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The Scent of a Rose	By : larien04 Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2849 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I make no money off of this fic!

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Letting out a frustrated sigh England decided that he had enough socializing for one night and he was going to let the trio have their fun; the party had mostly been for Francis’ sake anyways. He hated that stupid American bastard right now. Why the hell did Francis have to be right, for once? Folding his clothes neatly over the dresser chair he dressed down to his boxers and curled up in bed debating on whether he should wait up for his fiancé’ or not. Thinking of the drunken state his lover had been in when he saw him last the British Nation decided that he would let Francis’ come up when he was ready and with that he turned out the light.

It wasn’t long before Arthur was awoken later that night by a shift in the bed weight. “Francis?” he asked, not even bothering to open his eyes “What time is it?”

Wrapping his arms around his half-conscious lover Francis kissed the man’s neck softly “Go back to sleep, cheri, it’s a little after three.”

Pressing himself closer to his love Arthur sighed contentedly “Did you at least bother to put the glasses in the sink? They’ll leave rings on the table…”

“Yes, cher.” Francis shook his head at how predictable Arthur was “We made sure to leave your house the way we found it.”

“Good. Goodnight, frog.”

“Bonne nuit, mon cheri.”

The next time Arthur woke up the sun was in the sky and casting its light across the bed, giving a warm sort of glow to the green silken sheets and making the man next to him look unreal in his beauty. It was times like this that Arthur had a hard time believing the Frenchman actually wanted him in his bed every night.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts he would never admit to out loud the British Nation kissed his lover once on the forehead before divesting himself out of bed for his morning tea. He was mildly impressed upon assessment of the downstairs to see that Francis had been telling the truth and the house seemed to be mostly in order.

While he waited for the water to heat Arthur reflected on last night’s events and was annoyed to find that he couldn’t get the image of Alfred’s hurt expression out of his mind. He could still hear the man’s broken voice; ‘ Alright, Iggy…’ and he couldn’t deny that even after a century’s time it still hurt him to see Alfred in so much pain.

It couldn’t be helped though; their time had come to an end long ago. The damage that was done from times past was deep enough that the two would never be able to truly reconcile and even if it was possible that it could be fixed, Arthur wasn’t so sure he wanted to fix it. He had Francis now and the idiot made him the happiest he had been in a long time.

Thinking of Francis made him feel disgustingly guilty knowing that he was downstairs harping over last night’s events and pitying his former lover while his fiancé slept blissfully unaware upstairs. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he decided that maybe he was over reacting just a little bit; nothing had actually happened between him and Alfred last night so why did it make his stomach twist into knots of guilt every time he remembered Alfred’s hand on his face?

Arthur’s guilt complex was starting to irritate him; why should he feel so bloody guilty over a simple touch? He had seen Francis do more than that to a pretty girl when the Frenchman would try and make him jealous and he had never seen a hint of remorse or guilt in the man’s eyes so why was it that he was feeling so guilty?

Sighing in frustration he crossed his arms and decided that he would just have to tell Francis about their conversation even if it did amount to nothing, he just hoped that Francis’ wouldn’t be overly angry with him with their wedding just a few short days away.

Arthur’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feel of arms around his waist and lips at his neck “Bonjour Arthur, why didn’t you wake me up this morning?”

“You came to bed late; I was trying to be nice for once.” Arthur replied casually, taking the pot off the burner.

“Merci, now come back to bed so that I can wake you up properly.”

Smiling despite himself at the man’s playful nature Arthur chastised the man to stall for time “You can see I’m trying to make tea and if we go upstairs then you’ll keep me up there forever with your silly games and the tea will be cold by the time I come back for it. You’ll simply have to restrain your libido until I’ve had my tea.”

Francis put his hands up in mock defense “Désolé, désolé, I should have known that nothing can come between a proper gentleman and his tea not even amazing sex.”

Arthur was normally irritable enough in the mornings as it was and there was zero chance that he was going to tell Francis about his conversation with Alfr...no, he wasn’t going to use that name anymore, America, without getting something to calm his nerves first.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Angleterre”

Arthur was impressed by how astute Francis could be when he wanted to be “Nothing is bothering me, what makes you say that?”

