[APH Fic] Hanky-Panky [US/UK]
Title: Hanky-Panky
Characters: USxUK, with appearances by France, Hungary, Spain, North Italy and Germany
Rating: PG-13 for some language and implied sex.
Warnings: Gakuen AU. Human names. Stupidity. France being a creeper. Un-beta'd.
Summary: It's notorious that the student council president uses the nice expensive conference rooms for sex during the school day, since he's the only one with a key. Arthur denies such actions, but Francis knows better. And then sees it.
Notes: Based on a fanart I found on a random Photobucket album by Maeda on pixiv yo (thanks to bold_anon for the link!). My imagination got the better of me. Random and cracky. Enjoy the craziness.
Original post
The problem with Hetalia Academy’s conference rooms was the fact that they were always locked when you needed them. Whether it was for a group project, a meeting, or even a quiet place just to study - they were nearly impossible to get access to. You had to fill out a request form to even consider using one of them. They were top-of-the-line, with WiFi, outlets, a series of long white tables with attached, rotating leather chairs, interactive whiteboards... they were gorgeous rooms. Of course, Hetalia Academy is a gorgeous school, so naturally it would house such beautiful rooms.
And there was only one student with a key. The student council president.
Arthur Kirkland.
It was a well-known fact that the student council had their monthly general meetings in these rooms, and many students went to these meetings just to see these grandiose rooms in action. Arthur would strut up, an uncharacteristic grin on his face, and unlock the dead bolted door, leading the chattering group inside to discuss what may as well have been international politics. Sometimes students would only spend that one hour in that room during their entire duration at the academy - unless they had to go on probation of some kind.
It was another well-known fact that, traditionally, the student council president not only used these rooms at his leisure, but he also used them for on-campus, school-hour interactions of the sexual nature.
Francis Bonnefoy teased Arthur about this relentlessly, as the student council secretary. Arthur always frowned and shot the question down.
“Unlike past presidents, I actually take this job seriously,” he said, folding his papers into his backpack during their lunch hour one day. Francis leaned on his elbows, smirking at Arthur.
“Oh come on, it’s practically a tradition,” he pressured. “There’s no way you can’t. You’re student council president. Any girl - or guy, for that matter - would love to have a tumble with you in one of those rooms.” Arthur glared at his secretary.
“You are so full of it,” he said, but Francis noticed the reddening of his cheeks. “Besides, wouldn’t you notice me disappear for something like that? We’re in nearly identical classes together.” Francis thought about it, and was about to retort, but Arthur was already leaving with two minutes until the afternoon bell. Francis shrugged.
“What a stick in the mud,” Francis muttered. “He never has any fun.” Just as he said that, another blonde came and sat down at the table - the sports liaison for the student council, one Alfred Jones. He dumped his bag on the table and shrugged his uniform jacket back on.
“Well hello,” Francis said coolly. “And what do I owe this pleasure?” Alfred grinned at him.
“I saw you giving ol’ eyebrows a hard time from over there so I wanted to join in the fun,” he said, dumping a notebook into his bag. “But he vanished before I could. So I thought I’d come and say hi.” Francis raised his eyebrows at Alfred’s huge smile. What a strange character that Alfred was, always grinning, his hair a mess and his eyes wide behind his glasses.
Francis sat in silence for a few more moments before the bell rang, and Alfred grabbed his bag and ran off.
“Gotta get to study! See you at the e-board meeting!” Alfred cried as he took off. Francis shook his head.
“I don’t understand anyone at this school.”
--
Francis found himself wandering into the half-closet that served as the student council office at the end of the day, searching for one of his books. The room was mostly empty, with Arthur holed up in the back, his feet on his desk, reading something. Antonio Hernandez Carriedo, the member-at-large, was sitting at the treasurer desk, using a book as a pillow. Francis nudged him as he walked by to his own desk.
“Antonio, wake up you fool,” he said. Antonio responded with a wave and turned over to his other side. Francis scoffed and sat down at his desk. He glanced at Arthur, who seemed to be very deep into his reading. He squinted at the younger student, trying to see past his stern face and his perpetual frown. Somewhere in there must be a cheerful person, Francis surmised. He has friends, even if they are few and far between.
It was then that Francis noticed Arthur absently smoothing down his hair. Arthur’s appearance was never incredibly dashing, but he was at least respectable most of the time. He normally came to school with combed hair, a pressed shirt, and even trouser socks. Like a professional adult. Francis leaned on one hand and took a mental note that he saw skin poking out from underneath Arthur’s left pant-leg - he wasn’t wearing a sock. And why was his hair more mussed than before? Or had he not noticed it’s messiness until now?
