We hope you enjoy the chapter, lovely readers!

PLEASE NOTE: The original version of this chapter contains explicit smut. It has been edited for the rules of FF so you are not missing any major plot points. We have marked the edited/missing section with: +XXX+. If you would like to read the full version, it is available on AO3! There is a link in our profile.

Chapter Summary: France travels across the ocean in the hopes of finding a helping hand (or two). Canada, however, is having a similar problem.

Ch. 7: Incubi

October 30, 8:00 PM

There is creeping heat to France's blood, letting him know with each beat of his heart that the clock is ticking and time is running out. If he lets this continue... He can't let it continue. It's as simple as that. His hands are shaking, his body is hungry for a fix, for energy, for sex. Since England is being stubborn and unhelpful, and Spain is apparently dealing with Romano, there's only one thing to do: it's time for a little trip across the pond. Canada may take some persuading, but America is almost always willing.

When he arrives at America's house the little grey alien lets him in with the pleasant greeting, "Fuck you."

"You too," says France, thanking the stars he isn't quite far gone enough to try sleeping with an alien yet. He wanders into the living room, expecting to find his conquest playing video games. To his great disappointment, America is unconscious on the couch.

"Alfred! Alfred, are you alright?" he calls, shaking him. America reacts like the peacefully-departed dead, though France can feel him breathing. The boy is alive, but he appears to be completely drained. It's almost as though another incubus got here before him. He shakes his head; impossible. There aren't any others that can take down a nation.

He should do something for poor America, but he can feel his own time running out. He'll find Canada and come back, once he has consumed enough sexual energy to keep his demon at bay. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tucks America in, planting a light kiss on his forehead. Then he heads upstairs.

Canada is shaking. He'd gone downstairs earlier to see if America could relieve his ailment, as he does every month. Unfortunately, either the super power had less energy than usual or Canada required more of it, because America passed out before he was done. It must be the proximity of Halloween; things tend to get strange for him around this time of year.

France' voice at his door is like an answer to his prayers. He yanks it open, grabs the man by the collar, and drags him inside. "Francis! Hi! It's so nice to see you! What brings you here? Oh, maple, who cares about that - let's go play Big Brother France and The Virgin Colony. You can plow my tracks of land."

France squeaks as he's pulled further into the room. It's never this easy with Canada. His senses should be sending off a warning, but they're all rather overwhelmed by the burning of his blood, the sound of it rushing past his ears on its way to lower places. Who is he to question such a happy coincidence? He wraps his arms around Canada and laughs. "My dear Canada, it seems Angleterre has been most remiss in your education. Let me rectify that." He kisses him hard, kicking the door closed behind him.

Canada returns the kiss hungrily, his arms winding around France's neck as he rubs his hard-on up against the other nation, demanding attention. His blood rushes with the burn that makes his body shudder through every touch, every taste, every new sensation, and he starts yanking France's belt open, shoving his slacks to the floor. He affects a French accent, his hands already moving to places that are far from innocent or virginal. "Mmm, yes, I don't know what you're doing to me, Big Brother, but I am so eager to learn."

"What an eager student!" France kisses down his neck and bites at his pulse. He rubs against his hand, his own fingers opening Canada's pants as he steps out of his own. Canada guides them to the bedroom, and France pushes him onto the bed. Mon Dieu, they've never gone so quickly...the poor boy must have gone far too long without sex!

Canada looks over his shoulder at the black tulip that has measured his need for sex since the day he hit puberty. It is wilting. He needs to fuck now. "Oh, Big Brother France!" he cries out, rutting his cock up against France's and begging for more. "Please, show me pleasure, show me l'amour! Plow my land, fill it with your seed!"

"Merde!" France is burning, they're both burning, so wonderfully that he almost wants to take his time. Almost. There's a much more persistent need for sex before things get ugly. Before he gets ugly.

+XXX+

Canada lets loose so hard that he can barely stay on the bed. But the heat doesn't stop when he comes. It explodes and consumes him and he cries out again, arching into the pleasure of the change; it's almost better than an orgasm. His skin fades into lavender, his head sprouts little hump-horns. But - But no! This was supposed to stop the change! He writhes through it, fighting the pleasure until two huge bat wings pop out of his back, finally overwhelming him.

France shrieks in pleasure, noticing the changes in his own body just as Canada does. He pulls out and throws himself off the bed in a bid to get away before Canada realizes what's happened. He doesn't understand! The sex should have delayed the change, at the very least! Instead the process accelerates. His body twists and jerks, his skin turns grey, wings burst from his back, horns part his blonde hair, his nails grow to claws, and a tail sprouts from his spine. "NO!"

