France sat quietly in England's house, his head tilted back and his blue eyes dazed and blank of any emotion. His head rested heavily on the sofa arm as he reclined there quietly. One arm rested behind his head for extra comfort, while the other lay on his stomach, the silence in the room so heavy he felt like he was suffocating.
England had recently gone out, having been gone barely an hour. His boss had abruptly called earlier just when he had been kissing England, saying he needed to speak to him immediately. Explaining there was some important details they needed to discuss that involved their country and any future developments they may have in the future.
Though England had tried to protest about the inconvenience about his call, but had been interrupted. Saying he couldn't refuse and had to come to his boss immediately. After getting his briefcase, coat, keys and phone; England had kissed France and promised to return as soon as he could. But ultimately had to leave France behind for a while.
He had been laying in a bored manner on the sofa, sighing heavily as boredom overcame him. He had come all this way to see England after being apart for so long, only to be abandoned. But being the mature person he was, he let England go with a smile and tried to be understanding, despite the fact inside he was furious and wanted to scream down the phone at his boss.
All of his plans had been ruined and he was far from pleased about it as one could expect from this. He had been hoping for a romantic night with England, drinking fine wine, making him dinner and a passionate night of love. But his damn boss had gone and ruined it for him. Stealing England from his despite the fact he hadn't had the time to see him as of late.
Though England was a stubborn individual and a terrible cook. He had a big heart, shown by how he had raised America and helped to raise Canada too. Having dealt with a lonely childhood, minus his company growing up. He was one of the most resilient people he had ever met, having dealt with isolation and loneliness ever since he was a child. Later causing him to crave human contact and yet feel uncomfortable as it was something he wasn't used to.
He was a complex human being but certainly not a bad person, everyone had faults. It depended on what side of your moral code you decided to act upon is all. Though he himself had done many questionable things, he was not a bad guy whatsoever. But that was what made them a good couple, neither was perfect and yet was able to admit that.
Eventually, he sat up quickly flipping his feet over the edge of the sofa and sat up. He couldn't sit around any longer as he was bored out of his damn mind. He was a guest, so he didn't have to sit down until England got back. He decided to look around until England returned home and accompanied him. I mean, its not like he had anything better to do, better than sitting around and going insane from his lack of things to do.
France peered around the upstairs quietly, taking in all of England's décor and trinkets. Though he had come here before, he had never really taken the time to admire it before now. Every other time it had been returning England home from a drunken night out, or simply spending all their time at his place or in England's bedroom.
There were photos of England, Scotland and the others together. Despite their tension and known arguments, from what he could see in these they looked genuinely happy together. While he had helped raise him and doted on him, Scotland had taught him how to hunt and fight, so he would become strong and stand on his own.
There were photos of America when he was a small child, which was not surprising with how often he reminisced about it. But also, some of his Ex ward Canada with whom England was very close. He really loved the two boys and it showed, though he tended to worry about America more than Canada. Which was understandable given how Canada was the most rational of the two brothers.
He and England equally worried over the trouble that America got into, never really thinking half of it through thus ending in disaster. The running to England or another country from help, learning things the hard way. While his brother was level headed, rational and very intelligent, usually only getting into trouble because of his brother or something serious.
However, France couldn't help but wonder how America became so un-cute. Often acting like a spoiled brat when he didn't get his way. Wondering how even after all these centuries America still hadn't grown up whatsoever. While Mattie was polite, adorable and sweet. Becoming a charming young man and a very mature individual too.
After admiring the photos, he continued on through the house wanting to see more. Eventually, he came across a familiar door that he had passed by and entered many times before in the past. He grabbed the handle and turned it, opening the door slowly as he entered the bedroom of his beloved. Trying to stifle the laugh that wanted to escape his lips as he did so. He wondered if there was a British version of being patriotic.
England had a teddy bear on his bed, rested against his pillows carefully. His sheets consisting of the union jack which represented his countries unions. Honestly, Arthur was so British it hurt. Everything so tidy and well organized he was half impressed and half surprised, sometimes he wondered if England was competing with him on trying to be classy.
