The Nightmares

Chapter 5: The Dance

Okay so I know this was supposed to be updated on Friday, but a lot has been going on with my family over the past week that's been kind of hard to deal with. I haven't really had the motivation to do anything really, and I use most of my energy just to turn up to school so I'm really sorry if this chapter's super shitty. I hope you understand. Also, this chapter has some smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, Hetalia and it's characters belong to Hidekazu Himaruya.

xoxo

"We should go for a drink." Francis suggested. Him and England ambled down the corridors in sweet silence, neither of them having anything to say about the scene that had just occurred.

"A drink? Where would we go for a drink here? We're trapped remember." England spat, he was still annoyed about Alfred.

"Ohonhon. We're in Moscow mon Angleterre, Russia is bound to have a bar here, no? Besides, this is a nice hotel, they must have a room for wedding parties." France chuckled.

"He's not an alcoholic is he?"Arthur quizzed. His interest piked at the idea of him being an alcoholic. Then he could use something against the Russian.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

xoxo

After 15 minutes of searching, the two found a large room with a bar, a seating area and a hardwood dance floor. The bar was filled to the brim with all sorts of alcoholic beverages, completely out in the open, and most of all, free.

"People must have some parties here then." Arthur asked. He wiped his hand over the cool wooden bar surface, and took a seat at one of the shiny black bar stools.

"Possibly," France smirked, "Maybe we could all have a party in here at some point." He moved the gate attached to the bar and picked a new clean wine glass from it's stand. He turned and looked at the wine options they had, and carefully picked out a red wine. Pouring the liquid into the glass, he made eye contact with Arthur. His eyes were slightly hooded, and he had a small smirk on his lips. "What would you like mon amour?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just a beer."

Francis poured England his drink choice and lightly set it down in front of him. He made his way around the bar and towards the chair beside Arthur. Perching on the stool, he leaned his elbow on the bar and placed his hand in his palm.

"So, I think we should carry on the conversation we were having in the conference room." Arthur glared at his suggestion.

"There's nothing to talk about." Arthur said bluntly. He didn't want this conversation to happen. The fact that Francis believed Arthur loved Alfred hurt him. Of course, Arthur will always love Alfred, just not romantically.

"Yes there is. You clearly love Alfred, why don't you just admit it already?" Francis pushed. He wanted Arthur to admit it so he could know if his attempts were in vain. "The nights we have spent together must not have meant anything to you, non?"

Arthur blushed at Francis' words. "Fine. I do love him." Arthur spat, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Oh." Francis' voice cracked, and he felt the tears well up in his eyes. England immediately noticed this.

"But it's purely familial love." Arthur corrected. "I can't possibly get feelings like that for someone I practically raised you fool."

"Oh?" France's tone raised an octave, and the lump in his throat disappeared.

"I just want the best for him, you know?" England took a large gulp of his drink. Francis' eyes followed his movements. "And I don't think Russia is the best way for him."

"Do you think they like each other?" Francis murmured, his eyes resting on his own wine. Arthur scoffed.

"No of course not. They hated each other just yesterday. I know Alfred, he wouldn't go through those stages that quickly." England's voice saddened. "Or at least I thought I knew him." France tsked and patted Arthur on the back.

"Sometimes people make moves that are completely unpredictable. This is just one of those moments, it doesn't mean you don't know Alfred." Francis consoled, gently rubbing his back.

"But what does this mean? What if Russia is just using him? What if Russia hurts him Francis?" England questioned. He covered his face with his hands and tugged his hair.

"If that happens, we will step in. But let Alfred make his own mistakes mon amour."

"Do you think they're calling each other by their human names yet?"

"Uh, I'm not sure about that one. Since they spent the night together last night it wouldn't surprise me if they are."

"Do you think they shared a bed?"

"Probably not." Francis laughed. A smile tugged on Arthur's mouth. Sometimes the Frenchman's presence could cheer England up.

xoxo

About 8 pints of beer and 7 glasses of wine later, England was a mess. He had loosened his tie, unbuttoned a few of his top buttons and taken his shoes off. His beach blonde hair flicked up in certain areas, giving him a hot I-can't-be-bothered look.

"So, Francis," Arthur purred, dragging France's name out, "Fancy a dance?" He leaned in closer, his eyes hooded.

"A dance?" Francis himself was little drunk, just not as much as England was. He placed his glass down and removed his tie and shoes. "Where's the music?"

"Ummm... Here somewhere right?" Arthur giggled, getting up, tripping over and then grabbed Francis' hand. They spent the next 5 minutes looking for something to do with music, both getting a little frustrated at some point. Eventually, they came across a laptop plugged into some speakers in the corner of the empty party room.

"Haha! Pick some music mon amour." Francis chuckled, resting his hand on the small of England's back for a second. Arthur bent over slightly, putting his elbow on the desk and placing his chin in his hand.

Arthur made a humming noise and picked a random song. The music began playing loudly, and the two started to dance to no particular beat at all, laughing away.