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Description
Leave it to me to do the fruk request first but oh well

"You can stay in the guest bedroom," Francis offered, in what he thought was a gracious tone. Seeing England's face, though, made him immediately regret that he even offered.
"The guest room?" the Briton spluttered. "At your house? I really don't want to stay here, thank you-" He flinched upon hearing a crash of thunder and instinctively drew closer to France without realising it. When he saw France's smirk, he flushed a little bit and smacked the Frenchman's shoulder. "Sh-shut up."
France shrugged, rubbing his shoulder with a fake hurt look. "You can always go home in this storm. I don't mind, Mon Angleterre. It's just I don't think you would like that, am I right?" he asked, in a softer tone than usual. "The guest room is right across from mine. It's not like you're going to be alone."
England was about to say something snippy before France leaned over and kissed the Briton's cheek. "I'll be here if you need me, alright, Mon cher?" The Frenchman smiled gently when he saw England's blush, and reached up to ruffle the other's hair before heading down to his own bedroom. England stared after him with a red face and a really confused expression.

Arthur stared out his window blankly, trying his hardest not to flinch each time a crash of thunder occurred and failing quite miserably. But he wouldn't swallow his pride to go across the hallway down to France's room. The Briton wasn't that afraid of storms, after all!
..... Okay, maybe he was.
He let out a soft gasp when a flash of lightning lit up his entire bedroom, illuminating himself and everything behind him. Screwing his eyes shut tight, he waited for the inevitable follow-up crash of thunder. And CRASH-there it was.
Arthur swallowed his damn pride, scrabbled off the bed, and quite literally flew out of his bedroom and into Francis's. "FRANCIS!" he nearly yelled, crashing into the bed and falling clumsily upon it. He landed right atop of Francis, who let out a groan and covered his face.
".... Bonjour, Angleterre," the Frenchman muttered, sitting up and helping England up. He blinked as England immediately slid his arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. France looked down at his petite Arthur trembling in fear. He let out a soft sigh and ran his hand in Arthur's golden locks gently as he rubbed the other's back. Even after all these years, England was still terrified of storms. It honestly made Francis worry; shouldn't he have gotten over it by now? It has been since their childhood, after all. And each year, it just seemed to progress. Arthur was growing more and more terrified of each passing storm.
And yet, he wouldn't stuff his pride away and allow France to come over each time there was a storm. All France wanted to do, after all, was comfort his petite Angleterre. Nothing more, nothing less. However, when there wasn't a storm and Arthur invited him over.. now that was a different storey.
France was jerked out his thoughts by England nuzzling into his chest, letting out quiet whimpers. "Fr-Francis, I'm scared.. I c-can't seem to hold myself together during storms," the Briton confessed, tightening his hold upon Francis. It seemed like he was going to strangle the poor Frenchman.
Francis let out a soft gasp, wincing slightly in pain. He closed one eye as he tilted his head, and tried his hardest to loosen England's grip without actually hurting the Briton's feelings. "Non, don't worry about it, Mon petite cher," the Frenchman murmured comfortingly, tilting England's head up and meeting the other's emerald gaze. "You're nothing if brave in storms. Because you survived, did you not?" The older male smiled softly as he leaned down to kiss England, trying to distract his Briton.
England had tried to respond, but upon feeling Francis kiss him, he melted into the other's warmth and kissed back. He needed this, he really did. He slowly loosened his hold and moved his arms up around France's neck. Tilting his head, he closed his eyes slowly and just went along with the flow, glad to have something to distract him. And Francis was a very good distractor.
The Frenchman pulled back after another moment, cupping England's face with both hands and offering a smile. He loved when England slowly opened his eyes and their beautiful emerald colour was available for Francis to see. "Oh, Angleterre- Non, Mon petite cher Arthur, Je t'aime," the Frenchman said furtively. "More than anything else in the world. Even if you are scared during thunderstorms."
Arthur began protesting by saying, "I-I am not bloody scared-", but Francis cut him off with another kiss. The Frenchman began peppering England's face with little kisses before settling upon his mouth again. England smiled gently and kissed France back, mumbling as he did so, "Je t'aime aussi."
And the storm didn't bother him anymore that night.

