Author's notes: Wow, been a long time since I uploaded anything. Or even been on the site, for that matter. Anyway, I know this is kind of after the fact (the Olympics were months ago), but I only recently got into Hetalia, and when I had this idea, I couldn't help but write it. It'll either stay as a one-shot, or I might write a small epilogue, I'm not sure yet.
Summary: Matthew insists that it just further proves his point of Canadian superiority. Alfred just wants an asprin.
Rating: T for swearing.
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. If it was, there'd be a lot more about Canada.
ooooooooooooooooooooo
A cool breeze swept through empty streets. The air practically hummed with excitement. Across an entire continent, one word was on everyone's lips.
Hockey.
This was it. The gold medal match of the 2010 Olympics. America against Canada in the match of the century. One determined to prove himself once and for all, the other equally determined to show him who was boss.
Alfred F. Jones settled comfortably in his seat in the VIP box, admiring the excellent view of the hockey rink. He was decked out in red, white, and blue, as was befitting of the personification of the United States of America. He could feel the excitement of the millions of people of his country coursing through him, and grinned in anticipation.
Beside him in the box sat Matthew Williams, also known as Canada. He had covered himself from head to toe in red, white, and maple leafs. Even his tiny polar bear, Kumajiro, was wearing a red scarf. Matthew was practically bouncing in his seat, mirroring the fans below them as they waited for the game to start.
"There's too much red and white and not enough blue." Alfred decided. "Too many Canadians in here and not enough Americans."
Matthew grinned. "Not my fault my people snapped up all the tickets before yours could get them." He watched as the jumbotron showed a brief live feed from various cities. Anyplace with a TV was jam-packed; anywhere else was deserted. "Man, the whole continent must be tuning in."
America laughed. "Of course they are! Today is the day I put you in your place once and for all!"
"In your dreams!" Canada retorted. "My team will crush yours like a handful of ants!"
Whatever reply Alfred made was lost in the roar of the crowd as the two teams emerged and began their warm-up skate. The announcers started to rattle off statistics as flashbulbs went off in the stands and news cameras zoomed in on athlete after waved the flag he had brought, cheering loudly as each player was announced. Alfred grinned, cheering his own team at equal volume.
The game soon kicked off into a fierce battle, the arena echoing with the clatter of wood on wood and wood on ice over the background of the crowds. Each shot, foul, and bodyslam was met with a surge in volume, until....
"GOAAAAL!"
Alfred covered his ears, startled, at the deafening roar. Who'd have thought his brother, now on his feet and dancing with Kumajiro, could cheer so loud? Matthew settled back into his seat, leaning forward to better see the action below. The levels of excitement charging the air seemed to have increased tenfold, now that first blood had been drawn.
"Give up yet?" Canada grinned at his brother?
"In your dreams. It's only halfway into the first period." America snorted. "Your man got lucky, you're still going down."
Canada laughed. "We'll just see about that."
The game continued at a heated pace as the second period began. Suddenly Matthew was on his feet, yelling curses in a mix of French and English at the American player who had just decked a Canadian with his stick. As the instant replay flashed across the giant screens, the referee was quick to call the foul. Alfred scowled, furious that the power play would increase the Canadian team's chances.
In the end, the power play made no difference. It was over before a second cry of "GOAAAAAL!" had the younger blonde on his feet once again, pumping his fists above his head.
"YES! YES! Take THAT!" Canada hollered, causing America to lean away from his twin in an effort to spare his ears. He would swear the cheering was tens of decibels louder than it had been the previous time, and he desperately hoped it wouldn't get any louder.
The delight was short-lived, however. Six minutes later, it was Alfred's turn to roar with approval as his team scored for the first time that game. The Canadian fans bellowed their anger over the announcer's cry.
America smirked. "You're going down, Mattie."
Canada scowled. "No chance. I'm still ahead two to one, and your team took over half the game to score. I'm going to win this."
Alfred snorted, returning his attention to the ice.