And his shirt. It was wrinkled. Or maybe that was creasing from sitting throughout the day? Francis glanced at his own shirt and noticed similar wrinkles around the pant line. He frowned and looked up again.
Arthur didn’t notice at all that Francis had even come in the room, let alone that he was staring at him. He was reading intently into a dark covered book (“Gastronomy or Geology? The Role of Nationalism in the Reconstruction of Nations”, how droll) and absently tugging at his hair. Francis noted that there was a dark object hanging from around his neck - was that his tie? Was Arthur Kirkland actually sitting in school with an untied tie?
Okay, there was something going on.
“Hey Arthur,” Francis called, and Arthur jolted, surprised to see the other student. “I see you’ve undone your tie.” Arthur stared at him, then looked down at his shirt and noticed his tie hanging limply around his neck. Arthur cursed softly and tied it swiftly and expertly, patting it down over his shirt while simultaneously trying to sift out the wrinkles in his white poplin shirt. Francis smirked. He stood, stretched his arms, and stalked over to the desk across from him, slamming his hands down onto the desk. Arthur jumped and reeled back in his chair, nearly falling over.
“Francis, what the fuck is your problem?!” Arthur cried, his eyes shining with fury. Francis just leaned forward on his elbows.
“So, who is it?” he purred, and Arthur stared at him.
“Who’s what?”
“The person you’ve been tumbling with,” Francis replied. Arthur’s face turned a dark shade of crimson and he frowned at Francis.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You think I can’t tell?” Francis said, laughing heartily. “Please, Arthur, I can tell when someone had to get dressed in a hurry. You’re tie is undone, your shirt is wrinkled, your hair is all messy -“ he reached out and mussed Arthur’s hair for him, with Arthur swatting at his hand -“and for God sakes, you’re missing a sock.” Arthur looked down at his feet and then scowled back up at Francis.
“How I look by the end of the day is none of your concern,” Arthur murmured, pulling his uniform jacket on. The end of the day bell was about to ring. “By the way, the e-board meeting was moved to Friday.” Francis frowned at the abrupt change of subject, but it was something he needed to know. “We’re gonna have an e-board meeting a couple hours before the general meeting in conference room A114. Don’t be late.” And with that, the suspicious Arthur Kirkland left the office, slamming the door behind him. Antonio stirred, blinking at Francis.
“Wha’ jus’ happened?” he said sleepily. Francis rolled his eyes and left the room as well.
--
Friday rolled around without complaint. Arthur scowled at Francis all day Thursday, and then Friday came. Francis’s last period class was never held on Friday, so he normally took this opportunity to leave early, but there was not only an e-board meeting today but a general meeting that evening, so he couldn’t leave yet. He wandered into the office, expecting to see Arthur - but then he didn’t. Arthur’s bag was there, lying on his desk, with a trail of papers leading from it, but there was no Arthur. Francis frowned at the empty desk.
“Where is that bastard,” he muttered, grabbing his laptop from his desk so he could take minutes at the meeting. He figured he could just play on his computer until the bell rang and the e-board meeting resumed. The only other person in the room was Elizabeta Héderváry, the treasurer, going through a folder of receipts.
“Hey Elizabeta, is Arthur here yet?” Francis asked. She shrugged.
“He came running in before when I was doing the numbers, and then he ran out again - didn’t even say hi,” she said, not looking up. “He just said he’d be back before the meeting started.”
“Did he say anything about the meeting itself?” Francis asked. He was curious as to why it had been moved. Elizabeta shrugged again.
“I don’t know - gah, now I lost count.” She sighed in frustration and dropped the folder onto her desk. “What room are we in?”
“A114,” Francis regurgitated the information from two days prior. “I’m gonna go there now and hang out in front of it. The WiFi goes out into the hall sometimes.”
“Antonio is probably wandering the halls over there,” Elizabeta offered. “I’ll be there when I’m done divvying up these damn receipts. Oh, and can you text Ludwig and Feliciano? I didn’t know where the meeting had moved to and then my phone died.” Francis rolled his eyes and stalked the halls, heading down onto the lower levels where the beautiful conference rooms were. As he rounded the corner to the A110 rooms, he saw Antonio, sitting across the hall from their room, staring straight ahead. Francis lifted an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth to speak, but Antonio put a finger to his lips and pointed at the door. Francis stood next to where Antonio was sitting and stared at the door himself, trying to figure out if there was something wrong with it.
