Hetalia One Shots!

"Sweet Nothings" FrUK

*Slight lime warning

  You know that person. That person. You just hate that person. Everything they say and do absolutely irritates you, to the point of wild rage. Yeah, that person.
  You've hated this person for as long as you've known them. So long, in fact, that you've forgotten why you hated them in the first place. And so, every time you see them, you make a big deal about it. It's too late to go back.
  It's just normal. Almost comforting. When people think of you, they think of you and them. Fighting. You know everything about them. All of their secrets. You are just waiting for the perfect moment to use them against this person.
  But you don't.
  The scary thing is that they know everything about you. They know what you like and hate, know how to get under your skin. Everything.
  As you grow older, go into a constantly changing world, your hatred for them is the only thing that stays the same. The only constant. And so you desperately cling onto this 'hatred', you need it.
  When this person is sad, you want them to be happy, so you have a reason to hate them. You love to hate them. And then, you don't hate them. You love them. You love that person.
   But you are too scared to act on these emotions. What if they really do hate you? What would everyone else think? Do I really love them, or am I just going crazy?

  That's the story of Arthur Kirkland's life. And 'that person' for him was his arch enemy Francis Bonnefoy.
  No one really knows how their disfunctional friend group formed, but it was like a giant family. Arthur was okay with everyone in said group, except for Francis.
  Their hatred was both loved and despised by everyone. It was strange when one of them was gone. The other acted like they didn't know what to say or do. They were always together. Fighting, of course, but still together.
  So, when Arthur realized his feelings for Francis, he was absolutely devastated. How could he love Francis?? When Francis would give him a strange, almost lustful gaze from the other side of the room, or whispered something dirty in his ear, Arthur would pause.
  A small part of him almost whispered something else back, returned the gaze, but he didn't. He couldn't believe it. Arthur would go back to autopilot and yell something at the other man, or smack his shoulder.
  But pretending wasn't the same.
  No one else other than Francis seemed to notice anything, which was why they all seemed so surprised when it all came to a head.

  The group was meeting at Gilbert and Ludwig's home for a New Years Eve party, when the fighting began.
  No one paid any attention to it. Some smart remark about Arthur's 'ugly' jacket left Francis' lips when the Englishman stepped into the house. A rude reply about Francis' hair was shot back immediately, as if Arthur had expected this very conversation.
  A scoff from Francis, and then he made his way over to Arthur to help him get his jacket off.
  No one noticed the sultry glares or the lustful words whispered between the two, because no one paid any attention to either one of them when they would exchange dialogue. Because it would always be the same recycled insults and overused name-calls.
   No one noticed the blush that appeared on Arthur's cheeks when Francis 'accidentally' touched the Englishman's behind, or when his hand lingered there for longer than an accident would.
  More arguing ensued when Arthur remarked that the 'Frenchman is hogging all of the wine'. Francis said something about Arthur not even liking wine, which was followed by Arthur saying that he didn't like it because it smelled like Francis.
  No one noticed how Arthur trailed off at the end of his sentence, or how Francis did a motion with the wine bottle that resembled deep-throating.
  The night was normal, well, normal as it could be with those people. By eight in the evening, Gilbert, Mathias and Alfred were smashed, pretending to strip on the table, with Antonio and a very drunk Berwald throwing money at them, Matthew, Ludwig, and Kiku were having a quiet conversation in the corner of the dining hall, Yao was cooking God knows what in the kitchen, Tino and Feliciano were doing karaoke in the living room, Ivan, Lukas, and Lovino were playing a drinking game, Emil and Leon were holding puke buckets for the three playing the game, and the rest were playing seven minutes in heaven.
  Feliks and Toris were in the closet together, (everyone rigged it, because they all shipped the two together), and everyone was quietly chatting, waiting for the next round. Arthur and Francis were fighting, as usual, when it started.
  Arthur stood up in the circle of people who were all sitting and yelled, "That's IT!!!" He spoke so loudly that everyone stopped talking, and the only sound was the quiet karaoke song that had no one singing to it.
  Francis stood up also, and stared at him angrily. He was taller than Arthur, but not by too much, so he held his head up high to appear taller.
  It was almost completely silent for a solid three minutes, the air was thick with suspense. Everyone slightly wished that they would've heard what the two had been bickering about, but it was too late for that.
  People were expecting a fist fight, because they'd never seen either one of them so angry. Whatever they'd been arguing about must've been important, since the look in both of their eyes was sharper than daggers.
  Finally, Arthur found his voice, and even though he spoke at a normal volume, his words seemed to boom through the house. He jabbed a finger accusingly on Francis's chest in what appeared to be a seething rage.
  "You. Francis. You just... Just.... I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!" Arthur half screamed half cried his last statement, tearing his face away from those cutting blue eyes.
  Then, everything appeared to happen in slow motion.
  Arthur turned back to face Francis, then roughly grabbed the Frenchman's shirt collar. A lifetime full of fury collided together in an instant.
  He pulled Francis down to his level harshly, then crashed his lips against the other man's. It was rough at first, teeth smacking and biting the other's lips furiously, causing blood to trickle down their faces. Then, Francis tipped his head slightly and successfully locked their lips, caging back years of repressed lust and passion.
  The friends watched in shock as they saw Francis's tongue push its way angrily into Arthur's mouth and saliva mix with blood, heard the angry grunts and moans being exchanged between the two, saw bulges beginning to form in both of their pants, saw the way they clung to each other with a desperate need. When Francis's hands began to wander towards the buttons of Arthur's shirt, a few people gasped.
  And that's when Arthur remembered where he was. The moment that represented the head of their lifelong fight was over faster than expected, and everything returned back to normal as he flung himself away from Francis suddenly, and quickly glanced at his friends. His entire face was red with a blush, with blood and saliva dripping from his lips, and he looked out of breath.
  A few tears stung the corners of his eyes before he wiped them away furiously and sprinted out the back door into the snow. Once Arthur was gone, all eyes flew to Francis, who was feeling his bleeding lip.
  He looked at them, opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and ran out the door.
  The house was silent for a while, before Alfred muttered two words that seemed to be on everyone's mind.