World Cup 2018

Mexico looked across the field as the final whistle sounded. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, beating like he hadn't felt it beat in a very long time. He could feel his vocal chords aching from the way he had yelled since the thirty-fifth minute. He had only just composed himself enough for some semblance of professionalism. Everything told him to scream his triumph to the sky until his vocal chords failed.

He could see Germany and Prussia across the field. The younger of the two was staring at the ground in absolute shock. Prussia looked like he had just swallowed poison and was waiting for it to kill him.

Mexico would've smirked if the smile on his face didn't feel permanent. He knew that those two had expected nothing from him, and written this off as a game they could win. That was their mistake, which Mexico was glad to have exposed it. The champions weren't as unbeatable as they thought.

Mexico could hear the deafening roar of his people in the stands, belting out their love for their homeland. They were singing for him, and he could feel it in his blood.

It was traditional that the countries would meet in the middle of the field and shake hands after every game, regardless of the results. It was meant to foster good will.

But, Mexico could already tell that this would not be a happy meeting. And he had no desire to make it such. There had been enough remarks disparaging him in the days leading up to this match, and he was glad to see them have to eat their words.

He strode out across the grass, showing that he was ready for the tradition. Germany looked like he swallowed particularly painfully and then elbowed his brother, who looked completely malevolent. Traditions had to be kept, so Germany took the step as well.

The sound around them did not abate as they finally came together in the middle of the field. At first, Germany looked right over Mexico's head at the crowd. He looked shocked at how loud they were being.

But, Germany remembered why he was there and looked back down at Mexico. Then, with the look of a man who was watching an execution, he extended his hand. He said, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd, "Well done."

He was trying to be polite and Mexico appreciated that. The boy, at least, was well mannered. He must have gotten it from Austria, because it certainly did not come from Prussia. Mexico took his hand and shook it, and said in response, "Thank you."

Prussia was still glaring dangers at him, and Mexico turned to him next. He said, "So, you were boasting about 'building the wall' yesterday?"
Prussia remained stubbornly silent, though his eyes spoke volumes. Mexico was in the kind of mood where he would not try to hide his smugness. He added, "Any regrets about that now?"

He could see the angry flush creeping up the albino's face, and that was satisfying in itself. Mexico extended his hand like he was really being civil. But, in this moment, he had no desire to pretend he wasn't facing the man who had boasted loudly about how simple this game would be.

Prussia said, "I don't regret anything." But, he still took Mexico's hand, and his grip was strong, tense. Mexico smiled back, as charming as possible.

But, as soon as Prussia released his hand, he said, "If you two will excuse me, I am going to go celebrate my victory."

He turned and walked back across the field. His mind was already on joining his people in their celebration. He looked forward to drinking and dancing and letting the world know what he had won. He would enjoy every minute of it and it did not matter what would come next. This was victory, all the victory he needed.

Mexico walked back to his own room in the hotel, not entirely sober, but drunk more on nationalist fervor than on alcohol. It was intoxicating to remind himself of what really made him strong. The love that his people had for him was inspiring. He hadn't wiped the smile off of his face since the end of the game.

He flung himself down on the couch in the living room of the suite. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off a little, he could feel how tired his legs were from being on his feet and jumping. Letting himself rest a little would be good for now. He was still smiling though and he felt like he might never stop smiling.

He had barely laid down when he heard little running footsteps. His chihuahua, the only one he had brought with him to Russia, came running into the room from the bedroom. Without slowing down, the dog launched himself at the couch, and landed, not entirely gracefully, on Mexico's chest.

Mexico smiled and picked up the little dog. He said, and felt the pain in his vocal chords as he spoke, "Your dad beat the world champion today." In response, the dog licked his face and wagged his tail so aggressively that his whole body moved.

Mexico brought the dog closer to his face and kissed him on top of his fluffy head before he said, "You're so cute."

The door banged open, and Mexico glanced over to see who was barging into his room. He had not expected any company, but he would welcome anyone. Brazil came through the door, and immediately sat down in one of the chairs. Without offering an explanation, she started to unlace her shoes.

Mexico said, slightly confused by her presence, "Isa, what are you doing here?"
She looked up with a face that made it clear that she was repressing a laugh. She said, "What happened to your voice?"