“What is it?” he whispered to Antonio.
“Someone is in there,” Antonio whispered back, his thick accent making him near impossible to understand.
“How do you know?” Francis asked. These rooms were heavily soundproofed, and he couldn’t hear anything. He pointed to the doorknob. Normally every door had a little green light under it, but this one was red.
“Says it’s occupied,” he said simply. Francis blinked and stared straight ahead, baffled.
Who could be in there?
“I also think the door may be unlocked,” Antonio said. “But I didn’t want to open it alone.”
“Why?”
“So I wouldn’t get into trouble.” Francis stared at Antonio in disbelief.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re going in,” Francis said, and he grabbed Antonio’s arm, shoving his laptop under his other arm, and he grabbed the doorknob, sliding the door open with a bang.
What greeted them was the last sight either of them expected.
Arthur was standing near the table, one arm in his uniform coat, the other hanging out, his shirt undone and his tie lying on the nearby table. He was frozen, staring at his two council members like a deer caught in headlights. But that wasn’t even the biggest thing.
The biggest thing was the blonde standing right behind him, buckling his belt as he turned around cheerily, his shirt unbuttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his shoulders.
“Well hello boys,” Alfred said, although his cheeks were as red as can be. He grabbed his jacket from the table and threw it around his shoulders. He then noticed he was missing his shoes. “Oy, where are those - there they are.” He slid his feet into them, zipped his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets. He grinned at the two in the doorway. “What’s up?”
Spain shrugged as if he had walked into a totally normal situation. Francis, on the other hand, was just staring at Arthur, who was staring back, slowly pulling his jacket on.
“So, maybe we should find another room then?” Antonio offered, completely oblivious to the extremely awkward and tense situation around him. Francis nodded.
“Yeah, I agree with him.”
“Yeah... go to room A116, it has all the software we need,” Arthur said slowly, his eyes never trailing from Francis’s gaze. “Al, you know where the key is-“
“On it,” Alfred said, holding the key up. He beckoned to Antonio. “Shall we?” and the two left the room chatting.
“I wonder if I should call Ludwig,” Antonio wondered as they went down the hall and the other two waited until they heard the click of the door until they said anything.
“I knew it!” Francis cried, pointing an accusing finger at Arthur. “I knew you were doing something! You see, I told you. So, did you lie to me the other day, Arthur?” Francis asked, placing his laptop on the desk beside him, hands on his hips. Arthur buttoned his shirt all the way up, his face blazing.
“I never said anything the other day,” Arthur said. “I simply said that I’m a better president than in the past, and that we have all our classes together.”
“Except study,” Francis noted. “Which on Fridays, is this period for you.” Arthur grabbed his tie from the table before him. “So, tell me, Kirkland, just how long has this been going on?” Arthur tied his tie as quickly as he had the other day and didn’t say a word to Francis. He went to the doorway, flicking the light off as he went.
“Do you remember last summer, when you wondered if Al, now that he was all bulked up for the football team, would be one of the best lays of the school?” Francis stared at him, the question taking him aback. He had asked that, drunkenly, at two a.m., in a field behind his house to a group of other European guys, while they were drunkenly surmising things about the other countries.
Arthur smiled wickedly.
“Holy shit, he is so good,” Arthur said, giving him a wink and waving playfully. Francis stood there, dumbfounded, until he regained his senses, snatched his laptop and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Arthur Kirkland you get your scrawny ass back here immediately!” he cried, cutting off Ludwig, Feliciano and Elizabeta, who were coming for the meeting. “You better tell me everything, you hear me? You limey bastard, get back here!” and Francis ran into the other meeting room. He poked his head back out and motioned to his dumbfounded council members.
“Meeting’s been moved in here,” he said, and his golden head fled back inside the room. The other three blinked.
“Why do I get the feeling we just missed something really interesting?” Ludwig asked after a moment. Elizabeta shrugged.
“We have a couple hours before the general meeting, whatever it is, we can squeeze it out of them,” she offered, and the last three walked into what promised to be the most awkward e-board meeting any of them had ever experienced.
--
Notes: The book that Arthur is reading is the article I was supposed to be reading when I was writing this. It's about what defines a "nation", whether it be culture, people,. ethnic groups, whathaveyou. It's actually really interesting, it's just loooooooooong... anyway. Life of a history major.