However, as he entered the room properly and looked around further he was surprised by what he saw. There was a small glass bowl of potpourri on his dresser, which was very unexpected. They were made up of various rose petals, which he had sent England many times before in the past. Given how moody and stubborn England was known to be, he half expected him to throw them away.
It wasn't often England got gifts and when he did it was rare he kept them or looked after them, depending on whom it was that had given it in the first place. As he continued to look around the room curiously, his eyes widened upon spotting his bedside drawers. He slowly leaned down to pick up a picture frame, holding it close to his view.
It was a very old picture of him and England, back when they were just small nations. A fond sigh escaping his lips as he gazed upon himself and England, reminiscing on their youth. It made him nostalgic to see England back when he had been so small. Those rosy cheeks of his and that cute little cape of his. With that little pout he had always worn, he could have given America a run for his money on cuteness levels.
Sometimes he wished he could have his petite Angleterre back for a while so he could baby him. So he would fully rely on him and he could vent his desires to see him as a child once more. He had been so stubborn back in those days, always trying to outdo him. But that hadn't changed much all these years later. But he had been strong willed and independent which he had admired greatly.
Though other nations like America teased him and called him grumpy, which he could admit was true. England had experienced an anything but easy childhood, something he could attest to. He knew that better than anyone, he had grown up alongside England after all. He knew every hardship and painful memory England had experienced during that time after all.
He then placed down the picture carefully where he had found it. The decided to look around the room a little more, now feeling a sense of curiosity and mischief about him. Looking at all these presents and trinkets brought back so many memories, ones he thought he had long since forgotten and was reliving again as if it were the first time.
He then spotted England's dresser, where he kept his clothes. Wanting to check out just what kind of clothes England owned compared to the green suits he always wore. He never seemed to have much variety and honestly, he wondered if he should take England shopping sometime and give him a little variety in terms of fashion.
He rummaged around, a small smirk spreading across his face and snorts of laughter escaping him. Though he was indeed impressed by the collection of clothing he found. There were many a band T shirt from England's teen years and misspent youth as a nation. From what he recalled they were from the 60's and 70's, England's very loud rebellious faze.
There were many well known and infamous band shirts like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, the list went on. As much as he was teased for acting like an old man, England had damn good taste in music and that could not be denied. It was just like him to collect nostalgic T-shirts, having held onto them all these years. But never wore them when he was around others, preferably when he was alone at home.
Probably not wanting to be teased or gain unwanted attention, though America may tease the crap out of him for it. He could see Russia's sister Belarus getting along with him, as they shared a strong love of music. Though he did not speak to her often, she had many hobbies and interests outside of her protective nature towards her brother.
He then closed the drawer silently, pulling another one open. Only to realize he had hit the jackpot this time, he had found England's underwear drawer completely by chance. A pervy smile spreading across his face as all sorts of ideas swarmed through his mind. In the past he had only ever seen England wear his infamous union jack shorts before.
He rummaged around and was surprised by the collection that he found. Having never expected England to own any of these, seemingly like the kind of guy who only dressed in proper garments. He had to admit, these were pretty sexy by England's standards. There were some skimpy black briefs, which would cup England's ass very nicely and give him a very mature look.
There was one banana hammock which he couldn't help but laugh at. As well as a pair of leather zip open crotch ones, which looked like they could have belonged to the likes of Germany. France blushed profusely as he stood there in awe admiring England's underwear. As expected of the perverted ambassador, though he really wished he could England in them for real.
He then continued to look through, eager to see what other treasures he could find. This was like the goldmine of secrets about England he had never known about. As his lover he didn't like England keeping things from him. Upon his rummaging, he even found a letter addressed to England from himself. Having half expected him to throw it away or burn it.
It was a note he had sent on valentines last year, alongside flowers which were now made into the potpourri on the desk. He couldn't believe England had kept them so carefully all this time. He then smiled warmly, love filling his heart. England was such a mushy git, being a romantic at heart much like himself. Though he would never openly admit that, or he would be teased the crap out of.
