Time by Eve-the-Charlotte
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers. However, I am pleased to say I own my own version of Scotland, which I forgot to mention in the first chapter, and my own version of Moldova.
Pairings in this Story: Various.
Pairings in this Chapter: Canada/Moldova, Russia/America, and Denmark/Iceland.
Prompt: Time
Time for chapter three, y'all! Woohoo!
&You'reBornOfAJackal&
Fortnight
Two weeks was a long time to be baby-sitting. At least, that's what Matthew Williams thought as he learned that Alfred and Ivan would not be in North America for a month and Ruxandra, as the Canadian had learned Romania was called, wouldn't be able to fly to Ontario until a fortnight had passed. This left Canada to be forced to take care of one Ştefan Braginsky, known also as Moldova, for quite a length of time. This would have been fine, as he had been forced to watch children for longer lengths of time (parents forget who and where Canada was) and there had been no problems. Heck, he'd even watched Moldova before. The problem was that Ştefan was growing up fast and was barely a little kid by any means. And Canada's body realized that.
The child was rapidly becoming a man, a handsome man at that. The boy looked quite a bit like Russia, with his height and build and large, pale violet eyes. However, Ştefan's skin was a tad darker and his hair was soft and curly and a lush shade of medium brown that highlighted his eyes and Matthew should stop thinking these things before thoughts become words that lead to actions! It didn't help that Ştefan often pouted when he did not get his way, which was often as the many things he wanted to do were often radical and, in some cases, illegal in at least a hundred countries. And when the boy pouted, all Canada, no, all Matthew wanted to do was kiss those lush lips, which would draw out an innocent whimper and that would lead the Canadian down a road from which he could not turn back.
"Matei, comrade, what is wrong," was the innocent query posed by the object of Matthew's wrong yet oh so tempting thoughts. Matthew turned around, and his poor old heart almost stopped beating. There was Ştefan in all his glory, wearing only a white terry bath towel wrapped around his waist. The rest of the boy's body was lean and lanky, with just the beginning of muscles showing up in the right places. The boy looked rather wet still, probably not having properly dried off and then he would get sick and Matthew would have to nurse the sick boy back to health and the Moldovan would be so weak and helpless and completely subject to the merest whims of the Canadian and Matthew ought to stop talking to Ivan because, man, was that man rubbing off on him! The boy pouted as he realized he was being ignored, not at all aware of how sexy he looked.
Did Ştefan know how he appeared? The drops of water falling from his water-darkened hair were slowly sliding down the boy's body enticingly, begging Matthew to lick them all up, starting from the shoulders down, down, down. Mon Dieu, Matthew was going to l'Inferno. . . Wait a second, when did Ştefan get so close to him? Moldova stood toe to toe with the Canadian, which, if the still-growing boy inched closer, would allow Ştefan to fit snugly underneath Matthew's chin. Moldova obviously noticed Canada's attention was now firmly focused on him, which caused the Russo-Romanian child to smile. That smile was the final trumpet blast sounded that brought down Matthew's walls of self-restraint. The Canadian's last thoughts were, "Lui de baise."
Month
Whilst this, in the view of some atrocious, incident occurred, Ivan and Alfred sat in a meeting room, bored out of their minds by the serious diplomatic talks taking place around them. Honestly, their current leaders still didn't seem to get that leaving the personifications of the Russian Federation and the United States of America alone in a locked broom closet with a few bottle of Jack Daniels and Smirnoff and a few condoms and a bottle of cherry-scented (not strawberry or peach because, dude, so not manly) hand lotion would ease tensions between the two major world powers quicker than some mind-blowingly boring meetings that never got anywhere anyway. Or maybe their leaders were secretly war-mongers that really wanted a continuation of the Cold War. Whatever.
America managed to come out of his boredom-induced coma long enough to observe that: A.) nothing was still getting accomplished at the meeting, and B.) Russia looked hot without his coat on, dude, for serious. The larger Russian was very well-muscled without an ounce of fat on his bones, which suited him so fine. The American President shot a sideways glare at Alfred, who noticed that he was drooling slightly, which America couldn't really help since he'd wanted to get into Ivan's pants again for such a very long while, and now he was missing his chance. Wait a second, that wasn't right!
One hand raise, awkward bathroom excuse, and ever-so-subtle sexual gesture to Russia later, Alfred got his currently dearest wish, Ivan pushing him roughly against the bathroom wall, one thigh forcefully pushing Al's legs apart, ruthlessly kissing the American, which caused America to moan and whine and buck his hips. Ivan pulled his lips away from Alfred's, surveying his prey before making his next move. . .
