literature

Aftermath (FrUK)

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When Arthur saw the new suit with a note attached to it, he was suspicious. When he read said note, his suspicions were confirmed.

Dear Mr. Kirkland,

it has been brought to my attention that our relations with the French Republic

could be brushed up on. Therefore, you have been scheduled for a dinner

with Mr. Bonnefoy tonight at 20:00 at Les Deux Salons. Wear this. Regards,

the Minister of Foreign Relations


Arthur stared down at the note for a moment, not quite able to believe what he had just read. He went over the words again, and then a third time. They didn't change or magically disappear. Checking his watch, he realized it was just after 18:00. He took the suit and note inside, immediately making his way over to where his wall phone was.

"Minister of Foreign Relations' office." the secretary said cheerfully.

"This is Arthur Kirkland speaking. Put me through immediately." Arthur snapped.

The secretary was slow to react. "Mr. Kirkland, he is in an important meeting at the moment, I'm afraid I cannot-"

"It is a matter of utmost importance- moreso than whatever meeting he is attending. Put me through." Arthur said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The woman murmured a 'Hold on,' and then left, presumably to fetch the Minister. Meanwhile, Arthur's eyes traced the ink lettering of the note once more before moving on to examine the suit more closely. It really was a nice suit. Pure black, with silver buttons- and was that his crest engraved into each one? -, a crisp white shirt, and deep emerald tie.

Finally there was a bit of rustling on the other end of the line and the Minister spoke. "Arthur, I really hope this is important."

"It is!" Arthur insisted. "What's this about dinner with a frog?"

"That is not-" the Minister sighed. "The French Foreign Minister recently called me with a proposition that we get together to strengthen the relationship between England and France- and we came up with the idea of a da- dinner."

"You were going to say date, weren't you?"

"I was not."

"Sir, if you're trying-"

"We are merely thinking of the good of both nations. The French Minister and I will also be having a dinner and discussing policies, but this is a perfect opportunity for you and Francis to sit down and relax for a night. Didn't he take you out a few weeks ago?"

Arthur reddened slightly. "That was nothing. Merely lunch and a trip to the museum."

"Yes, didn't he do it to get you to relax a bit?"

"How do you know that?!"

"Arthur, when was the last time you relaxed?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"That is unimportant." the Minister said, seeming almost amused? "Answer mine now."

"Oh for- I dunno, maybe two weeks? Three?" Arthur sighed. "...You're not letting me get out of this, are you?"

"Not a chance!" the Minister said cheerfully. "Oh chin up, Arthur. It won't be that bad, the restaurant is very fancy, and the French Minister said that he and Francis will pick up the bill. The suit is a gift from him, you know. Supposedly it is some new fashion straight from Paris."

"Wonderful." Arthur muttered, not at all sounding as if it were wonderful. However, he did perk up a bit when he heard that Francis was paying. He suddenly had an appetite for something very fancy and very expensive.

"I expect you to show up and be a proper gentleman."

"I will, don't worry, sir." Arthur suddenly realized something. "But sir, I don't even know where-"

There was a click on the other end and the Englishman found himself talking to a dead line. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment before composing himself and placing the phone back. By no means did he slam the phone down, no, he placed it down very gently.

After tossing the note into his rubbish bin he strode over to his bedroom and hung the suit up on his door, stepping into the shower for a quick freshening up. He was out ten minutes later, and while he was drying himself off and dressing, he booted up his laptop to find directions to this Les Deux Salons place. When he was done putting the new suit on he temporarily forgot about getting directions in favour of examining himself in the floor-length mirror in his closet.

The suit wasn't too different than the many ones he already had, but he could tell some variations in certain spots. The jacket pressed against his sides and shoulders a bit more, giving them more support, while the pants hugged and emphasized his ass- something Arthur was sure Francis had a hand with. But overall he couldn't say that he didn't look good, nor that he didn't like it.

