AN: Lemon practice, anyone? Oh, my life! I seriously can not believe I wrote this... And I REALLY can't beliebe that my first lemon is Franada! I thought it would be GerIta or Spamano! I
huuuge thanks to my pal Jaz for totally motivating me to do this xD But an even bigger thanks to my France RPer on Quizilla. If it wasn't for her I'd be stuck without a plot~
As you might be able to tell, this is based on an RP and I'm so sorry to my France for totally failing your part. I deleted the messages and couldn't really remember what you said, sorry tesoro!
Anyway, here you go, my first lemon... enjoy~

To say that Matthew was an emotional person wouldn't be completely accurate.

To say that Matthew was an emotional person where Francis was involved was an understatement.

Feeling Francis' arms around him at that moment, along with every wave of emotion that had ever washed over the Canadian when he was with him was simply too much. He could feel the warmth in his heart building, and before he could stop himself he whispered; "I love you."

Francis' eyes widened. He felt his heart warm up with Matthew's words and he cheeks were filled with the same heat. Surely, his sweet little Canadian hadn't really confessed to him? It was just a dream, no? "Wha-What did you just say?" he stuttered.

Matthew turned the darkest shade of red known to man. A shade of red that would rival the blood in his veins. He was terrified that he'd finally destroyed the only friendship he'd ever had. He could feel tears gathering in his violet eyes. He bit his lip, trying his hardest to fight off the offensive tears. No such luck. They spilled down his face, dampening his cheeks. "I'm sorry!" He sobbed, not daring to look at Francis. "I spoke before I thought. But I meant what I said. I understand if you don't feel the same, and I understand if you want to go home, but I'm glad that you finally know how I feel." Matthew was shaking all the way though his speech, tears flowing more rapidly now.

Francis had always believed that, being from 'the country of love', he was an unstoppable romantic. Still he hadn't realized what had the warm feeling he got whenever he looked into Matthew's violet eyes was in love. He had been in love for a long time. But, somehow, he hadn't realized it before this day..He pulled himself out of the hug, looking Matthew straight in his eyes even though the Canadian was trying to avoid looking at him. Without really thinking before speaking, he opened his mouth and said with a soft voice:"But, I love you too."

Matthew's eyes widened considerably. He launched himself forward and held onto Francis tightly, the tears in his eyes taking on a whole new motive. "I love you, Francis." he whispered, again, controlling every syllable this time around.

The Frenchman's arms wrapped around Matthew's lithe body, his hands sneaking under the red hoodie and exploring the soft skin of the Canadian's back. "I love you too, Matthieu." he whispered, leaning in to kiss Matthew's face.

He planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, then made his way towards his beautiful, cherry coloured lips, pecking them at first, then pressing his own lips against them forcefully, but gently.

Matthew gasped quietly as Francis pushed him onto the sofa, not disconnecting himself once. He pulled Matthew's hoodie off, exposing the creamy skin of his flat stomach, and discarded it.

Mischievous hands came up to gently rub circles over Matthew's nipples, causing the Canadian to bite his lip, holding back a moan.

Francis was having none of that.

He rubbed a little harder in hopes that Matthew would let his voice go. Which he did.

With a smirk, Francis pressed another kiss to his lover's lips, before moving downwards, leaving a trail of kisses leading from the corner of Matthew's mouth right down to his left nipple. He gave one more smirk when Matthew shuddered, and took the nipple into his mouth, his hand still busy with the other.

With his free hand, Francis reached down and started rubbing Matthew's crotch.

Biting his lip, Matthew let out a loud groan. He could feel himself hardening under the Frenchman's ministrations, and he was pretty sure Francis could too.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." whispered Francis, pulling himself away from that Canadian's lovely chest to press a kiss to his lips.

The Canadian in question shook his head. "Don't stop." he panted. "I've been waiting too long. Please, don't stop!"

With a smirk, Francis began to undo Matthew's loose jeans. "Do you want to be mine, mon cher?" he teased, reaching his slender fingers into the Canadian's boxers.

Matthew gasped as he felt Francis' hand coil around his member, stroking him softly. At that moment, all he could really concentrate on was how much he wanted the Frenchman. His moans gradually got louder as his fingernails dug themselves deeper into Francis' shoulder.

With another smirk, Francis pulled his hand back. "Do you want to be mine, Matthieu?" he repeated, grabbing hold of Matthew's chin.

Giving a gentle nod, Matthew groaned with need. "Please…" his voice came out in an airy tangle, full of need.

Francis removed the rest of Matthew's clothes and placed three fingers against the Canadian's lips, pressing them into his warm mouth and smiling when Matthew's tongue moved around them, covering them in saliva.

Soon enough, Francis pulled his fingers away, leaving a trail of saliva in their wake. He used his other hand to hold Matthew's face, making sure he looked into his eyes as he gently pushed a finger into the Canadian's tight entrance.

Matthew bit his lip, never once breaking eye contact with Francis, as the finger explored his insides.

Once Francis saw his teeth loosen their nasty grip on his lip, he added another finger. Then another. He stretched Matthew thoroughly before removing his fingers.

Matthew whined gently, feeling kind of empty with the other's fingers gone.

Francis quickly removed his clothes and returned to the Canadian. He placed his own member at the other's entrance, leaning up to place a loving kiss to his lips as he gently pushed himself in.

Matthew let out a high-pitched cry, feeling Francis stretch him beyond what he thought possible. His breaths came out in short, shaky pants and he wrapped his arms tightly around Francis' neck.

The Frenchman stilled, waiting for Matthew to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him, after all.

It wasn't long before the Canadian placed a kiss to Francis' neck and whispered "Please move… please!"

Francis gladly obliged, starting to gently rock his hips against Matthew's, letting out small moans of his own. He never thought anything would feel as amazing as this. Each time Matthew clenched around felt better and better.

"Fa-faster, please!" moaned Matthew, burying his face in the crook of Francis' neck.

Francis chuckled. Matthew was always so polite, and it seemed that during sex was no exception. He moved faster, pushing himself deeper and adjusting his angle.

Soon enough, Matthew let out a long, loud moan, throwing his head back, his eyes wide open.

"Found it." chuckled Francis, aiming himself at that spot.

Matthew's moans grew in volume each time Francis hit that amazing spot inside of him. He felt himself getting closer and closer with each thrust and he coiled himself back around the Frenchman. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Francis began gently nibbling on Matthew's collarbone and rubbed his neglected erection. He knew the Canadian was close, and so was he.

With one more perfectly angled thrust, Matthew came with a scream of pure ecstasy. Francis' name was mixed into the broken yelp, somewhere.

Feeling Matthew tighten around him, he buried his face in the crook of the Canadian's neck and came too, with incoherent French and the other's name spilling from his lips.

The two took a moment to learn to breathe again, and cuddled into each other.

It was Francis who finally broke the silence. "Je t'aime, Matthieu."

Matthew smiled, sleep already threatening to claim him. "Je t'aime aussi, Francis."