A/N: Don't be scared by the fact that this is following Canada's point of view. It really is FrUK. XD
Warnings: Implications/innuendos, Mattieu's innocence, France's inability to be anyone other than himself, and England's potty mouth. Slightly.
You could also think of this as shounen-ai or fluff, if you prefer. I myself have not thought about that yet; I'm just having fun writing~
Many thanks to Shinigami's Brush for betaing this piece~ It wouldn't be up here if not for her.
Misunderstandings and Eavesdropping
A FrUK Hetalia Fanfiction
One afternoon in the fall, after another World Meeting, Canada found himself heading back to the meeting room in search of his sweatshirt. The weather had been getting colder lately, the maple leaves turning from emerald green into brilliant colors of scarlet, gold, and russet-brown, and the blond-haired country, while fond of cool weather, found he liked it better when his body wasn't chilled.
The room, while dark and empty, was simple to navigate and Canada found his sweatshirt with ease, turning around towards Kumajirou who had lumbered in behind him as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head. The article of clothing was one of his favorites, warm and resembling his flag. Coincidentally, it was a gift from his older brother Alfred, from one time a couple years back when the "hero" actually remembered his birthday.
Matthew picked up the undersized polar bear, addressing it in a sweet voice. "So now we'll go home, and have pancakes and syrup for dinner, and maybe watch a hockey game. Sound good, Kuma… Kuma-chan?"
The animal gazed up at the country holding him with a befuddled, adorable expression. "Who?"
Canada sighed. "I'm Canada, your owner, remember?" He'd sworn he had gotten the name correct, too. "Whatever. Let's just go home."
Half a minute later, he was walking down a deserted hallway, white bear in his arms, lost in thought. It really bothered him that he seemed to be forgotten or ignored by all the other countries. Russia had sat down on him again today, nearly crushing the quiet boy. After some time, the super country seemed to realize this and got up, apologizing for being careless. He ended by asking, "But you would love to become one with me, da?"
Canada was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of voices, albeit a little muffled, coming from a closed door he was passing. Normally, he would forget about it and keep moving, but he thought he heard England and France's voices… He listened; it was them. He had been raised to the tones of their (more often than not) arguing voices; how could he not recognize them? Curious as to their discussion, he paused, listening through the door.
"Oui, Angleterre. Just lay down over zere, mon cher. Take your shirt off, as well."
"Bloody pervert! Why should I take my shirt off?"
"Because," the Frenchman purred, "eet eez easier zan 'aving moi take eet off for you. Unless, of course, you would razer 'ave zat?"
"No way, frog! I don't want you touching me that way!" England said indignantly. Canada could just imagine the angry expression the older nation would be wearing at the moment.
There was a rustle of clothing and Canada sank to the floor against the wall, cheeks flaming and blue eyes wide behind his glasses, as he realized exactly what England would be doing with France… alone… taking his clothes off…
"Eep!" Canada made a small noise which, thankfully, went unnoticed by the other two nations in the vicinity and buried his face in Kumajishi's (that had to be it) fur. Embarrassed, he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, but (since this is fanfiction) for the sake of the plot the author said "No," so he had to remain seated as the voices resumed their conversation.
"A-aah! Bloody frog! Your hands are cold!"
"S'il vous plaît, 'old still mon cher. Eet eez 'ard to do zis when you are ztruggling around like zat."
"But your hands are freezing!"
"Eet eez ze lotion. I am very sorry, mon amour."
Canada could feel his face becoming a permanent shade of pink as Kumo-Kumo struggled a bit in his arms. England suddenly let out a groan and the listening country crushed his glasses slightly against his bear's side, his cheeks flaming to crimson against the strikingly white fur.
"Mon amour, what 'ave you been doing? You're so tight."
"I-ow!" The island nation panted slightly. "That hurt, frog! Be gentle!"
"Ahh~ Désolé, mon coeur. Désolé."
"You'd better be sorry, frog!"
