Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, I just own an unhealthy devotion to France as a nation and its history. English is not my mother language and neither is French, any constructive criticism is appreciated.
Warnings: A friend of mine, who doesn't even know what Hetalia is, shared with me a video about "How nations flirt". And nothing, I need to stop socialising. France is going to speak random French because… well, he's France.
Maple flirt
Canada decided that it had been one time too many. He was used to people ignoring or forgetting him, and he was even more used to people mistaking him for his brother. Hell, even England resorted to rely onto France to tell him apart from America, and one would hope that after all those years at least his own father would stop messing with them.
This was why Cuba mistaking him for America last time they had meet by chance and beating him up hurt so badly... Ok, maybe it wasn't such a logical connection to make since, if his own parent couldn't tell him apart from his brother, why should a complete stranger be able to do that?
Except that no matter how much Canada was attempting to keep his feelings in the realm of reason, Cuba's behaviour towards him kept stinging badly, much more than England calling him the wrong way, more than America bullying him, more than France cooing over him just because his hair looked exactly like his French father's.
Now that he allowed himself to think about it, he really should have a decent talk with his own family… No matter if the desire to confront with his family right now was, more than anything else, a way not to think about why Cuba messing with him hurt so much.
Eventually, Canada sighed and hid his face in Kumajiro's soft white fur, hoping that the only living being he could call his friend could help him out of the impasse. After he had reminded once again the polar bear who he was, though, Canada stood up from his bed and went to cook something sweet to cheer himself up.
When the pancakes were ready, he took from the cupboard his bottle of maple syrup and covered them with his favourite sugary treat. He was only halfway through eating his snack when a consideration stuck him: what if he really was too similar to America. The bite he was savouring in his mouth became too hard to swallow, therefore he filled himself a glass of milk and drained it in a single sip.
He wasn't even frigging similar to his brother… Still, could it be that the differences between the two of them were not evident enough? Maybe that was the trick: exaggerate what stood out different between the two of them!
With that thought in mind, Canada regained all the confidence he never had and got ready to meet up casually with Cuba. He was too shy to actually pop up at Cuba's or go talking with him when being in the same room, but he would certain getting ready for the day when chance would make interaction between the two of them absolutely necessary.
Cuba messing up with him hurt, and he still hadn't decided if he really was fine with his own plan.
Luckily for Canada, Cuba had noticed that he was behaving unfairly to him, and he had decided to attempt going and talk with the northern nation as soon as he could, in order to at least tell him that he was sorry and attempting to bridge the gap between the two of them. This was how Canada found himself in front of Cuba way sooner than he had expected and had to put off a resolve he didn't have not to run for his life.
"Hi, Canada. You know, I noticed I've behaved unfairly-" Cuba had begun telling Canada as soon as he had approached him during a world meeting, only to feel a deep sense of déjà vu. "Well, I already told you so, to be honest. Still, I noticed that not much changed between us, and I wanted to settle things straight with you… Canada?"
Canada, who had just frozen in panic at being talked by Cuba so abruptly and without any real chance at excruciating and unnecessarily long psychological preparation, eventually resorted to enact his plan as he had loosely imagined it, regardless of the place in which they were at the moment.
He pulled out all his reserves of maple syrup then, and emptied them all over himself, allowing the thick substance to make his clothes clinging to his body and turning his skin a soft shade of caramel. France and England stopped quarrelling between the two of them as well, to stare aghast at their son, both of them vaguely asking themselves what the heck he was up to.
The thoughts crossing Cuba's mind weren't much different from the two frenemies' ones, still, something else caught his attention, something that once he had noticed it, it was quite difficult to stop staring at it.
"Canada…. What the hell are you doing?" He asked dubiously, attempting to keep his tone of voice void of any kind of judgemental inflection.
"L-like this y-you will stop mistaking me for my brother!" Canada bellowed to him in a small voice. "Maple syrup is universally considered Canadian, right? Now you can't stop seeing me as Canada!"
"Canada, you know…" Cuba attempted to reason, despite being too much distracted by all the viscosity still dripping all over Canada, viscosity that made more evident whatever he was hiding beneath his clothes. Another thing that was quite difficult to hide, was also Cuba's appreciation for what that was currently in front of his eyes. "Your shirt. It's quite… clinging to your chest… And not just that."
"Uhm?" Canada muttered, noticing only then the way he was appearing to Cuba and to all the other nations present to the world assembly, his parents included. "Oh, my…"
Canada was starting to panic in earnest, therefore Cuba took a firm grip of the blond nation's wrist to prevent him from running away, and stared at him straight in the eyes.
