WARNING! This fanfic is a crack erotic fic of a Franada nature with mention of USUK at the end. There is food play (in a sense) and sexual language (It is Francis after all).
Not Quite Dessert
Francis groaned as he sat up in bed, loving the feel of the warm sunlight hitting his skin. He stretched and looked over to the other side of the large red and white bed. Laying adorably, as usual, was Matthew. The younger man's wavy golden blond hair was tossed over the maple leaf shaped pillow that he so adored. Francis couldn't help the smile that came to his face and he had to suppress the rising feeling inside of him. What had Kiku called it? Oh right, a squee. His smile turned into a grin as he remembered all the festivities of the night before. Oh how Matthew had the voice of an angel when he cried out and screamed. It was not easy to get the usually quiet Canadian to make any sound. Well, not easy for anyone of amateur techniques that is. With some few choice words in French, with an authentic French accent, and a few gentile caresses, Matthew would practically turn into a puddle of need.
With a gentle hand he leaned over and brushed through Matthew's hair. The Canadian did not wake but he did stir. An almost blissful expression came to his face, "Pancakes." He whispered. Francis paused and then had to suppress yet another squee that threatened to rise and escape. Why did Matthew have to be so cute? Dear god even Italy was not this adorable! Then Matthew's expression changed, pouting. "Pancakes." He grumbled again. Was he having a dream, Francis wondered.
"Mmmm, my yummy pancakes. Get away-" he frowned. "Alfred those are mine!" He yelled and in one swift motion he leaped at Francis and tackled him to the bed, pinning him down.
"Matthew!" Francis yelped, but then stopped as the Canadian started nibbling on his neck and licking his way down his skin. A dark blush formed on his face. Canada continued to moan and purr like the world's sexiest kitten, all the while whispering praises about the delicious pancake.
"Mi amour that feels very nice but I am-"
"Breakfast time!" Matthew cheered as he attacked Francis' stomach, licking his belly button. Francis had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing and moaning at the same time. Matthew continued to lick down his body until he came to Francis' erect sex. He paused. "This isn't a pancake." Matthew sounded confused and slightly distressed.
He knew the proper thing to do would be to stop and wake Matthew up. But properness was something Arthur would do, and Francis definitely did not want to be like him. Besides, he had learned long ago it was considerably more fun to be perverted. "It's a crêpe Matthew, now why don't you lick up all the filling."
"A crêpe!" Matthew's eyes were still closed as he was still obviously half asleep. "I love crêpes, almost as much as pancakes." He purred and began licking Francis' cock from base to head. His eager tongue found a drop of precum and he moaned. Francis bucked his hips and his hands found their way into Matthew's hair. He didn't grab the younger man's head for fear that the pain of pulling on his hair would cause the Canadian to wake up. He bit his lower lip as he began whispering different endearments in French.
He continued to lick and lick. With each swipe of the hot tongue Francis' breath hitched and his groans grew louder. "Very good Matthew." He smiled, "But there is another special treat for you Matthew. Maple syrup." Matthew gasped and before Francis could say anything more Matthew practically engulfed him into his mouth. He sucked, his cheeks hollowing as his tongue ran up and down the underside. When he pulled back he sucked on the head and released with cute little whining sound.
Dear god. The face, the feel, the sheer exoticness of it all was just enough. Francis moaned and closed his eyes as he released into Matthew's open hungry mouth. Matthew groaned as he continued to suck, milking Francis for ever last bit of cum. When he pulled away he licked his lips. "Every last drop." He said in a sing-song happy tone as he flopped back down onto the bed.
Francis smiled to himself as he tried to regain his breath. He turned to look at the clock. If he fell asleep now he would be late for afternoon tea, or in Francis' case wine, with Arthur. He smirked. He did so love making the Brit angry. He turned back and snuggled against Matthew, decided to spend a few more hours wrapped around his favorite lover bathing in the early morning sunlight.
Later on that day when Arthur was into his third cup of tea and Francis was having his second glass of wine the Frenchman decided he was going to tease Arthur a little more. "You know, Matthew seems to be a pretty deep sleeper."
"Really?" Arthur raised a brow in his direction. Francis knew that Arthur wasn't stupid and they both knew where this conversation was going. It was just that Arthur didn't think sex talk was polite conversation, which is why Francis did it so often.
"Oh yes. This very morning he practically molested me in his sleep because he thought I was a delicious French crêpe."
Arthur pursed his lips and then nodded, "I see." Francis frowned. He would have thought telling Arthur about Matthew's exoticness would have gotten him flustered and embarrassed. It should have at least earned him and angry scowl. Then Arthur said "Alfred did the same thing once. Though he thought I was a banana split." He smirked. "If I remember correctly bananas are bigger than crêpes are they not?" Francis only glared at him.