Author's Note: This is just another short FrUK fic I wrote awhile ago. I can't remember why I haven't posted this yet. Oh well. I'd be really happy if I got a few comments on this. ^^

Imagine Person B of your OTP not letting Person A get out of bed by cuddling them.

Francis watched as the dust particles danced in the slither of sunlight that managed to creep it's way in between the wall and the curtain. It was 8am and the day had already promised it was going to be good. And not only was it sunny, but it was the weekend. Finally, after five mornings of waking up at ungodly hours of the day, he could finally stay in bed for however long he wanted watching the dancing dust particles.

Turning his attention from the dust particles, he looked down towards his lover who was sleeping soundly, his back facing him. Propping himself onto his elbow, he quietly watched him, noticing that he looked so cute and peaceful when he slept. Francis wished he was always like that instead of the stubborn Brit he was. Though, if he were to be honest, he'd much rather have his short-tempered, stubborn lover than a quiet and cute one.

Lazily, Francis moved his arm, snaking it around the other's waist and closing the gap between the two. He softly planted a kiss on the top of Arthur's head before he lay back down again. There, he stayed not wanting to move from the perfect position he'd gotten himself into. All was quiet, and peaceful and, well, felt like heaven.

Francis' train of though was interrupted, however, when he felt something move against his chest. Looking down, he saw that Arthur had turned and buried his head in the crook of his neck. Francis smiled a small but warm smile and brought his hand – the one that was on Arthur's waist – up to Arthur's hair, carefully running his fingers through it.

He'd been doing this for five or so minutes when Arthur began to stir from his peaceful slumber. Slowly but surely, Arthur started to wake up until his eyes finally fluttered open. Groaning, he turned so he could leave his position that he'd been in for the last five minutes and turned to lie or at least, half-lie on his back. His arm was brought up to his face to protect it from the light that was streaming into the bedroom.

Sighing, not liking the fact he was awake, he turned his head to the side to look at Francis who was also looking at him. "What are you looking at, frog?" Arthur said grumpily since he was never a morning person and always seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

"Good morning to you to, cher. I see that someone woke up in a mood today." Francis replied sarcastically, leaning his head on his elbow.

Grumbling a whatever as a reply, he began to sit up knowing that it would be near impossible to be able to fall back to sleep. So, instead, he might as well get the day started. That was until Francis wrapped his arms around his waist, yanking Arthur towards him.

"What the bloody hell frog?! I'm trying to get up!" he yelled, attempting to prise Francis' arms from around his waist.

"Non, you're not getting up. It's too early to get up."

"It's a perfectly reasonable time to get up. Now let me go goddammit!"

"Non, not unless you stay here."

Arthur sighed inwardly. A part of him wanted to stay in bed with Francis because it was warm and comforting but another part of him wanted to get up and start the day. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the part of him that wanted to stay in bed had become stronger and so he stopped trying to prise Francis' arms from his waist and lay down again. "Fine." he mumbled, rolling over so he faced Francis instead of having his back turned to him.

Loosening his grip on Arthur's waist, he propped himself up so he was above Arthur and leant forward and caught him in a tender kiss that made everything surrounding them, disappear. Breaking the kiss, Francis returned to his former position and said, with a warm smile on his face, "See mon cher, lying in bed is better than having to get up."

Arthur didn't want to look at Francis then because he knew he was smiling that smile and whenever he did, Arthur would practically melt and most likely say something he really didn't want to say. He did though, he swore it was by accident though that's probably a lie, and as predicted he melted. This time though, he didn't say anything stupid. He didn't actually say something at all since he couldn't string his words together no matter how hard he tried.

So, instead, he busied himself with getting comfortable which caused the small space in between them to close and Francis once again wrap his arms around his waist. Arthur did the same thing to Francis with the added touch of resting his head on his chest. The end product was that they were both lying comfortably and in warmth together.

They both though that the other was going to be the one to speak first and break the silence but neither of them did. And they were happy like that, just laying in each other's arms, not saying a word, being consumed by their own personal thoughts.

This was one of these moments where Arthur's feeling for Francis erupted. The warmth he felt in his chest that was so intense, was a kind of warmth that he wanted to keep forever, until the day he died. Oh, how he fell. How he fell into a love that seemed brighter and warmer than a thousand suns. Thinking about it made Arthur feel like a school girl who'd just been asked out on her first date by a boy who she had been crushing on for years. Not that he cared though, he didn't care for much when he had that warmth race through him.

Unknown to Arthur, this was exactly how Francis felt, even though at times he doubted it. Maybe that was because his self-esteem wasn't exactly the highest. That so, Francis felt the exact same way, with the same amount of passion and warmth coursing through his veins. Francis too, fell into a love that seemed brighter and warmer than a thousand suns.

"Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"Je t'aime."

"I love you too darling."