Don't kill me! I know I haven't touched my two stories in forever. I'm sorry, I've been busy. It's called culinary school. So why am I posting this, you ask?

I was surfing the FrancexAmerica LJ community, A Moveable Feast, reading through the entries. One of them had a link that led me to this beautiful picture on Pixiv:

http: / www. pixiv. net/ member_?mode=medium&illust_id=6864232

One of the comments also mentioned how much that person would love to see a fic about it. So here it is! I got extreme and sudden motivation to write at about one in the morning, all right? Leave me alone. -3- It's been a while since I wrote a Hetalia fic, so I hope everyone's IC. And that my French isn't insulting. OTL

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing them for this story. I returned them... mostly intact. Madagascar is the only one I own, she's my OC but she's only in this for like a paragraph.

Games were so much fun.

They helped to relieve stress, distracted a person from something unpleasant, broke the ice, kept conversations going, bolstered friendships...

….and stopped many a nation from going absolutely insane at world meetings.

The average person might wonder how said countries manage to play games at such an important event, where one must sit, listen, take notes, or present. However, after doing this for decades, one has plenty of time to think up ideas and test them out. There have been numerous attempts in the past, some succeeding and others failing beautifully- or not.

For instance, no one will ever forget the time Prussia- whom was not even supposed to be present at the meetings anymore, but somehow managed to break in "every bleeding time," as England liked to word it- exclaimed it to be Opposite Day. Or that one idea of Russia's that gave everyone nightmares about unicorns and lead pipes for a week (best not to bring it up or ask about it, ever).

France had taken part in these shenanigans many times, had even sparked a few games of his own when "world" meetings had simply been Allied meetings. He remembered Italy once explaining how he had tried to do the same at Axis meetings, only to be immediately stopped by Germany. Poor boy.

Recently, France had conjured up a new game, though he did not plan on sharing the fun with anyone else. No, this enjoyment would belong to him and him alone- well, all right, perhaps America would enjoy it as well. A smile formed on his lips at the thought of the normally bold American blushing and stuttering, only for him, though the boy had likely done it for others in the past. Still, he was glad to have a claim on the nation for as long as possible, and one month was certainly a good start.

France was beginning to wonder if their current relationship had led to their seating arrangements, seeing as he was sitting beside America at the long, wooden table in the conference room. England had been rather annoyed by this fact at the beginning of the meeting, but he had calmed by the time Germany called order and began role call. Just the thought of ruffling that old rosbif Brit's feathers made him excited, which was precisely the foundation for that new game he had mentioned earlier.

See, England was not exactly accepting of France and America's relationship. Yes, he tolerated it for appearance's sake, but he clearly loathed it with every fiber of his being. England claimed it was because France was vile and should not be putting his hands all over America and spreading his froggy French germs. France claimed it was because England was jealous he had simply gotten the boy first. America tended to ignore the two when they argued over this, though his blush at being argued over (sort of) was always evident.

England especially went all shades of red and purple when he saw France showering America with "less than innocent" devotion and affection. Just one kiss on the cheek would send the man spluttering and nearly blowing a fuse. However, France wanted to try a different tactic today, something he knew would be far more enjoyable. He wondered...

How many times could he violate America's personal space before England caught him in the act~?

Now, France was the nation of love, and as such knew all forms of romance and sexual acts in their finest forms. He preferred to be flamboyantly open about this, but few realized he could also be infuriatingly subtle. How else could he have made beautiful love to America in the middle of that club they had visited a few nights ago? It was a seldom utilized talent that came in handy when it was needed- such as now.

The meeting was only a few minutes in, and Estonia was giving some kind of presentation on improving technology and communications and... well, France had his mind on something far more pleasant. Humming softly to himself, he decided to start his little game and allowed the hand closest to America to slide innocently off the tabletop. No one even blinked at the action, and France had to force himself to keep his face a calm mask as he pretended to pay attention.

Meanwhile, the appendage snaked down, breaching the gap between America and himself. He paused when his fingertips brushed the leather cushion of the chair, then dove right in like a pouncing leopard. Ah, there was that lovely rump of America's~

Said nation, whom had been taking a large gulp of his coffee, promptly choked on it and turned a lovely hue of red. France quickly retracted his hand from his boyfriend's backside, letting it rest on his thigh and not even glancing at the blond as he turned blue eyes onto him questioningly. When the American received no response, he scoffed and focused on catching his breath, Canada quietly asking if he was all right. Unfortunately, America paid Canada about as much attention as France had paid him, probably not even realizing the nation was there.

