"M-Mathis! Wait!" Canada sped down the hall, amethyst eyes wide with growing horror. "M-Mathis!"
Ahead of Mathew by maybe three yards at least, a boy with golden blonde hair and sparkling vivid violet eyes cast a teasing glance to the fretting Canadian. "Maman is slow!" Giggling excitedly, he sped up, gaining even more ground.
"Mathis!"
He didn't stop. There was no stopping him!
He darted around a sudden corner, pumping his arms furiously to propel himself further, faster. His heart was palpating like a humming bird, almost as if it was trying to escape his chest. His breathing was erratic, quick gasps of air that made his vision somewhat blurry; but he didn't stop.
And then his destination came into sight. No – not a destination.
A target.
He set his weight in his abdominal muscles, feeling the already sore flesh of his legs coil tightly as he prepared himself for the daring leap. He swung his arms up and behind him, letting loose all of that tense energy, springing himself forward those last few feet.
"VIT~AL~IA!" His arms came around the tiny girl, a smug grin on his lips as he ignored her yelp of surprise and cry for mercy.
Unfortunately, his momentum was not yet spent; he kept flying through air, now dragging the other with him.
"Vater! Vater!" The little girl wailed in his arms, her discomfort loudly known with being suspended in air and now quickly heading back for the ground.
He took most of the force into his one shoulder, the rest of his body slapping painfully against the carpeted floor after him. Luckily, the child was curled to his chest, safe from the crash course.
He ignored his own pain and sat up, giggling down at the teary blonde sitting on his lap. "Hello, Vitalia~ This is a good day, da?"
The little girl – Vitalia – looked at him with fearful amber eyes, not seeming to want to even try to answer that.
"Ve~ Mathis is here!" Italy smiled airily and skipped to their side, hugging Mathis and then lifting his daughter into his arms. "Now you'll have someone to play with during the meeting, ve~"
Feliciano looked delighted.
His daughter looked terrified at the prospect of spending even a minute with the Russo-Canadian.
Mathis stood to his feet. "Da! I'll be happy to keep Vitalia company!" He tangled a hand in the frilly layers of the girl's dress, holding tightly. His smile to Vitalia said 'you can't run away~'
But that was to Vitalia, who was terrified of everyone who was not her padre or vater.
"Italy!" Speaking of vater…
The German marched over in his usual tense way, shoulders back and chin high as if he had nothing to be ashamed of but everyone had a reason to fear him nonetheless… which was kind of true.
Germany was a fearsome man once his resolve was set.
He took one look at Mathis and his expression became stony – not disapproving, but weary. "Where is -… Where is…" His eyes narrowed as his lips twitched into a frown. After a moment, he appeared to give up on trying remembering a specific name. "Where is your vater?"
Mathis cocked his head cutely. "You mean nana?" He thought of his tall, frightening father. "Hhmmm…"
Germany sighed. "Nein; the other one!"
"Oh!" He giggled. "You mean maman~ Da! Maman is close!"
Unlike Germany, Canada did not appear immediately after his name was mentioned.
There was an uncertain silence for three minutes before the blonde jogged into view. "M-Mathis… D-don't do that-t again, eh?" He keeled over, hands on knees as he took in a few deep breaths.
Mathis looked only too happy. "I beat maman~ nana will be proud of me!"
Canada gave him a less than amused expression.
From within Mathew's red hoodie, Kumajirou popped his head out, looking not at all bothered by the sudden dash. He looked at Mathis and outstretched a paw. "Cub."
"You!"
"Wa!" Canada shot to his feet, standing straight at Ludwig's commanding tone. "Y-yes?"
Germany grasped Mathis by the collar of his overly large storm grey hoodie and lifted him off the ground to be eye level with Mathew. "This is yours, correct?"
Mathis waved in his maman's face. "Hi, maman!"
"Waa! Yes!" Canada brought his arms around his son just as Ludwig released him.
He was, unfortunately, unprepared for such and so plummeted to the floor, only with enough time to twist his body so that he took most of the crash into his side without hurting either his son or his bear.
Mathis was a… big boy. Not even big as in large, but big as in rather tall for his age and big boned with not really that much fat on him to begin with.
Much like his nana, actually.
Mathew breathed a sigh of relief that his son wasn't that tall, however.
Mathis sat up and cradled his maman's head in his lap, humming to the bruised man. "Maman would like for me to kill Germany, duh?" He cooed, sounding so much like his nana, it wasn't even funny but scary.
Canada groaned. "No, maman would not like for you to kill Germany…"
As it was, Germany was already reentering the conference room, Italy and Vitalia before him.
The blonde stood and brought his son with him. "Be good, eh?" When he wasn't stuttering, his voice was always soft and low, like a whisper in summer.
Mathis nodded. "Da! I will be extremely good for maman and nana!"
Canada pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "merci, Mathis. Let's go in now, eh?" He grasped his son's hand securely and entered the conference room.
Mathis held his breath for the excitement he felt.
This was his first time at a world meeting! Never before had he seen all the nations, much less all the nations gathered in one place.
In all truth, his maman and nana had told him what to expect; there would undoubtedly be few, if any, who acknowledged him. After all, he was still so young… and far from independent.
On the eve of his birth, a piece of land had been discovered off the coast of Novaya Zemiya (an island off from St. Petersburg of Russia) at 45° longitude, 75° latitude by a Canadian politician.
