Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

So, guess who had an ounce of inspiration and decided to write something for you? XD

Please, enjoy~

Arthur sighed in irritation as he heard the automated message telling him the 'number he was trying to reach was unavailable' and he ended the call. He was stood outside Francis' house and had knocked three times before calling him.

The bloody frog isn't answering his phone.

The Englishman shifted his weight from one foot to another, wondering what to do. He wasn't going to go all the way back to England now, and besides, he had finished all his paperwork early just so he could visit the Frenchman.

A thought occurred to Arthur, and he tried the gate that led to the garden and the pool Francis had been bragging about for a while. It was unlocked, and Arthur pushed it open triumphantly.

He stepped onto the patio tiles that formed the steps down to the pool. It was nice, surrounded by rocks and plants that made it look more natural, but that wasn't the sight Arthur found himself admiring. Francis sliced through the water like a professional, moving so elegantly that Arthur couldn't help but watch. He didn't want to interrupt the Frenchman, so instead he made his way down towards the edge of the pool, standing at one end in line with the path Francis was making.

The Frenchman finally sensed he was near the end of the pool and slowed, raising his head for breath, and gasped in surprise as he saw familiar, lace-up shoes, polished almost to military standards, and let his eyes travel upwards until he was met with beautiful green eyes, shadowed by bushy eyebrows, and didn't miss the smirk on Arthur's face.

"Bonjour, mon cher~" Francis wiped his face with a hand to brush away any stray water droplets and grinned up at his unexpected guest.

"You weren't answering your phone, frog." Arthur didn't return the grin, but Francis knew the Englishman well enough to recognise the underlying greeting.

"I don't usually make a habit of texting while swimming~" Francis propped himself up on the metal bar that served as assistance to get out of the pool, but didn't bother to leave the water any further.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the accent dripping with sarcasm, but allowed a small smirk to grace his features.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The Frenchman reached for his towel, wiping his face with it, but again not bothering to get out of the pool. However, Arthur was having trouble concealing his blush as it was. He had caught a glimpse of Francis' bare chest as he had retrieved the towel, and now he hardly knew where to look.

He didn't respond, making Francis raise an eyebrow. "Oh, I get it. You missed me so much you just had to come over and – " Arthur threw Francis' jeans at him, which had obviously been placed there earlier with the intention of being worn again but were now drifting to the bottom of the pool.

"Arthur!" Francis exclaimed, but he wasn't particularly annoyed. At least they weren't a particularly special pair of jeans. "Is that your way of telling me you don't want me to get dressed?" he teased, watching Arthur's face flush pink.

"Shut up! It was your own fault." Francis noticed how Arthur wasn't looking at him, and he reached forward, grabbing Arthur's hand. The Englishman shrieked rather indignantly and Francis smirked.

"W-What are you doing?" Arthur tried to pull his hand away, but Francis grip was strong, and he felt a tug before he realised he was falling into the pool. He let out another yelp and squeezed his eyes shut, hearing a splash and feeling the water all around him, drowning him.

Francis had never let go of him, and wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist to support him, though he wasn't entirely expecting what came next. Francis felt a sting on his cheek as Arthur slapped him, furious.

"What the hell?! You don't just do something like that!" The Englishman screamed at him, and Francis frowned in confusion.

Why is he getting so upset?

"Calm down, mon cher. I have some spare clothes – "

"You idiot!" Arthur squirmed in his grasp, but then suddenly stopped and clung to the other man instead.

"Arthur?" Francis was confused. He thought Arthur was mad at him, but he had stopped fighting against him.

"Don't let go of me." The other man mumbled, but Francis understood what was wrong.

"I'm sorry, mon cher. I thought you could swim…" he held Arthur more firmly, trying to reassure the Englishman, but he only clung to him more tightly.

"Yes, well…you shouldn't assume such things, should you?" Arthur's tone was bitter, but quiet, afraid Francis would let go of him. "Stupid frog…" he muttered under his breath, but the Frenchman heard it.

"Oui, I am a stupid frog. Désolé, Arthur, really…" This made Arthur look up at Francis, and their eyes met. Francis had always thought Arthur had beautiful eyes, he had just never told him so out loud.

Before he could think about it, he pressed his lips against Arthur's, wanting to kiss him as he had for such a long time. He was more than astonished when he felt Arthur's lips moving against his, and hesitant arms wrapping around his neck.

Arthur is….kissing me back?

His eyes had fluttered closed and he pulled Arthur closer, now feeling the other man's chest through his soaked shirt. He didn't want the moment to end. If they could just stay like this, no explanations needed. No awkward vows not to speak of it again. But he knew it would happen, and felt saddened when Arthur pulled back.

He dared to open his cerulean eyes, to find Arthur gazing at him with an expression he had never seen before, but he knew it exactly what it meant. His green eyes had softened, allowing an emotion to creep onto his features that he had always hidden carefully before.

Love, possibly? Or just confusion? Misunderstanding…maybe Arthur just felt like he had to go along with me. Why? To be polite, probably. Gentlemanly…

These thoughts hurt Francis and he desperately wanted to push them away, but they kept nagging at him as he returned Arthur's dumbfounded gaze with one of apology.

But his heart leapt when Arthur was the one to lean in again, this time pulling Francis closer. The Frenchman was shocked, but found that he returned the kiss with longing, desperate for this to be something that wasn't just spontaneous.

He had loved Arthur ever since they were children, he just hadn't recognised it as such until recently. But as soon as he acknowledged his feelings towards the other man, they plagued him with an urge to be near Arthur, just to talk to him, maybe accidentally brush him as they passed each other. Anything to have his attention just for a moment.

And now…now this wonderful sensation as Arthur kissed him!

They pulled back again, and this time Arthur smiled. Not a smirk or a mocking, teasing smile, but a genuinely happy smile. The one Francis loved the most.

He opened his mouth to speak but Francis lifted a finger, pressing it to his lips to stop him. He shook his head, not wanting words to speak louder than their actions. Arthur didn't yell at him for once, removing the Frenchman's finger from his lips, before kissing him again.

For once, they weren't going to let words complicate things. For once, it was just the two of them, in the pool in the privacy of Francis' garden, with the sun setting and casting a warm, amber glow on the shimmering surface of the water.

A/N: I had this idea and thought it was cliché but then I realised that no one had done it with FrUK (to my knowledge) so I decided to~

Please review!