Chapter 1

England was enjoying his afternoon tea while reading the newspaper. It was a lovely day as for once it wasn't raining cats and dogs. America was too busy to pester him, and he hadn't heard of that French frog for quite some time now. England sighed happily, for once completely at peace. That was until a voice caught his ears.

"Angleterre! You must help me!"

England growled and put down his cup of tea. The bloody Frenchman had come to disturb his peace and quiet. England looked up, but France was nowhere in sight. Confused, he turned his head.

"Down here!" the voice peeped, a panicked undertone colouring its words.

England looked down. In front of him sat a frog. A rather scared looking frog. With blue eyes.

"Angleterre, something terrible has happened!" the frog whined.

England blinked. He was speechless. While his staring continued, the frog frowned in irritation.

"Angleterre, snap out of it! It is me, France!"

For a moment, England remained silent. So, France had turned into a frog? His lips curled. This was too good to be true.

"Are you going to keep staring at me like some idiot or—"

France was cut off when England started laughing. France, a frog? It was simply hilarious! Finally he had decided to live up to his nickname!

England fell out of his chair the moment his laughter reached a hysterical level. He clenched his sides and felt tears building up behind his squeezed shut eyelids.

France let out an annoyed tsk. "Mon Dieu, it is not funny! Stop laughing this instant!"

But England couldn't help himself. His outburst continued another five minutes or so before he finally calmed down. France was looking rather pissed off.

"Are you finally done?" he asked, frowning angrily.

"Yes, I believe so," England hiccupped. He sat up and looked France in the face. "So how come you are a frog?" he asked, now curious but still grinning like an idiot.

"It is Prussia's fault! He found one of your spell books, and decided to try it out on me!"

England stopped smiling. "That bloody bastard, he must keep his filthy paws off of my personal belongings!"

"Yes, all good and well, but now the book says the only way to break the spell is for someone to kiss me!" France interrupted his complaining.

"So? Why did you not kiss that Prussian thief?" England asked.

"Because he ran away as soon as he read about the cure! And so, because it is your book, I now ask you to take responsibility!"

England stared at him. His eyebrows knit together. "No way."

"But you must!" France pleaded.

"I am not doing that. It is Prussia's fault, he should be the one dealing with the consequences."

England started to rise from the ground, but France jumped into his lap. England shrieked and fell backwards.

"You must! Please Angleterre, I don't want to spend the rest of my days in this filthy body! I am far too beautiful for that!"

England shook his head. There was absolutely no way he was going to kiss France. The frog part he could deal with, it was the guy on the inside he had problems with.

"I am not listening to you!" he growled, and pushed the amphibian off. He quickly got up and started walking away.

"Angleterre, wait! I beg of you!" France pursued his only hope, but his new body wasn't fast enough. "Angleterre!" he cried out one last time, tears leaking out of his eyes. If England wouldn't help him, then he…

England slowed down and looked over his shoulder. France really looked pathetic, big soppy tears running out of those giant frog eyes. England felt disgusted, but also a little…worried.

Yes, he and France had never been the best of friends. And that was a gigantic understatement. But seeing him in this miserable state made England's heart drop. Even though he hated the bloody bastard, he still pitied his current state. England sighed.

France was sobbing. The only person in the world who could possibly help him had just walked away. If only he knew…

"Stop crying."

France jumped at the sudden sound, and slowly looked up. England stood bent over him, frowning but lightly blushing.

"All right, I will kiss you, but you'd better not try anything you damn frog!" he scowled.

France blinked. Had he really just said those sweet words?

England knelt down and lifted up France's body. The other was now blushing as well. This was really happening!

England took in a deep breath, and quickly brought France closer to his face. France closed his eyes, awaiting the blessed touch. When nothing happened, he cracked one eye open. England had a smug smile on his face.

"You did not think I was really going to kiss you, were you?"

"Merde! Angleterre, ce n'est pas amusant!" France roared.

England on the other hand found the whole thing pretty hilarious. "No, I am not kissing you. Instead, I shall take you with me."

