Fraternity or Love

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the characters! Just this story! And sorry for any OOC

Lie Back and Think Of England

Setting(s): Francis' House, Airport, Plane, Arthur's House, Scott's House

"Happy birthday, Frog."

Arthur said in a stoic way to the Frenchman. It had been about ten days since he left America and came to France with Francis. This bloody place was getting on his nerves but he did say he would stay here with Francis until his birthday was over. Only one more day.

Arthur was sitting down on the Frog's beautiful couch in his lavish living room. Though he would never say that out loud! He would never let Francis know he thought his house was appealing in any way.

Francis looked over to Arthur and rolled his eyes, sarcasm in his voice,

"Oh thank you, Angleterre. You are so kind to me on my birthday."

The Briton looked down at the floor, shrugging, not in the mood for a fight. Actually, all of these days, he has yet to get into an argument with Francis. He has been walking around in a depressed manor, barely talking to the older blond, except for a casual insult, and keeping to himself more than usual.

But, this was to be expected. Just over a week ago when he left America, he had to also leave his boyfriend- Or, as it would be now, ex-boyfriend, to return to England to try to get back to his normal self.

But, it wasn't easy. The day he left made it harder to leave. Maybe it was because of the kiss? Maybe it was because of guilt? Or, maybe he really was losing it and it was best he left.

Francis walked over to Arthur and sat next to him, wrapping his arm over the Brit's shoulders and leaning his head against him. Arthur didn't do anything, he just kept his gaze on the floor. The older blond sighed, asking,

"Anything I can do for you, mon ami?"

Arthur was silent for a moment before he looked at and pushed Francis away from him, standing up,

"First of all, I told you, don't touch me. Secondly, no. Just go off and be a pervert around someone else. Enjoy your bloody party. I'm fine."

Francis gave him a skeptical look,

"Really, Angleterre?"

"Oui. Now go talk to some of the other Frogs here."

Francis stood up as well, looking around his extravagant foyer then down the hall to where most of his other guests were. With a sigh he placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, saying quietly,

"I know you miss him, but this was for the best. You said so yourself-"

Slapping the hand off of him, he yelled,

"I know I said that! Just drop it and bugger off!"

Arthur glared at the Frenchman, ready to go up the spiral staircase to his room and so the bloody annoyance would leave him alone. As he was about you yell at him though, he noticed two people behind them in the hallway's entrance watching.

Arthur looked away and walked towards the staircase and said to Francis,

"Je vais au lit. Ne me dérangez pas. Bonne anniversaire...*"

(*I'm going to bed. Don't bother me. Happy birthday...)

Then he walked up the flight, but, before he was out of hearing distance, he could hear those two guys saying to Francis,

"Est-il votre nouveau copain?*"

(*Is he your new boyfriend?)

"Il semble fougueuse!*"

(*He seems feisty!)

Arthur gasped quietly, aggravated by those comments. He didn't even want to hear what Francis' reply would be. So instead he ran the rest of the way to his room. He flew through the door and slammed it shut. He rested against it for a moment, just trying to calm himself down.

He shook his head, confused, mad, nervous, so many different emotions going through him at once. Tomorrow he was going to get on the next plane to England to talk to his father and just try to "regulate". But, he was, honestly, scared. He didn't know how to tell his father he was gay, he didn't want to be hit after that. Though he has already had worse.

Arthur looked down at his wrists and frowned at the scars. Bloody American... It's his fault.

But... it isn't... It's Arthur's fault for going to far... He...

Arthur noticed he was crying at that point. He brought his hand to his eyes and, after a moment, fell to the floor, sobbing.

His life was a mess so far! He didn't deserve it either! He tried to be a good son to his father, a good brother, a good friend to his peers(the few he had), and a good partner to his boyfriends and girlfriend... He didn't deserve this...

Arthur shook his head, standing back up and stripping out his clothing into his boxers to go to sleep. He shouldn't wallow in self pity... He just needs to get over it, he has told himself this before.

Slipping in under the covers, Arthur wiped away his tears and tried to sleep.

That however was very hard when you have a sex crazed Frog in the same house.

xXx(Next Day, Airport)

"I'm coming with you, Angleterre. Et vous ne pouvez pas m'arrêter.*"

(*And you can't stop me.)

Arthur glared at Francis,

"No. I already told you that I am going back to England alone. Got it, you wanking Frog? And it's your father's business trip, not yours."