He turned his attention back to the laptop and typed in the name of the restaurant. He was surprised to find it was such a prominent establishment, but then figured he hadn't paid that much attention to it because it was French. But he got the directions to it, and then stepped out just before 19:00.

The restaurant wasn't close, but it wasn't terribly far away either, so Arthur just decided to walk. He didn't want to arrive ridiculously early, a situation that would arise if he took a cab, and he didn't mind the opportunity for a nice stretch of his legs. The London streets passed by in a whirl of colour and sound, but Arthur didn't pay too much attention to them.

As he passed a florist he did slow down, and after a moment of consideration, entered. The lure of the 'Fresh Cut Roses' sign was too much for him to resist, plus there was a little pocket perfect for a little bloom to reside.

The Minister of Foreign Relations was waiting outside the restaurant, talking to another man whom Arthur presumed was the French Minister. They were engrossed in their conversation and didn't notice the Englishman until he was standing right next to them.

"Good evening, sir." Arthur told his own Minister, before turning to the elegantly dressed Frenchman. "Bonsoir, Monsieur. Enchanté." Although he hated to admit it Arthur did know French fairly well, though he almost never spoke it unless absolutely necessary.

"Enchanté." the French Minister responded, inclining his head slightly.

"Mr. Kirkland, I'm glad to see you made it. Mr. Bonnefoy is waiting for you inside. The reservation is under his name."

Arthur nodded shortly to him. "Will you be...joining us?"

The Minister smiled. "We will go in shortly, once we finish our discussion and our smokes."

"I see. Well then, gentlemen." With a final nod, Arthur entered the restaurant and was pointed to a table for two off to the side, where he could see the familiar shoulder-length blonde ponytail.

Francis was sitting with his back to the door, so therefore he didn't see Arthur approaching either. As Arthur passed him and took his seat across from the Frenchman, he could see him flipping through the menu with slight boredom. It was probably his umpteenth time doing so.

"Evening, Francis." Arthur said.

"Ahh, Arthur, you are here!" Francis's blue eyes flicked up from the menu to meet Arthur's and immediately a certain warmth flooded into them. He set the menu down and reached across the table to lift up Arthur's hand and gently kiss it. "You look well in that suit, tell me do you like it?"

Arthur cleared his throat and eased his hand away. "Yes, I'll admit it's nice. Though, you owe me an explanation, frog. What are you playing at? And don't give me that innocent look, I know you had something to do with this."

Francis saddened for a brief moment, and he pursed his lips. "You owe me an explanation as well, cher."

"Pardon me?" Arthur was confused. "You're the one who instigated this dinner, I owe you nothing."

"Because you are ignoring me!" Francis's eyes flicked over to rest on the rose at Arthur's chest for a moment, and then back up to his face. "After that day we shared, at the musée, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Exactement!" Francis shook his head. "You act like it never happened, like there was nothing between us! At meetings you act as usual, you never answered my questions about another day out, nothing." His voice softened. "I am not understanding why you are doing this, Angleterre..."

"Human names, Francis." Arthur hissed, looking around, but no one appeared to have heard him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two Ministers entering and sitting down a few tables away.

"Names do not matter now." Francis replied. "Why are you being like this?"

Arthur was silent for a while, looking down and tracing the patterns on the tablecloth with his eyes. His hands he held clasped out in front of him, the fingers intertwined and playing absently with each other. "There's no reason for me to act any different. You only took me out out of pity." he finally said, his voice unreadable.

Francis just looked at him for a while, and then finally shook his head. "I had thought you would know me better by now. I do not do things out of pity, especially to you. I have done many things before, some to spite you, some to show you up, some even to hurt you." His eyes hardened slightly. "But I have never done anything out of pity." None of the nations had- it was not in their nature. They kept fast with their beliefs and would keep on fighting until either victory was achieved or they keeled over from sheer exhaustion and overexertion.

