Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
Artist/Author: Sarah Ann Dibble (Sasako)
Title: Lay Me To Sleep
Pairing: America X Canada
Rating: M
Genre: Erotic
Timeline: August 1, 2011; alternate universe
Summary: Canada was home alone again until America decided to invite himself over and ask for a selfish request.
Warning: YAOI
Status: Complete (OneShot)
Canada lay on the soft twin bed staring up at the ceiling shrouded in darkness. His heart never slowed. Body fidgeted. The constant squeaking of bed springs filled the air.
He turned his head toward the digital clock on the washstand next to him. 10:16pm. Two hours have passed since he fell on his bed waiting for sleep to take him, not bothering to change out of his clothes. He spoke in a low, almost inaudible tone. "It's all his fault."
Thoughts of America caused him to gnaw at his lower lip. A metallic taste started to form on his tongue.
10:22pm. Sleeping wasn't an option anymore. He sprung up into a sitting position. What could he do to kill these persistent thoughts? His stomach growled reminding him that he hasn't eaten since yesterday. Perhaps he should get something.
He twisted out of bed and stumbled. Automatically, he put his hand on the bed to catch himself. Arms extended, he walked toward the door while trying not to bump into anything that obstructed him. Finally, he found the cold sphere and turned it. The door opened and the darkness continued. He edged his way into the hallway looking for the light switch. His hand came across a protrusion in the wall and flipped it up. The kitchen illuminated. He blinked quickly and squinted so that his eyes could adjust to the brightness.
He eyed the kitchen wondering where he could find his dinner. Should he cook something? No. That would mean he would have to clean up. His legs carried him to the fridge that rested on the opposite side of the kitchen. He gripped the handle and pulled. As a rush of cool air flew out brushing against his face, he inspected the contents of the fridge. A stack of fluffy pancakes stared at him. All he would have to do is warm them up. Quick and easy. He stole the pancakes from its shelf and placed them in the microwave that was to the right of the fridge, above the stove. While the pancakes were warming up he began setting the table, but not without thoughts of America seeping through his mind again.
He should have never spent more than he had.
He should have never borrowed all that money.
He should have never have decided to default.
The knife and fork made a loud 'clang' noise when they met the table's surface.
America makes up 1/5 of the world's wealth and ¾ of of my foreign trades. There is no way I can escape financial trouble, no way at all. If only he had decided to raised the debt ceiling. It would have gotten him further in debt, but that's better than the effects of a default.
The bottle of maple syrup and glass of milk were the next victims of Canada's anger. He wanted so badly to speak his mind to his irresponsible brother; tell him everything that he did wrong.
'Beep' 'Beep' 'Beep'
Canada shook his head as if the thoughts would just fly out and made his way to the microwave. The sweet smell of pancakes surrounded him immediately after opening the microwave door. This made him feel even more hungry.
After retrieving the warm plate, he settled himself down at the round dinner table near the center of the kitchen.
Just as Canada lifted his eating utensils, the door bell rang.
Who would bother to visit this late at night? Or rather, who would bother to visit him in the first place?
He let out a heavy sigh and drug himself to the door on the left side of the fridge. Perhaps someone wanted to sell him some magazine subscriptions or ask for donations that goes towards their church; those were the only type guests he got if any. He gripped the door knob and forced it open.
His mind grew blank. His body shook. His heart leapt out of his chest. "A-America..."
The nation rested his arm on the door's frame,leaning into it, and stared at Canada's shocked expression that painted his face.
America's eyes were half open. He showed no emotion. The tone of his voice was low and monotone. "Did you hear about what's going to happen tomorrow?"
What happened to all that pent up rage he had before? This was his chance to lay into America about his debt problems, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Canada cleared his throat removing the lump that settled there. "Th-the default? Everyone's heard. It goes into effect tomorrow morning doesn't it?"
America's intimidating glare caused Canada to avert his eyes to the floor. "So, what brings you here of all places?"
"Well, my country is going to economically collapse and China is most likely to come after me. So..."
He probably wants to borrow money or hid out here. Like that would help him any.
"Listen America, I can't-"
America removed himself from the doorway and grasped Canada's shoulders. "China is going to kill me and I was hoping you would do me a favor."