I hope you enjoy the zaniness!
Characters: USxUK, with appearances by France, Hungary, Spain, North Italy and Germany
Rating: PG-13 for some language and implied sex.
Warnings: Gakuen AU. Human names. Stupidity. France being a creeper. Un-beta'd.
Summary: It's notorious that the student council president uses the nice expensive conference rooms for sex during the school day, since he's the only one with a key. Arthur denies such actions, but Francis knows better. And then sees it.
Notes: Based on a fanart I found on a random Photobucket album by Maeda on pixiv yo (thanks to bold_anon for the link!). My imagination got the better of me. Random and cracky. Enjoy the craziness.
Original post
The problem with Hetalia Academy’s conference rooms was the fact that they were always locked when you needed them. Whether it was for a group project, a meeting, or even a quiet place just to study - they were nearly impossible to get access to. You had to fill out a request form to even consider using one of them. They were top-of-the-line, with WiFi, outlets, a series of long white tables with attached, rotating leather chairs, interactive whiteboards... they were gorgeous rooms. Of course, Hetalia Academy is a gorgeous school, so naturally it would house such beautiful rooms.
And there was only one student with a key. The student council president.
Arthur Kirkland.
It was a well-known fact that the student council had their monthly general meetings in these rooms, and many students went to these meetings just to see these grandiose rooms in action. Arthur would strut up, an uncharacteristic grin on his face, and unlock the dead bolted door, leading the chattering group inside to discuss what may as well have been international politics. Sometimes students would only spend that one hour in that room during their entire duration at the academy - unless they had to go on probation of some kind.
It was another well-known fact that, traditionally, the student council president not only used these rooms at his leisure, but he also used them for on-campus, school-hour interactions of the sexual nature.
Francis Bonnefoy teased Arthur about this relentlessly, as the student council secretary. Arthur always frowned and shot the question down.
“Unlike past presidents, I actually take this job seriously,” he said, folding his papers into his backpack during their lunch hour one day. Francis leaned on his elbows, smirking at Arthur.
“Oh come on, it’s practically a tradition,” he pressured. “There’s no way you can’t. You’re student council president. Any girl - or guy, for that matter - would love to have a tumble with you in one of those rooms.” Arthur glared at his secretary.
“You are so full of it,” he said, but Francis noticed the reddening of his cheeks. “Besides, wouldn’t you notice me disappear for something like that? We’re in nearly identical classes together.” Francis thought about it, and was about to retort, but Arthur was already leaving with two minutes until the afternoon bell. Francis shrugged.
“What a stick in the mud,” Francis muttered. “He never has any fun.” Just as he said that, another blonde came and sat down at the table - the sports liaison for the student council, one Alfred Jones. He dumped his bag on the table and shrugged his uniform jacket back on.
“Well hello,” Francis said coolly. “And what do I owe this pleasure?” Alfred grinned at him.
“I saw you giving ol’ eyebrows a hard time from over there so I wanted to join in the fun,” he said, dumping a notebook into his bag. “But he vanished before I could. So I thought I’d come and say hi.” Francis raised his eyebrows at Alfred’s huge smile. What a strange character that Alfred was, always grinning, his hair a mess and his eyes wide behind his glasses.
Francis sat in silence for a few more moments before the bell rang, and Alfred grabbed his bag and ran off.
“Gotta get to study! See you at the e-board meeting!” Alfred cried as he took off. Francis shook his head.
“I don’t understand anyone at this school.”
--
Francis found himself wandering into the half-closet that served as the student council office at the end of the day, searching for one of his books. The room was mostly empty, with Arthur holed up in the back, his feet on his desk, reading something. Antonio Hernandez Carriedo, the member-at-large, was sitting at the treasurer desk, using a book as a pillow. Francis nudged him as he walked by to his own desk.
“Antonio, wake up you fool,” he said. Antonio responded with a wave and turned over to his other side. Francis scoffed and sat down at his desk. He glanced at Arthur, who seemed to be very deep into his reading. He squinted at the younger student, trying to see past his stern face and his perpetual frown. Somewhere in there must be a cheerful person, Francis surmised. He has friends, even if they are few and far between.
It was then that Francis noticed Arthur absently smoothing down his hair. Arthur’s appearance was never incredibly dashing, but he was at least respectable most of the time. He normally came to school with combed hair, a pressed shirt, and even trouser socks. Like a professional adult. Francis leaned on one hand and took a mental note that he saw skin poking out from underneath Arthur’s left pant-leg - he wasn’t wearing a sock. And why was his hair more mussed than before? Or had he not noticed it’s messiness until now?
