France
feels
as though he's been gone too long and decides to, ahem, drop in on a certain Englishman.
does not really appreciate surprise visits, especially if it is from the Frenchman. But well, he is currently in his garden tending to_
_the plants.
knows his way around here well enough - and England, even more so - and finds him tending to his roses in the back. Without further ado,
he climbs over short (tasteless) fence and surveys the... er... damage called a garden. But he just watches, for now.
does not want to know exactly what France means by 'knowing his way around him' well enough. And the only damage in the garden was_
_France. He turns around now to work on the bush that was behind him, only to find the other watching. "What are you doing here?"
laughs and lounges over to a bench. He keeps his expression unreadable; maybe or maybe he didn't miss their little spats before. He shrugs.
"How... cold, Angleterre.~ Can I not simply wish to visit?"
clearly did not so he does not see why the other would (actually, he does miss having someone to beat up but he was not about to full out_
_admit that). "Really? I highly doubt that to be the case." With that, he avert his attention from the Frenchman to his rose bushes.
fiddles with a bush of nearby daffodils, inspecting them. Ah, trust the Englishman to have such a... delicate sense of refinement. He pauses
before he answers, somewhat unsure himself, glad that the other's attention is elsewhere. "Ah, but I have been gone so long. Did you not
miss me at all?~"
did not tear his gaze from his current work, if anything, he became more absorbed into it. "No, not really I don't, I have been quite_
_happy without the trouble of having you around." Came his cold and tactless reply.
nods, being quite used to these sorts of responses, although he knew the other could not see said action. "Ah, but of course.~ I suppose
that's plausible, what with your free time being... taken." Pause here. Let's just say the news of his former rival's relationship still
comes as quite a shock.
England
is
oblivious as to what France is trying to imply and as such, did not give much of a reaction. "Well, yes. The paperwork just seems to be_
_endless these days." A sigh. "Which is why I am doing this now since I have been neglecting my garden."
France
is
not at all surprised by the sheer obliviousness England is showing, and it makes him wonder how he even got that far. But he's not going to
stop till he understands, so with a sigh, ambles over and bends as well, poking at the flowers. "I mean, yes, paperwork, pity. But your bed
France
is
quite warm nowadays, non? No need to worry about heating and such.~"
England
is
still oblivious. He raised an eyebrow when France came over but paid no heed. He nodded in response. "Indeed. It tends to be warmer_
_during July and August in London but it is starting to cool now since it is September." A pause. "Why are you asking me all these?"
.... and England calls him the idiot. Groaning and burying his face in his hands, he decides to just come right out and say it - which he
would have done in the beginning if the other was going to be this dense! "What I mean, Angleterre, is how goes your sexual escapades
with a certain American?~" If he didn't get that, then... he was giving up.
pauses for a moment, using that frame of time to let it all fall to pieces. Once it did, he turned an embarrassing shade of red and gave_
_France a death glare, which was not working very well with the colour on his cheeks. "Th-That is absolutely none of your concern!"
watches with sheer amusement as the expression on the other finally changes into one of realization, and he finds himself unable to hold
back pealing laughter. "Non, I believe it is. Any matters related to that fall under l'amour!~ Do tell me, Angleterre, how it is you
managed to get this far when you're really quite dense in matters pertaining to l'amour?" Oh, this was just rich.~
, if possible, turns even redder when the Frenchman laughed. Oh, how he wanted to smack him then but he was not about to risk starting a_
_fight right in the middle of his garden so that would have to come later. "I do not want to be told that by someone who expresses his_
_'love' by means of groping." He snapped. He was going to kill whoever told France about this since he was the last person he wanted to_
_know about his relationship with America.
France
wonders
if he'd still think the same when he finds out it's Matthieu. Ah, well. "Oh?" He doesn't find that the least bit insulting; if anything,
he's flattered the other noticed - but then again, who hadn't? "Tut, tut, no need to be so defensive, Angleterre. If you want some... tips
I'll be more than glad to share.~ That is what you want, yes? (; " Oh yes, he was going to make this his business.
will, fortunately, not hold it against Canada if he found out it was him. He will either assume France is lying or Canada is forced into_
_telling him. "I-I do not need any tips, and most certainly not from you! Now leave me the bloody hell alone, you pervert or I swear I am_
_going to make you pay." Through physical and very violent means.
finds this exchange most amusing, and it reminds him very much of their old days (or... recent days. He just hasn't been around to argue in
the first place). "But who better to ask than moi, the country of l'amour? Surely there are some... positions you wish to try for maximum
pleasure, or...? Toys, perhaps. Big brother will lend them to you.~" Already used to such threats, he stands his ground, smiling and still
fidgeting with the rose bush, mentally comparing his own's superiority.
