Disclaimer: I own nothing
Canada x America
Rated: T
Manada
Do not pull Canada's curl, America
"Hey, Mattie," America chewed on his cereal, looking thoughtfully towards his brother's unruly hair. Canada glanced up, not really paying attention because it was so early in the morning, "Haven't you ever wondered what happens when you touch that?" He gestured to Canada's long curl.
Matthew muttered something, not hearing Alfred because it was too damn early in the morning for America's games, "I know the Italies react weirdly when it's touched..." America mumbled, smirking slyly as he reached over the table.
Canada stiffened, feeling America tugging insistingly on his curl, "A-Alfred, stop it!" Matthew cried out, trying to move away before the change could take place. However, America's strength was too much for him.
"Mattie...?" America blinked, moving away warily when Canada stopped moving all together and slowly glanced up with a dark look in his deep indigo eyes, "What's wrong?"
"Alfred," Canada drawled in a much deeper, less whispery voice, "You're wasting the maple syrup, eh?" Matthew eyed the bottle of sweet syrup that Alfred had knocked over accidentally, "Bad boys like you need to be punished."
"M-Mattie!" America felt his voice slip, letting out a small noise when Canada flipped over the table with ease, landing in his lap. He vaguely wondered where the fuck this suddenly manly, lumberjack Canada even came from...
"Just relax, Al," Canada purred darkly, "Let's play a game of baseball, eh? I'll be the pitcher and I'm sure you'll like the receiving..."