Sticks and Pucks May Break Your Bones (Chapter 1)

Author: MeltingMetal315

Original Creation Date: April 12, 2011

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia

Pairing(s): AmeriCan

Rating: PG13 (this chapter)

Warnings: Language, slight violence, alcohol consumption,fluffyAmeriCan, mix of nation names and human names (throughout), forced cross-dressing in good humor (this chapter), a rather drunk Canada

AN: Ugh, so sorry that I haven't been uploading in a timely manner. I only have internet on my laptop certain days. And I'll be straight out honest. I haven't had much time to work on my fanfiction. I had two really big papers due and I've been having a lot of family shit to deal with =_= So far, I only have another chapter and a half written. You guys have every right to come throughout the screen and slap me OTL

Abnyway, I appreciate all your reviews! I read every single one, even if I don't reply ^_^

I actually didn't get to watch the first two games (I watched part of the second game, though) so these first chapters will be about their after adventures~ And Canada's all yandere and OOC when he's drunk…. you should know that by now ;D haha AND THERE'S PLENTY 'O CRACK IN THIS CHAPPIE XD

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"AHAHAHA! Hey, Alfie?" Matthew, his cheeks dusted in a drunken blush, smirked, elbowing his brother in the arm.

"What, Matthew?" Alfred sighed, rolling his eyes. He ran an exasperated hand through his hair.

"YOUR TEAM GOT PWNED!" The smaller blond threw his head back as he began to laugh. Alfred rolled his eyes. There were only two things that got his brother drunk: New Years parties and hockey games.

"Yes, Matt, I know." Alfred gripped Matthew's arm and began to walk faster out of the stadium. Matthew, since he was Canada and all, had easily gotten front row seats. Therefore, it took a little bit longer to get past the crowds and out of the building. Not to mention the fact that Alfred kept getting glares and shoves from Matthew's fellow fans. Maybe it wasn't the bet idea to come in full Blackhawks gear…

"I'm so drunk right now, Al, it's not even funny!" Contradicting himself, Matthew continued giggling. "Butbutbut! I don't think I can take any more beer! Can we change up the bet a little?"

Alfred thought for a moment and, after a while, decided that this was just a one-game fuck up and his team would win the next games anyway, so he could totally take advantage of this…

"Okay. But I get to give the suggestions!"

"Aw! ….Fine!" Matthew almost ran into a pole, save for Alfred's quick reflex, dragging his brother back towards him.

"Okay, so the winner gets to tell the loser what to do. And the loser has to do it no matter what. Deal?"

"HA! HELL YEAH!" Matthew slapped Alfred's arm (a bit too hard). "You don't know what you just walked into, bro!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let's go back to your place and then we can discuss today's… er…. loss."

Canada fake coughed. "I believe it's today's win."

"You suck!"

"Psh, you gargle, and we all know it."

"…'least I don't swallow."

"Spitter's a quitter!"

"Damn, you're such a bitch when you're drunk."

"Damn, you're such a bitch."

"I hate you."

"Love you, too, Alfie, love you, too."

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Alfred had taken charge and fumbled with Matthew's (rather large set of) keys before finally twisting the proper one and unlocking the door with a soft click. He fumbled around on the wall before switching on the light. Matthew owned a modest townhouse. Three bedrooms (two guest, one master), 2.5 baths, a little kitchen connected to the joint dining room and living room, an office, and a rather large backyard with an indoor/outdoor pool. Okay, maybe his house was little bit more than modest, but it was tiny compared to what America was used to.

Canada had begun to sober up and was too preoccupied with rubbing his temples and trying to keep his balance to manage walking. He went straight to the kitchen and searched the cabinet before pulling out a bag of coffee. He set a mug of water in the microwave and returned to find that his brother had gotten comfortable on his couch and was flipping through the channels on his 74 inch… well, you had to have a nice TV to watch the game on when your boss couldn't hook you up with the proper tickets.

"Hey Matt, feeling better?"

"Yeah, I guess. Ugh, I haven't really stayed in my Vancouver house for a while. I don't know where any of my good coffee is," Matthew sighed as he plopped down next to Alfred.

"Hey, so, what's your one command? You know, for winning this game." Alfred mumbled the last part. He had always been rather arrogant and most times, he refused to fully accept a loss on his part.