"It's, you know, a very well toned chest…"
Canada's cheeks were already deep red in shame, but after hearing Cuba's words they became even redder in sheer embarrassment. Before he could find something proper to answer Cuba, though, the island nation dragged him slightly closer to him and swallowed.
"I'm not a depraved man like your parents, though." He continued, earning only Canada's confused stare on him. "If you had something to tell me, you could have just told me so."
"W-what was I supposed to tell you?" Canada found himself asking eventually, feeling completely captivated by Cuba's gaze as well as confused by the strange reaction he was getting from the island nation.
The only answer Cuba granted Canada, was a soft "Let me explain it to you better in private." whispered to his ear. Then, he took advantage of his grip on him and lead the northern nation outside, in front of the shocked stare of France and all the other nations except England, since the English nation, in the meantime, had simply fainted into his husband's caring arms after having seen 'some weirdo being overly familiar with his cute little child'.
Cuba eventually dragged Canada to the nearest bathroom, in order to get some privacy and understand what he could actually do for his companion. He was certainly feeling cold and sticky. And vulnerable, judging by the stare he was currently sporting. And Cuba was famous for helping whenever he could, wasn't he? Besides, he really wasn't like France and England, who made a firm point of putting one another in the messiest situations possible only to cling to one another the second after.
No, Cuba's main focus was supposed to be getting Canada properly cleaned from the overload of maple syrup covering him, and possibly get him out from those sticky clothes before it dried up.
Everything. Without. Second. Reasons.
Except that Cuba's lower belly seemed to have a different opinion, and the fact that they were currently alone in a bathroom made the chance even more realistic.
"Cuba?" Canada eventually asked, noticing Cuba staring highly conflicted at him.
"Y-you should get cleaned up, y-you could catch a cold." Cuba managed to stutter eventually, shame and embarrassment eating him alive. "D-do you have a change of clothes?"
"I-"Canada started to answer, before he realised that he really hadn't thought that through. Had he even planned his own plan? Now that he allowed himself to think about it, he had decided that it would have been a wonderful idea, but he had been too ashamed of his own idea to properly think about it and about how he could make it work. "I don't." He admitted, blushing heavily as he embraced his own waist and started to honestly feel the discomfort brought by his rushed decision.
Moreover, it was honestly hard not to notice Cuba staring at him, something that made him feel even less at ease with the whole situation. It also pleased him though, for some unknown reasons, and made him feel a nice pleasant warmth spreading inside his chest.
Something must have showed in his expression, though, since Cuba eventually closed the space between the two of them and reached with his hands to Canada's torso, stopping before he actually touched him.
"M-may I?" He asked, not really sure himself about what he was asking Canada.
As soon as he got a timid nod from Canada, he let a single finger cross Canada's torso for all its length, staring then with fascination at the other nation's surprised shudder and at how warm and sticky the sugary substance felt on his finger. If they were in his bedroom and not in a bathroom, he had several ideas in mind about how to properly play with a Canada drenched in syrup: suck his clothes clean, lick his fingers and neck, slowly get him naked, clean every inch of the skin beneath the clothes, reach down to-
Hell, this was bound to turn out messy, no matter how he played it. He put the finger in his mouth and really couldn't understand why Canada liked it this much. A voice in the back of his mind, unfortunately, did supply the notation that maple syrup with Canada as an aftertaste would be certainly better.
Cuba could only groan at the thought, because –and he couldn't stress this enough- he wasn't France and England! He was supposed to know better and be able to control his urges... He didn't, though, and this was why in the end he just placed both his hands over Canada's chest, teasing with purpose his nipples as he attempted to get rid of the excess of syrup over it. With his hands and not with his mouth, even though by this point he wasn't really sure about anything.
He stared deeply into Canada's violet eyes, so that he would be able to stop whenever the other nation felt uncomfortable, but all he got was a surprised intake of breath and a soft... Groan?
He repeated the movement, but as the teasing went on Canada's face just turned redder, until he resorted to place his hand over his mouth to stifle a moan.
The sound was too enthralling to risk having it muffled, therefore Cuba moved the hand away, taking his chance to entwine his sticky fingers with Canada's and leaning closer, well into Canada's personal space despite not really proceeding further even when their noses were touching and their lips only a few inches apart. Canada stared at him frightened like a scared rabbit at first, but then he just closed his eyes and offered his lips to Cuba, silently inviting him to lean closer and kiss him.
All of Cuba's restraint and good intentions to help another nation in need got crushed like a crystal vase falling to the ground and he just moved forward, claiming Canada's lips like a starving man.
