Save Me.

France And Issues. (Part one.)

~Arthur~

Someone tipped the old frog off that we were going to visit his country. From that we got a free hotel room and a tour by non other than France himself.

He met us at the hotel, a big smug smile covering his face, "ah~ I knew it was just a matter of time before you two got together."

He had a bellhop take our stuff, before placing a hand on America's shoulder and whispering something very close to his ear. I clenched my jaw, but didn't do anything. France just grinned and glanced at me.

For a good portion of the day he showed us around and kept his hands off of America. Then came dinner.

We were all seated at a booth. Me, America, then France. Everyone was eating, with few words floating around. France, of course, was a little tipsy and I had had a beer or two.

I was going to grab my wallet from my pocket, when I just so happened to glance at America's thighs. France was sliding his hand from his own leg onto America's. I clenched my jaw, making a fist. France moved his hand over halfway up America's thigh and squeezed his leg. America choked lightly and coughed at the feeling, shifting uncomfortably. That didn't stop France.

In complete anger I jumped up, "FROGGETYOURDISGUSTINGPERVERTEDHANDOFFOFMYBOYFRIEND!!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Frances hand immediately moved and his calm gaze shifted to me.

"Why, is he not enjoying it?" His voice remained calm.

"No he is not!" I all but screamed, resting one knee on the booth seat and leaning across America to grab France by the front of his shirt. America placed his hand on my chest.

"Dude, it's alright. There was no harm done, just calm down." How could he be so calm about this!?

"See, he does not mind." France said with a little laugh. Very slowly I released his shirt and sank back into my seat.

After that incident France thought it would be fun to take us to a club. We found a table away from the pounding music and intoxicated people. I sat next to America glaring at France, who was on the dance floor.

"I'll go get drinks." America half yelled. I watched him get up and begin worming his way through the people; only to be caught by France, who tried to dance, very inappropriately with him. I was up and halfway to them when it happened. France unbuttoned America's shorts and stuck his hand down the front of his black booty shorts. (A/N America has been wearing booty shorts since he asked Britain out.)

My whole world froze, I watched America's eyes widen as he tried to push France away. It didn't work. More angry than I've ever been in my entire existence I ran foreward, ripping France away from him. In an instant I had America back at the table and was zipping and buttoning his pants back up. He just sat there in shock. When I had fixed his pants, I pulled him by the hand across the club, into the street.

Outside the club, on the sidewalk, I pulled him into a hug. After getting over the shock he wrapped his arms around me. For who knows how long, we stood there.

Hand in hand we walked back to the hotel.

~Alfred~

Our room consisted of a queen sized bed, connected bathroom, bedside stand with a lamp, tv, closet, and a window overlooking the busy streets.

I still feel pretty shaken up about what happened and just wanted to go relax.

"I think I'm going to take a bath." I mumble walking to the bathroom. Iggy glances at me, giving a slight nod from where he sits on the bed. In the bathroom I quickly remove my clothes, drawing a bath with plenty of bubbles. Sighing with relief, I step in.

"Hey Iggy!" I call after a few minutes, "can you come here?"

There are footsteps and the door cracks open, "are you decent?" He asks, staying out.

I look down at the bubbles covering my ribs down, "yeah...." I tell him.

He walks in and looks at me, gaining that cute blush I love so much. Quickly he averts his eyes, staring at the tiled floor.

"Can you wash my hair?" I ask, blinking innocently.

He sighs gently and walks out, returning with a stool from who knows where. He puts the stool at the end of the tub, sitting on it. He rolls up his sleeves, pouring shampoo on his hands. Humming quietly he begins massaging my scalp with it. I sigh in content, closing my eyes.

When I open them again, he's finished washing my hair. I glance up at him, since he has fallen silent. His gaze has focused on the cuts covering my arms. I reach up and take his hand, his eyes flick to mine.

"Thank you." I tell him. He sucks in a deep breath and stands, turning the other way.

"No problem."

I shift in the water, latching onto his waist and pulling him back. He stumbles and falls on top of me with a splash, "ah!"

I wrap my arms around him, his back against my chest and body between my legs.

"America!" He yells, failing at his struggle to stand. I bury my face into his soaked shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"My clothes are all wet!"

"So take them off."

"I'm not going to take them off!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're here!"

"So~."

He splutters, not forming coherent words.

"I bet you'd look great naked." I whisper in his ear. I can't see it, but I know his face is completely red. I laugh and let go of him. He quickly stands and steps out, grabbing a towel. Behind him I also stand, draining the water. He turns around, mid sentence, and freezes covering his eyes.

"America, get a towel!" I laugh and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around him. He lets out a squeak and stiffens.

I give him a big kiss on the top of his head and let go. He blindly throws me a towel, all but running out. I chuckle and change into my pajama's, rewrapping my arms. When finished I head into the bedroom. Britain is in his boxers, pulling a tee shirt from his suitcase. I let out a low whistle and he whips around, pulling the shirt on as fast as he can. I walk over and embrace him, falling onto the bed.

"America!" He shouts, struggling.

"Yes?" I whisper quietly.

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Word count: 1,100

This one is longer than my usual chapters and is part one! Part two will be coming out soon! Sorry for the bad ending! Vote, comment, share it gets me motivated!

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