Hetalia Oneshots

Mr. Kirkland

English was Francis's favourite class.
Not because of the curriculum. That was a bore. And not because of his classmates. Gilbert and Antonio weren't in this class.
What made it his favourite was the teacher.
Mr. Kirkland wasn't really all that hot. His eyebrows were massive and his fashion sense was bland. But if you looked closely, you could see little holes in his ears where piercings once were and his hair was the type to be easily combed into a punk style.
Francis could tell that his English teacher was a bad boy.
And he liked the thought of that.
"Francis, pay attention." Mr. Kirkland hissed at him. The Frenchman felt his pants tighten.
"Francis!" The Brit scolded again. "See me after class."
It was last class on a Friday. They would be almost alone in the school~.
"Yes sir."
Class drug on after that. Francis was so anxious to see his teacher alone.
Eventually, though, the bell rang and the class moved out.
"Can I ask, is everything alright?"
"Hm?"
"Your grades are going down and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help..."
"Well...I'm just a bit distracted...by somebody in zhis class..."
"So I need to change the seating arrangement?"
"Well, no, actually. You see..." Francis trailed off, face peppered with pink. "Zhe distraction...is kind of...you..."
"What?!" Mr. Kirkland leaned back in his chair, flustered.
"It's no lie. I've been taken by you for quite a while."
"But you're my student?"
"In zhat case...maybe you could teach me zhe ways of your body?"
"You bloody pervert!" Mr. Kirkland gasped.
Francis only purred.
The Brit scowled, hitting Francis over the head with a book and strutting out of the room.

---

Weeks had passed since that encounter with Francis, but the kid was still stirring in Arthur's head. Why would he want him of all the teachers? The French teacher, Mr. Williams was soft and fluffy, as well as kind hearted. Why not him?
Why not the muscular, Turkish, Mr. Adnan, the gym teacher? He was hot...I mean he probably would be if he didn't wear that mask all the time.
Or what about the History teacher, Mr. Wang. Wang was right in his name. That was a catch right?
So why was it the grumpy English teacher who everybody said was possessed by an eyebrow demon and had warts on his pattotie?
Arthur desperately wanted to know.
But he couldn't ask. No. That would imply that he wanted...
Yeah. He couldn't risk that.
However, Francis's grades were dropping still and Arthur's boss, Mr. Jones, was getting on his back about keeping them up.
And so, his period of avoiding the boy was over.
"Francis, your grades are still-"
"I know! But your butt is just too fine. I can't focus."
Arthur gaped. His butt! Of course!
"You need to pass this class to graduate."
"I know...but I can't focus wizh you looking so fine."
Arthur peered at the opened door, wondering how many teachers were still in the school, how many would...hear.
"Okay, fine, but we have to keep it down."
"Really?"
"And if your grades go up I'll do it again."
Francis grinned, licking his teeth.
"Now, um..." He got up and closed the door, locking it and pressing his back against it. "How do you want to go about this?"
Francis grinned, reaching into his bag and pulling something out. He ducked behind the desk and emerged a few minutes later, hair in pigtails and the skirt from a female uniform around his waste. His legs were coated in hair but he looked...sexy...
Hot damn.
"Okay, so I'm just a naughty schoolgirl and I need to be punished because I failed my test."
"Oh..." Arthur walked to the front of the room, standing behind his desk. "You failed your test. I'll have to call your parents."
"Please! I'll do anyzhing! Just don't call my parents!"
"Anything, huh?"
"Oui. Anyzhing."
Arthur stepped forward, leaning against Francis's desk. His face was only centimetres from the other male's. "How about we give you an extra credit assignment?"
"If that's what it takes." Francis swallowed.
"It's going to be a geography assignment. You're good at that right?"
"Oui."
"Good. Now I want you to map out my body.~"
Francis nodded, standing up and taking Arthur's hand. He lead him to his desk where he preceded to knock all his papers on the floor. He pushed Arthur down and straddled him, the skirt billowing out around his thighs.
French fingers moved to undo English buttons, revealing Arthur's bare chest. Francis leaned down and kissed his flesh, lips like moths against his nipples. He let out a moan, grabbing onto the front of the Frenchman's shirt, ripping it open like a lion ripping open the ribcage of the gazelle it had slain.
"Mr. Kirkland.~"
"Call me Arthur."
"Arzhur."
"Again.~"
"Arzhur. Wake up."
"Huh?"
"Wake up, mon Cher."
Arthur opened his eyes, finding himself in his bed at home, his husband standing over him with a tray of food.
"It was a dream?"
"Oui. And a pretty sexy one I'm guessing based off your bloody nose."
Arthur's hand shot toward his face, feeling a dampness. He pulled his fingers away to reveal red. Well shit.
Or should he say...bloody hell?
"Happy aniversary, mon Cher!" Francis set the tray of breakfast down on Arthur's lap, sitting at his his husband's side and kissing his cheek.
"Wow. I can't believe it's been ten years."
"Oui. Ten years." Francis smiled. "So...what was zhat dream about?"
"Huh? What dream? There wasn't a dream??!!"
"Why so defensive?" Francis purred, hand venturing onto Arthur's thigh. "We're you dreaming of another man?"
"Um...well...you were a school girl who did bad on a test and needed to be punished..."
Francis's face turned pink. "We have to stop staying up late browsing pornhub."
"Yes. We do."
The two broke into a fit of synced laughter that melted into a calm session of cuddling.
This anniversary had started out weird, but all that would smooth over. Because that was just how Francis and Arthur were.

I haven't written in this thing in forever kill me. I need to start penning out my ideas as oneshots instead of thinking up full fics for the love of doitsu. Anyway, I need sleep...and probably social contact...happy summer everybody.