A/N: My first text here (plz, don't eat me ;w;) and also my first textx in English. As you can maybe guess by that, English is not my first language so please correct me if there's some terrible grammar errors. Otherwise I hope you like the story or texts - as you wish to call it. Because France and England just are too adorable together.

AUGUST RAIN

He was too close, way too close and his scent was all over the room. The scent that was too sweet, way too sweet. There was no place to escape to and it made England nervous. He knew too clearly that he had himself accepted to do this. He knew he was the one to go to France's place… to follow the older man to his room. He was the one who had let take his shirt off, he was the one laying on the bed, kissing the sweet lips of the older one. So in the end there was no-one else to blame than he himself.

"Tue es tres beau, mon Amor"

The older man whispered softly in the younger one's ear, making a blush cross England's pale face.
"S-shut up, you idiot! And stop speaking that totally terrible language of yours!"

"Oh, but mon amor, French is the language of love and it suits to your beauty so well!"

"I... I said shut up, frog"

England was sounding anything but serious and he really didn't need France's amused smirk to tell him that. The blush in the man's cheeks got a deeper red colour and he tried to turn his head so that he wouldn't have to face the self-satisfied grin of the other man. But whatever was in England's mind, France wasn't going to let that happen as he gently got a grip from the smaller one's chin.

"You're right, my dear Angleterre, too much talk, I'd say"

Just a soft whisper in the air before the lips softly pressed against the other ones.

Rain was falling down in the darkened streets and people were running inside as fast as they just could. But there was one figure that didn't run. The blond haired man just kept walking with a peaceful pace even though he hadn't even got umbrella with him.

"I knew I should not let you go out by yourself, Angleterre…"

Familiar voice got the man's attention but when he realized who was speaking, he just hurried his steps a bit.

"Get lost"

England muttered with a sour tone in his voice.

"Why so rude tone, my dear Angleterre?"

France asked almost dramatically as he moved to walk besides the younger country, offering him the shelter his big blue umbrella gave. Blue eyes watched the other man carefully and finally France sighed.

"You are soaking wet, mon Amor"

"Such a Sherlock you are…"

"Why won't you come into my place? Let's get you dry."

That really wasn't a question as England could notice when the Frenchmen took his hand and started to walk to the direction where England really hadn't planned to go.

"I… Let go you…you-"

"Shh, no need to be so loud, Angleterre. You're going to wake up the whole city"

The younger man blushed and went silent. France just smiled.

"Let's get off this totally wet shirt of yours"

France spoke silently as he unbuttoned the Englishman's shirt and threw it on the floor. England shivered lightly as the warm air touched his moist skin. He hadn't even realized the water had been so cold and he really wasn't too warm himself. Maybe that was the reason why the younger nation really didn't put up a show when the older blonde pulled him closer.

"Mon Dieu! You're freezing cold, mon cher!"

England muttered something which sounded pretty much like 'oh, you noticed' but France couldn't be sure. The older blonde chuckled silently as he softly kissed the younger one's neck and made him moan silently.

"Oui… don't you worry, my dear Angleterre, I'm going to get you warm again."

The blush on the Brit's cheeks deepened but before he could say anything were France's lips silencing him again as the two half-naked bodies got closer to each other.

As if France could have been satisfied with just England's shirt off. As if, as if. The blush burned on the younger one's cheeks as France threw the last pieces of clothes on the floor. France's blue eyes turned to England and a smile appeared to his lips.

"For once I got you silent, my love"

For a second England looked doubtful and surprised at the same time. Was it… Had he just…?

"Yes, you heard right, mon Amor"

France smiled and England couldn't help the smile which was sneaking on his face too. The red in the younger blonde's cheeks deepened as he rose to kiss gently France's lips. It was France's turn to be surprised but as loving as ever was the man's answer to the careful kiss from the other as he pushed England gently down on his back.

"I love you, Angleterre"

He silently whispered to the other ma's ear as he let his hands wander down on the pale body. A silent moan escaped England's lips earning a chuckle from France. The green eyes looked angry for a split-second before he kissed the other one's lips with a silent whisper and a little, shy smile.

"Je t'aime aussi, France"