Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Au café du Canal, I just own an unhealthy devotion to France as a nation and its history. English is not my mother language and neither is French, any constructive criticism is appreciated.
Warnings: France is going to speak random French because, well, he is France. This story came to life mostly because of my friend Goga, starting from the Non è successo niente's post on Facebook she sent me about dick pics to some fleeting debates about fashion and Facebook misuse.
Not-heteronormatively to the point
Spain and Prussia walked inside the bar where they were supposed to meet France, already knowing that it was going to be a very difficult night. They were proven right as soon as they set foot inside and noticed the French nation at his third cocktail, already slouched over the bar counter with all the energy that only someone who was feeling heartbroken could have. Since no one was about to turn openly down their friend's harmless flirting, they already knew what that night's topic was going to be: England.
The only thing left to uncover was whether the problem was 'England being too cute', 'England being a son of a bitch', 'Do you think that England likes someone else?', 'Am I cute enough for England?', 'Do I look better as the damsel in distress or as the handsome and strong prince?', 'What if England liked smooth skin!? Should I shave?' or a mix of all the above.
In the end, it turned out to be something even worse.
"Oi, France, what's up?" Spain asked him, as he sat at France's left while Prussia tackled him on his right.
"Sappy about a certain English bratty nation?" Prussia decided on a more direct approach, hoping to get on with it quickly, but both friends only earned France's resigned sigh for their trouble. "I'll tell you again: you have the worst tastes of the entire world map."
"Baise toi, Prus!"
"Rude as always, I see~" Spain teased, but Prussia still wasn't going to drop the topic.
"You don't get to swear to me, when you can't even tell England that you like him in his face!"
"Well, I'll let you know that I decided to make my move on him, mes amis~" France announced proudly.
"Last time you said this, you shut down the Channel on your side without warning." Spain reminded him, not really believing that France's plan –if he even had one- would be something about to bring England in the Frenchman's bed. Or, to be completely fair to the French nation, something that could get England in his bed and keep him there, something France always failed to get because of both nations' stupidity.
"Yeah, and it didn't work." France admitted crestfallen, before switching to a much firmer tone. "This is why I settled for something better."
"You already tried war." Spain reminded him, starting to worry seeing his friend so resolute. "Please, not all of that all over again."
"Yeah, c'mon." Prussia attempted to make France see reason. "You know that it doesn't work!"
"It's not war, I've grown out of those kind of please notice me attempts." France reassured him, his appearance as dignified as it could get while wearing a pink crop top with an Eiffel tower shaped in white strass on the front. "I realised that it was a childish behaviour."
"I can't believe that you finally realised it." Spain heaved a relieved sigh.
"Good!" Prussia approved, feeling reassured by the news as much as Spain was. "It only took you something like what… a whole millennium?"
"Tais-toi, Prus!"
"Hey, I was serious here. I thought you would never get it."
"What's your next move then?" Spain stopped the quarrel and then ordered a drink for himself, soon followed by Prussia. "Are you planning to do something as daring and exceptional as to ask him out? I know, that would be something out of any kind of your usual get together attempts, but you really should have a try at it."
"Like it would be that easy with England."
"Humour me, please. Just for once in your life."
"I don't need to, I've decided to try something better: I'll send him a dick pic." France announced with proud determination, his well knowing smirk challenging his friends to prove him wrong. "If this doesn't get me England, I don't know what else will."
Hearing France's bright idea, Spain and Prussia were extremely glad that the bartender was still working on their orders, otherwise they would have spurted their drinks all over the counter.
"France! This is your worst idea ever!" Spain yelled at his cousin, silently wondering how in the hell he was related to such an idiot.
"France, believe me, he's going to burn your balls, if you try this." Prussia pointed out, shocked that France of all the people could even consider something as stupid as a dick pic was. It wasn't like he deemed it a bad idea per se, but it was more what Prussia would do. France was the charmer of their trio, he was supposed to offer people roses, wine, romantic dinners, wars, retaliations, flowers… Not sending something as crass as a dick pic was.
"You speak like you know England better than I do!" France pouted, but his friends just glared at him.
"France, this is not about knowing the guy, this is about common sense." Spain clearly spelt in France's face.
"What common sense?"
"The one you lost while pining after some big eyebrows and a skinny ass for too long." Prussia put in even clearer words, earning France's grimace back on him.
"England's eyebrows are hideous-" France decided that it was his duty to clarify.
