England's France (Hetalia)

Part 2

Between France in his drunkenness, the fairies in their excitement, and England in the heat of the moment, all of them had overlooked a very important issue last night. The issue being that England had two ex-colonies that loved to visit, and in America's case, often at odd hours without any notice. This oversight proved to cost England dearly when America caught Canada and dragged him over to England's place early in the morning to make pancakes so they could have breakfast together.

If America had came an hour later, or had called ahead, or had not chosen to sneak in with the idea of scaring England, the situation could have been avoided. But America thought it would be funny to make England jump, so he walked sneakily. Canada made no effort to sneak, but due to his lack of presence and general quietness, he may as well have been. So it was when America and Canada entered the livingroom the found their unconscious ex-guardian with his head in France's lap, which was clothed only in a pair of England's boxers, which was obvious by the union jack pattern.

There was a beat of silence as both boys took in the sight with wide eyes. Then America took a step back and Canada reacted a moment too late. "What the fuck?" Canada slipped his cool hand over America's mouth, but it was too late, and England startled awake, sitting bolt upright, the sudden movement waking France as well. "America?" He blinked sleepily, not quite remembering the situation he was in. "What...?" He started to ask, but stopped when the couch next to him shifted with a yawn.

America was turning an interesting mix of red and purple, a direct contrast to his pale face a moment before. Canada too was blushing slightly. "Fr-France, you pervert!" America stuttered awkwardly for the first time in his life. "What did you do to England?" England too, turned bright red, jumping to his feet and distancing himself as far away from France as the room would allow. "It's not what you think!" England spluttered, waving his hands in an attempt to wave away any incorrect notions. "This stupid frog got drunk and passed out on my couch and then I was so tired from dealing with him I fell asleep too!"

England's flustered denial only made his ex-colonies more suspicious. "He's wearing your underwear!" America argued, wide eyed. "I made him put them on so he wouldn't be going around naked!" England responded, only realizing how bad the words sounded after they came out of his mouth. "No, wait-" He tried to rephrase, flustered, and Canada flashed him a shy look from under his lashes. "Um, England," He began shyly, not meeting his eyes, face flushed. "Did Papa take advantage of you?" His insistance on calling France "Papa" instead of "big brother" only made it sound that much worse.

America gasped theatrically and covered Canada's ears as though to sheild him as he stage-whispered "Did you two...do it?" "No!" England snapped back, grittting his teeth. Canada batted America's hands away, whining that he wasn't a child and knew more about sex than America did, which personally, England blamed on France. England whipped around to France demandingly, expecting his assistance. "Tell them that's not what happened!" He hissed. His confidence dropped as he saw the shit-eating grin on France's face, and he remembered the french nation's penchant for teasing him with a sinking heart.

"Don't you dare..." He warned, and France threw himself into England's arms, draping his arms over England's back as though they were about to start slow dancing. "Ah, Angleterre, don't be so cold. You were so warm while we slept last night~" He crooned and England's skin crawled like ants were underbeath the surface. He was saved by a well aimed punch from America, knocking France from England's arms into Canada's, who was waiting and ready." Don't be a creep!" America demanded, now more confident. "England doesn't like that!"

His stance was more casual for some reason, as though France's act had ironically had the opposite effect, and convinced him that nothing had happened. Canada held France back, scolding in a gentle tone "Papa, don't tease England like that! You'll make him upset." France chuckled. "Ahh, you caught me. It can't be helped, when I see him I want to tease him." "You bloody wanker!" England hissed enraged, looking rather like he would like to strangle France, which was exactly how he was feeling. Canada sighed, giving America a meaningful look, before hauling France into the kitchen with him. "Come, papa, we are going to make some crêpes." He ordered, and France was happy to follow along.

America wrapped his arms protectively around England and glared at France's receding back. "You're lucky I arrived when I did!" America announced to England. "I pretty much saved you. Who knows what he would have done!" England highly doubted that France would ever actually do anything if that kind to him, but then again, it was France. America seemed to like his idea and repeated again, "I saved you." He puffed out his chest. "Because I'm the hero!" England sighed and reached up and patred America's hand. "Yes, yes, you're the hero. Now get off me."

As he passed the kitchen on his way back to the bathroom, he muttered crankily at France "How can you not have a hangover after drinking that much?" France heard the grumbled question and winked at Enland. "Fairy kisses." He purred, and England cursed. "Damn those fairies! Why do they like you so much?" France's smirk only grew, but he didn't tell England the reason why the faires liked him so much, even though he knew.

The reason, of course, dated back to when France had first decided to take England under his wing, when the fairies first revealed themselves to him. England at the time had been nothing more than a bruised bundled of tears, insults and bushy eyebrows. It had taken a long time for him to wamr up to France, but eventually he had. It was one day, when the child tired hismelf out crying on France's lap, that France had decided to take care of him. "If the boy needed, family, France would be his family. If England needed a friend, France would be his friend, and if England needed an enemy, something to fight against, a reason to go on, France would become that too.

As soon as he made the decision he saw the fairies for the first time. They clustered around England, patting at his wounds and healing him. One in particular spoke to France. That was the first and the last time he heard and understood the fairies' speech. "We were waiting for you." The fairy had said, in a twinkling voice that didnt form words, but France still understood. "For me?" France asked. The fairies had nodded, fluttering to land around him, all attention turned to him. They had explained that they had been watching over England for generations.

Fairies have short lifespans, they had explained, and they had been waiting for the day when one of England's own kind would appear, someone who would love and care for him as he grew, to support him where the fairies couldn't. "But I'm just France." He had argued, confused. He wasn't as large as other countries, as smart or as strong, he fought with England just as much as anyone else. The faires has laughed like glasses clinking. "You're England's France." They had dubbed him. "You love him. That's enough."

But this was a story for only France to know, and he kept his mouth shut as England stalked off to the shower, winking at the glowing form of a fairy behind England. By the time breakfast was ready, the scandal had already been long forgotten, France and Canada chatting happily together over pancakes and crepes, America eagerly frying a stack of bacon, all going on the defensive when England offered to help cook.

Canada's clever eyes caught the thin bracelet of golden strands tied around England's wrist, a familiar colour of France's own hair, but he chose to keep it quiet from America, later conveying the story to Australia over phone, soon to spread to Hong-Kong as well. England himself didn't notice till after breakfast, when a parcel arrived from Germany. He noticed a golden flash on his wrist as he accepted the parcel, and immediately tore it from his wrist, tossing it into the trash with a curse when he realized what it was. The bracelet later reappeared under his pillow that night.

The parcel, opened with confusion at the kitchen table, contained only a single pair of pants and a note signed by Prussia and Spain with a winking face.

"Thought you might need these. "