Talk Too Much: Waiter!EnglandXReader

You shouldn't have gone with him, you really shouldn't have. You and France had recently gotten into an argument. France had been bad touching you again. To make it up to you, he was taking you out to dinner, his treat, to fancy French Restaurant. How could you deny the French cuisine, especially when someone else was picking up the tab? You couldn't deny you were hungry either. After a grueling meeting, without even England to keep your stresses off your mind, you wanted food and sleep. For some reason the British nation hadn't shown up. You were worried. Naturally, France wasn't.

So you sat at the table, waiting with Francis for the waiter to show up. You hadn't realized that with going with the Frenchman, it looked like a date. How you wished England had been there. He would have made you see sense before you had gotten into the situation. However, as you looked around, your face burned. All of the servers were men, wearing revealing uniforms. It was like a high class strip joint that served food, only the strippers were the waiters. You glanced over your shoulder when the kitchen door opened. Your eyes widened. You could hear Francis laughing at your gaping expression.

The British nation didn't notice you. His thick eyebrows were furrowed as he moved around the tables slowly and stiffly with as much dignity as he could muster (which could really put a lot of people to shame). His tousled hair was in that way that looked like he just got out of bed but still looked perfect. His defined chest, dusky nipples and slight hints at a six pack were displayed for all to see. Several women looked up from their meals to appraise this new waiter. The small black apron tied around his waist was just under the navel. It barely covered anything as it stopped short from his thighs, creasing as he walked. And he stopped at your table. 'Oh dear god, I'm going to die!' you thought in a panic. You shot a glare at the Frenchman who merely smiled.

You swallowed thickly when short wrist cuffs reached around you and took your glass, filling it with water. You could feel a long silk black tie brushing against the back of your neck. You squeaked. Was he doing this on purpose? Had Francis planned this? You really hoped not. You had a crush on England, yes, but for him to purposely tease you in front of so many people when you weren't together, it hurt. You looked down at the napkin in your lap. Your fingers twisted in the material and you scowled darkly. You looked up to see Francis resting his chin on his hands, leaning forward with a smug smile on his face. Sheer mortification crossed England's face. He set your glass down and quickly stepped away. He struggled to remain dignified, even as he surreptitiously tried to tug the apron down to cover up.

"Bonjour, mon cher," Franics cooed, "___________ and I were in ze area so we decided to stop by… Isn't zat right, ______________?"

"_-____________?" Arthur squeaked.

You looked up, trying only to look at his face. You only saw him shirtless when he went to America's birthday bash last year because America had decided to have it by the ocean. All of the nations invited went swimming all day and saw fireworks that night. England even avoided getting drunk – a big leap for him. You talked to him the entire time during the party, partly to keep him from yelling at America but because you liked talking with him. Your crush on him was something that Francis had figured out. He often teased you about it. He was probably never going to let you live this down for about a couple hundred years.

"H-Hello, E-England…" you whispered softly.

Arthur offered you a weak smile, practically letting you off the hook for even appearing at the restaurant. But then England quickly rounded on France with an angry expression. At least he wasn't taking it out on you for being there. He apparently knew that you didn't decide to go to the restaurant on your own. You didn't even know about the restaurant until France had pulled into the parking lot. This wasn't exactly one of the top restaurants that came to mind when you were hungry. However, when you saw the other patrons staring at your table, you sank in your seat. You wanted to die. You put your menu up to hide your red face.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" England hissed, "Are you trying to emb-"

"We are trying to order, mon cher…" Francis said, as if hurt.

England breathed out slowly, trying to calm down. So many people were staring at your table now. You wanted to melt into the floor and die. However you wanted to yell at the other women for staring at Arthur as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat to eat. You could feel a burning sensation in your chest and you glowered darkly at any of the women staring at him. The giggling was really starting to get on your nerves. What were these women? High school students? They sure acted a lot like it. Then England nodded his head. Apparently he calmed down enough to do whatever it is his job was. Why was he even working there in the first place? If it was because of financial troubles, you would have been more than happy to lend him money.

"Fine… What would you like?"

"Water," you said.

