The moon illuminate the streets of paris making the frosty ground shimmer like gems. The world meeting was in france the country of love but England wasn't feeling it. Hh stood on a balcony looking out, wine glass in hand. A familiar soft hand crept around his waist. He was invited for what was suppost to be a run over of the mmetings notes but turned out to be a date night orchestrated by France. He had agreed to marry France to help his economy earlier that evening well not so much as agreed as forced.

Now he was looking out at the view with a warm breath on his neck. England wouldn't admit it but the feeling of his childhood friend being so close brought up so many new feelings perhaps this city was wewring of on him. He turned to look at France resting on the railing. There eyes met for a momement before Francis took Authur's face in his hand abd whispered lovingly "You truly are handsome aren't you mon amour" he added "I hope you didn't think I married you for political interest." England blushed profusely taken aback by his partners sudden exclamation. He opened his mouth to reply but was greeted by a soft pair of lips caressing his own.

France picked England up bridal style, their passionate embrace unfaltering. He was placed on top of pristine and fluffed duvets. France was ina position where it looked like he was straddling England, sweat beaded on his forehead as he pulled away from the kiss. His hands moved with skill and fluency as he unbuttoned his partners trousers. They lay naked on top of each other, their bodies moulding together in a jumble of limbs and moans. France nipped lightly at England's collar bone who replied by digging his finger nails further into France's smooth flesh. His hands moved down further onto England's hips teasingly before moving closer and envelenveloping England in pleasure. They laid tangled in the covers gasping for breath. Finding themselves unable to stop smiling from the pure ecstasy of each others company.