BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Canada groaned and rolled over, blindly smacking at his alarm clock. When the beeping continued, he grudgingly opened his blurry eyes so he could press the 'OFF' button. I thought I didn't set my alarm last night, he thought groggily. Confused that the beeping had not stopped, he glanced at the glowing red numbers to see that it was almost 3:30pm in the afternoon. Jolting upright in bed, he fumbled around for his glasses, dropping them on the floor before finally succeeding in putting them on along with a pair of sweatpants.
Still hearing the beeping, he got quickly out of bed and went over to the window. Blinking against the harsh sunlight as he tied the drapes apart, Canada looked out and saw a beautiful day. The sky was a bright blue with a speckling of fluffy white clouds and the trees were swaying gently to an invisible breeze as birds flew from one to the other. He smiled and opened the window, letting the warm air blow across his exposed skin. He turned back to his room, determined to find the source of that annoying beeping.
Rummaging around on the floor through his dirty clothes, he located a pair of pants and reached into one of the pockets, pulling out a watch. The time screen kept flickering and lighting up green in time with the beeping. Flipping the alarm off, the Canadian stared at the object in confusion.
Why did I set the alarm on my watch? He shook his head and stood up, walking out of his room and into the rest of the house. He went into the kitchen and spotted a calendar hanging on the wall next to the pantry. Looking at the date, his eyes widened. It was July 1st. It's my birthday! he thought in surprise, facepalming. How could I have forgotten? He looked down into the little date square, seeing his own handwriting.
HAPPY BIRHTDAY CANADA!
Go help out seniors today at 4:00!
Also, don't forget to pick up Kumajiro some more food and some wine for tonight!
-Me
Canada glanced down at the watch still in his hand. 3:37pm. His heart jumped and he ran back to his bedroom. Now he knew why he'd set the alarm on his watch. He only had a little over 20 minutes to get ready and go all the way into Toronto to help out at a new senior center. He knew that even though he'd sent out invitations for his birthday that no one would come—just like it was every year. Since he didn't feel like sitting at home and sulking all day as he used to in past years, he decided to volunteer to help the seniors get situated in their new nursing home.
Though, this year he'd sent out a card to Russia because they had recently starting 'dating' a few months ago, much to the rage and shock of his brother. He didn't know how it happened, except that one day suddenly he found himself in love with spending time with the taller country. He loved his smile, his hair, his scent—though that was usually vodka. His chest began to grow warm and Canada smiled as he buttoned up his dress shirt. Thoughts of the Russian always made him happy and he wished that the man would remember that today was his birthday. He wasn't going to get his hopes up, though. He knew better from experience.
After he finished putting on his dress pants and shoes and straightening his tie, Canada went into the bathroom real quick to fix his hair and brush his teeth. He glanced down at his watch that he was apparently now wearing and he froze. 3:56pm. He grabbed his jacket, said goodbye to a still sleeping Kumajiro—who just raised his sleepy head before curling back up into a ball again—and ran out the door.
The day outside felt as nice as it looked as Canada walked over to his new red Chevrolet Volt that America had given him a couple weeks ago. It felt really warm out so the Canadian ditched his jacket in the backseat and slipped in his car, shutting the door and starting it up. It still had that new car smell and when he turned the key the engine roared to life with a lovely purr.
Flipping the AC on full blast and turning the radio on, Canada pulled carefully out of his driveway and down the street, heading for the highway. He switched it to his favorite station and he heard the host speaking.
"Helloooooooo, Toronto! It's turning out to be a beautiful Independence Day out there this afternoon, with the temperature at a scorching 87 degrees out there today. Bright sunshine for the rest of the day with a chance of rain sometime late in the night and temperatures getting down into about mid-60's. Wonderful day, lots of activities going on around Toronto this afternoon, like the family picnic down at . . ."
Canada smiled as he listened to all the events going on. Even though other countries never remembered his birthday, he was happy that his people would never forget. Today was one of the biggest celebrations of the year, besides Christmas and New Years. Everyone around the country were having parties, barbeques, picnics, hanging with friends and family, setting up fireworks for later that night and playing sports like football and—of course—hockey. Most of the time kids would just be outside in the street playing floor hockey on their roller blades while parents refereed.
Canada could feel the excitement boiling up inside him as he was filled with national pride. He listened joyfully as his anthem came up on the channel after the host was done speaking. He sang along with it as he expertly maneuvered his way through the tightly packed Toronto streets. Driving one-handed for the moment, the Canadian switched the radio over to his CDs and chose the one marked 'Songs of the World'. It was a collection of songs he'd bought online that were in various language, like Swedish, Spanish, French, German, Japanese, Russian and, of course, English. He pressed play and the first song that came up was 'King of the World' by The Porcelain and the Tramps.
