What's In a Name [1/?]
anonymous
June 1 2009, 16:02:30 UTC
(Anon from above. This is my first fill, too, and I hope you enjoy it, anon? Also, apologies for the lame title. Fail fill is fail? :'D)
“You’re better off not knowing.”
Matthew’s eyebrows rose in confusion and slight surprise. “Why not? I’m just curious.”
From beside him, Alfred shuffled in his seat. “It’s…” The blue eyed nation scratched the back of his head, a nervous-slash-embarrassed gesture, the Canadian noted. “A bit embarrassing, I admit. And Arthur named me, after all. He might’ve been drunk, too, at that time. Still, better left off as a secret.” Alfred gave his brother an apologetic grin, but Matthew did not diverge from the topic.
“Oh god,” Matthew blinked. “He… he didn’t.” He sounded genuinely scandalized, and had the right to be, really, considering his guess. Dropping his voice below a whisper, aware that there were various nations mingling about in the party - England included - he asked, “It’s…it’s not a swear word, is it?”
“What…? Wait, no!” The bespectacled nation laughed. “No, he did not call me Alfred Fuck Jones. Really, it’s much more complicated that that.”
“What’s more complicated?”
Matthew saw Alfred literally jump in surprise and alarm. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, quite honestly. And this was very strange, so uncharacteristic of Alfred (the only person Alfred was wary about was Russia, and even he wasn’t enough to make his eyes that wide in alarm).
“Nothing, nothing!” Loud laughter that sounded strained and wildly gesturing hands - something was definitely up with that middle name of his.
Canada shared a look with France, who also was now very curious, and both made a silent agreement.
“We were just talking about what the ‘F.’ in Alfred’s name stands for.” Matthew’s expression was pleasant and innocent, ignoring the mentioned nation’s anxious gestures. “Arthur named him, and so I was wondering what he would name him. Apparently, it’s embarrassing enough that Alfred doesn’t want to use it properly without being ashamed or humiliated.”
“H-hey! You’re making it sound like I’m the bad guy here -- !”
“Ah,” Francis took a seat beside Alfred - effectively trapping the nation inside their booth - and adopted a thoughtful look. “I believed I asked Arthur about it once, but he started stuttering and blushing and cursing. Then he asked me to get out. Now, as cute as he was at that time, I wonder why would that be?”
Their gazes were practically piercing him now, but Alfred would not give in. He was the United States of America, after all.
“Look.” He started firmly. “Arthur and I both agreed that it was better to keep it as an initial. It would have saved us a lot of embarrassment.”
“You both agreed…?” Matthew looked disbelieving.
“Okay, okay.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair, pouting just a little bit. “He sorta-kinda-actually threatened me to keep it a secret, or else he’ll go all British Empire on me. Or Pirate Captain Kirkland. Either one, or both. Whichever it was he promised, I’ll be damned. The World Wars would look like child’s play.”
There was a moment of silence between the three, then Francis chuckled.
“Now I actually want to know what it is.”
Matthew hummed in agreement.
“Aw, come on, guys! Can’t we just let it drop?”
There came a simultaneous response. “No.”
Alfred dropped his head on the table, and groaned.
Re: What's In a Name [1/?]
anonymous
June 1 2009, 16:28:51 UTC
“Ferdinand?”
“Ack, no.”
“Frank?”
“Nah.”
“Floyd?”
“Nope.”
“Freeman?”
“I wish.”
“Mon dieu… He didn’t.”
“What? It’s not Fuck, if that’s what you’re thinking…”
“It’s not Fairy, is it?”
“Oh, what the fuck, Francis! Dude. That’s… totally not cool!”
They lasted a second before Canada and France broke into laughter.
“Okay,” Alfred started. “So, since we’ve established that guessing doesn’t really count as me telling you, and that there are too many names to think of, how about I tell you this - it’s the name of a nation.”
“Well that narrows it down a bit.” Matthew started to count the names off the top of his head. “There’s Feliciano, Feliks - Spain’s middle name is Fernandez, so I guess that counts… And then there’s… Oh god.” He stared in apparent awe and shock at the prospect of Arthur naming America after someone the Brit supposedly hated…
“And then,” France continued. “There’s me. Francis.” He, too, looked a bit surprised at the thought, if his raised eyebrows and widened eyes were anything to go about.
