Chapter 10

His heart stopped. The British couldn't keep his eyes off of the taller man. Alfred F. Jones looked like he had run a marathon. He was panting, and his cheeks were flushed, beads of sweat were dripping down the side of his forehead—god, how could he look so good even like this? Arthur gulped and took a step back, shoulders hunching forward, suddenly feeling scared, "… W-What are you doing here?"

The Frenchman paled, an abrupt sting of pain shooting through his body, "F-Fuck," he breathed out in the smallest voice he could conjure; it was twelve. He was going through his transformation. In the middle of this?

Francis' body started to hurt—now more than ever, and he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from crying out loud—he had to close the kitchen's door. Or else, someone would hear him. But he couldn't. What if Alfred did something wrong to the shorter blond? Using much more strength than he should have, Francis turned his body around to see what was happening—his teeth gritted together as he watched the American's hands go to the Englishman's shoulders.

Then Alfred kissed him.

The ghost's eyes widened, and his body gave a little shake from the pain—but he couldn't do anything. His body kept on losing colour, and his heart broke into shards when he saw Arthur kiss back. At first, he was glad that the Brit had stiffened at the kiss, but now… he was just relaxed and… both of his hands were now tangled in the American's hair, and he was kissing back. That traitor was kissing back. Then Francis felt furious.

No, no, this isn't supposed to happen. Arthur's body is his. They broke up. Arthur was now dating him. The Brit was officially cheating on him. Francis let out an animalistic howl, his body shaking more and more as he howled once more, making the others pull away, Arthur looking pale.

"So. You got yourself a dog to replace me?" Alfred said softly, leaning away to caress his ex's cheek, "I'm slightly hurt, but I'll be alright once we're back together and happy again."

The Brit looked at the clock, completely ignoring the other—and then he paled even more; Francis. His gaze turned to the kitchen as he heard another howl. Then he was reminded about what the American had said. "W-What? You slapped me, don't you remember?" he said, hurt, now rubbing vigorously at his lips, "J-Just go, Alfred."

Francis panted, now feeling slightly better that the Brit had rejected him, but the American hadn't stopped, "I'm sorry, okay? Really, I didn't mean to—I was just… angry. Then I saw who you- who was kissing you, and I realized it was some man whore that was just trying to steal your money. And I'm sorry. I promise. I—I miss you," the American said genuinely, taking both of his hands, "I want you back. And… I know you want me back too, Arthur."

Pulling slightly away, Arthur flushed in embarrassment and shook his head, "J-Just… please…" he didn't have anything else to say, and Francis almost thought that the Brit would be smart and chase him away.

Still, Alfred hadn't given up. "… If you're seeing someone else… and if he makes you happy, then I'll back off. If he makes you happy. I'll give up."

Arthur had to think for a moment. Only Francis needed to love him. He didn't need to love the French himself. So he answered with, "I'm not seeing anyone else."

Francis closed his eyes, feeling two trails of tears flowing from his eyes. He couldn't watch this anymore. He was going to faint sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. Alfred took a step forward and kissed him once more, "Then you have to take me back because you know you want to."

He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Yes. Yes, he wanted Alfred. He wanted him so much. But he was lying to the other. He was seeing someone now. But… that person was dead. Francis wasn't even half a person! He was dead. Arthur took a step forward and nodded, staring up at the taller American male, "… My answer is a yes. But you—please don't ever slap me again. It really hurt," he grumbled, a sudden feeling of guilt going through his body as he pressed his lips to the other's own.

And Francis fainted at that second. He thanked god. Because he really felt like crying. How could the other betray him like that? Such a traitor. Such a fucking traitor. He really was glad that his body's functions didn't even work at this time. It hurt him to even think about what they would be doing right now.

Speaking of what they were doing right now, Alfred's lips were now on the Brit's neck, causing the blond male to gasp in delight—god, it had been too long. His arms wrapped around the other's waist and he suddenly jumped up, legs also wrapping around the other's legs—"Man, you've gotten lighter, have you stopped eating?" Alfred said in a worried tone as he carried him upstairs to the bedroom.

"N-No, I've been eating fine," Arthur answered softly, burying his face in the other's neck as he breathed in the other's scent—it had been a while since he had smelt his lover. Yes, Arthur knew it sounded corny, and possibly strange, but… To him, to know your lover's scent was like knowing who he was. And how clean he was. Shaking the thought away (since Alfred was clean, for an American that like fast food so much), the Brit ran his hand through the American's soft, blond hair.

God, he missed this.

Then, why did he feel so guilty?

