APH: Technicolour
Title: Technicolour
Author: Me!
Rating: probably just PG
Characters: Australia, Canada - cameos from America, Russia, England, Greece, Japan, Hungary, Prussia, China, and a mystery guest!
Summary: At the last New Years party I had with my friends, we put rum in the Crystal Light and drank so much my friend puked into a bucket and she had gone out to Olive Garden for dinner so it smelled like pasta. I just thought I would share that with you!
“Canada’s just had a technicolour yawn.” was the first thing Australia said as he surveyed the wreckage of another “successful” New Year’s party (held, as it was annually, at a different nation’s house - this time, China’s).
Well, actually, it was the second thing. The first thing he said was, “Criminy, George, stop terrorizin’ him.”
This was directed at his koala, who was actually quite a brutal son-of-a-bitch and was perched on Kumajiro’s back as the poor polar bear sagged under its weight.
America, halfway through a beer and another song about Custard, paused and asked disdainfully, “Who?”
“A what?” was Russia’s question, who had been goading America into having more and more alcohol and was now at the appropriate phase where he felt he could attempt to coerce the blond into becoming one with him without severe repercussions.
Australia rolled his eyes. “Canada.” he intoned. “The bloke who lives above you, you ocker. He’s in the loo right now but if one of you lugs could point me in the direction of some towels, she’ll be right.”
America stared. Then he swiveled in his seat and called across the room, “England? One of your kids is talking British to me, come translate!”
Australia gritted his teeth and counted to ten. England was off wearing a lampshade as an attractive but ill-fitting skirt, and could not hear his former colony’s call.
“Never mind.” the sandy haired nation forced out with a twitchy grin. “I’ll find ‘em myself.”
“Oh. Kay.” America settled back down next to Russia’s elbow, and the massive nation handed him his beer with a look at Australia that warned against any further interruptions.
Searching behind the various doors of the upstairs yielded nothing - if by “nothing” you counted Greece passed out in one of the bedrooms, Japan wobbling around the upstairs library with a stranglehold on his camera, and Hungary and Prussia snogging in the opposite room. Finally, Australia crossed China’s path; or rather, China crossed his path, hurrying from the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt and smoothing his hair down.
“Hey, China.” Australia stopped him with a hand on his elbow - the Asian nation jumped guiltily, having not even noticed the presence of another person in the hallway.
“Oh, hello. Enjoying the party, aru?”
“Yeah, listen, about that - ”
“If you’ll excuse me I should check if...if things are going well downstairs.” China started backing up. Australia followed.
“Cool, if you could just tell me - ”
“Yao?” came a hesitant voice from within the bathroom - China stiffened, babbled something in a mixture of English and Cantonese, and fled down the stairs.
With a sigh, Australia covered his eyes with his hand and inched his way into the bathroom.
“Look, mate.” he said jovially to the light switch. “Sorry to disturb and everything but my friend’s in a bit of a pickle and I’d really like some towels...”
There was a silence - then, something fluffy was placed into Australia’s out-stretched hand.
“Well, thanks very much.” Australia muttered, and fled the bathroom so hard he nearly knocked his nose on the doorframe.
Canada was slumped over the toilet of the downstairs bathroom by the time Australia returned - at first Australia thought he had gone and passed out again, but he was muttering in French to his own vomit so the Oceanic nation figured he was safe.
“Here you are,” Australia bodily lifted his - cousin? Brother? - upright by the shoulders and draped the towel over his head. “Christ, you have no idea what I had to do to get this for you...”
“Sorry,” Canada mumbled, wiping his mouth gratefully with the edge of the towel. “Really appreciate it.”
Australia let out a sigh that ended in a chuckle, and reached out to ruffle the northern nation’s hair. “We’ve really got to build you up a tolerance.” he told Canada. “Next time you’ll come to my house and we’ll go drinking, okay?”
Canada groaned. “Don’t talk about that right now.” he burped. “‘M gonna be sick again.”
“Oops, sorry.” Australia winced as Canada retched again into the bowl.
After a few minutes, Canada’s sweaty hand found his forearm and squeezed it appreciatively.
“Thanks, though.” Canada was smiling, face pale. “I really do appreciate it. Anyone else would’ve left me alone.”
What Canada was really trying to say - anyone else would have probably not even noticed me in the corner, trying not to barf into China's vase - was lost as he began heaving again, and Australia propped himself up against the bathroom wall, staring with fondness at his often forgotten kin.
“Yeah, well, we’re family. We do this stuff for each other.”
Then, a moment later: “Did you know China’s seeing someone??”
“Wha-at? Really?! Who?”
“Dunno, I didn’t see their face...”
“...What does that mean?”
--
Note: This poor journal’s been abandoned, I fear :( Well, not abandoned, it’s just that I’m trying not to post anything until I have at least something finished from the multi-chaptered stuff. In the meantime, take this. One day I was thinking about Aus/Can bro fic because I think Australia makes the greatest bro ever, and then my dad made a joke involving the phrase, “technicolour yawn” and I wanted to write this so bad but only this bit of a New Year’s party so it’s actually not very long and I’ll stop talking now D:
Also I couldn’t think of many China pairings because I hardly write about him. So here, please take this mystery and think of it what you will.
