"Hush, you stubborn creature." "I'm not... a creature."//☕•🥖Sickness and cuddles

Francis takes care of a very stubborn and sick Arthur

Request by @mnmsaregood

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A/N:

Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy these two jolly little idiots

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Arthur is currently buried under five different layers of wool blankets, looking less like a proud nation and more like a disgruntled burrito. A vicious seasonal flu has left him pale, shivering, and most tragically completely incapable of maintaining his usual prickly dignity.

"I told you, I don't need your ridiculous French soup," Arthur croaks from beneath the duvet, his voice cracking painfully. "I need silence and perhaps some proper tea."

Francis appears in the doorway like a dramatic specter, carrying a steaming bowl and wearing an apron that Arthur is *certain* says something embarrassing like 'Kiss the Cook.' "Non, non, Arthur. Your British tea is depressing. This is a delicate consommé infused with herbs that will heal your very soul."

"My soul is fine, it's my sinuses that are dying," Arthur huffs, though he immediately breaks into a fit of coughing that makes him curl into a tighter ball.

Francis's playful demeanor vanishes instantly. The teasing smirk drops, replaced by genuine concern. He sets the soup aside and crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hush, you stubborn creature." He presses a cool cloth to Arthur's burning forehead with surprising gentleness.

"I'm not... a creature," Arthur mumbles, but his eyes flutter shut at the soothing contact.

For the next hour, the comedy fades into something tender. Francis patiently coaxes Arthur to take small sips of the broth, blowing on each spoonful to ensure it isn't too hot. When Arthur complains about the chills, Francis doesn't argue; he simply climbs onto the bed beside him, offering his own body heat through the blankets.

"You're insufferable," Arthur whispers into the pillow, his breathing finally evening out as the fever begins to break.

"And you are a terrible patient," Francis counters softly, pressing a kiss to Arthur's temple. "But you are *my* terrible patient."

Hetalia, France, England, United Kingdom, Francis Bonnefoy, Arthur Kirkland