[One Shot] A Not So Silent Night
Title: A Not So Silent Night
Parings: PruCan
Summary: One Christmas Eve after trimming the tree, Prussia and Canada do some last minute present wrapping...
Additional Notes: MERRY XMAS TERRY. FIVE PAGES. BWAHAHA.
“So tell me one more time.. Why am I doing this?” The silver haired ex-nation queried, as he carefully folded the edges of the wrapping paper in the same deliberate triangle formation the blonde had already shown him.
“Because,” Matty muttered, tactfully repositioning Gilbert’s uneven fold by pretending to tape the edges for him. “You wouldn’t help me trim the tree. Said it was too girly--”
“It IS too girly. You wanted me to put lights on it, electric ones! I told you before der Tannenbaum is supposed to have REAL candles--” Prussia seethed, immediately affronted. Firstly, instead of opting for a traditional fir tree, the smaller blonde had insisted upon a wussy spruce. Begrudgingly, Prussia had relented, rationalizing that the godforsaken thing was going in Matty’s house and therefore Matty had the final veto. But then!
“I was thinking we ought to modernize a bit, eh?” Canada suggested, candidly tying a brilliant gold ribbon around France’s present while Prussia scowled at him. “You know, cut down on the possibility of a house fire and all that.”
“Modern Christmas trees--crappy, modern, American Christmas trees catch fire every year. Real candles weren’t involved.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off yet another Yule time Prussian-migraine, Matty took a few cleansing breaths and tried to reroute the topic of conversation.
“So. What did you get France?”
Temporarily derailed, Prussia flashed him a raunchy grin. “Same thing I get him every year…”
At Canada’s questioning head tilt, Gilbert rocked onto his haunches and penguin-waddled through the mine field of Christmas paper and wrapping supplies to the far side of the room where he had more or less thrown the gifts he had amassed.
The whole while, Matty was biting the side of his hand to keep from laughing out loud. Penguin-waddling. Honestly, what was next? Someone had to call shenanigans before Matty cracked a rib.
Returning with his prize raised triumphantly over his head like a crab carrying away a hunk of dead fish, he flashed the smaller commonwealth a concerned look as he fell into a fit of convincing sneezes.
“I’m..Fine.” Matty wheezed, almost in hysterics. All of a sudden, the only thing he could think of was Prussia’s face on one of those shell crabs.
The picture on the box Gil threw in his lap sobered him up pretty quick.
“What in God’s name..” Matty paused, just long enough to turn the box ninety degrees to read the side. “Is he supposed to do with this?”
“W-ell. Come on Matty. I’m sure you can use your imagination..” Prussia baited him, watching in delight as the blonde’s face glowed a brighter and brighter red.
“I’m very sure I can’t even begin to imagine..” Printed proclamations of the item’s versatility caught Canada’s eye. “Why the hell does it have SEVEN SPEEDS?”
“It’s kind of like a blender. Sometimes one speed doesn’t get the job done. I mean sure, diced vegetables are nice in a pinch, but sometimes a good, thorough puree is just what the doctor ordered.” Gil supplied readily, punctuating his explanation with a smirk and a signature brow waggle.
Staring agape, Matty was wondering if he’d heard correctly. Had his boyfriend really just made double-entendre out of a blender joke? He had, hadn’t he?
Actually, this gave new merit to America’s theory that “if it exists, there’s porn for it.”
Canada was just about to voice that deduction when the box was suddenly lifted from his lap. Prussia was on his haunches again, but Matty wasn’t laughing this time.
Tossing the box aside, Gil crawled into the smaller man’s lap, his longer legs folding under him until he was on his knees astride him.
Taken aback, Matthew inched back onto his elbows, spreading tape and gift tags around them like snow from a snow angel. Staring up at the albino god with a reverence reserved for gazing upon the divine, he carefully wet his lips.
“You get him one of those every year?” Matty murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he struggled to retain the thread of their conversation.
“Hmm?” Prussia questioned as he dipped down for a kiss, his hands ghosting up Matty’s back to hold his face. All of a sudden, he wasn’t all that interested in talking. “Some variation, sure.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s probably using your gifts with other people..?”
Abruptly perturbed, Gilbert dropped his hands to ground and sat up.
Matty shivered from the loss of warmth.
“What do you mean, ‘doesn’t it bother’ me? Why should it?”