Description
Leave it to me to do the fruk request first but oh well

"You can stay in the guest bedroom," Francis offered, in what he thought was a gracious tone. Seeing England's face, though, made him immediately regret that he even offered.
"The guest room?" the Briton spluttered. "At your house? I really don't want to stay here, thank you-" He flinched upon hearing a crash of thunder and instinctively drew closer to France without realising it. When he saw France's smirk, he flushed a little bit and smacked the Frenchman's shoulder. "Sh-shut up."
France shrugged, rubbing his shoulder with a fake hurt look. "You can always go home in this storm. I don't mind, Mon Angleterre. It's just I don't think you would like that, am I right?" he asked, in a softer tone than usual. "The guest room is right across from mine. It's not like you're going to be alone."
England was about to say something snippy before France leaned over and kissed the Briton's cheek. "I'll be here if you need me, alright, Mon cher?" The Frenchman smiled gently when he saw England's blush, and reached up to ruffle the other's hair before heading down to his own bedroom. England stared after him with a red face and a really confused expression.

Arthur stared out his window blankly, trying his hardest not to flinch each time a crash of thunder occurred and failing quite miserably. But he wouldn't swallow his pride to go across the hallway down to France's room. The Briton wasn't that afraid of storms, after all!
..... Okay, maybe he was.
He let out a soft gasp when a flash of lightning lit up his entire bedroom, illuminating himself and everything behind him. Screwing his eyes shut tight, he waited for the inevitable follow-up crash of thunder. And CRASH-there it was.
Arthur swallowed his damn pride, scrabbled off the bed, and quite literally flew out of his bedroom and into Francis's. "FRANCIS!" he nearly yelled, crashing into the bed and falling clumsily upon it. He landed right atop of Francis, who let out a groan and covered his face.
".... Bonjour, Angleterre," the Frenchman muttered, sitting up and helping England up. He blinked as England immediately slid his arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. France looked down at his petite Arthur trembling in fear. He let out a soft sigh and ran his hand in Arthur's golden locks gently as he rubbed the other's back. Even after all these years, England was still terrified of storms. It honestly made Francis worry; shouldn't he have gotten over it by now? It has been since their childhood, after all. And each year, it just seemed to progress. Arthur was growing more and more terrified of each passing storm.
And yet, he wouldn't stuff his pride away and allow France to come over each time there was a storm. All France wanted to do, after all, was comfort his petite Angleterre. Nothing more, nothing less. However, when there wasn't a storm and Arthur invited him over.. now that was a different storey.
France was jerked out his thoughts by England nuzzling into his chest, letting out quiet whimpers. "Fr-Francis, I'm scared.. I c-can't seem to hold myself together during storms," the Briton confessed, tightening his hold upon Francis. It seemed like he was going to strangle the poor Frenchman.
Francis let out a soft gasp, wincing slightly in pain. He closed one eye as he tilted his head, and tried his hardest to loosen England's grip without actually hurting the Briton's feelings. "Non, don't worry about it, Mon petite cher," the Frenchman murmured comfortingly, tilting England's head up and meeting the other's emerald gaze. "You're nothing if brave in storms. Because you survived, did you not?" The older male smiled softly as he leaned down to kiss England, trying to distract his Briton.
England had tried to respond, but upon feeling Francis kiss him, he melted into the other's warmth and kissed back. He needed this, he really did. He slowly loosened his hold and moved his arms up around France's neck. Tilting his head, he closed his eyes slowly and just went along with the flow, glad to have something to distract him. And Francis was a very good distractor.
The Frenchman pulled back after another moment, cupping England's face with both hands and offering a smile. He loved when England slowly opened his eyes and their beautiful emerald colour was available for Francis to see. "Oh, Angleterre- Non, Mon petite cher Arthur, Je t'aime," the Frenchman said furtively. "More than anything else in the world. Even if you are scared during thunderstorms."
Arthur began protesting by saying, "I-I am not bloody scared-", but Francis cut him off with another kiss. The Frenchman began peppering England's face with little kisses before settling upon his mouth again. England smiled gently and kissed France back, mumbling as he did so, "Je t'aime aussi."
And the storm didn't bother him anymore that night.