Matthew chuckled (a bit less drunk this time). "Hm, well, I'm not sure right now… What about if... No, that won't work. What if you went and got France and…. Nah, Papa's a total pervert… He'd probably like molest us both, haha… Oh! I know!" A sly smile spread across the blonde's face.

Alfred raised an eyebrow skeptically at his brother. "What?"

"Oh nothing…" Matthew waved a hand. "Just that… you have to go to England's house… dressed in drag… and you have to try to sell a jar of glitter lotion to him by convincing him it's magic rejuvenation cream and he should wear it to all the world meetings…. YES!"

Alfred stared at his brother, who was now laughing maniacally. He blinked a few times before he processed everything. "Do you have a death wish for or something? Damn, Mattie! Old prick's going to kill me!"

Matthew continued to laugh. "AHAHAHA! This will be gold! Let's go now. We have about a day and a half… London is about three hours away on my fastest jet. I'll have my boss hook me up with the proper... supplies." Matthew smirked, leaving the room to make arrangements.

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"Do I have to, Mattie?" Alfred scowled as he pulled the (rather short) plaid skirt down, then back up, and back down again. "Ugh, I absolutely hate you right now."

Matthew had pulled some strings and got a hold of a private jet. He made sure that the right outfit was ready for Alfred in the cabin. At the present moment, Alfred wore a pleated, red, plaid schoolgirl skirt; a light grey dress shirt; a red wool coat with large, shiny, back buttons; and knee-high, light grey, thigh-high socks. To further hide his identity, Alfred wore fake red glasses, light make up, and a very light blond wig tied into two low braids with red ribbons and red hairpins. Matthew had laughed his ass off.

It was a little after noon at the moment. The plane had left first thing in the morning (well, around nine, to be exact. Matt wanted to leave earlier, but Alfred refused to leave without a 3-course breakfast of multi-flavored pancakes and other… American dishes, to put it nicely) and arrived no more than a half hour ago. Matthew predicted that his little shenanigan wouldn't last over an hour and that he and Al would have some downtime to just hang out in London for the afternoon. He figured they'd stay the night and leave the next morning. After all, the next game wasn't until seven at night, Vancouver time.***

At the current moment, the two brothers sat hidden in Arthur's fancy shrubbery. Matthew had just finished planting and setting up all the appropriate recording and monitoring equipment and now all Al had to do was put on a show. In case Alfred were to come at a loss for words, Matthew had Al wear a little chip in his ear in which Matt could speak to him. After all, this was so going on You Tube.

"Go get 'em, Alfie!"

"Ugh."

Alfred grabbed the sample jar of glitter lotion and, with a shove from Mattie, made his way to knock on England's door.

"Who's interrupting my tea time?" Arthur answered the door with a scowl. Alfred smiled nervously, and, in a rather believable falsetto, replied, "Hello, sir, would you like to hear about our new magical rejuvenating cream? It's a special potion that's been enchanted to make you look -and feel- as if you were seventeen again!" Alfred finished with a pearly smile. Matthew stifled his laughter. Arthur raised a brow.

"Hm? You don't say…" Arthur mumbled. He snatched the jar from Alfred and cracked open the lid. He scooped some of the glittery ointment onto a fingertip. "Magical, you said?"

"Yes, of course!" Alfred's shit-eating grin faltered as he began to become annoyed with the Briton.

"I see… how much?" England eyed it before raising a brow at the "salesgirl."

"Oh… uh…"

Matthew had to bite into his lip to keep from cracking up. "Say fifty euros, Al"

"It's fifty euros!"

"Well… I suppose it's worth it… Since it's magical and all. All right," Alfred grinned as Arthur fished out fifty euros from his wallet.

"Thank you! Get young!" Alfred broke his falsetto, smirked, and ran off with the money before Arthur could process a thing.

Matthew gathered his equipment and made sure that they were on the next train out of Arthur's London suburb.

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***I gave up on trying to figure out how to make it so that the boys had a day in London with the time difference and plane trip time considered _ Just pretend that the times are all the same… just this once for lil' confused ol' me /shot/

Anyway, I'll have the next chapter out tomorrow most likely.

And in case you don't know the results as of yet:

Game 1: Canucks (2-0)

Game 2: Canucks (3-4)

Game 3: Canucks (3-2)

Game 4: Hawks (7-2)

Game 5: Hawks (5-0)

Please review and sorry about the wait! OTL