"Wow," Germany did indeed sound surprised when they turned up at the next meeting with their paperwork complete.
Most of the EU nations had finished, except for Antonio and Greece that had stupidly been paired together.
"I wanted to work with Lovi!" Antonio wailed when Germany questioned this, "but you had to keep him and Feli to yourself!"
After many tears and accusations. Some of which the rest of them didn't even believe Germany capable of; the German stopped bothering the two about their lack of work.
"I can't believe you and Arthur have gone this long without starting an argument" Gilbert grinned, leaning on Francis' shoulder, "usually Lud's already shouting at you by now..."
"Yeah..." Francis glanced sideways at Arthur, trying to remember the feeling of his lips on his and how perfect his body had felt in his arms.
Giving a small grin, the Prussian leant close to whisper in Francis' ear, "I couldn't help but notice that hicky on England's neck, you don't know how it got there do you?" His smirk only grew broader when Francis' face coloured and he made an embarrassed sound.
"Are you serious?" Antonio bounded into the conversation, "did you actually sleep with him?"
"Of course not!" Francis snapped, a little too loudly.
Everyone turned to look at him, including Arthur. Who blushed with the most adorable face Francis had ever laid eyes on.
"Of course I don't agree with killing bulls in that stupid game of yours!" He turned to Antonio, clearing up the mess he'd put himself in, "it's ridiculously cruel!"
"Oh don't be a spoil sport!" The Spaniard snapped back, "it wouldn't be interesting if you couldn't kill them."
Gilbert calmed his two friends down, pulling them to a corner of the room that was a little more quiet.
"So tell us what happened then?" He insisted, giving Antonio a tap round the head to stop him talking about bulls.
"Well... I was meant to be on this date with this woman... you know, the one I told you about?"
Both Antonio and Gilbert nodded.
"But... Well... I couldn't stop thinking about him the whole time... So I went back and found he'd been trying to cook and had burnt himself then cut himself on the plate; so I helped dab him up... Then I ordered pizza... And while we were waiting we sort of kissed..."
"Sort of?" Antonio and Gilbert had never heard Francis use such a term in a sentence before.
"I had him down beneath me on the sofa; then the doorbell rang and I had to go get the pizza... We haven't spoken since..." He breathed a sad sigh, "I'm not even sure I want to talk about it..."
"But I thought you liked him?" Antonio tilted his head innocently, earning a glare and a 'hush' from Francis.
"Of course I don't!" Francis growled, but the looks he got from Gilbert and Antonio said they didn't believe him.
This was getting out of hand, he couldn't have people actually thinking he liked Arthur.
After all... He couldn't like Arthur... He couldn't stand him, he hated everything about him; they'd always been like that, hadn't they?
There were always those odd clips they shared where they actually seemed to genuinely be doing something for the other out of a gesture of friendship; but that stuff didn't last.
He had to set this right.
"I'd better not be paired with him next time" Francis said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "he's like a baby; he can't take care of himself properly, it's really exhausting having to keep an eye on him all the time,"
"what are you doing?" Gilbert hissed under his breath, but Francis ignored him.
Feeling frustrated and angry at what he was saying, Francis stepped up a notch, "did he actually think I'd sleep with him after kisses like that?"
All eyes turned on the Brit; who's face was slowly moving between embarrassment, hurt, and anger.
"Who'd want to sleep with you BASTARD!" Arthur shouted suddenly, making everyone jump, "you attacked me you nymphomaniac!"
The Brit's body was trembling all over. Francis just wanted to die there on the spot, or at least be able to run; but he had to complete the image that he wasn't interested in him.
"Yeah because that was what you were saying when I stuck my tongue down your throat" he smirked, indicating on his own neck where he knew Arthur's hicky to be. He saw the Brit's hand immediately leap to it. "I thought I heard you moan when I did that."
Arthur's eyes were watery and straining; like the Brit was trying to hold back the tears. "Like I'd ever let you do anything like that with my consent, I HATE YOU!" With that Arthur shot from the room before anyone could react to what had just passed between the two.
"That was mean," Italy was the first to speak, staring at the door where Arthur had disappeared.
Arthur didn't come back for the second half of the meeting, and Francis was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Already hating himself for what he'd just said; maybe he didn't need to go that far.
The meeting finished at about Five, and one seat was still empty.
