#aph 2018

A FRUK Oneshot

Fluff and Romance. Sfw.

Francis felt Arthur's hand clasp to his as their arms swang lightly between them. The only sounds on the boardwalk were that of their shoes tapping along the bricks, and the crashing of the waves against the rocks under them. The lights of boats on the water shone brightly, almost as bright as the stars did overhead, which, Arthur noted, almost sparkled as much as Francis' Saphire eyes did when he caught a glimpse of them.

They walked for a while in a comfortable silence, stretching out and filling the gap between them, Francis with a soft smile on his face, Arthur with a look of casual content.

Francis took a deep breath in as they walked, and closed his eyes moment. Arthur looked over, his head only slightly turning as he looked out of the corner of his eye, to admire Francis' stubbly smile, and his curled locks cascading down his back and over his shoulders. His silhouette dimly lit against the dark ocean backdrop, had Arthur holding his breath.

In roughly the same moment Francis opened his eyes again, and almost immediately turned to his lover, catching only a glimpse of his eyes as he looked off to the distance. Francis smiled, let out a chuckle, and just like that the silence was broken. Pulling himself closer to Arthur, who's face was slowly turning more scarlet, Francis lowered his head onto Arthur's shoulder, "You blush far too easily."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur scoffed, holding back a smile.

Francis closed his eyes, all but hanging off of Arthurs arm, "Ah, that is your sunburn then."

Arthur scrunched up his face, "Oh sod off, I didn't get burnt." While actively looking away from the other.

Francis laughed, "Ah, you look as a crab." While raising his head and opening his eyes again, facing the crabby boyfriend of his.

"Oh shut up." The crabby boyfriend insisted, scarlet as ever.

"C'est Mignon." Francis laughed, "Though I did tell you to put on more sunblock.", And smirked, only to be groaned at as the comfortable silence fell back over them.

After looking around at the silhouettes of streetsigns, Francis faced out to the skyline again, unknowingly tugging Arthur a bit closer to the water, who couldn't stop staring at him. The boats and stars lit up the sky and sea in front of them, and Arthur once again found himself admiring every detail of Francis' silhouette.

After some time, Arthur felt himself abruptly stopped, as Francis gently tugged his arm toward the water. "Ah, Nous Voilà." And confused, he stumbled after Francis down a wooden staircase. "Francis it's much too dark for the ocean." He mumbled, hesitantly watching the water pull on and offshore.

"Don't worry, we're staying on land." Francis reassured Arthur, who's hands were already sweatier than before, "And I wouldn't let you drown anyway. Trust me."

Soon there were two trails of sandal and flip flop footprints down the sandy beach. Winding up and down the shoreline, dipping into the wetter sand, partially erased from the world, they led to where Francis had now unfolded and set a towel down for them both to sit on.

Arthur did so hesitantly, "Really darling it's quite late." He argued, as Francis rolled his eyes, responding, "Which means we get the cove to ourselves." As he sprawled out on the towel, "Lover's Cove, all to ourselves."

At the realisation Arthur raised his eyebrows, consciously rolling his eyes, "You bloody idiot..."

"The word you're looking for is romantic."

They stared eachother down for a minute as Arthur sat up next to Francis. A forced furrow of Arthur's eyebrows, and the beaming grin on Francis' face kept it comfortable.

"Lay with me." Francis suggested, as he looked up past Arthur to the stars.

And Arthur sighed, letting himself do so, while mumbling, "I won't enjoy myself though." As he let Francis wrap an arm around him, and mimicked the action.

Francis laughed, "Ah of course you won't. And I suppose you won't carry me back to the hotel in two hours either?"

"I most certainly will not." Arthur scoffed, turning his face toward Francis', squinting as he lay on his arm.

"Magnifique." Francis said, gazing into Arthur's Emerald Green eyes, insisting, "Then your eyes don't sparkling like stars." As Arthur looked down, with a small smile, "Well, Yours don't either." As he snuggled closer.

"How Rude you are." Francis all but whispered, with a smile on his lips.

"Very." Arthur stated, voicing his smile in the darkness.

They lay for a while in comfortable silence.

The lights of boats on the water shone brightly, almost as bright as the stars did overhead, which, Francis noted, almost sparkled as much as Arthur's Emerald eyes did when he caught a glimpse of them.

The only sounds were that of their steady breaths, and the tide washing on and offshore near them.

American Revolution oneshot. Staring Alfred & Francis, with a sense of brotherhood.

Complicated Emotions. SFW.

Tonight was a night of celebration, finally having shown his cause was legitimate and worthy, America had gathered the support he needed from Spain and France.

Tonight was a night of celebration, finally Alfred was going to have his first drink with Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert.

The first round, Gilbert bought, Strong Ales, to show how proud he was that Alfred actually learned from his training.