This had led the nations to believe that, upon two nations giving birth to a child, new land would magically develop; however, that was only a guess up until Vitalia had been born.
When she had been born, a German boatman stumbled upon a scrap piece of land located in the Mediterranean Sea.
The island off of Russia had been deemed 'Белый медведь, or, read phonetically (with the English alphabet instead of symbols), 'beliy medved'; which meant 'white bear'.
That preordained Mathis to be locally known as 'beliy medved' as a nation… not that he was independent yet.
The island in the Mediterranean Sea had been dubbed 'Terra Tedesca' which was Italian for 'German Land'.
Which was now Vitalia's political name. But she, just like Mathis, would most likely be overlooked at the meeting.
Mathis eyeballed the long boardroom table and all the people who sat around it. He felt a sort of joyous anticipation looking at them all, every one of them not the same as the one before.
His maman's hand in his reminded him to keep moving, pulling him to a chair where he sat down in his maman's lap without a second thought.
Closer to the head of the table, Vitalia had claimed her padre's lap and was swinging her legs back and forth, not even focused on the present but smiling into the distance as if she were entertaining a delightful thought.
Her vater was staring down at her, obvious love and devotion softening his features. Italy was being just as airheaded as his daughter, staring off into the same distance with his legs moving in time with his daughter's.
Ludwig didn't seem to mind that he was a part of a family full of cowardly 'space cases'.
Mathis sighed, snuggling down. Kumajirou slipped out of Mathew's hoodie and slipped onto Mathis's lap, heaving a great, bored sigh before settling down for a nap.
He petted his brilliantly white fur, though his bright eyes kept zipping up and down the table.
So many different cultures. Different people and places.
He was fascinated.
At the head of the table, America was chowing down on a hamburger, spitting bits of ground cow at England as he spoke to him.
Arthur was quickly getting pissed about it and was snarling at Alfred to at least chew with his mouth closed.
America, instead, just put his burger to the side and began sucking down a milkshake, talking around the straw.
Arthur's scream of frustration could be heard clear at the other end of the table.
Mathis waved frantically. "Hello, uncle Pissoff!"
Some closer to him looked around with curious alarm, as if trying to figure out who this 'pissoff' was. Canada just whimpered and tried to hush his son.
He failed.
Mathis huffed when he didn't get his uncle's attention. "Uncle American pig!"
This attracted Alfred's attention. "Who are you calling a pig, you commie basta- oh." His dark expression of fury swayed suddenly to absolute adoration. "Hi, Mathis!" He waved energetically back to the boy. "How is the nephew of the great American hero?" He puffed his chest out like a proud peacock.
The other nations, even including England, tried to pretend not to notice who America was talking to.
They weren't ready to acknowledge the new nation yet; his land was too small for them to fight over; much less than that, the idea of fighting Russia of all nations for him was unappetizing to them.
America, much like Italy, was just too kind (or possibly stupid; but who would call sweet, gentle, adorable Italy stupid?) to ignore the child.
Even if, just like his nana, Mathis took every chance he could get to insult the larger nation.
"I'm happy, douche-bag!" He giggled.
Canada rested his forehead in one hand. "Maple…" He cursed softly.
America made a d'aaaw expression. "My nephew is too adorable!" Somehow, he was just there, kneeling on the table before Mathis with a hamburger extended. "Here! Have this! The hero shall save you from hunger!"
"Nana says that eating hamburgers from America will make me fat and stupid… like America."
Alfred's expression darkened. "That commie bastard! Don't listen to him, Mathis! He's just pissed because he's not a hero like me and – whoa!" He was staring past Mathis with wide eyes. "M-Mattie! When'd you get here?"
Mathew sighed in despair. "I-I've been here, brother…"
"Really? Huh… I didn't notice you there before!"
Mathis' expression twitched.
If there was one thing he could never understand, it was how people found his maman to be so… forgettable.
Personally, he thought of his maman every other second of the day. From what his maman was doing to what he was thinking to his likes and dislikes to what he wanted to do for his maman to what he wanted his maman to do for him.
His maman was all but his heart and soul. He was, as he heard people say, a 'maman's' boy.
Smiling still, he tugged on America's shirt, making him fall off of the table and slap his face off the ground. "Uncle dipshit has met the ground, da!"
Canada gaped. "B-brother, are you okay?" He leaned as far out his chair as he could to shake America's shoulder.
Before he could even touch Alfred, the American had leapt to his feet, tears of pride in his eyes as he fixed his glasses. "My nephew is so strong!" He offered him the hamburger again. "Please! For Uncle, take this! You deserve it for being so… awesome!"
Mathis was about to decline again with another insult when a dark aura intercepted, soon followed by the commanding figure of Russia.
"Het. Moĭ syn will not have your dirty food." His smile was oh-so childish and oh-so deceptive; his eyes belied his grin, all but violet flames of ice flashing at the self-proclaimed 'hero'.
America stood to his full height (not nearly enough to look threatening when standing against Russia) and glowered in return. "Hamburgers aren't dirty food! Your food is dirty food! It even sounds dirty! You commie bastard, you most likely have poison served in your food!"
"It makes our stomachs strong, da." Russia's grin grew at Alfred's taken aback expression.
"Are you serious?" America was buying into it.
