It wasn't unusual for Canada to find himself feeling rather invisible at world meetings. This day was no exception. Canada sat towards the back of the room at the large circular conference table, watching his brother make an outrageous ass of himself as other powers tried to settle him down and reign in control of the meeting. It wasn't for lack of trying that Canada's statements never got addressed. Occasionally Canada would politely raise his hand and offer his take, although no one generally acknowledged him. At best, another country would suddenly look up and present the great idea he or she had "just had". Canada rolled his eyes.
"At least it's getting discussed," he muttered to himself, eager for the meeting to be over. He had been anxious to get back to his home, his kitchen, his food, and his bed. As Germany pulled the meeting back together he sighed and began stacking his notebooks together on the desk, pulling his bag around to pack them away. When the meeting was finally deemed over, Canada was the first to rise from his chair, drape the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and head for the door. He had almost made it out when he was surprised by his name being called from across the room.
"Yo! Mattie!" the voice exclaimed. Canada turned with wide eyes, seeking the speaker in the room full of bustling nations. Through the din, his brother America ran up to him with a huge grin on his face.
"Oh, hey, Al. What's up?" Canada said politely, adjusting the polar bear in his arms.
"Did you see me totally rock that meeting up there?" America asked excitedly. "I mean, no surprise, right? I'm totally the hero."
"Right," Canada said, glancing toward the door that he had almost reached, eager for the conversation with his egotistic brother to end.
"Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. Artie and I just finished renovating my house this week and I want to have an awesome kitchen-warming party! I thought you could come, and Artie would be there, obviously. Thing is, it'd be way more awesome and less awkward if you brought someone with you, since you know…Artie and I are kind of…"
America trailed off, a sheen in his eyes that Canada new could only mean he was thinking about just how intimate his relationship with England could be. Canada concealed his grimace. As happy as he was seeing his brother so in love, thinking about his brother and his childhood father figure "bumping uglies".
"Anyway," America said, returning to Earth, "Artie and I don't think it's very good for you to spend so much time alone in that frozen wasteland you call a country." America laughed obnoxiously at his own joke. "We thought it'd be good if you met someone you could bring over for dinner. And if you have trouble finding someone, Artie knows like, everyone in Europe. I bet he could set you up!"
Canada shuddered at the thought of a blind date. "Thanks, Alfred, but I'm really not the dating type. And besides, my economy's doing fine, I don't need a new alliance right now."
America pouted. He was causing a scene, but it seemed even stranger from the perspective of the countries leaving the room as they noticed America making a fuss and not much else. "Come on, Mattie! It'll be fun! Just give it a chance."
Canada sighed internally, just wanting America to act like a country of 200 and some years and not a baby. "Fine. I'll bring someone to dinner, but I don't want you and Arthur setting me up, okay?"
America beamed. "I knew you could be convinced!" he exclaimed excitedly, running off towards England. "See Artie! I told you he'd say yes! Where's my twenty?"
Canada rolled his eyes. Of course America had turned it into a bet. Whatever, it wasn't his problem. The problem was that, unbeknownst to America, England, or any other countries as far as Canada knew, Canada's life in his "frozen wasteland" wasn't nearly as lonely as everyone assumed it was.
Canada's jet got him home in the late evening. At the airport, Canada retrieved his car from the parking lot and tiredly drove home, blasting Alanis Morisette to keep him awake the long drive through the winding countryside just outside of Ottawa, Ontario. When Canada finally pulled up to his large, cottage-like house, the driveway was freshly shoveled and a warm glow emanated from the windows. Canada pulled his duffle bag with his clothes for the weekend out of the trunk and made his way up to the inviting front door, humming as he made his way up the walk.
Canada swung the front door open and was washed over by a comfortable breath of warm air, contrast to the November chill from outside. Canada tossed his bag on the bench in the entryway, kicked off his shoes, and hung up his coat and car keys.
"I'm home!" Canada hollered into the house. He made his way through the halls and was barely six feet into the house before a small polar bear cub came tearing around the corner and charged at Canada. The blonde nation bent down and caught the polar bear as he ran directly into his arms. Canada snuggled the bear. "Hey, Kuma. Thanks for the warm greeting."
"Who are you?" the bear asked in its signature child-like voice, nuzzling closer into Canada's chin nonetheless.
"I'm Canada," the nation reassured his pet before setting him down on the floor. Canada made his way further into the house and gradually he caught the faint whiff of something sweet and high in carbs. His mouth started to water.
"P-pancakes?" he muttered to himself. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the finger foods served at lunch at the meeting. Quickening his pace, Canada hurried toward the kitchen, the smell getting stronger and stronger with each step, along with the sound of a march being hummed in a rough but lilting tune. When he finally rounded the corner, his eyes landed on the steaming griddle, covered with a half-dozen half-cooked pancakes, being gingerly tended by a silver-haired man in a red and white checkered apron, spatula wielded like a pro. He looked up the moment Canada entered the room and his eyes widened.
"Hey! I thought I heard someone!" he beamed, flipping the pancakes. "I thought you'd be hungry so I made you my awesome pancakes!"