The second round Antonio bought, rum, with a toast to kicking Arthur's Ass, as he had one as flat as the world they once believed they lived on, that they agreed had a magnetic draw to feet.

The third round, Francis bought, a fine wine, as he told Alfred about how he deserved finer things in life. The wine being the first, His independence being the next.

They laughed, they sang and they reveled in their comradery, as they let themselves relax and enjoy themselves. It was a night of celebration after all.

Alfred hadn't before felt so much appreciation, and he wasn't sure if it was the burning feeling the alcohol had inside of him, or the arms slung around his shoulders, and hands grasping his arms that did it, but both were something he knew he'd never forget. He proved himself to be able to hold his liquor better than Arthur ever could, and every compliment the older men gave him on his strength that night made his heart swell up with pride.

They hadn't quite gotten through the fourth round when Gilbert showed his age and started to doze off. Then he passed out completely. Francis kissed Antonio's cheek, and in a sweet voice, asked him to get Gilbert back safely. Antonio kissed Francis' forehead, and carried Gilbert off.

So then there were the two of them, on their sixth round of drinks. Red wine in hand, and red blush on their faces, their smiles glowed, but they didn't speak for a while. They sat and Alfred looked into his swirling glass, his thoughts drifting through it as if it were an open sea. His smile softened, as he kept the calm but prideful feeling from before and he locked it away onside of him, every recent memory from the night. Every Smile. Every Laugh. Every Joke... Because it was real.

But for a moment everything almost felt too real. As much as he knew he wanted this, and he had worked for it to begin, he also had the reality that somebody so close to him had pushed him this far. That Arthur really was going to fight him, as a Country, as America.

Eventually, after what may have been centuries to a drunk young man, he looked up, at the eyes he could feel were looking all but into his thoughts. The darker blue eyes, older, with a soft sadness to them that he could recognise the same way they recognized his. Sure Francis had a smile as well, but they were two of a kind in a way, and it wasn't until that moment that Alfred had realised it. Both sets of blue stared back, to see another man who, while being either younger, or older, tried to hide something he couldn't behind his smile. Francis' deep ocean blue eyes looked into Alfreds soft sky blue eyes, and with a bright smile, suggested they catch up to Toño and Gil.

Alfred agreed.

A few weeks later Francis and Alfred found themselves alone together again. In the night, when mens thoughts consumed them the easiest, they sat together in the cold air.

Sitting cross legged next to him Alfred looked over, and Francis stared into the fire, with thoughtful eyes and said, "You're really an amazing young man."

Alfred squinted his eyebrows in confusion and replied, "Thanks, you're not bad yourself."

Francis shrugged, "Hmm, perhaps...", and felt Alfred stare at him with a questioning look.

"I believe I have a confession to make to you, mon ami."

"Oh uh, fire away." Alfred laughed.

Francis continued not to make eye contact as he closed his eyelids, still facing the fire, "I didn't truly come here to help with your independence."

Alfred blinked, "Pardon-moi, but, the Fuck is that supposed to mean, Sir?"

"Well, my help is supposed to come with strings, to say his Majesty expects we are fighting not so you will not be a colony anymore but so that you won't be an English Colony."

A confused Alfred held his breathe, "So you just want to own me? Francis, why the hell would you-"

"Because Francis doesn't want to." Francis interupted him, finally looking back into to his eyes, "... When I first started to help I'll admit I felt it would be best, and there are worse outcomes. But I know your allies, and I am afraid Spain could have similar intent... Even if Antonio doesn't."

There was a pause.

"... So you want me to be aware that nobody sees me as an equal?" Alfred snapped with a sour look, as he crossed his arms, looking into the fire.

They were both quite for a moment as Francis looked at Alfred.

"Non. You are an Amazing young man, and as much as I have been told it will be in my best interest as France to try to conquer another colony, it seems my heart has betrayed me. I'd prefer to have you as an Ally, As A friend." And he looked back to the fire, sighing, "As Francis, I want us to make sure everybody sees you as more than an equal."

Alfred looked back and stared at Francis' silhouette for a moment, before turning to the fire as well.

After a long silence, the sounds of Gilbert and Antonio arguing came from a nearby tent, and the younger boy leaned his head on the older man's shoulder, "... We better kick Britain's Ass then."

Berwald is waiting for his heart to beat and so is Tino but one is in Sweden and the other is in Finland.  How can they meet? 

When Magnus and Berwald entered that cave, they could never know that they were about entered the adventure of their lifetime! 

Short, and sometimes a little bit longer, stories from Finland's and Sweden's past to this day. Through the best and worst of what is to come. 

Berwald Oxenstierna forgot everything when his soulmate was taken away. In this world, soulmates see each others faces in the clouds. He still sees his, but knows nothing about him-except that his name is Tino. When Tino comes back one night, everyone thinks things are going to be all right. But, they aren't, of course.