Did I use every trope in the fangirl book to write this chapter, yes I did and I don't regret it XD
I know most would write France as the one with a Tsundere England here, but given England is the perverted ambassador, its more fitting of their characters, at least in my opinion. The idea of Francis being a brat and denying that he is enjoying this, feels canon. While England being a little shit and teasing him over it. I love the requests I get for UKFR so please keep them coming. Happy reading XD
France felt his face darkening to the colour of roses, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so mortified, he had worked hard to earn a reputation among the other nations, proving himself worthy to be an older brother figure to the impressionable nations and younger ones. He wanted to help shape their future and influence them in a positive way. Nobody would be able to let him forget this, the gossip would follow him for weeks on end, he had a reputation to uphold. France took pride in being the nation of love, helping to nurture the many forms it took, young love, soulmates, first love, same sex love, all the happiness that came with experiencing it. But right now his deepest secrets were being exposed and it left him in the vulnerable position of being teased. "Um Angleterre, people are staring at us" France protested awkwardly, he could feel their eyes on him, making his skin tingle and filling him with both embarrassment and a small shiver of pleasure. He wouldn't admit how much he was enjoying this aloud, he would never live it down if Prussia, Spain, America or Canada caught them like this. He would have to endure the shame and humiliation should it come up in conversation, reminded of this moment for eternity. Francis took pride as the nation of love, nurturing and encouraging all the forms it took, it was the strongest emotion in the world. He had loved and lost many people over the course of his life but England had been a constant part of his life since their adolescence. However, as they grew older and England developed his reputation as the perverted ambassador, he found himself at the mercy of England's torment for his delight. He was an adult, he could handle this himself, he didn't need England's help. He was supposed to be an older brother figure to the younger and smaller nations. He would rather be walking down the hallway holding Arthur's hand or feel his eyes on him as England walked behind him, the silent feeling of knowing. In public with such a profound gesture was more than he could handle.
England rolled his eyes, for all that France complained he wasn't naive to the fact that France was a masochist and a brat. He'd known him all his life, he knew him better than anyone "Let them be jealous then pet" England huffed. Due to their mutual friendship with Japan, England had managed to obtain numerous romance novels with the subject of male homosexuality. France adored these novels, projecting his fantasies and desires onto these books. England knew France was a romantic at heart and secretly loved that he was re-enacting this. He could feel France's heartbeat hammering within his chest, the way his cheeks flushed and the look in his eyes. He just hated to admit that he was loving this and secretly squealing with joy on the inside. France hated being called out or confronted when he was being a brat or his masochistic tendencies were brought to light, but then France was a switch. He knew all the nations had their dirty secrets, all the nations had their desires and urges, all the nations had a crush on someone else. Germany had a soft spot for North Italy, it was well known that Germany was kinky, Canada was certainly not as innocent as people perceived him to be. America was certainly the most naive and vanilla of all the nations, given his embarrassment around the subject of sex. He was merely better known and more open about his interests than most.
France pouted, it seemed that England wasn't getting the message "I can walk Angleterre" he pouted, he wouldn't admit that he was loving every second of this. He could smell England's cologne and it was making him dizzy, the green of his eyes like jewels, his eyelashes up close. His rosy lips and cheeks, though England wasn't as buff as Germany, he was by no means scrawny. He could feel the defined muscles of his arms and chest beneath his clothes, making his heart flutter. He hated how weak he was, giving into England, his body recognising him and reminding him why he loved England. Keeping up the air of independence so it wouldn't become obvious that England had him wrapped around his finger.
England rolled his eyes, raising his eyebrow to glance at France suspiciously "Yes, you can pet. But if I let you go, you'll only run off and get into trouble. At least this way I can keep an eye on you" he teased. France had a tendency to tease other nations, though he was always soft on Canada. He loved teasing America about his crushes, naivety and other hobbies just to get a reaction. He loved gossiping with Prussia and Spain like old times, discussing relations and interests. France loved harmless pranks, he loved getting into mischief and England always had to punish him when he was out of line. England had no intention of letting France out of his sight, he was going to keep him close. Assuring that France obeyed and he would be rewarded for it later.
