Warnings: Slight shotacon (Arthur is sixteen), smut/slash/sex/lemon/whatever you want to call it, rimming, slight language, and inebriation. If any of these are morally innacceptable to you, please do not read. Do not flame, either, because you have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.

A sixteen year old Arthur Kirkland sat at his desk, trying desperately to focus on his text book and drown out the music blasting through the house. He sighed frustratedly, crossing his arms over the book and resting his head on them.

His parents were out of town for the week, and he'd been shipped off to his older brother Alistair's nearby residence. Not only did Alistair not really like him at all, he was out of school already, and liked to throw huge parties every other night. Which is why Arthur was in his room. His brother's parties always included alcohol and his friends. Arthur wasn't technically (legally) allowed to drink, but he'd tried it once at a previous party of his brother's. He'd woken up in a bathtub, wearing nothing but a party hat, a Speedo, and a raging headache. Never doing that again. The other problem was Alistair's friends. Or more specifically his best friend, Francis.

Francis was nearly five years older than him and French. (French, for crying out loud! How could his brother be friends with a Frenchman?!) He had known Arthur since practically birth, and he'd been hitting on him for nearly as long. But it was all in passing fun, as Francis took a new bedmate almost every week. Arthur constantly insisted that he loathed him, hated him, but he was hoping that he was the only one who knew it wasn't true. He had a major crush on the other, so much so that he was tempted to say he loved the pervert. He'd gone so far as to have wanking sessions to fantasies of what Francis and all his experience could do to him.

He jolted up straight when he heard the music become louder as his door opened. Francis had the hand of some random party girl and was leading her giggling form into the room while he shot lovely sounding French at her. Francis stopped when he realized it was occupied. The girl pouted when he stopped talking, and frowned at Arthur for ruining what was apparently going to be a lovely evening for her.

"Get the bloody hell out of my room!" He demanded, standing and advancing to try and force them out. He was blushing profusely as he got closer, smelling wine and beer and realizing that Francis was drunk, but the girl was most definitely not. He separated their linked hands and pushed her roughly from the room, slamming the door in her face and locking it. God, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want the perverted rapist himself to get taken advantage of. And he certainly wasn't going to admit it to Francis.

Francis glared at him angrily, pushing the younger away from him abruptly. "What did you do zhat for?" He asked bitterly as he crossed his arms. His accent was becoming more pronounced as his words slurred with drunkenness. "I was going to 'ave a nice time wiz 'er!" He exclaimed.

"Not in my room, you weren't!" He explained irritatedly. "Francis, you are drunk out of your mind, and as much as I hate to say it, you are going to stay right in here and sober up so that those 'women' don't take advantage of you." Read: I'm not going to let you hook up because I'm jealous. Arthur sat on his bed, gesturing to the chair at his desk as he glared adamantly up at the other.

"Non. I zink," Francis said, moving slowly closer as his glare quickly turned into something more teasing, more knowing, "zat you are just jealous!"

Arthur flushed. Well wasn't that hitting the nail on the head? "Of course not, you twat! You're just drunk!" He protested, trying to cover it up and ignore the red hue that rose to his cheeks.

"Oui, you are, mon petit~" He cooed drunkenly, advancing on the smaller and leaning over him on the bed. "You would razzer me 'ave fun wiz you zan 'er, oui?" He questioned seductively, stubbled face pressed against the other's smooth one and his mouth right next to his ear.

"If I say yes?" He asked a little breathlessly.

"Zen I will 'ave no choice but to replace 'er." Francis responded.

Arthur grumbled, turning his face away. "I'm too young for this. It's not even legal," he muttered sourly.

"Non, non, not too young." He turned the other's face towards him as he straddled him on the bed. Staring into Arthur's emerald eyes, he murmured, "If you are old enough to want it, you are old enough to 'ave it."

A war was waging inside Arthur; his mind, body, and heart were all arguing with his morals and conscience. But it was three to two and after a moment he gave a small nod, not looking at the other. Almost immediately, he felt Francis's lips on his neck, kissing and sucking, and his stubble making him slightly itchy and uncomfortable. He still reeked of alcohol, but Arthur tried not to think about it. This was what he wanted, so he should be happy, right?

