#fruknewyears2016

Title: Pique (on AO3) Pairings/Characters: France/England Rating: Teen Summary: England and France go pike-fishing in the English countryside, one a great deal more reluctantly than the other.

Pairings: FrUK, background GerIta Characters: France, England, America, Canada, appearances by Germany, North Italy, and briefly Prussia and the Tulip siblings Rating: T Time Period: Modern, with flashbacks to WWI and (briefly) WWII Possible triggers: Discussion of war

Summary: France and England get trapped in an elevator, which leads (predictably) to a fight and (less predictably) to a trip down memory lane.

Arthur Kirkland was having a no-good, very bad, absolutely shite day. Actually, Arthur Kirkland was having a no-good, very bad, absolutely shite week. World meetings were pointless in general, but to Arthur the inanity seemed to have skyrocketed over the last meeting. Stupid plans, antagonistic jabs, and pettiness ran rampant. Most nations simply played on their phones or doodled, at least until Germany noticed and started yelling. The whole series of events only made Arthur's ever-present headache scream louder. Surprise paperwork from his stupid government had only been the topper on his crappy week. He'd been in such a poor mood for the last few days of the conference that even his brothers had steered clear around him. Spain had flinched away mid-taunt, and his former colonies had all walked on eggshells around him. Alfred had ducked into a closet just to avoid crossing paths with Arthur in the hallway.

Arthur would feel smug, if his stupid, uncooperative heart hadn't insisted on feeling lonely instead. How idiotic. If anything, he should be overjoyed his glare still held the power to silence a room! They said no man could be an island, but Arthur Kirkland very much was. And he was damned proud of it, too.

He'd never really had any other option, but that was neither here nor there.

Pairings: Fem!FrUK, slight Spamano and past Fem!Eng/Spain Characters: Fem!England, Fem!France, Prussia, Spain, America, Canada, mentions of Hungary Time Period: Modern Hogwarts AU Warnings: None

Summary: Christmas at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a time of mixed blessings. On the one hand, many of the students went home, but on the other, the ones who remained were usually troublemakers. Elaine Kirkland, proud Slytherin graduate and current professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, was beginning to seriously regret offering to stay over hols as a chaperon, even if it did mean avoiding Christmas with her siblings.

This is a gift for the New Year’s FrUK Exchange for @blazenight-it

If sorry it took so long, but I hope you like it!

I chose your wish for Francis and Arthur cuddling by a fire.

oOo

It is a strange and common occurrence in this world that what you want to happen least, is in fact the first to happen.

Rather these occurrences are for the better or not, is open for interpretation.

Arthur Kirkland cursed these occurrences and every god in existence as he wrapped his coat around him and stomped out of the cooling, dark house.

The last thing he wanted to happen was for the power to go out for Christmas, and as luck would have it, that is exactly what happened.

Arthur shivered in the cold weather, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked around to the side of the house to the breaker box.

With the same amount of horrible luck, he was unable to get the power back on.

The now agitated Brit huffed as he walked back inside the now relatively cool house, brushing the snow from his hair and hanging his coat up.

“Arthur? Did you have any luck with the power?”

The silky, accent flavoured words poured from the next room over as Arthur walked towards it.

“No.” Arthur simply replied grumpily as he walked into the room and settled down on the couch, leaning slightly against his lover.

Francis sighed and wrapped an arm around Arthur, burying his face into Arthur’s hair.

“Don’t be grumpy, Arthur. We can still have Christmas without power.” Francis mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“It’s not Christmas yet, Christmas is tomorrow.” Arthur grumbled.

I light, feathery laugh elicited from Francis’s mouth. “You know what I mean, mon lapin.”

Arthur muttered something under his breath and drew his knees up to his chest, a light shiver coursing through him.

“It seems to be getting cold, Arthur.” Francis remarked, pulling his boyfriend farther into his side. “Would you like me to start the fire to warm the house up?”

Arthur nodded, his face pressed into Francis’s neck.

Francis gently separated himself from Arthur and shivered from the loss of body heat as he padded towards the fireplace. With some effort, he set a fire and settled back onto the couch.