"Good." Prussia stated, relieved that France still seemed to own some common sense. "Focus on those hideous eyebrows and forget him, so we can start talking about different topics. It has been way too many centuries-"
"—but they do make the best frame for his beautiful green eyes." France however concluded with a dramatic sigh, slouching once again over the bar counter. "This is why I decided that to such perfection I could only answer with my own."
"Your own… perfection?" Spain enquired doubtful, already dreading the answer. "Are we still talking about the picture of your dick?"
"What's better than such a piece of art as my dick is?"
"Any other piece of art?" Spain stopped his rant to kindly thank the bartender as she offered him the drink he had ordered, and then he swallowed half of it in one go. "Look, why don't you try with something normal that he might like? Ok? Send him some pictures of statues or something, and then ask him to go visiting the collection together. He's not unresponsive to actual art, it would be a good chance to turn it into a date."
"Like I've never tried that!" France informed Spain with not so hidden annoyance. "He liked the museum well enough, but it's not like he jumped in my bed afterwards- Well, he did, to be fair, but the morning after he also wrote on a napkin Never again, frog!"
"Well, he always says and writes those kind of things." Spain reminded France. "Despite that, you two keep tumbling into one another's bed."
"Yeah, but I want more!" France protested heatedly. "I want something that he can't dismiss this time."
"And how is sending the picture of a cock that he has already seen better than telling him that you want something more!?"
"Well, I thought that as a photo he might appreciate properly its attractive details: the grace of its shape, the subtle texture of veins across the length à la manière de Monet, the NotreDamesque art of the head… The mop of blond-brownish hair giving the perfect colour contrast to the composition. Mine is not a penis, it's the French masterpiece of penises. A penis that communicates elegance, stubbornness, affability... A strong and reliable penis, loved by everyone, even bratty island nations who can't take a hint even if you bombed them through the Channel."
After long moments of silence, eventually Spain felt the need to express his own opinion on the matter.
"Pining after England for centuries made you lose the last marbles you had left, amigo."
"Why now?" France complained to such a harsh rejection. "I can show you the picture I got ready to send-"
"Please don't!" Both friends hastened to beg, putting a hand each over France's phone to halt all of his movements.
"Why!? I did it in my bathroom, to give off some domestic vibes and convey the idea of I want you in my life forever even better. It's a fool proof composition."
"Look. I've never heard of anything sadder than a dick pic taken inside a bathroom." Prussia attempted to make France see reason. "And that's saying something, since I've seen and done a lot of sad things."
"Yeah you did." Both France and Spain agreed, before France decided to continue his well-meaning justification to his cohorts. "A dick pic taken inside a bathroom it's not sad, though. I think it's a sign of deep commitment."
"It is sad, and what you just said only manages to make it sound even sadder." Prussia continued, annoyed by his friends' quick validation of his misconducts. "That's even sadder than the time you went after England in Asia and he just… allowed you to share the space."
"You know, Prus," Spain took his chance to butt into Prussia's attempt to make France capitulate through the only topic that wouldn't work on the French nation. "It would be England the sad one of your story."
"Same thing. France accepted." Prussia pointed out, and Spain could only nod in agreement.
"So… you really think that a dick pic is not a good idea?" France asked, a bit put off by the strong opposition he was receiving.
"Of course it isn't!" Spain confirmed.
"What would you do if you were minding your own business and someone sent you a dick pic out of nowhere?" Prussia continued Spain reasoning.
"Well, I would be overjoyed, if they were England."
"Then again, bad example choice." Spain could only point out, considering how France's almost too innocent and honest answer was even too much predictable.
"It still is tasteless." Prussia cut close the banter, utterly annoyed at being the only one left playing the reasonable friend out of the three of them. "I am the cheap friend of our trio, this is absolutely not something France should be doing"
"All right all right, I'm not sending him the dick pic." France eventually gave in with a resigned sigh, much to his bad friends' relief.
"Good!"
Both Spain and Prussia high fived one another over France's half-naked back, proud of their humanitarian success, and toasted to it. Their happiness and hope to change the topic of conversation to something more amusing, however, lasted until the French nation got a new message on his mobile and France simply stared mouth gaping at its contents.
"On a second thought, I might just send England that pic." The French nation announced them, a light blush appearing on his cheeks as he smiled adoringly at what he was seeing.
"Why now?" Both friends enquired, astonished by the sudden change of resolution and attitude.
