Becoming Official

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lilspacebirb wanted me to tag them this and warning; it's long!

Features: wholesome, small angst, drunk scenes and jealousy! With some mystery as well!

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Lover's guide to handling a relationship and knowing whenever you like someone? He questioned, flipping through the colorful magazine before hiding it under his papers when he noticed the first person in his row to arrive, shoving through the empty chairs, eyes minding their own business; however, he couldn't risk someone discovering he was looking at couple advice. His mind had been plagued by one individual alone and he couldn't shake the thought that they only hung out was for sex. He had been receiving magazines in the mail about finding that special someone to the point he desperately wanted to make them his; however, would they ever want to be with someone as cold and unaffectionate as possible? Surely he'd push them away like he had done everyone, right? Surely he would be rejected because they were the same sex, right?

"Fuck..."

The male had slumped in his chair for what was the first time in centuries. His dull eyes stared ahead of him as he noticed a dark male arriving, setting up a small stand, and beginning to hand out pink letters to whoever had passed him. His thoughts were interrupted when someone pushed behind him, causing his stomach to slam into the delicate desk, his papers slid down the desk before he smacked his hand, keeping the flimsy pages in place as the magazine had softly become revealed.

"Watch where you're bloody going," he muttered, his thoughts still plaguing him about the idea of getting together with someone who was way out of his league and a male, something that had to be horrible, right? Why had this have to happen to someone like him, why couldn't he be coldhearted and lonely? Why did his heart want him to feverishly cling to someone who had shown him attention and made him feel good about himself? Why did he have to get caught up in the idea that there was so much more between them than what there probably was?

"Did your boyfrienddddddd invite you to his party~?" the Romanian accent teased, sliding into his thoughts, hovering over the Brit before becoming bored and settling down two seats away from him, kicking his feet onto the delicate wood and causing a clank to boom throughout the chapel they all would have the meeting in. Archie adjusted his pages, holding them close, rolling his eyes as he watched the Romanian press his hands together and make smooching noises.

"He's not my boyfriend," grumbled Archie. He had been right though, there was no "official" agreement for them to date, it had been centuries of them bonding together, talking, hanging out, arguing in public, and of course, sex. It had started out just them doing the deed whenever one needed it; however, something began to trouble him when he slightly started caring about how Francis thought of him and that secret would be buried with him in his grave. He wanted to scold himself for being okay with it in the first place; was he a sucker for the devilish Frenchman that seduced him with kisses and affection? He crossed his arms as Roman continued his speech.

"Okay, Mr. Virgin, tell yourself that. I've seen you guys out! You guys look awfully close and having fun whenever it's just you two but whenever someone gets involved, your cold heart stops beating, haha! Talk about friend issues." which only raised a sleek eyebrow that Archie possessed. Seen them out? He wouldn't call them anything special, the two would often explore the cities they possessed, go out for dinner, and then... He stopped when he noticed Roman flashing a smirk at him and his stomach turned, would he allow himself to be made fun of by a little twat?

"And perhaps may I point out that you and István are not dating; however, you force yourself pettily into his life by stalking him and asking about him? Do you have homosexual thoughts you'd like to share?" the colors seemed to drain from the cocky Romanian's face as Archie continued, "besides, Francis and I will never be a thing. I just took him out before his birthday as a friendly gesture, anything wrong with being friendly, Roman? Why don't you explain your dance routines to me and the 'class'."

"Okay Okay... get off my back, Dad," Roman huffed, clearly not enjoying his personal life being pointed out to himself. "And I don't stalk Isti, he tends to just... show up and be around... Besides," Roman rolled his tongue as he slid the invite towards Archie. "Francis didn't invite you because he knew how much you hated parties so why ask a buzzkill?"