France was especially pleased to see England had barely spared the situation a glance, allowing himself a small smirk before his expression returned to the picture of placidity. He decided to wait a few minutes, allow America some time to relax again and- ah, there, he was slumping in his seat now. Probably because Estonia had suddenly jumped into a complicated explanation of some big wireless plan using satellites. Most would think America was daydreaming, never failing to underestimate just how intelligent he was. France knew, though, and he also knew the slouching was actually a sign that America was truly paying attention and simply thinking very hard, thus paying his body's actions no mind.

He felt a little guilty for interrupting and startling the American during one of these moments, but there was only so much time in a meeting and he had to squeeze in every opportunity he was given. So, as Estonia continued to drone on, France allowed his pen to roll away from his fingers and fall to the floor with a soft clacking sound. As he figured, America was too engrossed to notice, and France quickly ducked down under the table to "retrieve his pen." Whomever said he could not simply multi-task while he was down there~?

Forcing himself not to chuckle, one hand grabbed the pen, while the other snapped out like a cobra that had been waiting to strike. It was not much, just a bump of his fingers against America's crotch, but it was enough to make the man gasp and instantly squeeze his legs together. France nearly got his hand caught due to the action, but managed to pull away in the nick of time and straighten in his seat. He only spared America a glance and a subtle wink before he began scribbling in his notebook, as if quickly writing down whatever he had missed while retrieving his pen.

France could feel America's stare on the side of his head, but ignored it, even if the urge to look and see that adorable blush on the nation's face was incredibly tempting. Again, he heard Canada asking if his brother was all right, worry edging his voice. This surprised France a bit, seeing as the invisible country knew all about his Papa's plan...

After all, what was a truly great game without pawns?

France had... requested the aid of a few of his old colonies before the start of the meeting, and had been ecstatic when quite a few agreed to help. Among them were Canada, Seychelles, Monaco...

Oh, he had raised them well.

France returned his focus to the task at hand, just in time to realize Estonia had apparently finished his presentation. It was then England's turn, giving France yet another opportunity to gain more points for his game. He casually watched the nation stand and gather up his papers, following him with his eyes as he turned and headed up to the podium. With fuzzy brows' back to them, France wasted no time in leaning over and pecking America on the cheek. The blond turned a pretty shade of magenta at the action, staring at his boyfriend with slightly widened, questioning eyes.

He merely smiled and blew a kiss at the American, glancing back at the podium to see England now standing there, shuffling through his papers. There was a muttering of "where is the bloody thing" and "just had it," and then the ex-empire ducked down beneath the podium to fiddle with the computer there that controlled the slides for the projector. France spotted opportunity number four and took it gladly, leaning in to nip playfully at America's earlobe. The man squeaked and blushed an even darker color of pink, sending the Frenchman a half-hearted glare. However, France had already returned his attention to the front, no longer bothering to hide his smile as he watched England begin his presentation.

It was about halfway through when France decided it was time to call upon one of his colonies, shifting in his seat a bit so as to better see the African section of the table. He stared at Madagascar until she noticed him, then winked, the signal he had decided upon for his colonies: eye contact and a wink. The small, South African island nodded and prodded the ring-tailed lemur that always accompanied her. He heard the animal chitter softly before slipping to the floor, probably doing his best to squeeze between the legs of various nations.

Wait for it... wait for it... there!

England gasped as his neatly stacked pile of papers slid from the podium and to the floor, burying the lemur that had pulled them off. The nations whom had dozed off during the presentation snapped awake, while those whom had actually been paying attention either raised eyebrows in surprise or attempted to stifle their laughter. Even France had to chuckle at the sight of a red-faced England chasing off a lemur, and he could hear America laughing quite loudly beside him. He swiftly moved in and pecked the nation on the cheek, merely smiling when he was sent another questioning look.

"Madagascar, please, if you're going to bring an animal to the meeting room then keep an eye on it! Though, I suppose I can't expect much from one of the frog's colonies..." England muttered, returning to the podium and bending down to gather up the fallen papers. A few nearby nations got up to help, and France raised his score yet again by swooping over and stealing America's lips into a kiss. He could hear the groans and annoyed mutterings of a few countries, but paid them no mind as he took advantage of each second England had his eyes to the floor.