Arthur glanced up at him, surprised. He didn't often see this side of the other nation. "Francis-"

"Non." Francis suddenly stood. Arthur tensed and the two Ministers broke off from their conversation to look over at them, but the Frenchman only walked around the table and held out a hand to Arthur. "Come. Let's go to a more private place?"

Arthur hesitated, but then took his hand and allowed Francis to pull him up. They ignored the stares of the other patrons and the questioning glances the two Ministers were shooting them, and Francis led them out of the restaurant, only pausing a moment to retrieve his coat. He pulled Arthur along for a while, a small part of him surprised the Englishman wasn't struggling too much, until they reached a smaller, more laid-back restaurant/bar on some side street a few blocks away.

Francis nodded to the bartender and took Arthur to a table in the back corner, near one of the speakers softly playing music. He pulled the chair out for Arthur and gestured for him to sit.

"Thank you..." Arthur said softly, very much surprised by this turn of events.

"This place is so much better, is it not?"

"It is more...subtle, I suppose." Arthur replied.

"Oui. I thought you might appreciate this more than that loud, stuffy restaurant." Francis folded his hands on top of the table. "At times, elegance can get so overbearing."

"So..." The tension between the two of them hung thick and dark, caused by Francis's earlier outburst. At least, that's how it looked to Arthur. The Englishman didn't quite know how to breach the topic again, and he gestured with his hands ambiguously for the other man to begin.

Francis took the incentive with a small smile. "I did not go out with you because of pity, Arthur."

"Go out-" Arthur sputtered.

"Oui." Francis reached out to rest his hand on top of Arthur's. "You were tired, et overworked- as I see you are today, but I suppose I should have expected it. Have you had any relaxing days at all since then?" He didn't wait for Arthur's answer. "But going back, I just wanted you to ahh...how do you say it? Loosen up?"

Arthur didn't respond, but he didn't move his hand away either.

The silence stretched out between them for a few more minutes, but then the intro to a song began playing and Francis stilled, a small smile breaking out onto his face again. "Ahh, perfect timing..."

The Englishman got the sense that he wasn't to say anything for the duration for the song, so he held his silence and listened.

It's the price I guess
For the lies I've told
That the truth it no longer thrills me

And why can't we laugh?
When it's all we have
Have we put these childish things away?
Have we lost the magic that we once had?


Francis had closed his eyes briefly, but now he opened them and looked upon his companion. There was a certain sadness in the blue depths, a type of weariness and age that could only appear in someone that had been around for a long time. It looked wrong on the French nation's face, and yet because of Francis's nature as the nation of love, it was almost as if he had more right to it than anyone.

In the end, In the end
There's nothing more to life than love is there?
In the end, In the end
It's time for us to lose our weary minds

Will you dance with me?
Like we used to dance
And remember how to move together


A soft smile appeared on Francis's lips, and Arthur couldn't help but remember their dance in the music room of the museum. Francis's hand squeezed his lightly and he looked up, meeting the blue eyes with his own green ones and knowing that Francis's thoughts were running along the same lines as his own.

You are the torch
And it all makes sense
I've waited here for you forever
I've waited here for you forever


The sadness on Francis's face intensified again, and he murmured something, but Arthur couldn't make out what he was saying. His head bowed a bit, but still he didn't move his hand away.

In the end, In the end
There's nothing more to life than love is there?
In the end, In the end
It's time for us to lose our weary minds

We're lost 'til we learn how to ask

We're lost 'til we learn how to ask

We're lost 'til we learn how to ask
So please, please just ask

In the end, In the end
There's nothing more to life than love is there?
In the end, In the end
It's time for us to lose our weary minds


The song finished and another one started playing, but there was silence between the two of them for a long while. If the atmosphere seemed heavy before, it was even more profound now. A part of Arthur was cursing Francis. The Frenchman always seemed to pick songs that drove right into the deeper parts of him, forcing him to explore feelings he didn't want to.

"I did wait for you."

