literature

France X Britain-An Evening in Paris

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OyopsOfPoyo2013's avatar
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Literature Text

EDIT: OMFG SCORREEE
MY SISTER IS LIKE A FANFIC AFICIONADO
AND SHE SAID THAT MY FIC WAS GOOD
YYYYYYYEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS

Uhm 
My hand slipped

I was bored and on an 18-hour car trip
Plus we just watched Ratatoullie
So enjoy your crappy FrUK

(I apologize beforehand for the heavily implied smut and my tired writing capabilities)
---------------------------------
France sat in his house, glass of wine in hand, admiring the walls and his decor, when a furious Btitain stormed down the stairs. "France, do you have nothing better to do than invite me over just to torment me? At least talk to me, you wine-guzzling frog!"
France smiled. "But Monsieur Britain, I never invited you! You came if your own accord, remember?" The Frenchman stated with a confident sip of his wine.
Britain stared at him. "Are you bloody mad? I would never visit this sty if my life depended on it!"
France gave a small onhonhon. "Well, anyways, you're here…so you must stay for dinner." The blonde rose from his seat and placed the wine glass on his coffee table. Walking up confidently to Britain, he poked the Englishman's chest. "What do you expect the main course to be?" France hinted, staring into Britain's eyes.
"Are you mad? Get your wine-soaked hand off of me, you wanker!" Britain slapped the Frenchman's arm away, then quickly turned around to hide his slight blush. "Anyways, I'll be upstairs while you prepare dinner. A gentlemen never gets his hands dirty with other people's work." With that, the Englishman walked up the stars he came down, leaving a flirty France to watch his ascent. Chuckling to himself, France walked into the kitchen and began their dinner.
Sometime after, the Frenchman stood over the stove, almost done with a fine-smelling dish. "Oh, Monsieur Briii-tain! Dinner is done!" The blonde man crowed. 
When no cheeky response followed, France started getting very worried. "Mon Dieu…" A hushed exclamation escaped the Frenchman's mouth. He quickly plated his dish and hurried to the stairs he had last seen the Englishman at. "Britain! Stop this nonsense! My dinner will go to waste, so get out here immediately!" When yet again nothing responded, the Frenchman bit his lip in worry. Hurrying up the stairs, undoing his apron as he did so and hanging it on the rail, the Frenchman continued to call for Britain. He paced the upstairs for a while, checking every door, when he found a note on one door, quite obviously left by Britain. It read 'Don't even think about it, you wanker!'. France laughed as he realized it was the bedroom. As he went to open the door, he found it locked. Rolling his eyes, the blonde undid the lock and went to turn the knob when an obvious shuffle from behind him attracted his attention. He smiled deviously, watching a door behind him subtly close. He got up and ran to the door, leaving the bedroom behind.
He skidded on the carpet, opening the door and about to yell in victory, when he realized what was happening.
Britain was standing in front of his window, looking out in to the beautiful city of Paris, lit by the romantic evening sundown. The Englishman had not yet acknowledged France's prescence, but the blonde knew he would soon.
As expected, Britain spoke. "Lovely, isn't it?" Wistfully he breathed a sigh. "We have views like this in London, but it's not nearly as beautiful…"
France smiled. Strutting up to the troubled Englishman, he swung the man around to face him, stroking his chin with a gloved thumb and curling his fingers around the Englishman's other hand. "There are even more beautiful sights than this, Monsieur...like that of moi."
Britain blushed but smiled, getting the same idea as France. The two leaned in for a kiss.
France smiled and dodged his face, instead giving him a peck on the cheek. He then pulled away from the stunned Englishman, smiling and laughing. "I'm not thay easy to sway, imbecile." Playfully he ran off.
As France ran through the house, he enjoyed hearing the love-dazed Englishman's steps behind him. "Get back here, you frog!" The two darted down the stairs, Britain in hot pursuit. 
France laughed louder as they reached the base of the stairs. "How long will this game if yours go, Monsieur Britain?" Gracefully France faked out Britain, running up the stairs again.
