US/Canada fic

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself, America?" A box of tissues was shoved under his nose as a weight fell on the couch cushion beside him. Didn't they call them something weird here? Chesterfields, or something like that. It was really somewhat lame. You can't be a chesterfield potato on a bad day. That takes too much effort to even say. America sniffed a bit and took a tissue, wiping his eyes before blowing his nose.

"Because I know he's just playing hard to get. They're all like that over there. It's a test or something!" He sniffed again as he folded the tissue, bringing it up to blow his nose again.

"What if it's not? I hate seeing you like this, America. You shouldn't be heartbroken and miserable." A hand was on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. America looked up to meet the blurred but obviously concerned gaze of Canada. He'd never let anyone else see him in this state, but Canada knew. Canada understood him better than anyone.

"I just…I don't…" He felt a new round of tears building as he thought about it. "Why doesn't he like me?" It was more of a wail than he'd intended it to be, but he was fighting to get the words out amidst the tears racking his whole body. It was exhausting to go through this every year; every month; every meeting.

"Not a lot of them do, America, for a lot of reasons." Canada sighed and pulled a tissue out of the box. America blinked as he leaned over, gingerly dabbing the new tears away. "Maybe he likes someone else. I like someone who is too busy getting their heartbroken by a jerk every time he sees them to notice me. It doesn't stop me from waiting to be there for them, though."

"Wow. You need to get better taste, Canada. That guy sounds like a complete idiot!" America sniffled again, blowing his nose. "Too dumb for someone like you." He sniffled again and smiled weakly.

Canada smiled and nodded a bit. "I could say the same to you." He set the tissue box aside as America shifted to lean against him. He moved his arms around him and America smiled as his fingers sifted through his hair. The motion caused a tingling sensation all the way down his spine. It had a surprisingly calming effect. He sat still, leaning into Canada's arms, letting his eyes close as they became heavy.

He barely registered as the other moved; shifting them to lie down on the sofa. Canada was America's pillow. America was Canada's blanket. He turned so that he could curl up in Canada's chest, moving his arms around him. Perhaps it would be better to say Canada was America's body pillow. This was how it was after every meeting, every rejection. America couldn't even recall when it had started, but Canada was there the first time, and every time since. If he had to be completely honest with himself, America would have to question whether he set himself up for failure on purpose more often than not.

"Hey, Canada?" He opened his eyes, even as his voice slurred in protest of the action. His body was heavy with warmth and the desire to sleep.

"Hm?" The response was just as tired.

"If I didn't like him, and you didn't like that other idiot, would you go out with me? You know, I mean, am I, like, dateable?" It was just a hypothetical, of course. Maybe he was just completely undateable. Maybe he was just lying to himself about what he was asking again.

"America, if you asked me on a date, I would drop that other idiot faster than he could consume that bag of hamburgers he's always carrying around, and say yes." Oh, well. That made him feel a bit better. Now, what idiot walked around carrying…oh. Oh. He lifted his head, meeting Canada's gaze again. Oh.

"Oh…I…I'm that idiot, aren't I?"

Canada nodded slightly, the gentle stroking of America's hair never faltering. "You are."

"Oh, well…" America smiled a bit. "Wanna go out with me?"

Canada blinked. "What about being so in love with Turkey?"

America blinked. Right. That. Wasn't that why he was here in the first place? No. He knew why he was here. "I got over that a long time ago." He smiled a bit. "I'm just a big idiot that didn't realize I kept going so that I could be here, with you, like this. I needed an excuse…"

Canada smiled. "Well. Can I punch Turkey for making you cry all these years anyway?"