Everyone Should Just Elope
Summary: "A romantic relationship is completely inappropriate in the G8!" Well then, I guess everybody should get kicked out then. [Canada x America, Germany x Italy, France x England, Spain x Romano, a hint of Russia x China] [One-shot]
*Note: Translations at the end ~
Hetalia – Axis Powers © Hidekaz Himaruya
Never, ever bring Al to the summit early. Too much waiting time only brings the most idiotic ideas to his head.
The epiphany crosses Matthew's mind too slow, too late, as he glares at the wall and tries to ignore his southern neighbor who is now pointing his finger accusingly at Germany.
"Corruption!" he cries. "There is corruption in the G8! I can't believe that I haven't realized this before!"
A vein is already beginning to show on Germany's forehead.
"What are you talking about, America?" he asks calmly, slowly preparing himself for whatever stupidity that will be coming out of the other's mouth.
Expressionless besides his brother, Matthew hopes –desperately, naively– that ignoring Al will solve everything.
"Italy! Italy!" Al bangs his hand on the table. "I've always wondered why such a small country was part of such an important group like the G8 – "
"Because he's one of the eight richest nations in the world?" Germany monotones the obvious.
" – and now I finally found out why!" America continues triumphantly. "You – " Again, he points melodramatically at the European nation, "smuggled Italy into the G8 because there's obviously something between you."
Quietly, subtly, Matthew glares at his brother.
"Al…" he says quietly, his voice not overcome by shyness like it usually is but instead laced with warning.
Unfortunately, America is oblivious as he goes on with his rant:
"You guys are obviously in a romantic relationship! And that is completely inappropriate in a group as important as the G8! This is supposed to be a professional atmosphere!"
"Al…" Matthew narrows his eyes at America, asking himself how his brother can be so dense as not to sense the aura of pure murder coming from his northern counterpart.
Unless he stops America from his nonsensical tirade, it will be only a matter of time before Germany finds out just how moronic Al's outburst is.
"You and Italy should be kicked out of the group!" America continues. "Where is Italy?"
Frantically, he swerves his head to look for brunette, but there is only Germany, who is counting to infinity in order not to explode, and Russia and Japan, who are blithely ignoring the conversation, or rather America's monologue. And then there's Canada, who looks like he is so close to declaring war on his closest ally.
"Al…" he says one last time, hoping to stab America with his glower. Al glances at him for a moment but fails to catch the dangerous glint in Matthew's eyes.
"We –the G8– should not –cannot– stand for anything as trivial as romantic feelings to distract us from our agenda and our mission!" America at last states gloriously.
At precisely the same moment, Canada abruptly stands up.
"America," he hisses. "Please do us all a favor and stop uttering absolute stupidities. Otherwise, we will throw you out of the G8."
Everyone looks up, surprised, at Canada's cool but brutal statement. Even Germany, usually only able to fluctuate from stoicism to anger, widens his eyes at a Canada he has never seen before. And America stares at his brother and then at Kumajiro, who is now being strangled by his owner, all the while squeaking, "Help me! Help me!" Yes, this is a dire situation indeed.
"Matt! Matt!" he says, in his alarmed state forgetting to use his brother's nation name. "Are you all – "
"Shut up."
Japan raises a laconic eyebrow.
"Matt!" America's attitude suddenly changes, his voice becoming pleading. "I'm really sorry! Please don't be mad at me!"
He leans over to Matthew, hoping to kiss away the other's firm frown, but Canada violently pushes his face away.
Germany simply stares. One… Two… Three. Understanding dawns. Then comes outrage.
"America!" he bellows. "How dare you throw your sordid accusations at me when obviously you and Canada are acting as inappropriately or even more so than Italy and I? What hypocrisy – "
"Mon Dieu! We haven't even arrived and already they're having some fun without us! Isn't that scandalous, mon cher?"
All heads turn to the entrance of the meeting room, where France and England have just arrived, followed by a strangely expressionless Italy.
"It is quite amusing," England says with a condescending smirk as he settles down in his chair, "that the other G8 nations spend their free time arguing about their love lives. How pitiful, isn't it, Italy?"
On the other side of the room, Francis sees Matthew blush and look away, and he frowns.
"But I disagree, Angleterre," he whispers into the Englishman's ear. "Don't you remember how much fun we had last night, how you sighed under my kisses – "
"YOU BLOODY FROG!"
In the smallest fraction of a second, England's fist connects with France's jaw and the two begin their normal shouting-and-strangling routine. Across from them, Germany returns to berating America while Canada simply sighs and sinks lower into his chair.
"Isn't this fun, Japan?" Russia hums merrily to the Asian nation. "If only Yao were here, I'm sure it would be even funner ~ "
"I'm sure," Japan says blandly. He then serenely turns to the host country. "Italy, if you wouldn't mind, could you please start the meeting?"
At first, Italy does not respond, and Kiku assumes that he is too busy daydreaming about pasta. And then –
"All right – SHUT THE HELL UP, EVERYONE!"
At once, the chaos subsides. Romano glares at everyone in his seat, his arms crossed.
"Obviously there is no order in this fucking G8 summit when Feliciano is here," he growls. "So I'm going to set things straight. First order of the day: we are getting rid of this potato bastard here." He jerks his thumb at Germany.
"Wait a minute, Romano, you can't just… There are procedures – "
"Shut up, figlio di puttana," the Italian snarls. "I'm the host country here and I make the rules."
"Well, since we will need another nation in the G8, can I suggest Spain… again?" France lifts his hand jovially. England groans besides him.
"Trust the wine bastard to come up with a stupid idea!" Romano growls, but by the sudden blush on his face, it is obvious that the Spanish was his first candidate of choice as well. "But fine, we'll see."
And by the end of the day, Germany is kicked out of the G8 and Spain becomes its new member. And not much else gets done.
"What a productive day!" America snuggles up to Canada in bed that night. "And best of all, somebody finally listened to my idea and Germany got kicked out. Don't you agree, Matt?"
Besides him, Canada just groans.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Translations:
Mon Dieu – My God
Mon cher – My dear/darling
Angleterre – England
Figlio di puttana – Son of a bitch
A/N: Roar! I have come back to life after a long time away from fanfiction writing. And publishing and editing profiles is as annoying as ever. That's awesome to know. So this is just a light, harmless fanfiction and I'm not going to really talk about/defend my happy pairings. I shall save that for stories that might be a tad more serious than this one. I know that people can be particular about what they love and hate, so hopefully if you're one of the people who absolutely cannot stand FrUk or RoChu or [insert pairing here], you were still able to (partially) enjoy this. Yay ~
As promised, I have a recommendation for people who have an eclectic taste in APH pairings. Boyue's Short Stories with Happy Endings is a compilation of fifty-one great oneshots about a variety of pairings, from the conventional America x England to the slightly less conventional Estonia x Canada. Go read: it's good!
Do a Random Act of Kindness (DoRAK – seriously, it's a real organization): Review !