A soft voice broke through his thoughts, and Arthur's head snapped up to stare at Francis. "Pardon?"

"Perhaps not forever..." Francis said, his voice a bit louder. His eyes bored into Arthur's. "But I did wait. Et now I'm not so sure how much longer I can."

"Francis?"

"It hurt me, you know. That our little day didn't mean anything to you." Francis didn't waver in his stare. His lips quirked up into a smile. "That was one of the most pleasant days I had in a long time." But it quickly faded. "And then...nothing. I thought you enjoyed yourself. I thought that maybe-" He shook his head. "I do care for you, Angleterre. It may not seem like it all the time- everyone must have their fun- but I do."

Arthur still didn't say anything.

"Oui, I did pull some strings to organize this dinner. But only so I could see you again. I had hoped to receive some answers..." Francis trailed off when he saw Arthur was still unresponsive, and he slipped his hand away.

Quiet settled over them again, broken briefly when a waiter came by. "Would you like anything?"

Francis glanced up at the young man. "Ahh, oui. A coffee would do nice."

"Sure." The waiter turned to Arthur. "And you, sir?"

"Oh." Arthur was startled out of his silence. "I'll have some tea. Earl Grey."

"They'll be out soon."

Arthur watched him leave, and then turned his gaze back to Francis, realizing with a start that the other nation hadn't taken his eyes off him. "It didn't mean nothing."

"Hmm?" Francis tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Our...day. It didn't mean nothing to me. Just..."

"Just not much?" the Frenchman supplied.

"No! God, you're making this confusing." Arthur rubbed his temples. "You'll understand, I hope, why I didn't believe you at first, given your nature...and mine..." He laced his fingers together on the tabletop, struggling slightly with finding the right words.

A small smile broke out on Francis's face. "At first?"

Arthur glanced up at him and a soft blush coloured his cheeks. "Yes. I suppose if you're this persistent, I'm...more inclined to believe you."

"Really? Merci, Arthur!" Francis took Arthur's hands into his own once more. "One chance is all I need!"

Arthur reddened more, but he nodded. "All right. One chance. But I swear, Francis, if you hurt me I'll personally destroy you. And your precious tower."

Francis smiled, brushing off the threat. "That will not happen." he said confidently. Their drinks came then, and Francis pulled his hands away so he could drink. He sipped at his coffee contently, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, it's making me uncomfortable." Arthur muttered into his own cup, but there was the tiniest of smiles on his own face. "And stop acting like this made you so ridiculously happy."

"Oh, but cher, it did." Francis smiled more broadly for a moment. He ran his eyes over Arthur's attire once more. "You know, I can realize where your obsession with suits comes from. You pull one off well. Especially one from my home."

Arthur glanced down. "It is nice. Surprisingly comfortable."

"The latest fashion."

"Ahh, so all French men will be walking around with their arses so nicely emphasized?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. They were slipping back into familiar banter territory, and he relaxed.

Francis cleared his throat. "Well, this one might have been a...how do you say it? Special case?"

"Mhm." Arthur looked amused, but not surprised. He suddenly got up and walked over to the bar to order a Welsh Cake. As he suspected, Francis was watching him the whole time. "And did it serve its purpose?"

"My, did someone slip alcohol into your tea? You are attempting at flirting?" Francis chuckled. "Oui, it did."

Arthur looked affronted. "What, you think I can't flirt?"

"It is such a rare occurrence when you are sober that I think the world forgets." Francis said. "What do you say we go to your home after this?"

"And do what?" Arthur took a bite of his Welsh Cake and delicately licked his fingers clean.

"Mmm, similar to what you are doing now."

"Wh- Francis!" Arthur almost choked, and he quickly recovered by drinking some of his tea. "I swear, you see sexual innuendos in everything!"

Francis chuckled. "I am the nation of love. Mais, maybe not everything is. You might be the one seeing them everywhere, being such an affection-starved little Englishman."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur looked offended, and he angrily bit into his cake.

