"Désolé," the drummer said. "We could only find one guy and…well, don't do anything weird, oui? We can't find anyone else."

France sighed. "Bon sang…" A slight frown crossed the Frenchman's face. He had been planning to perform another song he had decided to call 'Fall In Love, Mademoiselle', but the guitarist had backed out at the last moment.

"Will 'e be coming soon?"

"Ahh…oui. 'e had to pick up 'is guitar."

"Merci, mon cher."

After only about a minute of waiting, a shadow appeared at the open door.

"Oh, bloody hell." A grumpy English voice spoke up.

"Hmm?" France lifted his head to stare at his lifelong frenemy. "Angleterre, what are you doing 'ere?" France's eye travelled over the blond Brit until he saw the guitar clutched in the short man's hand. "Ohonhonhon, you came to help moi, non?"

England scowled. "I'm only helping you if you promise not to be a pervert for a least a week."

France gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest in mock hurt. "I am merely spreading the l'amore!"

"Bloody frog! You called groping random people 'spreading love'?"

"Um, monsieur?" The two Nation's head whipped to look at pianist who had just spoken up. "We do not 'ave much time."

"Oui, oui. Je suis désolé. Angleterre? You can play zat, oui?"

"'Course I can, git!"

France crossed his fingers, hoping the Englishman would be right about that. He wouldn't want his beautiful to be ruined. Then again…England did also say his cooking was good, and that…stuff was the complete opposite. How did Amérique describe it? 'Petrified couch stuffing'…yes, that seemed accurate. Merde. Too late now

Love is a wonderful thing,
But it's also a fleeting thing
The night is short,
So come—fall in love, mesdemoiselles!

France held his breath as England began on the guitar, afraid that he would be terrible, but his eyes flew open in surprise at the sound of the perfectly played guitar. Merde, he's good, was all he thought. But the Brit had stopped too quickly for the Frenchman to catch a glance of him playing.
Stardust overflows
In the dreamlike capital of love
See, if you look around,
Everyone whispers of love in this rose-colored world

When that blue sigh turns crimson,
Certainly you'll become even more beautiful than before

Risk it all
Because the you who lives with love is so very beautiful
So it's okay to walk with your head held high

Mademoiselle,
You, mademoiselle,
Are more beautiful than any flower

This time, the instance he stopped singing, he turned to look at the Brit. There was a slight smirk on his face as his flingers flew over the strings. Mon dieu, he makes it look easy. It was true, the way he played; he seemed at ease. This is worth not groping for a week.

Sweet premonitions, swaying thoughts
That's the proof that you've fallen in love

Laugh with all your heart,
But it's okay to cry with all your heart too
Your eyes that stare straight ahead are so lovely

Risk it all
Because the you who lives with love is so very beautiful
It's good to walk with your head held high

Mademoiselle,
You, mademoiselle,
Are more beautiful than the stars

A wine glass, the shining tour Eiffel,
The sparkling roadside trees at the Arc de Triomphe
In this town overflowing with glimmering sights,
You are now the one shining most brightly

Mademoiselle,
You, mademoiselle,
Are more beautiful than anyone.
Mon cher amour!

The smile stayed on England's face for a brief moment, before the scowl came back at force.

"What the bloody hell are you staring at, frog?!" he snapped

"You, mon cher," France purred back. The Brit spluttered, caught off guard. "Wanker!" He finally managed to get out, before spinning on heel, and swiftly leaving the room.

"Ohonhonhon, Angleterre! You should release your sexual tensions, non?" He called after the messy haired man.

"GIT!"

France stared dreamily after him for a moment, before a quiet cough disturbed him from his sexual fantasies. He turned to see the rest of the band staring at him, somewhat scandalised.

"Quoi?" He questioned innocently, before turning back to continue his dreams of l'amore.

AN: First APH story, yay! (Not like people care…)

Yeah…I don't actually shop FrUK. I only really ship GerIta and Spamano ^ ^

Only did this cuz I was listening to the song and I dunno…just thought of it? Iggy plays guitar in a different song anyways (I think)…

Oh yah! English translation of the song is here (I know the link won't work, soorrryy!): post/56926919869/koiseyo-mademoiselle-fall-in-love-mademoiselle

Also, I didn't insult Iggy's eyebrows throughout the entire