Arthur didn't have any more time to ponder about his guilt covered heart—because he was pushed onto the bed, and his eyes widened. Wait. Were they going to—oh, those were lips on his neck. Very, very nice lips indeed. The Brit's breath hitched at a sudden nibble and that confirmed his wonders. Well, he was going to get laid tonight.

Oh, the guilt.

But it felt so good.

The American kissed down his neck, leaving puffs of air to hit the slightly rough skin; Alfred always loved how Arthur would shave, but they would just grow back so quickly that it made him grin. Wrapping his arms around his lover, the Englishman breathed out lightly, legs, hesitantly, going to wrap about his hips, tugging him closer to grind against the taller male. Alfred hissed in pleasure at the rubbing, and allowed his hands to slide down Arthur's chest, feeling small pokes as he slid down the other's already hardened nipples. Oh, that made Kirkland's brain turn to goo in only a few mere seconds.

Being so close—he was sure Alfred could at least hear his racing heart that was probably going to give him a heart attack later. He shouldn't joke about that—"O-Ohh…" Arthur's mouth opened to let out a moan as Alfred's fingers pinched both of his dark coloured buds, and his back arched to allow the other more access to his body. This was amazing—and this brought back so many memories—and, humiliatingly, a lump formed in the Brit's throat. Oh god. He wasn't going to cry in the middle of foreplay. But his body was trembling. In anticipation. So Alfred knew what happened.

Kissing back up, the American smiled softly and brushed a few strands of hair away from his lover's face, "… Something wrong, Artie?"

"N-No… it's just…" he sighed, breathing hitching once more, thinking of what he really thought, "… I missed you… A-And I love you."

"Arthur…" Alfred gave him a gentle kiss to his lips, to show how much he genuinely cared, "I love you too, and I won't ever leave you again," he whispered back, kissing his lips once more, nose nuzzling the other's nose as well; just a small Eskimo kiss.

Well, that did it. Tears slowly slid down his cheeks as he let out a choked sob, and he held Alfred closer, pressing a deeper kiss, and he muttered onto his lips again, "I-I love you."

The taller male smiled and kissed his tears gently, saying, "I know," Alfred gave him a squeeze and kissed back down to his chest, pressing open mouthed kisses to his left nipple, flicking his tongue out to tease the already hardened bud, making the Brit gasp and squirm in anticipation.

Arthur knew that he was going to be—well, fucked, literally. But he didn't even care—He would never be able to get, or even fell such love, from the French. He was sure. W-Wait, why was he even thinking about the ghost? "A-Ah!" he whimpered lightly as he felt the American's talented mouth on his growing bulge, and he covered his mouth at the embarrassing noises, and pouted when he heard the other chuckle lightly, "S-Stop teasing, Jesus Christ," he scolded the other, using his hand to smack the taller's head.

Said taller male continued to chuckle, and he grinned, looking up, "No, I'm just so glad. I'm so glad that I can still have you," he slowly slid Arthur's trousers off, and kissed the obvious bulge once more, making the Englishman whine once more, bucking up his hips.

This felt amazing.

Francis rubbed his temples as he woke up from his black out, and gulped down the lump in his throat. Fuck. He could hear them. What the hell was their problem? "Merde," he sniffled and wiped at his eyes, finally knowing that he was actually crying. Like a fucking teenager. What was wrong with him? And this was hard for him. Just hearing them upstairs, and his mind running wild—he actually wanted to… well… stab Alfred the dick in his face.

Yes, he had decided that the person he hated the most, was most definitely, Alfred F. Jones.

Gritting his teeth, he sighed and wiped at his eyes again. Then his heart stopped. Well, he really never had his heart beating—but he was shocked. Why did he hate Alfred so much? The American never did anything to him in general. He only hated him because he was touching his Arthur. And when did Arthur become his in his mind? Francis felt tears dripping down his eyes again. "… Non, it can't be right," he touched his own cold cheeks, and trembled.

Oh god.

He was falling for Arthur.

Hard.

Which meant that he could go to heaven.

AN: newest chapppppter here you guys go. Hopefully your Valentines were wonderful! I'm still single XDD, and me and my friends just hung out the whole day, being… single and epically awesome. So I'm fine with it. XD. I know that a lot of readers will probably hate this chapter, but this had to be there so that the story will work XD

And this is the end of the first part of the story.

Whoooooaright.

I know, it really makes me happy that I actually wrote so much fft. There might be a break now, since I would like to write much more before I post the first chapter of the second part, which will still be posted in this story. Thank you for reading until now, honestly, and it really makes me glad that my readers love it. Thanks for all the love, and all the awesomeness.

This story is NOT DONE. Just so that you guys know. But it will be on a slight hiatus, so… wait patiently? It'll be better. I promise. More drama, more (oohlala), and even more. So thank you!

Read and review, my little lovelies!