As The Petals Fall (FRUK)

Chapter 8

For another seven chapters, it will be cute little issues and stuff that surface remembers.

Possibly some dirty like this one ;)

~Ireland

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"Arzhur... I remember when I caught you singing to One Direction."

France opened the door, shutting the old door then locking it. Where was England? Hearing a beat, Francis followed the noise. It got louder as he walked into the basement, and it became more clear.

"England?" He muttered, but no use came to it. There England was, British flag t shirt on, the tips of his hair blue. He held a black electric guitar in his hands, a lip piercing now very distinct due to a ring that attached itself to his mouth.

"And we danced to the Best Song Ever! We knew every line, now I can't remember! How it goes, i don't know! But I know that I won't forget her, because we danced all night to the best song ever!" The Brit sang, strumming happily. "I think it went, oh oh oh! I think it went ya ya ya! I think it gooooes..." He trailed off, stopping for a bit.

"SAID HER NAME WAS GEORGIA ROSE!" England's tune was perfect, and he didn't bother showing off his voice. "And her daddy was a dentist! Said I had a dirty mouth, but she kissed me like she meant it!"

"I said, can I take you home with me. She said, 'Never in your wildest dreams!'" France laughed, hearing Arthur sing this dirty line. "AHHH!" He shouted, eyes widening. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!? YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE BACK FOR ANOTHER HOUR!"

"YouTube!" Francis chuckled, phone with the recording in hand, running off. England took off the guitar, dashing after him. France laughed, taking pictures of England happily as he teased him.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" He yelled, reaching for the phone and missing again.

"SO, YOU CAN TAKE ME HOME ANGLETERRE!" Francis teased, sticking his tongue out.

"NEVER IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS!" England giggled at the reference. "GIVE IT!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

"Nope!" And he was off again, posting the video quickly. "You have a lovely voice, Angleterre." France shoved the phone in his boxers, causing England to blush madly.

"Seriously?" He scrunched up his nose, bottom lip twitching.

"You're just so cute when you're all 'punk.'" France winked, squeezing the Brit's hips.

"Eek!" England tried his best to leave, but failed. Francis took this chance to grind his hips onto England's. "B-bloody..." He trailed off, feeling a tight hold around him. "Y-you're just a stupid perverted fr- nh.. Frog..." He finished, biting his lip piercing.

"Onhonhonhonhon~ Angleterre likes?" France purred seductively.

"Damn you..." England growled, lip bleeding now.

"Let me get zhat for you!" France kissed England passionately, heart racing as he felt the Frenchman's lips on his. A tongue cleaned the blood, and he escaped soon after, panting.

"Nnnhhh... Stupid wanker." He blushed, "Why does he have to be so cute?"

"I heard zhat!" Francis said, causing a squeal to erupt England. "Say..." He pushed England away from the house, sliding against the wall while pulling the Brit forward. "We've hooked up before... Why not now?" This earned a groan of approval, "You are zhe cutest uke I know!"

"Hey! I-I could top if I wanted to!" He retorted back.

"How about now?" France's tongue trailed up his neck, and a groan quickly escaped him. "Feel good?"

"M-mhm..." His sleeve was rudely pulled to one side, and France kissed along his neck until he found his sweet spot. Right behind the ear, a little downwards. A squeak came out of the British uke, responding to the touch of his sweet spot. "Damn you... Just fuck me already."

"Whatever you say, my Angleterre."