Hello, and welcome to my first Hetalia fic, whoo! As it says in the description, pairings are still undecided. I'm following where this story leads, so give me some time, and I'll have it figured out soon enough. Until then, sit back and enjoy the ride. Please make note of the fact that I do not have a beta, and am using spell/grammar check in word and various interweb resources for editing purposes, so if things seem a bit off, I apologize. Also, I do not speak French, so forgive any errors with the language please.
I will be using both country names and human names in this story.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR THE COUNTRIES IN THIS WORK OF FICTION! NO MONIES ARE BEING MADE FROM THIS STORY. THIS IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THIS WORK HAS AN M-RATING, AND THE AUTHORESS HEREBY DECLARES THAT SHE WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE IF IT IS VIEWED BY AN INAPPROPRIATE AUDIENCE. SHE IS NOT GOD, NOR DOES SHE CONTROL THE INTERWEBS, OR THE READERS, SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT TOUGH TITTY FOR YOU.
AUTHORESS IS A CLOSET PYRO, AND WILL PLAY WITH ANY FLAMES SHE RECEIVES.
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Matthew Williams, or Canada, whichever you prefer, was someone who could be looked over with ease. He rarely spoke up, and was practically invisible to most people. Only his brother and parental figures seemed to notice him. But, in the past few years, he had grown tired of people ignoring him. So, he had set out to make a name for himself. And for the most part, he had succeeded. But he sometimes wondered if he had made the wrong impression. This is what he was thinking the morning of that fateful day, as he laid next to his bed partner, enjoying the aches that had resulted from certain activities the night before.
"Hey, Birdie… you awake yet?"
A murmur was the only response to the question.
"Heeey… wake up! The awesome me wants some attention before I have to go back to my home."
Rolling over so he could properly see his bed partner, Matthew blinked up at the one who was sitting up and reaching for the lamp beside the bed. A grin slowly spread across his face. God, what a night! Between the two of them, they had came at least 5 times that he could remember.
"Oh, really? And just what kind of attention is it that you want, eh?"
Finally managing to turn the light on, a familiar "kesesesesese" accompanied the crimson-eyed gaze of the awesome one, known as Prussia to some, and as Gilbert to others. "I think you know the answer to that, birdie. Or do I need to remind you?"
With a shake of his head, Matthew sat up in bed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. After a few fumbles, he located his glasses and slid them on, and turned to see the now-clear view of his lover.
"No reminders, please. My ass is still throbbing from the pummeling you gave it last night. I don't think I can go another round." This was said affectionately, of course. Matthew figured he loved the albino to an extent, although whether or not it was hardcore love was left to be discovered.
Gilbert pouted. Damn! He had been looking forward to a bit of early morning play in the shower. But, then again, things had reached a point that could be considered violent. "Alright then, I'll leave you be. I need to hurry anyway if I'm to catch my flight back home in time." Tossing the bedclothes aside, he jumped out of his warm cocoon and stretched thoroughly. His spine crackled in protest, but it still felt wonderful.
Matthew nodded, and reluctantly left his cozy spot as well, locating his sleep pants and pulling them on. "I'll go make a quick breakfast for you, okay?"
"Sounds good! I'll only be a few minutes." With that, the Prussian headed into the en-suite bathroom.
Chuckling, the Canadian made his way downstairs, giving Kumajiro a good morning pat to the head as he entered the kitchen. He fixed the coffee pot to brewing, and then made good time in cooking up a breakfast of eggs, French toast, and bacon. He had just sat Gilbert's plate on the table when he burst through the doorway, singing a lively German tune off key.
"Hey, looks good! " He sat down at the table and went to work on his food. "Why are you so good to me, Mattie? I mean, you would think that I stood a chance of occupying your bed permanently."
Setting a cup of black coffee next to his elbow, Matthew sat down in front of his own plate, but only picked at what was there. "It's like I said before. I want to keep my options open for the time being. Maybe one day I'll settle on someone, but until then…" Here he threw a piece of bacon at the other, who caught it skillfully in his mouth. "… Until then, I'm content with the way things are now. But, I will tell you this much." He tossed another piece of bacon, which was caught neatly like the first. "You definitely have a good chance of claiming me for good."