"Whatever you're talking about, Roman, I want no part of," the German huffed, sitting down beside the Romanian, tapping his fingers against the desk.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Archie stood up, silently thanking Buck had shown up and stalked towards the individual who he had seen handing out the pink invites, Pablo. Archie had never really liked Pablo to begin with; he always had a dumb smile on his face that seemed forced in some situations. However, Archie did enjoy playing battleship and blowing up the San José, fun times. "Can I have one of those invitations, Pablo?" he forced out of his cold neck, his politeness never dipped nonetheless. the Spanish male turned to glance at the Britishmale, almost surprised that he had dared approach him after everything that had happened centuries prior.

"Wait," he paused, almost laughing as he remarked, "Mr. Buzzkill wants an invite to Francis's birthday party, why? Why the change of heart?"

He had no idea what caused the seed of thought for him to attend the stupid birthday party; however, he wouldn't admit that to Pablo. "I just thought that I should attend to give Francis my gift I got him. Is that so criminal?"

"How sweet of youuuuu~" cooed Pablo as he lightly grabbed the invite at the top of the pile and allowed it to drift towards Archie before the Britishmale snatched it in the wind.

"I should've known that you would want to go since you're boyfriends, or, partners or something..." Pablo trailed off, causing the male to turn back towards the Spaniard.

Why was everybody calling him Francis's boyfriend? CLEARLY they were not.

"If you're talking about when I was drunk, I was drunk." Archie had gotten himself hammered the night before. Alcohol was a curse for Archie, the bittering gin seemed to make the pains in his knees fade and his worries dissipate. Waking up with a horrible hangover in Francis' house was NOT how he wanted to start his morning and hearing that Francis was going to skip the meeting to prepare for something and didn't explain it thoroughly felt like a slug to the gut.

"Yanno, you said something to Pablo when you were drunk yesterday," hummed Francis as Archie stumbled to dress himself. Upon seeing the Britishman struggle, a smirk drew itself to the Frenchman's face and began to button the white undershirt.

"W... What did I say?" He would've fought back if he had been motivated to; however, his aching body was tired of pushing away from something.

"You called me your boyfriend, I never thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth..." The smirk began to grow as Francis leaned in, causing the male to turn his attention away from Francis, keeping their mouths separate from one another's.

"Damn, must have been a rough night."

"Considering you wanting to fight Pablo, yeah."

"When did Pablo show up?"

"He ... Was always there. You just ignored him and just started drinking yourself to death."

"Oh, so there's nothing between you?" Pablo questioned, adjusting his red cape and handed an invite to the twins, who were eagerly talking amongst themselves. Archie remembered when they were younger and Francis and him lived under one roof. Now, the three of them all had birthdays in the month of July; how ironic.

"Yes, just friendly conversations and arguments are what exist between us."

"Oh! Okay! Well, I am going to focus on handing out invites, see ya!" Pablo adjusted his body to where he could block out the Brit who glanced down at his watch, anyone coming in would be late anyways.

"Tch, whatever," he rolled his eyes as he sat down at the familiar spot and watched as the meeting commence. Every so often, his eyes would wander towards the empty chair that marked Francis's spot.

The day of the meeting had coherently seemed longer than it should have been. The energy seemed to drain to the point where Archie grabbed his magazine and hid it under the table, flipping through it quietly only to glance up whenever he felt a small shoulder from Buck, obviously, he had been preoccupied and stuttered when starting his speech, something he never has done in his life and watched confused gazes of the countries that thought he prepared for every speech paint themselves onto their complexions.

"Smooth one, Mr. Virgin," whispered Roman, laughing softly as Buck glanced oddly at Archie.

"Shut it," Archie hissed back, Roman rolled his eyes and quieted down as the next speaker began to speak.

When the meeting finally ended, the room buzzed with excitement and chatter for the big celebration. Apparently, Francis threw giant balls for his birthday, why hadn't he ever known that? Probably because he was never invited to the event.

While walking down the stairs, his feet were swept from underneath him, falling down onto his knees as his papers scattered around him. The wind had been dead for quite a while and he quickly collected the papers, only hearing the magazine flop down in front of him caused his heart to skip a beat.

"You dropped this, Archie," Buck responded, kneeling down to help the Brit who only stumbled to his feet.

