Wind blew against the snowcaps, throwing white powder all around the four nations. They were in the Canadian mountains for a trip and all four stood before a lake frozen over with ice.
"I'll check to see if the ice is thick enough," Matt said and took a few steps towards the edge. He was in the least amount of clothing, wearing heavy coat, jeans, and boots. He had worn a hat on as well but he ditched his gloves a while back. The other three had scarves and gloves on.
Francois shivered and gave up on the cigarette in his head, letting it fall to the snow. "It's fucking freezing," he grumbled. Oliver was chattering too much to catch him cursing.
Allen looked at the frozen lake. "Isn't there a bridge or a way around?"
Matt nodded. "Yeah, but they're a few miles that way." He gestured to his left. "It'll only take twenty minutes to get to the cabin if we can cross the lake. He stepped on the ice carefully. He was the heaviest of the four, so if the ice could hold him, it would hold the others.
"Tell me again why we decided to come to this shithole?"
"Fuck you Allen," Matt snapped. "This 'shithole' is my fucking home. At least is isn't overrun with pollution." Allen didn't have a decent comeback for that.
"I don't care," Oliver said, shaking. "Let's just get to warmth."
Matt took a few steps on the lake. "It seems pretty sturdy. Don't walk too close to one another, don't run, and whatever you do, don't break the ice." He started walking as lightly as possible across the lake. Allen hesitated, then followed. Francois waited a few moments before he started walking and Oliver started last. The wind seemed to die down a bit, but the bitter cold was painful. They clung to their own bodies, seeking any way to get warm.
"Alright," Matt muttered. "We're halfway across. Once we get to the other side, the cabin is only a fifteen minutes of hiking." He pointed at a small opening in the trees on the other side.
"Do you cross this lake every time," Allen asked.
"Only when it's really cold," he said. "Otherwise I take the long way."
"Is today a cold day, then?"
The Canadian laughed. "Yeah, for you guys."
"Oh, fuck off."
"Swear jar," Oliver mumbled. "Don't think I haven't been keeping track."
Allen rolled his eyes dramatically. "Okay, Ollie."
Francois was silent for the most part, coughing occasionally. He didn't seem to want to waste the energy.
Matt was almost on the other side when Allen stumbled slightly. "Shit!" He caught his footing, but ended up stomping on the ice. He froze (no pun intended) and stared at his feet. There was a small crack, but nothing serious. He sighed, relieved, then continued. No one noticed his blunder except for Francois, who only raised a brow at him. He didn't notice the crack until he passed and hard the ice hiss under him. The Frenchman quickened his pace and said, "Hurry, Oliver."
"Oh, be patient," he muttered, quickening his pace. "I'm comi-" The ice shattered below him and he was yanked into the cold abyss of the lake.
Matt whirled around. "OLIVER!" Francois reeled back and ran to the hole. He stood a few meters away from it to avoid going under as well. His eyes were wide with shock.
Thump, thump, thump.
"Over there," Allen shouted, pointing. Francois ran over to were Oliver was trapped under the ice and yelled back to Matt, "Throw something to me!" Matt yanked an ice pick from his belt and tossed it. Francois caught it and slammed the tool into the ice.
CRACK CRACK
An opening was made and Francois backed away to avoid getting dragged under. Oliver's hands slapped against the edge and he started desperately pulling himself out of the water. The Frenchman held the end of the pick and extended it to Oliver. "Grab the end. I'll pull you out." Oliver didn't hesitate and gabbed the handle tightly, arms shaking. Francois pulled him out out the hole and dragged him to safety. He tossed the pick aside and scooped Oliver up. "We need to get to the cabin. Now," Matt said quickly and retrieved the pick. "Come on." No one hesitated as they sprinted after the Canadian towards the cabin. They turned a fifteen minute hike into a three minute run.
Oliver's skin was turning blue.
"He isn't shivering," Allen said, starting the fire. "That's good, right?" He looked back as Matt and Francois were removing his clothes.
"No," Matt said, worried. "He's too cold to shiver," he stood up and ran out of the room.
"Too cold to shiver...?" Allen looked at Oliver, who wasn't responding.
"Hypothermia," Francois said as he tossed Oliver's soaked clothes aside.
Allen swallowed and looked at the small flame he made.
"Come on..." Matt ran back in with bankers and towels. "Body heat," he breathed, looking at Francois.
He blinked. "Wha-"
"Get your clothed off too and try to warm him up," the Canadian demanded and started laying the blankets out. Oliver was in nothing but his undergarments now, and he looked sickly. Francois took Matt's orders and started pulling his clothes off.