"Non, non, there is nothing wrong with wanting more affection." Francis reached across to gently brush some crumbs from Arthur's cheek. He was worried for a moment he had taken it too far, since they were on such delicate terms, but Arthur leaned into the touch.

"As long as you're not too bloody affectionate." Arthur eventually muttered.

"Quoi, like Alfred?"

"Exactly like Alfred."

Francis laughed softly again as he drank more of his coffee. "I was actually thinking more of relaxing again. An evening in."

"And food? You haven't eaten."

"I ate before going to Les Deux Salons." Francis replied easily. "It was never my intention to stay there. However, I needed to obtain the interest of the Ministers. Et it is good for publicity if they are seen together there."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You planned this very well."

"I wanted it to work." Francis shrugged softly, and sent the other blond a warm, hopeful smile.

"You can be a downright sneaky nuisance when you put your mind to it." Arthur commented, stirring his tea lazily. "But a relaxing evening does sound nice."

Francis's smile grew. "Perhaps we can repeat the last time? In the bed? But maybe with a little...more?"

"I'm not sleeping with you, Francis." Arthur said flatly. "At least not sexually."

"Non, non. Love is not only from sex." Francis drained his coffee and waited patiently for Arthur to finish his food and tea. He then stopped the Englishman when he reached for his wallet. "Non, allow me. I promised, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did." Arthur leaned back and allowed him to pay, and then linked arms with him when Francis held out his elbow. "Straight to my house, then?

"Oui. No point in wasting time." Francis smiled down at him and led him off into the night, in the direction of the Englishman's house. Their path took them past Les Deux Salons, and Francis was pleased to see their two Ministers getting along. But then his Minister glanced over out the window and spotted them and he sped up. "Come on, Angleterre!" he called, breaking into a run.

Eyes wide, Arthur glanced into the restaurant to see his own Minister staring at them and starting to stand up, and a kind of thrill overtook him. He ran alongside Francis for a good ten plus blocks, narrowly dodging pedestrians and cars alike. When they finally slowed he was breathing heavily and laughing, and leaning more on the taller man.

Francis, his own breath coming in puffs as he chuckled, put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He was pleased when Arthur didn't pull away, and gradually their breathing returned to normal as they came upon Arthur's house.

It was then that Arthur disentangled himself from Francis, but it was only so he could unlock the door and enter. He allowed Francis in and then locked the door again, and turned around to find the Frenchman watching him intently. "Francis?"

Francis stepped forward until he had pressed Arthur against the door, and he leaned down to press his lips against the smooth skin of the Englishman's throat. A soft smile came to his face as he felt Arthur curl into him, and he left a trail of small kisses going upward until he reached Arthur's mouth.

"Francis..." Arthur breathed, right before their lips connected. He pressed firmly back against the taller blond, though he made sure to keep the movement of his lips gentle against Francis's. He felt Francis's hands travel upward to his shoulders and hook about his peacoat, tugging it off, and he did the same with the other's dark blue overcoat.

"Mmm..." Francis slipped from his coat and slid Arthur out of his, and the two pieces of clothing were tossed carelessly to the side. But both of them were still wearing far too much, and he was pleased to see Arthur's thoughts running along the same path as his own when slender fingers began working at the buttons of his shirt. Francis had gotten one chance to prove his seriousness about Arthur, and this was it. But he only needed this one night. He could prove his love, his affection for the other nation, and he could do it easily. But judging by what was happening now, Arthur didn't need so much evidence as he did a push- a gentle little push that would send him the rest of the way into Francis's arms.

Arthur's tongue probed at Francis's lips as his legs were hooked around the Frenchman's waist and he was pulled away from the wall. He gained entrance on the stairs, just as Francis lost his shirt. He explored Francis's mouth while the man undid his own jacket and dress shirt, leaving them behind in the hallway. And he drew back, Francis's tongue following him, when they finally made it to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, Arthur resting comfortably on top of Francis's chest.