Canada laughed as he remembered the first time he'd heard this song. He'd been cleaning his home while the song came on the radio and he—embarrassingly—started to dance to it. Russia, who had been staying for the night, pretty effectively scared him. He came up behind the blonde and lifted him up, swinging him around before holding him bridal style and singing the song sweetly in his ear in Russian.
He smiled as the song ended, along with the memory. They hadn't even been dating when that happened. In fact, he'd barely even known Russia for more than a week. Things progressed quickly after that, he guessed.
Pulling into the parking lot of the newly constructed senior center, Canada turned down his music and shut the Volt off. He shot out of the car and trotted over to the main doors when he seen that he was nearly 15 minutes late. As soon as he stepped into the cool air conditioned building, he was met by a friendly looking nurse with green eyes and brown hair that was wrapped tightly in a bun. She grinned at him and looked down at the clip board in her hands.
"Mr. . . Williams?" she questioned lightly. He nodded. "Alright then, you'll be working in the east wing today helping out . . . Gary Holmes and Farah Turner, ok?"
Canada nodded again as she led him down the hall to his right. "I'm sorry I'm so late," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I kinda had a late start today."
She looked back at him and smiled. "It's fine. You're actually the first one here, believe it or not. I guess the others didn't want to waste their holidays. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here, Mr. Williams."
"Please, just Mathew." She looked at him in surprise for a moment before nodding happily. "And I don't mind coming. It's my birthday today but I really don't have anything planned."
"Really? Well happy birthday, Mathew!" She said excitedly. She stopped in front of a room and stuck her hand out towards him. "You can call me Emily."
"Thanks, Emily," he replied, shaking her small hand. He was somewhat shocked that someone actually wished him a happy birthday.
The brunette pointed into the room and explained to him that the older man inside, Gary Holmes, was pretty grumpy and that he'd probably rant at him if he put anything out of place. She issued to the room next door and said that Mrs. Turner was a lot kinder but she would probably fall asleep on him on the account that she was 96. He thanked her again and she left him, off to do her own work. Canada sighed and set to work.
He spent several hours getting the seniors' rooms in order, taking longer with the angry old man because he must have made him moved the dresser 10 times and the TV 20. He did his best, though, and kept calm around the senior. He was apparently an old WW2 veteran because he would scare Canada by randomly shouting things like, "Hit the deck, son, they be creepin!" The woman was a lot easier to handle with. She was very chatty and they must have talked for over an hour as she instructed him on where to put her things. She'd asked him how old he was turning today and he told her his real age, 144.
"Oh, really?" the woman said, intrigue showing on her wrinkly face. She gave a shaky smile as he walked by with some of her clothes, patting him on the arm. "Good for you, dear. You don't look a day over 20."
That made him laugh. I love seniors, he thought as he finished up with her room. She waved him goodbye and rolled in her wheelchair over to her bed. He left and was quietly searching out Emily when his phone rang in his pocket. Hearing the familiar Russian ringtone, he grinned and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Happy birthday, Matvey~" he heard a sweet accented voice singsong. Canada could already feel the blush beginning to creep onto his cheeks and he slowed his pace down.
"Hey, Ivan."
"How's my little sunflower? Good, da?" Russia asked.
Canada giggled at the nickname and nodded, subconsciously knowing the man couldn't see him. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"
"Better now that I've heard your voice."
The Canadian's blush deepened and he felt a bit of hope stir in his chest. "So, you got my invitation, right? Am I going to see you tonight?" The line went quiet for a long time and the blonde was starting to lose his flittering hope. "Hello? Ivan?"
"I'm sorry, Matvey," he heard the Russian begin. "But huge snow storm just blew in and all flights to your house are canceled. I'm really sorry."
Canada immediately felt like a kicked puppy and tears stung in his eyes. He rubbed them away quickly, not wanting anyone to see. It's what happens every time he gets his hopes up. God, he felt useless, like a lovesick teenage girl who's just had their heart broken. He sniffled a bit then laughed, trying to lighten up. "Oh no, that's completely fine, Ivan," he said quickly, trying to deny his feelings. He wouldn't even get to see his boyfriend on his birthday—how pathetic was that? "I'm sorry for even asking, it's ok, really. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? You don't sound fine—"
"No, no, I'm good," Canada insisted, not wanting to worry him. He hesitated slightly before asking, "Can I call you later?"
"Of course," Russia said, slightly surprised. "You can talk to me all you want later, Matvey."
"Ok. Talk to you later then."
"Goodbye, Matvey," Russia said sadly before hanging up.
Canada struggled to hold back more tears as he flipped his phone shut, returning it to his pocket. He quickly wiped them away when he saw Emily walking down the hallway towards him. She stopped short though, concern showing on her face. "Is everything alright, Matthew?" she asked carefully.
