Inspired: Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men

Little Talks

Canada sat on the staircase and listened to the house moan and creak. It was an old house, and that was one of the reasons he bought it, but sometimes the rasping and screeching frightened him.

Sometimes, when he was alone.

Sometimes, such as now.

Prussia used to tell him that the house was whispering lullabies, telling him to close his eyes and go to sleep. The house had not seemed so scary then.

But then Prussia had disappeared. And now he could not sleep.

Canada fiddled with the worn sleeves of his oversized sweater and listened to the dripping faucet and the clanging pipes and the rattling boiler. It was a symphony of midnight music.

He knew that Prussia was still alive, he could feel it, but he had no idea where he was. The other nation had simply vanished, without a word. He had been there at bedtime and gone in the morning and Canada was worried sick.

And when he got a hold of him… Well, Prussia would pay for worrying him…

He could see the porchlight flickering from his perch. He left it on in case Prussia came stumbling home. The trees outside the window swayed and danced in the whistling wind, scraping against the side of the house and adding to the music.

Kumajirou snuffled in their bedroom and curled deeper into the blankets. Gilbird cheeped sleepily and readjusted on top of his head.

Canada leaned backwards and let the stairs dig into his back. The slight pain was grounding.

He missed him. He missed him so much.

He kept imagining that Prussia would show up on the doorstep with a bashful smile and apologies on his lips. He kept picturing their reunion.

But weeks became months and he was starting to lose hope. What if Prussia had abandoned him? Worse, what if he was hurt and trapped somewhere? The possibilities were endless and a burning fuel for that pessimistic little voice whispering in his ear.

He looked out the window and pretended that he could see Prussia staggering up the path. He pretended that he could see him raising his hand to knock before reaching for the doorbell instead.

But it was just pretend.

Ding Dong!

Canada slipped down the staircase in surprise, landing in a heap at the bottom. He stared at the door.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

He leapt up and ran down the corridor, wrenching the door open on a bashful smile, just like he had imagined. Prussia was covered in bandages and peppered with scratches. His jeans were torn and he was missing a shoe.

He raised a hand in greeting, opening his mouth to offer some excuse, and Canada punched him in the stomach. Hard.

"Unf!"

"You asshole!"

"I know, I mean…"

"You son of a bitch!"

"Look, Matthew, I can explain everything!"

"You… You… How could you?!" Canada waved his hands over his head. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you call?"

"I…"

Canada reached for his collar and tugged Prussia upright. He pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. Prussia kissed back, just as desperate, and he had to wonder where he had been and what he had done to merit the plethora of injuries.

"You stupid, wonderful man…" Canada touched their foreheads together and breathed in his scent. He was a bit pungent and unwashed, but under that he smelt of fire and spices, just like he always did.

He was home.

Home.

All of a sudden it was a home and not a house. The groaning floorboards and ticking appliances sounded comforting instead of frightening. The trees outside seemed pleasant instead of menacing.

"Whoops," Prussia sighed, his breathe ghosting across his skin.

"'Whoops' is right, you bastard."

Canada pulled Prussia into their home. He would wrap him up in a blanket and make him a cup of tea and demand to know where he had been.

But somehow, it did not matter so much anymore.

He was home, and that was what mattered.

Author's Notes:

This piece was requested by Kneoria as well as by a guest. I bet you thought it was going to be sad again. It's not, really. Although, Prussia is going to have some explaining to do… What else is new?

I wonder where he went?

I was surprised, from the last chapter, that there are some people that have never been 'Rick Rolled". Really? Then why have I been rolled multiple times? Bah!