The blue eyed blond glared back,

"Even though we don't like each other, I'm not letting you go back to ton père alone. What if he hurts you? Where would you have to go? Vos frères?* Do you think they'd take you? Well... Scott might, but he lives in Scotland now, doesn't he?"

(*Your brothers?)

Arthur turned his glare to the floor of the French airport, acknowledging what he was told, though he wouldn't let the Frenchman know he took into consideration.

Instead he just started to walk towards his plane, not saying anything to Francis who luckily understood what he meant. He started to follow Arthur and put his luggage in the conveyer belt. Then they made their way for the plane to bring them both to England.

xXx(On Plane)

"So, Angleterre... What are you going to say to him?"

Francis and Arthur sat next to each other, they had to while Francis' father sat closer to the front, and had been discussing what they, Arthur, would tell his father. The Briton has been looking out the window for the whole flight. Lazily turning his head over towards the Frenchman, he said,

"Why should I tell you? It's not like you are going to be in the room when I tell hi-"

Arthur let out a yawn and stretched. Francis tilted his head to the side,

"Why are you tired?"

Arthur turned a glare to him,

"It's not easy to sleep when you have some Frog having sex in a room next door! I couldn't sleep through that!"

"You have before though, haven't you?"

"No! And I don't want to hear a bloody Frog having sex!"

Francis chuckled,

"But you have before, non?"

"Even though I've had sex with you once, doesn't mean I want to hear others do it!"

Arthur then noticed the man sitting across from them, a business man by the suit, was giving them an odd expression. Arthur could tell he understood them too by that look, so instead he looked back out the window. Francis turned to the man and smiled, giving him a friendly wave then gazing at the Brit.

Arthur yawned and leaned against the glass,

"Frog, I'm going to sleep, alright? Don't wake me..."

Francis shrugged, keeping his eyes on the Briton until he was sure he was out. And, when he was sure, he pulled Arthur from the window and let him rest in his lap, petting his hair gently.

The older blond would also occasionally whisper into his ear,

"Tout ira bien, mon amour. Le tout sera bon.*"

(*Everything will be okay, my love. It will all be okay.)

The Englishman mumbled something in his slumber but did not wake so the Frenchman continued to hold him, saying soothing things to his sleeping form.

He kept this up until the plane was about to descend.

xXx(Later That Day, Outside of Arthur's House)

"Francis, wait out here, okay?"

Arthur said to his companion as they stood at the doorstep to his old home. He nearly forgot how beautiful his home was. It was something you would see out of a storybook, and just as extravagant. There were vines climbing up the walls of the two story household, so much foliage... It was truly beautiful.

The Frenchman shook his head,

"No! I will not wait out here like some weakling! I am going in with you-"

Arthur glared at him and took a menacing step forward,

"What was that?"

"N-Nothing, Angleterre..."

Arthur smirked and shrugged,

"I thought so. You really haven't changed, Frog."

Francis grimaced at the statement, looking back down at the ground,

"I am staying out here then, lapin...* I am not going to go back to the hotel, I will be right out here."


Arthur knocked on the door,

"Don't call me that. And, I'm fine if you are out here, just don't come in."

"But what if he, in your language, 'freaks out' that his son is suddenly at his doorstep?"

Arthur crossed his arms,

"I'm not an idiot. I called him before we left your home. He knows I am back in England... Though... I guess I didn't tell him I would be coming here..."

Releasing a chuckle, Arthur shrugged,

"I wonder how surprised he'll be-"


The Briton turned around to see someone he wasn't expecting. There stood his younger, half-brother Peter, wearing a stupid looking sailor outfit. Why was he answering the door?

"Why are you here?"

The boy asked, crossing his arms like Arthur had a few moments ago. This question made anger rise in his older brother,

"Why the bloody hell are you treating me like some fucking outcast?"

"Don't swear at me!"

"I can swear all I want! I'm 17 bloody years old! I can say whatever I want!"

The two argued for a few minutes before a loud yell could be heard from inside the house,

"Peter! Belt up! Who's at the bloody door?"

