Dedicated to LadyAxis who converted me to Dencanism. I love you dear, but you have to take responsibility!
Also Denmark calls Canada his 'wife' because they are married thanks to the Hans Island debacle. This is LadyAxis' headcanon and while it was adopted by mine Denmark and Canada's interactions do change.

I do not Own APH. If I did you would have known by now.

I hope all of you enjoy it.

Summary: One evening Canada confesses a secret that breaks his husband's dream of a 'pure little Vinland in marriage'. Romance crack

Who was it?
 A Denmark/Canada fanfiction

0-0-0

"Who was it? The voice shrieked through the hotel room, a tall broad figure jumping out of the bed grabbing his axe. The blond male on the bed sighed.

It had started so well. Denmark had approached him after the meeting sliding a hand on his small back, under his clothes and whispered to his ear "your skin is cool, maybe you need some warmth?" with that thick accent of his sending shivers down his spine making the other chuckle one he felt the tremors. So they left for their rooms like two teenagers in heat (In retrospective, the Dane was an awful influence on him) and emboldened by their actions Canada decided to confess one of his most intimate secrets:

He was not a virgin when they married.

Way to ruin an evening Canada. Ten out of Ten, England would be proud.

"Denmark I don't believe it truly is impor-"
"It was America wasn't it!" by the look of disgust on his new wife's face Denmark felt relieved. So the rumors of the north American twins fucking were a lie. Good, good. He wouldn't have to axe Matthew's neighbour. But it still didn't quell his anger, someone had touched his wife before him. Was it France? England? Holland? He would bath the tulips the other male held so dear with his own blood! He would dye white tulips red with the blood seeping through his severed head and then Matthias would give them to his wife as a present: a warning for him and everyone else.

"Who was it wife!" The Dane glared at him turning around, a hard grip on his battle axe and revealing that the engorged Copenhagen was harder than before. Precum leaking and his head in front of Canada who bit his lower lip.

My husband, what kind of bloody demise are you thinking for making you so hard. Such a bloodthirsty husband I've gotten eh? You pervert

Copenhagen was beautiful, sure it was pretty average (then again everything was pretty average compared to him or Russia. Especially Russia) but the width made him squirm. His husband was the perfect length to reach his prostate, and it deliciously stretched him to the point of whining. He did not just feel his entire partner, he was opened to feel him, every rough thrust, every vein and wrinkle on it, and when they ended he was sore, but empty with his body pleading to be filled again. And now with that cock in front of him his throat spasmed in delight -an automatic reaction- and he didn't want anything else than to stick it inside, taste his flavor and breath in his scent.

But he couldn't, and so he was pissed.

"don't 'wife' or shout at me eh! Whichever liaisons I had before this marriage are my business not-"
"You are my wife! You were supposed to arrive pure to-"
"As if! It's not Like you are pure either!"
But the older male kept quiet, a pale blush conquering his face and the Canadian stared in horror and disbelief.
"N- No way... mon cher mari vous êtes...?" but he could not end that sentence, the turbulent emotions inside that cyan gaze was enough to shut him up. The Canadian sighed passing a hand through his hair feeling for the first time utterly humiliated and dirty.
"don't turn around" the bark of his voice was an absolute command and the Canadian stopped. His body limp against the headboard hand still on his hair.

"Don't ever turn your back to me" he whispered hoarsely, a broad calloused hand taking his chin, forcing those shining violets to look at him. Only at him. Matthew had trusted him enough to confide something like that. But the Dane -as much as it hurt him- wasn't feeling generous tonight.

He had always thought his young berserker was safe and pure in the new world. Being colonized on his young days prevented-

No. Not his little Vinland.

"Was it consensual?" he snarled the question burning his voice as he took the younger nation by his shoulders shaking him.

"Eh?" Canada winced disoriented by the shake, his shoulders hurting from the vice grip "mari that hurts"

"Were you raped damnit?" he shouted, his own dark memories eating him out. It was an option. If he had been quiet about it until now, then... Why had he thought things in the new world had been different than those from Europe? They were nations after all, and Canada had been too young when he was colonized and fought over: he didn't stand a chance. But to do that to a child, that was unforgivable!

Canada however just blinked understanding dawning on him and he smiled pecking his husband's frown. "I- it's better if I explain it from the beginning. could you please let me go?" the only answer was a stubborn squeeze on his shoulders. Sighing he made himself as comfortable as he could get before starting.

"I was alone since the beginning. At first I didn't realize it but after you guys came and left I felt extremely lonely. I knew I had another one like me south, but he didn't like my winters at all so we never saw each other. Then France came, he did what he pleased and left, and so it happened again with Holland, and then, finally, France passed me over to England. It was the first time I saw Alfred." he smiled wryly at the memories "it didn't go so well at first, but I was adjusting and felt like we could be a family but.. one day were were playing and hiding from England's horrible food and the next the American Revolution was happening." the pressure on his shoulders left, instead they wrapped around his middle a faint squeeze urging him to continue "after Alfred left England did so as well, I was still his colony but Arthur was an ocean away and after 1812 Alfred and I weren't so close."

"So who was it?" Well his little berserker wasn't taken against his will. that was good at least.

The Canadian blushed scarlet mumbling something akin to "There has always been someone who has been by my side..."

"You let your bear fuck you?"

and so the heart-to-heart evening ended.

(with a vicious snarl "You sick hoser!", a mean pillow smack against a Nordic head and a crazy laughter before the older tackled the younger to the bed and held him like a teddy bear for the night)

(if you ask. Matthias didn't have any that evening. Which was ok, since, for once, he was not in the mood)

0-0-0

Matthias had completely forgotten that conversation until now. It was December and one of the worst winters (on his point of view, his little 'wife' didn't seem fazed by the heaps of snow) of the decade. Early that day Matthew had been tidying his backyard and first floor and when asked he just said a 'special guest' would arrive. Matthias hoped it wasn't America. If he ever heard another "atomic bomb" threat he was going to behead the brat.

He had never thought it could be him. Wasn't he supposed to only be in Russia anyway?

But the man with frozen skin and black furry coat who was sitting by the garden table chatting amiably with his wife was real. Just like the affection they had for each other, and Denmark hated it.

he felt his bile boil when the man patted his wife's head and felt it explode when the nation gave the folklore character the sweetest of smiles (he had never given him something near that. Only when he had been little Vinland, and even then just to Norway and Iceland. Never him). That's why he refused to come when his wife beckoned him, inviting him to go to a walk with them. That's why he relished in the pain and confusion of hat violet gaze. He opened his mouth to poke on the wound a bit more, let him feel the anger and raw emotions he was feeling and-

"Da" the general said, black endless eyes fixing on him for a few seconds before patting his wife's shoulder lightly a signal for them to leave.

That's when Denmark understood.

Matthew had lost his virginity to the only one who had ever been with him because of the chronic loneliness he suffered. Had Denmark been there (had the little brat not fought back after a simple mistake on his part) Matthew wouldn't have done it. Wouldn't have seek warmth and love within the freezing embrace of winter.

But Denmark was here now (even if the political reason of their marriage was superficial, and even if their relationship was still sorting itself) Canada needed to understand it.

"Wait" he shouted

Denmark did always love exercise. Maybe after the walk he could take the soaking clothes off his wife in the kitchen. They still hadn't christened that counter.