Comfort [1/1]

Apr 10, 2011 03:21

Title: Comfort [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: France/America
Warnings: Allusions to sex, established relationship, and copious amounts of fluff.
Summary: Francis, concerning dinner, is more accommodating than Alfred gives him credit for.
A/N: Written for liete for a Japan V-gift donation! She asked for something involving these two and food, and it’s always a pleasure to write for this pair. Enjoy!



It was always very easy to read Alfred’s moods, regardless of how well he thought he was hiding them. And Francis had noted that recently, the other had been feeling quite worn out. That condition was the worst of them all because fatigue and weariness were the hardest things to get Alfred to admit to. Occasionally, Francis would use seduction as a way to get Alfred to take a break for a little while, as it was surprisingly easy to distract Alfred with sex, something that both amused and enamored Francis. But at the pace Alfred was going during the week, Francis was genuinely worried the other would make himself ill. So another approach would have to be taken, something else Alfred had a hard time resisting.

Francis was looking over Alfred’s rather limited wine collection when he heard the front door open, followed by the soft thump of a bag being dropped on the carpet of the living room. Peeking his head out of the kitchen, Francis saw Alfred flop back onto the couch, removing his glasses briefly in order to rub at his eyes.

“Welcome back,” Francis said, walking out of the kitchen and across the living room to stand in front of Alfred. “Long day?”

“Mm?” Alfred slipped his glasses back on, expression brightening as he looked up at Francis. “Hey there. And nah, same old.” Francis quirked an eyebrow, because “same old” wasn’t exactly short or easy, but he made no comment about it, and instead, moved around to the back of the couch and put his hands on Alfred’s shoulders.

“You’re tense, lean forward.” Alfred did as told, letting out a soft, contented noise when Francis started rubbing his fingers in little circles against the muscle.

“Thanks.” He sighed, head falling forward when Francis started using the heel of his palm to work a knot loose. “You’re really the best, you know that?”

“Well, you’ll think even better of me when you hear I have food in the oven.” Francis smiled, pausing long enough to kiss the nape of Alfred’s neck before going back to the massage.

“Uh…” Alfred cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting on the couch cushion. “Listen, don’t get offended or think I don’t like your food or anything, because I do. I love your cooking even if I can’t pronounce half of what you make me-”

“So what is the problem?” Laughing, Francis stilled his hands, leaning forward to drape his arms over Alfred’s shoulders. “And I’m sure I won’t take offense to whatever you have to ask, mon amant.”

“I dunno, you get touchy about your culture and stuff,” Alfred murmured, still sounding uncertain, but he lifted one hand up in order to brush his fingers lightly down Francis’s forearm. “But…uh…I kinda don’t feel like anything fancy tonight? It’s been a long week and all I really want is comfort food, you know?”

“I do.” Francis moved around the couch so he could perch on the armrest and speak to Alfred more easily. “Which is why there’s mac and cheese in the oven instead of something fancy, as you put it.”

“Wait, you…?” Alfred glanced up at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “How-?”

“You’re never as good at hiding your emotions as you think.” Francis smiled, warmly, before cupping Alfred’s cheek. “I knew you were having a difficult week, and home cooking is always a cure for that. Granted, your home cooking is different than mine, and what’s cooking right now may have three different cheeses and a rosemary breadcrumb topping, but…”

“Wow.” Alfred laughed, nuzzling Francis’s hand a bit, his eyes bright with affection. “You really could tell, huh?”

“Of course.” Francis leaned forward, giving Alfred a soft kiss, because really, how could he resist when the other was looking at him like that? “You had me a little worried, actually.”

“’Bout what?” He did not give Francis a chance to answer until after he returned the kiss, slipping one arm around Francis’s waist.

“You’ll get sick if you keep wearing yourself out.” Alfred snorted derisively at the suggestion, shaking his head, but he shifted over on the couch a moment later in silent invitation for Francis to come join him. Francis did requested, leaning against Alfred once he settled down on the cushion.

“Can’t you also get sick from worrying too much?” Francis rolled his eyes, but Alfred just laughed, giving Francis’s side a small squeeze with his hand. “Dinner’s not ready yet?”

“Ten minutes more.” Francis let his hand rest on Alfred’s thigh. “I’m sure you can wait that long.”

“I’ll manage.” Alfred chuckled again, tilting his head so his cheek pressed against Francis’s hair. “But, hey, I wouldn’t say no to a vacation. You know what we should do?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to California, hasn’t it? We should go there, to the wine country. You can see how good I’ve gotten at making it!”

“Really? Because there’s next to no wine in your house.” Francis lifted his head up, grinning. “Although a trip to California does sound nice.”

“I don’t drink it as much as you,” Alfred protested. “And you like the idea?”

“Yes, very much.” He was rewarded by one of Alfred’s brilliant grins and a kiss that was a little too sloppy from excitement, but Francis hardly minded.

“You’ll love it, promise.” All anxiety and fatigue seemed gone, like it was never there, Alfred bright and energetic as Francis had always known him, as he liked the other best. And really, such a small thing as cooking outside of a gourmet menu for a night for such a nice reward. “So what’s for dessert?”

“Dessert?” Francis’s smile turned suggestive as he slid his hand a little further up Alfred’s thigh, voice dropping. “…don’t you enjoy things that are covered in chocolate?”

“Sure do.” Alfred shifted his hips up, very slightly, at the movement of Francis’s hand, already eager. A nice reward indeed. “S’like you can read my mind, sweetheart.”

A/N: Uh...this turned out to be far fluffier and far less about actual food than I expected? Oh, well. Hope it's what you were after, liete! These two never fail to cheer me up~

france, america, axis powers hetalia

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