"Should we give you guys some privacy," Allen asked, almost amused. The Frenchman didn't listen to him and was down to his shorts, which he'd worn simply because of the cold. He slipped under the covers where Oliver was lying and wrapped his arms around him, then flinched.
"He's as cold as ice," he yelped. Allen resisted the urge to sing a Foreigner tune.
Matt tucked the blankets around them. "Keep him warm and he'll be alright." He pulled the frozen Brit to his chest while wincing, but it was for the best. He ran his hands up and down Oliver's back, thankful that he'd worn hand warmers earlier. The brothers sat by and waited, hoping to get a response.
Some time passed and Francois continued moving, making friction over Oliver's body. He gasped.
"He's shivering again."
Matt let out a sigh of relief. "Good."
Oliver suddenly snuggled against Francois's warmth and tucked his arms against his chest. "S-s-s-s-o c-c-c-"
He swallowed and Matt shook his head. "Save your breath Ollie." His teeth chattered loudly and it was a nice sound. He contented pressing himself as tightly as he could to Francois.
"C'mon, Al," Matt said, standing. "Help me make soup and tea."
"Tea," Oliver cooed happily into the Frenchman's chest. Matt chuckled and Allen followed him to the kitchen. The room grew warmer and warmer from the fire and Oliver's shivering slowly became much less violent. He opened his eyes and looked up. Francois was staring down at him with his violet eyes, concerned.
"Better?"
Oliver's face started burning red. "You're not Kumi."
He chuckled. "Non," he agreed. He pulled a towel down and wrapped it over Oliver's hair. The smaller man was still blushing loudly, but he didn't want to try to squirm away.
Instead, he mumbled. "That was very terrifying..."
The Frenchman was rubbing the towel on his head, trying to dry his hair. "Hm?"
"I can't swim, you know..." He pressed his forehead to Francois's chest. "I thought I was going to drown," he looked up again and smiled. "But you saved me."
"Why wouldn't I?"
Oliver's smile widened. "Thank you." Francois sighed and wrapped his arms around the smaller nation's frame. He held him tightly and ran his hands down his back, sharing more of his warmth. Oliver shifted and squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. "Can we sit up?" Francis nodded and broke the hug only to get into an upright position. He pulled Oliver onto his lap and hugged him from behind. "Love, I don't need you to-"
"You're still cold," Francois said and rested his chin on Oliver's shoulder. He used a hand to pull the blankets up and they wrapped it around Francois's shoulders. Oliver sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he drifted off and went limp in Francois's arms.
When the boys came back in they paused and noticed the Englishman sleeping. Matt set the soup and tea on the coffee table and grabbed another blanket, wrapping it around them.
Oliver stirred a bit. "Oh, hello poppet."
"Don't ever fucking scare us like that again," Matt snapped.
"Swear jar," he said sleepily.
Allen shifted uncomfortably. "I have to confess something."
"We all know you're gay for Luciano," Matt said, handing Oliver his tea.
"No, you a- ah...Jerk." He rolled his eyes. "I... I kind of caused all of this."
Matt looked over his shoulder and raised a brow. "What?"
"I... tripped on the ice and it cracked a bit. Then Oliver fell through where I tripped." He looked down. "I'm sorry. I should have said something."
Matt frowned. "Dude, it's not like you knew this would happen. "
"I saw the crack," Francois confessed. "So I'm to blame as well."
"I'm not upset," Oliver said, drinking his tea. "I'm a bit tired, but oh well. I'm nice and warm and cozy. No harm, poppet." Oliver gave a small shiver from the warmth of his tea. "This is good."
"It's maple."
"That's what that smell was," Francois said. "I thought it was just you."
Matt shot him a look. "Shut up."
"So... you guys aren't pissed at me," Allen asked.
Oliver looked up. "No. Now come here." Allen blinked, then got beside Matt on his knees. Oliver set the tea aside and hugged the American. "Oh, you're warm, too," He didn't let go. "I gave Franny here my coldness."
"Well, you can have my coat." Allen pulled his coat off and threw it around Oliver's shoulders. Oliver snuggled up into the warmth and leaned back on Francois again. "Oh~ Thank you, poppet!" He smiled.
Matt stood up. "It's getting late. You should stay by the fire tonight."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Francois said wearily.
Allen made a noise and started for the stairs. "Night, lovebirds."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Dick." He followed after saying good night. The Brit smiled and yawned.
He snuggled against Francois again. "Can I sleep like this tonight?" Francois nodded and pulled his arms around his waist again and sighed. Oliver turned, cheeks burning red, and kissed Francois's cheek. "Good night." He quickly turned away and snuggled up. The Frenchman touched his cheek and blinked.
Why was this little psycho so fucking adorable?
A/N: This is so terrible. I just reread it. (This is like almost 6 months old)