Both looked at each other, then at Alfred. The said former British colony grinned sheepishly at the two, saying once, “Bingo.”
“Oh.” Matthew breathed.
“Yeah.” Alfred laughed weakly. “Oh.”
-
Like most secrets revealed in a middle of a party, it was out within the hour.
“Arthur’s gonna kill me.”
“Now, now, Alfred-san. It can’t be that bad…” Kiku modestly patted the blonde’s back in a semi-comforting gesture.
“…Well, yeah… I guess.”
“ALFRED!”
The said nation flinched. “It’s not that bad… It’s just much, much worse.”
From across of him, Ludwig raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’re overreact - “
“ALFRED, YOU BLOODY GIT. I’M GOING TO - “
“What - ?” Feliciano’s ears were promptly covered the moment Arthur started letting out his very colorful vocabulary. “Ludwig~ I can’t hear!”
“You don’t need to.”
“Matthew.” Canada looked up to meet America’s serious eyes. “My will is in the empty Rice Crispies cereal box over at the upper left kitchen cupboard.”
“Ah - “
Before Matthew can say a word, Alfred Francis Jones ran as if the very devil was chasing him.
(But considering who it was and what the situation is, he might as well be facing something scarier than Satan.)
-
Author!anon apologizes for the current lack of FrUK-ing at the moment, but I-I'm getting there, OP!anon!
Re: What's In a Name [1/?]
anonymous
June 1 2009, 17:04:37 UTC
Ohhhh god. This is perfect so far, writernon, I love the way you do your humor. This reader'll be over here with her F5 key sniggering into her drink, which she was luckily not drinking while reading.
Re: What's In a Name [3/?]
anonymous
June 2 2009, 02:06:48 UTC
When Arthur Named Alfred - A Flashback
“Hey, hey, Arthur~”
Arthur looked down at his young colony, who was currently beaming and bouncing up and down by his feet. “What is it, Alfred?”
The boy practically crawled into his lap at the first sign of Arthur’s attention. Looking at the blonde with bright, blue eyes, England sighed and set his book down. Something told me this will take a few moments.
“I met someone today, he said his name was Antonio Fernandez Carrie-something!”
Spain. Arthur flatly thought. America met Spain. Patiently, he gave Alfred a smile. “And?”
“And he has three names!” Alfred’s eyes were sparkling. That was not a good sign. “Can I have three names?”
“You already have three names. Your official name America, your human name is Alfred, then your surname is Jones. Also, it is more appropriate to use ‘may’ than ‘can.’”
“May I have four names then?” The boy was looking at him like a little puppy. “Please, Arthur~?”
England rolled his eyes, though he didn’t actually find it much trouble. “Fine. A middle name for you, then.”
“I want it to start with an F!” America cheered.
“Why?”
“Because it’s cool!”
Arthur blinked, and looked up to the heavens as if to pray for patience. He sighed before ruffling the younger nation’s hair. “Alright, then.”
“Oh! I also want to be named after something special, Arthur!” A bright, innocent grin was blinding him. “So I can be special to you, too!”
Oh god. Child philosophies.
“Something special, hm?” England’s mind was blank. Well, for the most part. There was a name that kept poking the back of his mind repeatedly, but god-forbid he used that name. Especially if that person can easily find out with one blab of Alfred’s mouth.
“Have you thought of something?”
“…Let me think on it for a little while, hm, Alfred?”
“Okay!”
He needed some tea. And maybe a shot or two of any alcoholic beverages, except for wine. Wine would just make him think of that person.
-
So maybe he drank a little too much than intended this time. Arthur was only half-sober when he stumbled back into the house, but he still made quite an entrance. Good thing that Alfred was still awake because -
Wait.
“A’fred?” He scowled at his own slur, but continued on talking anyways. “Wha’ you doin’ s’ill up?”
“I was waiting for you.” Alfred jumped off from the sofa and rushed to his side. “Have you thought of anything yet?” The smile was expecting and bright blue eyes were hopeful - England just couldn’t say no to them...