"Well, he just sent me a picture of his dick~"
"Ok, I think that I just did the most stupid thing in my life listening to you guys." England declared, still staring at his phone as if it had caught fire, the announcement that his message had been properly sent and received harshly reminding him of his stupid decision.
"No little brother, that was Brexiting only to get France's attention on you." Scotland cut short, stealing a couple more chips from the bowl England had set in the middle of his kitchen table before taking a big swallow at his beer.
"Well that worked… for a very limited amount of time." England sighed and then slouched over the table and hid his face behind his crossed arms. "How sad is it sending him a dick pic? He will just mock me until the end of our history…"
"History that was going to be very short for you, if you kept going on like you were." Wales interrupted his brother's guilty rant, while playing with the chewing gum he was munching in his mouth. "We already explained it to you: the dick pic is the best way to express your interest. It can't miss. And even if it misses, well, he would be still laughing at your ass, so, no change at all there."
"Yeah!" Scotland confirmed, his eyes blazing with something that could be either determination or alcohol. "It isn't a real harm for your relationship and it conveys your feelings straight to the point-"
"Well now… I wouldn't call his feelings straight…" Wales stopped his older brother, making him roll his eyes at him.
"Gay to the point, queer to the point, not-heteronormatively to the point, whatever you like." Scotland granted Wales, before focussing once again on England. "My point is that it says: what you like, I've got."
"It isn't really the first time that he sees it, though…" England complained, straightening up as his eyes moved once again to survey The Evil Device.
"Allow him to have a better look at it, alright?"
"What if he doesn't like it enough to get together with me even after looking at it better!?" England attempted to explain his point of view, as he filled his empty glass with some more whisky. "He never called me back after sex-"
"That's bullshit, brother! France honestly tried, and you shunned him." Wales pointed out, glaring at England since he perfectly remembered the occurrence.
"Yeah, I'm an idiot." England sadly admitted. "We already discussed that point three hours ago, when this whole charade started."
"Yeah!" Scotland confirmed with maybe a bit too much fervour. "And since you are an idiot who botched all the chances he ever got in his life to get steady with the man he loves, the only solution left is-?"
"The dick pic." England repeated dutifully, swallowing down the contents of his glass. "Yeah, you told me so."
"Yes, the fool proof method." Scotland agreed proudly. "Not even you can't botch it, little brother, and that's saying something."
"More than something." Wales agreed, only to make England pout at the both of them. "The man who wrote on a napkin 'This doesn't mean anything, frog' or 'Despite this I still see you only as an enemy' after fucking like animals in heat."
"Well, it seemed meek writing my phone number!"
"He already has it!" Both brothers reminded him loudly, wanting nothing less than to strangle their brother for various reasons, not least the current topic of their debate.
"Why not just leaving, if you didn't know what to do?" Scotland suggested. "France is many things, but he is the kind of man that calls you back, if he is interested!"
"But I still wouldn't have known what to do!"
"You still waited for that call!" Wales reminded him. "And he did call you back -for some reasons that make sense only in your relationship- and you just fucking hung up!"
"Hence the dick pic." Scotland concluded, in the vain attempt to preserve his and Wales's sanity and solve their little brother's eternal problem. "No words, no pressure, no calls, no napkins, just… dick. Dick can't fail, you… you just do, lil' bro, at least in this."
"I still don't think that it was a good idea…" England decided to point out, taking his eyes away from his phone once more in order to get himself some more whisky. "Maybe I should have stuck to like his photos on Facebook."
"Liking his photos together with the rest of the world?" Wales asked sardonically, attempting not to laugh in England's face. "Bro, each of his posts get about 300 likes and, even if he wasn't one of the most interconnected nation, liking a post on Facebook is just… Liking a post on Facebook."
"Yes, it's completely useless unless you do actually like the post." Scotland concluded sagely, earning Wales' enquiring eyebrow on him.
"You liked one of his posts, now that I think about it."
"Yeah, the 'We are all waiting for Scotland to get back to the EU' post he did on the 1st of February." Scotland admitted with fondness, reminiscing that moment of pure rebellion against what had become basic common sense among most of the nations. "That was good enough to risk England crying like a baby or killing me in my sleep."
"Do you think that I would take it out on you just because you expressed openly your will to get back to Europe!?" England asked outraged, only to earn a kind and complacent pat on his shoulder from his older brother.