He pulled away the moment he saw the man rising again, leaving America blushing and open-mouthed, blue eyes a bit hazy. Oh, if only they were not in a meeting... still, he had to focus. England seemed to have lost his place, and Germany, seeing that most of the nations were practically unconscious from boredom, decided to call a fifteen minute break. There was a chorus of yawns and quiet mutterings as the countries stood and stretched, some getting up from their seats to stretch their legs or converse others at various spots in the room.

France, too, stood, and America followed, probably wanting to ask him about all of the random affection he was receiving. However, he did not even give the nation a chance, quickly moving to speak with Canada instead. He resisted the urge to at least spare the American a glance, knowing he had that ever infernal pout on his lips. As France half-paid attention to the conversation he was holding with Canada, he was delighted to see England call America over for a chat of their own. Perfect, it was time to really take a risk!

He continued to speak casually with Canada for a minute, then patted the boy on the shoulder, but not before giving him the signal. France quickly made his way towards the corner America and England had situated themselves in, the pair going over some papers. He slowed, waiting for the right moment, not wanting to tip the Brit off to his presence...

"E-England? England!" Canada suddenly called, waving an arm to get the man's attention. He managed to be loud for once, and England turned, raising a questioning eyebrow at the Canadian nation. France silently added another point to his score as he closed the distance between America and himself, stealing another kiss. He then kept walking, not even looking back as he smirked to himself.

This was far too easy~

France got his next chance around seven minutes into the break, when England had finally left America's side to speak with Japan about something. Grinning, he locked eyes with Monaco and winked, closing in on his boyfriend again as he did so. Without warning, the principality stuck out her foot and tripped the Englishman, sending him sprawling to the floor in a heap. As his old colony kneeled to help the man, apologizing quietly, France reached out and latched onto America. One hand shamelessly groped the superpower's lovely bottom, while the other tangled in his hair to mash their lips together a third time.

He heard America make a small noise of surprise- and perhaps pleasure?- before he broke away, offering the nation only a sly smile and a finger to his lips before moving away again. His poor boyfriend was left standing there, flushed, and wide-eyed, glasses slightly askew. Japan seemed to be holding his nose tightly with one hand, and Hungary was being scolded by Austria as she searched through her purse for her camera.

About a minute later Monaco cornered him and requested payment for her services, and France grudgingly gave her a twenty from his wallet. Really, she had become such a greedy little thing...

It was near the end of the meeting when France decided to really go all out and take a big risk. For this, he called upon the services of his lovely little Seychelles, sending her the signal as the nations whom had stood began making their way back to their seats. His petit chou gave him a grin and a salute, dragging the giant fish she tended to carry around with her off her back. France returned to America's side, and he chuckled softly as the nation actually tensed, clearly expecting him to do something now. Well, that took some of the fun out of it...

There was a sudden smack as the fish slapped England upside the head, sending him spiraling to the floor yet again. France despaired at the fact he had not seen the act, but focused instead on the blond before him. Without preamble, he pressed their bodies together, crushing America between himself and the wall as he initiated a bruising kiss. One of his legs slipped between the superpower's, eliciting a groan from the nation. He hummed happily, one hand running down America's chest, thoroughly enjoying this mini-make out session-

"What the bloody Hell are you doing?"

Merde. France had gotten so caught up in how wonderful America felt against him that he forgot all about England, so it was no surprise the nation freaked when he saw them in their current position. However, now that he had been caught and the game was over, he took his time pulling away from America. He turned, smirking at England and ecstatic to see the man had turned that glorious shade of beet red. "I am simply showering mon ange with love, rosbif~ Is that a problem?"

England clenched his fists, and those two bushy brows of his clumped together into one terrifying mass of fuzz. "Yes, it bloody well is, you damn wanker! Get those filthy French hands of yours off of him! You have some nerve to be so vulgar in the middle of a meeting!" he snapped, furious.

"But he's been doing it the whole time, aru. You just didn't notice," China piped up from his spot beside Japan, whom nodded his agreement while attempting to stem the blood flowing freely from his nose.

Ooh, now there was a shade of purple France had never seen on England.

He quickly grabbed America's wrist and dragged him to the door, chuckling all the way. "I do believe we should find some privacy, Alfred~! To the broom closet!"

"FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANCE!"

England would probably put the pieces together and realize the role France's colonies had played in his little game. France decided he would make it up to them later. For now, he owed America an explanation... one with benefits.

France: 7 England: 1

GAME OVER