Hi! Thanks for getting this far! I'm still alive, I hope this is fluffy enough for you. I honestly think I lost my sense of humor, but this is a FrUK fanfiction, thus by definition, it will be amazing. I hope you laugh! Review please. It makes me happy.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned Hetalia.

Arthur knocked on the door. I already know he isn't going to take this seriously. I should've just asked to switch partners when I had the chance. Ugh, but there was not a snowball's chance in Hell that I was letting that Bella bitch take him. Who the fuck does she think she is?

"For your literature assignments, I want you to work in pairs. Your job is to give a thorough analysis on the document that your team will be assigned. You both will interpret it your own way, then switch papers and try to understand how the other saw what he or she saw."

A blonde girl in the front row, Bella, raised her hand. The teacher noticed this and immediately called on her.

"Are we allowed to choose our partners?" she asked with a seemingly innocent smile.

"I don't see why not," the man shrugged.

"In that case I choose Francis," she stated too quick for the teacher to even blink. Francis was sitting at his desk, twirling his hair in his right hand absentmindedly. He turned over to Bella with a soft smile.

"I already asked him," Arthur said, not thinking. Confusion filled the French teen's face. He simply chuckled to himself, grinning smugly.

"Oui, pardon Bella, mais, on peut travailler ensemble le prochaine fois."

That's right, bitch. Go find someone else's boyfriend to ste- Did I just mentally call him my- Nope. Never happened. You hear that brain? These thoughts, never happened.

Francis scribbled something down on a piece of scratch paper, folded it , and handed it over to the Brit.

We can work on it tomorrow after school. Come over to my room at 5pm. Don't wear too much clothing, it'll only get in the way. Don't be late.

At the bottom of the note, Francis' name was written in a heart. Bloody frog.

Arthur fixed the strap on his laptop case as the door opened. I knew it. Francis was standing there, shirtless. The frog only ever has one thing on his mind! I don't fuck around with my grade you git!

"Where the fuck is your shirt?"

"I took it off," Francis stated plainly. "Why are you wearing so much?"

"Because, unlike you, I prefer to look decent in public!"

"Just come in and start undressing." Francis started walking down to the table in the center of the room.

Angered, Arthur slammed the door behind him on his way in. "What the Hell do you take me for? Your own personal stripper? That is not why I agreed to be your partner!"

"Tell me, why did you agree to be my partner? Hmm? Everything I do infuriates you for some reason. I feel like the reason you asked me to work with you, is so that you'd have more time to reprimand me." Francis sat down at the chair in front of his laptop. He tied up his hair and put on a pair of glasses. "I don't fuck with my grade mon cher. Unlike you, I can separate business from pleasure."

Glasses? Was he trying to look hotter than he already was? What did he just say? Who does he think he's talking to? Can't separate business from pleasure? I know why I'm here! You think you're so fucking distracting. I'll have you know I only spent half this conversation staring at your chest! It's called self-control. Yeah... Why is it so hot?

"It's like a million degrees in here," Arthur stated pulling out a chair for himself, setting up a station for him to work.

"Like I was trying to tell you earlier," Francis began, fixing his glasses, not looking away from his screen.. "The A.C. in this building is broken. So I strongly suggest that you remove at least one of your five layers of clothing. Sitting there looking like a fucking eskimo, I mean really."

Arthur glared as he watched the French teen type away. The blond didn't seem fazed by this because he just continued to type away. As Arthur stripped down to his undershirt, he glanced at the other boy to make sure he wasn't watching. He wasn't. Is he ignoring me? Is he trying to prove a point? I'll prove a fucking point! After folding his clothes properly, he moved his chair next the Francis'.

"I already wrote my analysis before I got here," Arthur smiled. He always liked to be a step ahead.

Francis looked up and stared at the Brit for a moment. "I emailed you my analysis yesterday. I've been working on a research paper for Environmental Science this entire time."

What? I didn't get any- Arthur opened his email and noticed the message from Francis- oh.

"Send me what you've got and I'll go over it."

Who put you in charge anyway? Huh? I bet you made some girl to write your analysis for you. Yeah, that's the only way you could've finished it so quickly.

Arthur emailed his document and began to read Francis'.

He definitely didn't write this. He compared Frankenstein's monster to Adam instead of the fallen angel? He's claiming that it's Victor's fault that the events that transpired did. Normal, but who would've argued that Victor's ambition wasn't the problem, but Victor's thirst for knowledge? I suppose one could say that Victor's plan from the start was immensely flawed, but... why did he think of that and not me?

Arthur felt Francis' knee brush against his. The Brit froze. He had absolutely no idea how to react.

He just sat there.

Wide-eyed.

Because of one accidental touch.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked over at Francis. What the fuck is he doing to my paper?

"What do you think you're doing?"

Francis shifted his eyes so that he could see Arthur, but he never actually moved his head. "Fixing your work."

"Why on Earth, would I need you of all people to correct my work? My writing is impeccable."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Maybe sometimes, but you wrote this far too fast. It's riddled with simple grammar mistakes such as the use of a comma when there were supposed to be periods, or the same word written twice in a row."

Arthur sat there, awestruck.

"Maybe if spent less time getting dressed and more time checking your work, this wouldn't have happened."

Francis finished the paper and lowered his laptop screen. Arthur glanced at him, typed up his final words and saved the file.

"Are you finished?" asked the French teen, watching the Brit put away his things. Arthur nodded.

"You?"

"Yep."

"Cool, just email it to me and I'll print it out for tomorrow."

Maybe I was wrong about the Frog. I guess he's actually pretty smart

"Sure." They sat there awkwardly. I should probably go, the English boy thought, but Francis looked like he wanted to say something so he waited a little longer.

I suppose he doesn't have the one track mind I thought he did.

"Ok then, now we can get on the real reason I invited you," he began, getting Arthur to look him in eyes. "Let's have sex."

I supposed too soon.

A/N: I just made up the Frankenstein analysis. So let's not judge that part. Ok? Anything else, review, just please don't be mean about it.