Canada smirked. "My awesome pancakes, you mean?" he corrected playfully, leaning on the island. Prussia and Canada had been seeing each other for nearly two years, ever since a chance run-in at a world meeting. They'd been living together in Canada's cottage for just over a year and a half. Prussia had insisted to his brother, Germany, that he was sick of sharing the albeit large German mansion with his brother and lover, Italy, and had rented an apartment in Spain, eager to experience new cultures given his nationless status. Canada didn't say anything to anyone and was rarely visited by other nations anyway. Thus, their relationship had remained private.
Prussia served up the tasty breakfast food and brought it out into the living room where they sat on the couch and watched Hockey Night in Canada, which Prussia had already set to record, knowing his Canadian lover would be home soon. Canada ate while contently snuggled into the crook of Prussia's arm, watching the game and occasionally hollering a criticism at the ref who couldn't hear him. At one particularly foul play, Canada threw himself forward, nearly leaping off the couch. Anticipating the reaction as soon as it happened, Prussia snatched the Canada's plate out of his extended hand before he could sling it across the room.
"What the fuck was that, you hoser!? That was totally a penalty! Put your goddamn glasses on, you old fuck!" Canada screamed at the TV. Prussia watched with semi amusement as Canada cooled down and returned to his spot nestled up against his lover. "Sorry, Gil."
"That okay, baby, you're hot when you're raging," Prussia said with a wink. A blush rushed over Canada's face at the suggestive comment, retrieving his plate from Prussia to finish his pancakes. Curled up against his lover, Canada sat through the game, trying to hold back some of his more spitting comments at the ref's calls. As the time ticked down, Canada felt his heart pounding in his chest. The score was tied between the Oilers and the Senators. He watched as muscular men slid down the ice at lightning speed, handling the puck with expertise and confidence. Just as the timer ticked out, one of the players took the shot and it grazed past the goalie's glove, swishing into the net. The buzzer echoed out of the speakers and Canada jumped off the couch. Prussia scrambled to catch the dishes that Canada upset on his way up.
"Yes!" Canada exclaimed. "Yes! They did it! Yes! Go team!"
Canada did a quick victory jog around the room before he jumped onto Prussia, straddling the ex-nation's lap and locking their lips in an excited, passionate kiss. Prussia set the dishes on the side table and kissed his lover back, rubbing his hands up and down Canada's heavy sweater before delving his fingers underneath to brush soft, warm skin. He felt a stirring between his legs as Canada unconsciously ground against him between heavy kisses. Prussia lowered his hands to cup the soft roundness of his lover's bottom. Canada moaned into the kiss, which did nothing to quell Prussia's arousal. He was slightly comforted by the fact that he could feel Canada's growing arousal pressing forward into Prussia's muscular belly. When the kiss finally broke, leaving a trail of saliva in the corner of each of their mouths. When Prussia finally caught his breath a little bit, he gave Canada a hungry, almost desperate look.
"Upstairs?" he asked breathlessly. Canada nodded and connected their lips once again. Prussia scooped Canada up and got to his feet, holding the backs of Canada's knees in his hands as he made his way through the halls, stumbling carefully up the stairs until he reached their bedroom. He tossed Canada toward the center of the bed and started to strip, peeling off his tight skinny jeans and band t-shirt, tossing them in the direction of the laundry bin. Canada struggled to slip out of his sweatpants and hoodie he had put on for the plane ride from his horizontal position. When they were both finally naked, Prussia climbed into the middle of the bed to straddle Canada's slim hips.
"Oh," Canada said through a moan. "I saw Alfred today."
"Did you?" Prussia prompted.
"Yeah," Canada continued. "He redid his kitchen. He wanted to have a dinner party. He wanted me to—uh!" Canada exclaimed. Prussia smirked a little as he caused the Canadian to interrupt himself.
"He wanted you to what?" Prussia teased as his pushed himself.
"He—hnn—wanted me to—ugh, Gil—bring someone for dinner," Canada hissed out.
"Dinner?" Prussia repeated breathlessly. "I work too hard for my awesome body to eat America's fast-fried shit."
"Ah! Gil!" Canada said, throwing his arms out and digging his fingernails into Prussia's forearms. "I know. We've worked so hard to—Fuck!—keep everything quiet—"
After riding out their intense pleasure, both men collapsed on the bed.
"Fuck. You're so awesome," Prussia grunted, grinning at the ceiling.
"That's high praise, coming from you," Canada said with a breathy laugh. "You aren't too bad yourself."
Prussia rolled onto his side and wrapped his long, muscular arms around Canada's waist and pulling him close against his chest, nuzzling his nose into Canada's neck. Canada let out a short giggle, curling up around Prussia's touch.
"I missed you, liebling," Prussia murmured against Canada's neck. Canada rolled over so that he was facing Prussia.
"I missed you, too, Gil," Canada replied. He kissed the tip of the albino's nose before pressing it against his own. "I love you so much, Gil."
Prussia smiled, rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. "Ich liebe dich auch," Prussia said, his voice heavy with lust. He kissed Canada's forehead before burying his nose in Canada's hair and inhaling deeply. "You smell so good after I make love to you."
"Gil…" Canada mewled. As Prussia stretched up, Canada brushed his hands over the muscular chest of his lover and smiled as dampness came away with his fingers.
"Mmm," Prussia replied before pushing the covers down to crawl under them. He pulled the sheets up over Canada, kissing him sweetly on the forehead before rolling away from his lover and curling up to sleep. "Goodnight, Birdie."
"'Night, Gil," Canada replied thoughtfully before stretching out and closing his eyes.