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hetalia2011-09-15 02:50 pm
lady-phenyx.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-09-15 02:50 pm
Entry tags:
[Fanfic] Dance With Me? (with bonus FST)
Title: Dance With Me?
Genre: Fluff
Pairing/Characters: England, France, appearances by America and Canada
Rating/Warnings: G
Summary: Done for the APH Fluffathon: Prompt 32. Slow dancing while an old gramophone plays with quick kisses and dipping - England/France
Someday, their bosses were going to have to give in and hire more help for the various world conferences, England mentally grumbled as he dragged the last chair into the mostly empty storeroom. The broken ones would have to stay there until someone could fix them – preferably America or Russia, since it was their fault the chairs were broken in the first place. He looked around irritably – he thought he was a bit of a packrat, but there were limits…why on earth were they keeping a giant plush giraffe in the conference center, for goodness’ sake?
“Mon petit lapin, come see what I have found!” France’s voice sounded entirely too joyful, and mentally sighing at both the nickname – which France refused to drop despite nearly a thousand years of protest – and France’s glee, which rarely boasted well for him, England went to see. It was easier than being dragged over, after all.
France was grinning as he brushed off the large trumpet of the gramophone he’d unearthed, hefting the thing onto a table. There was a box of records next to it, and France flipped through them as England watched with raised eyebrows. Grinning wider, France chose a record, putting it onto the gramophone and switching it on.
The music began to pour from the gramophone’s trumpet, and it took England a moment to recognize it. Moonlight Serenade. Slightly confused but indulging France in his momentary oddity – goodness knew they’d had enough time to get used to each other acting oddly – England watched as France swayed to the music.
With the smoothness of moonlight sliding over silk (England cursed himself for even thinking in such sappy, romance-novel prose, but France brought out the worst in him) France slipped his arms around England and moved them into a dance.
“Do you remember, Angleterre?” he asked softly in England’s ear as the other blushed and half heartedly protested as he tried to move France’s arms. “How we danced to this as our people celebrated the end of the war?” He gave England a little spin and pulled him in close again. “The first time you said you loved me?”
“I said ‘Glad you didn’t die, frog’,” England retorted. “That’s hardly a confession.”
France chuckled, laying his hand on England’s lower back, pulling him closer, and England allowed him, each thinking of that first dance. France had just begun to recover, just barely able to dance, and they’d danced on top of the Arc d’Triumph, an impulse of France’s England hadn’t had the heart to deny, not when they’d just come through so much, when France had almost shamefacedly admitted he hadn’t danced for himself since the ball to celebrate the mockery of a treaty Germany’s boss had forced on them.
There had been a record player then, too, somewhere down below, and it had seemed to be playing just for them.
Burying his face in sandy blonde hair, France inhaled the scent that was pure England, overlaid with the woodsy cologne he’d donned for the meeting. He heard England sigh against his neck, a soft puff of air that was half amusement and half irritation. Still, he didn’t pull away as they swayed, the gentle music lulling them into a half dance. When the song ended, they pulled away from each other almost reluctantly.
The next song opened, and this time England stepped into France’s arms as the brass began, blushing furiously. France laid his hands on England with tenderness others wouldn’t expect from them, and England nuzzled, just a little. A quick spin and England found himself against France, his back to France’s chest, as they swayed. He allowed himself a few moments of being held before he twisted to face France.
England urged France into a spin this time, and as the lyrics began, blushing harder than ever, England pulled him close and did as they asked, Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, stealing quick, tiny kisses from the surprised France, cheek, nose and mouth.
Blinking in surprise, France blushed, and England buried his laughter in France’s shoulder. He came back up for air and found France smiling at him, the soft, genuine smile that made his heart do a slow somersault. Suddenly France dipped him, long and slow and low, and he clutched at France’s shoulders reflexively before he relaxed. He and France argued, they fought, but France wouldn’t drop him. He almost pulled himself up as he realized…he trusted the frog. Then the line came again and he forgot his surprise revelation as France obeyed, Kiss me once on the nose, Then kiss me twice on the cheek, Then kiss me once again, a slow, soft kiss on the mouth.