He placed a bright smile on his face, pushing his worries away for the moment. Why should he place his burdens on anyone else? "Yeah, it's just allergies, ya know," he lied, rubbing his eyes playfully. "I was just coming to find you. Is there anything else you need help with?"
The girl bought it and nodded, quickly setting them both to work. Apparently, only two other volunteers and another nurse showed up and there was just too much work for the five of them. Canada ended up spending almost another three hours at the nursing home helping with cleaning, sorting, stacking, arranging and pretty much everything else. At lunchtime, Emily was kind enough to actually go out and buy him a cupcake at a nearby bakery. She'd stuck a candle in it and sung 'Happy Birthday' to him, saying it was the least she could do for his birthday, considering she didn't have much money. He was grateful anyway and had thanked her, his spirits officially lightened for the rest of the time he was there. Saying farewell to the girl and the other workers, he finally got back into his car at around 9:45pm.
He started up his car and began to drive back into Toronto. Even though Canada's back ached from all the lifting he did he still had to go to the store and pick up Kumajiro's food. The Canadian ended up having to drive all around the huge city in order to find a store that was open this late on a holiday. He'd finally found one that was on the outskirts of Toronto and nearly 96.5 kilometers (60 miles for you Americans) from his house. It was worth it, though, as he bought his pet's special brand of food and grabbed the nicest French wine he could find. He was soon finally able to head home after that.
Canada drove home in silence, not really feeling like listening to music or flipping on the radio. His entire body was sore and as his earlier thoughts and conversation with Russia floated back in his mind, he decided that as soon as he got home he would drink himself silly and go to bed. He might've called the Russian when he got home but all it would probably do is depress him and like he needed more problems! God, I'm becoming a martyr . . .
He didn't get home until almost 11 o'clock and by then was in full depression, having already opened the bottle of wine and drank half of it. He didn't feel any different, probably because it takes a whole hell of a lot of booze to get a country drunk—and because he was part French. The blonde sighed, suddenly not wanting to get out of the car as he gathered up the wine bag and his jacket from the backseat. He slung the jacket over his shoulder once he stepped out of the car, not caring that it was slightly chilly, and collected Kumajiro's bag of food out of the trunk before heading up his porch stairs. Fumbling with his keys for a moment, he finally succeeded in unlocking his door and stepping into his dark house and shutting the door behind him. "Kuma-kun, I'm home," he called out. "Sorry that I've been gone all day, buddy. I brought you some more food." Confused that his white bear didn't immediately show up at the sound of the word 'food', Canada kicked off his shoes, set the food down and flipped the light switch on beside him.
"SURPRISE!"
Canada shrieked in alarm—nearly dropping the wine—at the sudden noise and mass of people standing in his living room. His bright blue eyes widened as he suddenly found himself being glomped by his brother.
"Ha-ha! Dude, we got you really good!" America cheered, hooking an arm around the smaller blonde's neck.
"Don't be rude, you git!" England scolded, walking over to the brothers with France. He glanced away from the American to smile at Canada, going to hug him around the man's arm.
France stepped closer and gingerly peeled America's arm off of the Canadian before enveloping him in a tight hug also. "Bienvenue à la maison, un peu ~" France cooed in his ear. Canada found himself too shocked to do anything while the Frenchman kissed his cheek lovingly.
"Dude, don't molest my brother," America said, completely unenthusiastic.
France pouted, pulling away from his beloved used-to-be son and taking the wine bag from him. "Oh come on, I can't even greet my cute, little Matthieu?"
"Pedophile," England growled.
Canada thought he was officially surprised at his 'family' showing up unexpectedly, but then something else happened. Between France and England's two arguing bodies the Canadian spotted a familiar figure walking towards him, making his heart skip a beat. His mouth fell open, new tears beginning to bud in his eyes and he was grateful that he wasn't holding the wine anymore because he was sure he would have dropped it.
Russia walked smoothly over to him and weaved his way between the two fighting countries, instantly making them stop. Stunned, Canada found himself being lifted into the man's strong arms by the waist and lips being pressed to his softly. Tears started streaming down his cheeks and he choked back a sob, pressing deeper into the kiss. He buried his face into the Russian's chest when they broke apart, Russia petting his hair.
"And you were worried about my kiss," France whispered to an equally shocked Englishman.
"С Днем Рождения, Matvey," Russia murmured sweetly, still clutching the crying Canadian to him.
"Joyeux anniversaire, Matthieu!" the Frenchman cheered, throwing his hands in the air. When Russia glanced down at him, he just shrugged innocently. "What? I said you could say it first." The Russian rolled his eyes.
"You're here," Canada croaked out. "But I thought you were snowed in."
Russia laughed. "It's July, silly. Even I don't get snowstorms this time of year, Matvey."