Canada wasn't sure if he could possibly turn any redder, but fortunately was spared from discovering so by America's timely arrival. The younger brother was hailed around a mouthful of burger.
"Hey, Matt! Wuff are yuff doing?"
"Shh!" He pulled his older brother down next to him and made shushing sounds. "Arthur and Francis are in there, and they're doing… it…"
Alfred swallowed, laughing. "That's soo not it, Matt! Seriously, if you wanna joke, at least make it a funny one!"
"But I'm serious! Just listen to what they're saying! And be quiet; we don't want to get discovered…"
At that moment, the rest of the little speech he was making was drowned out by a particularly loud yell by England:
"BLOODY HELL! What the-" here he added in some… colorful language "was that? You stupid frog! That hurt like the blazes! What do you think you're doing- aah, ohh goodness… don't stop that, it feels really good…" he trailed off, moaning in pleasure, leaving silence on both sides of the door as Matthew and Alfred were too shocked to say anything.
"Mon Dieu, Angleterre, well at least we know your zhouting 'as not changed. You are az loud az ever."
"Ohh… God… Francis, don't stop that… Aah, you're so good a-at this…" he moaned.
"Very vocal, are we mon amour? Do not worry, cher, eet will not 'urt for long." His voice was low and seductive, and at this America stood up and stepped away from the door, about to force it open.
"No, Alfred, don't!" Canada attempted to get up and stop his brother, but was hindered by the polar bear now sleeping in his lap. "Ow, Kumajishi, your claws…" Distracted by the scratches now adorning his chest, he leaned back against the door again, trying to disentangle the claws from his shirt. Unfortunately, at the very same time, America put his full weight into the door, much like one of his football players would. The result was that Canada fell into the room flat on his back, banging his head on the floor in the process.
"And the hero is here to save the day!" Said hero beamed, exuberant at having been able to knock down a door which, coincidentally, didn't have a good latch.
The scene which met his eyes- and Canada's, although upside-down- was not the one that they had expected. England lay face down on the couch in the room, one arm dangling over the edge of the cushion, shirt in hand. France was sitting next to him, his hands in entirely innocent positions. Both of the nations stared at the newcomers to the room, slightly confused as to why they were bursting into the room.
Canada's mouth dropped open in shock. "You were giving him a massage?"
Francis gazed back at him with a raised brow as if he was an idiot. "Of course, mon petit lapin. What else would we be doing?"
Alfred decided it was time to remind them he was there. "See, Matt? I told you that wasn't what they were doing! Haha, nice pie!"
So after writing this a friend of mine read it and gave me the excellent idea that it wasn't finished. Some good influence she is. (Just kidding, Chibi.) So here is my extended version, which bears the warning: America actually knowing something that isn't completely obvious. And, again, France being himself.
Alternate Ending:
Canada's face flushed the reddest it had been all day. "Eh? Err… I'm sorry!" Immediately, he picked himself up off the floor, fleeing the room quickly with Kumokujaka-kun. He disappeared from Alfred's line of sight within moments, revealing just how embarrassed he was.
America stayed for a moment longer, munching on some french fries he got from- where did he get them from? "Okay, well now that that's settled, I'll let you two geff back to wuff you were doing." He flashed a thumbs-up and a smirk that told them he knew more of what was going on then he appeared to. A split second later, England and France were alone once more with the door closed.
Arthur turned his head as far as it would go to look up at Francis. "Do you think we should tell them what we were really doing?"
Francis pretended to consider this for a moment, his blue eyes sparkling. "Non, let us let zem zink. Besidez, Amerique eez a good "early-warning" system, non?
Green eyes glowed admiringly. "I agree, frog. But, it was still impressive, how quickly you covered everything up."
His answer was a predatory glint in France's eyes indicating that their "massage session" wasn't quite over…
(This story is dedicated to a friend of mine who makes… strange noises when she receives a massage.)
And now for my review policy: If you liked it, then review. If you didn't, then review and tell me why. If you're too lazy to review that's your problem.
~Rose