"Ah," he gasped involuntarily, feeling his body react to the other's ministrations. He felt Francis's fingertips against the skin under the edge of his shirt and slowly moving upwards. His lips were still at his neck, and he was surely making dark marks that Arthur would have to hide the next day at school and from his brother. If his brother found out. God, they'd both have hell to pay. He didn't so much care that it was Arthur, but that it was his best friend that was fucking him. As Francis's hands moved higher Arthur grew more and more antsy, not only from arousal, but a desperate need to know if this was a one time thing, if he was going to be left regretting giving himself up so quickly.

"Francis, Francis," he whispered, hands pushing against the other's through the fabric. "Francis," he said again, a tad more forcefully.

Francis stilled his lips, sitting up some on top of the younger boy to look dazedly at his face. "Oui, mon petit? What is it?"

Francis was slightly flushed, but he couldn't even begin to match the raging blush that had settled onto Arthur's face. "Are you- Will this happen again?" He asked unsurely. He didn't want to give himself, his virginity, to Francis, if this would mean nothing to the other.

"Arthur," Arthur just adored the way the Frenchman said his name. He made it sound intriguing and sensual. "You do not know 'ow long I 'ave waited to do zis. I zink, I might just be in love wiz you." He said carefully, slowly, tenderly, even through the haze of drunkenness.

Arthur smiled brightly, murmuring the same thing back before he pulled him down to kiss him. Alcohol made people honest, so he trusted, one hundred percent, that the other wasn't just saying that to appease him. It was, if he was to be honest, his first kiss. His mouth didn't even open until he felt Francis's tongue dart out of his mouth to try and get into Arthur's, and even then, it was to gasp his surprise.

Francis tasted of wine. That's was all that could be deciphered by Arthur's taste buds, that was the indicator of how drunk the other was. Arthur felt his tongue sloppily exploring his mouth. It was odd, having another person's tongue in his mouth. Odd, but not necessarily bad, he supposed.

Francis's hands were quickly back up his shirt, tweaking his nipples teasingly to hardness. Arthur tangled his hands into too long, golden hair, pulling lightly and massaging Francis's scalp in approval. "Nnh." He was moaning into the older man's mouth. He moved his hands from Francis's hair to his shirt. Nothing was going to progress if they didn't start shedding their clothes, and Arthur preferred it be done quickly. "Off," he muttered as Francis moved his lips back to his neck. Francis seemed all too happy to oblige, but he took Arthur's shirt off instead. Arthur continued to work at the other's groaning and all but giving up when Francis started sucking on his soft spot.

Finally he got the damned shirt off and was left to caress Francis's slightly hairy back as the Frenchman started kissing lower. Soon enough, he was at Arthur's waistband, and Arthur could fell him moving the too tight material down his legs to reveal a rather embarrassing erection. He squished his eyes shut, not wanting to see what the Frenchman would do to him. He felt his boxers soon removed too, and he blushed at being completely bare in front of Francis.

Francis had one thigh over his shoulder, kissing slowly inward towards his erection. He felt a kiss to his head and then something wet was poking at his entrance. He clenched up, completely caught off guard. He stared down in shock as he felt Francis's tongue press into him. His back arched and he fought the urge to shut his legs and protest the intrusion. Francis keeping his hands massaging his thighs was certainly helping.

Gawd, that was a feeling. Sure Arthur had fingered himself before, but that was nothing compared to that hot, smooth appendage inside of him. And he never had been able to find that one- "AH!"- that one spot that had him seeing white at the edges of his vision, even though his eyes were closed. His breath was quickly dissolving into harsh panting and he didn't have time to think about what he was saying anymore. He arched his back against the bed, trying to gain some leverage against the feeling of ecstasy coursing through him as Francis did marvelous things to him with his tongue.