Suddenly, he was snapped out of his daze by an unexpected surprise. The front door opening and a familiar voice calling out to him. "Francis, I'm home. I hope you behaved" he replied in a semi warning tone. He hadn't meant for things to drag on so long, but his boss had needed a word with him and the conversation seemed to go on forever.
France stiffened, his body shutting down as he started to panic. England would kill him if he found out he had been snooping around without his permission. Especially given he saw his skimpy underwear. He folded the note quickly and shoved it back into the drawer carefully. Closing the drawer as carefully as he could. He then attempted to sneak out of his lover's room as carefully as possible.
He didn't want to fight England, knowing the latter would simply get upset and sulk for hours about it. Over the years he had learned to avoid doing anything to seriously upset England that may end with him being hurt. As he carefully sneaked across the room trying to not make any noise, he carefully opened the bedroom door.
Upon doing so, his eyes widened, and his heart dropped. There standing outside on the other side of the door, was none other than England himself. He was busted, no way out. England stood there with his arms folded and one eyebrow raised "Find anything interesting Francis?" he asked in a suspicious tone. He was wearing an annoyed smile which almost always meant trouble.
France panicked, he knew what this looked like, but he was innocent this time. "Angleterre" he replied shakily hoping to calm him. He hadn't done anything perverted or indecent, he had just been satisfying his curiosity.
England silently peered into the room, inspecting it for clues to see if France was innocent. Drawers were open showing he had indeed been looking around, aside from that everything else was in place. He was honestly surprised that France had behaved himself and not gotten into trouble. He then sighed in relief knowing that no mishaps had happened while he had been gone.
He then smiled at Francis in a playful manner "Find anything nostalgic?" he teased. He had kept many things since his birth as a nation, every single item being precious to him in some way or another. A lot of them he shared with France, so of course this would bring back nostalgic emotions in France as well as himself. It was to be expected.
France blinked in surprise, half expecting to have been yelled at or scolded. Surprised the Brit wasn't angry at him like he thought he would be. He averted his gaze awkwardly. Trying to word it in a way that didn't give away what he had gotten up to while he had been gone. "Photo's of us as kids and…" he trailed off.
He peered at the potpourri sitting on the desk. He had never expected England to not only be amusingly nostalgic but romantically too, he just never seemed like that type of guy. But to know he had liked the flowers so much as to save them and recreate them into something new, that meant a lot to him and made him very happy indeed.
England blinked, then spotted the small jar of potpourri he had been collecting. His own cheeks reddening, feeling like a small child who had stolen sweets before dinner. "They were lovely, so it would have been a shame to waste them" he replied awkwardly. Francis had always been harping on about it, so he tried it for himself to see if it was truly as great as he said.
France nodded awkwardly in agreement, the tension submerging him. Though he never thought England was into that sort of thing, as he seemingly found that sort of thing distasteful. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so flustered before, it was like he was a young maiden having just confessed to their teacher or something.
England's shy look then changed to a cheeky smirk. He then wrapped his arms around France comfortably, pressing himself against him. His hands resting just above his butt. "Were you that lonely you came to my room?" he teased playfully. It would only be natural to do so; his room would smell like him. Such a thing would prove to be comforting given how lonely France would have been.
France blushed, as England pressed himself against him seductively. Feeling his growing member within his trousers, revealing his desire for him. Though he could be the seme from time to time, England usually took the role. Despite the stereotypes due to their personalities and heights. He had always been a verse by nature, able to give or receive love.
Suddenly England backed him into the room and pushed France onto the bed swiftly. France crashing onto the bed in surprise, his cheeks bright red and his waves flowing on the bed. Some tumbling onto his face. England leaned towards him, a playful glint in his eyes causing France's heart to pound inside his chest. "Allow me to comfort you love" he replied in a teasing manner, a glint of his infamous smirk showing.