Chapter Text
Everyone knew Arthur and Francis were rivals.
Everyone also knew that was the biggest lie they've ever heard.
— ♡◍~ Arthur POV ~◍♡ —
“Quit bothering me, frog!” Arthur hisses at Francis who was hovering over him like always distracting him at his office desk and going on and on about whatever attractive women he had newly slept with.
He laughs, that stupid, cocky laugh that Arthur hated. “Mon cher! You should have seen her! Her hair was as blonde as the sun! Ahh…it reminded me of you ....” Arthur paused at that remark.
Taking a deep breath, he goes to respond but pauses, having a thought;
Did he seriously think of me when he was hooking up with some girl?
He quickly pushed it away, it was just a simple thought he had. It's not like he thinks about you all the time. He told himself, even if he didn't believe himself.
“Mon cher ami...are you alright?”
The words snapped Arthur out of his small thought spiral. He couldn't help but notice the slight worry on Francis’ face. The way the sunlight coming through the window made his perfect wavy hair glimmer.
“Yes, just zoning out…you are aware I'm not interested in your sex life, right?” Francis scoffs, “You suddenly don't care about the well-being of your dearest friend?” He smirks, the stupid playful kind that Arthur always hated…yet he didn't mind as much when Francis did it. “I don't think your hookup will affect your well-being…plus, since when I am your dearest friend?”
Francis’ smirk falters for a moment, like he wasn't expecting that kind of answer. He quickly recovers, acting as if he wasn't hurt by Arthur's words.
“What would be a more fitting title? Mon rival? Mon cher? Mon amour?”
Arthur stares, quickly hiding the light blush in his cheeks. He quickly looks away, knowing he'd become a blushing mess if he looked at the Frenchman for even a second. “How about my name, Frog? That'd be nice.” Francis’ smile falls to a more awkward or disappointed smile.
“...Of course. As you please Mon amo- Uhm…Arthur.” Arthur shudders at the use of his name, feeling slightly upset with himself. He quite liked Francis’ silly little nicknames. Even if he hadn't realized it before it was far too late to take back his words.
Francis adjusted his collar that didn't need any adjusting, quickly clearing his throat. “Alfred called a meeting in about 4 hours by the way. Since he's visiting Europe for a bit. I think he just wants everyone to get together and talk…you know how he is.”
Arthur was in fact, far too aware about how Alfred is. He raised the pathetic American, and honestly questions if he was like this from the beginning or if he had done something oh so wrong while parenting him…
“Yes, I'm aware. I suppose I'll see you there then.” Francis nods and walks off, while Arthur stares at his desk, feeling a strange feeling in his chest and a pang of guilt.
— ~★• Time skip •★~ —
Arthur walked into the meeting room, only to be greeted with Alfred panicking and almost every European country standing around. “Good god America! What's got you so panicked?” Alfred stops in his tracks “Thank God your here dude! I kinda sorta didn't think many of you guys would show up but I was like…completely wrong!” Arthur sighs, already bracing himself for whatever Alfred got himself into. “Yes, what had that got to do with anything?” Alfred laughs nervously “There sorta isn't enough chairs for all you dudes…”
Arthur paused and sighed. He expected something like this. “That's fine…I suppose we could use other things as chairs like perhaps a foot stool or just sit on the table itself-” “Or people can sit on each other's laps!” Arthur didn't even reply. Utterly baffled at Alfred's idiocy.
“We won't be doing that Alfred-” “Alright dudes! It's decided then! Start pairing up!” Arthur just facepalmed, accepting that this was happening. Arthur sincerely hoped someone would speak up, but as always, everyone just played along with Alfred.
Only about 3 pairs were needed. Italy and Germany paired up pretty quickly, “I don't mind having Italy on mine.” and Sweden pulled Finland into his lap surprisingly fast. “I'll have M’wife sit with me” Only one more pair… Arthur thought, Maybe Denmark and Norway? Or maybe- His thoughts were cut off by Alfred shoving him in the direction of Francis.
