Hetalia One-Shots

'Fight' (slight FrUk)

Warning: Slight violence and sexual themes (the whole thing is basically one big innuendo and I still don't know why I wrote it).

Francis honestly wasn't sure which one of them threw the dagger.

Honestly, neither he nor Arthur would have purposefully thrown a dagger at a very young Germany (it was narrowly stopped from hitting him by his caretaker Prussia whose arm got damaged in the process) but still it was no surprise when Prussia abruptly ended the meeting while demanding that Francis and Arthur stay until he dismissed them. Francis didn't miss the worried glances tossed in their direction as the rest of Europe fled from the conference room like rats on a sinking ship.

"Which one of you threw the knife?"

Neither answered, perhaps wisely. Francis winced as the fair-haired man pulled the dagger from his arm without so much of a twist in his sharp features.

"Now come on. One of you did it so just confess."

"Oh skip this 'who's innocent and who's guilty' routine and do with us as you like. We both very well know the rules: 'Any nation(s) at war or at peace who injures another while attending one of these bloody assemblies is to be punished accordingly, however, the injured party sees fit.'" Prussia's lips drew into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"These rules seemed to have been drawn with sadistic intentions in mind."

"You should know. You helped draw them up." He shrugged.

"I, personally, do not plan on torturing you or anyone else for that matter now or anytime in the future." He smirked. "But since you two seem to have such... pent up aggression towards one another it only seems logical that I let you release it."

There was a knock at the door just before it opened to reveal a small blond haired boy.

"B-brother?" All three nations turned their attention solely on Germany which only served to make the child more anxious.

"I'm busy Lud- Germany."

"Sorry," He said, scampering. "It's just that you said if Mister Austria or Miss Hungary ever-"

"You are not to talk to them or interact with them in anyway unless I am present. Now go back to your room."

"I- Didn't. I. Sorry."

"Now Germany."

"Y-yes sir."

The door shut.

"You know, mon amie, it's really none of my business but-"

"You're right Francis it isn't any of your damn business so-"

"Hey, Prussia, before you go at it with Francis I'd look out the window."

He did. A moment later the Prussian's expression burned with fury.

And in an instant, it disappeared. Like it had never existed in the first place.

Francis half hoped it would remain. Only momentarily. Burning bright behind vermillion eyes. Anything was better that the absolutely chilling look that had replaced it.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." He spoke airily, but Francis caught the carefully masked undercurrent of anger that seeped into his tone. "I'll have to miss this fight. Pity, it without a doubt would have been... entertaining."

"You have a very strange sense of 'entertainment'," Arthur snarled, "You're without a doubt as sick and barbaric as Austria said-" The Briton was merely waved off with a dismissive flick of the wrist. All the while, the Prussian's eyes never left the window and were starting to sport a rather glassy quality. Francis turned his lapis gaze down to the thin bloody dagger clutched in the younger man's white-knuckled grip, thin lines of crimson fluid fell from his sleeve from the wound he sustained earlier and onto the floor.