Blushing faintly, England gave in to the moment and trailed his hand along France’ cheek before lifting his face in invitation. He linked his arms behind France’s neck as the other lowered his face, almost purring as they kissed, soft and sweet and gentle.
“AUUGH! MY EYES!”
Startled, England jerked, but France, being France, continued to kiss him as he slowly righted them. Only when he was finished did he release England.
In the doorway, America continued to make gagging noises while behind him Canada hugged Kumajirou and looked amused.
“…Would you calm down, you bloody git!”
“So nasty! It’s like watching my parents make out!”
Canada rolled his eyes and grabbed America’s hand, tugging him away. “Sorry about that, call you later okay? America, would you stop that?”
After the door closed they could still faintly hear America ranting to his brother. England huffed and crossed his arms, muttering to himself. France was still chuckling behind him.
“…it’s not funny, frog.”
“I would say it is, mes sourcils préférés. The children, they will never grow up. Now then,” he purred, wrapping his arms around a blushing England, “where were we?”
“…I’m leaving now.”
“Come now mes mignon lapin, one more dance,” France asked as the record went into Dream a Little Dream of Me. England hesitated…he did like that song…
England huffed, but stepped back into France’s arms, who had known him long enough to know better than to say anything.
And they danced.
Songs used: Midnight Serenade by the Glenn Miller Orchestra, It’s Been a Long, Long Time by Helen Forrest, and Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.
I had a lot of trouble deciding on music for this story, so I thought I'd share the top contenders in my first FST.
Track List:
The Glenn Miller Orchestra - Moonlight Serenade
Helen Forrest - It's Been a Long, Long Time
Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Dream a Little Dream of Me
Doris Day - A Sentimental Journey
Frank Sinatra - Always
Unknown - Love is the Sweetest Thing
Nat King Cole - Fascination
Frank Sinatra - As Time Goes By
Vera Lynn - We'll Meet Again
Unknown - Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful
Frank Sinatra - Night and Day
Jo Stafford - Begin the Beguine
Doris Day - I'm in the Mood for Love
Mel Torme - P.S. I Love You
Fred Astaire - They Can't Take That Away From Me
Frank Sinatra - Moonlight Serenade
Edith Piaf - La Vie En Rose
Download link: Megaupload
Genre: Fluff
Pairing/Characters: England, France, appearances by America and Canada
Rating/Warnings: G
Summary: Done for the APH Fluffathon: Prompt 32. Slow dancing while an old gramophone plays with quick kisses and dipping - England/France
Someday, their bosses were going to have to give in and hire more help for the various world conferences, England mentally grumbled as he dragged the last chair into the mostly empty storeroom. The broken ones would have to stay there until someone could fix them – preferably America or Russia, since it was their fault the chairs were broken in the first place. He looked around irritably – he thought he was a bit of a packrat, but there were limits…why on earth were they keeping a giant plush giraffe in the conference center, for goodness’ sake?
“Mon petit lapin, come see what I have found!” France’s voice sounded entirely too joyful, and mentally sighing at both the nickname – which France refused to drop despite nearly a thousand years of protest – and France’s glee, which rarely boasted well for him, England went to see. It was easier than being dragged over, after all.
France was grinning as he brushed off the large trumpet of the gramophone he’d unearthed, hefting the thing onto a table. There was a box of records next to it, and France flipped through them as England watched with raised eyebrows. Grinning wider, France chose a record, putting it onto the gramophone and switching it on.
The music began to pour from the gramophone’s trumpet, and it took England a moment to recognize it. Moonlight Serenade. Slightly confused but indulging France in his momentary oddity – goodness knew they’d had enough time to get used to each other acting oddly – England watched as France swayed to the music.
With the smoothness of moonlight sliding over silk (England cursed himself for even thinking in such sappy, romance-novel prose, but France brought out the worst in him) France slipped his arms around England and moved them into a dance.
“Do you remember, Angleterre?” he asked softly in England’s ear as the other blushed and half heartedly protested as he tried to move France’s arms. “How we danced to this as our people celebrated the end of the war?” He gave England a little spin and pulled him in close again. “The first time you said you loved me?”
“I said ‘Glad you didn’t die, frog’,” England retorted. “That’s hardly a confession.”