Fear pulsed through Canada's body. He felt cold. The word 'kill' repeated in his head. "N-no he won't! Don't jump to conclusions! He wouldn't-"
"Yes he would. He practically owns me with all the money that I owe him," America reluctantly admitted.
Silence filled the room.
It's his fault anyway. He should suffer for his irresponsibility; after all, I'm going to have to suffer for it too.
"Why are you here? I can't do anything for you."
America tightened his grasp and came in close until their lips touched.
Canada's eyes widened. His legs buckled. Confusion swam through his thoughts. He brought his hands to America's chest and pushed him away forcing their lips to detach. He could feel the blood rush to his face.
"Wh-what are you doing? Canada looked away from America's questioning eyes. He played with his fingers; couldn't keep still. "I-I thought you loved England."
America filled his lungs with air and let out a sigh. "No, I don't love England. Not like that anyway."
He began to move in again but Canada stepped back not allowing their lips to touch.
"But you're always with England. I've never seen you spend so much time with someone before," Canada whispered.
His chest burned. His whole body grew hot. "We're getting off topic. There's no way I can dig you out of this hole so please leave. I don't want your tainted company." His fists tightened turning them white.
Canada could see America's brown shoes walking up to him, eliminating the distance he tried to create. A hand grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to look at America.
" I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted you to come to me rather than the other way around. Apparently, that plan failed," America said with regret in his voice.
Canada didn't know what to think. Questions began to monopolize his mind; not letting him go. How long has America loved him?Has he always been watching him from behind the shadows? Warm lips broke his train of thought. He could feel the American's tongue roll inside his mouth leaving a hint of mint on his taste buds. He regained control of himself and stopped the American from advancing.
America frowned. "Please Matthew?"
Matthew? No one calls me by my human name. Not even France.
America continued. "I don't know if I'll ever have this chance again, assuming I live. So please, let me do as I wish."
"You always do what ever you wish and that's what gets you into trouble," Canada replied.
America came in for another kiss and this time Canada didn't stop him. He couldn't stop him. Something prevented him from protesting further. He gave in to the sensation that flowed through him allowing the American's lips to crush against his.
Canada could feel America leaning in causing him to step backwards. He didn't pay too much attention to where he was walking as much as he was paying attention to the way America was moving his mouth. America started with slow, gentle kisses. Then he began to pull on Canada's lower lip, softly, with his teeth. His tongue began to slid his in his mouth like he did before. This was nothing Canada has ever experienced before. Actually, he's never experienced any form of intimacy or deep affection.
Canada's feet stopped. His back hit hard against the table. A collection of loud 'Bangs' and 'Tings' rang in his ears. America continued massaging his tongue not bothering to see what just hit the floor.
Suddenly a cold, wet substance absorbed through Canada's white dress shirt that soon met his skin making him arch his back.
America parted their lips and flashed him a menacing smile. "Look at that. You got milked spilt all over you. I better remove your shirt before you catch a cold."
One by one the buttons started to come undone; each one making the shirt become looser. After making it halfway down the line of buttons, Canada noticed America becoming frustrated. A ripping noise introduced itself into the air. It began to rain white circles that fell in every direction. Canada eye's were directed to the shredded fabric in America's right hand.
"H-hey... These sh-shirts are expensive..." Canada tried to yell with little success.
America just rolled his eyes and disposed of the torn cloth.
He began to inspect the Canadian's thin body by running his hand from the top of his collar bone to his belly button. His hand strayed from his stomach and moved to Canada's back and leaned in. The warm touch made goose bumps emerge from Canada's skin. America moved his head to the left of the Canadian's head.
Teeth gently encountered the top of Canada's ear; he flinched. America introduced his tongue that moved it's way down to his earlobe where it entered his mouth. It felt as though America was sucking on a tootsie pop. Canada squirmed at the action. It was weird but at the same time, strangely satisfying.
America's mouth left the earlobe and made it's way down to Canada's trembling lips. The Canadian's chest started to move irregularly. Fast and short. Sobs escaped through his mouth. Water flooded from his eyes, trickling down his cheek.
