March 15th, 2014 - Out on the Town
AUTHOR: seecarrun
March 15th, 2014 - Out on the Town
"You need sexual release, mon cher."
England coughed, accidentally spitting tea all over his paperwork, which he quickly, frantically, made to clean up. "E-excuse me?!" he cried.
France shrugged, resting his head casually in his hand and smiling coyly. "A simple observation, Rosbif, if the meeting today was any indication. You are tense enough to snap any moment."
England blushed, still fiddling uselessly with his ruined paperwork and refusing to make eye contact. "I-I have simply been very busy, frog. Don't make assumptions."
"I am sure." England opened his mouth to argue, but France held up his hand to shush him.
"Now, go home, find something that isn't completely répugnant to wear, and meet me at this address at exactly eight-thirty." He handed England a slip of paper with the address of a high-end club downtown. "Au revoir!"
"What makes you think I'll even be there?" he huffed in irritation.
France just winked and waved as he left the room.
"So, why is it I am wasting my time here with you, again?"
France grinned, his head swiveling from side to side as he took in his surroundings. "We are here, mon ami, to sample what this city has to offer."
England made a face. "So you're trying to set me up."
"Oui."
"Lovely."
"You will thank me."
"I'll have you know," England began, sticking his nose into the air, "I have no problem finding a willing partner on my own."
France smirked. "I am sure. After all, who does not want a man who keeps a picture of a cat in his wallet? Ah! There is a fine specimen!"
And before England could object or shoot back a defense of his precious little Scottish Fold, Crumpet, France was waving over an attractive, curvy young brunette and asking, "Have you met mon cher ami Arthur?"
Thus began the most impressive display of pathetic, intentionally horrible flirting France had ever had the misfortune of bearing witness. Every man and woman that left their table did so practically sprinting, England driving them away with practically every bad-dating trick in the book, from over sharing Crumpet stories, to purposely referring to himself as England, making himself look crazy.
By the end of the night, France was physically exhausted. England sat across from him at their little table, sipping delicately at his drink and continuing to glance around unimpressed. "Tsk, talk about lacking in potential," he mumbled. France had to hold himself back from screaming.
Thankfully, the door to the club opened to reveal a familiar face. France sighed in relief as America walked into the dim room, dressed not near appropriately for such a prestigious club, but France ignored it in favor of having an ally in dealing with their prickly English friend.
"Alfred!" he called, waving him over. "Over here, mon cher! Come join us!"
"America?" England gasped quietly. Suddenly, the previously aloof nation was sitting straight, running fingers through his hair, and adjusting his tie and collar, looking for the first time all night like he actually cared about his appearance.
Huh, France mused as America strode over to their table. That was certainly interesting…
"Hey dudes!" America chirped, giving them a little wave. "What are you guys doing here?"
England, suddenly all eyes and legs, his hand gently caressing his neck just below his ear, shrugged casually. "Oh, just out for a bit of a drink after that bore of a meeting today," he sighed, looking up at the younger nation from under long eyelashes.
America, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice a thing. "Word! Me too! I heard this place was tight, so I wanted to check it out myself, ya know?"
France watched the exchange with wide eyes as the puzzle pieces fell into place. After spending the last few hours watching the exact opposite of flirting come out of England, it wasn't hard to see exactly what was going on here.
No wonder England hadn't wanted to sample the menu, he had a craving only American beefcake could satisfy.
"What on earth are you smiling at, frog?" England snapped, breaking France from his thoughts.
France simply grinned knowingly, waving off England's question with a giddy little wave. "Do not mind me, mon cher. Just lost in thought." England narrowed his eyes, obviously not believing him, but chose not to address it.
"Well," America said happily, clapping his hands. "I'm gonna go grab a drink from the bar, and then I'll join you guys!"
England downed his drink on one gulp. "I'll come with you, lad."
France watched their backs and they disappeared into the crowd, smiling a little as heard America asking England how Crumpet was doing these days as they neared the bar.
He finished off the last bit of wine in his glass, put it back down on the table, and slipped out of his chair to join them, pleased the night didn't have to be a complete waste after all.