To hell with it. If it came back to bite him in the arse, he’ll just blame it on being drunk. “Francis. Alfred Francis Jones.”
The next morning, after a round or two of tea, he remembered.
“Oh god.” He stared at nothing in shock, the grip on his teacup slowly loosening. “Oh motherfucking holy Queen.”
Arthur jumped off his seat and started running across the room, calling out, “Alfred! Alfred, we need to talk!!”
-
“Why do I have to keep it as an initial again?”
There were no sweet words this time, Alfred knew. After all, the last time they had talked about this, he was barely tall enough to reach the kitchen sink. (England was very sensitive about the topic, really.) He was an able adult (teen) now.
“Because, I swear to the Queen that if you ever utter a word about your real middle name to anyone, I’ll make sure to kill you, bring you back to life, then kill you again for ‘sheer stupidity and deliberate disobedience of orders.’ That, and I’ll show you exactly why I was called the motherfucking British Empire and the fiercest captain of all the seven seas.”
“…Alright. Just checking.”
Honestly, when Alfred was asking to be named after something special, he didn’t mean someone who Arthur desperately wanted to fu - sleep with. Or utterly smitten with, despite Arthur being subtle about it.
Because quite honestly, naming your son-slash-brother after your ‘special’ someone is just kind of… weird.
Alfred hoped it was the teenage hormones making him think strange images like this.
(Or that he wasn’t named after France, because the guy’s perverseness may just be screwing up his brain.)
Re: What's In a Name [3/?]
anonymous
June 2 2009, 10:51:21 UTC
For some reason, I felt like singing Alfred's sentence "Hey, hey, Arthur~" in the tone of Marukaite Chikyuu. Did you perhaps had that in mind when you wrote this part? :D Otherwise, this is excellente and completely irrelevant, I have to eat dinner. Kthxbai.
What's In a Name [4a/?]
anonymous
June 2 2009, 17:38:26 UTC
Alfred was running spectacularly, Arthur had to admit. But he wasn’t fast enough to escape that easily him just yet. He may be a lot older than Alfred, but that didn’t mean was any slower. (Arthur was quite a runner, if he may say so himself. Years of football and various sports ensured that.)
Then America conveniently came crashing into France.
“Fuck!”
The two blondes were groaning on the floor when England finally caught up. Normally, he would’ve been looking at them smugly at the first sign of pain, but…
Green eyes stared at Francis, and Arthur’s lips formed a firm, thin line. His body was tense, fists alternately clenching and unclenching every few seconds. A heavy flush was visible on his cheeks.
“Fr-Francis.”
The said nation looked up from his position on the floor. Seeing a flustered England, a smirk carefully formed into his lips disguised as a pleasant smile. “Arthur.”
Alfred looked back and forth at the two. Slowly, he started to crawl away while Arthur was distracted. This, at least, would give him a head start. And if Francis manages to totally divert Arthur’s attention, then more power to France.
England was doing his best to look at anywhere else besides France. That made him happen to see America getting to dash for it.
“Alfred, where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” His voice was cold and stern, eyes piercing Alfred’s very soul (or something similar).
“Err…”
Without further ado, Alfred sprinted away from his former guardian.
“Alfred!” Arthur practically growled and was about to break into a run himself, with all intention to maim the other blonde as soon as he got his hands on him. However, he was halted by a hand firmly gripping his arm. “What - ? Francis, you wine-bastard, let me go!”
He really did not want to be alone with Francis right now. Really.
But the older nation kept his hold on Arthur’s bicep, a teasing smile on his face. “Are you sure, mon cher? I thought you like me.”
Later, Arthur will deny that he squeaked pathetically. “I-I, what?!” Despite being of equal height, England was definitely feeling small right now. And wanting to crawl up and die somewhere. The flush on his cheeks can probably put Romano’s tomatoes to shame, too.
Francis stepped forward, and Arthur reacted by stepping back. The French paused for a moment, then that lecherous grin of his went even wider.
“So, Arthur.” He said calmly, still not letting go of the Brit and still stepping forward, one foot at a time. “Alfred Francis Jones? Been naming colonies after me, Angleterre?”