France scoffed, just what was England trying to imply? He hated how perceptive England was, though people teased him for being a Tsundere, England was smarter than he looked, with keen observational skills. He could figure out a persons weakness, secrets and interests merely by getting to know them, picking up on small details and observing. He had no intention of involving himself with drama or any form of mischief, he merely wished to be treated as an adult "I am not a child Angleterre, you can put me down!" he argued. He knew England was loving every second of this, he could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. He didn't want to be coddled, he didn't want to be patronised, but he was enjoying being treated like something precious, important. He loved that England was taking control and that he was at his mercy.
England smirked "Hate being babied Francis? Or just feeling helpless?" he chuckled, he knew France would never admit when he was wrong but he also knew he hated being called out. He knew France adored being spoiled by him but hated being teased, when he submitted control to England he loved it. He loved being babied, spoiled and loved, but he hated admitting to others that he was weak. He loved teasing France, getting a response from him, ever since they were kids. But he would never be actively hurtful towards France, he knew his limits and didn't enjoy hurting him in an abusive way. Both of them had been bullied in parts of their life and were protective over each other for a reason. He knew France would never admit he was clingy, bratty and craved attention, but became overwhelmed, embarrassed and obedient when given what he wanted.
France frowned, the internal storm of debate raging through him, he was crying from frustration internally, while also sobbing with pure joy. He loved it when England was dominant, the way his body burned, the way his skin tingled and how much it turned him on. He was loving that England was giving him what he wanted, parading him around and showing how important he was, protecting him. He knew if anyone questioned this situation he would glare them down, insult them or use sarcasm until they became uncomfortable. But he hated that England was teasing him, he hated that England knew his weaknesses and was doing this to get a rise out of him. "Why is Angleterre so mean? He's such a tease, why can't he be nice? But he's such a gentleman, that gleam in his eyes is so intense. Mon Dieu, I can't handle this. I'm so happy but why does he have to do this in front of everyone" he screamed internally. This moment would become a memory ingrained into his psyche, but this just felt embarrassing, somehow a private moment between them being shared with the world. It reminded him of the day that he married England and carried him like this in front of everyone after their vows, and then again on their wedding night. But this was different, he didn't want everyone to know he loved being babied and manhandled by England. He didn't want all the endless questions from everyone that he knew would follow. But then he loved the attention and the jealousy of others wishing they were in his place, he was so happy he was sure his soul had passed onto heaven.
England saw the look on his face and softened, he knew France was overthinking and debating everything. What did it matter what people thought? Why did their opinions matter at all? They loved each other, they were in a healthy, trusting and consenting relationship that was frankly none of their business. But his husband sought comfort and he would happily indulge him, lowering his head to kiss France on the cheek softly, the latter squeaking in surprise, screaming with joy internally. "Just pretend we are in one of Japan's mushy comics, like a princess or something. I think it's called BL" he sighed. Pretending they were in a romantic comedy, a novel or some other form of fantasy would make it easier for Francis. He'd heard about the graphic novels Japan produced about male same sex couples, the whole fanbase behind it, he had to admit the illustrations were good and the artists had talent, he had a few himself as a collection. Francis deserved to be babied, spoiled and adored, he deserved to feel loved and cherished. If he wanted to be carried, so be it, if he wanted head pats, forehead kisses and more he would happily indulge. He would give his husband whatever his heart desired, if it made him happy.
France blushed, his voice died in his throat and all he could manage was heart eyes. He couldn't be happier than he married the Englishman, falling in love all over again. Had England picked up on his fantasies? Had he been taking notes from the novels? Was England trying to role-play a manga scene? Just for him? A princely type carrying his crush to safety? This was the happiest moment of his life, his soul descending to heaven while he experienced pure bliss. He couldn't cope with this, it was all too much at once, cupping his face in embarrassment to hide his blush "Angleterre" he squealed. Muttering non sensical french under his breathe, England smiling fondly at him.
Japan watched as England carried France away in his arms towards an unknown location, he had never seen France so flustered before, he would have never guessed that England was in fact the dominant in their relationship, yet it made sense. He knew the two had been married for several centuries and admired the devotion the two of them shared for one another. This scene was very inspiring to his creative mind, snapping some pictures as the two walked away. Scribbling down notes in a notebook, inspiration for future works. "Perhaps I should write a new book, the Tsundere Prince England and shy French princess" he hummed, he wondered how they would feel when they found out.
