Sooooooo… I haven't really ever written a fanfiction, I usually draw everything so it's quite unusual uploading it to here. Porn is my specialty~ That's right, BOW TO ME. :3

Characters are not mine. It makes me sad.

Pairing is FrUk and I warn you now: PORN BE AHEAD. That's right. So if you don't like it don't say I didn't warn you. Cause I did. Nyeh :P

Soooooooo ENJOY :D

The Gift of Tea:

Hostility.

That was the atmosphere in the boardroom where the World Conference was being held. Russia was trying to convince poor China to become one with him, Northern Italy was rampaging around squealing something about pasta, Germany was chasing after him trying to get him to settle down and shut up, and Spain was fawning over Southern Italy and remarking on how 'cute and tomato-like' he looked when he got mad. And naturally there was England and France. They were sitting at opposite ends of the large oak table glaring daggers at one another. The tension in the air around them was palpable. And naturally but extremely unexpectedly, poor little Sealand burst through the double doors in tears demanding to become a country.

Yes. This conference would be interesting, indeed.

Suddenly, Germany calmed down the squealing Italian and stepped up to the head of the table.

"SILENCE!" he bellowed in that distinctly commanding pure German accent.

The room immediately went silent. The whole room stared at Germany in a mixture of shock and awe. Well, the whole room except for England and France who were still linked in their glaring contest.

Eventually the meeting ended with nothing being resolved except for the fact that Italy loves pasta and that America wanted McDonalds again. On the way out of the conference room, England bumped into France with his shoulder, effectively knocking him into the doorframe.

"Oi! What was that for?" France yelled after England, who was now a decent ways ahead of him.

"That my dear frog, was for existing." England spat back.

The Frenchman sighed heavily. So he asked the other to marry him yesterday, he didn't see why he was being such a prick about it. After all, the world would be such an ugly place without France around to dazzle it with his mere presence.

France sighed again, this time though he turned his attention to his soon-to-be-bride as he walked away. His eyes strayed down to the Englishman's lithe frame and small hips, which were currently swaying side to side and making the other man's mind stray to much more inappropriate things. He shook his head, banishing the thoughts to the farthest reaches of his mind, but then stopped. Slowly, he thought of something and a switch seemed to flip in his mind. He conjured up his recently banished thoughts and smiled wickedly. Yes. That would work just magnificently.

England sighed heavily as he walked home from the conference. He shivered as he felt a steely but familiar gaze on his back but shook it off and went back to his own thoughts. Before he knew it he found himself outside of his flat in the center of Times Square, New York. All of the countries had met at the UN for their monthly conference so the English-speaking nation had made arrangements to stay nearby. He had rented a small flat in the middle of the bustling cityscape. He grumbled to himself as he dug his hand around in his pants pocket searching for his keys.

"Aha!" he smiled triumphantly, pulling the elusive metal key out of his pocket and unlocking his door. He stepped inside and peeled off his coat and unstrapped his boots. He let out a soft noise of contentment as he worked the cricks out of his stiff neck. Just as he was about to sit down and relax, he hears a knock at the door.

"Who in the bloody hell is it now…" he grumbled, shuffling over to the door and poking his eye up to the peephole.

He spotted France standing outside with a small pink shopping bag in his hands, smiling like the git he was. The Brit grumbled again and opened the door reluctantly. France smiled even wider at the sight of the door opening and quickly sidestepped the Brit and welcomed himself into his home. He set down his bag and made himself at home on the other man's couch, letting a contented sigh as he propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. He then glanced back at his English counterpart who was currently sputtering angrily. England brought his hand up to his forehead, attempting to smooth the wrinkles forming there from his frustration. He eventually calmed down and sat on the chair directly across from the other nation.

"What in the hell do you want you git?" he forced out through clenched teeth.

The Frenchman gasped dramatically, grabbing the fabric of his shirt where his heard would be as though the statement had made his soul shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Is it a crime now to come and visit a friend?" he asked tearfully.

"Yes." the other man replied bluntly.

"Well then…" France said slowly, dragging out the statement, "I suppose you wouldn't be interested in what I brought you."

The Brit raised his eyebrows, giving the other a skeptical look.

"You know that really rare Chinese herbal tea you've been searching for for the last century?" France pressed on, noting the spark of disbelief in the other's eyes, "I asked a favor from China and got it especially for you…"

"I suppose you can stay then…" England murmured under his breath, "where is it?"

France took a small intricately designed box out of the shopping bag he brought with him and handed it to the other man, who took it immediately. England opened the box and found three types of rare assorted tealeaves only found in China. He closed the box and glanced over at the bag that France had brought with him, confusion dawning on his face.