“You're the last guy standing dude! Hurry up and sit!” “Alfred I am not-!” His protests were immediately cut off by a sharp shove and landing into Francis’ lap. Who obviously wasn't expecting to be a seat. “Alfred! Mon ami!” Alfred just laughs and shrugs “Sorry dude, you were the only one who wouldn't mind Arthur on your lap” Francis points his finger at Alfred accusingly “Whats that supposed to mean?!”
Alfred laughs and gives no explanation, simply walking to the front and starting his incensent talking. Arthur attempts to get more comfortable on his lap, despite Francis not being a very comfortable chair. Arthur freezes when he feels Francis' hands on his waist and hips, steadying him.
Arthur was honestly surprised the damn Frenchman hadn't gotten hard and horny yet. He seemed…calm. Worried perhaps? Nothing like the normal cocky and loud Francis' he knew and didn't really love…yet the more time he spends with him, the more he finds Francis somewhat tolerable.
Francis was quiet. Which was unlike the Frenchman, and was slightly unnerving. Francis seemed to sense his discomfort and gently pulled him more into his lap, Arthur subconsciously leaned into Francis. He hated to admit it, but Francis did make him feel warm and unusually safe. “Comfortable?” Francis' voice was soft, like he truly cared. Which he doesn't. Arthur reminded himself.
Sure, we've had a few hookups. But that was ages ago. Plus, it was just for release, not attraction.
Not attraction.
— ✿~✧• Francis POV •✧~✿ —
Francis couldn't help but stare at Arthur. The way his legs cross, his soft breathing. God he wanted him. Badly. Of course, Arthur would never admit it. So neither would he. Francis has always been good at buttering up women and the occasional man to hook up with, but when it changes to dating. He's atrocious at it.
“Always the bridesmaid. Never the bride.”
Francis hated that quote. Not because it was bad, it was perfectly worded, but because it was stupidly true. Francis had attended weddings, yet has had none of his own. He's had dates, but it always ended with exhaustion and an cold empty bed that used to be warm. It was never warm for more than a night.
Francis was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Arthur nuzzling into him, What in good gods name-
Arthur was fast asleep on Francis’ lap, looking rather content and peaceful. Francis knew that Arthur never slept well, especially in places that aren't in his house. Which meant he felt comfortable and safe, which made Francis’ heart flutter. But more importantly, he wasn't going to wake Arthur up, which also meant he wasn't going to get up anytime soon. And he wasn't complaining, looking at the gorgeous man on his lap. Seeing his lips part while he's sleeping, god…he would love to see those lips wrapped around- He quickly pushes the thought away. Quit being such a perv…
— ~★• Time skip •★~ —
Francis still had Arthur in his lap 30 minutes later before Ludwig walked up to them “Francis, I know you and Arthur are having…a moment…but you can't stay in the meeting room forever.” Francis groaned, he knew Ludwig was right. He couldn't sit like this forever, but the thought of waking up Arthur when he so very clearly needed sleep, sounded like an impossible task. “Alright…Merci, Ludwig.” Ludwig gives him a sympathetic look, probably having dealt with this before, before turning and leaving the meeting room. Now it was just Francis with an exhausted Arthur sleeping in his lap. “Mon Dieu…What do I do with you…?”
Francis somehow managed to pick up Arthur and stand up without waking him up. Francis stared at Arthur for a moment, internally debating where to put him.
I can't bring him home, I don't have the keys to his house…I guess I could just take his keys out of his pocket but…
Francis mentally shakes his head, that was too invasive. Even for him.
Just bring him home with you.
The thought rang in Francis' head, it was the most logical, yet he didn't want to do it. Ever since the little argument they had, Arthur refused to go home with Francis for any reason.
Maybe just a few more minutes of holding him…
Francis' grip tightened, just simply holding Arthur when he's so vulnerable like this, made his heart swell with happiness. He sighs
“Guess your coming home with me”