Pinning Arthur between himself and the counter Francis held the Briton in place with his gaze “You aren’t that difficult to read, mon cher; your eyes give everything away, they always have.”

The Brit both hated and loved the way that Francis could see right through him and he wondered why he had even bothered to attempt to beat around the bush. “America and I had a conversation last night…”

Francis smiled and ran his hand through Arthur’s hair “I know, cheri, I know.”

“What? How?”

“Gilbert noticed how rude America was being when he left without saying so much as a ‘goodbye’ to any of us and I got up to see why he was leaving so suddenly. He told me that it would have been ‘un-heroic’ of him to not tell me what he had said to you and so he told me everything. He told me how he touched your beautiful face” Francis imitated the motion from the previous night and Arthur pulled back as if the motion was painful, and to him it was. “He was heartbroken and I felt bad for him; I don’t know why but I did…I think it was because I knew what it felt like to lose you and I understood the pain he felt.”

“What do you mean? Francis, you have never lost me.”

“Non that is not true. When they told me that you had lost your memory I thought I was going to die then. The way I felt when I thought I had lost you…well, I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anybody, not even America.”

Arthur was speechless, he was generally a good person but he couldn’t think of a single good deed he had done to deserve somebody like Francis. “So, what did you tell him then?”

“I told him that all he needed to do was open his eyes and he could be happy. Mathieu loves him so much.”

Arthur blinked in shock “…you gave him love advice?”

“Oui, I am the country of love, after all.”

Shaking his head in disbelief Arthur tried to make sense of the predicament he was previously so worried to tell Francis about. “Right then, so, you got up to confront him and then he confessed that he had just tried to make me leave you…and you retaliate by giving him love advice...? I was worried this entire bloody time that you would be cross with me over the incident and here you are, happy as bloody day.”

Francis smiled “As always, Arthur, you get excited over nothing.” Taking advantage of Arthur’s temporary disbelief, before the shorter blonde exploded, Francis leaned in to kiss his lover tenderly. “I forgive you, cheri, so stop berating yourself” he whispered in his lover’s ear.

Blushing furiously, Arthur tried to defend himself “I...just…I just didn’t want you to think that I would…well, you’re the only man that I…it’s just that I...”

Enjoying this immensely, knowing that Arthur was terrible at expressing his feelings, he felt compelled to let the man suffer just a little bit. “Yes? What are you trying to say?”

Knowing exactly what the frog was doing and seeing his too innocent expression only further flustered the usually well-spoken Brit. “I love you idiot and youdon’tneedtoworryaboutAmerica” the last part was spoken too quickly so that the words all ran together.

“Oh? And why is that?” Francis attempted his oblivious expression.

Arthurs face was now beet red and the only thing Francis wanted to do when Arthur got like this was to bend him over the kitchen table and have his way with him. The way Arthur struggled to form such simple affectionate sentences made Francis want the Briton even more than he had when he woke up, but first he was going to make him suffer just a little bit more.

“Don’t be an idiot…you know why.”

“Non, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Knowing that the man was not going to let him go with his dignity still intact Arthur finally relented “Because you bloody tosser, you’re the only person I would ever consider being with and if you ever tell anybody I said that I wi—“

Arthurs indignant rant was cut short by Francis lips on his effectively silencing the emotionally stunted younger nation. “That wasn’t that hard now, was it?” the lighter blonde attempted to conceal his smirk but failed miserably.

“Yes, actually it was” Arthur muttered as Francis’ skillful lips moved down to his neck and then to his collarbone.

“Are you done with your tea now” Francis asked between kisses knowing full well that he had never even given the man a chance to get the tea leaves out of the pantry.

“Yes, I suppose I am” came the sarcastic reply.

“Bon. Now, come upstairs…”Francis didn’t even bother waiting for a reply before grabbing Arthurs hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

Smiling to himself and feeling an invisible weight being lifted off his chest, Arthur concluded that maybe he could forgo his morning tea just this once.

A/N: Just a short and simple fluffy segue way into chapter 20.
- 18
- 19
- 20
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The Scent of a Rose