What's In a Name [4b/?]
anonymous
June 2 2009, 17:44:31 UTC
“I was pissed!” Alright, so that was half a lie. Arthur still had some level of sober at that time - enough to know that this was bound to happen. (He had only hoped it was when he was dying or something, so the shame wouldn’t haunt him for the rest of his life.)
The Englishman tried to keep the distance between the two of them, stepping back every time Francis stepped forward. However, France must have known that he would do just that.
How else did Arthur suddenly find himself back to back with the wall, Francis just inches away from his entire body?
And, oh in the name of the Queen, what was Francis doing to his neck?!
“A-ah…” He placed his hands flat against France’s chest, with all intent to push the perverted bastard away. That was the original plan, until Francis decided to kiss him full on the lips.
Now his legs felt weaker than they ever had, his arms were clutching the fabric of Francis’ shirt instead of pushing away the wandering hands going across his body, and his body shivered as a tongue ran over the roof of his mouth.
Francis broke the kiss with a wet ‘pop,’ licking the saliva from his lips. He stared at Arthur - panting, flushing, and shivering Arthur - and couldn’t help but let his hand wander lower down the Englishman’s back. And slip into his pants, of course.
“Francis!” Arthur’s eyes were wide in surprise. The flush on his cheeks grew even darker when France did not show any intention of pulling his hand out anytime soon. “W-what the bloody hellll - “ A sharp gasp. “Oh god.”
The other hand was under the pants, and up front.
“I’m not exactly god.” Only Francis can manage to look like he wasn’t doing anything sexual at all, while actually is. He smiled pleasantly. “But I like to think I’m close.”
“You bastard - Ah!” Francis had given a short tug. “Fr-Francis…” A finger slipping in and trailing the cleft of England’s ass. “S-stop, right this… instant… Oh!”
France chuckled, his warm breath tickling the skin of Arthur’s neck. “Stop?” He whispered. “But you cannot deny you’re enjoying this, mon cher. After all, am I not the one you like? The one… you want?” The fist clutching his hair tightened, but not enough to hurt.
“Fuck…” Arthur groaned. “You - Stupid French lines… So lame!” Francis was pumping him slowly, tantalizing him. And the fingers behind him were just ghosting over his skin. “And we’re… in a public place right now, you idiot!” He let out another moan, despite his attempts on stifling them.
Francis, of course, ignored the last statement. Instead, he raised his face to meet England’s once again. “How about a French kiss, then?”
What happened next, Arthur would blame it on frustration later. He roughly pulled for their lips to meet more fiercely this time, teeth clashing and tongues wasting no time to wrestle. The kiss was definitely fiery, passionate, and -
“You’re better off not knowing.”
Matthew’s eyebrows rose in confusion and slight surprise. “Why not? I’m just curious.”
From beside him, Alfred shuffled in his seat. “It’s…” The blue eyed nation scratched the back of his head, a nervous-slash-embarrassed gesture, the Canadian noted. “A bit embarrassing, I admit. And Arthur named me, after all. He might’ve been drunk, too, at that time. Still, better left off as a secret.” Alfred gave his brother an apologetic grin, but Matthew did not diverge from the topic.
“Oh god,” Matthew blinked. “He… he didn’t.” He sounded genuinely scandalized, and had the right to be, really, considering his guess. Dropping his voice below a whisper, aware that there were various nations mingling about in the party - England included - he asked, “It’s…it’s not a swear word, is it?”
“What…? Wait, no!” The bespectacled nation laughed. “No, he did not call me Alfred Fuck Jones. Really, it’s much more complicated that that.”
“What’s more complicated?”
Matthew saw Alfred literally jump in surprise and alarm. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, quite honestly. And this was very strange, so uncharacteristic of Alfred (the only person Alfred was wary about was Russia, and even he wasn’t enough to make his eyes that wide in alarm).
“Nothing, nothing!” Loud laughter that sounded strained and wildly gesturing hands - something was definitely up with that middle name of his.
Canada shared a look with France, who also was now very curious, and both made a silent agreement.
“We were just talking about what the ‘F.’ in Alfred’s name stands for.” Matthew’s expression was pleasant and innocent, ignoring the mentioned nation’s anxious gestures. “Arthur named him, and so I was wondering what he would name him. Apparently, it’s embarrassing enough that Alfred doesn’t want to use it properly without being ashamed or humiliated.”