Even the faint realisation that he shouldn't cling too much to Canada because he was still covered in Maple syrup and at least one of them was supposed to keep himself decent to get out the bloody establishment didn't last much. Screw the maple syrup: he was willing to let himself being attacked by hungry bears and insects of all kinds and species if that meant that he could put his hands on Canada's gorgeous body and hear once again the soft embarrassed moans he made.
They both had long hair, though, and no matter how pleasurable was having a slippery Canada writhing and moaning in his arms, he preferred having him naked or at least in a condition that didn't make him whine in discomfort afterwards.
Cuba pushed open the courtesy shower some thoughtful mind had decided to place in the bathrooms, then, and opened the water to make it turn warm. Without even bothering to interrupt the kiss and the roaming of his hands all over Canada's body, he got rid of his sandals and of Canada's shoes and glasses, and then he shoved the both of them under the water, earning a surprised whimper from the northern nation. Cuba chuckled at his reaction, and took his chance to properly get rid of the syrup now covering the both of them and –hopefully- put his hands on Canada's milky flesh.
The clothes problem was something he could always think about later.
France and England were walking down the corridor side by side, discussing about the most annoying things they had to endure during the just finished world assembly, when they passed by the closed door of a bathroom and France heard the sound of a soft familiar voice. Ok, more than voice that was certainly a moan.
He stopped abruptly, causing England to stare back at him and regard him with a questioning and slightly worried stare.
"Is there something wrong?" The English nation asked, only to earn a soft smile from his husband.
"Not really, I just forgot something behind. Go on, I'll reach up to you in no time."
In front of the surprised stare of the English nation, France turned on his heels, only to hide behind the nearest corner at his disposal. After having ensured himself that England was actually moving on by himself, France opened his working bag and pulled out the two change of clothes he always brought with him.
Knowing how things could easily and suddenly evolve between himself and his consort, France was always prepared for the worst-case scenario, in order not to risk going around wet, naked, dirty or who knows what the two of them would put themselves through the next time. He was France, though, and if he thought beforehand about these kind of things, it didn't mean that other people normally thought that far ahead.
Canada certainly wasn't the kind of person to do it, that was why, no matter how much his child was enjoying himself right now, as soon as they were done they were about to face several problems. And a good father was supposed to solve his cute child problems, right? Bothering said child was a father's must as well, so if he could achieve both even better.
France put the two changes of clothes into a bag, then, drew over it a smiling caricature of himself telling Canada 'Bien fait! Papa est si fier de toi et de tes cheveux~' and then run back to the bathroom.
'Well done! Dad is so proud of you and of your hair' certainly had the right amount of love and bother a good father could only dream to achieve.
It took only a second to place the change of clothes in front of the closed door and knock on it - just to be sure that they would find the clothes before the cleaning service came and took it away- and then he rushed back towards the entrance of the building, where England was waiting for him as expected.
"What the heck had you forgotten, frog?" He greeted him with a bored expression on his face. "The last bit of your dignity?"
"Ta gueule, Angleterre!" France bit back to his lover, and then sighed as he noticed the downpour they were supposed to challenge to get back to the nearby main road and attempt catching a cab. "Your weather certainly is something; I do even wonder why we keep arranging meetings at yours."
England just blushed scarlet and attempted to mutter something that had no real meaning but sounded something like a mix between an excuse and an insult at France's arrogance.
"T-that's why you have umbrellas, though!" He eventually bellowed at France and opened his own, ready to walk under the downpour. "So, are you coming?"
"I don't really have an umbrella with me~" France lied, smiling with an innocence he didn't have to his lover, and thus earning England to simply look away from him altogether.
"Y-you can join me under mine." He offered, blushing in sheer embarrassment. "How come you are ready with changes of clothes and other useless things every time, but you are not prepared for the chance of rain in England?"
"The changes of clothes and the rest of the useless things I bring with me gave us several good times, I wouldn't call them useless~" France chirped happily, joining his lover under his umbrella and clinging tightly to him. "Moreover, I have you to think about the rain in England, to each his own~"
England could only growl at his husband's teases, but he eventually just smiled adoringly at France and kissed him on his lips.
"I thought I was annoying?" France questioned with hilarity, noticing England easily melting at his side.
"You are, but I thought that probably, if I kiss the frog enough, it could eventually become a prince~"
"Try as much as you want, cher~ Everything to please you." France offered teasingly to England and, with that and a last kiss, the both of them moved on, challenging the English rain together as they held close to one another.
The End