"This... This isn't mine."

"Weren't you reading it, tho?" Buck asked, glancing at the magazine the Brit squished up to his chest, hidden under all the unorganized papers. "I am not judging. I just didn't expect you to be in a relationship."

"... I am not in a relationship," Archie trailed off, scratching his head as Buck's eyes seemingly flashed a bit brighter, realizing what the magazine was for.

"Oh. Good luck."

"Hey Germany!" America bounced down the stairs and stood right next to Buck. "Are you going to Francis' party?"

"... Mmm, I cannot. Why?"

"Oh," deflated the male.

And the male-only felt his face softly begin to de-heat from the intense redness as he parted away from the German, who didn't turn to look back at the Brit as his attention was on Mitch.

Odd. Didn't know Mitch knew Buck. Guess you learned something new everyday.

What felt like a million years later, Archie was finally outside the house of Francis, the creamy outside and the rose garden caused anxiety as he stepped up the familiar three-stepped perron leading to the charming architecture building. He knocked on the door
and waited
and waited
and waited
and finally...
He decided to push open the door. The lights were flickering different colors of pink, white and blue while the house was covered in people standing around and communicating. A random lady stopped the male, yanking the flowers he had picked for Francis and set them in a vase crookedly. He felt himself straighten out as he had the impulse to fix the roses. Then, she shoved Archie a masquerade mask, ripping him out of his thoughts, and demanded, "one must wear this at all times. Don't take it off until Francis cuts the cake."

"You know where I can find Francis?" she continued to shove the masquerade mask at him and only shrugged, disappearing into the giant crowd of roaring people. Archie felt bodies collide with him as he hopelessly glanced around, his faith dying as he stumbled into a bar section and sat upon a red barstool as the bartender poured him champagne.

"Oh no, do you have... ale?"

The bartender ignored the male's wishes and slid him the fancy wine, which he only slid to the side, noticing a tall woman in a flowing dress sit down next to him. He pushed the glass her way and rested his head against the table.

"You okay, hun?" she had a thick accent. It was hard to make out what she had been saying. Luckily he wasn't drunk and turned to glance at her.

"I am fine. Go away."

She didn't respond, swirling the champagne within her tall wineglass and took a small sip out the glass.

"I am looking for Francis. If you know where he is located, that'd be helpful."

"Ooh, you're looking for... the owner of the building? Why does a cutie like you need to know where they're located~?"

"Just, show me where the fuck Francis is," he muttered, the woman took the Brit's hand and followed her up the stairs and into a familiar setting he knew all too well; Francis's bedroom. The lavender and rose smell waffled through the room while the curtains that hid Francis's bed were full-blown open and empty.

"Where is he?"

And then, he heard the loud pull of a zipper as the woman pulled down her gown and draped her arms around Archie's neck, hugging him from behind.

"What the-!!!"

"Shhh~" she whispered, fumbling for his bottom button as she murmured, "It's just us in here~"

"I don't want to do this."

"It'll make you feel a lot better~" she fumbled for the last button and softly nipped at the male's exposed neck. "Besides, I am all yours~"

Archie didn't know how to respond, feeling his coat jacket softly come undone until a loud "ahem" was heard behind them. He shoved himself away from the woman and buttoned his jacket back up, heart dropping when he heard what she had been saying.

"Mr... Mr. Francis... I am quite sorry..."

"Yeah, yeah. I am sure you are. Go on, the guests need drinks, dear." Archie turned to face the Frenchman whose eyes didn't look at the woman dressing back up and only helped her with the zipper when she whined to Archie about not getting it all the way up. Her eyes flickered to the masquerade mask that Archie was still wearing and Francis shut the door behind him.

"Now, I think I'd like to talk to the man who thought it was appropriate to have sexual intentions towards my-"

"Nono," Archie ripped the mask off his face, allowing the masquerade mask to bounce off the ground as he approached the male slowly. "She said you'd be up here, I wanted to..."