Francis only tasted Arthur's mouth briefly before the need for oxygen forced them apart. But he was satisfied by the distance they had traveled without breaking. "My, cher, why didn't you tell me you had such a skilled mouth?"

"There was no reason for you to- ahh! Know..." Arthur let out a moan as Francis returned his attention to his neck, kissing and biting and sucking upon every exposed inch of skin he could reach. The Englishman tensed and rolled over, putting Francis on top as he writhed under the ministrations of Francis's tongue and teeth.

"That will change now, won't it?" Francis slowed in his actions, the kisses becoming more gentle and controlled. Then he stopped, and simply hung over Arthur, propped up on his elbows.

Arthur relaxed, sinking into the sheets as he looked up at him. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Oui..." Francis tilted his head to the side slightly. "But only with your agreement." he said with a small smile.

"Hmm...and if I were to say no sex tonight?"

"Then there would be none." Francis leaned down to press a kiss to Arthur's nose.

"You are serious." Arthur reached up to caress his cheek.

Francis leaned into the touch and snorted softly. "Really? It took my refusal of sex to convince you of this? Oh cher..."

"Oh belt up, I know how much you like it, so..." Arthur shrugged half-heartedly. He looked up at Francis a bit nervously, afraid that this might have driven him off.

But Francis only smiled and laughed. "You know me well. But, not all of me."

"Well...I would like to?" Arthur said softly.

"Oui, oui..." Francis murmured, lowering himself so he rested comfortably on Arthur's chest. "Et I would love to discover all parts of you, mon lapin."

Arthur wriggled underneath him. "How would you like to start with my skin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Top half only for tonight, and the front."

Francis chuckled. "Setting boundaries, are we?"

"Can't have you getting bored after one or two nights."

"Rosbif, I don't think I could ever get bored with you." Francis obligingly dipped down to kiss his cheek, and then jaw, and then neck. He was gentler this time, biting more with love than with lust. The hickeys he left behind were just as red, though he concentrated most of his bites below or on the collarbone rather than on the neck, where they would be out of sight.

Arthur moaned again, curling up towards Francis as he lost himself to pleasure on account of the Frenchman's skillful teeth and tongue. Places on his body he didn't know could be pleasured were now almost bursting with it, and he went limp with bliss. After a while- he didn't know how long, having lost track of time- the lips upon his skin slowed, and he took the opportunity to give back a little bit. He leaned up and bit down firmly on a spot high on Francis's neck, sucking hard and long enough to leave a large hickey that would last for days, if not even upwards of two weeks.

"A-Ahh..." Francis let out a low moan at that, and he curled his head down to rest in the crook between Arthur's neck and shoulders, breathing gently against him. "You are possessive, Angleterre..."

"Damn straight." Arthur muttered as he pulled away. "So don't go flirting with every bloody thing that moves."

Francis nuzzled to him. "Cher, you know I like to give compliments et make people feel better..." Feeling Arthur's teeth bite down on another part of his neck, he quickly kissed the skin his lips were exposed to. "But I shall make it as little sexual as I can." he promised softly.

"Good." Arthur murmured to him, softening his bite and gently licking the red spot left behind. Then he raised an eyebrow as something warm poked against the inside of his thigh. "Oh? Hard, are we?"

"Tais-toi."

Arthur chuckled as his hands slipped down to stroke the erection. He was pleased when Francis returned the favour, and together they stroked each other out. He came before Francis, arching into the other blond, and the Frenchman came not too long after him. As the sparks died down in his eyes and his sight returned to normal, he pulled Francis down into a messy kiss.

Francis eagerly responded to him, and his arms wound around Arthur's body, pulling him close. "Mmm, cher..." he murmured, happily curling around him.

Arthur shook his head gently, but he was smiling. "What, enough for you?"

"Enough for now..." Francis pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "May I stay the night?"