Suddenly put on the spot, Canada stuttered nervously. “Well you and he were together for such a long time--I mean I can understand if you still.. Still..”
The weight of understanding darkened Prussia’s pink eyes. Automatically, Canada stilled and grew quiet. Blue eyes widened in fear. Not fear of him but rather fear for him. Although he and Gil had been together going on a couple years, he knew their relationship had barely begun to scratch the surface of what Prussia and France had shared.
Whenever they went out together and happened upon France and his flavor of the day, it became blaringly apparent that the older blonde knew the albino better. Because they were closer in age they had shared more. Because they had been together for hundreds of years Canada knew just by being a third party to their antics that he was in the presence of something profound. Truth be told, sometimes he found himself waiting for Prussia to grow tired of him and go back to the flamboyant Frenchman. Everyone did eventually. Russia. England. Even his own twin.
He knew intellectually that he was being unfair to Prussia by assuming his thoughts for him, and not allowing Gil to make his own choices. Just as he was being unfair to himself by worrying about what he perceived as inevitable before their time. But knowing his way of thinking was silly didn’t make him stop thinking that way--
Prussia’s hand cupping his chin brought Canada back to the present.
“You’d understand if I still had feelings for Francis?”
A tiny nod.
“Don’t be dumb.” Prussia groused, unerringly serious. “I’ve told you before and ’ll tell you now. Whatever France and I had… It was wonderful… And terrible and beautiful and terrifying all at once..” his eyes took on the same glazed quality they always did when he got to thinking about the past, and Canada bowed his head and stared at the floor. He’d always figured as much.
Again Prussia’s hand on his jaw forced his eyes skyward.
“But whatever it was, it’s in the past. It’s run it’s course. He’s moved on to bigger and better things and..” he paused perceivably, and Canada had to prompt him.
“And?”
“And so have I,” he said unexpectedly.
“What?” Canada barked, admitting a stunned laugh. “You’re serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack,” he swore, baffled as to why he was being laughed at. He was never one to spout flowery poems of devotion--that had always been France’s or even England’s forte, so the fact that he was even attempting something like this was rare.
“He’s my past. You.. You’re my future.”
Struck by the sincerity in the sentiment, Canada leaned up and kissed him. Buried his hands in that silver mane and dragged him down to the floor. Prussia had to do some serious maneuvering to keep his weight off the smaller man, but when he was finally settled on his side, he returned the blonde’s affections at leisure.
When he was finally allowed to come up for air, Canada thwarted Prussia’s advances with a hand on his chest. “We have to finish wrapping the gifts. Everyone will be arriving in the morning..”
“So they’ll get their sweaters unwrapped. Who cares?” he murmured, nipping a trail down the smaller nation’s neck with sharp little teeth.
“I care! It’s Christmas eve!”
Tugging impatiently at the neck of the blonde’s button down, he sighed and proposed a deal. “Stay with me tonight and I’ll get up early and finish your decorating while you’re entertaining.”
Fixing him in a presumptuous stare, Canada frowned. “No you won’t. You hate getting up early.”
“How are you going to tell me what I’m going to do before I even do it?” Prussia quipped in his typical irritable fashion. The look on Canada’s face wasn’t so typical, and it was enough to shove Prussia off kilter. “Oh good God, babe. What are you--are you crying!? What did I say now?”
“I’m not crying!” Canada blubbered, pawing his eyes uselessly. “Only tearing a bit, honest.”
“Look, if it means that much to you, we can finish the wrapping tonight. I’ll let you indulge me tomorrow night.” A wolfish grin. “24 hours without nooky won’t kill me.”
“But what about France and Germany? They’ll be in the guest room across from ours all weekend..” Matty protested, blushing.
“So what?” Prussia huffed, already pushing himself into a sit and reaching for Italy’s new ice cream maker. He already had several, but Canada had insisted this one was better because it was self cleaning. Germany would appreciate that.. “Let ‘em hear.”
Canada grinned, the very notion of making love where they could hear was titillating and mortifying in equal portions.
Supplying the paper and depositing the tape into Prussia’s lap with a lingering brush of fingertips, he relented. “Sounds like a plan.”
“All right then,” Prussia laughed, his worries erased from his previously creased brow like an after thought. “If he asks to join in I can’t promise he’ll crawl back to Germany un-maimed.”
Canada had to laugh as he leaned in for a quick peck. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”