Arthur immediately returned to his side, throwing a leg over his lap and pressing his face to his chest.

Francis chuckled as ran a hand through Arthur’s hair, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re quite affectionate right now.”

“It’s cold…” Arthur muttered quietly.

Francis reached over and grabbed a heavy blanket from where it was hanging over the back of the couch. He brought Arthur closer to him and settled them so that Arthur was leaving heavily against Francis, who was near laying down. Francis settled the blanket over the both of them as the fire worked to warm up the house.

Arthur clutched Francis’s nightshirt with his fists, as he cuddled close to him. He whimpered slightly from the cold before settling down as he warmed up slightly.

“Are you getting warmer, love?” Francis whispered to him.

Arthur made a small sound and nodded.

“I love you.”

Arthur didn’t reply, but Francis knew he felt the same.

In the grand scheme of things, their relationship was a beautiful miracle. Silence truly spoke louder than words, with such a meaningful seriousness to it that delved deep into their souls and seated itself in their hearts. It was the true, raw intimacy thriving between them that kept them so closely bonded. It was much more than any ring or term could described. Nothing could accurately portray the love between the two. Even at the worst times in their relationship, they still loved each other to such a degree it hurt, and at the best they were filled with such an overwhelming feeling of love and joy they practically overflowed.

“Can we move closer to the fire…?” The soft spoken question passed Arthur’s lips as he looked up at Francis.

Francis smiled down at him and scooped him up in his arms. He was careful to keep Arthur rolled up in the blanket so that he did not become too cold.

The Frenchman settled his lover down on the large fluffy rug closer to the fire and quickly cuddled under the blanket with him.

I small sigh escaped escaped Arthur’s lips and his eyes fluttered shut at both the warmth and the comforting presence of Francis.

Arthur moved his hands up the Francis’s hair and started to idly play with it, creating small braids and then brushing them out with his fingers, enjoying how soft and smooth his hair was.

Francis smiled at his mate, seeing everything beautiful and pure in his green eyes flickering in the fire.

“You’re beautiful. I can’t say it enough, but you are truly beautiful.” The lovely words were said, soft and gentle sounding from Francis’s accent.

Arthur’s cheeks tinted with a light pink at the words and he clutched onto Francis’s arm as he searched for a proper reply.

“Not as much as you…” he said softly, keeping his eyes trained on Francis’s chest, not meeting his eyes. Francis simply smiled and took Arthur’s chin with his hand, tilting his face up.

“You are perfect.” Francis laid a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips.

Arthur reached up to grab Francis’s shoulder, his head tilted up to accept the kiss. The kiss was passionate, but chaste, full of intimacy and love. Everything that made the two of them beautiful.

The couple had shared many kisses in the past. Their timid, unsure first kiss full of new emotions and new beginnings. Their romantic kisses full of promise and soft emotions on their dates. The careful and scared kisses of their first night together and the passionate, heated kisses of the following nights. Sleepy, sweet kisses of the morning. Longing, drowned kisses when they had been separated. Angry, racy kisses of their fights, and kisses such as this one. These kisses were beyond a simple touch of lips, they were a bonding of souls, a creation of beautiful music, something only the two of them could experience.

Arthur slowly pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips as he looked into Francis’s eyes.

Arthur chewed on his bottom lip for a new moments before speaking.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

“How could I forget, my love?”

Francis smiled at his lover as he remembered the day.

“You were so cute and I barely spoke any English. We met in a coffee shop, of all things cliché.” Francis chuckled as he said the words. “I was so nervous to talk to you.”

“It was raining that day.” Arthur picked up the story with a soft smile. “I had forgotten my umbrella and I was soaking wet. God, you were attractive, I could barely talk without stuttering.”

The two shared a laugh.

“I remember the first words you spoke to me.” Francis said smirking.

Arthur giggled. “You just looked at me and I said ‘No.’.” Arthur remembered.

“It’s a wonder we ever got together, mon lapin.”

“I almost died when you asked me on a date. “ Arthur remarked.

“Yes! You choked on your lunch and tried to choke me before you agreed!” Francis recalled the moment in vivid detail.