, on the other hand, does not. It did remind him of the old days as well (but then again, the two of them have always been this way). He_
_stared at France, looking completely embarrassed about this topic. "D-Do not assume me to be the same as you! And you can keep your_
_little play things to yourself." His grip on the tool he was holding tightened as he tried to keep his temper under control.
finds it funny that England is the supposed world's most perverted country, and yet he finds himself completely flustered by just mere
mentions of sexual acts. It really does crack him up, especially pushing his buttons like this. "But of course, you are.~ How are those
erotic novels of yours going? Have you gone through all of them yet? I will be more than glad to - ahem - share, some of mine.~ I'm sure
even Alfred would appreciate new... tips, oui?"
i-is not the most perverted country! France is! And he still insists that the French letter is invented by the other. He threw the tool_
_down now to grab at the French's shirt collar. "Don't you dare lay a finger on Alfred, you bastard."
France
thinks
it totally is true, but ah, well.~ He glances up, just a bit surprised by the rough-handling (read: extremely used to it and the passing
years have only served to harden him to that even more), before recomposing his face into a blank expression. "Moi? I would never.~"
Honestly, he really would never. Nothing about the loud, obnoxious American enticed him in any way. "I have merely suggested that if you
wish to borrow some of my sex books to try out with Alfred, then please, feel free to do so." An eyebrow quirks. "My, my, so defensive,
Angleterre.~"
narrowed his gaze a little. "I am not defensive in the slightest." But yes, he was. He is just in denial. He released him now. "I am sure_
_you know my answer to that will be a 'no'. So keep your personal perversion to yourself. What I do with Alfred should not concern you in_
_the slightest."
let out a silent sigh of relief as he was released; ah, his pretty face was now spared. "Oh, then excusez-moi." He patted his collar
with a little more force than necessary, desiring to straighten it out. "Then shall I say "uptight"? Relax." He sighs, just backing away
a few steps (just in case!). "I am also pretty sure that boy can take care of himself... and you." He adds that as an afterthought; in terms
of strength, someone was definitely beat. "Ah! So you do do something with Alfred!~ Perhaps I shall come by one day and take some pics,
oui? Don't worry, you'll barely notice I'm there. (; "
smirked a little at the crease on France's collar, pleased to have done some form of damage, even if it was something so minor. The smirk_
_faded and turned into a glare at the 'uptight' comment. "Say anything more, and I will take care of you." And by that, he does not mean_
_the good type of taking care. A shiver then ran down his spine, extremely creeped out even by the idea of being watched. He put an arm_
_over his chest now, as if France at this moment could see through his shirt. Which is nonsensical on his part. "Do that and I assure you_
_will never see the daylight again."
finds that causing England to become flustered is definitely his juice, and if he should say so himself, his job. Jibes aside, it was
always entertaining - and refreshing - to see a face that would not hold back emotions, always being genuine. Alfred was a lucky man -
though he was loathe to admit that. "Ah, I'm so scared, mon ami. Are you going to unleash your fearsome armada on me?" He smirks, sitting
back down on the bench, chuckling at the crossed-over position of the man. Oui, because his powers of pervertedness extended to X-ray vision
Er, on second thought, that wouldn't be too bad. "But that's the thing. I doubt you'd notice, considering how... dedicated you get to
whatever you're doing at the time." YouTube, definitely.
