Hey! It's my first story, so please don't be too harsh, and if anyone reviews I'll write another chapter ^_^

It's based in Gauken Hetalia, and will later contain mpreg, because the story works better that way... I've already got a good plot in mind.

I was walking to my next lesson with Francis; the corridor was still full of people, so we couldn't have been late. I was however irritated by his stupid grin that seemed to be plastered to his face "What is it?" I asked sharply, but it was difficult to intimidating to someone taller than one's self.

"Oh, it is nothing, Angleterre…" he said breezily as we walked through the hall. I frowned, he never just grinned about nothing. I felt awkward now, what if he was laughing at me, or if it really was nothing, and I'd just made myself look like an idiot. I quickly looked at him keeping my head level and just using my eyes. I was trying to figure out what was going through his frog brain.

"What is it?" I asked a little more firmly now.

"You'd be annoyed if I told you, Angleterre." He replied cheerfully as he always seemed to be. This made me frown even more. I knitted my brows together in frustration and irritation at Francis's stupidity.

"Just bloody tell me you frog!" I said raising my voice a little louder than I probably should have, when I saw a few heads turn. He just laughed his creepy French laugh and kept walking contentedly. As annoying as he was, and he was very annoying, he was also my best friend, and if there was something he wasn't telling me, it'd really annoy me… for a long time.

"You really want to know" he said with a hint of playfulness in his voice that made me want to roll my eyes in disgust. He was so annoying when he started playing these games.

"Just tell me, or so help me I'll turn you into a real frog…" If he kept on with this game I really would lose it with him.

"Well," he said still smirking like an idiot "I was thinking of ways to get you out of those tight trousers, is all." He was right I didn't want to hear that. I could feel myself going completely red under his gaze that had settled on me as he said it. I looked at my trousers; I guess they were a bit tight, but it was because I wanted to rebel against the world and show how different I could be. Not to entice horny French boys.

"Leave me alone you git!" I said loudly at him, having gone so long being speechless "Just piss off!" I walked ahead of him now, and hoped he wouldn't catch up, but catch up he did. I tried to move away from him until he trapped me against the wall. "Leave me alone!" I shouted feebly as his hands rested either side of me on the wall.

"Oh, but mon petit Angleterre, you wanted to know what I needed to say and now I 'ave said it. You can't angry avec moi." I hated it when he started butchering my language and mixing it with his, it was such an annoying habit. He was close to me now; I could feel his breath, warm against my face. I cringed back into the wall as he leant forward towards my face.

"I have to go to my locker!" I said suddenly barging past him. He may have been taller than me, but he wasn't stronger than me. I started sprinting towards my locker, trying to get away from the blasted Frenchman, but as I closed my locker after I'd gotten out my English book, because that's the lesson I had next, he was there. It seemed as if he'd been waiting behind the door, just to irk me. "Piss off!" I said loudly as he followed after me.

He grabbed my hand "Angleterre, why are you being like this?" as he did that, I tripped over my foot and went flying, pulling him with me. He was really off putting and I hated his habit of making me react like I always seemed to around him. I didn't know what it was, but something about him put me on edge.

As I landed painfully on the floor, I felt him land on top of me, and let out an "Oof" I tried to wriggle out from beneath him, but the damn Frenchman was too heavy, and I found myself pinned to the floor beneath him. "Francis… You're crushing me… Get off." I managed to say, while being suffocated by his presence.

"Oh, Pardon moi!" He said, as if the whole time he's spaced out, maybe he hadn't noticed that he was on top of me, it'd seem like a very him thing to do after all. He pulled himself up and held out a hand to help me. Needless to say, I didn't take it, nor did I say anything to him. He looked a little hurt when I didn't take his hand, but I didn't care. "What lesson is it now, Angleterre?" he said innocently, I knew he said that just to get me to talk to him, and I 'm sure he knew exactly what class we had, but none the less I'd given up on his games.

"We have English, something you ought to pay attention to!" I said sharply. His face broke into a smile again as he started walking; I followed behind, without thinking. After about a minute, I noticed something "Francis," he turned to face me "we're going the wrong way…" the corridors were emptying since I'd gotten to my locker, but now the school seemed like a ghost town. "We need to go." I said urgently, as I began to run. I forgot that idiot had the worst sense of direction in the world "You idiot!" I yelled back at him, as we ran. He was a bit slower than me, in most situations… including running.

We reached the classroom, and the teacher had already taken the register, thanks to that French idiot, we were going to be late. I bustled through the door and sat in an empty chair, and Francis followed, sitting in the only other available chair… next to me. I rested my head on the desk, as he took noted diligently, after he heard he was failing English. I, on the other hand, was doing exceptionally well in the subject, and so found little problem in taking a nap on the desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Skippy time skip of skippyness~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt myself being shaken awake by the Frenchman, who was telling me that the lesson was in fact over. I grabbed my bag and rushed out, so that we wouldn't be late, but just as we got halfway, I remembered. "I forgot my book!" I said and ran back to the classroom. Francis followed me, as usual. As we ran, for the second time that day, I yelled back at the Frenchman "Why didn't you tell me I forgot my book you idiot?" he just shrugged and kept running.

