So, it's been a while...did you miss me? :'D


A spread of whiteness was what Canada had been staring at for the past hour because he couldn't sleep, no matter how tired he was and no matter how hard he tried. The reason he couldn't sleep was the stupid red head sat just a barrier of wood and plaster away from him and it was honestly driving him up the wall. Scotland had kissed him and he couldn't take his mind off of that fact, it was just...captivating. Sighing, Canada turned onto his side and stared at the alarm clock - the glowing green digits reading '8:49PM' - before he sat up and untangled himself out from underneath the covers of the bed. He wasn't sleeping and he knew that.

Trudging across the room, he picked up his red hoodie and slipped it on over his head before picking up his glasses from atop the table next to his bed, messing with the metal arms a little before slipping them onto the bridge of his nose. Now able to see more than a foot in front of him, Canada stepped across the room and opened the door, looking both ways to make sure the Scotsman was out of sight before he walked into the small kitchen area of the hotel room. It was really more like a small apartment than a hotel room, Canada thought to himself as he flicked the kettle on and got the maple syrup he'd pre-stocked out of the cupboard along with a cup, his hoodie riding up slightly as he reached for said objects.

Pushing the fabric back down and leaning against the marble surface of the kitchen counter top, Canada examined his surroundings and instead of being worried about Scotland seeing him in his current state, he worried about where the Scotsman was in the first place. He dismissed the line of thought as the kettle flicked and he turned to pour the hot water into the cup, opting to the fact that he'd probably left him to go to his own room despite what Canada had said. He tipped some coffee into the cup, that was right...Scotland had probably grown bored of him and gone off to go find someone more interesting, because (all in all) Canada was a rather unentertaining and rather boring person to be around.

Canada slipped as he was pouring maple syrup into the cup, slender arms working their way around his waist and a chin resting itself on his shoulder, a gentle breathing in his ear and a smirk felt on his skin. Well, maybe he hadn't left after all.

"Ye 'ave lovely legs, did ye ken tha'?" the voice murmured softly against his neck and Canada shivered, the blush on his face darkening as Scotland slid a finger up his inner thigh slowly. Canada shaved his legs, not because he was girly, because he didn't like the sensation of hair on his legs.

"Lovely body," this was emphasised with a soft squeeze of the arm wrapped around his waist, "Lovely hair," a nuzzle to the back of his head, "An' most of aul, lovely arse~"

Canada squeaked and blushed darker, jumping slightly as Scotland groped his backside lightly, "D-don't do that..." he managed to stutter out and he could feel the other grin against his neck.

"An' whit if a don'?" the red head asked, the hand that had groped the other returning to his slender waist, the finger on his thigh having turned to a hand as his body pressed against him from behind.

And Canada hand no idea what to say because he wanted Scotland to keep touching him like this, needed him to keep touching him like this. He craved the contact and he wanted the electricity of the touches to continue...but he couldn't voice this. Too polite to be dirty and too shy to speak his ideas. Too unnoticeable and withdrawn. But Scotland didn't mind as that hand slid further up the Canadian's thigh, up over the front of the underwear - causing Canada to gasp sharply and bite down on his lip - and began to play with the waistband, tickling the other's stomach unintentionally.

Scotland let that hand continue to do that and he began kissing the other's neck, biting down lightly and sucking in places, carrying on eagerly as Canada's breath hitched in his throat or whenever he voiced a soft and withheld moan. The Canadian himself was blushing dark, his hand now holding the wrist of the one meddling with his waistband, holding it in case it decided to delve into them - his other hand was held up near his chest, clenched into a light fist as he bit down on his lip hard, trying to supress the moans, inwardly scolding himself as he arched back against Scotland. Of course, Canada was steadily failing himself as the grip holding back the hand slowly loosened and his soft moans at the other kissing and biting at his neck became slightly louder and more frequent.

Then the hand slipped into his underwear.

The gasp that escaped the Canadian's lips was soft and hitched in his throat slightly as the fingers began to stroke lightly across his length in long, light touches. His back arched against Scotland again and his hand was only holding the wrist then for the sake of having something to hold onto, flowing with the other's motions and movements and even prompting them at times. The touches continued for a while before the hand loosely wrapped around Canada's length, slowly sliding up and down from shaft to tip in loose, gliding motions.

Moans escaped Canada's lips that usually wouldn't as the hand tightened and the blush across his face darkened, his eyes squeezing shut and his hips holding back from the temptation to buck forwards in time to the pumping movements. After a couple of minutes, the grip slowly getting tighter and the pace slowly getting faster, the Canadian's moans having slowly gotten louder and more frequent, Canada felt warmth pool in the bottom of his stomach; arching against Scotland as he released his seed into the fabric of his boxers.

And Canada lay there for a while, panting, back raised slightly off the bed and the name "Alastair" fresh on the tip of his tongue. He squinted slightly - the alarm clock next to his bed now flashing a mocking "6:37AM" as light pooled in from the window through the white curtains that left him unprotected from the early sun's deadly glare - and groaned as he let his back fall onto the bed, his spoilt underwear falling with his hip, wet and warm against his groin. Canada slipped out of bed and pushed them off, cleaning off himself with them before frowning and chucking them off to the side and standing to rummage through his suitcase for a new pair.

Well...maybe he had slept after all.


Well, I hope I mindfucked every single one of you just then.

Yep, cute little innocent Canada just had a wet dream -pets- poor him~ ah well~

Hope you enjoyed the chapter after so long without updates~