"You hardly need to ask, at this point. I thought it was a given, at least for tonight." Arthur replied, getting comfortable in his arms.

"Merci." Francis felt he had passed, at least for now. He knew it wouldn't be easy, their relationship, but he was willing to give it a shot, and give his best, and he felt reasonably sure Arthur would do the same. He relaxed and closed his eyes, feeling Arthur' muscles go lax as he fell asleep. He drifted off minutes later, a small, content smile on his face.

~~~~~

The next morning, Arthur woke alone. He looked around, anger rising in his chest, but then spotted the neatly handwritten note on his bedside table. The furrow between his brows lessened as he picked up and read the slip of paper.

Cher, I must leave you early this morning, as I need to find

my Minister et make either the first or second boat across la Manche.

I hope to hear from you or see you again soon, mon amour. Je t'aime.

Francis Bonnefoy


"Git." Arthur muttered at the paper, but a small smile appeared on his lips. He had Francis's number on his phone, so he pulled it up and called, waiting impatiently as the dial tone sounded.

"Bonjour-"

"Next time you're staying longer, and not giving me a bloody heart attack in the morning, you hear frog?"

"Arthur?" Francis chuckled. "As you wish. You found my note?"

"Obviously. And you're lucky I did, before I did something I would have regretted."

"Tch, rosbif, a little trust. While I must hurry away now, I hope next time I will be able to stay for longer. However, I have my duties, and don't you as well?"

"Oh don't you start being the responsible one." Arthur snapped lightly at him.

"Don't be too surprised, cher. Ahh, the boat is about to depart so I must go under, but I will see you soon, oui?"

"Yeah. Bye, Francis." Arthur ended the call and got up, carefully placing the note back in its spot on his night table. He stripped the sheets from his bed and stuck them in the wash before taking a shower himself.

Glancing at the time he cursed and quickly dressed, not even sparing a glance in the mirror. He had half an hour to get to an important meeting, one that it would not be good if he was late to. Skipping breakfast and pulling on his coat as he ran out the door, he hopped in his car and then only just made it in time to the office.

He smiled brightly at the woman in the elevator with him, and she smiled back before suddenly glancing downward. Her eyes widened slightly and she coughed, shifting away from him. Arthur's brow furrowed and he sent an inquisitive glance in her direction. The elevator doors opened and the woman stepped off, but not before gesturing to her neck.

Arthur blinked and shifted so he was in front of the small mirror in the elevator, and when he caught sight of his reflection he reddened. His neck was covered in hickeys and red spots, mementos from last night. Arthur coughed loudly even though he was alone and quickly turned his collar up, hoping to hide some of the marks, at least. It didn't really work, and when the elevator stopped on his floor he quickly walked to his office to drop his things off, trying to avoid as many people as possible. The meeting would be interesting for him, in his state.

"Good morning!" the Minister of Foreign Relations said brightly, leaning out of his office. "I see you've had a nice night."

"If you could kindly be slightly less noisy about it, I would appreciate it." Arthur muttered to him, tugging on his collar a bit.

The Minister laughed and reached back onto his desk, though he paused mid-motion. "Would you like something to cover it up?"

"That would be helpful. Err, do you have anything?"

"Take your pick." The man held up a French flag patterned scarf and a Union Jack patterned scarf. "Whichever one you'd like."

Arthur reddened again as he took the Union Jack scarf, not even wanting to question how his Minister of Foreign Relations knew he would need it.
This is a continuation of 'A Day Out', so I suggest you read that first (though, you probably read it before getting down here, so I guess you can read it now...)
Les Deux Salons actually does exist, and is a pretty fancy restaurant in London.
Song is 'In the End' by Snow Patrol and belongs to them. (www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIv5G5…

This is also a Christmas present for my good friend, but I hope you all enjoyed it!
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
© 2013 - 2024 justwhymsical
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ladyblackbird13's avatar
Oh those sneaky Foreign ministers! I love how they ship it! XD