Mexico knew he sounded like he had throughly burned out his voice. He replied, his voice only sounding a little better, "I yelled too much."
Brazil raised one eyebrow. She said, still working on her shoes, "You yelled too much? You must have partied hard. You have always had a gift for being loud."

The innuendo in her voice was clear enough. Mexico said, "You didn't answer my question."
She sighed and said, "I am avoiding Juan. I made fun of him for tying with Iceland yesterday. I just tied."

Mexico let out a short laugh. He found it so amusing that Brazil and Argentina always engaged in such a cutthroat rivalry during the world cup. He had no doubt Brazil had given Argentina hell for that tie. He said, "So, you assumed he wouldn't be in my room?"

She smirked as she finished kicking off her cleats and said, "You just got back. He hasn't had time to seduce you."
Mexico sat up and placed his dog gently on the floor. He said, playing coy, "But I would like to be seduced."

Brazil reached up and took her hair out of its ponytail. It fell in black curls around her shoulders, and Mexico had the urge to run his hands through it. She said, "I'm the better choice."

She stood up and walked over to sit next to him on the couch. The look on her face left little doubt in Mexico's mind that she hadn't come to his room for conversation. He said, "So, do you want to kiss the man who beat Germany?"
She leaned in and said, "Of course I do."

Mexico used one hand to push back one of her curls as he leaned in to join their lips. It was a light kiss, but it showed intention. When Mexico pulled back, Brazil said, putting her hand on his face, "I'm so proud of you, my prince. I only wish I had been there to see their faces."

Mexico replied, "Are you still feeling vengeful?" She smiled like a cat would when contemplating an injured bird, "I will make them pay when I play them."

She paused only long enough to join their lips again, more aggressively again. Then she said, "But, I am so happy you won." Mexico gently pulled her closer, and guided her into yet another kiss.

He wanted to take this moment to celebrate both his victory and the fact that America was far away, so he could be with the people he loved.

Brazil pulled herself onto his lap, confidently straddling him and using her height advantage to take control of the kiss. Mexico let her dictate the intensity. He let his hands slowly run up her legs and eventually to her hips.

She pulled back, and with a devilish look, pulled off her shirt and threw it across the room. Mexico said, between soft kisses on her neck and collarbone, "I'm not as good as you. You're a goddess."
She entwined one hand in his hair as she said, almost breathlessly, "You know it."

Mexico chuckled as he kissed even lower, across the top of her breasts. He loved her confidence, and always had. But, he had been hoping to get a compliment in return. She whispered in his ear, "Let's take this to the bed. I've been looking forward to this."
Mexico replied in a whisper, "Yes. Me too."

Brazil stood and Mexico followed, his hands never leaving her hips. Their lips met again. With each kiss, they were getting more intense, more lustful. They managed to get to the bed without releasing each other for more than a few moments.

Mexico took off his shirt as she pulled him, firm but not forcefully, onto the bed. As they intertwined again, Mexico was convinced that a day of triumph was going to end in a night of bliss with one of the most beautiful, talented people he knew. He felt nothing but joy. He hoped he could hold onto this euphoria for the rest of the night at least.
_

Mexico was asleep for once, and it was dreamless. His arm was wrapped around Brazil, who had been holding onto him as they both drifted off to sleep. They were both tangled in the sheets. The blankets were strewn haphazardly around them. Mexico's chihuahua was curled up below his feet.

Nothing interrupted the silent peace until, out of the blue, Mexico's phone lit up in the dark and started to vibrate.

For the first moment, nothing stirred, but then Mexico slowly turned his head and squinted angrily at it.

He turned the display towards himself to see an unknown number calling. He could ignore it and go back to sleep, since he did not know the number. But, something told him that he should answer. So, he got out of bed and pulled on pants before he grabbed the phone and stepped out onto the balcony. The last thing he wanted was to wake Brazil with what was probably an unimportant phone call.

Only once the door was closed behind him, did Mexico swipe to answer. He put it to his ear and heard the person on the other end say, "I wanted to congratulate you on your win. You played well."

Mexico knew the voice on the other end, though the person was trying to make his voice deeper. Mexico sighed and said, "Alfred, I know it's you."

He heard the person on the other side trip over his words as he said, "How do you- No, it's not."
Mexico rolled his eyes. Of course, America would pretend that he is so clever to hide his own voice. But, he wasn't that clever.

