Title: Jealousy and Cheeky Grins
Summary: Canada was used to losing attention of others to his brother. But there was one person he didn't want to lose to America. Will Australia be able to put his mind at ease?
Pairing/s: Canada/Australia, minor (small, insignificant hints of) America/England
Disclaimer: Don't own anything
Warnings: None
AN: Another oneshot of these two. So rare, but so adorable. I hope you enjoy!
Canada tried not to become resentful, to become jealous of his brother. America liked being the centre of attention. He was good at getting it. Canada had long gotten used to being pushed aside (unintentionally, for the most part) by his twin brother.
It started young, when they were being raised by England. Canada learnt at an early age that America needed constant attention, especially from England. Nothing wrong with that. Everyone, at some point, craved attention, while others relished in solitude. And Canada truly did like being on his own, doing his own things, at his own pace.
But there was one thing he couldn't help but seethe about. There was one person he did not like (at all) to be giving America attention. Especially when he was in the same place. In the same room nonetheless.
Oh sure, he was used to being ignored while attending world meetings. But it didn't mean he liked it.
"Com'on, Mate," a distinctly Australian accent urged.
Canada couldn't help but passively glare at the two from the corner of his eye. Australia was standing in front of America, a plate in one hand, the other on his hip in a defiant way. His pet Koala (whose name was Bruce, unremarkably) was sitting on his shoulder, as usual, giving America those angry red eyes.
"It's just one little sandwich," Australia said as he pushed the plate into America's chest, letting it go when America (reluctantly) took a hold of it. "Stop being a pansy."
America's face paled considerably as a moment of silence fell between them.
"D-dude, isn't it, like, totally illegal to have something like this?" America questioned as he looked down at the small plate in his hands, one seemingly innocent sandwich in the middle.
"Are you scared?" Australia asked him, his head tilted to the side in curiosity.
"No way, dude!"
"Good. Because it would be really depressing if the mighty, strong America was afraid of a Vegemite sandwich."
"Of course not," America said as he puffed out his chest. "How could I be scared of this? I eat England's cooking, after all."
There was a very telling and distinct 'Bloody Git!' shouted from somewhere, but Canada didn't really pay attention. He was too busy inertly seething about how close America and Australia appeared to be.
"Besides, isn't it the same as Marmite?" America dared to ask.
"Marmite?" Australia scoffed, sounding downright offended as he folded his arms over his chest. "That's just a cheap pommy knockoff. Vegemite is the real deal."
"…It still looks like tar…"
"And you still look like a pansy."
"I just don't see how eating a sandwich is a rite of passage, you know," America began to ramble, buying himself some time. "I mean, dude, it's just a little sandwich. Shouldn't it be, like, totally wrestling crocodiles or something?"
Sometime during America's bubbling, Australia had casually picked up one triangle of the sandwich – and abruptly shoved it into America's gaping mouth. Instinctively, America chewed on the slice a couple of times before swallowing.
Then his reaction. He became very still, his face becoming ghostly white. His eyes were probably glazed over, but they were hidden behind his glasses that had inexplicably caught the light in an ominous way.
There was a moment of drawn out silence before he…screamed.
"IT BURNS!"
The flailing of limbs, the squawking of incoherent words, the awkward dash for the exit (while colliding with everyone and everything in the way) promptly followed suit. A typical reaction. One that made Australia buckle over, clutching his stomach, as he laughed.
"Onya mate!" Australia yelled after him as the other nations looked either amused or sympathetic.
"Australia, would you stop picking on America?" England asked him, rather tersely.
"You should be thanking me," Australia said as he flashed England his trademark cheeky grin. "You now have an excuse to fuss over him."
England promptly blushed deeply and bristled. He tried to splutter some kind of scathing retort (something along the lines of "Who would want to fuss over that ungrateful bastard?!") but all he managed was a shaky 'shut up!' before he made a quick and hasty exit. In the same direction America fled in.
Again, Australia simply laughed that loud, but good-natured laugh of his. He then turned on his heel and began to walk over to where Canada was sitting, all on his own, on the two-seater couch.
"Hey, Canada," Australia said to him cheerfully as he bent forward to his eyelevel. "Did you see your brother's reaction?"
Canada made no attempt to verbally reply. He was feeling uncharacteristically annoyed. So, without any warning, he snared Australia by the wrist and pulled him toward him. Bruce tumbled off Australia's shoulder as Australia fell onto Canada's lap, making a little grunting noise from the unexpected movement.