Both brothers looked into the house but only Arthur felt himself become tense as his father came around the corner. He looked the same as when Arthur left almost a year ago. He still had the same red hair and aqua blue eyes as always. The same beer gut, the same stubble, and, the thing Arthur remembers most, that scowl etched into his face with a bottle of ale, rum, or what other kind of liquor he drank in his hand.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of his son two youngest sons. Arthur thought he was drop his bottle by the way he reacted, but it never happened. Instead, his father simply shook his head, asking,

"Arthur? Boy, what are you doing here? I thought you would still be in France with..."

That's when he noticed Arthur wasn't alone. Francis leaned around his companion and waved at the man inside,

"Bonjour Monsieur Kirkland."

Peter stuck out his tongue at the Frenchman,

"You are that bloody poofter from earlier this year!"

Arthur glared at the child and yelled,

"Don't you call him that!"

The red haired man inside narrowed his gaze and asked again,

"Boy, why are you here?"

Arthur pushed his way into the house and said, crossing his arms,

"Other than this also being my home, I came to talk to you."

His father glared at Francis than at his son,

"He stays-"

"Outside. I know. I told him that already."

Nodding once, his father said to Francis,

"Where is your father?"

"L'hôtel. Er... I mean, the hotel."

"Why aren't you?"

Francis laughed,

"Because I am accompanying Angleterre, why else?"

The older man didn't seem to care for all he did was roll his eyes. He looked at Peter and said,

"You can close the door now, lad. I have nothing more to say to him."

Francis gawked at that statement as the door was closed in his face. This left the three family members alone. Arthur looked up the stairway to his right. The one that lead to the bedrooms. Secretly he wondered if his room still looked the same.

"Now, why are you here? You haven't answered me yet."

Arthur was brought back from his thoughts by his father's voice. He kept his eyes on the stairs, saying,

"I came back because of therapeutic orders. I had to get away from America for a bit."

The man shook his head,

"Thera... Why did you need a bloody therapist?"

Arthur looked at his half-brother and said,

"Go away. This is none of your business."

"Make me, jerk!"


Both sons looked at their father as he gestured for him to leave. Grumbling to himself, the boy went upstairs to his bedroom. When he was gone, Arthur and his father, almost as if sharing the same thought, went to the living room.

It was no different except for toys littering the floor. Arthur took a seat on the couch and his father took his seat on the cushiony chair. Just like Arthur remembered him always sitting in... His having leaned back into the chair,

"This is sudden... Almost as sudden as when you left."

Arthur felt his heart race. He didn't know why; Maybe it was his father's tone of voice? Maybe it reminded him of when his father got mad at him for no reason and hit him... But, instead of showing his anxiety, he put on a strong facade, keeping his face stern and voice clear,

"I had to leave. I couldn't stand the way you treated me."

His father glared at the ceiling, asking,

"Then why are you here of all places?"

The blond released a chuckle,

"Do you think I could honestly stay in France for two months? Even though you had me learn the language, I would dread every moment."

Arthur laughed but it faded away quickly when his father didn't react. So, composing himself, Arthur crossed his arms,

"Well... I'm here because I was... ordered by my therapist-"

"You still haven't told me why you had one anyways."

Arthur looked at his hands but choose not to tell him yet. Instead he ignored his father,

"He said that I should come back to England to, well, rehabilitate myself. He said I should also talk to you... About some things..."

"What things?"

Arthur looked down at the floor. The one thing he had intended to tell him was now stuck in his throat. Why did he feel tense? He probably, no, he wasn't staying with his father while he was in England. He'd just go and... well, he would decided that at a later time. But, why couldn't he just say it?

Arthur tried to start it, but it came out choked,

"We-Well... I-I've been meaning to tell you this for a while... I-I'm..."

Arthur's father released an annoyed sigh,

"Spit it out, boy."

Arthur swallowed and said quietly,

"I'm gay..."

"You're what?"

Arthur glared at him and stood up, getting a random bout of courage,

"I'm gay! Happy? Your son is a homosexual! A poofter! Happy?"

The red head stood up as well,

"You bloody git! No son of mine is a bloody fag!"

Arthur went up to his face,

"Well I am! I am gay and proud of it!"

"Than you are no son of mine!"

Arthur's eyes widened, at a loss for words. Even though he already knew that his father would be furious when he told him, he wasn't prepared for his father to say that. The older man seemed to see this for he showed what looked like... guilt? But, a moment later it was gone and he yelled again, a little softer,

"So, what? Is that bloody Frog out there the one fucking you? Is he?"

Arthur glared, saying quietly,

"No. He isn't."