Mexico said, "You're using your stupid secret agent voice." He could almost imagine the face that Alfred was making. Maybe he had even put on sunglasses to make himself feel more secretive.

America gave up the pretense and said, "I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you." Mexico felt an unbidden surge of affection that America had called just for that. But, he reminded himself that America was just using it as a way to get back into his life. America didn't care, not really.

Mexico took a deep breath and replied, "Do you understand why I blocked your number?"
There were a few seconds of silence before America hesitantly said, "Because you were mad at me?"

Mexico clenched and unclenched his free hand in an attempt to calm himself. Could America really think that it was just anger after everything he had said and done? The idea was more than enough to reignite Mexico's ire. He responded, sharply, "Because I don't want to talk to you." He let out another sharp snort of breath before saying, "Whose phone are you using anyway?"

The silence that followed only added to Mexico's frustration. Until America finally said, "It's a prepaid phone. I missed talking to you."

America was clearly trying so hard to sound charming, but Mexico could not let himself believe it. He said, "I don't care if you're lonely, Alfred. I only want to hear if you are sorry."
America said, this time quickly, "What am I supposed to be sorry for?"

Mexico could feel his free hand clenched firmly into a fist. He hated when America did this. He was trying to make Mexico say it so he could make it sound like it was not a big deal. Mexico replied, "You know what."
America said, annoyingly patronizing, "You are making mountains out of molehills."

Mexico felt strangely vindicated to hear America say exactly what he was thinking. It was exactly what he had suspected. He said, "Don't call me again for any reason until you are ready to reflect on your own behavior." America didn't answer, and Mexico didn't care. He hung up the phone.

Then he turned to see Brazil standing at the balcony door. She was wearing a loose robe, and he was momentarily taken aback by how beautiful she looked. She extended a hand to him and said, "Come here."

Exhausted from talking to America, he obeyed. Once he took her hand, she pulled him close. He put both of his hands on her waist. The closeness felt right.

She said, stroking his cheek as she pushed back a piece of his hair, "Don't worry about him. Come back to bed." He nodded, not sure he was convinced that he shouldn't worry. He had hoped to keep his problems far away.

Brazil leaned down to kiss him on the lips lightly. That, at least, was nice. It would be enough for now, until he had to return and really deal with America again.
He followed her back to bed, and let himself fall back asleep in her arms.

—-
World Cup 2018

Mexico walked back to his own hotel room with a slight limp. He regretted not punching Korea for that cheap shot. He had been cordial at the end, and shook the other's hand, even with the pain in his thigh. Now he wished he had at least said something sharp.

He opened the door and let out a groan. He usually had a high pain tolerance, but the groan was born from annoyance more than pain. He was frustrated that he had let it happen, and not taken any retribution or vengeance. He walked inside and immediately sat on the couch.

He hadn't noticed that Brazil was sitting in one of the chairs with his dog in her lap. He had given her a key to his hotel room, since he enjoyed her company and was happier to not come back to an empty hotel room.

She looked up as he walked in and said, after he had sat down, "You did well again. One more and you will go to the next round." Mexico wished he could return her warm smile, but he was still focused on his own anger about the pain.

He replied, wincing slightly, "That is easier said than done."
Brazil said, flirtatiously, "I'm good motivation. If you can win the group, you can avoid me for a little while."

He rolled up the leg of his shorts so that he could see the ugly purple on his skin. He let out a long breath through his teeth, attempting to calm himself. Brazil said, "That looks painful. I guess Korea hit you pretty hard."

Mexico looked up and said, "He's lucky. If a man had hit me like that in any other context, I would have ended him."

She nodded sympathetically in response.

Mexico's dog squirmed out of her lap, jumped down, and ran across to where Mexico was sitting. Then, he stood expectantly in front of him.

He knew that the dog was perfectly capable of jumping himself, and this was just a ploy to get affection. But, he wasn't going to deny his darling any affection.

Mexico reached down and pet the dog behind the ears, which elicited ecstatic tail wagging. Then he lifted the little dog into his lap, being careful to avoid the bruised part of his thigh.
Brazil said, lifting her shirt, "Mine is still healing from Switzerland and Costa Rica." There was a bruise across her ribs, which Mexico had seen already. But hers was almost gone, whereas the one on his thigh was still aching.