"Fwah, Francis." After a few more moments of Francis stroking his insides so pleasantly with his tongue, he felt it withdraw. He whined at the loss. Looking down, he saw Francis removing his own trousers and smirking smugly. Arthur was glad to see that he wasn't the only one with an erection, though. But that was, well, large. Was that supposed to go in him? Because it wasn't going to fit, he could tell you that right now.

"Do you have lube?" Francis asked, eyebrows up apprehensively.

"Well, I have lotion, that I use to-" He blushed even more, turning his already pink cheeks cherry red, and got out the small bottle. He handed it to Francis. This was going to hurt, he could tell. He watched Francis slick up a couple fingers, nervously. Francis penetrated him, and he had to say, that it wasn't as bad as he thought. Until he started scissoring, and then there was a little bit of pain added to the pleasure that was building in his stomach. Francis found his prostate again, and it had Arthur writhing against the sheets. He pushed back against the fingers, eager to get them deeper. He whined again in frustration when they were removed, but when he saw Francis lubing himself up, he shut up and waited anxiously.

"This is your first time, non?" Francis asked seriously, lining himself up with Arthur's prepared entrance and leaning over him to kiss him.

Arthur nodded against Francis's lips. He winced as Francis started sliding in slowly, tears coming to his eyes at the immense pain.

"Come on, you 'ave to relax, or it will 'urt even more!" Francis murmured. He stroked Arthur's sex to help him get more comfortable and sucked on his sweet spot. Allied with the double stimulation, Arthur groaned and forced himself to relax his tense and nervous muscles. Francis was right though, he felt quite immensely better when he did. He panted at the effort of staying still and adjusting once Francis was all the way seated inside of him. As soon as the pain ebbed to a dull ache, he pushed against him.

"Move, Francis, please," he ordered softly. Francis obliged, starting a slow pace that soon had Arthur itching for more. He was practically overwhelmed by sublime pleasure at the friction and occasional brushes against his hot button. "Faster!" He'd been meeting the leisure thrusting, keeping pace easily and he was ecstatic when he felt Francis speed up and start to let loose. "Nngh, gah, Francis! Yes, please, more," he begged. He couldn't be bothered to string together full sentences.

The pace was set brutally, and Arthur clawed at the sheets, fisting his hands in them. His unabashed moans were mixing with the music that seemed to have grown louder as the pleasure increased. Francis was pounding against his prostate and sending sublime waves of burning euphoria scorching through his veins. It only increased when he felt a hand pumping his cock in time with the wild thrusting.

"Dieu, Arthur, so tight," Francis muttered in approval as he latched onto the junction of Arthur's neck and shoulder.

"Francis, ah, I'm going to-" Arthur met him thrust for thrust, bucking his hips wildly. He was on cloud nine when he came moments later, blinding himself momentarily and spattering his stomach and chest with gooey white cum. Francis milked him to completion and Arthur lay spent and trying to catch his breath. He vaguely felt a warm burst of sensation inside of him a few thrusts of Francis's hips later. He groaned.

Francis pulled out carefully and collapsed on the bed next to him shortly afterwards. "Arthur, zat was magnificent." When he'd finished panting and caught his breath, he reached over to the nightstand for tissues. He wiped Arthur down as best as he could and then sighed. "Arthur, I love you."

It shocked Arthur still, to hear him say it flat out. "I love you too," he said, yawning. "But I don't know how often we'll be able to do that if it leaves me this tired afterwards." He curled into Francis's side, shutting his eyes.

Francis wrapped his arms around him and kissed his slightly damp hair. "Well, your bruzzer has a party every ozzer day..." Francis murmured slyly.

"Mmm, we'll see about that. Get the light," Arthur murmured back tiredly.

A/N: Yay! Productivity! And FrUk! I had half of this sitting on my computer for like, a month, and I really was smacking myself for not finishing it. I'm stupid like that. Really, this was just an excuse to write some bad smut. Anyway, review and favorite if you want, but please don't follow this. I won't be adding anything else to it, as it is a ONE SHOT. Ankthay orfay eadingray, Al.