"Wow. You really missed five minutes, Archie-poo~! You don't have to wear those masks anymore! I cut the cake and someone spotted Lucelle and you coming up here! I hope you're having fun, Archie-poo~!" and just like that, Francis opened the door and shut it softly behind him, leaving Archie in the middle of the room, jaw open as he scratched his arm. Maybe Francis... didn't feel the same about him? He moved towards a book Francis had referenced before on one of their "rendezvous" and flipped thru the messy journal. There were doodles and random rants until he stumbled upon an empty page with the letter A in the middle of it and what looked like an arrow drawn right through it. He set the book down carefully, right where it had been, and stalked down the stairs. Did that mean what the magazines were talking about were true...???? His intelligent mind couldn't wrap the simple concept of love as he felt people shove into him left and right.

He glanced to the left and his right and noticed Francis speaking with Pablo and his younger brother, Caiden. His blood seemed to boil when he stalked towards the group, watching Pablo move the fancy red cape he wore on nearly EVERYTHING and flashed up glittered sequins spelling out, "fuck you". He bumped into Caiden and Pablo, muttering a "fuck you" to the Spaniard, and a small glare to his brother, and grabbed Francis's wrist softly.

"I wanted to speak with you before you left, Francis. You never allowed me the shot too."

"Why don't you bloody do it right here??" Caiden asked, trying to separate Archie's grip on Francis. His curly orange mess of hair wasn't tamed for this event at all and he felt the burning green glare from his brother.

"I'd prefer in private. Doesn't concern either of you."

"Why? Scared to-" Pablo got cut off by Francis, who only gave a small shrug and a small 'hm' in the process. Francis allowed himself to be carried onto the dance floor, Archie slowly leading the dance as he pressed his face into the crook of the male's neck before slowly pushing himself away from Francis. Why did he even think about dancing with Francis? This was so foolish, right? He would be turned down and known as a f-

"What is it you wanna talk about with me, Archie?" Francis softly gripped the edges of Archie's waist as heat began to rise to his cheeks. Fuck, please no-

"It is dumb. You can go back to doing whatever.." he tried to end the dance. To shove away. To move.

However, Francis refused to let go of the Brit and remarked, "I am sure it isn't dumb. Just, try, okay, Archie-poo~?" Francis spun the two of them out of the limelight and bounced up the stairs, glancing back at the Brit who followed the taller Frenchmale. After closing the door, Archie collapsed onto his knees as his eyes refused to bounce up off the floor.

"I'm telling you. It's dumb."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"Is not, Archie-poo~"

He didn't answer that time as Francis softly pressed, "whatever it is, it'll be okay! I like to think of myself as an open individual, you know that. I was thinking of wearing a poofy dress but was scared out of it."

"I can't... " Archie finally choked out, causing Francis's ranting to end as his purple eyes softly watched the Brit.

"You can't, what?"

Archie took a deep breath, wishing he had never gone to this stupid party anyways. What was the point? However, his heart sung a different song from his intelligent mind as foreign words escaped his clasped neck. "I can't bloody handle this anymore, Francis..."

After a few moments of silence, Francis finally asked, softly kneeling in front of the Brit and placing a hand upon the male's cheek. "...Handle what?"

The Brit bit his lip, cupping his gloved hand around Francis's hand and sighing, his eyes still focused on the ground. "Just, let's forget about this, I'll leave-"

"I don't want you to leave, tho."

"France..."

"Angleterre. Take your time, okay? I don't want you to leave. I enjoy hanging out with you and I learned so much about you."

"...I am ridiculed with unnecessary feelings and..." Archie finally choked out, glancing at the watch that Francis had given him for comfort. Just run, just run, just run.

The Frenchman waited for what the Brit had said, his unmoving warm and calm eyes soothed the tension that rumbled in Archie's stomach. "I love you, Francis. I don't want to just see you for the... sex. I want to... belong to you and you belong to me, wait, I think I worded something wrong. I just don't want to be treated like an... object, not like you're treating me like that, I just-" his brown eyes dragged upwards when Francis placed two fingers under his chin and gave out a small giggle.