"France" Germany beckoned him over, while all the other nations were preparing to go back to their hotel rooms or out for dinner somewhere in Berlin.
Guiltily Francis made his way over to Germany, he knew what was coming.
"Don't you think that was a little uncalled for?" The stoic German questioned, brushing Italy aside for a moment.
Francis just nodded.
"You're just denying the inevitable like that" Germany sighed, shaking his head, "that speech didn't fall anyone except England."
"I don't get why everyone keeps saying that" Francis grumbled, not able to look Germany in the eye.
"Because we all know you love him" Italy jumped in, only to be pushed back again by Germany, "you're the country of love, shouldn't you know that?"
Before Francis could protest again, Germany held up his hand.
"Look, he's probably out in Berlin somewhere getting pissed; go and find him before he gets arrested for something," fixing a warning look on the Frenchman he let Italy lead him from the meeting hall, leaving Francis alone.
Was he really in love with England?
The thought seemed ridiculous, but something about it seemed to tug at his chest.
"Let's go then" he sighed, pulling his coat over his shoulders, ready to search every pub in Berlin if he had to. Arthur had certainly had enough time to get drunk.
Arthur glanced up, then lay his head back down on the counter. He'd try again when the room stopped spinning.
"Want another," Arthur held up his empty bar glass the man behind the counter,
"Sorry, I think you've had enough" the man told him, taking the glass from his hand, "you should get home while you can still remember where home is."
Feeling a sudden rage welling up Arthur managed to pull himself to his feet.
"You can't do that!" He snapped, almost jumping over the counter to get his glass back, "I want more!"
"Well you can't have it" the barman told him firmly, "do you want me to ring the police?"
Arthur was about to shout something back, when someone took his arm and pulled him away. "Don't worry, we'll take care of him," a voice he didn't recognise.
He could hear alarm bells going off in his head, but with the way the floor wouldn't stay still, that was the least of his worries.
Another man had taken hold of his other arm, they seemed to be leading him outside the pub.
"Where are we going?" He managed to slur, trying to remember what he usually did in these situations.
He was drunk... What did that mean he had to do?
Feeling a tremble in his stomach, and the threat of vomit in his throat he remembered. Concentrating his magic on recovering.
He'd almost forgotten the men that had pulled him out of the pub.
But he was brought back to their presence when he felt his head jerk against a wall.
His magic was beginning to clear his senses, but not fast enough it seemed.
One of the men had pinned his wrists to the wall while the other started kissing him.
Trying to see through his drunken fog, Arthur struggled against the one that was holding him. What was going on? Hadn't he been in a pub a moment ago?
"Get off" he managed to grunt, struggling a little harder, "what do you think you bastards are doing!"
"Look at this" one of them called to his mate.
Arthur shivered as his shirt was pulled open revealing his bare skin to the cold night air.
They were studying the hicky on his neck that Francis had left.
"Do you think he's got a boyfriend?" One of them asked the other worriedly. But hands continued to touch Arthur's body, so he assumed at least one had decided it didn't matter.
"I-I do" Arthur stammered, hoping they wouldn't be able to tell he was lasting, "you let me go, or he'll find you and make you regret the day you stepped out for a drink!"
"I'm so scared" they laughed. Arthur felt himself turned so he was now facing the wall.
Feeling sober enough, he tried to strike out at his captors.
Someone took hold of his head and slammed it hard into the wall, making him disorientated again. The same hand held him still while he felt an unfamiliar mouth trace over his neck.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard that when my friend starts you won't be able to stand" the harsh voice whispered in his ear, biting Arthur's shoulder blade.
Arthur could feel blood trickling down his forehead. The blood and the panic was making him dizzy; maybe it would be better if he just fainted now.
Then a hard sound echoed just past his left ear.
The one behind him was hit backwards, and the other ran to his aid; leaving Arthur to slump to the floor trying to make sense of what was happening.
It sounded like a fight.
Turning his head, and managing to get up the energy to heal his injury Arthur thought he could catch sight of Francis... Wait, Francis!
The French nation had hold of one of the men by the scruff of his shirt, "did you touch him!" He spat, "did either of you fuck him!"
"N-No" stammered the man, scampering off when Francis dropped him to the floor.
"Francis?" Arthur was confused, or was that just the concussion?