"Well… what else is in there then?" he asked.

"Nothing important at the moment. I assure you." France answered smoothly.

"All… right then," the Brit said, knitting his eyebrows together but deciding to drop the subject.

"I'll go make some tea," he said, wanting to get away from the other man.

"I'll be waiting~" France smiled as the Englishman left the room.

His smile quickly morphed into a sly smirk, loving how his plan was playing out and patiently waited for England's return. A few minutes later England returned with two teacups in hand. He placed one in front of France and kept the other for himself, sipping slowly at the steaming hot liquid. After a few minutes passed, he noticed the other was making no move to drink his tea and confronted France about it.

"You know I hate tea, Angleterre!" France replied jokingly.

England shrugged and took another sip of his tea, sighing in contentment as the hot liquid slid down his throat. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while longer before England broke the silence, setting down his empty teacup and looking France in the eye.

"So why exactly did you come here?" he demanded, "the truth this time."

"I only wanted to see you mon cher!"

"France…" England pressed.

The Frenchman let out a deep breath and spoke.

"I need you to marry me," he said as he pulled out a marriage certificate from his pocket, setting it down on the table in front of the other country.

England grimaced, "No way in hell, frog."

"Please!" France pleaded, sounding genuinely upset.

"I've told you no and I mean no!" England shouted, standing up abruptly and balling his fists.

France followed his lead, standing tall and glowering at the stubborn Brit, who was glaring right back at him. Suddenly France grabbed England's shoulders and yanked him towards his body, making him lean forward over the table in between them. He pressed his lips to the others roughly. England went to protest but France used the opportunity to push his tongue into the other's mouth, thus began their fight for dominance. Because damn it all if England was going to let France beat him in anything, and that included kissing.

Tongues danced in an intricate battle for victory but eventually France won, subduing England and mapping out every crevice of his mouth and storing it in his memory for future reference. Suddenly he bit the other's lip and England pulled away roughly, panting and staring at the Frenchman in shock as though he had just announced that he had just shot Flying Mint Bunny out of the sky with a bazooka. France smirked at the sight of England, who by now looked thoroughly ravished. His lips were swollen from kissing and beet red from the nip he gave him, his cheeks were bright pink as though someone had dusted rose petals across his skin and his hair was even more ruffled looking than usual. And that was saying something. After surveying his work, France pulled England over the table and plopped down onto the couch with him on his lap, still looking dazed.

He pressed their lips together, once again igniting the passion from deep within the brazen and moody country. This time, France quickly gained the upper hand. He slid his hands up the other's back, extracting a shiver from the honest body straddling his lap. He then moved his hands to start unbuttoning England's shirt, unknown to the other who was too absorbed in their kiss to notice. He did notice however when France slid the shirt off of his shoulders, exposing him to the cold air.

England broke the kiss, gasping for breath once again and looked at the other questioningly, lust clouding his emerald green eyes. France smirked and moved to cup the other's face, giving him a chaste kiss on the nose and slowly planted kisses all the way down his body. His cheek, the corner of his pouting lips, his string jaw and finally his neck. He licked England's pulse point and then moved to leave a bright red hickey on his milky white skin. England groaned at the sensation and grasped France's shoulders. France smirked and lowered his head to lick the other's pert nipples, using one of his free hands to play with the other. He then latched onto one of them with his mouth and rolled the hard bud between his teeth, making the other moan wantonly. He used his hand to pinch the other and then moved to place butterfly kissed on England's scarred abdomen. England shivered at the feather light kisses being distributed lower and lower on his body.

"F-france…" he moaned as the other dipped his tongue into his bellybutton.

"Oui, mon cheri?" the Frenchman spoke breathily.

"P-please," England panted.

France moved his hands to cup the growing need in the other's trousers, making England throw back his head with a loud moan.

"Please what?" France whispered, blowing a hot breath into the other's sensitive ear, "tell me what you want… what you need."

"I need you," England replied, moaning and hiding his face in the other's neck in embarrassment.

"That's all you needed to say my dear Angleterre," France said.

Before England knew what was happening he was pressed down onto the coffee table on his back, France pushing down on him and ravishing his mouth once again. France grinded their hips together and enticing a loud moan from the one beneath him. France broke their lip-lock once again to unbutton his shirt and set himself to work on ridding England of his remaining clothes. Once their clothes had been shed France took a moment to admire his work. He gazed down at England's naked form, soaking it in and making the other blush a deep scarlet and raise his arm to hide his face from view. France pulled the arm away.

"Don't hide your face, mon amour, I want to see your expression when I pound into you until you scream my name begging for more."