"Sweet baby Jesus," shrieked the unsuspecting intern who had just walked into the bathroom to pee and found the, to him at least, horrific sight before his eyes. Another intern walked in as well, after noticing her fellow co-worker's frightened yelp, and paused in front of the scene as her brain processed what lay before her. Ivan and America both had one thought running through their minds, that of "oh shit." Needless to say, their collective horror was not relieved by the slowly widening evil smile across the female intern's face and the deep violet aura that often surrounded Russia in his bouts of manic glee emitting from the woman's body.
One hour later, after haggling and finally handing over two blank checks to the interns, one still with a completely traumatized expression and the other with a totally happy smile of sweet triumph, Russia and America made their way back to the meeting room. Of course, by the time the two got back, the coma-inducing meeting was over, and their respective Presidents were not happy men at all. Alfred, victim of the disease oft described as "Open-Mouth-Insert-Foot," immediately put into words his inner monologue of "aw, shit!" Judging by the looks on the faces of the leaders of the two great world powers, Alfred had a feeling that this was going to be one long month, дa?
Year
Jørgen shivered as he sat alone in his very large, very old home in the heart of København. His house was oh so lonely, as Færoes was out with Åland doing whatever little provinces of different countries did with each other when they went out with each other. Grønland was still pissed at Jørgen for not granting him full independence after the war. Ah, the war, World War II, the war that turned Jørgen neutral world into a living nightmare. And, even as it ended, Jørgen still had to face the reality that Island was gone for good this time. Sure, he managed to get him back before, with that Act of Union, but Viggó was not coming back this time. This time, Jørgen had lost the last of what he considered his brothers, even if his feelings for them exceeded the term "bror." Sverige and Finland had left long ago, yet Jørgen still often awoke in the middle of the night with nightmares from the break. Norge had been forcibly taken from him by his storebror, even as Jørgen forced himself to finally let Sjurd go free. This act would have broken the Dane completely; in fact, it almost did, if not for his engel, his Viggó. And his kærlighed had left, had felt forced to leave by Danmark's weakness, the Dane's inability to protect even himself from the ulve, the dreaded Nazister. It was entirely his fault.
And now Jørgen sat in his lonely house, nursing some mead in an attempt to stave off his depression, though the drink seemed to only deepen his sorrows further. So low was he that Danmark did not notice the door to his home opening and even did not take in the shadow that joined his on the wall of the darkened study. A pair of slim arms wrapped themselves around the Dane's chest from behind and a voice whispered in thickly-accented Danish, "Må ikke bekyrme dig, kæru. Jeg er her."
Jørgen's eyes widened in shock as his mind scrambled to take in the thin, warm arms surrounding him and the angelic voice with its Icelandic accent whispered milk and honey into his ears. It was Viggó's turn to be startled as the Dane leapt out of his armchair and fully embraced the young man next to him. Viggó felt his eyes widen and face heat up as Danmörk seemed to try to merge his body into Viggó's. The young man's stiff posture did not thaw until he felt the body-wracking sobs emitting from the older country and heard the fevered whispers of "Skal du ikke lade mig, min kærlighed, mit hjerte, min sjæl, min elskede."
Ísland felt a few tears slip down his red cheeks as his soul absorbed the pain Jørgen felt so openly. He knew the behavior was driven by spirits and loneliness, yet he could feel his heart flutter at the loving words spoken in pain, as even the sorrow of this night could not diminish the effect of the words on Ísland's heart. It was, after all, the first anniversary of his independence from Danmörk.
All hail June 17, 1945.
&You'reBeautiful&
Romanian to English Translation
Matei – Romanian version of the name "Matthew"
French to English Translations
Mon Dieu – My God
l'Inferno – Hell
Lui de baise – the literal translation is "fuck him," but is meant as "fuck it."
Russian to English Translation
Дa - yes
Danish to English Translations
København – Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark
Grønland – Greenland, autonomous province of Denmark that has and is making bids for independence from the Kingdom of Denmark for quite some time
Island – Iceland
bror – brother
Sverige – Sweden
Norge – Norway
storebror – older brother
engel – angel
kærlighed – love
Danmark – Denmark
ulve – wolves
Nazister – the Nazis
Må ikke bekyrme dig. – Do not worry.
Jeg er her. – I am here.
Skal du ikke lade mig, min kærlighed, mit hjerte, min sjæl, min elskede. – Please don't leave me, my love, my heart, my soul, my beloved.
Icelandic to English Translation
kæru – dear
Danmörk – Denmark
Ísland – Iceland
Good night, everybody! Read and review! Peace out.