There were a couple of soft coos from a few of the others nations as Australia wiggled around in Canada's grip, stilling when he realised that Canada wasn't going to be letting him go. With his legs draped across Canada's lap, his back pushed up into the corner of the seat Australia looked up at Canada in mild surprise.
Canada had to admit to himself that he was slightly surprised by his reaction as well. Still…It was normal, right? Doing something like this was ok since they were dating after all.
A look of concern flickered across Australia's face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Canada replied grumpily.
Australia looked at him with an expression of scepticism before he unexpectedly poked Canada on his brow, between his eyes. "These frown wrinkles say otherwise," he said plainly.
Canada lifted his eyebrows to smooth the lines of his forehead and shrugged awkwardly as he kept his arms around Australia in a somewhat possessive hold.
"We're not England and America, Mattie," Australia said as he removed his fingers from Canada's forehead to instead pinch his cheek with his index finger and thumb. "We're not going to keep resentments inside, only to boil over when we're drunk."
He had a point.
Canada turned his head slightly, relinquishing Australia's grip on his cheek and muttered; "I just don't like it when you give America attention, that's all."
There, he said it.
"Mate..." Australia said slowly as his hand hovered in mid-air, unsure what to do. "Are you jealous?"
Of course not. He was simply annoyed.
"What for?" Australia asked him, still half on the couch, half on Canada's lap. And made no attempt to move.
Canada pressed his lips together into a thin line. He wasn't entire sure how to answer that. It wasn't like he was actually jealous or anything. There wasn't anything to be jealous about, really. He and Australia had been a couple for a few years now. And Australia wasn't the type to get bored easily and wander off. Whenever he engaged in something it was for the long-haul.
But…he had that small, childish fear that America could steal away Australia's attention from him. Like he did with England all those years ago.
It was a ridiculous fear. It was obvious that America was still trying to gain England's complete attention. And it was obvious that England was more than willing to give him that attention.
It was stupid.
"I just don't like you doing things with America and not me," Canada finally admitted.
"Of course I would do things with America that I wouldn't do to you," Australia scoffed.
"Why?" Canada pouted. He didn't want him to actually admit it.
"You want me to throw Bruce at your head at random times?" Australia asked him, a mischievous and carefree grin on his lips, the said koala sitting on the back of the couch, expertly ignoring the two. "How about waking up with an Echidna as a bed partner?"
Well…no, not really. Not at all, actually.
"How about you let me up and I'll make you a Vegemite sandwich?"
"That won't be necessary," Canada replied quickly, swiftly tightening his hold around Australia.
That lopsided grin stayed on Australia's lips as he shook his head in mild amusement. He always found it ungodly funny that so many people were afraid of Vegemite while he had it for breakfast most mornings.
And to be honest, it wasn't that bad. It had a…unique taste, but it was tolerable in small amounts. It was just…whenever Australia threatened to make a Vegemite sandwich for someone; he purposely spread on a thick layer. Just so he could see their expression – which was either a gurgling scream before a mad dash to the toilet, or a silent gagging before promptly passing out in a dead faint for a minute or two.
"I don't do those things to you. You know why?"
Australia reached up with his hands, placing his hands on either side of Canada's face and pulled his head down toward his. Canada blinked, surprised, but didn't attempt to pull away as Australia looked him steadily in the eyes.
"Because I love you," Australia told him bluntly and sincerely. "I wouldn't do anything to upset you."
Canada instantly smiled. Australia's blatant honesty was always refreshing.
"I play pranks on him, he plays pranks on me," Australia continued to speak, keeping his hands on Canada's face. "That's all there is. That doesn't even come close to the attention I give to you."
That was true. Now that Canada thought about it, America and Australia had this sort of rivalry going on. A lot of pranks. A lot of dares. A lot of light-hearted ribbing and tormenting. Canada wasn't really into that sort of thing. He had nothing against it; he just wasn't good at that kind of thing.
"There is nothing more amusing to an Aussie than picking on an American," Australia grinned. "Well, maybe beating that Pommy bastard at anything, but you know what I mean."
Canada felt himself relaxing, although he did feel kinda silly for the way he acted.
"Besides, there are things I do with you that I wouldn't even consider doing with anyone else," Australia added, a light dusting of red across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
Canada instantly knew what he meant, leaning forward to kiss him to prove it.
And he was going to do his darnedest to keep it that way.
AN: Please comment~