A/N This chapter is pure fluff xD Some question mark is to be strightened out (I think) but it's really just pure fluff. Because I wanted to write it and I thought you finally deserve some Franada fluff x3 This isn't the end, nu-uh, we still have a few chapters to go 8D I can't just leave Arthur like that, can I? And this chapter is for a good friend of mine who I know reads this. She's going through some hard times, and I'm sorry it's not DenNor fluff, but I'll get there. This is for you Den (L). Hope you all enjoys the fluff 8D Please review, since I felt a bit awkward, and it's my first fluff in a while =_= Enjoy~

I DON'T OWN HETALIA.

CHAPTER 13

Francis came over on a whim. Like killing two birds with one stone, he needed a place to stay, and he wanted to make a move on Mattie. Now that he knew, he was going to fix it. He felt a bit bad he'd ruin a perfectly fine relationship but all is fair in love and war.

As he sits in his little love's lap, arms wrapped around his neck, he feels like a teenager again. He actually isn't that old, twenty-six in human years, he's felt so old these last weeks. Pretending to love someone is tiring. He sighs and presses his forehead against Matthew's, making him jump a bit.

"How do you feel about him?" Francis asks softly and looks into his eyes.

Matthew blushes when he comes back to reality and realizes that he and Francis are only inches apart. "F-feel about who?"

"Gilbert. You have been together for a long time" Francis says and loosens his arms a bit to point out his point. They're still together and he's making Matthew cheat. Even if he truly loves the boy, Gilbert is still his friend. A very good one too. Who probably knows what Francis feelings are… He needs to talk to him later.

"W-well… He's nice, yes… But I never fell in love with him if you know what I mean… And besides, you're one to talk. You were together with Arthur for, what, two years?"

"Five" Francis climbs off the couch and walks over to the TV and turns it off. "And the difference is that I actually felt affection to him. I was a bit in love with him."

"What do you mean "a bit"?" Matthew pouts when his warm body moves away, and he follows him with his eyes when he makes way to the fireplace. "Either you are in love or you aren't."

"Don't tell me stuff about love" Francis smirks at him and looks for something to light the wood inside the fireplace with. "You can be in love with two people, yes, but then it's not like true love. It's more like crushes; you have a crush on someone when you're in love with another. Um… matches?"

Matthew points on the board above the stones, still looking suspicious. "So… you had a crush on Arthur?"

"You can also call it attracted to" Francis drags the matches along the sides of the box and lights them up, throwing them onto the wood so the fire starts. "Like he said, we were more like fuck-buddies."

Matthew's look changes to a chocked one, fuck-buddies? He never thought Francis would take that word in mouth ever. He who talked so smoothly about love, the feelings and calling sex "make love" now actually said "fuck-buddies".

The French comes over to the couch again, noticing the confused look on the Canadians face. He frowned and leaned down to kiss him. He didn't like that face. He wanted it to go away, he wanted his little love to smile and blush again, and he was really cute when he did that. When he pulled away, he smirked satisfied, Matthew blushed.

"Quoting Arthur" he explained and took the blankets thrown over the couch in his arms, together with all the pillows. Once again Matthew looks confused at him, wondering what he's doing. When he sees that Francis puts them down in front of the fire, making a improvised bed, he blushes again. That was also one thing they did when they lived together. On stormy nights when Matthew didn't want to sleep alone or leave the fire, Francis made them a bed in front of it, and they cuddled under the blankets, Francis telling him stories all night long. They often fell asleep there too, to cozy to move away until it was breakfast time.

Francis sat down on the blanket; his legs crossed and grinned at Matthew. He knew the Canadian loved it. He had always had a sweet spot for anything warm, cozy and safe. Such as sleeping in front of the fireplace when the storm outside rocked the house. He pats the spot beside him, silently telling him to come there and sit with him. The younger nods, and slowly he rises from the couch and walks over to the blanket bed. He falls down into Francis' opened arms, welcoming the embrace and hugging him back. He nuzzles into Francis shoulder, inhaling the scent he has wanted to smell for so long. He feels warm right through, both from the fire heating up their bodies and from Francis, finally touching him like he wanted to.

Francis lets himself fall back on the cushions, taking Matthew down with him, never letting go. He rolls on his side, so he can face Matthew who looks at him with love in his eyes. Francis reaches out and captures a lock of the strawberry blond hair, twisting it around his finger, playfully tugging it. Matthew giggles, and a faint blush spreads over his cheeks. Francis wants to claim it, claim the boy as his, marking every bit of showing skin, and even more under those clothes. He want to touch, feel, love. But he can't. Not yet, not until Matthew has broken up with Gilbert.

"What are you going to do?" he whispers, not wanting to destroy the atmosphere, but still needs to ask.

"With what?" Matthew whispers back, reaching out to touch the others cheek.

"Gilbert."

Matthew's fingers pause against his cheek, and he sees his eyes narrow. He thinks about it, he knows. He wonders what hides underneath those locks of hair, what the Canadian thinks about. He wants to know everything about this man. This beautiful man whom he love with whole his heart.

"I have to break up" Matthew whispers finally, moving closer to Francis so their chest's press together and he reaches down to intertwine their fingers. "I'm not in love with him… I just thought it would fill the hole in my heart if I was in a relationship… But that hole is filled now. With you."

He leans forward and presses their lips together, lovingly squeezing his hand and touching wherever he can touch with the other. He feels Francis smile against his lips and his fingers tangling themselves more in his hair. He never wants to let go, it's here, in Francis arms where he feels safe. He feels all warm inside, when their tongues are connecting and they press closer all the time. In the end they had to pull away to catch some air and they both panted. The locked eyes, both filled with lust and love, and they couldn't help but smile.

"You're so beautiful" Francis whispers and strokes away a lock of hair that has fallen out of place during their make-out-session and was hanging over his eyes. "I can't stop look at you…"

"I don't want you to" Matthew answers, never breaking eye-contact. "I don't want you to look at anyone else…"

Matthew knows he's being selfish, but he never want those blue eyes to look away. He wants to be the only one being looked at with those eyes. And he wants to only look at Francis. Observe every curve of his body, every feature of his face, how those blond locks frame them, and the smile playing on his lips and in his eyes. He reaches out to trace his fingers along his cheekbones again a smile of pure happiness plastered on his face.

"I love you Francis" He says and buries his face in the crook of his neck. He can feel the others grip shift so they both lay comfortably and the blanket being pulled up to tuck in them both.

"I love you too, Mathieu" comes the soft reply.

"Chante pour moi?" he mumbles into Francis skin, and he can feel it when he chuckles. But only seconds later Francis softly starts to sing a French lullaby, and with the song echoing in his head, Matthew falls asleep, safe and madly in love, in front of the dancing fire.