was the place he wanted to be, forever and ever. Together with his Arthur, cursing and glaring beneath him, in a cheap hotel room in the middle of Paris. Was this true happiness? True love?

"Francis! What the hell are you doin-mphhh" Francis lips found the other's and he could taste the toothpaste in Arthur's mouth, he let his tong slide in that delicious mouth which so often offended him. His hands wandered to his beloved legs and he stroked them, grinning when he noticed that Arthur had stopped his struggles and had wrapped his arms around his neck. It was just so them; the fighting, the passion; they were not the kind of couple that looked deeply in each other's eyes during sex and asked the other if it was alright. They were different, they did what they wanted, what they desired and trusted that if the other had a problem with that he would make his opinion loud and clear. Francis had never felt more free or exuberant, he had never, in all his life, imagined he would love somebody as much as he loved Arthur. So he had no doubt in his mind that they would conquer both their families, that they would demolish every and any obstacle in their way; because that was simply who they were.

*They didn't leave the bed for the rest of the day.

Needless to say, Elizabeth was very happy with her tape.*

Please review!

AN: I've changed the year from 1971 - 1972, because 1971 was a mistake.