Consoling a Cup of Coffee

Axis Powers Hetalia

Era:—England's return. Pre French and Indian War, Pre Revolution

Pairings: FrancisxAlfred, ArthurxAlfred

Warnings: Implied sex between two male countries….

Author's Notes: Aaah! My first APH fanfiction. –cough- I tried to be as historically accurate as possible, with a little creative license, of course. I was thinking about how France sort of had its hands in America during the British neglect, and I thought it might be interesting to explore the tension of the French and Indian War. So here you go! Please enjoy, and leave me a little review.

Alfred sat on the edge of the bed, hands fisting the blankets beneath him. He yawned, stretching his neck, and finding his pajama pants from the bottom of the bed, slipping them on and moving his feet, clumsily finding his slippers. He sighed, pushing his blonde hair out of his face and reaching on to the nightstand, blindly searching for his glasses. Finding them, he slipped the cold metal against his skin.

He blinked, his eyes still bleary with sleep, standing up, quietly, slowly, before pulling his discarded pajama top from the floor and tugging it over his head, and padding softly across the floor into the kitchen, so as not to disturb the other country, still asleep in his bed. He stoked the fire, putting the kettle on to heat water for his morning coffee, and he sat at his wooden table, head in hands, trying to find the words he would need when the other awoke. It would be a difficult conversation, and one he was sure the other would not appreciate. The rain pounded, making sounds against his window panes, offering a natural rhythm to his broken thoughts.

How appropriate.

He heard his friend stirring in his room, so he stood up, grabbing a couple cups and preparing coffee for two, setting out the cream and sugar.

"Nnn…Good morning, Alfred."

His bedmate appeared in the doorway, dressed shamelessly in his under garments, stretching like a cat. "You've brewed coffee. Excellent."

"You're…you're up early, Francis. You usually sleep in 'til late…"

The Frenchman pressed a quick kiss to Alfred's cheek before sitting down in a chair and helping himself to a mug of coffee. "I heard you get out of bed, mon cher. What ever could have possibly gotten you up at this hour on a day like this?" He made a disgusted face at the weather outside the window. "The only other place I've seen days this miserable is England…"

"Heh…England…" Arthur smiled halfheartedly at the other country's joke, and sat down across from him. "About…About Arthur…"

"What about him?" the reply came quickly, almost terse. "What's he done now?"

"He…He came back. Yesterday. Before you got here…"

"He came back? What does he want, more money? You were better off when he deserted you, Alfred."

"Don't say that." Alfred stood up, his blue eyes steeling. "Don't say that. Ever."

Francis continued to casually sip his coffee. "Why not? It's true, non? You've thought it too. You promised to forget him."

Alfred shook his head and paced toward the window looking out into the storm. "I know…I thought…" His fist pounded on the glass pane, rattling it, before he sighed. "I thought he had forgotten me too."

"He did."

"Until now." The younger nation turned around, his eyes full of sadness and confusion. "He…He came back. He wanted to see me again. That has to mean something."

"He probably just needs your resources again."

"Maybe," Alfred sighed. "Or maybe this time it's different. Maybe…maybe he'll keep his promise to look after me."

"And what have I been doing, Alfred? I, Francis, have been taking care of you. Not that idiot who left you alone."

"Maybe he knew I could take care of myself." Alfred's eyes met the other's with challenge. "Maybe he wanted me to have a chance to prove myself."

"Or maybe he couldn't take care of you. Maybe he abandoned you, Alfred. I didn't discard you when you needed me most, like he did." Francis sighed, his long lashes fluttering closed. "I won't stay, you know. Not if you invite him back. Are you gonna let me go for maybe's?"

" I…I have to. I…" Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose behind his glasses, adjusting the lenses quickly, before letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Francis…"

Francis stood his eyes angry now. "Why? Why after all the things he's done would you leave me for him?"

"Because…I still love him."

A silence passed between them, the only sound the raindrops beating on the roof. Both kept their gaze on the other, determined not to look away, before Alfred had the decency to blush, and turn his eyes away.

"I'm…I'm sorry Francis. We'll still be friends, right?"

"Yes. If you ever need me, Alfred…"

"I know. You can call on me too. We'll always be allies, huh, Francis?" Alfred looked at the other, hopeful.

"Sure. Whatever you want. I better go."

"But it's raining outside!" Alfred protested.

"Doesn't matter." Francis walked back to the bedroom and came back fully dressed. "It's better to get back quickly."

Alfred simply nodded.

"I won't give up on you, Alfred." the older nation kissed Alfred's cheek and opened the door. "And I'll be back for you too."

The bespectacled country watched the other leave, disappearing into the rain, before he closed the door. He walked back to his table, and picked up his coffee to take a drink.

It was cold.