A/N: OTL I am so sorry for not updating! I really thought this story was a little lame ;_; This longer chapter is for all of you kind people who actually bother reading my story! :D I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for reading!

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"F-Francis, please! I'm n-not decent!" Matthew cried out, struggling in the older man's grasp. The Frenchman had decided that the best time to embrace your favorite son was when he was vulnerable. Or nude. He could deal with both, really.

"Not decent? Allons donc, Matthieu !" Francis loosened his grip and let the Canadian wriggle out of his arms. "I think you're more than decent, mon fils. No wonder you're the second biggest nation in the world! Just look at the size of your-"

"That's n-not what I meant!" He cut him off abruptly, blushing vividly and tying the towel tight around his waist. "Maple, we're naked!"

Francis gave him a puzzled expression and merely shrugged. "So? God gave you a body to flaunt, not hide!" He extended his arms in opposite directions of each other and took a few steps forward, an evil glint in his eyes. "So let papa see the rest of those regions he worked so hard to create~!"

Matthew backed up apprehensively against the wall and began to shake his head vigorously, hoping to hide the rosy tint in his cheeks. "W-wait! Wait!"

Francis obliged almost instantly. He stopped dead in his tracks, so that he was only an inch or two away from Matthew's face, any closer and he could kiss him. Normally, he would have. But something about the tone in his voice made him hesitate. "What is it, mon chaton?"

"I thought you were...in France, you know...meeting with Spain? What are you doing here?" Why he knew that information was beyond him. He didn't take much interest in international affairs, especially if they didn't involve him, that would be rude after all. Yet, when it involved France, he didn't mind listening in on a few details. He had always felt a little disappointed when hearing he had gone to visit some other European neighbor to discuss 'important matters' or 'political views', since he knew a large majority of the people he encountered were fairly attractive, men and women alike. Not that he was jealous of them or anything, just useless information he decided to keep to himself. He also acknowledged the fact that Francis was quite the tease, and being the most romantic and sensual of all the countries, he knew how to keep his title.

"Ah, yes! We were going to talk about a few things, at least, that's what we had planned..." Francis began as he drew in a sigh. "But it seems Romano had a few more...important circumstances to discuss with him. I got bored being all by myself at home and decided to try out this fantastic little spa Yao has set up here!"

Matthew felt a little a distress when Francis mentioned being alone. When Matthew became independent nation of his own, Francis would always stop by and have lunch with him. He'd even help cook sometimes, too. Though he was rather frisky in the kitchen; groping him here and there from time to time, Matthew missed those days where it was just the two of them. How they talked and laughed for hours, until it was time for Francis to leave. As time passed, however, Francis became caught up in his civil obligations and could no longer visit Matthew so frequently. Their lunches became shorter and shorter, and soon Francis stopped visiting him altogether. It was just another bittersweet memory that made his heart sink.

"W-well, you could have always visited...me." He said his last word so quietly, Francis couldn't quite understand him.

"Who?"

"Me. In C-Canada? Like...old times..." His voice trailed off slightly, and he diverted his gaze. He was still blushing, and the steamy atmosphere that surrounded them was of no help to him. 'How embarrassing...I bet he doesn't even remember what he had for breakfast this morning...' He thought to himself, twiddling his thumbs aimlessly behind his back.

"Aww, does mon chou chou miss meee?" He purred, his hands clasped over his heart in delight. "I miss those days, Matthieu I do!"

"You mean, you remember?!" Matthew choked in awe. He would figure Francis, being a man of heavy duties and even heavier wine, wouldn't bother to recall such meaningless times. He was one of the most distinguished and well respected nations after all, and the little moments they shared back then must have erased from his mind some point in his life.

He nodded slowly and faked a frown, acting as if he was a little hurt by Matthew's surprised tone. "But of course I do! How could I forget?"

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"So what are we having for lunch today, Matthieu ?" Francis asked, his chin rested on his fist and his eyes lingering on Matthew in pure adoration.

The younger man gazed over his shoulder to glance at Francis and smiled, "Tourtière, your favorite!"

The Frenchman threw his head back in delight, admiring both Matthew's wonderful taste in food and his adorable 'Québécois French', he had called it. He had improved greatly from his younger days, and overtime even developed his own little essence to the French language. It made Francis tingle to know he had raised that beautiful piece of work on his own. He rose from his chair and walked towards him, hands finding their way around his waist. "Mmm, très bien, sounds delicious."

The Canadian arched his back and shuddered, causing him to drop the wooden ladle he had held on to earlier. "F-Francis," He breathed, neck tilting when he felt peach fuzz brush against his shoulders. "L-let me cook in peace, s'il te plaît!"

Francis grinned and let a chuckle slip from his lips as he released him. "Fine, fine." He loved how timid the boy was and how innocent he reacted to all of his teasing gestures. He reached down to retreive the timber spoon, only to jolt back up suddenly when he heard Matthew wail.

"Matthieu , what's wrong!?"