And his shirt. It was wrinkled. Or maybe that was creasing from sitting throughout the day? Francis glanced at his own shirt and noticed similar wrinkles around the pant line. He frowned and looked up again.
Arthur didn’t notice at all that Francis had even come in the room, let alone that he was staring at him. He was reading intently into a dark covered book (“Gastronomy or Geology? The Role of Nationalism in the Reconstruction of Nations”, how droll) and absently tugging at his hair. Francis noted that there was a dark object hanging from around his neck - was that his tie? Was Arthur Kirkland actually sitting in school with an untied tie?
Okay, there was something going on.
“Hey Arthur,” Francis called, and Arthur jolted, surprised to see the other student. “I see you’ve undone your tie.” Arthur stared at him, then looked down at his shirt and noticed his tie hanging limply around his neck. Arthur cursed softly and tied it swiftly and expertly, patting it down over his shirt while simultaneously trying to sift out the wrinkles in his white poplin shirt. Francis smirked. He stood, stretched his arms, and stalked over to the desk across from him, slamming his hands down onto the desk. Arthur jumped and reeled back in his chair, nearly falling over.
“Francis, what the fuck is your problem?!” Arthur cried, his eyes shining with fury. Francis just leaned forward on his elbows.
“So, who is it?” he purred, and Arthur stared at him.
“Who’s what?”
“The person you’ve been tumbling with,” Francis replied. Arthur’s face turned a dark shade of crimson and he frowned at Francis.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You think I can’t tell?” Francis said, laughing heartily. “Please, Arthur, I can tell when someone had to get dressed in a hurry. You’re tie is undone, your shirt is wrinkled, your hair is all messy -“ he reached out and mussed Arthur’s hair for him, with Arthur swatting at his hand -“and for God sakes, you’re missing a sock.” Arthur looked down at his feet and then scowled back up at Francis.
“How I look by the end of the day is none of your concern,” Arthur murmured, pulling his uniform jacket on. The end of the day bell was about to ring. “By the way, the e-board meeting was moved to Friday.” Francis frowned at the abrupt change of subject, but it was something he needed to know. “We’re gonna have an e-board meeting a couple hours before the general meeting in conference room A114. Don’t be late.” And with that, the suspicious Arthur Kirkland left the office, slamming the door behind him. Antonio stirred, blinking at Francis.
“Wha’ jus’ happened?” he said sleepily. Francis rolled his eyes and left the room as well.
--
Friday rolled around without complaint. Arthur scowled at Francis all day Thursday, and then Friday came. Francis’s last period class was never held on Friday, so he normally took this opportunity to leave early, but there was not only an e-board meeting today but a general meeting that evening, so he couldn’t leave yet. He wandered into the office, expecting to see Arthur - but then he didn’t. Arthur’s bag was there, lying on his desk, with a trail of papers leading from it, but there was no Arthur. Francis frowned at the empty desk.
“Where is that bastard,” he muttered, grabbing his laptop from his desk so he could take minutes at the meeting. He figured he could just play on his computer until the bell rang and the e-board meeting resumed. The only other person in the room was Elizabeta Héderváry, the treasurer, going through a folder of receipts.
“Hey Elizabeta, is Arthur here yet?” Francis asked. She shrugged.
“He came running in before when I was doing the numbers, and then he ran out again - didn’t even say hi,” she said, not looking up. “He just said he’d be back before the meeting started.”
“Did he say anything about the meeting itself?” Francis asked. He was curious as to why it had been moved. Elizabeta shrugged again.
“I don’t know - gah, now I lost count.” She sighed in frustration and dropped the folder onto her desk. “What room are we in?”
“A114,” Francis regurgitated the information from two days prior. “I’m gonna go there now and hang out in front of it. The WiFi goes out into the hall sometimes.”
“Antonio is probably wandering the halls over there,” Elizabeta offered. “I’ll be there when I’m done divvying up these damn receipts. Oh, and can you text Ludwig and Feliciano? I didn’t know where the meeting had moved to and then my phone died.” Francis rolled his eyes and stalked the halls, heading down onto the lower levels where the beautiful conference rooms were. As he rounded the corner to the A110 rooms, he saw Antonio, sitting across the hall from their room, staring straight ahead. Francis lifted an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth to speak, but Antonio put a finger to his lips and pointed at the door. Francis stood next to where Antonio was sitting and stared at the door himself, trying to figure out if there was something wrong with it.