The intensity of the match had increased dramatically now. Shot after shot was taken by either team, only to be blocked or miss completely. The tension rose further as they entered the third period, with no further changes to the score.
One minute left to play. Alfred wondered how anyone in the stadium still had a voice, at the volume with which the Canadians cheered their goalie's spectacular saves and boo'd the blocks of his American counterpart. He himself was shouting himself hoarse, demanding one more goal and cursing the Great White North for all he was worth.
Suddenly: "GOOOOOAAAAAAL!"
"WHAT?!" Matthew screamed next to him. "HOW THE HELL COULD YOU LET HIM SCORE? 30 SECONDS ON THE FUCKING CLOCK AND YOU LET HIM FUCKING SCORE?!"
"YES! FUCK YES!" Alfred screeched. "THIS AIN'T OVER YET, CANADA! COME ON, BOYS, DADDY NEEDS A NEW GOLD FRISBEE!"
Matthew spat a vulgar French insult at him as the third period ended and the teams were reduced to four players. Alfred gave him a triumphant smirk.
"Don't count your chickens yet, Al." Violet eyes glared at him. "Hockey is Canada's game, and we're damn well winning this."
"I'd like to see you try."
This was it. The next twenty minutes would be make or break for both teams. All across the continent, the tension was so thick you'd have needed a chainsaw just to scratch the surface of it.
Alfred was cheering, but could no longer hear himself over the roar of the Canadians in the stadium. They weren't as loud as they had been when his team had last scored, thank goodness, but the fury and bloodlust was perfectly apparent.
Then, roughly seven minutes into overtime, it happened. A Canadian player went for the goal and was blocked as the crowds bellowed. Again...and the buzzer sounded.
Alfred abruptly realized he had never truly known the meaning of the word "deafening." Anything he had heard before paled next to the clamour now raised by the Canadian fans now filling the stadium. Just when he thought his head was sure to explode from the sheer volume, he felt a sharp pain on either side of his head, eliciting a yelp that was lost in the din.
For Alfred, it was as though someone had suddenly pressed the "mute" button. He could see his brother leaping up and down and going purple in the face from the exertion of yelling, but the mind-shattering noise of the stadium had shut off. Dazed, he slumped in his seat, staring at the undulating sea of red and white.
He saw Matthew say something in his direction, but heard nothing. The smirk said it all, though. Then the younger blonde turned away to face the flags being raised above the podium, and Alfred could see his lips moving in a way that could only be the singing of the anthem.
After the medal ceremony, Alfred allowed his twin to drag him out of the stadium and into the street. Matthew was totally exuberant, yelling his exultation at anyone that passed. He turned and said something to his older brother, but the older boy just stared at him blankly. "What?"
Canada frowned, repeating himself.
"I'm sorry, Mattie, I don't know what you're saying. I think something's wrong with my hearing."
"...." Matthew stepped closer, reaching to examine Alfred's left ear. Then his shoulders moved in an unmistakable chuckle.
Alfred frowned. "What?" His own voice sounded very strange and dim to him.
Matthew tried to say something, but before he could complete his sentence he broke down completely into gales of laughter. He clutched at his middle, turning red from lack of air.
"WHAT?" Alfred demanding, now more frustrated than worried.
Matthew finally managed to regain partial control of himself. He pointed to Alfred, then pantomimed drumming. Then he moved his hands apart in a popping motion. More laughter.
"....." Blue eyes widened. "Are you saying I burst my eardrums?"
A nod. Another snicker.
"Dammit, this is not funny, Matthew!"
He couldn't read lips, but his twin's flippant gesture was unmistakeable as "the hell it isn't!"
Alfred scowled. Matthew giggled some more before finally calming down. All around them in the streets, a riotous celebration was underway. People were dancing, singing, and drawing Canadian flags all over the streets with chalk someone had produced.
Matthew smirked. He picked up a stray piece of chalk, and started to write on the sidewalk. Alfred leaned over to see the words.
"You know what this means, don't you? Not only are Canadians the best in the world at hockey, we're the best at cheering, too."
"Oh shut up."