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"Harder!" Arthur hissed in less than a moan, and more of a demand. His ankles were locked around Francis' back, the other man deep inside of him. They were both dishevled, Arthur's shirt pressed up but not off, Francis' shirt off but his pants down far enough to fuck Arthur.

They had been in a bit of a rush. 

"Arthur.." Francis muttered softy, leaning down and pressing a kiss that was too gentle to the skin below Arthur's ear. "I do not want to hurt you." 

Arthur groaned, jerking his hips a little bit to get Francis to move inside of him. He felt like he was burning, he felt like he wasn't getting enough. "Fucking- Francis, I want you to hurt me, you stupid- ah!" 

Arthur's sentance was cut off with a yelp in surprise as Francis pulled out of him. Arthur scowled, eyes turned up to the celing. This wasn't like them. Francis wasn't like this. Usually, the Frenchman jumped at the chance to knock Arthur around a little bit. But instead, he could feel Francis giving him a look of genuine pity. He wanted to be devoured. He needed to be doing something.

"Arthur," Francis spoke in a tone of voice that Arthur was unfortunately used to. The diciplinary tone, when Arthur did something wrong or when Francis needed to talk to him about something serious.

"What?" He nearly growled back. 

"You can't keep doing this to yourself." 

The silence between them was deafening. They both knew what Francis meant, but Francis didn't feel the need to elaborate, and Arthur didn't want to talk about this. 

"Are you going to fuck me or what?" Arthur changed the subject. "because if you aren't, you can go back to your room. I'll just call Gilbert or something. I don't need you." 

"Always so stubborn.." Francis sighed, gently tucking himself back into his pants. Though, he didn't move from the hotel bed. "Talk to me, Arthur." 

Arthur rolled over onto his side, continuing to frown at nothing. He just didn't want to look at Francis anymore. There was nothing to talk about. He slept around, and liked it rough. Apparently, that was "a bad thing." Like Francis was one to talk. He snorted. 

"About what?" 

"About- Arthur, what do you think? Do you know the things I hear about you from other nations?" Arthur flinched as Francis set a gentle hand on his hip. "Antonio told me-" 

Arthur shot up in the bed, scooting himself away from Francis. He tucked his knees in close to his chest, like he was trying to hold himself together, or make himself smaller. "Antonio is a liar, and a gossip! Why would you believe him?!" 

"He told me that he made you bleed, and-" 

"Shut up, Francis! You don't know what you're talking about, you weren't there, you don't..." Arthur's face was warming up in embarassment and anger. Yet, Francis continued to speak over him. 

"-and you asked for more." 

"France, shut up!" Arthur's voice careened into a yell. He didn't mean for it to, but the silence after it made Arthur flinch. He didn't even realize he'd used Francis' country name until he noticed the hurt look that the other nation was giving him. Guilt careened down on him. "I...I'm sorry.." he whispered, tucking his face down in his knees to once more, hide from the other. 

Arthur heard a heavy sigh, and felt the bed shift as Francis stood. He didn't speak. Didn't look up. Simply sat there. 

He wanted to cry. 

Then the bed shifted again and he felt Francis' warmth against him. At first, he stiffened against the sudden touch. But when the other wrapped his arm around his shoulders, Arthur felt himself sinking into his friend's warmth.

Then he cried. 

It started off with just a few sniffled, but before he knew it, he had basically pressed himself into Francis' chest, crying. Francis just quietly rubbed his back, whispering little words to him in French that he didn't bother trying to translate for himself. 

"Do you want to talk?" he finally asked when Arthur had mostly stopped crying, snug in Fracnis' hold. 

"No..." Arthur muttered, feeling like his head was filled up like a baloon. 

"You need to. Sometime. You're hurting yourself- and don't say that it's okay because you'll heal. Your emotions, lapin...

The Englishman sniffed, rubbing his face in the rose-scented shirt Francis had put back on. "I know." 

"You have been through hell, chérie. Let me take care of you." 

"Let me take care of you..." The words slipped from Arthur's mouth before he could stop himself, and he felt his cheeks warming up. Francis didn't respond for a moment. 

"What do you- oh..." 

Then Arthur's lips were on his neck. 

There was no reaction. Francis didn't pull away, or push him away. 

So Arthur simply continued, setting little kisses down Francis' neck and slowly moving down his body. He could feel how tense Francis was beneath him. Arthur knew he was doing something wrong. He knew this wasn't what Francis meant. 

Arthur was being selfish. 

But Francis was hard in his pants.

His pants came down with little to no resistance, and Arthur heard his partner's breath hitch as he gripped him through his underwear. 

"Arthur..." He heard him whisper. 

The Englishman hummed, sliding down the underwear to free Francis' hard-on. His mouth was watering. 

"Arthur," Francis repeated, and Arthur looked up to meet the other's eyes. 

His face was flushed, and his fist clenched uncertainly in the sheets. 

"Is that you telling me to stop?" Arthur asked, watching Francis carefully. 

"I...This feels wrong." 

"It isn't." 

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you, Arthur."

"You aren't." 


"Do you want me to stop?" 

Francis pressed his mouth into a thin line, looking up at the celing. 

"I need a yes or no."

Francis didn't say no. He didn't really say yes, either. But what he did do, is push his hips upwards so his cock touched Arthur's lower lip. And that's all Arthur needed to get to work. 

The member was both farmiliar and new in his mouth- the velvety skin welcome against his tongue. It felt like it had been a while. His partner tasted different than the last time. Slowly, Arthur began to bob his head, easing the cock deeper in each time. How he longed for Francis to grab his hair and fuck his mouth stupid, he knew that at this point, that wasn't going to happen.

When he began to suck, Francis finally let out a noise- however muffled it was. Arthur glanced up to see Francis covering his mouth with his hand. He was purposefully muffling himself. Arthur came off with a pop and slowly licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, until he came to the top rolled his tongue over the slit. Francis groaned, and when Arthur sucked on the sensitive head, Francis gasped. Loudly.

It was like playing some kind of game. 

Arthur leaned back on his haunches, looking at Francis. 

"Let me ride you."

Francis looked away, covering his face with his hands. 

"Now, Arthur, this has gone on far longer than I should have allo-" 

"Can I ride you? Please?" 

Francis groaned, his head falling back. "...Okay." 

Arthur grinned, pinching his tongue between his teeth as he moved, hovering over Francis. Slowly, he slid down, letting out a whine as Francis sank into him. This was something he'd felt tons of times before, but with Francis, it was always...different. His eyes eased closed, and didn't open until he felt Francis' hands settle onto his hips. 

He didn't make to move him though. Instead, as Arthur began to move, Francis seemed to help him move through the motions. Every bump into his prostate, every shallow gasp. Arthur whimpered, placing his hands flat on Francis' chest. 

"Oh my Lord.." he whispered, clutching at the other's shirt as every movement nudged him closer to orgasm. 

All of a sudden, Francis pushed upwards, closing Arthur into a steady kiss. Arthur whined, letting Francis take control upon thrusting into his body. Arthur pulled away and gasped, breath hot against Francis' cheek. 

Then Arthur was cumming. 

It didn't hit him hard, didn't have him screaming. It was a slow lul into the high, splattering onto Francis' shirt, then panting as he came down. 

The easiest orgasm he'd ever had.

He went limp in his partners arms, Francis still moving inside of him. 

Francis groaned when he came, pulling Arthur closer so his lips were intamte, close against his ear. 

"I love you," Francis muttered, shuddering through his orgasm. 

And for once, Arthur believed it.