“H-hey! You’re making it sound like I’m the bad guy here -- !”
“Ah,” Francis took a seat beside Alfred - effectively trapping the nation inside their booth - and adopted a thoughtful look. “I believed I asked Arthur about it once, but he started stuttering and blushing and cursing. Then he asked me to get out. Now, as cute as he was at that time, I wonder why would that be?”
Their gazes were practically piercing him now, but Alfred would not give in. He was the United States of America, after all.
“Look.” He started firmly. “Arthur and I both agreed that it was better to keep it as an initial. It would have saved us a lot of embarrassment.”
“You both agreed…?” Matthew looked disbelieving.
“Okay, okay.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair, pouting just a little bit. “He sorta-kinda-actually threatened me to keep it a secret, or else he’ll go all British Empire on me. Or Pirate Captain Kirkland. Either one, or both. Whichever it was he promised, I’ll be damned. The World Wars would look like child’s play.”
There was a moment of silence between the three, then Francis chuckled.
“Now I actually want to know what it is.”
Matthew hummed in agreement.
“Aw, come on, guys! Can’t we just let it drop?”
There came a simultaneous response. “No.”
Alfred dropped his head on the table, and groaned.
Reply
“Ack, no.”
“Frank?”
“Nah.”
“Floyd?”
“Nope.”
“Freeman?”
“I wish.”
“Mon dieu… He didn’t.”
“What? It’s not Fuck, if that’s what you’re thinking…”
“It’s not Fairy, is it?”
“Oh, what the fuck, Francis! Dude. That’s… totally not cool!”
They lasted a second before Canada and France broke into laughter.
“Okay,” Alfred started. “So, since we’ve established that guessing doesn’t really count as me telling you, and that there are too many names to think of, how about I tell you this - it’s the name of a nation.”
“Well that narrows it down a bit.” Matthew started to count the names off the top of his head. “There’s Feliciano, Feliks - Spain’s middle name is Fernandez, so I guess that counts… And then there’s… Oh god.” He stared in apparent awe and shock at the prospect of Arthur naming America after someone the Brit supposedly hated…
“And then,” France continued. “There’s me. Francis.” He, too, looked a bit surprised at the thought, if his raised eyebrows and widened eyes were anything to go about.
Both looked at each other, then at Alfred. The said former British colony grinned sheepishly at the two, saying once, “Bingo.”
“Oh.” Matthew breathed.
“Yeah.” Alfred laughed weakly. “Oh.”
-
Like most secrets revealed in a middle of a party, it was out within the hour.
“Arthur’s gonna kill me.”
“Now, now, Alfred-san. It can’t be that bad…” Kiku modestly patted the blonde’s back in a semi-comforting gesture.
“…Well, yeah… I guess.”
“ALFRED!”
The said nation flinched. “It’s not that bad… It’s just much, much worse.”
From across of him, Ludwig raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’re overreact - “
“ALFRED, YOU BLOODY GIT. I’M GOING TO - “
“What - ?” Feliciano’s ears were promptly covered the moment Arthur started letting out his very colorful vocabulary. “Ludwig~ I can’t hear!”
“You don’t need to.”
“Matthew.” Canada looked up to meet America’s serious eyes. “My will is in the empty Rice Crispies cereal box over at the upper left kitchen cupboard.”
“Ah - “
Before Matthew can say a word, Alfred Francis Jones ran as if the very devil was chasing him.
(But considering who it was and what the situation is, he might as well be facing something scarier than Satan.)
-
Author!anon apologizes for the current lack of FrUK-ing at the moment, but I-I'm getting there, OP!anon!
Reply
OTL
Reply
Carry on! ♥
Reply
OMG! SWEET CANADIAN SYRUP, YOU ROCK! You've made my day! I loved the buildup and how you had them figure it out. And the lines are claaaassic.
“My will is in the empty Rice Crispies cereal box over at the upper left kitchen cupboard.”
Mucho excited to read more!
Reply
S-so thank you! I'll do my best to continue!
Reply
“Hey, hey, Arthur~”
Arthur looked down at his young colony, who was currently beaming and bouncing up and down by his feet. “What is it, Alfred?”