“What is it?” he whispered to Antonio.
“Someone is in there,” Antonio whispered back, his thick accent making him near impossible to understand.
“How do you know?” Francis asked. These rooms were heavily soundproofed, and he couldn’t hear anything. He pointed to the doorknob. Normally every door had a little green light under it, but this one was red.
“Says it’s occupied,” he said simply. Francis blinked and stared straight ahead, baffled.
Who could be in there?
“I also think the door may be unlocked,” Antonio said. “But I didn’t want to open it alone.”
“Why?”
“So I wouldn’t get into trouble.” Francis stared at Antonio in disbelief.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re going in,” Francis said, and he grabbed Antonio’s arm, shoving his laptop under his other arm, and he grabbed the doorknob, sliding the door open with a bang.
What greeted them was the last sight either of them expected.
Arthur was standing near the table, one arm in his uniform coat, the other hanging out, his shirt undone and his tie lying on the nearby table. He was frozen, staring at his two council members like a deer caught in headlights. But that wasn’t even the biggest thing.
The biggest thing was the blonde standing right behind him, buckling his belt as he turned around cheerily, his shirt unbuttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his shoulders.
“Well hello boys,” Alfred said, although his cheeks were as red as can be. He grabbed his jacket from the table and threw it around his shoulders. He then noticed he was missing his shoes. “Oy, where are those - there they are.” He slid his feet into them, zipped his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets. He grinned at the two in the doorway. “What’s up?”
Spain shrugged as if he had walked into a totally normal situation. Francis, on the other hand, was just staring at Arthur, who was staring back, slowly pulling his jacket on.
“So, maybe we should find another room then?” Antonio offered, completely oblivious to the extremely awkward and tense situation around him. Francis nodded.
“Yeah, I agree with him.”
“Yeah... go to room A116, it has all the software we need,” Arthur said slowly, his eyes never trailing from Francis’s gaze. “Al, you know where the key is-“
“On it,” Alfred said, holding the key up. He beckoned to Antonio. “Shall we?” and the two left the room chatting.
“I wonder if I should call Ludwig,” Antonio wondered as they went down the hall and the other two waited until they heard the click of the door until they said anything.
“I knew it!” Francis cried, pointing an accusing finger at Arthur. “I knew you were doing something! You see, I told you. So, did you lie to me the other day, Arthur?” Francis asked, placing his laptop on the desk beside him, hands on his hips. Arthur buttoned his shirt all the way up, his face blazing.
“I never said anything the other day,” Arthur said. “I simply said that I’m a better president than in the past, and that we have all our classes together.”
“Except study,” Francis noted. “Which on Fridays, is this period for you.” Arthur grabbed his tie from the table before him. “So, tell me, Kirkland, just how long has this been going on?” Arthur tied his tie as quickly as he had the other day and didn’t say a word to Francis. He went to the doorway, flicking the light off as he went.
“Do you remember last summer, when you wondered if Al, now that he was all bulked up for the football team, would be one of the best lays of the school?” Francis stared at him, the question taking him aback. He had asked that, drunkenly, at two a.m., in a field behind his house to a group of other European guys, while they were drunkenly surmising things about the other countries.
Arthur smiled wickedly.
“Holy shit, he is so good,” Arthur said, giving him a wink and waving playfully. Francis stood there, dumbfounded, until he regained his senses, snatched his laptop and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Arthur Kirkland you get your scrawny ass back here immediately!” he cried, cutting off Ludwig, Feliciano and Elizabeta, who were coming for the meeting. “You better tell me everything, you hear me? You limey bastard, get back here!” and Francis ran into the other meeting room. He poked his head back out and motioned to his dumbfounded council members.
“Meeting’s been moved in here,” he said, and his golden head fled back inside the room. The other three blinked.
“Why do I get the feeling we just missed something really interesting?” Ludwig asked after a moment. Elizabeta shrugged.
“We have a couple hours before the general meeting, whatever it is, we can squeeze it out of them,” she offered, and the last three walked into what promised to be the most awkward e-board meeting any of them had ever experienced.
--
Notes: The book that Arthur is reading is the article I was supposed to be reading when I was writing this. It's about what defines a "nation", whether it be culture, people,. ethnic groups, whathaveyou. It's actually really interesting, it's just loooooooooong... anyway. Life of a history major.
I hope you enjoy the zaniness!