England's blush deepened at this statement and France chose this moment to gyrate his hips, rubbing their erections together. England lost all coherency and bucked his hips to meet France's motions, hoping for more friction. France chuckled and swiftly flipped the Brit over so that his stomach was pressed firmly against the table and his hips raised into the air. France moaned deeply at the sight of England in such a position. He stroked the other man's spine but stopped right before he reached his ass. England slammed his head down on the table in frustration.

"Just take me, damnit!" he pleaded, not caring at all how desperate he sounded, all he knew is that he needed France inside of him now.

"All in good time my dear," France chuckled, reaching his free hand down to cup the pleading man's balls.

England squeaked, making France chuckle again. France took the other's weeping cock in his hand and began massaging it slowly, watching the man beneath him squirm and moan. France slid his pointer finger down the length of England's shaft and back up again to press on the head of his dick. England by then, was a writhing pile of goo, trying his best to bite back his moans and keep his hips from bucking into his lover's skilled hand.

"Please…" England begged, knowing he could not hold on any longer, "p-please, I need you! I need you inside of me!"

"What was that? I'm not quite sure what it is that you are asking for," France smirked, milking this experience for all that it's worth.

"I need your cock in my ass NOW!" England all but screamed.

"Comme vous voulez." France whispered lustily. *

He took his hand off of the Brit's dick and brought it up to his mouth. He sucked on the digits, making sure that they were thoroughly lubricated before reaching down to the other's entrance. He pressed the first finger against the puckered hole, feeling it twitch in anticipation before pushing it past the first ring of muscle. England squirmed, not accustomed to the feeling of something probing inside of him. France waited a moment before adding a second finger. This time England yelped, feeling the burning sensation that came with being stretched and knitted his brows together tightly. France then started to scissor his fingers, stretching the other further but also searching for that one spot that would make England scream.

England yelped loudly as an intense pleasure replaced the pain he felt. France smirked as he prodded England's prostate a few more times before reaching down with his free hand to grab the other's cock while skillfully adding a third digit into him. England's body was fighting between pleasure and pain, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. England struggled to hold them back, not wanting to cry in front of the Frenchman. When France deemed him properly stretched he removed his fingers and pressed his dick up against England's hole. England shouted loud obscenities as a searing pain took hold of him, shooting up his back and making his whole body go rigid. France gasped, feeling the other's muscles clamp down on his dick. He leaned down and kissed the Englishman's back comfortingly, noticing the stream of tears flowing from his eyes.

"It's alright, the pain will be gone before you know it. Just relax," he spoke soothingly into his sobbing lover's ear.

England took heed of France's words and tried to relax as the other nation lightly massaged his back and placed feather light kisses on his neck. France could feel England's muscles relaxing and slowly started to move. He slowly picked up the pace as the Brit began to moan and buck his hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Mmmm! O-oh God!" England moaned, "f-faster… oh God, Francis!"

"Ah… Angleterre…" France moaned huskily, picking up the pace even more and angling himself so that he hit the other's prostate with each thrust.

He picked the smaller man up so that England's back was pressed up against his chest and reached down to stroke the man's weeping cock. France grunted, knowing that he would not last much longer and bit England's neck harshly. England screamed France's name and cam harshly all over the Frenchman's hand the coffee table. Feeling England's muscles clench around him sent France over the edge, coming violently inside of the other. France fell backwards onto the couch, still holding England in his arms.

They were both panting heavily, their bodies gleaming with sweat. France pulled out of England, who winced slightly and made a noise of disappointment. The Frenchman pressed a gentle kiss to the other's temple as England nuzzled into his neck, getting comfortable. France chuckled, jarring the other out of his stupor and making him look up questioningly at his new lover. France leaned over to the table, still splattered with cum and picked up the marriage certificate that was forgotten in the midst of their 'activities'. The white piece of paper was splattered all over with the Brit's now drying cum.

"I think this will work quite nicely as a signature," he grinned wolfishly, "and hello my dear Mrs. Bonnefoy~"

England stared at the other in complete and utter shock and horror.

"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT YOU SLIMY GIT!" he screamed, trying to leap on the other but missing.

France hurrily putting on his clothes and scurried to the door.

"And by the way?" France added as he was halfway out the door, "that tea was an aphrodisiac! ~"

England's screams of rage could be heard as far a Spain that day.

END

*: "As you wish"

So how was it? Gimme your honest opinion cause this was written out of boredom and I enjoy feedback, even if it's negative. Reviews would make ma a happy camper and I'll give you bacon if you do ittttttttttttttt~~~~ Bacon is good, DON'T DENY THE BACON! w