Mathis grinned. Lovely.
Mathew was – yet again damning his 'gift' of invisibility – trying to stop the fight before it could actually begin without forcing either Mathis or Kumajirou to move. But his voice was too soft to carry and his sitting stance too nervous to attract their attention.
Mathis was of no help to his beloved maman, wanting to see the two fight far too much.
Sadly, such a thing can not come true when in such a full room of other intimidating beings.
Germany slammed a fist down on the table, startling both Italy and Vitalia out of their daydream with identical yelps of surprise. "STOP YOUR BICKERING! WE ARE FIVE MINUTES LATE IN STARTING THIS MEETING! IF WE DO NOT BEGIN SOON, I WILL TAKE OVER!" Of course, such a thing wouldn't be surprising, seeing as how that was usually how the meetings ended up anyways.
Nonetheless, the American felt threatened enough to abandon the argument with Russia and suddenly appear at the head of the table, all smiles as he laughed it off and dove right into a topic that had nothing to do with what they were supposed to be discussing.
Russia took a seat next to Mathew and Mathis, his vivid violet eyes sparkling when they focused on the two golden blondes. "My wife and son are happy, da?"
Canada sputtered. "I-I'm not your wife… N-now you're just sound-ding like Sweden…" He nuzzled his chin into Mathis's hair, effectively shutting himself up.
Mathis just giggled. "Da! Uncle shithead is entertaining!"
Canada sighed. 'Why are they so alike?' And, yet… He allowed himself a small smile as the two whispered back and forth, talking of minuscule things and ignoring America completely, even when Alfred noticed their (lack of) attention to his 'epic' speech on 'how to make cars fly' and began screeching at Russia.
"Why aren't you interested in what I have to say, huh? It's because you're a commie bastard, isn't it! You're against all things awesome and I bet you make puppies cry!"
Russia faked a gasp. "You know about the puppies?"
Mathis giggled, bringing his hands to his lips in a poor attempt to hide his growing smile.
Alfred, again, fell for it. "You seriously make puppies cry?" His bottom lip wobbled. "Don't worry, puppies!" He screamed to no puppy in particular. "I'll be your hero from this giant asshole!"
Unfortunately (or possibly with the greatest luck), a faucet pipe flew through the air (the offender unknown) and struck America in the head, causing him to reel backwards and then collapse, unconscious.
There was a moment of silence where England and France looked like they wanted to say something. However, one look at Russia's creepy smile and they sank into their chairs, not uttering a single word.
Germany sighed and took over the meeting. Just like usual, he started with the normal statement. "RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU WANT TO SAY SOMETHING! … Yes, Vitalia?" His voice gentled considerably, his lips curving warmly.
The small girl was waving her hand frantically back and forth, looking surprisingly serious. "Vater! Will there be pasta?"
The other nations were, again, careful not to look directly at her, even as she spoke.
Germany sighed. "When we get home."
"Ve~! That makes me happy!"
"ANYTHING ELSE? …" He stared at Mathis' raised hand, expression unfamiliar. He appeared to be openly debating whether or not to call on the baby nation; his own child was one thing, another child was something different. After a moment, he instead turned his gaze to Russia, therefore indirectly calling on Mathis. "SPEAK!"
Mathis pouted until his nana nudged his shoulder with an elbow, giving him his signature smile. "Not me." He clarified for his son.
Mathis smiled back in realization. "Da!" He cried out. "Can I play with Vitalia?"
Germany's expression suggested that Mathis could have just asked him if they could marry and his reaction would be no different.
However, before he could make the denial he looked so ready to give, Italy made a happy sighing sound. "Ve~ I would love it if you played with Vitalia, ve~"
Vitalia shared a look of horror with her vater, but the verdict had been passed.
Ludwig found it hard enough to say no to his daughter; to say no to his lover was physically and emotionally impossible for him.
"F-fine…"
Mathis gave his biggest smile yet, his arms waving as his sides almost as if they were wings. "Yay~!"
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Mathis had been slung across his nana's back, his arms secure around the Russian's shoulders so he wouldn't fall. Similarly, Canada held Kumajirou in his arms.
The world meeting had ended and now they were on their way to their temporary apartment, seeing as how the meeting lasted usually a week and flying to and from it would be both a hassle and a waste of time and money.
Mathis had been so excited! During the last twenty minutes of the meeting, he had played with Vitalia off in the corner; she was the only child he ever associated with close to his own age.
Human children could never keep up with him.
Sadly, Vitalia had been terrified most of that time and had, eventually, ended up crying, begging for her vater.
It seemed, just like Mathis was his maman's boy, Vitalia was her vater's girl.
He was pouting, displeased with how the play date had gone. When she had started crying, Ludwig had nearly attacked him.
It had taken his nana and his prized faucet pipe to make the German back off.
Understandably, Ludwig was very protective of his baby girl. Seeing as how Vitalia was just as useless in protecting herself as Italy, Mathis couldn't really get angry at the German for rushing to her defense.
He was only upset that Vitalia had started crying to begin with.
"Nana, why am I so scary?" He played with the pale blonde hair of his nana, his amethyst eyes curious and a little hurt.
For a moment, his nana tensed under the attention, before relaxing hesitantly, not saying a word against Mathis' action.
Ahead of them, his maman paused and looked back at them with obvious concern.
