C'est La Vie

Warning: More intense kissing than the other ones...

Hope you like it!

# 04 Marshmallows

When France walked into the house later than usual that night, he didn't expect a shivering brooding shadow reflected on the wall by the flames in the fireplace. Nor did he expect those beautiful green eyes of his Angleterre to be staring dully into the fire, as he does when he commands some sort of magical communication through fireplaces, only with a more intense look on his face. In less than five seconds, France made his way across the living room and sat beside England, who had expected the Frenchman's swift arrival as he had heard the turn of the doorknob. It was then did France realize how mopey England looked, with a woolen blanket covering him and arms hugging his knees.

Quickly putting an arm around his shoulders, France asked with a charming smile, 'Bon soir, cheri. Pourquoi tu n'as pas dormi deja? Tu m'as attendu ?'

England, however, did not response to France's radiating charm (or so he told himself). He only turned his head and said sulkily, 'Don't even get me started on the French,' his eyes still boring into the firewood, 'not that I care, but you're unusually late tonight.' He thought France couldn't have seen his cheeks starting to go pink.

France only chuckled at his immensely mignon way of saying 'Why were you late? I was worried.' Ah, if only his Angleterre would stop bottling up his words. But he didn't mind anyway, this was what made him so adorable in the first place. He touched a gentle kiss to the side of England's forehead.

'Desole, cheri,' he said in the most apologetic tone, 'I was caught up in a meeting with Germany.' And as he saw a caterpillar being raised above his lover's eye, he swallowed slightly.

'Non, Gilbert wasn't there. Don't worry, Angleterre!' he pinched the Brit's cheek lightly before touching another kiss on there, 'I'm not cheating on you.'

No, England would not admit to the fact that his face was heating up at that very moment. Saving his embarrassment, France decided to look away and got up. 'Well then, I'm going to make us some hot chocolate. D'accord?' England nodded, clutching his arms even tighter around his shins.

When France returned with two mugs of hot chocolate with a plate of marshmallows beside them, he was surprised to see England finally turning to him to greet him with proper look in the eye. He handed the mug to him as he mumbled a quite 'thank you'.

Sipping his own mug of deluxe cocoa, he pulled England in his arms and settled under the blanket with him, sitting side-by-side on the massive rug. England suddenly broke the silence by clearing his throat nervously.

'And just to be polite, I'm going to answer your question from before. It's just because– ' then he stopped. He was about to tell him the reason why he hadn't gone to sleep already. It would've been way too embarrassing to tell France the truth! It wasn't his fault that the king-size bed felt extremely cold and empty with only him on it! He had been rolling on the bed several times, trying to find the best posture to sleep in. But nothing worked – he was annoyed to find that without the warmth enveloping his body and the nice, hairy chest pressing close to his back, he had no way to fall into a perfect sleep as usual. As if he would tell France that.

'Oui? What were you going to tell me?' His low voice brought England back from his fantasizing.

'…that it's warmer by the fireplace.' France couldn't help but let a smile play over his lips. He loved how he could just tell the hidden meaning of England's every word.

'Hey, Angleterre?' the Brit looked at him in question, 'Want some marshmallows?'

'Would love some,' England said honestly and held out a hand, not noticing the glint of kink in France's eyes. France took a pink marshmallow from the plate next to them, while putting both their mugs away. As he was about to grab the sweet from France's fingers, they speedily backed away. England frowned confusedly. France finally put on his signature smirk and purred, 'Na-uh, Angleterre. If you want it, you'll have to try taking it from me.'

With that, he put the marshmallow halfway in his mouth.

'You sick frog.'

But he didn't really follow up on the sound of his dissatisfaction. In fact, he tilted his head sideways, only to bite down the exposing half of the sweet. His lips brushed gently against France's, sending shivers of excitement down the Frenchman's spine. England quickly finished eating the half he'd gotten, noticing France's obvious enjoyment of their little game. France kept a loving stare into his green eyes, about to swallow his half of the candy, when England decided to whisper right in front of his lips, 'Na-uh', he mocked him, 'I want the other half as well.'

The Brit inched up closer and ran his tongue around France's lips, teasingly poking the candy in the middle. France couldn't help but let out a husky purr, trying to suck back on the marshmallow. But England was having none of that – he skilfully slipped his tongue into France's mouth, sweeping the pink candy to himself.

France being France, would not let the shorter blond have all the fun. He quickly tilted his head back, feigning escape. That only made England press eagerly closer to him, his palms now pushing on the floor for support. France held up his hand, his thumb drawing lazy circles on England's flushing cheeks, then down his neck. Every time when England thought he was going to claim it his candy for sure, France would lean back a little more. The flavour of the marshmallow only sweetened their sudden outpour of passion. They continued their little battle until England was finally lying on top of France, his fingers stroking the long blond curls.

Contented with the playfulness that his lover was up to, France lapped his tongue over England's with a wet noise, pushing the now extremely soggy marshmallow to the side of his jaw. England gasped at the intimate sensation, gripping his legs on both sides of France's thighs. He wasn't going to lose that damn marshmallow to France. With an inward smirk, he twisted his tongue around France's, before running it down deeper. The tip of his tongue felt the marshmallow, and with a suck that earned him a sexy groan from the Frenchman, he quickly pulled away, bringing the wanted sweet with him.

France licked his lips sensually, relishing the taste and rather disappointed that their kiss didn't go on for longer. 'That was one hot English kiss, cheri,' he said in between quick kisses, keeping England's lips close to his. England still atop him, his reddened cheek and light panting made France itch for more.

Abruptly, France started for the plate of marshmallows. He kissed England lovingly once more on the lips, hope and lust reflecting in his eyes. Knowing full well what his lover was secretly signalling, England nodded at the plate when they parted.

'Upstairs.'

France grinned brightly, pressing their lips together once again with bliss.

A/N:

- blushes -

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hahaha School term's at an end now, and we mostly just go to school to do nothing. I end up with plenty of free time during class... the last chapter and this one was the product of the heated discussion between a bunch of yaoi fangirls...

A tout a l'heure!