Author: Me!
Rating: probably just PG
Characters: Australia, Canada - cameos from America, Russia, England, Greece, Japan, Hungary, Prussia, China, and a mystery guest!
Summary: At the last New Years party I had with my friends, we put rum in the Crystal Light and drank so much my friend puked into a bucket and she had gone out to Olive Garden for dinner so it smelled like pasta. I just thought I would share that with you!
“Canada’s just had a technicolour yawn.” was the first thing Australia said as he surveyed the wreckage of another “successful” New Year’s party (held, as it was annually, at a different nation’s house - this time, China’s).
Well, actually, it was the second thing. The first thing he said was, “Criminy, George, stop terrorizin’ him.”
This was directed at his koala, who was actually quite a brutal son-of-a-bitch and was perched on Kumajiro’s back as the poor polar bear sagged under its weight.
America, halfway through a beer and another song about Custard, paused and asked disdainfully, “Who?”
“A what?” was Russia’s question, who had been goading America into having more and more alcohol and was now at the appropriate phase where he felt he could attempt to coerce the blond into becoming one with him without severe repercussions.
Australia rolled his eyes. “Canada.” he intoned. “The bloke who lives above you, you ocker. He’s in the loo right now but if one of you lugs could point me in the direction of some towels, she’ll be right.”
America stared. Then he swiveled in his seat and called across the room, “England? One of your kids is talking British to me, come translate!”
Australia gritted his teeth and counted to ten. England was off wearing a lampshade as an attractive but ill-fitting skirt, and could not hear his former colony’s call.
“Never mind.” the sandy haired nation forced out with a twitchy grin. “I’ll find ‘em myself.”
“Oh. Kay.” America settled back down next to Russia’s elbow, and the massive nation handed him his beer with a look at Australia that warned against any further interruptions.
Searching behind the various doors of the upstairs yielded nothing - if by “nothing” you counted Greece passed out in one of the bedrooms, Japan wobbling around the upstairs library with a stranglehold on his camera, and Hungary and Prussia snogging in the opposite room. Finally, Australia crossed China’s path; or rather, China crossed his path, hurrying from the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt and smoothing his hair down.
“Hey, China.” Australia stopped him with a hand on his elbow - the Asian nation jumped guiltily, having not even noticed the presence of another person in the hallway.
“Oh, hello. Enjoying the party, aru?”
“Yeah, listen, about that - ”
“If you’ll excuse me I should check if...if things are going well downstairs.” China started backing up. Australia followed.
“Cool, if you could just tell me - ”
“Yao?” came a hesitant voice from within the bathroom - China stiffened, babbled something in a mixture of English and Cantonese, and fled down the stairs.
With a sigh, Australia covered his eyes with his hand and inched his way into the bathroom.
“Look, mate.” he said jovially to the light switch. “Sorry to disturb and everything but my friend’s in a bit of a pickle and I’d really like some towels...”
There was a silence - then, something fluffy was placed into Australia’s out-stretched hand.
“Well, thanks very much.” Australia muttered, and fled the bathroom so hard he nearly knocked his nose on the doorframe.
Canada was slumped over the toilet of the downstairs bathroom by the time Australia returned - at first Australia thought he had gone and passed out again, but he was muttering in French to his own vomit so the Oceanic nation figured he was safe.
“Here you are,” Australia bodily lifted his - cousin? Brother? - upright by the shoulders and draped the towel over his head. “Christ, you have no idea what I had to do to get this for you...”
“Sorry,” Canada mumbled, wiping his mouth gratefully with the edge of the towel. “Really appreciate it.”
Australia let out a sigh that ended in a chuckle, and reached out to ruffle the northern nation’s hair. “We’ve really got to build you up a tolerance.” he told Canada. “Next time you’ll come to my house and we’ll go drinking, okay?”
Canada groaned. “Don’t talk about that right now.” he burped. “‘M gonna be sick again.”
“Oops, sorry.” Australia winced as Canada retched again into the bowl.
After a few minutes, Canada’s sweaty hand found his forearm and squeezed it appreciatively.
“Thanks, though.” Canada was smiling, face pale. “I really do appreciate it. Anyone else would’ve left me alone.”
What Canada was really trying to say - anyone else would have probably not even noticed me in the corner, trying not to barf into China's vase - was lost as he began heaving again, and Australia propped himself up against the bathroom wall, staring with fondness at his often forgotten kin.
“Yeah, well, we’re family. We do this stuff for each other.”
Then, a moment later: “Did you know China’s seeing someone??”
“Wha-at? Really?! Who?”
“Dunno, I didn’t see their face...”
“...What does that mean?”
--
Note: This poor journal’s been abandoned, I fear :( Well, not abandoned, it’s just that I’m trying not to post anything until I have at least something finished from the multi-chaptered stuff. In the meantime, take this. One day I was thinking about Aus/Can bro fic because I think Australia makes the greatest bro ever, and then my dad made a joke involving the phrase, “technicolour yawn” and I wanted to write this so bad but only this bit of a New Year’s party so it’s actually not very long and I’ll stop talking now D:
Also I couldn’t think of many China pairings because I hardly write about him. So here, please take this mystery and think of it what you will.