"Well I bet he has before, huh?"

The blond could feel his face scrunching up in anger. However his voice remained even-toned,

"Why do you care anyways?"

"Because I want to know how far my son has fallen."

The younger Briton shook his head, saying,

"I don't need to stay here anymore. I only came to tell you that."

Arthur began to turn around but his father grabbed his wrist, earning a surprised yelp from his son. Green eyes met aqua, fear to anger. Mentally he prepared himself for a blow to his face. But, it never came, instead came his father's quiet voice,

"Don't do anything with that Frenchman, got it?"

Then he let go of Arthur's wrist and sat back down in his chair, letting his son leave. However, Arthur was now shocked and didn't know what to do. So, without much thought, he just left the house, closing the front door quietly behind him.

Francis was nowhere to be seen, probably flirting with some girls who passed by the house. Arthur bit his lip, not sure of what to make of what just happened. He expected to be hit at least once, maybe yelled at even more. But at the end, when he didn't seem angry... What was he to make of that? He thought he was going to be kicked out and, technically, wasn't he?

Shaking his head, he walked down the pathway to find his sex crazed companion. Like he thought, Francis was right there, a little ways up the block and talking to a gaggle of girls. Arthur proceeded to go get him, rolling his eyes as he did. Grabbing his arm, Arthur said, not even hiding a growl,

"Let's go, Froggie."

Francis gave a rushed fair well to the British girls and let himself be pulled along by Arthur. He tried to see his face for a sign of anger, sadness, or whatever it was the Briton was feeling. Arthur refused to look back at him though.

Without realizing that he was still holding Francis' hand, he lead him back to the hotel and away from the girls. He didn't know if he should be angry or depressed. He was practically disowned by his father but, at the same time, his father partially accepted him.

Pushing the Frog into the hotel, Arthur told him to just get them up to their room. Hurrying, Francis got the key and did so. As they went into the elevator, the older blond could tell Arthur was conflicted. But before he could ask how it went, Arthur muttered,

"I need your phone."

"Ah? What for?"

Arthur hesitated before answering,

"I'm going to call my brother."

xXx(Scott's House)

"Aye, so, my poofter brother is back from across the pond?"

Arthur glared at the taller redhead, growling,

"Don't call me that—"

"But it's true, isn't it?"

The younger blond kept glaring, not having anything else to say about that name. He had called Scott and was picked up at the hotel by him. Arthur was slightly shocked by how thick his Scottish accent had become (Scott had ironically been living in Scotland for a few years and picked up on the accent) and by how his house had even started to appear Scottish.

Scott smirked at Arthur, seemingly amused by his situation. He chuckled once before asking,

"So, you told father?"

Arthur nodded and looked off to the side,

"Yes, I told him. I don't know what he thinks of it though..."

A few moments passed before his eyes turned back to his brother. Scott was looking up at his ceiling, blowing a puff of smoke from his mouth. Arthur coughed, leaning away from him and thus getting his attention again. Scott sighed, smoke in the air,

"Aye, Art... You can stay here until you leave for America again."

Holding back a more animated response, Arthur nodded at him, standing up and brushing off his pants,

"Thank you, Scott. Where will I be staying?"

Standing up as well, the Scotsman pointed to the stairs,

"Up on the next floor in the smaller room. Now, go tell the Frenchie on my porch that he can bring your stuff now."

xXx(Next Week)

Arthur had gotten settled into his brother's home after about a week though it is still hard to be around Scott when he has just smoked a cigarette. Arthur has been staying in his room mostly as the days passed, getting used to what it is like to be back in his home country and around his brother. Mostly, however, he would sit alone and think to himself.

On this day though, he got his first visitor. Knocking on the door was Francis. They hadn't seen each other in a week and he was checking up on him. Arthur looked up and rolled his eyes, turning his eyes back onto the book he was reading: Peter Pan.

Francis sat next to him on the bed,

"Bonjour, Arthur. How have you been this past week?"

Arthur's response came very quickly,

"I've been fine. Why are you here?"

Francis sighed and leaned onto the Briton, back to back,

"I've been worried that you were suffocating on toxic smoke fumes~"

"Belt up. You are French and your father smokes. You are used to it and no far well that I am too."

A chuckle comes from the Frenchman as he turns to face Arthur, wrapping his arms around his neck,

"Oh, but you haven't been around it's intoxicating smoky haze in so long so you might be, hopefully, dying from it."