"No, because I liked France's post." Scotland explained him with all the tact he could manage. "Something that would be harmless for anyone who doesn't have you as brother, ally, trading partner, friend, acquaintance or less."
"I don't hurt people just because they like France's posts on Facebook."
"Brother, listen." Wales attempted to make England think better about his general behaviour. "When Scotland liked that post, you did cry, accusing him that he wanted to get back to the EU only to have an affair with France. And many other nations told us that you got after every one of them allegedly after they liked one of France's posts."
"That's- preposterous."
"England-"
"Why else would someone like France's posts, if not to show him that they are interested?" England just went defensive. "Whatever he writes is full of bullshit."
"Some people might agree with him or find those things funny, have you ever thought about that?"
England took a moment to think about Wales' reasoning, but he still didn't appear any more convinced than he was before.
"So, if I like one of his posts… You think that it is not evident enough that I'm searching for his attention?" England asked his brothers, eventually. "It's a like after all! On his otherwise useless posts!"
"Only you would think that's a valid attempt at wooing, lil' brother." Scotland confirmed, hoping that finally England had understood part of his problems.
"Well he is not answering, so it was a bad idea…" England complained. "I should have stuck to disrupting his contracts."
"The vaccines' deal and the one about the Australian submarines?" Wales asked curiously, attempting to remember what England had been up to lately.
"Yes. Exactly."
"Lil' bro…" Scotland took a deep breath, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it sound kind. "May I remind you that he shrugged off the breaking of the vaccines' deal and just vented all his rage against America and Australia for the other one?"
"Ouch." Wales felt at once way more concerned about his little brother's worries than he had been until then and turned towards Scotland to whisper at his ear. "No threat at all? No increase of the controls at the border or-"
"Just silence." Scotland confirmed, shaking his head with resignation, prompting Wales to stare back at England and start caressing soothingly his back.
"I'm sorry, brother. I didn't know things were this bad."
"If the situation wasn't dire, I wouldn't have suggested sending him the dick pic, would I?" Scotland pointed out to his brother's lack of knowledge on the matter.
England, on his hand, just sniffled as he proudly attempted not to cry, but his lower lip was already trembling.
As he was about to start to openly cry and scream that America was an idiot because he was stealing reprimands that were only his and that France was an even bigger idiot because only someone as stupid as him could not recognise the perfection of his latest plans, however, his phone beeped for attention. England then kept a hold of himself and just stared in panic at the notification of incoming message written on the display, feeling cold shivers down his spine as he noticed that it came from France. After a while, he just swallowed hard and took a deep breath, opening the message to see what it was about. The contents of the message, however, just left him completely speechless.
"Ok, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea." England could only conclude, after he had finally regained the ability to speak.
"What wasn't a bad idea? Threatening France's cultural dominion or sending him a dick pic?" Scotland hastened to ask, as Wales draped himself over him in excitement, seeing England visibly happier after receiving France's message.
"What does it say? Is it a declaration of war or-"
"He sent me a picture of his dick." England announced, allowing himself a small smile.
Scotland and Wales cheered their brother's luck and high-fived one another at the news, then, all of sudden, they just got ready to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going!?" England yelled at them, surprised by the sudden departure.
"Home. We're leaving the two of you some space." Scotland answered him when he was already outside England's mansion.
"Call us later, we want to hear the news!" Wales added, grinning widely to his brother as he closed the door in front of England's shocked stare.
Before England could stop his brothers, he found himself alone and full of doubts. He wasn't really sure about what to do… or better, he perfectly knew what he wanted to do, too bad that before getting there he was supposed to answer France's message properly. He kept staring at the picture France had sent him, then, in search for the best answer to give him.
Gorgeous penis? The tuff of blond-brownish hair turns an already delectable cock into a work of art? Was it thinking about me what made you this hard? When will you move in with me? Would April be all right for our wedding? Do you really need to hug everyone just to greet them? Can't they keep their distance?
The more he thought about a proper answer to give France, however, the more he just wanted the bloody thing.
'Must feel good in your hands' he eventually wrote, a sentence that he regretted soon after, when no answer came from France even though he had obviously read the message. How an idiot he had been, to think that France was up to sexting only because he had answered the stupid photo his brothers had convinced him to send. What if France had sent him the picture only out of mutual courtesy? What if his answer had sounded a bit too eager and he had ruined everything?
