Seven Minutes in Hetalia Heaven

France's Rose

The tiny thorns that weaved themselves along the delicate flower's stem tug on the rough skin of your palm, creating many tiny wounds that started drawing blood.

"A rose," You say as you watch the droplets of blood slowly trickle from the small cuts. Alfred doesn't take it from you like you thought he would, rather, he eyes your now bloody had warily.

"Ma chérie," [1] A familiar voice coos from behind you, the French accent sending shivers down your spine. Two hands slide down over the slope of your shoulders and wrap you in an embrace from behind causing you to go completely rigid. Some of his blonde curls tumble over your shoulder and the soft scents of lavender and vanilla waft from him.

"Wait until your actually in the closet before you start molesting her, kay?" Alfred said, his nose wrinkled in disgust. Molest? Good god. Your cheeks flushed crimson.

"D'accord, I can wait,"[2] Francis said disappointedly, squeezing his arms around you as he did so. "On y va, ______,"[3] He murmured as he grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you towards the closet door. If it weren't for the constant thu-thump of your heart you would have thought you were dead. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought this would happen, and now that it had, you were frozen.

You dry swallowed, nervous about what would happen once the door was shut. You would be all alone with the lustiest man you knew and seven long minutes to do whatever you pleased.

It seemed like an eternity before the door was shut, leaving you and the dashing Frenchman in the dark. Despite the tsundere persona you put on when you were around him, your true feelings were that of air-headed teenage girl. Your heart beat picked up speed, thudding against your chest so hard you thought it was going to pop out onto the carpeted floor.

"_______," Francis whispered seductively, squeezing your hand reassuringly. It wasn't until he was about three inches from that you could see him and even then it was only the tiny glint in his lidded, blue eyes. His free hand reached down and grabbed yours, the one with thorn cuts on it. Your breath hitched as he brought your palm up to his mouth and kissed it, soothing the tiny, bloody cuts. He put your hand down and sighed. "I hope you're not afraid of me, especially after what that fils de pute Alfred said,"[4] He said angrily, with a shudder. "I would never dream of doing anything like that to you... not unless you wanted me to," He whispered with a coy smile. It took you a moment to catch your breath.

"Francis, it's okay I..." You trailed off, trying to find the right way to say it without putting the man off. You hoped that he at least had the capacity to love, not just lust. As you continued to stammer quietly, fumbling over your words, he cut you off.

"Je t'aime, ______," [5] He said coolly. The words brought on another massive flush, and you were suddenly thankful for the darkness. You spent enough time with him to know those words, although they felt foreign being directed at you.

"You took the words right from my mouth," You said breathlessly, revelling in the feeling of his arms around you. You could barely see the smile pulled across his lips before the small gap distancing you two from one another was closed. His lips were soft and feather-light against yours, not rough and hard like you had previously thought. They moved in synch with yours like a sort of dance, slow and thoughtful.

The hand that was on your neck slid down until it rested against the small of your back. He slipped his cool hand up underneath your shirt making you squirm and giggle as your body was wracked with delightful shivers. You unconsciously thread your hand into his hair, feeling the soft curls as they slid in between your fingers, then tugged lightly. Francis moaned and bit down on your upper lip in retaliation, making you gasp in pain. With more vigour, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, feeling around gently, claiming his new territory.

He pulled back for an instant so he could turn his attention to your necking, sucking the skin and bruising it lightly. You threw your head back, pressing your body closer against his, giving yourself to him.

"Fr-ancis!" You whined as his teeth nipped at your collar bone. You felt him smile against your skin and chuckle before he unzipped your sweater and shrugged it off of your shoulders, then your shirt along with it. Both discarded on the floor, he started to fiddle with the back of your bra. You breathed raggedly, trying to fill your lungs, but Francis just covered your mouth with his.

The door opened sending you into a nervous frenzy, suddenly aware that you were half naked. Francis, still struggling with your bra, pried his lips from yours restlessly and shot a glare towards the intruder.

Alfred stood in the doorway, hand over his mouth, eyebrows pulled together in consternation.

"That's gross," He choked, then proceeded to make hacking noises as he shut the door, leaving you two alone again. You laughed.

"You know, we could just stay here because I doubt Alfred will be bothering us any time soon," You suggested. Francis smirked and made a noise of undisguised approval.

"You know me too well, _______. I was about to tell you the same thing."

"Je t'aime, Francis," You murmured into his shoulder.

"Vous n'avez aucune idée..." [6] He replied before he took your chin in his hand and kissed you again.

~

Requested by and dedicated to:
@Franceypants101
____amii____

[1] - "Ma chérie," = "My darling,"

[2] - "D'accord," = "Okay,"

[3] - "On y va," = "Here we go,"

[4] - "Fils de pute," = "Son of a bitch,"

[5] - "Je t'aime," = "I love you,"

[6] -"Vous n'avez aucune idée..." = "You have no idea..."