America cupped Canada's wet face. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
Canada's soft sobs became harder. A burning formed in his chest and throat. "W-w-why? Why did you ignore me for so long?" He tightly wrapped his hands around the edge of the table. "If you loved me s-so much, than why-"
America's lips curved inward. His eyes deviated from Canada's tear soaked face. "Because...Because I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way. I don't take well to rejection."
Canada tried to clear his throat of sobs so that he could speak clearly."You're right. I wouldn't have felt the same way."
America turned his eyes back to Canada.
"But if you would have kept coming after me I would have changed my mind eventually," Canada finished.
He blinked releasing the new tears that couldn't be held in anymore. "Instead you left me alone. Do you know how lonely I was? Do you know what it's like not to utter a word to anyone for a whole week? Do you know how much pain I've endure? No one notices me. Not a single nation. Not unless they think I'm you." Canada lifted his head up to America's face; their noses almost touched. "I've tried acting like someone else. I've tried acting like you. I found out that no matter how hard I try to be someone else, I will always be the shy, introverted Canada."
America took his index finger and cleared a fresh tear that was about to fall from Canada's eyes. "I didn't know that you were in that much pain. I never meant to-"
"You did mean to," Canada interrupted. "Even an idiot like you should know the effects of loneliness."
America pulled into Canada's face and placed a warm kiss on his wet lips. "Will you let this 'idiot' make it up to you?"
When America was about to meet his lips again, he heard a loud growling noise emerge from Canada's stomach.
America sat up and observed the table. "I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your meal?"
He inspected the table further and noticed something. He reached beside Canada, pulling up a bottle of maple syrup.
"I'll make sure you're plenty full before the night ends," America said seductively.
He twisted the cap off and flipped the maple syrup bottle upside down releasing a flow of brown liquid onto Canada. The thick substance expanded across his chest and down to his stomach. He winced at the coldness it left on his pale skin.
With his index and middle finger, the American slid his fingers down the Canadian's chest capturing some of the maple syrup that blocked its way. He moved his hand up to Canada's face and traced his lower lip with syrup soaked fingers. America slowly inserted his fingers into Canada's mouth, messaging his tongue with the liquid.
The taste of the sweet maple syrup melted quickly in his mouth but the flavor lingered. America's fingers separated; playing with his tongue. Canada opened his mouth a little allowing the fingers to move more easily. They touched the top of his tongue one last time before they disappeared, replaced with lips, that soon ventured down Canada's neck and then to his sticky chest. America's tongue moved back and forth moving its way down to his stomach. He stopped. Canada lifted his head off the table and looked down to see why.
America looked up and pouted. "These annoying pants are in the way. He curved his lips up into a smile. "Nothing that I can't fix."
Canada's mind drifted off; nervous. He felt his belt slip off from around his waist. He soon heard the unzipping of his pants that soon slipped off along with his boxers. America started where he left off and licked his way lower and lower.
Canada closed his eyes tightly and fidgeted at the new sensation. His body quivered. He breathed hard. America's tongue was warm and slippery against him. Canada twisted his head to the side in reaction to the pleasure. "Ngh, ahh, Alfred..." America's human name slipped through his lips unconsciously.
Canada could no longer tell what America was doing; a tingling sensation in his pelvic area took over. His moans grew louder and louder. Suddenly, he felt a tickling chill of vibration rush through him. This was better than anything he has ever experienced before. It was beyond satisfying. Canada noticed that America stopped and looked down wondering why. The American's mouth was full.
America swallowed and smiled. "My turn."
Panic pulsed through Canada.
America removed himself from the floor. He slipped his bomber jacket off and disposed of it to the side. He grabbed the bottom of his gray shirt and lifted it above his head and threw it next to his jacket. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans slowly while looking down at Canada. He slid off his pants and boxers at the same time; both met the same fate as his shirt and jacket.
His body was beautifully sculpted with muscles; skin so smooth.
America reached over for a chair that was off to the side of the table and placed it a few feet in front of Canada. He sat down, waiting for the Canadian to make his move.
Canada lifted his body; shaking. He's never done anything like this before. What should he do? How should he do it? He stepped toward America, looked down, and stopped. Question rose to his eyes. He pointed at America's crotch. "W-what's that?"