Gilbert's eyes lit up at that statement. Fuck yes, he knew it! "Kesesesese, you can't resist all this awesome, can you? Don't deny it! You love me."
"Don't go getting the big head over it. I'm still undecided."
A cheeky grin was the response as the last of Gilbert's breakfast was crammed in his mouth. Carrying his plate to the sink, he washed his dishes and put them away. Looking at the clock over the stove, he swore to himself, and rushed out of the kitchen, pausing only to plant a slightly greasy kiss to his lover's cheek.
"Ah, shit! I'm behind schedule! Want to take me to the airport, or should I call a taxi?"
"I'll call for you. Go and get your things together. I need to stay at home and work some." Matthew made the phone call, and in only a matter of time, the two had parted ways with the promise of meeting up again in the following weeks.
Sighing to himself, Matthew closed the door and looked across the sprawling den that made up almost half of the downstairs. Even if he did have Kumajiro to keep him company, sometimes it got to feeling quite lonely.
He made his way to his home office, and started on the stack of papers and files that had to be signed and checked over.
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It seemed like it had been only minutes, when in fact it had been hours, when his phone rang. Giving the device a disgusted look, he sat down the budget sheet he had been reading over to pick up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Matthew, my dear boy! How are you doing today?"
He groaned internally. It was Arthur, and he sounded like he was in a good mood. This usually meant something was up.
"Uhm, I'm doing good. Kind of busy at the moment." He decided to get down to the point. That stack wasn't looking too good at that time. "Is something up? You seem… unusually cheerful today."
"Oh, if you only knew what I knew!" Arthur's voice was full of glee. That statement was followed by a series of muffled sounds that didn't sound too happy. They also sounded like they had come from his brother.
Oh, goody.
"Well, could it wait until tomorrow? I have a lot of work to do…"
"Ah, to hell with your bloody paperwork! We have things to do, love. Serious things!"
Double goody.
He rolled his eyes. "Like what, exactly? My work is serious too, you know."
On the other end, Arthur was holding Alfred off with a well-placed foot to his neck, having to hold him at bay else the phone be snatched from him. Vibrant blue eyes gazed up at him from the floor, pleading with him not to spill the beans. Heh, like that was ever going to happen. The excited country had a juicy bit he planned on exploiting to its fullest.
"Matthew, did you know that your brother was a virgin?"
Silence met his response.
Matthew had pulled the receiver back from his ear, giving it an incredulous look. Had he heard what he thought he had just heard? Putting it back to his ear cautiously, he decided that he needed to hear it again.
"Uhm, I think I might have misunderstood you. Would you mind repeating that for me?"
"You're brother is a virgin!"
Okay, he heard him clearly that time. But he was inclined not to believe him. His brother was America, for fuck's sake! How the hell did America, of all countries, get away with still having his cherry?
"I don't believe you."
Arthur chuckled, gazing down at the tearful face of the one in question and giving him a cheery grin. "Oh, but it's true! And the worst part of all is that he doesn't want to lose it!" 'Come on.. Take the bait… you know you want in on this…'
"And just why is that something to be so happy about?" Matthew had his suspicions about the elder nation's good humor over the situation. Shouldn't he be feeling sorry for him? He sure as hell did.
A smirk lit upon the Brit's face. "Because this gives us an excuse to take a whole weekend off so we can get the stupid git laid. What do you say?"
Ahh… that was it. An excuse to slack off a couple of days.
Not that Matthew didn't blame him. It would be so nice to get out and do something for a change other than the mountains of work he always had to do. Ottawa was nice, but damn, it got old after awhile. "Okay, let's say I decide to join you on this quest. Who else is going to be involved?"
"Well, I was thinking that we could get the frog..."
"Arthur…"
"Well, this IS his department, isn't it? He'd break his neck to get over here to help out!"
"That isn't what I was getting at." God, Matthew despised it when his adopted fathers got together. All they would do is stand around and bicker non-stop! But, England did have a point. Francis would be the perfect choice for this little endeavor.
"I agree, we should have him join us. If nothing else, he can help us pick up someone for Alfred."
It sounded as though Arthur was jumping with joy from the other side. "So that means you're in?"