France chuckled, laying his hand on England’s lower back, pulling him closer, and England allowed him, each thinking of that first dance. France had just begun to recover, just barely able to dance, and they’d danced on top of the Arc d’Triumph, an impulse of France’s England hadn’t had the heart to deny, not when they’d just come through so much, when France had almost shamefacedly admitted he hadn’t danced for himself since the ball to celebrate the mockery of a treaty Germany’s boss had forced on them.
There had been a record player then, too, somewhere down below, and it had seemed to be playing just for them.
Burying his face in sandy blonde hair, France inhaled the scent that was pure England, overlaid with the woodsy cologne he’d donned for the meeting. He heard England sigh against his neck, a soft puff of air that was half amusement and half irritation. Still, he didn’t pull away as they swayed, the gentle music lulling them into a half dance. When the song ended, they pulled away from each other almost reluctantly.
The next song opened, and this time England stepped into France’s arms as the brass began, blushing furiously. France laid his hands on England with tenderness others wouldn’t expect from them, and England nuzzled, just a little. A quick spin and England found himself against France, his back to France’s chest, as they swayed. He allowed himself a few moments of being held before he twisted to face France.
England urged France into a spin this time, and as the lyrics began, blushing harder than ever, England pulled him close and did as they asked, Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, stealing quick, tiny kisses from the surprised France, cheek, nose and mouth.
Blinking in surprise, France blushed, and England buried his laughter in France’s shoulder. He came back up for air and found France smiling at him, the soft, genuine smile that made his heart do a slow somersault. Suddenly France dipped him, long and slow and low, and he clutched at France’s shoulders reflexively before he relaxed. He and France argued, they fought, but France wouldn’t drop him. He almost pulled himself up as he realized…he trusted the frog. Then the line came again and he forgot his surprise revelation as France obeyed, Kiss me once on the nose, Then kiss me twice on the cheek, Then kiss me once again, a slow, soft kiss on the mouth.
Blushing faintly, England gave in to the moment and trailed his hand along France’ cheek before lifting his face in invitation. He linked his arms behind France’s neck as the other lowered his face, almost purring as they kissed, soft and sweet and gentle.
“AUUGH! MY EYES!”
Startled, England jerked, but France, being France, continued to kiss him as he slowly righted them. Only when he was finished did he release England.
In the doorway, America continued to make gagging noises while behind him Canada hugged Kumajirou and looked amused.
“…Would you calm down, you bloody git!”
“So nasty! It’s like watching my parents make out!”
Canada rolled his eyes and grabbed America’s hand, tugging him away. “Sorry about that, call you later okay? America, would you stop that?”
After the door closed they could still faintly hear America ranting to his brother. England huffed and crossed his arms, muttering to himself. France was still chuckling behind him.
“…it’s not funny, frog.”
“I would say it is, mes sourcils préférés. The children, they will never grow up. Now then,” he purred, wrapping his arms around a blushing England, “where were we?”
“…I’m leaving now.”
“Come now mes mignon lapin, one more dance,” France asked as the record went into Dream a Little Dream of Me. England hesitated…he did like that song…
England huffed, but stepped back into France’s arms, who had known him long enough to know better than to say anything.
And they danced.
Songs used: Midnight Serenade by the Glenn Miller Orchestra, It’s Been a Long, Long Time by Helen Forrest, and Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.
I had a lot of trouble deciding on music for this story, so I thought I'd share the top contenders in my first FST.
Track List:
The Glenn Miller Orchestra - Moonlight Serenade
Helen Forrest - It's Been a Long, Long Time
Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Dream a Little Dream of Me
Doris Day - A Sentimental Journey
Frank Sinatra - Always
Unknown - Love is the Sweetest Thing
Nat King Cole - Fascination
Frank Sinatra - As Time Goes By
Vera Lynn - We'll Meet Again
Unknown - Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful
Frank Sinatra - Night and Day
Jo Stafford - Begin the Beguine
Doris Day - I'm in the Mood for Love
Mel Torme - P.S. I Love You
Fred Astaire - They Can't Take That Away From Me
Frank Sinatra - Moonlight Serenade
Edith Piaf - La Vie En Rose
Download link: Megaupload
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