"I...I forgot to buy pork yesterday!" He pouted, a palm pressed to his face.

Francis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Ah, do not worry mon trésor," He cooed, lifting his chin with an index finger. "Let's cook something new today, oui?"

"But I don't have any meat to cook with! Besides, Tourtière is your favorite, I promised you I'd cook you some next time you came to visit!"

The eagerness in his voice was just too cute, and those pleading eyes were just too much. Francis almost swooned at the sight; the boy's overall sweet appearance made him actually look more appetizing than anything they planned on cooking. "We'll think of something better!"

Matthew's sad expression faded into a confused, yet cuter face. "...Like what?"

Francis gushed at the sight of his big, curious violet eyes. "Well. Let's see. You have eggs and cream cheese, non?"

"Eh? Eggs and cream cheese, yes."

"Flour and milk?"

"I think so..." Was he thinking of baking a cake? For lunch? Francis had a sweet tooth, but certainly he didn't want to spoil his main course, did he? Then again, most cakes didn't have cream cheese in them, french or otherwise.

"How about raspberries?"

Matthew tore from his thoughts and shook his head. "Ah...no, but I have strawberries?"

Francis beamed, "Even better! Let's get started then."

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"You spoke such beautiful french back then! What happened?" He teased, poking him gently on the nose.

"W-well, you stopped coming...remember?"

"I stopped coming?"

Matthew paused before nodding once. He could feel that same, prickling feeling start to build in his chest. "You got busy with your own things and well, you just...stopped coming."

"I...stopped coming..." He murmured, his once lusty gaze turning into a softer, slightly concerned look. He sighed, took a few steps backward, and held the bridge of his nose. He was much happier then than he was now, what had happened to those golden days? Days that he didn't mind skipping meetings for, days he looked forward too, before he became so vital to the nations that surrounded him.

"It's okay though, really!" Matthew shouted, frightened that he may have hurt his feelings. "I...I had Kumajirou! You had more important things to take care of, I-"

"Nothing should be more important than a man's pride and joy." Francis muttered under his breath, still in disbelief.

"Francis? Are y-"

"Matthieu, tell papa the truth..."

"W-what?"

"Me détestez-vous pour vous quitter?" He asked softly, his half lidded eyes filling with a sort of sadness that made Matthew uneasy.

"I..." He stopped for a moment, to translate the French in his mind. He hadn't used it in so long, it took him a bit of time to fully take in the sentence.

'Do you hate me for leaving you?'

"Of...Of course not!" He hollered in response, slightly shocked at the wave of adrenaline that came over him. "I could..." He paused again, and let his voice fade into it's normal and softer tone. "Je... je ne pourrais jamais te hais."

Francis perked up, more than positive he heard an accent in the last bits of his sentence. "Quoi? What?"

"Eh?"

"Matthew," He said frantically, clutching both his shoulders with immense force. "Please, please repeat what you just said."

"I said, I could never-" He was promptly cut off when the older nation pulled him closer. He could feel his nose brush against his own and shuddered. He did his best to hide his sudden fear and felt his cheeks start to burn up again.

"No, say it in French, s'il te plaît."

"Je ne pourrais jamais...te hais." He whispered back, almost unable to contain himself when he felt their breaths collide.

"Beautiful..." Francis said softly, eyes glazed and lips parted. "Absolutely beautiful."

The Canadian diverted his gaze again, causing his nose to graze against Francis'. "What are y-you talking about?"

"...You're...so cute Matthieu!" Francis wailed, apparently reverted back into his normal state, nuzzling his face into Matthew's bare chest.

"Ahaha! F-France! P-please! Hahah!" Matthew cried out helplessly, squirming at the feel of his bristly stubble against his ribs. "Your face...ahahah! D-does not belong thereee ahahaha!"

"Matthew?" Uttered a voice from afar. Both men had heard it, and immediately jerked their heads towards the direction it came from.

It was Arthur. In the flesh. Quite literally.

"What the...FRANCIS?" The Englishman's confused tone of voice turned into rage when he recognized the other man. "What in God's name are you doing to the boy?!"

Matthew gasped and began to wave his hands dramatically towards Arthur, almost sure he had the wrong idea. "Eh, Arthur, this...this isn't what it looks like, r-really!"

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A/N: Well well, another cliffhanger! Baha. I truly am sorry for not updating, I didn't think people liked this story so much! It made me so happy I just had to add some little flashback fluff in there for you!~ :D I'll try and update more often! Oh, and bonus points for those who can guess what Francis was going to make during the flash back scene!

Translations:

Allons Donc! - Nonsense!

Tourtière – A Quebec delicacy! It's a delicious meat pie.

Chouchou - Pastry, if I'm not mistaken, like sweetie
Chaton - Kitten
Ange – Angel
Mon Fils - My Son
S'il te plaît – Please!

"Je ne pourrais jamais te hais." - "I could never hate you."
Mon trésor – My Treasure