"I, in no way, want to be associated with you, let alone be your friend, so please do not call me that." A warning glare now as he bent_
_over to pick up the tool he was using previously. "I would hardly need my fleet, this--" He held up the hedge shears. "--would be_
_sufficient." The blush that had died down a little just moments ago came back at his implications. "I-I..." A groan of frustration. "Ugh!_
_J-Just shut up and take your perverted thoughts elsewhere!" ((YouTube's video length limit will not be enough unless you break it in_
_parts... Many, many parts. /shotshotshot xDD ))
(Omigod, images images in my head. XD; )
still remains unfazed by the accusations; yes, he's heard them one too many times. "I think the Chunnel would beg to differ, mon ami." He
repeats this, with more exaggeration this time. They were... friends, yes, maybe, though neither would probably admit it. Or, he would like
to think so at least; he had been the other's brother for a bit. "And anyways, don't hurt yourself with those." He replies calmly, watching
him with scrutinizing eyes. "Oui, I wish I could, but since I'm here now, I might as well share. Come now, there must be something you
wish to make improvements on, non?"
England
will
, sadly (or not), add in another time to the many. "The building of the Chunnel is hardly my decision, if I had a choice, I would much_
_rather build a cannon pointing at you." On some (and perhaps, strange) levels, they were friends but the Englishman is much too stubborn_
_to admit to it. He did not really liked to be called a 'brother' since well, he have had bad experiences with those. He did put down_
_the shears however. Who would want a blood-soaked garden, after all? "Just because you need improvements doesn't mean I do." He_
_retorted, still wondering why the other is so keen on making 'improvements'... Besides the fact that he was a huge pervert, of course._
_And well, even if he does need help (w-which he do not, of course not!), France is the last person he would ever turn to.
sighs. If anything, he's grown a little above the childish banter (read: just a tiny bit), and so he can only sigh in exasperation at the
sharp words pointed his way. Ah, well, he couldn't exactly expect more from the Englishman. Even their people still had slight animosities
toward each other, and though he was trying to work with that, a certain someone made that a little difficult. "Oh so violent, mon ami.
I suppose it is a good thing after all, that you ended up with someone who can handle you. Dieu only knows just how many can do that."
Chuckling, he goes over to the other's house's back door and peeks in, gingerly turning the knob to see if it opens. He's... sort of tired,
and... hungry. "Ah, Angleterre, really, there is no need to be so bashful.~ You know I would be more than glad to offer my services...
for an appropriate fee, of course.~"
glared at France as he walked towards his house. He bit his lip, he was not sure exactly what he meant by America being able to 'handle'_
_him, but sometimes... He doubted himself. America is young and youthful and he is just, well-- Old. He did not reply to that and picked up_
_his things to keep but turned to look at the other when he started to speak again. "Knowing you, the fee would probably be appropriate for_
_you and unreasonable for me." He put away the tools in his shed before walking towards the house... The backdoor is not locked, by the way.
France
thinks
that England knows exactly what he means by being able to handle him, but on the chance he does not, then he'll leave the poor sap to figure
that out for himself. He pulls the door open - ah, success! - and makes his way in as though he owns the place... but considering how many
times he's come over, it's not exactly something new. He goes over to the kitchen to grab some water, all the while chuckling at England's
protests. "Perhaps... but would it not be worth it for your precious little l'Amerique? I'm sure you'd go to the ends of the earth for
him.~"
England
is
blushing furiously now, up to his ears even. "I-It is not like I will do anything to make him like me back or anything!" He protested,_
_stuttering throughout the sentence. He then glared at him. "And no one invited you into my house."
quirks an eyebrow, taking in the man's reaction with an amused smirk. "Oh, really. I was under the presumption he has you whipped, so
irregardless of what you think, you will probably just do whatever he says, oui?" He moves to wash his hands now. "Too bad, I'm here. Now,
would you like some food?"
"H-He does not!" No, really, to some extent, he did. He walked around the kitchen, huffing a little. "W-Well, it is my house so shouldn't_
_I be the one who is cooking?" He just wants to seize up opportunities to show others just how brilliant his cooking could be.
