((I listened to The Mortician's Daughter by Black Veil Brides while writing this))

((They are countries in this okay. Timeline issues will occur otherwise.))

((SMUTTY SMUT SMUT! I put up a warning where it starts though :3))

A small, rare smile formed on the Dutchman's face as he finally finished the bouquet of bright red, yellow and orange tulips with a pretty white bow. It looked the same as every year, and yet he spent the same amount of time on it every single time he'd done this for the past seventy years. Seventy years. That made Tim think.

It's been seventy years since he first handed the Canadian - his Canadian - a bouquet of exactly thirty tulips, three colours, ten of every colour. He remembered it clearly. The fifth of May, 1945. The date that is now Liberation Day. The day the Allies came to free the Netherlands - free him - entirely from Germany's grasp. The date that you could call an anniversary date.

Tim had had a bouquet of tulips all year, ever since they were available. He was the first in line early in the morning when they arrived, never regretting the purchase of the wonderful flowers, constantly waiting for an opportunity to put them to the use he'd been wanting to use them for.

That opportunity came. It was a Saturday, Tim remembered. The Allies held some sort of parade through the Amsterdam streets, although Tim did not understand why. But he didn't mind either. It had been a great day for his country, but around the world, the war was still going on.

But no one seemed to think about that, that day. And, by the way, if Germany had surrendered, Japan would soon too. Especially since everyone could put their entire focus on him.

That had, however, ended differently than Tim had expected or wanted.

But that's not what we're here for, is it? Anyway, that day, the streets of Amsterdam were filled with Canadian, American, English and French tanks and military cars and soldiers and officers... Name something of the sort and it was probably there. People were smoking, eating chocolate, honestly, they were doing whatever they couldn't during the war. It was one big party. Though, Tim could only hope he could catch on the Canadian.

That day, Matthew Williams had been one of the soldiers that walked along the parade. He had done something right, maybe someone would listen to him now. He had played a large role in this.

He knew that for sure when he was stopped by Tim.

"Thank you," his exact words were. "For everything. Eh, take this as a gift of gratitude." Slightly nervous, Tim had handed him the tulips.

"You're welcome, you didn't have to do this." Matthew had spoke up for the first time ever to raise his voice over the sound of cars and loud singing. "I brought you cigars, too." Matthew handed him a box which smelled of tobacco. Tim smiled slightly. It had been longer than forever since he'd last had a good smoke. Although he now preferred cigarettes, back then, he was extremely happy with a box of cigars.

"Thank you." He said.

"Ey, Matt!" A loud American interrupted their little talk. Otherwise it might have ended in a date.

"Alfred..." Matthew sighed.

"Come on, dude!" Alfred took his brother's wrist and pulled him away. Tim still waved at Matthew, but said Canadian was too busy trying not to fall down to wave back.

Ever since, every year, on Liberation Day, the two met up. One year in the Netherlands, the other in Canada. Every year, they had a date-like meeting. After about ten years of meeting up, 1955, Matthew had started to take maple syrup instead of cigars, because "a pancake is no pancake without maple syrup, eh?" Tim had laughed and replied with a soft "whatever you say", never actually having tasted maple syrup before.

Their first official non-annual-meeting date was in '90, fifty years after the Dutch war had started. It was the thirtieth of April, the national holiday known as Queen's Day, celebrating the birthday of Queen Beatrix, whose actual birthday was in January, but she took after her mother, Queen Juliana. Matthew had purposefully put on an orange sweater, and had the Dutch flag on his cheek. Tim had thought it was adorable.

"I do think I still need to introduce you to my siblings." He'd declared at the end of the day, making Matthew laugh. "I know Laura is in town but I don't have a clue where."

Somewhere else in town, Laura was having a drink with Antonio and Lovino, talking about how her older brother had changed after the war. Antonio soon came to the conclusion that "he must be in love" and brought it so poetically that Lovino got up to bash his head against a wall, only to return after the Spaniard had soothed him with a makeout session Laura had filmed with her new phone for Elizabeta. She'd put it on the mail later.

Anyway, back to everyone's favourite Dutchman and Canadian, am I right?

They had settled in a small café along the coast. If Tim honestly had to pick a favourite city in this entire province, which was Gelderland, this one would definitely win. It wasn't much, but the villages and landscapes surrounding it were beautiful - and so was the view from the terrace, for that matter. They looked out over the lake that seperated the province from Flevoland, a fairly new piece of land. It had only been an official province for four years that day. Four years and five months.