Canada shook his head and smiled, capturing everyone's attention. "I don't care. You're all here, really here." He couldn't get over it. They'd all came to see him for his birthday! Him! He peered over Russia's shoulder at all of them, sniffling. "I'm so, so happy."
"It was Russia's idea," England pointed out as the large nation set Canada down. He glanced over at the Canadian's other caregiver. "He and France here kind of teamed up on this one."
"Oh hon hon~!"
America set his hands down on Canada's shoulders and began to push him forcefully away from the others. "Now that you're all done touching my brother . . ." Canada laughed a little, wiping away his tears as he let the American lead him towards his back door. "Mattie, you have to go out and greet everyone else!"
"What?" The blonde looked at him in shock. "Who else is here?"
"Dude, practically the whole world is here!"
Canada stepped out onto his back porch and was met with truly a wonderful sight. Lanterns hung all around his yard on trees or wooden posts and a huge, roaring fire sat in the middle. A lovely French cuisine was displayed on a few picnic tables off to his right and a giant box of sparklers and fireworks sat off to his left. What caught his eye, though, was the mass of countries piled onto lawn chairs and logs around his yard. The Nordics and Baltics were seated together next to the fireworks with Russia's sisters and the Asian countries were next to the food. The Germans—Germany, Prussia and Austria—were seated directly across from him with Hungary, Switzerland and Liechtenstein. Italy hung onto the other side of Germany with his brother, Romano, and Spain. Everyone looked up when the Canadian walked outside.
"Hyvää syntymäpäivää, Kanada!" Finland said happily, rushing over to hug a dazed Canada. The hyper blonde broke away, keeping his hands on his shoulders.
"Th-Thank you," Canada said slowly, still in shock.
He spent several hours going around and greeting and chatting with everybody along with America and England. France and Russia had somehow disappeared completely and soon England left to go find them. Currently occupied with talking to Taiwan, the Canadian failed to notice that the crowd was beginning to thin out as some of the countries began to go back to their hotels for the night. By the time he'd sent everyone off, it was almost 2 o'clock in the morning. He stretched in exhaustion and was just about to go search for his missing 'family' when France came out with England and America.
The Frenchman came up and kissed his cheeks like earlier. "Farewell, my dear Matthieu," he said sadly, parting away so England could hug him.
"What? You guys are leaving already?" Canada asked over England's shoulder as he hugged him.
"Sorry, Mattie, but it's late. Plus, there's a surprise for you inside," America told him, hugging him extra tight. He whispered in his brother's ear, "Just be 'safe', okay? Don't let that commie hurt you-!"
"Alright, that's enough, wanker," England said, pulling the American away by the ear. America waved in despair to him as he was dragged around the side of the house by France and England. Canada waved back in confusion as they left.
I'm so happy that everyone threw a party for me, he thought happily, walking up his porch. I'm still completely overwhelmed by it all.
Stepping through the door, he was instantly met with a dark house, the soft scent of vanilla and candlelight. The entire living room was decorated with rose petals and a bouquet of sunflowers sat on the dining table. Confusion turned to awe and he jumped slightly when strong arms wrapped around his torso.
"Matvey," Russia breathed in his ear."
"Ivan?" Canada said in slight surprise. He rested his hands on the Russian's arms. "You did all this?"
Russia turned him around and placed a small kiss to the blonde's forehead. Canada immediately blushed when he saw the man wearing not his usual coat or even his scarf, but a black dress shirt and pants with a white tie hanging loosely around his neck. "Well, not all of it," the man admitted. "France helped with most of it."
Canada chuckled and reached up to hold Russia's tie. So that's why they were gone all evening. "I can tell. Papa really knows how to . . . set a mood." He laughed again when Russia nodded, a slight pink tingeing his cheeks in the dim light. The Canadian leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed the man's exposed neck, wrapping his arms around it. He pulled back to look into those wonderful violet eyes, shimmering in the candle flames. "I want to thank you, Ivan. For doing all this for me—throwing a party and everything. Getting all dolled up," he giggled. "It really, really means a lot."
Russia lifted him up into his arms for the second time that night, kissing his nose as he began walking. He strode over to the middle of the room and Canada noticed that all of his furniture had been pushed away to make room for a low bed covered in red and black silks and plushy pillows. Yep, he thought. France really knows how to do things. He made a mental note to thank him later. The Russian lowered him onto the mattress before moving to sit next to the blonde gingerly. He looked a little unsure about what to do next.
"Come here." He tugged Russia down by the tie and kissed him tenderly. "I've always wanted to do that," Canada whispered against his lips.
Russia chuckled deeply and kissed him again. "I love you, Matvey."
Canada blushed again at his words. He hugged the Russian tightly too him, making them fall back onto the bed.
Best birthday ever~