Exotic Butters(Hetalia High School AU)

The Definition Of Perfection

Arthur gained consciousness once again on the couch, but this time he actually felt comfortable and warm.

The couch was so comforting in fact, that he decided it wasn't time to get up yet, instead enjoying the warmth he was being supplied and snuggled into it.

Wait, but...

The couch wasn't always this cosy, was it?

Did it always radiate heat?

And... Why did his pillow have a heartbeat?!

That knocked the remaining sleep straight out of him as he looked up and found out he was sleeping on top of Francis the whole time, his head resting on his chest. Francis arms were draped around him protectively and their legs were intertwined around each other.

The first thought that came to him was to pounce off of the French teen, but for some reason, his body felt heavy as soon as his mind suggested it and wouldn't allow him to move.

Instead, his eyes drifted(without his consent!) to stare at the Frenchman's perfectly crafted face, admiring his strong jawline and his long eyelashes that framed his closed eyes.

His blond locks rested on his shoulders neatly and didn't seem one bit tangled after sleeping on the couch the whole night. How it happened, he didn't know.

It seemed as though the elegance in his face didn't diminish at all while sleeping, dare he say, he was even prettier like this.

Lucky frog.

Then the concept of time hit him full force and he feared he had stared for too long so he tried to scramble off of him.

Little did he know, the seemingly limp hands that were around him suddenly gained life and wrapped tightly around him, pulling him back to their owner's chest.

"Francis, you were awake!?" He accused. He was wide awake while he was ogling his face like a creep?! Oh dear.

"Non."

"But you-"

"Sshh, cher, savour the moment." He whispered softly and stroked his hair, making the British blond timidly relax into his hold.

The couple layed together in complete silence, enjoying the shared heat and untypical peace in their relationship. Arthur took comfort in the fact that Francis didn't mention his gawking and hopefully only woke up when he was disturbed.

"As-tu bien dormi, mon ange?" Francis interrupted the reticence, still sounding half asleep.

Arthur lifted his head up and looked at Francis and slightly opened his mouth to say something, until Francis realised he spoke in the wrong language.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"It's fine! I-I mean, I don't mind you speaking your froggy language, you know... As long as it's only with me, and not with her!" Arthur proclaimed determinedly.

Francis gawked at him in surprise, wasn't this the same Brit that judged him for his French the first day they met?

"Shut your mouth, you look an eejit right now." He ordered sharply.

Francis shook his head and beamed up at the male with a quick nod.

Ugh, why did he have to smile so idiotically whenever Arthur displayed the smallest gesture?!

"Also, I asked, did you sleep well?"

"Oh, y-yeah I did," he answered.

"Hmm, perhaps it was because I was sleeping with you, we should sleep together more often~" Francis suggested, getting a light punch from the younger, but what Arthur wouldn't admit was how that's exactly what he wanted.