New Relationship? (3/4)
anonymous
August 21 2009, 12:01:21 UTC
Don't be fooled by the (3/4) thing though, this is only for 'chapter one'. There's two chapters, so don't think I'm ending it here! ________________________________________________________________________
England blushed and tried to wiggle away. “You pervert; let go, I can-”
France pulled him back and chuckled, “You know I was just being a bully. Mon Angleterre, calm down and relax so that you can think about how to change yourself back again.”
England sighed and leaned back into France’s grasps, letting him run the towel through his hair, and then his fingers, neatening it out. France wrapped his arms around him and asked, “This spell, mon amour: you won’t be young forever, will you?”
The boy sighed, his eyes becoming heavy. A growl brought them out of the sober situation. France smiled down and asked, “Are you hungry, Angleterre?” Arthur elbowed him.
France left England in the dinning room, as he proceeded into the kitchen. England scold at this, wanting to help - youth or not, he wouldn’t be helping regardless! He watched the Frenchman turn, just before going into the kitchen, and winked, “I’ll make you something nice, okay?”
Before England could respond, the man disappeared. The boy got up onto the table and ran across it, straining to hear France in the kitchen. He sat there, cross-legged and bored out his mind. There was a chair a little from where he was, so he crawled towards it. England dangled his leg over the side of the table, trying to pull the chair closer. With a grunt, he moved his other leg over, hoping to get even closer. There was a large thump: that’s when he reliesed he knocked it over, somehow.
“Damn it!” he said softly, trying to pull himself back up onto the table. He froze: he couldn’t get back up, he was too weak and too much of his body was dangling over the edge. He held his breath and tried to pull himself up.
The boy bit his lip trying to resist crying, when two arms wrapped themselves around his waist. He kicked a little at the person before giving in. France asked, turning the boy around so that they were chest to chest, “What are you doing, Arthur?”
England looked away and blushed, “I wanted to go into the kitchen with you. I want to help!”
France chuckled lightly, laying a kiss on the boy’s forehead, “Mon petit, you can come and watch me, if you’re bored.”
England nodded his head and then blurted out, “But ONLY because I’m bored, and NOT because I want watch you cook or anything!”
France chuckled again. “If you say so…”
Dinner was ready within an hour. England munched into his food swiftly, as France looked on curiously. The boy looked up, after finishing his plate, and barked, “What are you looking at? Eat your own food, frog!”
The Frenchman smiled warmly and asked, “Are you full?”
England nodded, rubbing stomach. “Er… I think I ate too much-”
France leaned across the table, with his napkin, and wiped some crumbs from the side of England’s mouth. The boy sat there, eyes wide at the man in front of him. When the Frenchman moved away, England stuttered, “Why… why are you doing this?”
France looked at him and smiled, grabbing their dishes. “I want to be closer. I know that you like Alfred, but… I really want to- I mean to say is…”
“I don’t like Alfred!” The man looked at him. “I mean: not in that way! What is this really about?”
“Because I lo- I figured, we just needed a new union…”
“No you don’t! What was the first thing you were going to say?” France looked at him, contemplating, before looking away and walking into the kitchen without a word.
England sighed, placing his small head onto his arms in front of him. He decided to wait, this time, for France to return. After ten minutes, he did, looking at a very tired England. He chuckled, picking the boy up. “It’s past your bed time, isn’t it?”
The boy wiped his eyes and muttered, “I’m not a kid, frog: I don’t get tired so early.”
“Yes, but you’re a child now, and children get tired quicker then adults.” He saw England’s eye twitch. “If you want, I can go to bed with you-”
________________________________________________________________________
England blushed and tried to wiggle away. “You pervert; let go, I can-”
France pulled him back and chuckled, “You know I was just being a bully. Mon Angleterre, calm down and relax so that you can think about how to change yourself back again.”
England sighed and leaned back into France’s grasps, letting him run the towel through his hair, and then his fingers, neatening it out. France wrapped his arms around him and asked, “This spell, mon amour: you won’t be young forever, will you?”
The boy sighed, his eyes becoming heavy. A growl brought them out of the sober situation. France smiled down and asked, “Are you hungry, Angleterre?” Arthur elbowed him.
France left England in the dinning room, as he proceeded into the kitchen. England scold at this, wanting to help - youth or not, he wouldn’t be helping regardless! He watched the Frenchman turn, just before going into the kitchen, and winked, “I’ll make you something nice, okay?”
Before England could respond, the man disappeared. The boy got up onto the table and ran across it, straining to hear France in the kitchen. He sat there, cross-legged and bored out his mind. There was a chair a little from where he was, so he crawled towards it. England dangled his leg over the side of the table, trying to pull the chair closer. With a grunt, he moved his other leg over, hoping to get even closer. There was a large thump: that’s when he reliesed he knocked it over, somehow.
“Damn it!” he said softly, trying to pull himself back up onto the table. He froze: he couldn’t get back up, he was too weak and too much of his body was dangling over the edge. He held his breath and tried to pull himself up.
The boy bit his lip trying to resist crying, when two arms wrapped themselves around his waist. He kicked a little at the person before giving in. France asked, turning the boy around so that they were chest to chest, “What are you doing, Arthur?”
England looked away and blushed, “I wanted to go into the kitchen with you. I want to help!”
France chuckled lightly, laying a kiss on the boy’s forehead, “Mon petit, you can come and watch me, if you’re bored.”
England nodded his head and then blurted out, “But ONLY because I’m bored, and NOT because I want watch you cook or anything!”
France chuckled again. “If you say so…”
Dinner was ready within an hour. England munched into his food swiftly, as France looked on curiously. The boy looked up, after finishing his plate, and barked, “What are you looking at? Eat your own food, frog!”
The Frenchman smiled warmly and asked, “Are you full?”
England nodded, rubbing stomach. “Er… I think I ate too much-”
France leaned across the table, with his napkin, and wiped some crumbs from the side of England’s mouth. The boy sat there, eyes wide at the man in front of him. When the Frenchman moved away, England stuttered, “Why… why are you doing this?”
France looked at him and smiled, grabbing their dishes. “I want to be closer. I know that you like Alfred, but… I really want to- I mean to say is…”
“I don’t like Alfred!” The man looked at him. “I mean: not in that way! What is this really about?”
“Because I lo- I figured, we just needed a new union…”
“No you don’t! What was the first thing you were going to say?” France looked at him, contemplating, before looking away and walking into the kitchen without a word.
England sighed, placing his small head onto his arms in front of him. He decided to wait, this time, for France to return. After ten minutes, he did, looking at a very tired England. He chuckled, picking the boy up. “It’s past your bed time, isn’t it?”
The boy wiped his eyes and muttered, “I’m not a kid, frog: I don’t get tired so early.”
“Yes, but you’re a child now, and children get tired quicker then adults.” He saw England’s eye twitch. “If you want, I can go to bed with you-”
“Pervert!” And England kicked him in the gut.
Reply
Leave a comment