Matthew opened the front door enthusiastically. "I'm home!" he called.
"In the kitchen!" Katyusha answered. Matthew hung up his winter coat in the closet and deposited his briefcase in the home office on the second floor before trotting to the kitchen, unbuttoning his suit jacket and loosening his vibrant orange tie. He walked around the kitchen table, sliding an arm around Katyusha's shoulder. She turned her head up for a quick kiss and turned back to her laptop screen. Her rings glimmered as she continued to type.
"What are you working on?" Matthew asked. He opened the cupboards and looked around for the tin labelled "corn" in Ukrainian.
"Big private project. We're unveiling it soon. I'll tell you more about it later," she said. She folded the laptop and went to stow it in the office. Matthew found the tin of corn, marked with a cheeky little post-it note saying "corn" in English. A little smiling face had been added to the bottom right corner, indicating the jesting mood she had been in when he had left the house.
He found a can opener in one of the kitchen drawers and used it to open the tin of corn, pausing only long enough to find a large glass bowl to pour the corn into before setting it in the microwave and moving on to the oven to remove the ribs. Katyusha walked in a set the time on the microwave, turning to the cabinets to fetch plates and cutlery.
When supper was served Matthew and Katyusha sat down together and tucked into the ribs and corn and leftover mashed potatoes, all typical fare when Matthew chose the supper menu.
"So," began Matthew, "how was your day, Mrs. Williams?"
"I was fine," Katyusha answered. "A little boring, but it's nice to have a quiet day sometimes. And how was your day, Mr. Braginskaya?"
"Lost some papers and spent the next two hours looking for them," Matthew admitted. He turned to his mashed potatoes and began devouring them to disguise a bashful blush.
"Were they on your desk?" Katyusha prodded. Matthew nodded briefly and gave up disguising his mild embarrassment. "I know you too well," she teased, before adding, "and you also left your latest negotiations with Brazil in my office again."
Matthew swallowed loudly. "Sorry, you were just so cute this morning, in your bathrobe and slippers and bedhead. I—"
"Got distracted," Katyusha finished. "I left the folder with your other papers." There was a second of silence where neither moved. "I didn't look," she added, so softly that Matthew nearly missed it. He nodded very briefly to acknowledge the statement and they completed their meal in silence.
Katyusha took washing duty and Matthew went upstairs to tidy the home office, taking all his papers and scribbles and tucking them into a folder, which was set into a briefcase and then into a suitcase. When he was done he strolled back down to the kitchen, where Katyusha was finishing the dishes. He hugged her from behind, kissing her shoulder and playfully nibbling on a tiny bit of the fabric of her shirt.
"Mr. Braginskaya," Katyusha began, her tone scolding but her posture receptive, "any attempts to have a baby will not be successful until next week at least."
"Mmm, but I've heard the process of making a baby can be difficult to master, Mrs. Williams. Maybe we should get some practice in." To emphasise the point he licked the spot behind her ear and then placed a meltingly soft kiss there. Katyusha turned in his arms and gripped Matthew's loose necktie, which he had left on specifically for this purpose.
With a devilish smile and the words "we will have to practice a great deal to be masters" she lead him slowly to the bedroom.
-:-
Canada awoke the next morning with Ukraine's hair in his mouth, her ankle pressed very uncomfortably under his shin, and one of her breasts in his right hand. He was warm and mostly comfortable (he moved his leg, pulled the hair from his sticky mouth, and began to very gently massage the breast in his hand) and considered the previous night. It was thoroughly laughable and more than a little pathetic from an outside perspective, shaking up their romantic life by pretending to be living a plain domestic life and having very pleasant, loving vanilla sex in the missionary position for the purpose of procreation.
Ukraine shifted in his arms and moaned, probably caught in an erotic dream judging by the sound, so Canada continued to massage her breast and reached under her body with his left hand to take hold of her left hand. The wedding band on his hand clinked against hers as his palm pressed gently to the back of her hand, curled up in front of her face. The engagement ring he had given her for her birthday ten years ago pressed into the tender inside of his knuckle and it struck him that this was the first time Ukraine had worn the ring on its intended finger.
With a soft, miserable sigh Canada pulled Ukraine as close as he could, the tightness of his hold just short of painful.
He was not home.
She would not tell him more about her big private project later.
He was not Matthew Braginskaya-Williams and she was not Katyusha Braginskaya-Williams.
There would not be a baby, not next week and not ever, no matter how much they "practiced".
Canada wanted nothing more than to introduce Ukraine to his boss not as "an old friend", but as "my wife".
Ukraine stirred and yawned. "Canada?" she murmured. Her voice was gently and heartbreakingly sad as she eased the wedding band off of his finger. He kissed the back of her head softly. "Let's not do that again."
Notes: A fill for the Hetalia Kink Meme, for a request asking for two nations madly in love being unable to marry because of their nation status, and hating this fact with much angst.