"Merde, Cher what did they do to you?" Francis bent down beside him, brushing the blood from his forehead, and examining the new love bites with distaste.
"Like you care" Arthur managed to grumble, before Francis' arms scooped underneath him, lifting him off his feet.
"Let's get you back to the hotel" the Frenchman whispered, adjusting Arthur in his arms so they were both comfortable.
Francis couldn't look at Arthur, but Arthur stared at him with amazement the whole way back.
A few people stopped to try and help but Francis dismissed them, not putting the Brit down until they were in his hotel room.
"Don't I hate you?" Arthur asked, finally managing to focus on Francis' face,
"Probably" Francis agreed, leaving Arthur for a moment to fetch a wet towel from the ensuite bathroom to dab the blood away from Arthur's hairline and face.
"You said some nasty stuff" the Brit mumbled, when he face was clean again; finally taking note that he was shirtless. He must have lost his shirt back in that alley.
"I'm sorry," Francis closed his eyes, "Italy was right... Seeing those bastards doing that to you, it made me realise..."
"What?" Arthur felt a small flutter in his chest.
The feeling only sped up when Francis pulled him into a soft chaste kiss; this time not holding Arthur into it.
For a moment the Brit relaxed, then he pushed Francis away.
"I'm not falling for that again" he murmured, tears beginning to fill his emerald eyes again.
"Look, I made all that stuff up back in the meeting," Francis pulled the smaller man into a tight hug, "I just didn't know... I mean..."
Arthur felt himself being directed down beneath Francis on the bed.
"Je t'aime Arthur..." Francis whispered in his ear, sounding like it was taking all his energy just to utter those few words.
The Brit felt his breath catch in his throat.
"Y-You're lying" he stammered, but he didn't push the Frenchman away, "please don't tease me like this,"
"I'm not lying!" Francis gritted his teeth, sitting up so he was straddling Arthur's waist, "Dieu! Je t'aime! I love you! Can't you understand that!"
"You... Love... Me...?" Arthur processed it slowly, "but how could you?"
"I don't know," Francis closed his eyes, why was Arthur asking such stupid questions?
"But you're so... I mean... Good looking," Arthur blushed, "you like good looking people, like I said last time..."
"And I told you last time, you are cute, and you certainly are very attractive" Francis pressed his mouth to Arthur's again, letting his tongue trail over the hickies that weren't his. Working over the marks till his own covered them. "See cher, you're mine" he grinned proudly, "and whether you love me back or not, be prepared that I won't ever let anybody else touch you."
The Brit's face was deep red and he was chewing on his bottom lip. "Do you really mean it?"
"How many more times do I need to say it!" Francis snapped, pressing his lips even more forcefully on the other man, pressing his tongue in this time; pressing his knee against Arthur's lower regions.
The Brit moaned, wrapping his fingers into Francis' hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Every need in his body was craving the Frenchman's touch.
Arthur arched his back when Francis began trailing his tongue down his chest; striking out against the hardened nipples, swirling around one while his finger played with the other.
Then suddenly Francis drew back looking Arthur hard in the face.
"What?" Arthur was a little intimidated by the look.
"If we're going to do this you have to say you love me first" Francis told him stubbornly, folding his arms.
"What!" Arthur squirmed, did Francis know how damaging that would be to his pride? ...What was he saying, of course Francis knew, that was why he was making him do it.
"I'm waiting cher," Francis let a small smile creep over his pout; grinding down a little on Arthur's hips.
Keeping his mouth closed, Arthur only opened it to gasp when Francis took hold of his hardened member beneath his boxers.
"God" Arthur choked, clutching at the bedsheets breathing hard, "I-I..." He closed his eyes, struggling to get the words out, until Francis gave a small twitch of his wrist. "I love you!" Arthur shouted, probably load enough for every one in the hotel to hear.
"Thank you" Francis grinned, leaning back to kiss the Brit again in gratitude. "You always had a way with words" he teased, helping Arthur shift his trousers off.
Arthur growled, cursing when Francis touched him, making his erection twitch. Arthur bit his lip again, trying hold back the sounds that were threatening to explode from inside him.
"Don't do that" Francis prised his jaws away from his lip with concern, "I don't want to see you hurting yourself..." He smiled when Arthur moaned his name when he began to stroke his fingers along the erection.
