Title: Love is a Thing to Become and Eternally Be
Rating: M. And it's not just for swearing.
Pairings: America/Canada/America
Warnings: Uh, sex between male nations (though honestly, if you're reading Hetalia fanfic you cannot be surprised), some violence and slight historical liberties in places.
Disclaimer: Standard and not actually useful disclaimer goes here.
Author's Notes: De-anon from the kink meme, no doubt a few people recognize this. I'll slowly post edited chapters here, once a week or so. I won't give a schedual, I'll never follow it.
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It starts, not in at a summit, but during a meeting with the EU. And it does not start with Francis.
"So, like, has anyone slept with America?" Poland, ever considerate, throws the question out there with almost no preamble the minute there is a lull in the conversation. The various nations of Europe sit there stunned for a moment before someone speaks up. This time it is Francis.
The Frenchman shakes his head ruefully, leaning back in his chair, "well, I have not, sadly, but I assume rosbif did something to him has a child."
Arthur balks, looking beyond offended, "I did not such thing! And who do you think you're trying to fool you pervert, surely you did something during that blasted Revolution!" The Englishman's eyebrows are drawn together, his face red.
Francis just shakes his head again, "Non. You think he was interested? Gilbert always had him so exhausted he was prone to dropping to sleep before he reached his tent."
This, naturally, causes more than one eyebrow to go up, and poor Prussia isn't around to defend himself. "So America has slept with Prussia?" The looks on both Francis' and Arthur's faces are ones off growing horror.
Spain, who has been busy fending off Lovino until that moment speaks up "no way, Gilbert was still upset about Brandenburg, do you not remember?" Francis does, he has a very long memory after all, but he also remembers something else entirely.
"What about you, Antoine, you spent a few years in the south did you not, mon ami?"
Antonio only grins brightly, "oh no no, I only have eyes for my Lovi!" Lovino, ever reliable, responds by trying to stab him with a pen. Francis, satisfied with the answer goes silent, as do the rest of those in the room, until Poland speaks up again.
"So, like, no one has, like, ever, ya know, done it with America?" There is a chorus of "no"s, "I haven't"s and one "Nyet, he has refused to become one with Russia." An oddly silent Germany just sighs.
"Meeting adjourned," he tells the room sourly, there is simply no getting anyone's attention once virgins are mentioned, it has always been thus and most likely always will. The nations almost leap to their feet before their sense of decorum sets in and they gladly shuffle out of the room until only Poland and the blushing nation next to him remain.
"I so totally told you Liet." Poland says, popping a piece of gum into his mouth, "it isn't like, you, America is like, a total virgin!" Lithuania just blushed more.
As is usually the case with conversations regarding a nation's sex life, the gossip spread like the plague throughout the non-EU nations. It was soon revealed that no one had slept with America, not even Japan who had been, several people thought, a shoe in.
As is also the case with such conversations, the nations are careful to make sure no word of it reached America's ears, and they completely and totally forget to ask Canada anyway. Which is probably for the best, because anything which reaches Matthew's ears will be heard by Alfred. That is simply the way it had always been.
While the good nations of the world are gossipping with more enthusiasm than a housewife who hadn't been ale to look over her fence in three weeks, Matthew is fast asleep, and Alfred is, surprisingly enough, awake. The more southern nation was not and never has been the type to ponder deep philosophical questions, such as the meaning of life and how the hell he has managed to get so lucky. He is lucky, yes, but it had always, on some level, been he and Matt. A revolution and a war hadn't managed to change that.
So, instead of thinking deep thoughts on the nature of his relationship, Alfred F. Jones is thinking about how his boyfriend is really hot, and whether the benefits of waking him outweigh the disadvantages.
Fortunately, the option is taken away from him when the other blond opened one eye. "Al," Matthew sounds sleepy, understandable as it is three in the morning, "'s somthin' wrong?" Seeing that Matthew is precariously teetering on the edge of sleep again Alfred just chuckles, before laying back down, arms wrapped around his boyfriend's waist.
"Nah," he says easily, "go back to sleep." Matt's only response is to turn around so his back was against Alfred's chest. Alfred grins, the urge to sleep taking over again. Ever since they were kids the two had slept like this, or at least in some other, similarly tangled together way. Alfred mentioned it in passing once and Matt had only shrugged and with a grin said, "geography".