Canada gasps, crawling backward on his bed, his own tail poking straight up in the air in shock. "What the-?! Francis!" He cries out in horror, his eyes wide as he realizes what has happened. Two incubi do not cancel one another out.

France hides his face behind mutated hands, curling up and closing the wings around him. "Don't look at me! I'm hideous! Oh, cheri, please don't be frightened, I am sorry! I can explain, but...do not look, turn away!"

It is not fear, but frustration that has Canada picking up a pillow and hurling it at his "Big Brother". "Francis!" He shouts.

Shock makes France look up, and then he stares. "...oh. Well."

There's silence for a moment as they take stock of one another in demon form. Sex demon, that is. Canada swallows hard, staring at France's storm cloud skin, his wide blue eyes now shining red. Those claws, those ram horns... His cock is getting hard again. Resist! He tells himself, but at the moment resisting just isn't in his nature. "Y-Yeah..." He blushes a little, part in embarrassment and part in lust.

"But how?" France whispers. It's impossible to keep his eyes focused on Canada's face. Not when the wings tore his shirt, and that tail is curling and uncurling over the edge of the bed. He wants to pull it. After all, he always liked it when England pulled on his. Not that he will ever tell England; he'd stop if he knew how much France liked it.

"W-well, when I came to visit you when I was little, I always read your books, and..." Canada doesn't quite understand it himself. He only knows that there was one book he would always read before bed, and when he read it, a strange looking man would come to him in his dreams. The man would stay with him and talk until he opened his eyes, protecting him from bad dreams. But he said they couldn't 'play' until Canada turned eighteen. It took about that long for Canada to completely understand the promise he'd made, and its repercussions. However, right now he's staring at France's cock like it's a popsicle on a hot summer's day, and that seems far more important. He licks his lips, leaning closer. "Does it matter?"

"No...I mean YES!" France shakes his head. "Yes it matters! Oh cheri, I am so sorry! I never should have left that where you could find it. I did not want my curse to pass to you! My poor boy." He's hugging him. Intimately. He does not remember moving back on the bed, or wrapping his arms around Canada, or- tongue! There is tongue on his chest.

Canada can't help it! Not in this form. He wriggles free of France's arms, his lips and tongue making their way down France's chest. "Mmm-hmm..." He smirks, his tongue flicking his nipple. "So, it doesn't really matter, right?"

It is only because France has dealt with this curse for so long that he has the self-control to push Canada away. "But it does! We can't! You saw what happened. If we keep doing this together it will get worse! The demon will take over, and there will be nothing of us left. Just desire, and a desperate need to feed off the sexual energy of our friends and enemies alike." The thing is, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea at the moment. "We must find someone else before we both go mad!"

Canada can just barely pull himself back from France's body. "But I want to... fuck. And you're a great fuck. Who else can we fuck like this? Can we... together?"

France swallows. Canada is a gift, and one that's being offered free to him! Yet he, of all people, must refuse. "Together, but, separately. Someone must be in the middle. Oh..." He forces himself to look at Canada's eyes, even though his tale is thrashing with lust. "What is wrong with your brother?"

Canada crawls closer, his own tail twining with France's as he wraps his arms around his neck and slides into his lap. "I may have drained a bit more than he could handle. I just thought, it's Alfred, he's always full of energy. Apparently even he has a limit."

France sighs and cuddles against Canada, petting that lovely purple skin. "You two are going to be the end of me. How am I ever to fix all that Angleterre taught you if you keep getting into trouble?" He shakes his head, wings twitching, aching to stretch. "We will have to find a different third, then."

One clawed finger drags slow and heavy up France's chest, his lips pressing up against his throat. "Tell me you have somebody in mind."

As if France can think at all! He drags an equally clawed foot up Canada's leg and shuts his eyes, practically purring. Purring! That's the answer! His eyes fly open and he grins, displaying fangs. "Of course! Leave it to big brother; we will visit Greece! He is always up for l'amour, and he's always asleep, so it will be twice as powerful for us. Ah, we are saved!"

"Yes!" Canada kisses him in celebration. Of course, the kiss results in more kissing, which results in petting, which results in... Something he can barely pull away from. "Right! Yes. Let's get dressed."

France blinks. "Dressed?" Oh. Right. Naked incubi are likely to be shot on sight. With a sigh he pulls his pants over his aching hard on. He's not going to worry about the shirt; shirts make it too hard to fly.