Without even having to see him, Francis could imagine Arthur's cute blush when he lowered his mouth over the other's lower regions.
He darted out his tongue to lick away some of the pre-cum.
"Why are you topping anyway?" Arthur managed to ask between gasping Francis' name.
"Are you seriously asking that?" Francis smirked, replacing his mouth with his hand instead, running it along the length.
Bending down to kiss the Brit again, feeling a jerk as the smaller man cummed against his chest.
"Oh God sorry" Arthur apologised, suddenly remembering that the other man was still wearing his shirt.
Laughing, Francis brushed him off, lifting the shirt over his head, "I don't mind cher" he smiled. Glancing round the room, "you don't have any lube do you?"
The English nation flushed, looking annoyed, "of course I don't!" He snapped, "do you think I expect this sort of thing to happen on a business meeting!"
"So innocent~" The Frenchman beamed, pulling Arthur to his chest in a hug, "you're just too mignon!"
"Shut up Wanker" Arthur grumbled, pressing his own mouth against Francis'. He hesitated, pulling back from the kiss, "what are we going to do then?"
Thinking hard, Francis held out his hand.
"Suck" he ordered, wiggling his fingers in front of the Brit's eyes.
"I beg your pardon!" The Brit demanded, glaring at the Frenchman,
"If you don't I'll just stick them in anyway" Francis warned, making to move his fingers towards Arthur's entrance.
"Wait!" The English nation pulled his hand back, slowly opening his mouth and leading Francis' fingers towards his mouth.
Blushing, Francis felt his own need growing harder with the feeling of Arthur's tongue swirling round his fingers, drenching them in saliva. He caught the Brit's grin when he let out an involuntary moan.
He pulled his fingers back sharpish when Arthur gave one of them a sharp nip.
Glaring at the smirking Brit, Francis flipped him onto his front, giving his arse a sharp slap with his dry hand.
"Fucking moron!" Arthur growled, trying to turn again.
Francis inserted his first finger, and felt Arthur immediately tense around it; letting out a pained cry, biting the pillows beneath him.
"Sorry" Francis mumbled, kissing the Brit's shoulder blades softly, feeling a little guilty at having turned him so they weren't facing each other. But he couldn't move him now, he had to finish the job first.
He let his second digit join the first, scissoring out for more space, while trying to sooth the Brit's tears.
Directing his fingers around, Francis felt himself brush against the right spot.
"What the hell was that!" Arthur arched his back, moaning into the pillows.
"Mon cher you must know what a prostate is... Unless..." He gave a small chuckle, watching the Brit's whole body turn red with embarrassment, "Arthur, you're not a virgin are you? After all those stories you bragged about in your pirate days?"
"Shut up and get on with it" was the only muttered reply he got.
Feeling confident there was now enough space, Francis helped Arthur turn around onto his back, kissing him lovingly before directing himself inside, trying to remember where that prostate had been.
Arthur had lifted his waist off the bed to meet Francis' thrusts, letting out exclamations of joy and pain between moans.
The Frenchman's hands were clamped round his arse, helping the Englishman move against his thrusts.
When he found the spot he'd been looking for, Francis picked up the pace; almost pulling himself out of the Brit with every thrust, slamming back into him with all his force.
He could see the Brit clutching at the sheets, with his bright green eyes swimming with tears of pain. He wasn't going to admit that he couldn't take much more.
Lifting Arthur to sit on his lap he pulled a passionate kiss out of the Brit, pressing their chests close together so he could feel the aroused nipples against his skin.
With a grunt he released inside the Englishman, silencing Arthur's final cry with a gentle sealing kiss.
He let Arthur lie back down on the covers looking exhausted.
Francis pulled his dripping cock from Arthur's entrance climbing off him to examine his thin body once more before lying down next to him and pulling the covers over them both.
"I don't belong to anybody Frog..." Arthur managed to whisper just loud enough for Francis to hear, he paused contemplating the situation, then added, "...but I can lend myself to you... Of course only when it's in my best interests..."
"Allez dormir mon petit lapin" Francis smiled, pressing a finger to Arthur's lips to hush him, "I love you,"
"Je t'aime Frog..." With that Arthur fell asleep, snuggling against Francis' chest, while the Frenchman wrapped his arms around the other's form.
""Je ne vais jamais te laisser partir"." I'm never letting you go.