Okay, maybe he was just being a little bitter, but no, he wouldn't focus on that. Instead, he finds himself laughing at the too true
denial of the other. "Then who is it who tops, Angleterre, hm?" He grabs a chopping board, and a knife. "Please, Angleterre, I am hungry
also. I do not wish to make this my last meal," he says a bit grimly.
scoffs at that. "I top at times too!" He yelled, before realising what he had just blurted out and quickly clapped his hands over his_
_mouth. Not wanting to release his hands and risk saying anything more foolish, he kicked the back of France's leg in reply to his jibe.
snorts and laughs at the outburst, before turning around and revealing a flickering, recording cellphone, waving it around his face,
before he replaces it in his pocket. "And how often does this happen? One time out of fifty, I presu- Aie!" He swivels around, casting
the other a quick glare before turning back to the chopping board, where onions and tomatoes were being cut. "Yes, violent, too. It is no
wonder you chose someone who can handle you."
watches in horror as the mobile phone was presented, having not noticed it before. He would have wrestled it out of the Frenchman then and_
_there but it would not be very wise to do so with the presence of a knife. "I-I did not choose him purely for that reason, so stop_
_making false assumptions!" He crossed his arms now, wondering if he had a hammer in his house he could use to break his mobile phone_
_later.
safely tucks the phone away (he has a feeling he'll have to run once the good is done; just a slight foreboding). "Oui, I suppose. You also
cannot deny, however, that that is part of the reason?~" He chuckles. "Angleterre is so volatile but also so fragile, huh?" The frying pan
hisses, and although it's not close to cooked, there's a mouthwatering aroma. "I suppose that has to count for something, oui? (; "
decides then he could crush it into smithereens with his bare hands. He licked his lips at the smell wafting through the air in the_
_kitchen. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I am not volatile..." Although, deep down, he knew the Frenchman was right and because of that, he_
_can't help but feel worried. And well, France is the Country of Love... He cleared his throat before structuring his question. "L-Let's_
_say, hypothetically, an older person w-who is stuffy, old, traditional and quick-tempered i-is dating someone who is younger, youthful_
_and fun... D-Do you think the latter will get tired one day?"
France
thinks
he should go upload this now while he has the chance. Ah... alright, maybe later. He's rather distracted with cooking the food, which is now
getting that brown-ish colour that he's been aiming for. And now he turns it over, sending it hissing again. He chuckles inwardly at the
question, trying his best not to snort laughing at the question. But he'll play along anyways. "Well... hypothetically speaking, does this
clash affect their performance in bed?"
answered on impulse. "N-No!" A pause. "I-I mean, h-how should I know?!" He leant against the kitchen counter and watched as France flipped_
_the food over. "Should you not have cooked that side for a little longer?" He remarked.
raises an eyebrow at that, before adding some seasoning to the food. "How would you not know, Angleterre...?" He holds a hand over his mouth
to stifle laughter. "Are you saying you go at it blind? How... adventurous of you...~" The meat hisses, and he lowers the heat just a
tad. "Non, that is fine. I hardly think you are in the position to criticize anyone's cooking, let alone mine.~"
"Th-That, that...! I-I was not talking about myself!" He was red up to his ears by now, utterly embarrassed. H-How did France know? It_
_had not occurred to him that he might be a little too obvious. He kept quiet about his cooking though, not wanting to press further.
"Of course you were not. Because there has to be someone else out there who is old and stuffy, dating a young and fun individual, oui?"
He just shakes his head, rolling his eyes a little. Of course it was obvious. "Now, are you sure you don't want any tips?~"
"O-Of course!" He agreed almost instantly, thinking that France was indeed not thinking it was him. As for tips... "W-Well, maybe you can_
_tell me a few, then I could tell it to this... Friend whom I know might need it..."
laughs at the obviousness of the situation; certainly, someone hasn't changed in the least, but that was where all the fun lay.
"Certainly..." He nods in agreement. "But I just want to know to whom I am offering advice." He lowers the heat. "What is your friend's
name?"
"Alfre--" He paused, quickly trying to cover his slip up. "--no! Alfreno!" The name exists, clearly. He nodded a few times, as if in_
_assurance to himself.
raises an eyebrow at the little slip-up, but decides to continue humouring the Englishman anyway. "Ah, and how are you so sure Alfreno
France
needs
my advice? Why doesn't he also just ask me himself?"
waves it off. "Alfreno is too shy to talk about these things with people he doesn't know..." He chuckled in a nervous manner. "A-And he_
_asked me about it, s-so..."
"I see." He's going to keep playing this game because it's just so much fun, and watching him stutter was a bonus. "Alright, then... First
question. Boy-boy or boy-girl relationship?"
