A/N: Okay I'm still working on Hetalia What?, but I really wanna do this. The pairing is mainly Cuba/Canada and how do I break it to you? I don't own Hetalia. No name 4 this yet
The usually shy Canadian was dressed in a tight black shirt that hung off one shoulder and on the other held by two straps to connect the shirt to the bottom of the sleeve, knuckle length gloves, tight black skinny jeans, and cammo boots. His usual wavy hair was mussed, his glasses were nowhere in sight, and he had dark makeup on his eyes. The shy Canadian sprinted, slowing as he neared the conference room. His guitar case swung as he walked now. "What the bloody hell are you wearing Mathew?" Arthur screeched as the blond entered the conference. "That's so bad ass bro!" An annoyingly loud American voice exclaims, the man breaking away from his conversation from a solemn Japan. "I always wear something like this at a gig, eh." The Canadian replied as he put his guitar case on the floor by his seat, shrugging his shoulders. "Ohoho. Mathieu you look sexy in zat." A certain Frenchie states as he sidles up to England, slipping an arm around the man's waist. Mathew shrugs again, plopping down in his chair and propping his feet on the table. "What band you in?" Alfred asks, sitting in his seat as well. "Fire in the Rain." Mathew replies, a slight smirk settled on his face now. For once Mathew wasn't ignored, and he wasn't uncomfortable under everyone staring at him. "Oh my God! I love that band! You're guitar, right?" Alfred exclaims. Mathew turns to him, slightly shocked. "Yeah, but we just got our songs on iTunes. How did you know, eh?" He replies. Alfred ceases his bouncing to give Matt a look. "I'm America." He simply states. "You're in a bloody band?" England shouts, finally out of Francis' grasp. "I have been for a year, eh. I was just at a gig and didn't have time to change, I barely just made it here." Mathew states, sparing England a glance before propping his feat back up on the table. " Let's get started, eh." Canada says, a bored look on his face. America does just that, bouncing up to give a speech on his 'heroness', and the whole time Mathew doesn't even listen.
Mathew sat on his couch, still in his rock outfit, chilling with the band at his home. A sudden knock on the door has Matt reluctantly leaving the jam out session to answer the door. He laughs at Jame's, the drummer, joke and open the door to see Cuba. "Mateo!" Cuba exclaims happily, running in to give Mathew a hug. "Hey Enrique." Mathew replies, laughing at Cuba's eagerness. "Come in, eh." Mathew closes the door and leads him into the living room. "Enrique this is James, Erin(the lead singer), and Pedro(the bass player), guys this is Enrique, a friend from Cuba." Mathew states. "This your boyfriend?" Pedro asks teasingly. Matt's face lights up as red as a tomato as his friends laugh. "I wish." Cuba mutters so only Matt can hear, making his face go an even brighter red. "Yes he is." Matt states, his blush fading and an idea forming in his head. 'This'll kill everybody.' Matt thinks with a devious smirk.
TBC..
A/N: What's Cuba's name?