You wanted this meal over with as quickly as possible. Francis wouldn't let you go without eating so you would get things that didn't take cooking – salad and a water. The faster you got out of there, the better. However, you had a feeling Francis wouldn't make it that easy for you. It could never be easy for you, could it? Not when the French Nation was involved. You wanted to slam your head against the table. This simply wasn't your day. The migraine headache that persisted since the meeting came back with a brutal vengeance. You resisted the temptation to groan and hid your face behind your menu once more.

"No! No!" Francis cried, "You come to my city, you must have wine wiz dinner!"

"I'm fine with water…" you protested.

"Two glasses of finest red wine," Francis ordered, "And make it snappy!"

England grumbled under his breath as he wrote down the order. You looked to him, pleading for him not to get you red wine. You didn't want to risk getting drunk around Francis. Who knew what he would do if you got drunk? Last time America did, hundreds of embarrassing pictures flooded Facebook for the entire world to see. He raised his tray in an oddly proud but defeated manner as he turned on his heel. You quickly turned away as well. A blush appeared on your face so bright that it made its way all the way up to your hair line. Apparently, even with boy shorts, the waiter's uniform didn't hide anything.

-=-=-=-=-

All throughout dinner, Francis had teased you relentlessly about how you reacted to England. He made the man do all sorts of things, just because he could. It angered you how poorly he was treating England. So after dinner, you stayed at the restaurant, refusing to go home with the Frenchman. You told him you had other plans with Canada that you just remembered. He believed you because he often forgot about Canada. So you waited outside the restaurant, hoping that England would get off soon so you could apologize for what Francis had done. You were just about to give up when Arthur staggered out, looking exhausted.

"E-England?"

He turned to look at you, surprise written on his face. You held out a bag of clothes for him. You had bought him new clothes, because Francis told you that England was not allowed to bring a change of clothes with him to work. As if it could be called work. You had lied and told the cashier than your boyfriend needed a new change of clothes to meet your parents, as to explain why you were getting guys' clothes when she questioned you. She bought the lie. This was embarrassing for you. But England gratefully took the bag of clothes inside and changed. You were still waiting outside for him when he stepped out. He blushed darkly when he saw you.

"Sorry about that… I hope that Frog didn't try anything," Arthur said.

"N-No…" you stammered, "Listen, England I-"

"You don't need to apologize."

The two of you then started to walk away from the 'restaurant'. You didn't comment on how your arm was now placed safely in the crook of his own arm and he gently led you along. Though you did blush, considering you knew what was underneath that button up shirt. How was he in that great of shape? It seemed unfair. Granted, the button up shirt was thin and now you could feel each muscle rippling underneath the fabric. It sent a shiver down your spine. He may have not have been the world power anymore but he was a world power all the same. He was a force to be reckoned with and your country was in his favor.

"So um… Why were you there? I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I don't want to make you-"

"You're rambling again, poppet…" Arthur said.

You blushed even darker now, hoping that the darkness of the night would conceal it from him. The last thing you wanted was to look like a fool in front of him. His opinion of you was the most important of any nation you knew. However, a sly smirk slid across his face. This was just the chance he had been waiting for. He never got a chance to be alone with you because the other nations always interrupted him when he was trying to talk to you. He caught it after all but you hadn't realized that until he took a hold of your arm and made you look at him. Your heart began to pound in your chest like a drum.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"N-No!" you squeaked.

Now you noticed that the two of you had stopped walking. Arthur smiled at you, in a way that reminded you of the scourge of the seas he used to be. It made your heart leap in its chest. He was getting closer to you. Why was he getting closer to you!? You felt your heart pounding in your throat about that moment. Your back hit the wall behind you. Your hands were frozen at your sides. You didn't want to dare to think this meant what you thought it did. You had to fight to keep your breathing controlled.

"I was there because Francis has some information about me that I didn't want anyone else to know… Not until I was ready to talk about it."

You shivered though you weren't sure if it meant that you scared or anticipating something. Truthfully, France knew about how England felt about you. He threatened to tell you how England had a crush on you. England wanted to tell you himself, but every time he tried, America would pull you away, he would get into a fight with France, you would get into a deep conversation with Japan or you would talk to Switzerland and Liechtenstein. And you realized this too. You never really got to spend as much time with England as you wanted. Every time he offered you over for tea, you had to go to someone else's house under orders from your boss. You never really had time for things you wanted to do when it came to visiting the other nations.

"W-wha-?"

"I'm afraid you talk too much, poppet…"

Your eyes widened and he kissed you firmly.