He smiled back, as he scratched his chihuahua behind the ears, and said, "When did it become normal to hit your opponent?"
She replied, with a confident smile that made his heart beat faster, "It's the last defense of a desperate man. When they know they can't win honestly, that is what they do."

She looked satisfied with the fact that she struck that much fear in the hearts of other countries. He couldn't help but be proud that his success was having the same effect. None of Korea's brutality could erase the fact that he had another victory, and good reason to hope that he could advance. Mexico said, smiling at Brazil, "It didn't help Korea. I still won."
She replied, "And I'm proud of you."

Mexico looked down at his bruised leg and could already see the edges healing, and returning to their normal color. He thought, his relationship with immortality was complicated but healing quickly was certainly a perk.

There was really no point in just watching it heal, so he looked back up at Brazil. He was constantly surprised by how beautiful she was, and never more so than when she was full of confidence. He said, leaning towards her, "Would you like to get dinner with me?"

He could think of nothing more pleasant than going out and enjoying the time they had together. It would be nice to have the time together, even though he knew they might be pitted against each other in the near future. It was a chance to enjoy himself, on and off the field, and he intended to.

Brazil replied with a nod, "I would."

Mexico didn't care that the next day might bring more contention, this moment was good enough. He found himself still smiling as he went to shower, and he was certain that he was already glowing.

—-

Modern

There was finally a break in the long, tedious world meeting and Brazil stepped out of the room. She was glad to get away from America grandstanding, and his unbearable sense of self entitlement. He had the most frustrating tendency to take up all the oxygen in the room, even though this was meant to be a world meeting.

She undid the top button of her shirt, so that she did not have to be uncomfortable while she took her break.

She stopped to take one of the sandwiches that had been provided for lunch. It did not look that appealing, but it was what was provided. It really was no surprise that America had not provided the best lunch.

She found a quiet space and started eating without any real enthusiasm. Her thoughts were already very far away as she took a bite of the mediocre sandwich.

She could not wait to escape this meeting and America's annoying presence. Once she got home, she planned to take a long bath and then sit on her balcony with a book and enjoy some quiet. Politics was enough to cause her a bit of a headache.

She looked out at the crowd of people, and realized that as she had let her thoughts wander, she had not yet noticed that Costa Rica had walked up to her and was watching her with a pensive smile. Once Costa Rica noticed that Brazil was looking at her, she said, "What are you thinking about? You looked very focused."

The look on her face was so cute and so invested. Brazil smiled back, and it felt like the first time she had smiled all day. She replied, "I was thinking about all the places I would rather be."

Costa Rica pushed her own glasses up her nose and said, "I was thinking about the same thing. I was thinking of this place at my home where I can stay in the rainforest. It's a nice little cabin in the forest."

She didn't seem to just be musing to herself. Brazil could hear that there was a playful undertone to what she was saying. A charming little spot in the rainforest did sound like an appealing away to get away from all of this political headache, and Costa Rica had a glowing smile as she talked about it which gave her a sense that it must be a nice place.

Brazil said, "If you need company, I would be happy to go with you. I need some quiet, and that sounds like the perfect place."
Costa Rica nodded happily and said, "I do want company. In fact, I have already reserved a cabin for the two of us."

Her coyness made Brazil smile. It was sweet that she had already set up a nice retreat, and already knew she would agree to it. Knowing that Costa Rica had noticed her stress and was trying to remedy it made her feel better than she had all day.

She replied, "In that case, we should absolutely go there as soon as this is over."
She gestured around at the world meeting, to make sure that it was clear what she was talking about. She added, "I have had more than enough stress already."

Without warning, Costa Rica reached up, standing on her toes to do so, and ran her thumb across Brazil's cheek right next to her lips. She said, offering an explanation, "There was something on your face. I had to get it off."

Brazil chuckled, "Was there really?" She felt like this was just an excuse to touch her face, and she did not object to that. It had made her face feel warmer to be touched in a sweet way, and she was never going to complain about that.

Costa Rica replied, touching the bridge of her glasses playfully, "I can see it. I have enhanced eyesight." Brazil chuckled again and said, "I don't think that is how it works, dear." Costa Rica stood on her toes again and kissed Brazil on the cheek and said, "Trust me, I'm a scientist."