The boy practically crawled into his lap at the first sign of Arthur’s attention. Looking at the blonde with bright, blue eyes, England sighed and set his book down. Something told me this will take a few moments.
“I met someone today, he said his name was Antonio Fernandez Carrie-something!”
Spain. Arthur flatly thought. America met Spain. Patiently, he gave Alfred a smile. “And?”
“And he has three names!” Alfred’s eyes were sparkling. That was not a good sign. “Can I have three names?”
“You already have three names. Your official name America, your human name is Alfred, then your surname is Jones. Also, it is more appropriate to use ‘may’ than ‘can.’”
“May I have four names then?” The boy was looking at him like a little puppy. “Please, Arthur~?”
England rolled his eyes, though he didn’t actually find it much trouble. “Fine. A middle name for you, then.”
“I want it to start with an F!” America cheered.
“Why?”
“Because it’s cool!”
Arthur blinked, and looked up to the heavens as if to pray for patience. He sighed before ruffling the younger nation’s hair. “Alright, then.”
“Oh! I also want to be named after something special, Arthur!” A bright, innocent grin was blinding him. “So I can be special to you, too!”
Oh god. Child philosophies.
“Something special, hm?” England’s mind was blank. Well, for the most part. There was a name that kept poking the back of his mind repeatedly, but god-forbid he used that name. Especially if that person can easily find out with one blab of Alfred’s mouth.
“Have you thought of something?”
“…Let me think on it for a little while, hm, Alfred?”
“Okay!”
He needed some tea. And maybe a shot or two of any alcoholic beverages, except for wine. Wine would just make him think of that person.
-
So maybe he drank a little too much than intended this time. Arthur was only half-sober when he stumbled back into the house, but he still made quite an entrance. Good thing that Alfred was still awake because -
Wait.
“A’fred?” He scowled at his own slur, but continued on talking anyways. “Wha’ you doin’ s’ill up?”
“I was waiting for you.” Alfred jumped off from the sofa and rushed to his side. “Have you thought of anything yet?” The smile was expecting and bright blue eyes were hopeful - England just couldn’t say no to them...
To hell with it. If it came back to bite him in the arse, he’ll just blame it on being drunk. “Francis. Alfred Francis Jones.”
The next morning, after a round or two of tea, he remembered.
“Oh god.” He stared at nothing in shock, the grip on his teacup slowly loosening. “Oh motherfucking holy Queen.”
Arthur jumped off his seat and started running across the room, calling out, “Alfred! Alfred, we need to talk!!”
-
“Why do I have to keep it as an initial again?”
There were no sweet words this time, Alfred knew. After all, the last time they had talked about this, he was barely tall enough to reach the kitchen sink. (England was very sensitive about the topic, really.) He was an able adult (teen) now.
“Because, I swear to the Queen that if you ever utter a word about your real middle name to anyone, I’ll make sure to kill you, bring you back to life, then kill you again for ‘sheer stupidity and deliberate disobedience of orders.’ That, and I’ll show you exactly why I was called the motherfucking British Empire and the fiercest captain of all the seven seas.”
“…Alright. Just checking.”
Honestly, when Alfred was asking to be named after something special, he didn’t mean someone who Arthur desperately wanted to fu - sleep with. Or utterly smitten with, despite Arthur being subtle about it.
Because quite honestly, naming your son-slash-brother after your ‘special’ someone is just kind of… weird.
Alfred hoped it was the teenage hormones making him think strange images like this.
(Or that he wasn’t named after France, because the guy’s perverseness may just be screwing up his brain.)
Reply
Reply
... Am I spotting a possible threesome here? 8D OHOHO. This continues to be damn awesome. *STALKS*
Reply
Chibi!Alfred: Iggy's blacked out at the moment. Can I take a message.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Then America conveniently came crashing into France.
“Fuck!”
The two blondes were groaning on the floor when England finally caught up. Normally, he would’ve been looking at them smugly at the first sign of pain, but…
Green eyes stared at Francis, and Arthur’s lips formed a firm, thin line. His body was tense, fists alternately clenching and unclenching every few seconds. A heavy flush was visible on his cheeks.
“Fr-Francis.”
