Author's note: Here's the last chapter! I am working on an omake though, so keep a look out for that once I finish it ^^ I like how this fic went from shameless smut to fabulous fluff in just 3 chapters. That's skill (lolnotreally). I had to give France another cameo in this because his "friendship" with England is always fun to write, especially when he's all "ZOMG YOU GOTS LAID?" XD So enjoy and thanks for reading~


Accidentally In Love

Chapter 3


3 months later…

Arthur could hear the phone ringing from his kitchen and hurriedly cleaned his hands off before rushing to grab it. He lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

"It's me!" came the cheery reply.

A nervous smile and a blush arose on his face when he realized who it was. "Hi."

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No. Nothing important. I was just making myself dinner."

"Oooh. You didn't overcook it, did you?"

"It's perfectly fine!"

"That's what you said about the pasta you made that one time. But it was all burnt."

Arthur felt himself not offended, but rather enjoying Feliciano's words. They hadn't properly seen each other since the meeting in France but had been calling each other almost every week for the past few months.

"I'm sorry my cooking doesn't meet with your approval," he said with a smirk.

Feliciano laughed. "I'll cook for you the next time we see each other."

Arthur frowned and sat down at his table. "And…when do you think that will be?" He didn't want to sound anxious. They were trying out this relationship and he didn't want to rush things, as he had told Feliciano, but he couldn't help it. He was attached; He liked Feliciano. And he was surprisingly a good conversationalist when not talking about food.

"Oh. Um. Did you have a date in mind?" If Arthur didn't know any better, he'd say Feliciano sounded just as nervous and anxious as he did.

"I didn't," he sighed. "But…I want to see you." Only being able to hear your voice is like torture.

There was a pause. Then, "Next week."

"Next week what?" His heart thumped excitedly.

"I'll fly to London."

If Arthur had been anyone else, he might have fist-pumped. "T-That's wonderful. Are you sure you can get a flight on such short notice?"

"I'm well connected."

Arthur smiled into the phone, though the other couldn't see. "I can't wait."

"Me neither. Oh, I have to go now, Arthur. Fratello's mad at me. Ciao!" The line went to the dial-tone, but Arthur couldn't get the goofy grin on his face to disappear the rest of the night.


He was going through his house doing a mass cleanup a few days before Feliciano was scheduled to arrive. He was sure Feliciano wouldn't care if the embroidery was out of place, or that his record collection wasn't in order. But he felt this need to impress, even though he knew Feliciano cared about him enough to not care if he was messy or not.

A knock on his front door startled him. Looking up from dusting his sofa, he sighed, and went to see who it was. He was surprised and angry to see a familiar Frenchman on his doorstep. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"What? No 'hello, how are you'?" Francis looked hurt. Arthur just stared at him and crossed his arms over his chest. Francis sighed before saying, "I am here on behalf of Antonio."

"Oh?"

"Oui. He told me to tell you that he will find his old battle axe and severe your head from your shoulders if you hurt the little Italian."

Arthur snorted. "Did he now?"

"That made sense to you? I was quite confused when he told me that. What little Italian is he referring?" Arthur looked away and coughed. Francis' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Have you been keeping things from me?"

"Idiot, I keep everything from you."

"Do not lie, mon ami," he growled. "Tell me who it is."

"You claim to be a master at this sort of thing. Figure it out yourself."

Francis sat down on his newly dusted couch. He got a thoughtful look on his face before his eyes widened. "Non…you do not mean…?" Arthur's face turned red. "You and…Feli?"

"It's not what you think!" Francis raised an eyebrow. "Well, fine, it is. But…but we're not that serious. We haven't seen each other since we were in France for the meeting and all we've been able to do is call each other every week and now he's coming to visit next week and I'm bloody nervous and-hold on, why are you laughing?"

Francis tried to stifle his laughs but to no avail. "I am laughing because it is incomprehensible. You. In a relationship. With Feliciano, of all people."

"Are we really such an odd pair?" Arthur's bottom lip jutted out as he pouted.

"Well he is so very, hmm, happy. And you are, well, you."

Arthur raised his fist. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Francis put his hands up in defense. "C'est mignon."

The Brit's eyebrows scrunched up. "Really…?"

Francis smiled and stood up. "I am happy for you, Arthur." He pulled Arthur into an awkward hug, one the Englishman did not return.

"Happy…for me?" he asked as he pulled away.

"Oui." Francis ruffled his hair playfully, which made him scowl. "I think being with him will be good for you."

Arthur chuckled then. "We'll see."


On the day of Feliciano's arrival, Arthur found himself stuck in his room, trying to decide on the best outfit to wear to the airport. "Oh bugger, he won't care if I'm in a suit or not," he mumbled to himself as he paced around the room. Sweatervests and pants were thrown about as he stood in his boxers. He groaned and grabbed the first shirt and pants he could find before pulling them on.

He didn't even realize he was wearing a "Dumbledore Lives" shirt until a few teenage girls smiled in his direction at the airport and gave him the thumbs up. Now feeling embarrassment on top of anxiety and nervousness, he paced back and forth at the gate Feliciano had said he'd be arriving at.

A familiar voice broke through his thoughts. "Arthur!" He turned and smiled, seeing Feliciano walking towards him, rolling a suitcase behind him. Arthur stopped himself from doing the cliché running forward and kissing the Italian breathless sort of thing as he had seen in some of Alfred's movies; even though he really wanted to.

Feliciano stopped in front of him before launching himself into his arms. He kissed Arthur three times on his cheeks in greeting and then snuck a kiss on his lips with a wink. "H-How was your flight?" Arthur asked, face turning pink.

"It was long~ But I'm happy I'm here now!"

"M-Me too."

Feliciano smiled and took hold of his hand as they walked towards the exit. Arthur felt his nervousness come full-throttle. The drive back to his house was even more nerve-wracking. Feliciano was content to sing and hum along to a catchy tune while Arthur wondered if having the Italian over was such a good idea after all.

Once they had entered the house, and Arthur had locked the front door, he turned around and found Feliciano inches from his face. "Oh," he murmured in alarm.

Feliciano cocked his head to the side. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"N-No. Of course not."

"Liar. I know when you lie, Arthur."

Arthur gulped. "I'm just-Now that you're here-"

"Now that I'm here what?"

"I don't…I'm not very good at this sort of thing…"

He was surprised when Feliciano giggled and pulled him down onto the sofa. They sat together while Feliciano caressed his palm. "Do you think I would be here if I cared how good or not good you are?"

"I'm sorry. I just…I want everything to be perfect."

A hand caressed his cheek. Feliciano leaned closer and kissed him, softly; reassuringly. Arthur kissed back with more vigor, bringing his hands up to cup the Italian's face and help lower him onto the cushions. Feliciano let out a moan, which went right to Arthur's groin. He kissed along his jaw before moving down to his neck.

"I've missed you," he breathed out. "So much."

Feliciano smiled and brushed a hand through the other's hair. He wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down so that their foreheads touched. "Anche io, il mio amore," he whispered. "Anche io."


Translations:

French:
C'est mignon - It's cute
Italian:
fratello - brother
Anche io, il mio amore. Anche io - Me too, my love. Me too.

If the Italian's wrong, tell me. I'm not a native speaker.

Also, Spain knows all. :I

Okay, actually Romano told him. "THAT STUPID EYEBROW BASTARD WON'T LEAVE FELI ALONE SDKSFJDKFD D8"