I got to the classroom and caught my breath; the frog was a moment behind me. I walked up to my desk; it was in the back corner of the class. I picked up my book and shoved it roughly in my bag.

Before I knew it his lips were against mine. I was shocked more than anything else, and although this feeling was alien and weird to me, having never kissed anyone, let alone frog face, it also felt right in some way. He broke away, and looked at me with hooded eyes, before he moved in again, this time much slower, as if to give me time to decline. I didn't, I neither accepted nor declined the kiss, I just stared back at his face getting closer and closer to mine.

This time I knew what was happening, and I tried to kiss back. I wasn't experienced at all though, so it must have been terrible for Francis, who seemed only to keen to get his tongue into my mouth as he licked my lips when we kissed. I knew though, that if I did open my mouth to him, I'd never be dominant, due to my inexperience. I couldn't allow myself to be dominated by Francy pants!

He broke away and stared at me deeply, yet again, as if he was trying to take in every detail of my face. His hands, which had been around my waist, were now pulling at my jeans, and trying to undo my trousers. "We're going to be late for our lesson" I said brusquely, trying not to appear too flustered. I picked up my bag, and noticed how hot my face felt. That's probably why he was staring so intently at me.

I saw no point in rushing, seeing as we were very late now and as I peered through the window of the class we were in, I noticed that the teacher had already gotten into the lesson, and everyone was taking notes. "Maybe we should just wait out here for the lesson to be over…" he said nervously. I rolled my eyes, he was ever the coward, and there was no other way to describe him.

"And I suppose we could just wait out here for the next forty five minutes…" I said dryly.

"I have a better idea, Angleterre." He pulled me into another kiss and wound his arms down to my jeans again. "Why don't we start where we left off… of course if you can promise to be quiet?" Promise to be quiet? What was he going on about now; it's rather hard to make any kind of noise when kissing.

"Yeah, whatever…" I said dryly as he continued playing with the button on my jeans. I saw his face take on a proud expression as he undid the jeans. Commenting on how it was harder to undo skinny jeans, because they were tighter. He pulled off my shoes and peeled, and I literally mean peeled, off my jeans. His breath seemed ragged as he pulled down his trousers and pulled down both of our underwear.

I hadn't realized, but I had somehow managed to get on the floor, which was cold against my unprotected skin. He leant over me and put his fingers in his mouth. What was he doing that for? I found out very quickly, as I felt him slide a digit into me. A gasped loudly, and he looked at me with an "I told you to be quiet" face. He moved his finger around inside of me, then without warning, inserted the second one. This time, I managed o stay quiet, but could feel myself growing hot, and my member growing hard.

He noticed this and grinned, as he pushed a third finger in, and I moaned shamelessly at the feeling. He then began thrusting them in and out of me in different angles until he hit a spot which made the world fade and I let out a gaspy moaning sound at the feeling. I was panting on the floor beneath him, in a corridor. If anyone were to walk past, or be sent out, they'd see us here, but I didn't care anymore, because I couldn't get enough of the sensation. I bucked my hips forward as I felt his fingers at that special place again and was mewling like some kind of whore as the sensation filled me.

He pulled his fingers out and I was left feeling empty. He manoeuvred me again so that my ankles were rested on his shoulders, and he could get better access to me. As he thrusted into me, I was being driven back by the force, so that only my upper back was on the cold clammy floor. The sensation was unbelievable; it was even better than when he was just using his fingers, and I had a really hard time keeping quiet. I bit my lip in concentration as I felt his hand begin stroking my shaft. I let out a guttural noise of bliss, as I felt myself getting closer and closer to my climax. He was hitting the sweet spot harder and harder now and I could hold back no more. My semen rocketed out and covered us both; with a few more thrusts, I felt the feeling of his inside of me, as he pulled out. I was lying on the floor, completely breathless and red in the face, as he pulled back on his underwear and trousers.

He offered his hand, which I took this time, and I pulled on my clothes. "We need to get cleaned up" he said flirtatiously. He took my hand and led me to the toilets, and when we were there, he got water and rinsed of my semen from his, then my own clothes. I went very red thinking about it, but the Frenchman seemed to notice my discomfort and said "You were very good Angleterre…" I think I could hear seduction in his voice, but I wasn't sure.

He went into a cubicle, and got some toilet roll "use this to clean yourself up, oui?" I nodded, still shocked and breathless from the feeling. I went into a cubical, and pushed the toilet roll into myself so that I'd not leak it in a later class, which would be more than a little humiliating. When I was satisfied, I pulled my jeans back on, and came out of the cubicle. Francis was there, looking odd. I couldn't place the emotion on his face, because I didn't think I'd seen it there before, but it looked like he was proud, but at the same time he wasn't being the cocky twat he usually was. I'd never seen that look on his face ever before.