Matthew sighed. As much as it pained him to admit, his brother did need his help. Alfred was as clueless as they come. He'd probably try to stick his dick in the wrong hole, or something like that.
Although how he would manage to do so would be a mystery, but this was Alfred. He made the impossible, possible.
"Yeah, I'm in. Where do you want to meet up?"
Arthur punched the air in victory, finally releasing his captive from the floor; the latter's face turning an odd shade of blue by that point that went pretty nice with his eyes. "Come on down to Alfred's place. This will be our base of operations for now, unless we have to move to where it would be more convenient."
"Alright, I'll be there by this evening."
"Excellent. See you then."
They hung up, leaving Matthew with a lot to digest. He sat back in his chair, staring out the window at the Maple trees lining his property. He wondered if perhaps he should have said no, and stayed out of the whole mess. But then again, it really could be fun. He wasn't above a little debauchery.
Stretching to ease his stiff muscles from sitting in one place for so long, he stood and made his way to his room. He needed to pack, since it looked as though he would be away for a while.
An hour later, and he was headed towards the border with thoughts of the days to come in the forefront of his mind.
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France was quite proud of his track record. Over the course of his existence, he figured he had managed to bed at least four thousand people, female and male. As far as sex was concerned, pleasure was pleasure, and it could be obtained from either gender. He was an unbiased lover of all, willing to explore even the most oddest of kinks. Most he enjoyed. A few he avoided unless that was how things were going that moment.
So it was with great joy and anticipation that he accepted his long-time rival's invitation to arrange Alfred's deflowering. As he carefully sorted and organized his luggage for his trip, he thought over the phone call he had received only thirty minutes before. Since he was on vacation, he had been enjoying his time off with a bottle of fine wine, a romance novel, and the tranquility of his Parisian flat. He had just reached the good part when the phone rang. A lazy hand had reached out and groped for the receiver, finding it on the fourth ring.
"Hello? This is Francis~ How may I service you today? Hon hon hon…"
"Frog."
"Angleterre! What a nice surprise. A call from you was the last thing I was expecting. How is big brother's favorite country doing?"
Arthur growled from his end. "Can it! I'm calling you on a matter of upmost urgency. And as much as I hate to admit it, you are the most qualified to take on this endeavor. Can you get away for the weekend?"
Francis sat up, his interest piqued. "Ah, but of course I can! I am on vacation, so I am free and at your bidding."
"Perfect! Pack your things, and head to the airport. I need you here at Alfred's house as soon as possible." A sob was heard through the line, the sound originating from his favorite American.
"Oh? And what is so pressing that you would need my assistance? Wait… you didn't get something stuck in Amerique's …"
"NO!" There was a pause. "Although, if things work out the way I wish them to, there will be something up there by the weekend."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Now he was VERY interested in the situation. What was going on that would require him to go and help with sticking things in the young blonde? Ah, could it be?!
"Well, you have called on the right one, Angleterre! I must say, I feel so honored that you would come to big brother for advice on l'amore. Although, I was beginning to wonder if you two would ever decide to go to bed with each other." He was so excited for them! The sexual tension between the two was visible to even the dumbest of individuals. "We will have you two rolling the sheets in no time~"
On the other end, Arthur turned five different shades of red, his ears threatening to burn off of his head any moment. "I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TWO OF US DOING IT, YOU STUPID BASTARD! "
Francis rolled his eyes, and waved away the protests. "Oh please Angleterre, you cannot deny the attraction between the two of you. If it isn't going to be you two immediately, it will be before the weekend is over, hon hon hon~"
This time the sounds from the receiver made him jerk it away from his ear. My God, Arthur could scream loud enough for even Russia to hear!
"Frog, for the love of the queen, just get your wine-soaked arse over here! I'll explain more when you arrive. Till then."
A click signaled the line being cut. Arching an eyebrow, Francis sighed and hung up the phone, taking a moment to absorb the conversation.
Well, it certainly sounded like his vacation had made a turn for the better. There was no time to waste! Marking his spot in his book, polishing off his half-full glass of Merlot, and putting the rest back into the refrigerator, he rushed to his room to get ready for the flight and stay at the American's place.
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