“I’m happy I agreed. You make me so happy, Francis.”

“I love you, Arthur. I am so glad that I have you. Words can not describe what you mean to me, I love you with such intensity what not even the best poets or the most talented artists could capture.”

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he attacked Francis’s lips in a kiss once again.

This kiss was new. It burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, fueled pure emotion and raw love. Francis found himself wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to have found Arthur. To have found his love, someone who completed him in every way possible.

Arthur wondered a similar thought.

Pulling away, Arthur smiled at Francis, resting his head against his broad chest.

“I remember our first kiss.” Francis spoke.

“You could never quite believe it happened. You’re eyes were beautiful in the moonlight.”

Arthur blushed at the words.

“When I was little I never quite understood what love was.” The Brit spoke quietly.

“Do you understand now, my love?”

“Yes.”

They both closed their eyes and huddled close under the thick blanket, limbs tangled together and bodies warming up. The fire made soft, comforting crackling sounds contrasting against the blunt sounds of snow and the faint sounds of the city. The tree stood in the corner, unlit, but still twinkling with angelic light.

The warm breaths of the two lovers mingled and they smiled softly.

Francis trailed his arm down Arthur’s body, wrapping it around his waist as the ran his other hand through the Brit’s hair.

Arthur pressed a light kiss to his boyfriend’s jawline, peppering them down his neck.

“I don’t say it nearly as often as you deserve, but I do love you.” Arthur spoke with soft words. “You could have much better, deserve much better, than me, but you still stay and I thank you for that because I don’t know what I would do, or where I would be without you.”

Francis teared up slightly at the words. “I love you, Arthur. You are all that I could ever want and more. I love you.” Francis stated firmly, bringing a hand up to cup Arthur’s face. A short, chaste kiss was placed to his lips, but it was full of choking emotion.

Arthur laughed lowly, and pulled himself from the floor, settling himself into Francis’s lap. He rested his head against the Frenchman’s shoulder and they both swayed to an imaginary song.

“I’d quite like to get married one day.”

The words left Arthur’s mouth before he could stop them.

“As would I, my love.”

“We’d have a grand wedding. We could invite my brothers and have your mother there. She would love to see you get married.”

Francis laughed, “I imagine she would. Mother is quite fond of you.”

“We would get married in Paris, in that nice little chapel with the white bricks we visited last summer. It had the prettiest rose gardens.”

“You would like to get married in Paris? I’m surprised.” Francis teased.

“Paris is nice sometimes.”

“We would write our own vows and wear the finest clothing. We could decorate the chapel in beautiful flowers, and promise ourselves to each other under that beautiful arch in the back garden.” Francis mused, smiling.

“We’d have to serve food and alcohol if my brothers are attending. You know they, especially Alistair, love food and beer.”

Francis chuckles. “Yes, I am aware.”

“We could honeymoon in the Seychelles. I hear it’s beautiful in the summer.” Francis says.

“The Seychelles sounds nice. A good bit of sun could do me nice. What would we do after the marriage?”

Francis remained silent for a few moments before answering. “I would like children. Not right away of course, but eventually.”

Arthur sighed, “Children would be nice, but I just don’t think I’m suited for them…”

“Of course you are love, you would be a wonderful father, and I a wonderful papa.”

“Really…? I’m not exactly the nicest person.”

“You are perfect.”

Arthur chuckled and placed a kiss on Francis’s cheek. “OK, maybe kids. Maybe.”

Francis smiled in victory.

Arthur yawned softly, nuzzling his head into the warm person he was sitting on.

Francis wrapped his arms around him. “Are you sleepy, my love?”

Arthur nodded and sighed. The both of them laid back down, making sure to cover themselves with a blanket.

Francis smiled to himself as the thought back over the wedding conversation. Arthur would get all of that and more very soon. Just underneath the angelic Christmas tree lay a small box with a diamond studded ring. Francis yearned to see the delighted face of his lover when he asked him to be his.

Arthur’s breaths evened out as he fell asleep, curled into Francis’s side, fitting perfectly.

“Merry Christmas.”