"Lovely view." Matthew smiled.

"Thanks." Tim replied. Matthew had his hands clamped around a cup of hot chocolate and was kind of staring at the tompouce in front of him. He had tasted one before, and he liked it, so that was not the problem. He just wasn't really hungry. Tim had already finished his and had his cup of hot chocolate on his knee.

"Matt?" Tim looked up from the cup.

"Yes?"

"We should do this again sometime."

"Agreed. This was a great day." Matthew smiled slightly wider. And so, about two years later, Tim decided to surprise Matthew in Canada.

It was a Wednesday. A beautiful one, at that. Tim had brought a present - he had brought three wooden tulips from the Netherlands, in the three familiar colours - red, yellow, orange - and he'd bought a new cup with a maple leaf on it, because the previous day, Matthew had mailed him, upset, because Alfred had broken his cup. Actually, Tim had his name set on the bottom of the cup, as a sort of souvenir.

That day, they had their second official date and they officially started a relationship. Matthew could not think of a better birthday before or after that.

Now, twenty three years later, Tim had bought a real golden ring, which immediately made the record of most money he'd ever spent on someone, and he was in doubt. Should he do it today, or on Matthew's birthday?

With a knock on the door, he'd decided. Today. He quickly but carefully put the ring in the bouquet of tulips and walked to the door, not letting go of the tulips. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the same kiss on the lips as the past twenty years, and it still made him smile and feel as if he was a teenage girl that had just fallen in love for the first time.

"Good morning." Matthew said.

"Good morning." Tim replied. "And thank you. Again. For the same thing as the past sixty nine times I said thanks." Matthew laughed softly.

"No need to thank me." He replied, as usual, taking the tulips from him.

"There's nothing in it, or is there?" Matthew asked. Two years ago, three moths had been hiding in the tulips.

"No promises." Tim replied. Last year, he'd replied with a clear "no". Matthew glared at him slightly before searching through the bouquet, soon enough finding the box. He knew exactly what this was and gasped. Tim smiled lightly at this reaction and took the hand Matthew was holding the tulips with.

"Matt... I don't know when, or how, but I do know that I started to love you somewhere along the line. More than I've ever loved anyone. Or anything, for that matter. And even though we'll always be somehow seperated, I wish to spend the rest of my life with you." Tim got down on one knee and looked at the Canadian in front of him. "Matthew Williams, will you marry me?"

Matthew was speechless. Looking down at the man in front of him, he finally realised what had just happened.

One word, and he was engaged to the man of his dreams. One movement was enough.

"Y-yes, of course!" He managed to get out before gathering all his strength to pull his fiancé up and kissed him full on the lips. Ten minutes later, they were making out, until Matthew felt a hand creep up his shirt and pulled away. "Let's do that somewhere else than the hallway." He whispered.

((SMUTTT))

Tim agreed and took his hand, pulling him up the stairs, through a door, onto the bed, where they continued making out. One by one, the clothes flew across the room, until they were completely naked. Tim pulled away and trailed kisses down Matthew's jaw and neck, making him moan in pleasure. He knew the Canadian's sensitive spot exactly and sucked on it gently.

"A-ah..." Matthew moaned. Without hesitation, Tim's hands slowly found their way down, managed to slip in between the mattress and Matthew's ass. His lips still had not left Matthew's neck, and moved on to another spot, leaving multiple hickeys.

A lot of nearly-entering later, Tim finally decided he had enough of teasing and opened a drawer, pulling out lube and a condom. Please, the fucker is the personification of the Netherlands. Come on. Did you expect different?

He put some of the lube on his fingers and smiled slightly as he again found his way down, this time coming from the other side. Another small tease before he let one finger enter. Matthew gasped, but then moaned. Tim let his finger explore slightly before he entered another one, to Matthew's great pleasure. Soon enough, he let a third one enter too, and thrusted into Matthew. "O-oh God..." Matthew moaned loudly as Tim repeatedly hit his sensitive spot.

Tim didn't slow down and didn't use less force as he opened the condom with his mouth and his other hand. He pulled out to slip the condom around his member and positioned himself, ready to enter.

"Hurry up already!" Matthew moaned. Smirking, Tim pushed in, somewhat forcefully.