England was just about to call Scotland for a quick consultation, when someone knocked at his door. He rushed to open it, then, hoping that his brothers had forgotten something and had come back. When he opened the door, however, in front of him there was no one else than France, dressed –or so to say- with a pink crop top that left for show much of his stomach and some of the hair on his chest, together with a pair of high-waist jeans tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination.
"Did you order French delivery?" France offered with a wink, making England laugh at the terrible joke.
"I'm indeed rather hungry for French at the moment."
France laughed at England's clever answer, but then he seemed like he didn't really know what to do, something that eased some of the English nation's nervousness.
"Y-you…" France attempted to start the proper conversation, but he quite obviously had no idea about how to put in words the million thoughts that crossed his mind. "I mean… did you send-"
"Why don't you come inside? You must be cold, dressed like this." England interrupted him, showing himself just as nervous as France was. "Even if, well… you look good. I mean, dressed like this."
He blushed heavily at how daring his words sounded to his own ears, so he just focussed on allowing France inside. Once England had closed the door, however, both of them just ended up standing on the threshold and staring at everything that wasn't the other nation's eyes.
"Just for you to know, I- Well, I was out drinking with Spain and Prussia." France blurted out at a certain point, admission that finally made England rising his panicked eyes on him.
Did that imply that France had not meant to send him the picture? Had the three friends been laughing behind his back at his poor efforts to get France's attention? What if it had been one of the others to send England the picture and France was now there only to say that he was sorry and explain him the misunderstanding?
"Oh." was the only thing that England eventually managed to say. "So you didn't- Well, I myself didn't really mean -"
He attempted to find some justification or a way to brush it off, but he could not find a single possible reason to give France. The shame he was feeling was too overwhelming and his brothers… yeah, they had been right: he had botched everything already. Probably it was too late to try Scotland's dick pic solution.
"No, wait! I meant… Hmm..." France resumed his speech, despite not really knowing what to say to quell England's obvious doubts. "I wasn't going to get cold. Because of… the drinks, you know."
The tension stiffening England's shoulders eased considerably, but the English nation still didn't feel self-confident enough to resume the teasing of before.
"Why did you send me the dick pic?" France asked meekly, then, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip in a nervous manner.
"I- I was with my brothers-" England admitted, forsaking himself for his choice of words as soon as he noticed in France's eyes the same panic he had felt before. "They thought… that it would have sent you the message that I meant to convey in a much clearer way than if I tried with words."
"Angleterre, I-" France started doubtfully, not really knowing how to deal with the fact that it had been Scotland and Wales the ones who put England up to the dick pic ordeal. Sure, they were great friends, but they didn't usually think much before putting England into something he wasn't ready for. "You know, I thought that I had gotten the message you were trying to convey, but… I don't know if I guessed right, all things considered. Or if you are all right with it."
"I- don't think that you have gotten it wrong." England hastened to reassure him, averting once again his eyes from France's ones in sheer embarrassment.
"It was your brothers' idea, though."
"Well, it brought you here."
"So, you only wanted me to come here?"
"I- You know that it's not just that!" England protested, huffing in annoyance at France's obvious attempt to make him confess in plain words. Why all the fuss? Was France recording their conversation to laugh at him later with his damned friends? "I can't say it in a way that doesn't sound stupid or corny, and corny things are your stuff!"
"Dick pics too." France pointed out, trying his best not to smile adoringly at how cute England was whenever he acted so flustered and annoyed. "Proof is that I was just about to send you one out of despair."
"That's bullshit."
"It isn't. Well, at least that was what I meant to do." France admitted with a short laugh. "Prussia and Spain attempted to convince me that it was crass and that you wouldn't like it."
England blinked, hearing France's confession, easily imagining how things must have gone for the French nation.
"And then I sent you one."
"Yeah… You still didn't tell me what you meant to convey through it, though. Why don't you just tell me what you had in mind? What would you have done instead of what your brothers' suggested?"
"It's not something I would have really done." England confessed, his whole body shaking in fear of rejection even though his heart was drumming in his chest, at the prospect that he could get a second chance to woo France in a more acceptable manner. "I don't think I would have ever had the courage-"
"Yeah, but in case what you meant to say was what I guessed... Well, I would really like to be able to tell people that I didn't fall at the feet of my mortal enemy after a dick pic."
"To me, it looks like you're standing right now."
"Just humour me, please, because there's something else just about to stand up and it would completely ruin this late attempt at cute actual romance." France teased, taking England's hand to drag him closer, so close that their chests almost touched.