Britain snorted. "It's over as soon as I catch you, you wanker!"
Suddenly an idea swept over France. He kept running and, taking advantage of Britain's diverted attention, he backed himself up against the bedroom door, his hand ready to pull the knob. Britain looked back to the Frenchman, surprised, but unable to stop. In a feat of perfect timing, the blonde man turned the doorknob just as Britain fell into his planned embrace, the two of them catapulted backwards into the bedroom. France leaned in and the two shared a smooth airborne kiss before crashing onto the bed, cushioned by the soft padding. France then broke up their kiss with a sly smile, rolling over to make him on top, pinning the Englishman down with his hands pressing in to the bed on either side of the man's shoulders. Only then did he stare long at the Englishman's face. Both were panting from their chase, and Britain's hair was ruffled, but both wore expressions of pure, passionate joy. France leaned down for another kiss that seemed to last forever, to his enjoyment.
When they returned to two people, Britain snorted. "You dumb buffoon, you ruined my surveying of your beautiful country.
France replied with a playful smirk. "If you want a view, you haven't seen one yet." Climbing off of Britain and the bed, France led the man to a window in the bedroom. Dramatically he swung open the curtains to reveal the most stunning view of Paris you could imagine, even complete with the Eiffel Tower. Britain looked shocked and France smiled, admiring the stunned face of the Englishman.
France stared at Britain knowingly. Walking to the man's side to peer out at the sight of his beautiful county, he swept the Englishman into the position once more-a gloved thumb on his chin, their other fingers intertwined beside them. "Shall we finish the scene, Monsieur?" France suggested.
Britain smiled defiantly. "You have this here just to woo everyone, don't you-"
His last words were cut off as France grabbed his hair in both hands and pulled him in for even more kissing. 
The romantic lights of Paris at sunset illuminated the two during their long, romantic scene. France of course was enjoying every moment, while of course Britain at first tried to pull away but was quickly subdued by the Frenchman's cool demeanor. This time they released the kiss slower than before. France stared at Britain, eyes full of romantic promise. "Ready for dinner yet, mon amour?"
Britain stared back, a faint smile accompanying the blush in his face. Looking straight into the Frenchman's blue eyes, he twirled a long strand of France's blonde hair with his finger. "Depends. What have you prepared?" It was obvious to France that the Englishman's mind was definately not on dinner right now.
France smiled. "You know you like everything I make, Britain."
"True," Britain smiled, perhaps thinking of other things the Frenchman could make. However romantic the scene was, though, they soon joined each other for dinner.
France was right and Britain enjoyed the meal. Soon nighttime fell and it was time for Britain to return to his residence. 
France watched with a disappointed face as the Englishman left without so much as a peck on the cheek. He had hoped for a little more romance that night, but how close he got with Britain was okay with him. As he turned around to return to his house, he heard an anxious, "Wait!" Behind him.
Smiling, France turned around and accepted the Englishman back into his arms. Smiling as he combed Britain's hair with his fingers, the Frenchman looked down as Britain spoke. "I won't leave…yet. I'll stay for tonight, but tonight only." With one look at the Frenchman's face, he screwed up his own in disgust, taking a step back and glaring at France. "And don't you DARE try anything. I don't care about…what we just went through." By the end of the sentence, the Englishman's face completely contradicted his words.
France smiled. "Of course, Britain. Of course." ~♡

-------------------------
There you have it, damnit...what have I done...
Alternate (*coughcoughshort butsmuttycoughcough*) ending here ------>sta.sh/01aq9o5uu1ub, Begins after "His last words were cut off as France grabbed his hair in both hands and pulled him in for more kissing.")
I am done
With life
Goodbye
Comments16
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Zarex129's avatar
Yaoi level -
BEGINNING = Pat on the head
MIDDLE = Slap to the face
END = 10 ton hammer to the face
... And I like it

SO MUCH YAOI