Hetalia Oneshots

Bandages

Rating: Gen
Word count: 711
Relationships: England/France

Summary:

"Fuck off." He rasped.

"Eloquent as always, mon cher."

England rolled over to glare at France, gnawing at his tongue to stop any sounds of pain from escaping his mouth. The intensity behind the scowl was diminished by his tear-stained cheeks and the ball shape he was still in. Behind tear-blurred eyes he could see how stunning the frog looked, not that he'd ever admit it. Despite his mud stained hair and the bandages covering his body, there was an odd charm to him.

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His breath was weak and stunted and came out in small pants as he staggered through the camp towards his tent. The constraint around his chest was excruciating and it was becoming a strenuous effort to stand up without aid. Around him, he could see his men taking note of him with concern but when someone was to come forward he would shoo them away. It's not as if they would be able to understand, and even if they did they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Once he reached his tent, he quickly unhooked the clasps that held it shut. He looked back at the door and considered sealing it but his body was protesting at the idea. So instead he allowed himself to collapse onto the stretcher engulfed in blankets and pillows. He brought his knees up, so that he was curled up into a small ball. Only then did he allow himself to whimper in pain as he slowly prodded at his ribs. He could hear his ribs 'popping' and hissed through clenched teeth. They were definitely broken. Oh, and how bruised his chest would be.

He then heard the steps of a well-known... friend?

"Fuck off." He rasped.

"Eloquent as always, mon cher."

England rolled over to glare at France, gnawing at his tongue to stop any sounds of pain from escaping his mouth. The intensity behind the scowl was diminished by his tear-stained cheeks and the ball shape he was still in. Behind tear-blurred eyes he could see how stunning the frog looked, not that he'd ever admit it. Despite his mud stained hair and the bandages covering his body, there was an odd charm to him.

"What are you doing here frog?" England complained.

"I heard from a small birdie that a certain general was in severe pain and was refusing help."

France then settled himself beside his head and planted a kiss onto it. His hands then made their way under England's arms to pull him up into a sitting position ignoring England's hisses of pain. Astonished by the weight of the younger man, he gave him a critical glance. France then began to unbutton the military jacket with practiced ease.

England tried in vain to slap his hands away. "Pervert."

"Oui, oui." He muttered as he continued to expose the man's chest.

Once the tie had been slipped off and the olive button up shirt had been taken care of, France could then see the bandages and cloth that were tightly wound around his chest. France looked up at England and gave him a disapproving frown. He turned back to unwinding the cloth, to reveal his chest was painted with colourful bruises.

"Arthur."

"Mmm?"

"How many times have I talked to you about binding with bandages?" Francis traced over his chest pressing down against his ribs, watching him squirm and grunt in pain.

"I know," England whined. "But they'll all see me as a wom— women otherwise."

His voice fell, and France heard him choke back a few sobs. He gave him a sympathetic glance before pulling the heavy duty jacket back over his shoulders. A few buttons were up to maintain some privacy in case anyone wandered past the tent. France then pulled him onto his lap, held him close. This was like when they were children, after his brothers would beat him up and France would hold him for hours while he cried. He began to comb England's matted hair, taking out a couple knots. England leaned into the touch and let out a content sigh.

"I'll tell your men that you're injured and unable to-"

"What? Why?"

"Mon lapin, you've broken your ribs. I don't want to see you out of this bed for the next week."

"What if I need to piss?"

"I will assist you."

"That's disgusting."

"You can barely walk lapin."

England groaned his complaint, "Why am I like this?"

Francis hummed a questioning note.

"Why do I have a- a," England's voice cracked and he buried his head into France's shoulder. "A woman's body?"

"I'm sorry mon amour, I don't know."

England held onto him tightly, murmuring softly into his neck.

"What was that?"

"I love you."

Francis smiled widely. "Je vous aime aussi."

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England is trans because I am and I said so.

Quick Binder Safety:
Also don't bind with ace bandages, because bandages are made to tighten when you move making them incredibly easy to break your ribs. If you have a binder their shouldn't be hooks or anything similar and buy them from a reliable company like gc2b or underworks. If you are in the closet or can't afford a binder you can always wear two crop tops with once forwards and one backwards.

:)