, once again, answered almost as soon as the question was out. "Boy and boy!" He then breathes out and flushes. This was embarrassing,_
_even if France does not know who he was talking about, or so, he thinks.
quickly covers up the smile that's playing on the corner of his lips with a cough, distracting himself with the food. "Oui... so what is
the problem exactly? Is the sex getting too... repetitive, or is this advice on their relationship?"
England
thinks
about it for a moment. Was sex repetitive? Not really. But he often wondered if he could really make America feel good. Although, for the_
_latter... He took another moment to think before speaking again, "He loves his boyfriend deeply but is sometimes... Insecure... He is_
_afraid that he might scare off his boyfriend because of it... " He realises now he was speaking of his own apprehension. He sighed_
_deeply, not quite knowing how to phrase what he feels. All he knew was that he gets too possessive of America at times and the other is_
_uncomfortable with it.
France
feels
really odd being the person to have all of England's troubles dumped on him, because for him, it really is something to laugh at, but also
something that hurts him a little. Not that he'd ever show that or admit that out loud, of course. He chuckles. "I see... but why is he so
insecure? It is obvious that if the sex is good, he shouldn't need to feel that way, non?"
England
is
not aware of that, unfortunately. He is as oblivious as the American when it comes to these things. He clenches his fists. "W-Well, I_
_suppose maybe he is being over paranoid..." A pause. "Wh-What do you think of a possessive lover?" He cannot believe he is actually_
_asking France, out of everyone else, for advice.
France
thinks
that England is far too unaware of anything for his own good, even the effect he has on those closest to him. Sad. Thinking about that, he
leaves the meat to simmer a little, preparing some glasses; some wine would go well with this dish. "Possessiveness is not bad, Angleterre."
He peers at him thoughtfully. "Because he is just claiming what is his, oui? But too much of it, well, that's a different story. Think of it
this way... what if his lover had been the possessive one? Would he have really enjoyed being so restricted?" He takes some wine out of
the fridge. "That is what l'amour is about: being equal and putting yourself in the other's shoes. Oh, that, and sex, of course."
wasn't really watching France as he cooked, he was more occupied with trying to hide his surely red face from the other. He thought about_
_it. He did like it when America gets a little possessive but he hadn't really given much thought or even experienced it when he got_
_too possessive. Is that not good, though? It just meant he really loves you. He sighed, wanting to put it off for thinking at a later_
_time. He turned to France at his last sentence. "You are a pervert as always." A pause as he wondered if France ever had anything serious._
_Relationships, that is. "Are you dating anyone right now?" He asked, purely out of curiosity.
continues to saunter about, remaining aloof from the other's thoughts. He would have very much liked it if these questions were voiced, of
course, since nothing made him happier than talking about that subject, and even more enjoyable was the potential blackmail material. He
just rolls his eyes and chuckles at the other's obvious statement, muttering, "Well, of course.~" However, the next words cause him to
freeze, and he grips the neck of the bottle a little too tightly - he was glad for once that he didn't have super strength. Shaking his
head, he lets it go, rearranging a smile on his face. "Angleterre, when am I not dating someone? If you have to ask that, then you don't
know me well enough.~"
notices the tight grip and wondered if he might have said something wrong. Not that he cared, of course. That thought was quickly cut off_
_though when France spoke again. He scowled disapprovingly and turned away in a huff, nose stuck up in the air. "Hmph. As if I want to_
_ know you well, anyway."
sighs in relief at the fact that nothing was said about his behaviour, and immediately resumes to preparing the utensils for the meal and
as usual, ignoring the other's jibes. "Well, whether you want to or not, you already do know me.~ You just pretend not to." He casts the
other a wink before going back to the food.
shivered, the one when one is creeped out that is, at the wink. He got up now and walked over to the Frenchman. "Do you need help with_
_setting up the table?"
