A/N:
This is the first part of a two part FrxUK story.
More actually FrxUK next Section, this is more of background story.
757 Words.
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"Francis?"
"Ah Arthur!" France turned around embarrassed to face the twelve year old kid. It was two in the morning, and he held his own dirtied sheet from his late night excursions, and now he had to face the kid. "What are you doing up so early, you should be in bed…."
"I heard your lady friend leaving…" there was something in the young boy's eyes, something different as he stood there with his stuffed unicorn. It was something of a grief, or jealousy. Francis couldn't understand it though, and brushed it off.
"Ah I am sorry, did that wake you-"
"France, why do those ladies come over so much?" The fluffy headed tween stared up with sad eyes. "I don't like it when they come over France, you forget about me when they come over." Arthur Kirkland, the tough little boy who loved to run around and play, who was so stubborn about everything, Arthur Kirkland who yelled at France whenever he got a chance, and who France could already tell was going to be much stronger than him, began to cry.
"England, England…" he sighed, setting the sheets back down on the bed, walking over and wrapping his arms around the tiny nation. " What's wrong Arthur? You know I will never forget about you. I make you dinner and tuck you in every night, I make sure to check the closets and the beds for monsters, I play with you, I am with you all the time. Why do you think I will forget about you?"
Arthur buried his head into France's shoulder and tears continued to come. It took a few minutes for the upset boy to get enough control of himself to talk, but when he did, what he said shocked France.
"France, the way you look at them! You look at them like you want them more than anyone else. France, I want you to look at me like that. I want to always be the one you want more than anyone else. I want you to look at me like that, and only me!" England clung to France, one of his hands clenching into a tight fist in France's curls, and a skinny arm around his neck, once again crying into his shoulder.
France was surprised, not at how perceptive Arthur was, but that he felt that way. Scooping up the tiny nation he cradled him against his chest gently. "If that is what you wish Arthur, it will be so." He whispered, stroking his spiky hair. With that, he left the dirty laundry where it lay and took England back to his bedroom, untangling the child from his hair. "I will be back in a moment." The miserable mass of child on the bed nodded and France walked out of the room, walking to the nearest phone and calling Prussia.
He had to call twice to get the man to pick up, and when he did, he sounded out of breath like he had been in the middle of strenuous exercise. France could guess what he had been doing.
"Prussia here."
"Hey Gil, its France."
"What's up?" he sounded annoyed still, but not as much. He was more curious to why his friend was calling at this hour in the morning. " The slut we picked up for you not up to your expectations?"
"No Gil, I was just calling to say that I can't make our plans for tomorrow. I am taking care of England."
"Oh okay. And this couldn't wait till morning 'cause…?"
"I also thought you might want to know because I am not going out to pick up girls with you anymore."
At this the German nation exploded. "The hell!? What did the kid have a bad dream and walk in on you having sex or something?! What's wrong with you France?!"
France listened to him rant for a few minutes before cutting him off. "Gil don't you see now? I don't want this anymore; I already have something that means the whole world to me now. I don't want to keep distracting myself from him."
"Parenting has ruined you Francis, you are no fun anymore."
"You wouldn't get it."
With that he hung up and walked back to England's room, curling up around the drowsy kid. He buried his head in the fluffy blonde hair as Arthur curled up against his stomache.