Ivan turned his head to smile at Mathis. "They're not scared of you; they're scared of me. You are my son; therefore, you are a part of me; they fear that part of you, da."
That only made Mathis more confused. "No one's scared of maman, and he's a part of me."
"No one can remember your maman."
His nana had a point there; why be afraid of something you can't even remember exists?
His maman huffed. "I-I'm not that forgettable…" A flash of doubt crossed his features. He hugged Kumajirou closer.
Mathis had the overwhelming urge to go to his maman and reassure him himself that, no, he wasn't forgettable! That he thought of his maman as often as his heart did beat!
He reached a hand to his maman, making the gesture for 'gimme' with a needy expression on his face.
His maman had a beautiful smile; rare and small, like a peek at the sun in the stormy tundra. His maman held his hand and tucked Kumajirou to his chest with his opposite arm.
Now the family walked side by side; Russia bowed his head to whisper to Mathew words Mathis couldn't catch but made his maman flush scarlet red nonetheless.
Kumajirou lifted his head slowly and seemed to notice Canada for the first time in a while. "Who?"
His maman still beet red in the face, turned his head away so that his golden blonde bangs fell over his eyes. "C-C-Canada… the g-guy who feed-d-ds you…"
Mathis couldn't help but notice that his stutter was worse than usual.
He peeked at his nana's expression of gluttonous satisfaction. "Nana, what did you just say to maman?"
For a moment, his nana looked as if he was going to answer.
"Don't!" His maman suddenly looked… frightening; what with his amethyst eyes shooting darts at his nana and his jaw set. "Don't you dare."
Ivan giggled. "Your maman says I can't tell you~"
"That's not fair, maman!"
His maman groaned and buried his face into the fluffy white fur atop Kumajirou's head, casing the bear's ear to twitch.
"Who?"
"Canada… The guys who's going to die of embarrassment…"
"Oh."
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Mathis whimpered in his sleep. He turned over and than writhed onto his back. He flipped onto his belly and then tried wiggling around until he could set his feet to the wall.
There was no comfortable position. And if there was, the nightmare of having his tetya Belarus slashing at him with a butcher knife (which was actually a memory he had from when he had been two years old) kept him awake until his body groaned at him to move.
With a roll, he landed to the side of the bed and swayed his way out of the sterile white room to the one adjoined to it.
He had his hand on the door when weird sounds floated out to him, making him pause.
Curious, he pressed his ear to the thin wood and listened.
"Ah… Aaah… N-non… M-Mathis… He will h-h-hear us!" The plea was followed by groaning that almost sounded pained.
Mathis' hands clenched and his eyes widened. Was someone hurting his maman? Where was his nana to defend him?
"Het." An all too familiar giggle reached his prying senses. "You just have to be quiet, da. He won't suspect a thing."
Mathis' stomach flopped and he paled. What was his nana doing?
"I-Ivan - ! O-oooh…"
Mathis could make out panting and more pain-like sounds.
Hesitantly, he tried to open the door – slowly and silently so his nana would not see him coming, just in case he was hurting maman – only to discover something greatly to his discomfort; it was locked.
He heard his maman cry out and begin babbling in French. He spoke so fast, all Mathis could catch was 'my white bear'.
His heart began to pound in fear. Was this about his nation? Was nana torturing maman or was maman fighting for him?
He felt his rage slowly growing.
"S'il vous plaît! Je ne peux pas prendre plus! Je vous en prie, merci!"
His control snapped. His nana had his maman begging! Begging, damn it! That was… That was… That was just unforgivable!
He slammed his body against the door, his stature of four foot nine" rattling the slab of wood on its hinges.
Inside the room, he heard his maman yelp.
He howled. "Stop hurting maman, nana! YA budu tolkatʹ vas v korobku i pochty v Ameriku!"
He heard his maman groan. "Maple…"
He had the door halfway broken when it suddenly swung open, surprising him enough that he collapsed against his nana's leg, who stood in the doorway in only black sweatpants.
Immediately, he jerked back, as if burned. He glared up at the somehow amused man before running around him and leaping onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his maman's shoulders and burying his face into his shoulder. He sniffled, trying to hold back his tears.
Uncle American asshole was right; his nana was a monster!
"Mathis…" His maman's arms came around him and a hand ran soothingly through his hair. "Mathis, I k-know you heard some… odd things… but it wasn't what it sounded like…" He coughed nervously.
Mathis pulled back to look at his maman's expression.
Canada was scarlet in the face, the blush traveling down to his collarbone and disappearing beneath the fluffy red robe he wore.
He tilted his head, confused.
The bed dipped as his nana sat down on the edge, smiling as always and, yet, there was something different about him; something annoyed and a little antsy.
Mathis could tell because his shoulders were tense, his should blades rigid and his scars seemed to tremble slightly, as if there was wound up energy beneath his skin. His smile was too strained and it was apparent that he didn't have much patience at that moment.
Mathis only curled closer around his maman, swearing silently to himself that he would never leave his parents alone again.
"M-Mathis…" His maman began uncertainly. "I… I th-think we have to have… a t-talk with you… A-about how you were b-born…"
"Da." His nana interjected. "We have to tell you about sex!"
He didn't catch a wink of sleep the rest of the night.