France
is
glad he seems to be the only one who is capable of doing that.~ "Ah, oui, if you please. You have to have another purpose instead of just
standing there and doing nothing.~" He finishes up the food and begins to transfer them on to plates to serve.
scoffs at that but helped out with putting the cutleries on the table anyway. He could not help but wonder about the reaction France had_
_gotten earlier. Was it fear? Was he going out with Russia? He could not help but want to pry. "So, which unfortunate person are you_
_dating? One of the nations?"
places the finished food on the table, immediately taking a seat and offering a glass of wine to the other. The smile slips off his face for
a second, before he puts it back on. Must they stay on this topic? "Ah, ah, ah, Angleterre. Whoever dates me would definitely be very
fortunate. I am the country of l'amour, after all. I will show them a good time.~" He chuckles, trying to be light-hearted but failing a
little by the fact that he's holding his wine glass too tightly. "And non, I do not "date". I prefer being a free spirit.~"
took the wine from the other with a muttered thanks. He was not planning to drink it, however. He notices it again. The too-tight grip._
_And the sudden change in expression. France is definitely hiding something from him. "As if." He shrugged a little. "That is fine, I_
_suppose." He was different, in that sense. He enjoyed being tied down. It gave him a sense of security. Although, he was secretly_
_wondering if the French was really as all right as he made himself out to be. They might be bickering constantly but in a sense, they_
_were friends. Admittedly. Grudgingly.
would love to hear Angleterre admit that they are friends...~ Preferably without a sarcastic undertone right after it. That or, bringing up
the past... which he didn't really mind. "You only wish you could still be free like me.~" He chuckles. "But why the sudden questions, hm?
Have you suddenly become so interested in my life?" He gives the other a teasing look, before proceeding to cut up his own food. Maybe he'll
redirect the topic elsewhere...
England
will
never admit that out loud. And even if he does, what France guessed would most likely happen. "I am perfectly happy as I am with--"_
_Alfred. He wanted to say but trailed off, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. He cleared his throat and shot a glare in response to the_
_teasing look. "Hardly. I just wanted to know how far I am ahead of you." It was not true and the reasoning did not make sense. But it was_
_far better than admitting he wanted to know how he has been doing. He had disappeared for quite some time, after all.
raises an eyebrow at that sentence, not sure if he should take the lack of the actual name as a hint or something. But seeing the
embarrassment in his cheeks offers all the explanation he needs, and he just laughs, proceeding to slowly chew his meat. He lets out a small
sigh. "Always on a competition with moi, Angleterre?~ By "far ahead", how do you mean?" He gives the other a little bit of a smirk. "Because
if it is how many people I've "dated" or have had the pleasure to share the bed with, then I will always be infinitely ahead of you, oui?"~
And he also thinks the other's way of evading questions and direct statements to be a bit disconcerting, always giving off the wrong
messages.
just glared at him, looking a little embarrassed at his reply. "Y-You are shameless!" He huffed at him before beginning to eat his food._
_With the amount of (unfortunate) people France have dated, he sometimes wondered if he truly loved those people, or just played around_
_with them. Although, he was certain it was the latter.
France
gives
the other his signature smirk, before shaking his head and continuing to down his own food with actual poise, rather than just stuffing it
down his throat. "Shameless? I prefer to think of myself as romantically-inclined, and that is nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.~"
And England would think that, would he not? He should ask. "Why, Angleterre? Do you want to know my secret?~"
forked down on his food with an unnecessary amount of strength. "Bloody hell no! Keep your perversions to yourself, you damn frog."_
_Romantically inclined, his arse!
just continues to smirk at the response, with a little bit of disgust at how his food was just being devoured like that with no second
thought. "Oui, is that so? Well, you were the one who brought up the topic of my love life, did you not?" He leans over the table to take a
closer look at him. "There must be a reason.~"
England
has
... No sense of taste, unfortunately. Although, he does think MacDonald's tastes quite delicious. It was just unhealthy. He leant away when_
_France leant closer. "W-Well, yes." A pause. "I-I don't need a reason to judge every single thing I do!"
France
thinks
that someone has definitely been a very bad influence on the one person who was always so adamantly against fastfood. Ah, the wonders of
l'amour.~ He continues that smirk and pulls back, surveying the other's eyes that were often windows to his souls... if his outward actions
weren't obvious enough. "Actually, I think you do." He takes another bite calmly. "Because normally, you wouldn't care about my business at
all, would you? Has Angleterre gone soft on me?~"
d-did not like MacDonald's only because of America! It was truly a food that deserves the highest praise. He glared at the other all the_
_while, until France spoke up and worsened the glare. "I-I have not gone soft on anyone! And especially not on you! So stop assuming_
_things!"