"It's fine how it's worded. I understand the point. I thought you didn't want to be in a relationship, Archie-poo... I mean, clearly you thought about it when you were drunk but...?"

Archie didn't respond for a split second before pressing his nose to Francis's. "I didn't want to get attached but it seemingly appears that my heart is a sucker for a French accent and for someone who is taller by an inch."

"Does this mean that...?" Francis whispered, seeing the cold frown warm up caused the Frenchman's heart to skip a beat.

"Depends on whenever you answer yes or no."

"No doubt I am saying yes!!" Squealed Francis, hearing his answer caused a sigh of relief to float out of the male's mouth.

"Eeee~~" squealed the Frenchman, throwing himself onto the Brit and cuddling the male, causing the Brit to glance up at the Frenchman. "I am so excitedddddd, Archie-poo~!!!! I am going to tell everyone!!"

"W-wait. Can we keep this to... ourselves for now?" he heard himself say. A voice within him screamed and cursed him for asking a same-sex individual to date him. "Besides, everyone already thinks we are a couple for centuries anyways..."

"I respect your feelings on the subject, Archie. Maybe some day I can show lots of public display of affection~?" Purred Francis as Archie crossed his hands from underneath the Frenchman only to heavily bite his lip when he felt a tug at his collar.

"Okay okay," he shoved the Frenchmale off of him when a knock planted itself onto the beautifully painted door.

"You okay in there, Francis? Do I need to beat him up? You're not having sex in there, are you?"

"Jesus Christ, Caiden," muttered Archie as Francis stood up, offering the Brit his hand and heaved the Burnett to his feet. "Nono, it's quite okay, I was about to leave!" The door swung open, Caiden and Pablo both had their arms crossed as Francis waved goodbye to the Brit and left the room.

And there he sat, resting his head against the bar table, the lights flicking off as the bartender nudged the Brit. "Time to go home."

"I don't want to, honestly."

"Why not? Don't you have a wife and kids?"

"No, sorry I am late, dear-" he heard the Frenchman rush towards him, kissing the tired Brit's cheek. The Brit let out a drunk huff as Francis heaved him onto his back as the Brit waved goodbye to the bartender, blowing a drunk kiss to the hairy individual.

"The alcohol was meh, prettyboots~."

"That's cause wine is better than alcohol, dear," responded Francis as Archie softly sniffed the blond's lavender-rose hair. He smooshed his cheek against the male's scalp as footsteps followed behind em.

"Did he get drunk again?"

"Yeah but it's fine."

"On your birthday of all days? Did he at least hang out??"

"Of course I did!" Hiccuped Archie, who only flashed the blurry individual the middle finger. "Who do you think made him pregnant???!?"

"Ummm, what?"

"He's drunk, take everything with a grain of salt,"

"Anyways! I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, what are you planning on doing later tonight~?"

"Trust me, you don't wanna know," chuckled Archie and he snuggled his face into the back of Francis's neck.

"Making sure he doesn't hurt himself like usual, why?"

"Oh. Oh. Sorry for wasting your time." The individual's voice seemed to fade away as Francis unlocked his home and carried the drunk inside.

"Who was that???"

"Just someone that enjoys my company, I guess. Pablo told me that they had a crush on me."

"wHO???"

"Not telling, I don't want you freaking out," laughed the Frenchman.. "Especially when they are close to you." Francis mumbled that to himself and Archie couldn't put two-and-two together.

As Francis trotted up the stairs, Archie only let out a small groan. "I don't wanna sleeeeep."

"Oh shush. We all know that you'll be out when you hit the sheets," Francis rolled his eyes as he dropped the male on the bed and climbed onto the soft blankets and sheets, turning the lights off.

Rustling next to the Frenchman didn't alarm him until the Brit whispered, "I don't want to sleeeeeep."

"Pfft, fine," Francis rolled his eyes as he softly locked their lips together in the darkness. However, someone was onto their relationship even before it became official...

Words: 4071

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