America looked down. "Oh, Florida?" He met Canada's confused eyes. "Don't worry, it's a nice place."
Canada shook his head. "I'm talking about what's on, uh, Florida .
America paused for a moment and whispered. "It's a tattoo of a maple leaf." He cleared his throat and continued. "I, uh, got it done two years ago on your birthday."
Canada analyzed the red maple leaf that rested on Florida. "Did it hurt?"
"It wasn't as painful as staying away from you," he replied.
Canada stood in front of America. His breaths quickened.
"It's okay," America reassured him. "I won't judge a virgin too harshly."
Canada knelt down, still shaking, and took one last look at Florida before wrapping his lips around it. The salty taste made him hesitate, but he quickly shook it off and started.
He first moved his tongue in strange ways; experimenting. Was he doing it right? Was America enjoying it? He looked up. The American just had his eyes closed; his face held no expression. Maybe he really was doing it wrong. Canada stopped twirling his tongue and tried to imitate what he could remember America doing to him. He began to draw Florida in deeper into his mouth and sucked. America moaned. Canada decided to incorporate his hands; perhaps it would help. He looked up and saw that America's head was craned back.
"Nhhhg, yes, ahh, oh Matthew" America moaned.
After a minute of massaging and fast head movement, Canada found his mouth full of a terrible tasting liquid that quickly left his mouth. The taste stayed with him.
Canada wiped his mouth "Ugh."
America moved his head back down and looked at Canada. "Thanks for doing this for me."
What? They were done? But Canada didn't want to stop; he wanted to keep going.
Canada stood up and planted himself on America's lap before he had the chance to move.
"What's this?" America asked.
"I-I don't want to stop," he stuttered.
He pressed in closer to the American. "We can't have it end like this." Canada buried his face in America's soft blonde hair. He could smell the scent of strawberries that he could almost taste. His hand began to stroke the strands of hair. Canada moved his face down and met the American's lips, licking them first, and then inserted his tongue into his mouth.
America wrapped his arms around the Canadian's sticky body, pulling him in closer.
Canada hand trailed down to America's nipples and pinched them while their lips continued to crush. America let out a moan. Canada moved his tongue further into America's mouth, touching the back of his throat. He leaned in closer and closer into America until the chair couldn't hold the unbalanced weight.
The back of the chair slammed hard against the floor with brute force. Canada fell on America's chest, pinning him to the ground. America groaned in pain and sat up with Canada still on top.
"Let's continue this somewhere more comfortable," America suggested, rubbing his back.
Canada lifted himself off America's body and stood up almost losing his balance. He extended his hand down to America to help him up.
Canada held America's hand tightly not planning on letting go. "Where should we go?"
"Well, somewhere with a bed would be a start," America said gazing into Canada's eyes.
He nodded in embarrassment. "Right. That makes sense."
Canada hesitated for a moment. His hand were sweaty. He let out a breath and walked toward his bedroom, pulling America behind him. Canada got the feeling things were going to get more serious.
OoOoOoOo
Canada slowly opened his eyes and only saw darkness. He looked up at the ceiling. Did he finally fall asleep? He sat up and noticed he was naked and sore. That's right. America came over and... He quickly looked beside him. Gone. He must have left. Canada looked at digital clock. It glowed 5:46am. When did he leave? Why didn't he say goodbye? Canada put his hand on the bed and felt something. Paper? He picked it up but it was to dark for him to see it.
He stood up and crept toward the wall feeling around for a light switch. It would have been easier just to go into the hallway and look for the kitchen light switch, but he didn't like the idea of walking around naked, even if it was just him in the house. Canada finally felt the switch and flipped it up. He looked down at the paper and noticed it was a note from America.
I'm sorry that I was never there for you. I should have come to you sooner, but now it's too late. I wish that we could have spent more time together. Last night was the happiest I've been in a long time. I hope that you're not too deeply affected by my default and can live a long and happy life. Please don't forget me. I love you.
Alfred
Canada sunk to the ground and held his knees to his chest while grasping the only piece of America he had. Tears flowed down his face. He was alone again.