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The second day of the world meeting, Mathis was uncharacteristically silent. He took his preferred seat – his maman's lap, but continued to shift uncomfortably.
Last night's conversation kept replaying hauntingly in his mind.
He scowled; bring on tetya Belarus – rather her than sex any day.
Still upset, he buried his face into Kumajirou's fur, not wanting to acknowledge his nana yet.
His maman he couldn't be angry at; his nana? Completely different story.
Vitalia – strangely enough – seemed to pick up on his changed mood. She almost even looked concerned.
She wiggled out of her padre's lap and toddled her way over to Mathis, via under the table.
She tugged on Mathis' shoe, waited till she had his attention, and then gestured for him to join her.
She was shocked when he paled and stuffed his face into the little bear's fur, shaking his head wordlessly.
Confused and a little hurt (though somewhat relieved: ve~ she wouldn't have to spend time with the scary boy!), she crawled back to her padre and slipped into his lap before he even noticed she was missing.
The usual happened; America began blabbering about something impossible and Germany shot him down, took his place, and opened with the common statement. "RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY!... YES, ITALY?"
Vitalia looked up at her padre who smiled airily under the attention of Ludwig. "Ve~ Japan told me he was gonna have a baby, is that true, Doitsu?"
A few seats over, Japan turned red in the face; his mouth was moving, but no words came out.
Greece turned his head slowly to Japan, hesitant shock and then pleasure lighting his eyes. His lips curved gradually. "Is that true… Kiku?" His soft, unhurried voice carried somehow easily throughout the room.
Japan looked tempted to complete seppeku – the ancient Japanese custom of suicide.
Vitalia felt excitement take hold of her. "Ve~ Another baby?"
Ludwig blinked. "Huh… So you and Greece did sleep together…"
"Nothing happened!" Japan denied, but his tone was too desperate and his face far too revealing of the truth for even him to believe what he said.
Greece wrapped an arm around the modest man's waist and nuzzled his shoulder affectionately. "… We… will be good parents…"
Japan – just subtly – seemed to relax.
America, still pouting over having his spotlight taken away, paused in stuffing his face with hamburgers and looked at England. "Hey, Iggy." Beef splattered across the Brit's face with his every word. "How come so many guys are getting prego? You think there's a 'bow-chika-wow-wow-for-the-pow-wow' virus going on?"
England looked utterly disgusted – but that had to do with his now greasy self. "Don't speak with your mouth full, you damn bloke! And, no, there's no such virus!" He crossed his arms over his chest.
France leaned in. "Are you sure?" He purred close to England's ear. "Such a love bug has stricken me, though!" He continued dramatically. "Oh, si douce, je suis tenté de vous porter mon enfant pour que je puisse voir grandir juste pour vous embêter et moi adorons comme son papa beau!"
England promptly slapped him across the face. "Get away from me, you damn frog!"
Francis mimicked hurt as he sniffled.
Mathis as well listened; another baby? Another playmate? Maybe one that didn't cry whenever he tried to play with them…
He smiled for the first time since before the incident last night. 'Da.' He thought to himself, pleased. 'We will get along much better!'
Ludwig was staring at Italy, confusion clear there. 'How does he know these things?' He was thinking to himself.
So far, it seemed as if Italy was always the first to know; his own pregnancy and then… what's his name's pregnancy and now Japan's.
He shook the thought away. There was most likely no reason at all.
His lover was just… weird like that. Endearing, but no less strange. Then again, he would have to be strange to stick to Ludwig such as he did.
Germany relaxed at that. He cleared his throat loudly, demanding the attention of the nations once more. "IRRELEVANT! LET'S FOCUS ON THE TOPIC AT HAND HERE!" He noted silently to himself to give Italy a treat.
It may be irrelevant to the topic at hand, but it was definitely important.
Mathis was thinking much the same thing, a giggle escaping him.
Against him, Canada finally released a sigh of relief. It seemed as if his baby was finally coming around…
Next to them, Ivan twitched. He looked at his son out of the corner of his eyes, deciding whether or not he was too early to make love to his Matvey.
When he caught his son's eye and his giggle turned into a sneer, he decided that, no, it was still a little too early.
He mentally whimpered. A little too early…
It felt like hell.
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"Ve~ I would love to watch over Mathis and the bear, - aaah…" Italy's expression of airy joy didn't dissipate, but his confusion was apparent.
Mathew sighed. "Canada… I'm Canada."
"Matteo! Ve~" He made wide gestures with his arms for Mathis – who held Kumajirou to his chest – to enter the home he shared with Germany and his daughter.
Mathis, after another long moment, slipped past him. "VIT~AL~IA!"
There was a terrified squeak and then the sound of speeding feet, one set heavier than the first.
Canada frowned, concerned.
Italy continued to smile, completely unbothered. "Good night, Matteo~!"
Mathew smiled shakily back. "G-Good night, Italy…"
The door slid shut, but he continued to stand there for another three minutes.
He nibbled his bottom lip uncertainly. "This is… the first time Mathis has been away from me…" The thought was discomforting. He was half tempted to knock on the door and tell Italy that he had changed his mind – that he wanted his son (and his bear, but that was a given) to come home with him.
He forced himself not to. "It's too late now… He's already there…" Stealing a deep breath, he trudged back to his car and slipped in. Turning the engine on, he drove back to the apartment they now temporarily occupied.