"It's just… this stupid image that I had in mind-"
"Care to share it?"
"It's- Well, I thought that I would drag you by the Seine with an excuse and, at a certain point, while walking, I would just sang something corny out of the blue, maybe singing along some tune that was playing in the background." England admitted eventually, blushing dark red at the admission. "Even in my mental images I'm not sure enough of myself to just tell you directly."
"It would have been cute, though. Even cuter, if you really tried to make it appear like it was the spurt of the moment." France allowed himself a short laugh to dismiss the embarrassment that was reddening his cheeks, as his eyes shone bright in sheer curiosity. "What would you sing, though, if there wasn't anything good in the background? Some melancholic English ballad? Can I hear it now?"
"Not really-"
"C'mon!"
"I- I actually… There was this song-" England attempted to tell France, before resorting to simply start muttering the lyrics he had in mind, his voice trembling as he –not for the first time- realised how ridiculously scared to be mocked he must appear to France.
France who, as soon as he recognised Au café du Canal sang in French, simply stared at the other nation completely taken aback. After the first moment of surprise, however, France just draped England's arm around his own waist and attempted to sing along with him.
"Quand tu m'as regardé pour la première fois, ma vieille liberté s'est mise à tituber-" was the only verse France allowed himself to sing along though, since England seemed to only turn more uncertain than he had been until then.
"J'aime le ciel parce qu'il est dans tes yeux, j'aime l'oiseau parce qu'il sait ton nom, j'aime ton rire et tous ces mots curieux, que tu viens murmurer au col de mon veston-"
Hearing England resuming unsurely his attempt at charming him in French made France feel as if he had fallen for the English nation all over again, English accent and embarrassment only managing to make him even cuter in his eyes. Feeling unable to contain himself any longer, France leaned then towards England hesitantly, hoping that his friend would stop him, if what he had in mind weren't all right with him.
England stopped singing altogether as soon as he noticed France's movement and their eyes met before both of them automatically focussed on the other's lips, as they opened them slightly while swallowing in mute hesitation.
"I would have expected everything from you, except you singing to me a romantic song in French."
"It was more the lyrics than anything else," England admitted, his eyes never leaving France's lips. "I- I do like many things because they remind me of you and, yeah, I love the way you laugh and talk to me, even when I don't understand half of it. And those are not even the only lyrics that made me think about you…"
"It does have some nice reminders," France agreed, deeply moved by England's admission. "And I- I kind… of feel the same."
France then put two fingers under England's chin to rise his face a little bit, so that he could close the space between their lips and allow them to meet, a gentle pressure that felt awkward yet overwhelming. They parted before even trying to deepen the kiss, giving themselves some moments to laugh off the nervousness they were both feeling.
"How absurd is it that I knew how your muscles felt when they tightened around my cock, but not how your lips felt against mine?" France asked, earning a small nod from England.
"I was thinking that this is the first time we kissed as well. " England admitted. "How was it?"
"Songs can't describe it well enough, but… I wouldn't mind more, to be honest." France teased, as they resumed kissing, this time granting to one another the chance to explore their mouth as much as they wanted. Only when they felt satisfied enough they decided to part, eyes glued on their partner's ones.
"I wouldn't mind more as well, but… What do we tell the others?" England enquired, sounding quite a lot doubtful. "No matter what we want to do from now on, we have at least four more nations waiting for updates."
"I think that we have the whole world waiting for updates, to be honest!" France laughed hard at the whole mess that was awaiting them, and then just hugged England tight, before kissing him on his cheek. "I don't really want to think about them right now, though. I think that we can just leave them all wondering whether they were right or wrong until they will simply walk on us having candlelight dinner."
"Is the candlelight dinner a promise?"
"I can promise you everything you want, mon amour, except forgiving you for being a dick to me in foreign politics."
"It's not like I would ever ask you that." England confessed, as he allowed his fingers to thread through France's wavy hair and he stared awed at how nicely they shone under the artificial light of his entrance room. "Your stubbornness is one of the reasons why I can't keep my eyes off you~"
"Likewise, mon cher~"
That said, they just smiled at one another, and then England grabbed eagerly France's hand to drag him upstairs to his bedroom. France was right, they'd had their whole life to overthink things, now they could just allow themselves to enjoy one another, no matter if they had to live with the fact that the most honest and romantic moment of their life had started out with nothing less than a dick pic.
The end