"You lost!" Joyfully exclaimed Francis, clapping his hands.
"Shut up, you frog!"
England was very embarrassed and, moreover, terribly angry.
Unbelievable, he lost to France! And now he needed to kiss Russia, who was not at all indignant, on the contrary, sat with a very pleased look, from which Arthur was even more frightened.
"Why did I agree to play with you?!" Chess, the guilty ones, according to Arthur, in his trouble, was dropped from the table. Hope sparked in the green eyes for at one moment. "Maybe we will not be...?"
"Arthur, you should be ashamed! Where is your glorious nobility and the honour of a gentleman?" Jokingly threaten him his finger France, laughing.
"Do not teach me!" England grumbled, turning to Russia, "What are you waiting for? Come on, faster! Cretins."
The kiss lasted only a few seconds, and, contrary to Arthur's expectations, Ivan's lips were soft and warm. Ordinary lips. France almost squeaked with admiration.
"Thank you, Francis, I owe you," Said Russia, when England, almost spitting, ran to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.
"Do not worry," Bonnefoy smiled charmingly. "You know, "catch" England, saying that he will not win - it's easy!"
Meanwhile, Kirkland, furiously wiping his lips with water, knew that this sensation would never wash away.