Germany's small family had been lucky that the world meeting was being held within reasonable distance of their Berlin home.
He slipped into the apartment, locking the door behind him.
The room was pitch black, not a light turned on. "I-Ivan? Hello?" Squinting into the shadows, he stumbled blindly towards where he believed the bedroom to be.
A pang of guilt struck his heart; he had driven his son from him for what?
For sex.
But he couldn't get that expression of his mind; of that fear and anger that had made Mathis cry into his chest when Ivan had let him in.
He sighed. It couldn't be helped…
Rather this than have his Russian lover molest him within hearing range of their son.
"Ivan? I'm back…" He couldn't make out any telling shape in the darkness.
He heard only a disembodied giggle.
"My Matvey is so tempting~"
Hands grasped his hips and pulled him against a solid form. He gasped at the sudden connection before melting back into his lover.
The hands moved beneath his shirt and rubbed his abdominal muscles, making him shudder.
"We have time to tease, da?" Ivan's voice breathed over his ear, followed by the damp warmth of his tongue.
Canada wordlessly nodded his head.
"Good!"
A hand tilted Mathew's head back and to the side where lips slid along his, chapped yet warm – tasting like vodka and spices.
He sighed blissfully as Ivan pulled back to throw his shirt off and then Mathew's.
Ivan's eyes must have adjusted to the nonexistent lighting, because he lifted Mathew and effortlessly, without the slightest stumble, set him down on the ledge of what must have been the breakfast table.
Which meant that Mathew had taken the wrong turn in the hall; the bedroom was one door down.
The foreplay was quick – surprisingly so since Ivan enjoyed teasing Canada as much as he enjoyed the actual sex. Especially since Ivan had just said that they had time to tease.
A lick here ~ a caress there~ and hands sliding everywhere. Clothes dispersed so quickly, Canada wasn't sure if they were ripped from him or if he had been wearing them to begin with.
Before Canada could even comprehend it, his body was stretching to fit Russia's girth, his voice endlessly crying out. "I-Ivan!" His hands clawed at his lover's shoulders, his legs wrapped around his tapered waist. He panted, feeling the pain and pleasure mingle and war, trying to declare a winner. "Ivan!"
Russia didn't stop until he was completely surrounded by Mathew's tight heat, pausing only then to allow the Canadian to adjust.
Seconds passed in sweaty, mewling stillness before Mathew rolled his hips back onto him, a silent plea to start moving.
Russia threw Canada's legs over his shoulders and began rocking his hips, thrown into ultimate bliss at the sensation of Mathew all around him, nurturing and suckling him, squeezing him until all he could feel, see, hear, touch was –
"Matvey!" He growled. "My Matvey…" He purred when the smaller nation tangled his hands into his hair, arching against him. "YA vash Belyĭ medvedʹ, da?"
"Oui! Toujours la mienne! Mon Beliy medved!" Canada was thrusting back on him, increasing the pleasure, blinding him with the inescapable heat, the churning strain that threatened to snap at any given moment.
He pulled back; he had to.
He had to see his Matvey's expression when they came.
In the dimness of the room, he could still make out the Canadian's expression; one of pure, unrivaled pleasure – pleasure so great, he could tell by the gaping mouth and teary eyes that it nearly bordered on pain.
"Cum for me, da?" He panted raggedly, moving faster, harsher – he wanted to experience it – that moment where his Matvey's eyes would widen even further, his mouth open even more; that moment in which his body was forced to realize that he could reach deep within Matvey and claim that place in which no other could ever comprehend.
And he did experience it; Mathew's hands bit into his scalp, a wail ripped from his throat as his body began to shake. He whispered things beneath his breath, things said too softly and too rapidly for Russia to catch.
In moments, liquid white splattered across Mathew's belly and chest, a smudge catching on his cheek. His inner muscles clenched around Ivan, dragging at his length and milking him dry of his own seed.
Both of them gasping to catch their breath, both of them happily sated, they rested for a moment.
Ivan was the first to lift his head. He giggled as he noticed something. "Matvey looks like a feast spread out on the table like this." He touched Mathew's golden blonde hair, rubbing the soft strands between his pointer finger and thumb.
Even in the dark, Mathew blushed. "W-well, that's not my fault… You were the one who didn't get us to the bedroom on time…"
Ivan smiled and accepted the accusation without a fight. He didn't mind to be blamed for this.
He was actually proud to be blamed for this.
And then the table groaned beneath their weight.
There was a loud cracking sound before they both tumbled to the ground, the table still beneath them. Canada, being the one on the bottom, took the brunt of the fall with only a surprised yelp.
Russia blinked owlishly at the new development.
"… That was so your fault." Canada giggled nonetheless. With the small amused sound, his expression brightened; his amethyst eyes all but glowed in the dark, his dainty smile far too adorable to say no to.
"Da? Well, then, this is my fault, too." He smiled, a feral, hungry little twist of lips.
Mathew had no time to even understand what that meant before he was happily molested by his Russian lover again.
070707070707070
Mathis was happily curled around a not-so-happy Vitalia. Napping against his back, Kumajirou couldn't care less for either of the children, snoring in his sleep.
Vitalia was wide awake, if only for the terror she felt.
Mathis scared her; sure, he had never actually harmed her and sometimes he even went out of his way to protect her, but still…
He was frightening.