France let out a gasp when England shoved the poor thing into his pocket. "Sacre bleu! Let me out this instant!"

England whistled as he walked up to his house. He went to his basement, where he found a little cage to put the frog in.

"What do you think you're doing?" France whined.

"Even though I will not kiss you, I still want my book back. And once I find that Prussian bastard, I'll make sure he'll save you from this…predicament. I shall head out in the morning."

France pouted as England started heading back upstairs.

"Oh, and I will provide you with some food, don't worry," England reassured him.

"Dear Lord what did I do to deserve this?" France groaned miserably.

~o~

It was night time. England was sleeping soundly, knowing the frog was safely locked in his basement. What he did not know, was that when he went to give France his dinner, he accidently left the cage unlocked. So right now, France was slowly making his way up the stairs.

"Stupid Angleterre…locking me up…I'll show him!"

Luckily he was a frog, so the stairs didn't hold him up for too long. The animal hopped towards England's bedroom, and silently peeked in. Good, England was fast asleep. France jumped onto the bed and made his way to England's head.

"Sweet dreams, mon chéri. I hope they are about me," France giggled to himself.

When he reached England's face he paused. England really did look more at peace when he was asleep. The frown between his eyebrows was gone, and a light smile played around his lips.

France took a moment to stare at the man. If only the Englishman knew why France wanted him to be the one to kiss him. He'd lied when he said Prussia ran away. Prussia's kiss would never save him. And only the two of them along with Spain knew why. It was France's darkest secret, one can choose to say.

England mumbled in his sleep and sighed. France smiled. If he wanted to do it, now was the perfect time. The frog quietly crept up to England's lips, and he softly placed a kiss on them. Immediately he felt the effects. His body started growing again, and soon he had regained his human form. England shifted in his sleep from the sudden weight that was now laying on top of him, but France didn't want to move just yet.

"Je t'aime, Angleterre," he whispered, before leaning in for another kiss.

~o~

England slowly drifted out of his slumber. Something was bugging him, and he wanted to know what it was. As he started to awaken, he felt unusually hot. There was something covering him. And…was there somebody kissing him?!

England was now fully awake. His eyes shot open to look at the perpetrator. France was laying on top of him, naked, and with a dumb blissful expression on his face. The expression quickly changed when England punched him in the face.

"Gaah!" France yelled as he tumbled to the floor.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, you damn frog?!" England shouted.

France wasn't sure if his cheeks were red due to anger or embarrassment. "I was just breaking the spell!" France tried to explain himself.

But England was a little too aggravated to forgive him. "Get out of my house!" he yelled, throwing pillows at the Frenchman.

"But, my clothes—"

"I don't care! You should have thought about that before assaulting me!"

France tried to explain he was already naked the moment the spell broke, and therefore England had to give him some clothes, but the other nation was already pushing him down the stairs and onto the street.

"And don't come back!" he yelled, slamming the door shut.

"But…you didn't let me explain anything…" France sighed.

Now England would never know why he wanted to kiss him.

~o~

England had gotten his book of spells back, and had seriously kicked Prussia's ass in the process.

"Damn bastard had better not done anything else," England grumbled while flipping through the book.

He landed on the page that contained the frog spell. Curious, England decided to read it through. When he got to the part on the cure, he froze.

"The one the cursed must kiss is his or her one true love," he read aloud.

His face started heating up as the realisation hit him. France had wanted him to break the spell. He wanted to kiss him. And according to this book, England was…

England's face was beet red by the time he shut the book.

"This has never happened," he said to himself, burying the book in the deepest part of his closet.

~o~

A long distance away, France sipped his coffee and dreamt about his Angleterre. Would he ever figure out his feelings for him? France sighed, and decided it was better not to say anything.

Confessing would only break the spell.

~o~

Words:

Angleterre: England (in French you usually put articles in front of countries, but I figured France leaves those away when speaking about the personifications instead of their countires)
Mon Dieu: My God
Merde: Dammit
Ce n'est pas amusant: It's not funny/amusing
Sacre bleu: (insert swearword)
Mon chéri: My sweet
Moi: Me
Je t'aime: I love you