The said nation looked up from his position on the floor. Seeing a flustered England, a smirk carefully formed into his lips disguised as a pleasant smile. “Arthur.”
Alfred looked back and forth at the two. Slowly, he started to crawl away while Arthur was distracted. This, at least, would give him a head start. And if Francis manages to totally divert Arthur’s attention, then more power to France.
England was doing his best to look at anywhere else besides France. That made him happen to see America getting to dash for it.
“Alfred, where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” His voice was cold and stern, eyes piercing Alfred’s very soul (or something similar).
“Err…”
Without further ado, Alfred sprinted away from his former guardian.
“Alfred!” Arthur practically growled and was about to break into a run himself, with all intention to maim the other blonde as soon as he got his hands on him. However, he was halted by a hand firmly gripping his arm. “What - ? Francis, you wine-bastard, let me go!”
He really did not want to be alone with Francis right now. Really.
But the older nation kept his hold on Arthur’s bicep, a teasing smile on his face. “Are you sure, mon cher? I thought you like me.”
Later, Arthur will deny that he squeaked pathetically. “I-I, what?!” Despite being of equal height, England was definitely feeling small right now. And wanting to crawl up and die somewhere. The flush on his cheeks can probably put Romano’s tomatoes to shame, too.
Francis stepped forward, and Arthur reacted by stepping back. The French paused for a moment, then that lecherous grin of his went even wider.
“So, Arthur.” He said calmly, still not letting go of the Brit and still stepping forward, one foot at a time. “Alfred Francis Jones? Been naming colonies after me, Angleterre?”
Reply
The Englishman tried to keep the distance between the two of them, stepping back every time Francis stepped forward. However, France must have known that he would do just that.
How else did Arthur suddenly find himself back to back with the wall, Francis just inches away from his entire body?
And, oh in the name of the Queen, what was Francis doing to his neck?!
“A-ah…” He placed his hands flat against France’s chest, with all intent to push the perverted bastard away. That was the original plan, until Francis decided to kiss him full on the lips.
Now his legs felt weaker than they ever had, his arms were clutching the fabric of Francis’ shirt instead of pushing away the wandering hands going across his body, and his body shivered as a tongue ran over the roof of his mouth.
Francis broke the kiss with a wet ‘pop,’ licking the saliva from his lips. He stared at Arthur - panting, flushing, and shivering Arthur - and couldn’t help but let his hand wander lower down the Englishman’s back. And slip into his pants, of course.
“Francis!” Arthur’s eyes were wide in surprise. The flush on his cheeks grew even darker when France did not show any intention of pulling his hand out anytime soon. “W-what the bloody hellll - “ A sharp gasp. “Oh god.”
The other hand was under the pants, and up front.
“I’m not exactly god.” Only Francis can manage to look like he wasn’t doing anything sexual at all, while actually is. He smiled pleasantly. “But I like to think I’m close.”
“You bastard - Ah!” Francis had given a short tug. “Fr-Francis…” A finger slipping in and trailing the cleft of England’s ass. “S-stop, right this… instant… Oh!”
France chuckled, his warm breath tickling the skin of Arthur’s neck. “Stop?” He whispered. “But you cannot deny you’re enjoying this, mon cher. After all, am I not the one you like? The one… you want?” The fist clutching his hair tightened, but not enough to hurt.
“Fuck…” Arthur groaned. “You - Stupid French lines… So lame!” Francis was pumping him slowly, tantalizing him. And the fingers behind him were just ghosting over his skin. “And we’re… in a public place right now, you idiot!” He let out another moan, despite his attempts on stifling them.
Francis, of course, ignored the last statement. Instead, he raised his face to meet England’s once again. “How about a French kiss, then?”
What happened next, Arthur would blame it on frustration later. He roughly pulled for their lips to meet more fiercely this time, teeth clashing and tongues wasting no time to wrestle. The kiss was definitely fiery, passionate, and -
“Alfred, what are you crouching over there for?”
“Matt! Hush!”
-
This Author!anon fails at sexy scenes. OTL
Reply
This is absolutely fabulous! I love your writing and the characterizations and everything in this fic, and really can't wait for more.♥
Reply
(...will there be more???)
Reply
Leave a comment