And now for something completely different! Prompt: "But I don't love America! I love you!"
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Canada was in love with England. That, in and of itself, was not a bad thing. A little sad, perhaps, but not outright bad. If anything, it made him eager to improve their foreign relations and willing to follow his former-empire when other nations were rebellious or only grudgingly obedient.
But, of course, his love had problems, hindrances. He was a free nation, he had to prove he did not carry the imperialistic sentiments of old. Australia and New Zealand stood at England's side at Suez, somewhere Canada desperately wanted to be, but no. He did not support either England or France in the matter, and he would not allow such an archaic, violent display in modern times. But his men still wore the Union Jack on their uniforms and Egypt wouldn't let them fight.
There was another problem. Canada's twin brother, America. Although they were strikingly different, one far too soft-spoken and ignored, the other overenthusiastic and the centre of attention, they were also very much the same. When one wanted something, it was certain the other would want it, too. The timing was often very separate, their reactions invariably marking their differences once again, but if Canada had fallen in love it was a promise that eventually America would feel the same way.
When someone was quiet, fairly passive, and regularly ignored, they learned to listen and watch like the best of them. Canada observed his fellow nations so well some suspected he was a mind-reader when he got the chance to speak to them. And, true to form, he saw America slowly soften his mocking attitude towards England. Saw America begin to turn a little red and stammer a touch when England offered him a reluctant compliment. Saw America stiffen when England gave him a pat on the back, caught like a deer in the headlights.
But America was denser than uranium and only half as useful, so he didn't seem to realise his own want for England. Good, it made Canada feel a little better about the whole mess he knew he was going to get himself into. But only a little.
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Canada and England had a long-going tradition that whenever they met up for trade agreements or had to share a room at the World Meetings (which was surprisingly frequent, as people seemed to understand the two nations were immensely sedated around each other) Canada would prepare them a hearty Canadian breakfast. The exact contents varied based on what was on hand, but most of the time there were pancakes, thick slices of bacon, hash browns Canada spiced with curry powder (he'd grown fond of the flavour after a trip to India), the fruit of the season, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and cold milk, only sometimes from a bag. And, of course, his famous maple syrup.
England leaned over his plate to eat that final slice of pancake, slathered in the remaining maple syrup on his plate. Delicious. The former empire had never been so glad that Canada had been a French colony first.
"You're quite the cook," England declared, and though Canada had heard the compliment a hundred times before he still flushed a little and smiled.
"I'm still not as good as Papa," he replied humbly, "and my food isn't that interesting…" Canada was far too passive, but he just couldn't seem to accept the praise with a "thank you" and continue on with life.
England just smiled and licked the syrup on his lips off. It wasn't meant to be a sensual or flirtatious action at all, as far as Canada could tell, but he watched with far more fascination than was necessary as England's tongue ran over his lips and the satisfied smile that appeared at the taste of maple syrup. He flushed again and cast his eyes downwards.
The silence that sat between them was quiet and natural, like autumn leaves fluttering to the ground or a soft summer drizzle. It didn't shatter when England noisily drew his chair back, it merely retreated for a moment before sweeping back in to muffle the sound of England's socked feet against the carpeted floor of their shared hotel room.
"Thank you," he said gently, placing a hand on Canada's shoulder for a moment before heading to the sink to begin cleaning up.
"I'll help you with that," Canada said suddenly, standing and making his way towards the sink as well.
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Canada's relationship with England had always been a quiet, familiar thing. Despite of all the tensions that had run between them at many points in Canada's history (Suez, British Columbia, negotiations with America…) it was one piece of certain stability in their lives and sometimes chaotic foreign relations. England would always be willing to brew a pot of tea and Canada was prepared to make pancakes even at three in the morning (which he'd done before, albeit for his twin).
So why had Canada insisted on disturbing the status quo by telling England that he… His throat sealed and his eyes stung in spite of himself. "I-I should tell you…" He choked, because the selfish part of him didn't want to finish his sentence. "America feels the same way." And he hated that he had that need to make things fair, because if he was selfish for once in his life maybe, just maybe…
Then England smiled fondly at the young man at touched his hand reassuringly. "But I don't love America." Canada's eyes flicked up to meet his. "I love you."
There was no dramatic kiss or sweeping embrace. The quietness that had defined Canada wouldn't allow for that. Instead he placed his hand on top of England's and smiled slowly. He'd worry about everything else, how his twin would cope (how he would cope with denying the twin he so loved the one person he wanted) later. Right now he just wanted to sit in silence like December snowfall.
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A/N: I seriously ship this pair. I don't even- I mean, father-son, romantic, drinking buddies, I just like it when these two interact. Call it a weakness, if you will.
Also, shaky characterisations ahoy! In my defence, first time writing this pair and also done at least four months ago. If not more.
My mind was blown today. I discovered New Zealand is the most peaceful country in the world this year. Denmark is second. Yes.
Thank you for reading~