Arthur leans back, trying to push him away but fails as Francis sits up and thus has Arthur fall onto the bed. The blue eyed boy smirks down at him,

"See? You already are losing your balance from it."

Tone bitter and a glare on his face, Arthur growled,

"Why are you really here?"

Leaning closer to his face, with a devious smirk on his own, Francis whispered,

"I'm checking on you, Angleterre. I told you that."

Arthur's glare was cold and etched into his features, that look was going nowhere. Pushing against Francis' chest, he lowered his voice to not alert his brother,

"Get the bloody hell away from me you blasted beard face..."

Francis leaned in more, his nose brushing against Arthur's,

"Oh hon hon, you know you love my stubble, Angleterre~"

Before Arthur could get in a comment about how, no, he didn't like his beard, Francis kissed him. It was sudden yet still anticipated. But Arthur still was slightly shocked from it and didn't fight back as the older Frenchman locked lips with him.

He isn't fighting back. He must like it

Francis thought to himself, deepening the kiss. Yet, in Arthur's mind, too many things were passing through it: What made this idiot think he could kiss me, why isn't he stopping, why am I not stopping him, why do I like this, why does this remind me of Alfred...?

Subconsciously however, Arthur's arms wrapped around the blond's neck, pulling him closer. Francis took this as an obvious sign of approval and placed his hands on Arthur's hips. This seemed to have taken Arthur out of his trance for a moment after Francis' hands were there, his whole body fell to the floor after a painful push.

Arthur got to his feet and wiped his mouth, glaring harshly at him,

"Get out of my bloody house, you idiotic, horny, git!"

Francis rolled his eyes and joined Arthur in standing,

"Oui, oui Angleterre. But, you did kiss me back~"

With a wink, he leaves the room, going downstairs to talk to Scott instead. Arthur, alone in his room, sits on his bed and wipes his lips. Muttering to himself about how stupid and immature Francis can be, his mind wanders to Alfred.

His blond hair, the colour of a fresh wheat field, his eyes, as blue and bright as the sky, his voice, his personality, his everything! That is the only reason he kissed Francis. Only because he is so much like Alfred. That is the only reason.

With a nod, Arthur got up to lock his door and remained in his room alone for the rest of the day.

It also stayed like this for the next few weeks. Arthur was be alone in his room, reading and keeping calm, he and Scott would talk sometimes or go out when the red head forced him to, and Francis made one more visit, not leaving without a rough slap on the cheek.

But, now, as summer is coming to end, Arthur and Scott are in the airport, waiting for his plane to take him back to America. Back to New York... Back to Alfred. Scott looked at his brother,

"Aye, are you sure you are ready to go back?"

"Absolutely. These past few weeks have... helped. Though that Frog was a thorn in my back constantly. But, yes. I am better now. I have had a chance to clear my head and think maturely. I am ready to go back."

Scott nodded and lied back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling. Arthur could feel his foot tapping. He really wanted to go back, to see how Alfred's summer was, see if he changed, if he matured.

The plane came not too long later and Arthur gave his goodbyes to his brother, boarding the flight. Once situated, a book in hand and in a window seat, he had to also make his goodbyes to London.

When the plane was in the air, Arthur smiled to himself, hiding his face in his book. He was on his way back to America.

Yes, you can yell at me now ;3; It's been almost a year, hasn't it? ^^" But, I will say now, I really am sorry that I haven't updated, I can explain! Ever since my last update, I have gotten into role playing and cosplaying and have started really opening my friend circle and all sorts of stuff. But, for the past months and since I started this year of school (Which is now ending in a few weeks "), I had the idea for this and updated probably one every two months. But, I really am sorry for the long wait and I will try to update more often until this story is done. Also, the stories on paper have been lost since the hurricane those months ago (If you are American and remember the hurricane that hit the east coast, I live on the coast, on a beach front town and I didn't lose anything in the storm but we had some stuff in the basement including my notebooks with those stories). However, I might put up short stories such as a small UsUk story here, maybe a SpaMano there, or any pairings that I like and can think of a good story for. But, again, I am so sorry it took this long to update ;A;

But, I am going to do something I usually wouldn't do but, she is an amazing author, a great person, and my loving girlfriend. If you like my stories, read hers, they are much better! Her name is Sword-of-Shadows :) Please read her stuff w