Okay so Hetalian Roulette is a game a few friends and I made up during lunch one day. Basically, you write a list of Hetalia characters and give each one a number. Then you take a die (think D&D dice) and roll it. Whatever number you get is the character you have to write a story or draw a picture with your character with them as a pairing. My Hetalia character most like me is Canada and I got Sweden. So this is the product of that. I couldn't really write them together together, so I made it a fluke.

Warnings: Really OOC Canada and Finland, scary auras, and use of human names. No smut this time, unfortunately.

It was hard to be Matthew. For example , after world meetings he, being the polite person that he was, would always stay back to hold the door open for the other nations. He saw it as the least he could do, given that he could not give much to the meetings themselves. Not many noticed his kindness, thinking that the door stood open on its own or did not think of it at all, too busy thinking of their own busy lives to notice the polite Canuck. Every once in a while the deep violet eyes of a certain Russian would gaze at the Canadian as he passed through, followed by a smile that held secrets and promises, but this story is not about that.

This story is about the day that a meeting ended rather differently from usual. The meeting itself ended with no oddities. The nations were all leaving, one group at a time. The Allies, shuffled out of the door, all arguing at each other, per usual. Then came the Axis Powers, the more mature two shaking their head at the bickering group while one went on and on about pasta. The Asians, the Baltics...All the groups began to drift off to do their own thing. It's what happened after that was quite strange.

Eventually all who were left was the fore mentioned Russian, Sweden, and Finland. And, of course, Matthew, doing his usual duty as door holder. The Swede was walking towards the door, shuffling papers with his usual stern expression, with Finland trailing after him.

The Finnish man was mirroring his expression, though the sour expression seemed to be for a different reason than the taller man's natural harsh glare. For the past few days, he had tried to find a way to show his feelings for the man, but he was either working all the time or staring at him in such a scary way it caused him to run away in fear. He knew how Sweden felt for him, he had shown it often enough, and his fear if the man had slowly grown into a fondness and then love.

Blushing cherry red, he decided that it was now or never. They were for the most part alone (aside from Russia, and who cared if he saw?) and he wasn't going to let such an opportunity pass him by.

Gathering all the courage in his small body, he rushed for the Swede, who was now just a few steps from the door. Glomping him from behind, he squeaked "I love you, Berwald!"

He heard the rustle of paper as documents flew out of the Swede's hands from the force of the glomp. Maybe he had done it too hard...If so, why weren't they on the floor? He opened his eyes, which had been screwed shut, and gasped. There was a man he had never seen before, grasping Sweden's waist. His violet eyes were wide with surprise, probably because of a certain blonde's lips pressed against his own. Sweden's face was a whole new level of shock. His face was a bright red, his scary aura was up by at least 80 percent.

The Canadian whimpered beneath the intimidating man. He barely understood what was even happening. One second he was standing by the door, minding his own business and now he was awkwardly pressed against what seemed like an equally confused Sweden. He knew he wasn't going to hurt him, he was observant enough in meeting to find that the blonde wasn't violent, if a little scary faced. What was more terrifying, was the increasingly angry aura coming from the figure behind him. Quickly pulling away with an awkward smile, the Canadian attempted to smooth things over.

"S-sorry about tha-"

"What the hell do you think you are doing to my man, bitch?!"

The outburst came from a furious Finland, who had now taken a still shocked Sweden's hand and pulled him behind himself. His aura was black and he looked about ready to attack, making the already flustered Canuck stutter even more.

"I-it was an accide-"

"Like hell it was! I don't know who you are but you need to stay away from Berwald, got it? He's mine!"

"It's n-not like t-that, I s-swear!"

The Canadian was now whimpering in fear, cowering on the ground. Now, he wasn't usually so easily scared, far from it actually. But the murderous look in the Finnish man's eye was enough to make anyone afraid. Well, almost anyone.

A large shadow fell over Matthew, and he shut his eyes, preparing to die.

"Now, now. This was all a big misunderstanding. Matvey was just trying to make sure your lover didn't fall. He wouldn't do anything inappropriate to him because he is mine just like Sweden is yours. There is no need for violence, da?"

The Russian was standing between Finland and Canada, protecting Matthew and simultaneously passive aggressively threatening Tino.

Finland gulped, but opened his mouth to argue, scary Russian be damned, when he felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder. He looked back to see a slightly blushing Sweden, still a bit fazed from the kiss.

"It's okay"

Just the touch of the larger male calmed the Finnish man a bit, but he was still pretty ticked.

"But he-"

Strong arms wrapped around him like the most comforting straightjacket in the world. He felt hot breath against his ear as the man crouched to give him the restraining hug, making him shiver slightly.

"It's okay, Tino."

He wanted to argue, wanted to fight anyone that touched the Swede, but he just gave a long sigh, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the comforting embrace.

"...Fine."

He opened his eyes to see the Russian picking up the curled up male on the floor, cradling him in his arms as if he weighed nothing. The canuck had stopped cowering and relaxed into the male's arms. He did belong to the Russian, he realized. Whoever he was. Okay, maybe he had overreacted a bit. The stress of trying to convey his feelings to the Swede had gotten to his head. He caught the violet eyes of the stranger and gave him an apologetic smile. It was returned with a knowing grin, understanding his lashing out. Even the ever-passive Canadian had his jealous moments.

"Let's get you home, malyutka" said the large Russian man, carrying Matthew out the door.

And so Finland was left alone with Sweden. It was silent for a few minutes, before a quiet question passed from the Swede's lips.

"Did you mean that?" He let go of Finland, turning him around so he could look him in the eye.

Finland sighed, giving a small nod. "It could have went a little better, but yes, I do love you Berwald, with all my heart." He blushes giving him a weak smile. "Will you still accept me, even after seeing me like that?"

The Swede pulled him into an almost uncomfortably tight hug, his face almost cherry red.

"Yes, always."

And thus, the meeting was completed with an unusual but happy ending.