She whimpered as he nuzzled against her shoulder. She wanted to scream for her vater to come and save her, but she was afraid of waking Mathis up.
She couldn't even blink for fear of waking him up. What would he do if she woke him up?
She paused in her crazed thought process. What was that?... There, it happened again!
It sounded like someone was whimpering in fear!... and it wasn't her!
She tilted her head hesitantly up from Mathis' chest to look at the boy's expression; he was still sleeping, but his features were twisted. He looked haunted and afraid. Russian slipped from his mouth, a language she did not comprehend, much less know in the least.
But he looked so scared…
Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, gently and carefully so as not to wake him or the little bear against him.
She smiled at her own bravery.
Who could be scared of someone who was already scared? She began a soft Italian lullaby beneath her breath, no longer so afraid, but still too high off of adrenaline to fall asleep.
Meanwhile, Mathis was trapped in his age-old nightmare. Tetya Belarus yet against wielded the butcher knife.
But, wait, no… There was warmth around him now; no longer the cool tiles of the bathroom floor where tetya Belarus had cornered him.
And there was a voice, too… It was soft and kind and he really liked it; it reminded him of his maman, only this voice was more feminine and higher-pitched.
Tetya Belarus faded away into nothing. And he slept, possibly for the first time when not in the presence of his nana or maman, without being terrified.
0707070707070707070
Some months later…
"Ve~ Japan's baby is really cute!" Italy stood side by side with Germany and Vitalia, looking down into the sleeping face of Japan's and Greece's lovechild. "What's his name?"
Further off, Canada and Mathis waited on the sidelines. Canada had only found it right to - seeing as how Italy, Germany, and Japan were the original Axis Powers - let them have their time.
He smiled down at his pouting son. "We'll see him soon, don't worry, eh?" He ruffled Mathis' hair affectionately.
In his arms, Kumajirou looked blankly up at him. "Who?"
"Canada, the guy who feeds you."
"Oh…"
Back at the hospital bed, Japan looked uncertain how to answer. He gazed up at Greece, as if supposing he knew what to say.
Greece looked from their child to Japan's expectant expression to the ceiling in one slow half-circle. Minutes went by in silence as he stared blankly upwards. "… Orion…" After another moment, he nodded, deeming the name fit as he looked back to Japan to see his expression.
Kiku looked to Ludwig and Feliciano. "He is Orion." He made it sound as if he had known so from the beginning.
"Ve~ Like the star constellation?" Italy pointed up, appearing to be gesturing to said constellation through the ceiling.
Greece began to shake his head before he stopped himself, giving it another moment's consideration. "… Yes…"
Japan, in turn, nodded. "It would seem so."
Ludwig grunted. "He looks like a fine boy." He slipped a finger into the baby's grasp.
The newborn didn't even bother to squeeze down on the digit, seeming more content to sleep away.
"He shall be like his father." The Germany stated.
"Ve~ Which one?" Italy cocked his head curiously.
Ludwig wisely said nothing.
"I wanna see him, ve~" Vitalia leaped about, trying to get a better look at the infant.
Ludwig lifted her up and held her to his chest so she could see Orion but not touch – not quite yet. She was known to get excited with cute things.
Perhaps, one day, when she learned to distribute her energy right, he would let her.
She gasped at the cuteness of the small, warm-looking bundle of flesh. "He's adorable~" Her amber eyes sparkled.
Mathis wanted nothing more than to take a peek as well, but he kept his maman's words well at heart.
He would wait.
And then a thought occurred to him. "Maman." Canada looked down to him. "Doesn't this mean that now there will be another baby nation? This one Japanese-Grecian?"
His maman paused, giving it considerable thought. "… I… guess so…"
From the bed, Japan heard the question. "… Please turn the television on."
Feliciano rushed to do so, setting it to the proffered channel.
Indeed; another chunk of land had been discovered; Grecian remains had been found, surprisingly enough, on an island some miles off from Daito Shoto.
"That's weird." Mathis point-blank stated.
"I wonder if land forms because we give birth or if we give birth because land forms…" Japan mumbled, possibly more to himself than the others in the room.
"I doubt it." Germany grunted. "That land's been there if they found remains on it; how did Grecian remains get on it is what I want to know."
"Ve~ Just like how a Canadian Politician found that Russian island and that German boatmen found Terra Tedesca!"
"I guess… the land is finding ways… to bind us together…" Greece watched Japan more than he watched the TV.
A thoughtful silence fell at his words.
Mathis looked up at his maman who was looking lovingly down at him. "I bind you and nana together, da?"
His maman chuckled. "Oui." He crouched down, Kumajirou in hand, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You have made us… infinitely happier since coming into our lives." His soft voice didn't carry to the larger group.
But that didn't matter; Mathis heard him and that was all that counted.
He smiled up at his maman. "Can I see him now?"
Canada looked questioningly at the group before nodding. "I think so."
Mathis hardly gave him time to finish speaking before he was at Japan's side, looking at the baby, Orion. He giggled.
He wasn't sure what they found to be so cute about him… he looked shriveled and bald; but, hey, it didn't really matter. "Vitalia and I are going to be your allies, da." He assured the newborn. "We newer nations are going to stick close together."
Ludwig didn't seem to comfortable with that, but Italy and Japan looked touched and Greece didn't seem to care either way, so there wasn't much he could say on the subject; even his daughter looked pleased with the vow.
And then his gaze focused on Canada. "… Pardon, are you the doctor?"
Pained amethyst eyes looked at him. "… I'm Canada…"
"… Oh…"
"Who?"
"The guy who feeds you."
"Oh…"
070707070707070707070
Mathis and Ivan were having some father-son bonding time.
That is, if 'father-son bonding time' meant 'aiming a gun at America's head and preparing to shoot'.
It was three months after Orion's birth; his island had been given the Japanese name Zeusu no tochi, which, translated into English, meant 'Land of Zeus'. It had been named such in honor of the Grecian artifacts and skeletons found there, which were then transferred to a proper burial ground.
It was now yet another week focusing on one problem after another at the world meeting.
The joy Mathis had felt in the beginning had quickly worn off; somehow, he had managed to talk his nana out of attending and into teaching him how to wield a gun.
Unfortunately for Alfred, the American had also decided to skip; from what Ivan and Mathew could hear several stories up on the roof of the building across from the diner America occupied in the calm, silent evening of Canada, he was planning on making the other nations realize how much they needed him – the hero – by his absence.
That was too bad… for him, to say the least.
"You are lined up, da?" Russia held his son close, positioning him just right. "His right temple?"
Mathis nodded, putting as much focus into his target as he could; but the adrenaline was pumping and his excitement was starting to get out of control. He felt like he could run laps around the building, race up and then back down from the roof, come back up and then – just maybe – have spent enough energy to stay still and shoot his Uncle dickhead.
But he couldn't do that; it was now or never.
He clicked the safety off. Slowly, with a trembling finger, he began to press down on the trigger, focused entirely on his prey.
He could hear his nana kolkoling behind him, keeping him balanced in a kneeling position with a hand resting between his shoulder blades, keeping him straight. "Remember, never tell Matvey, da?"
"Da!" And he pulled the trigger.
The shot was a whistle of air that echoed throughout the clearing, the endless cry only broken by the surprised and pained yelp of America as he jerked out of his seat and fell backwards. He began wailing, screaming of ghosts and commie bastards and things much alike to those (or at least alike in the American's own mind).
Ivan and Mathis were laughing, leaning against each other and basking in the moment.
Even when their humor began to wear off (it was funny as hell and they would most likely start laughing about it again later, but their sides were starting to hurt and their jaws were sore), Alfred was still crying out for help and screaming obscenities.
"Do you think he knows it's only a paintball?" Mathis looked curiously to his nana.
Ivan smiled evilly. "Het. The paintball was red-colored."
Kolkoling the whole way, they abandoned the roof, leaving the American to howl on end.
"HELP! HELP! I'VE BEEN SHOT! THE HERO HAS BEEN SHOT! OH GOD, I'M GOING TO DIE! AAAAH! HELP! HELP MEEEEEE!"
Abrupt ending, I know… I just got to this point and then my brain went, 'there's the stop sign!' So this is the ending… Sorry if you all wanted more.
I felt too lazy to put it into chapters…
I have decided that the last story looked sloppy with the translations in the story. Sorry if you found that more practical; instead, there are here along with the meaning to the manbabies' names!
Manbabies:
Mathis (French for 'Gift from God') – male child of Mathew Williams and Ivan Braginski
Vitalia (Italian for 'full of live') – female child of Feliciano Vargas and Ludwig (last name unknown)
Orion (Greek for 'Dweller on the Mountain') – male child of Honda Kiku and Heracles Karpusi
Translations:
Vater – German for 'father'
Padre – Italian for 'father'
Nana – Russian for 'daddy'
Maman – French for 'momma'
Nein – German for 'no' (I used to take a German class~)
Merci – French for 'thank you'
Moĭ syn (read in Russian: 'мой сын') – Russian for 'my son'
Tetya (read in Russian: 'тетя') – Russian for 'aunt'
S'il vous plaît! Je ne peux pas prendre plus! Je vous en prie, merci! – French for 'Please! I can't take anymore! I beg of you, mercy!'
YA budu tolkatʹ vas v korobku i pochty v Ameriku! (read in Russian: 'Я буду толкать вас в коробку и почты в Америку!') - I'll shove you in a box and mail you to America!'
Oh, si douce, je suis tenté de vous porter mon enfant pour que je puisse voir grandir juste pour vous embêter et moi adorons comme son papa beau! – French for 'Oh, so sweet; I am tempted to have you bear my child so that I may see it grow just to annoy you and adore me as its beautiful papa!'
YA vash Belyĭ medvedʹ, da? (read in Russian: 'Я ваш Белый медведь, да?') – Russian for 'I am your white bear, da?'
Yes! Toujours la mienne! Mon Beliy medved! – French for 'Yes! Always mine! My beliy medved (beliy medved is Russian for white bear)!'
Appreciation for:
I give thanks to KeidaHattori, kayoangel, Twilight4everTDI2, and youtube video 'Breathe – RussiaXCanada' by sheepladybaa. I thank the first three for asking for a sequel and the youtube video because I kept replaying it while I was writing this~ I haven't actually watched the video, but it's an awesome song.
Forgive me for any spelling errors… I don't usually beta my own work because I get so excited to post it! And it's nearly one in the morning… So that could be a factor, too…
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