Not Such a Good Idea (6/?)
anonymous
August 9 2009, 06:16:54 UTC
Canada wasn’t sure what they had talked about while they were away from the table, but once America and Netherlands came back, he could detect something slightly different in the way they interacted with each other, a touch less combative.
Russia was in the middle of rambling story about the Mongol invasion, delivered in a disturbingly cheery monotone, and apparently saw no reason to stop because of the others' return. He continued until midway through dessert, when America interrupted him. “Ivan, I think Mattie and Lukas are about to die of boredom. Maybe we could talk about something else for a little while.”
Russia broke off, looking crossly at America. For a moment, Canada had a brief flash of panic, remembering what a cross Russia usually meant. America apparently picked up on the same warning, because he quickly speared some German chocolate cake on his fork and held it out for Russia, who broke into a smile, and then ate the chocolate off the fork.
“Why don’t you ever do that, Matt?” Netherlands quipped, knocking Canada’s foot again.
Canada cocked his head curiously. “I was never invaded by Mongols.” He was glad to see everyone getting along. It seemed he might not have to worry about America pulling out the shotgun just yet.
A little while later, their waitress, who by now looked nigh on catatonic, came with their check. They went through the rigmarole about how to divide the check (Canada saw Netherlands visibly wince when America made the so-obvious-it’s-actually-painful joke about “going Dutch”), then everyone awkwardly got to their feet.
“Well, uh, we should be getting back to the hotel,” Canada said. He glanced over at Netherlands, who seemed to visibly brighten at the mention of the hotel.
“You don’t need to do that,” America protested. “I can set you guys up in a guest room at my house. Then, I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.”
“No, no that’s fine,” Canada said. “We don’t want to trouble you at all.”
“No, I insist. I-”
Russia nudged him with an elbow. He leaned down, as if he were going whisper, but then spoke in a conversational tone. “I think they want to go back to their hotel room to have sex,” he said as if it were a revelation.
Both twins blushed bright pink. Of course, Netherlands didn’t blush (Canada had yet to find anything that could make Netherlands blush), but his eyebrows did hike up high onto his forehead.
The awkward seconds stretched out as Russia beamed at them, with a distinct air of self-satisfaction.
“Uuumm,” America said, slowly.
“Yeah, we should go call for cab,” Canada said quickly.
“Right,” Netherlands echoed gratefully.
Canada smiled at his brother. “Bye, Al. This was, uh, nice.”
“No, it wasn’t.” America grinned and pulled Canada into a tight hug. “I’ll seeya later, Matt.”
America pulled back from the hug and turned to Netherlands. They stared each other down again, then he broke into a grudging smile and shook Netherlands’ hand.
“Nice to get to know you, Lukas.”
“You too, Alfred.”
Canada beamed, glad to see everyone at a little bit of peace.
As Netherlands shared a firm handshake with the shorter nation, America leaned in and murmured low enough for only Netherlands to hear, “Remember, Dutchy, you my brother wrong, you’ll be dead before you can say stroopwafel.”
“Got it,” Netherlands mumbled. He stepped away from America and towards Canada, but they only got a few feet before Russia suddenly wrapped his arms around the two nations and pulled them into a tight hug. Netherlands saw that Canada, who was having his head crushed into his Russia’s chest, was about to die of terror.
Hesitantly, Netherlands patted Russia’s back. “Uh, thank you, Ivan. It was a, um, lovely evening.”
“Yeah,” Canada added. “It’s always a pleasure.”
“Spasiba,” Russia announced grandly, pulling back and clapping them each hard on the shoulder. Canada stumbled forward and his glasses nearly fell off his face.
“Well, we should get going,” Netherlands said, taking a tiny step towards the exit.
“Yup,” Canada agreed. After a few more awkward moments, America waved and the two of them turned and walked to the front door. As soon as they were outside, Netherlands took a deep, relieved breath. “Well, that was fun.”
Russia was in the middle of rambling story about the Mongol invasion, delivered in a disturbingly cheery monotone, and apparently saw no reason to stop because of the others' return. He continued until midway through dessert, when America interrupted him. “Ivan, I think Mattie and Lukas are about to die of boredom. Maybe we could talk about something else for a little while.”
Russia broke off, looking crossly at America. For a moment, Canada had a brief flash of panic, remembering what a cross Russia usually meant. America apparently picked up on the same warning, because he quickly speared some German chocolate cake on his fork and held it out for Russia, who broke into a smile, and then ate the chocolate off the fork.
“Why don’t you ever do that, Matt?” Netherlands quipped, knocking Canada’s foot again.
Canada cocked his head curiously. “I was never invaded by Mongols.” He was glad to see everyone getting along. It seemed he might not have to worry about America pulling out the shotgun just yet.
A little while later, their waitress, who by now looked nigh on catatonic, came with their check. They went through the rigmarole about how to divide the check (Canada saw Netherlands visibly wince when America made the so-obvious-it’s-actually-painful joke about “going Dutch”), then everyone awkwardly got to their feet.
“Well, uh, we should be getting back to the hotel,” Canada said. He glanced over at Netherlands, who seemed to visibly brighten at the mention of the hotel.
“You don’t need to do that,” America protested. “I can set you guys up in a guest room at my house. Then, I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.”
“No, no that’s fine,” Canada said. “We don’t want to trouble you at all.”
“No, I insist. I-”
Russia nudged him with an elbow. He leaned down, as if he were going whisper, but then spoke in a conversational tone. “I think they want to go back to their hotel room to have sex,” he said as if it were a revelation.
Both twins blushed bright pink. Of course, Netherlands didn’t blush (Canada had yet to find anything that could make Netherlands blush), but his eyebrows did hike up high onto his forehead.
The awkward seconds stretched out as Russia beamed at them, with a distinct air of self-satisfaction.
“Uuumm,” America said, slowly.
“Yeah, we should go call for cab,” Canada said quickly.
“Right,” Netherlands echoed gratefully.
Canada smiled at his brother. “Bye, Al. This was, uh, nice.”
“No, it wasn’t.” America grinned and pulled Canada into a tight hug. “I’ll seeya later, Matt.”
America pulled back from the hug and turned to Netherlands. They stared each other down again, then he broke into a grudging smile and shook Netherlands’ hand.
“Nice to get to know you, Lukas.”
“You too, Alfred.”
Canada beamed, glad to see everyone at a little bit of peace.
As Netherlands shared a firm handshake with the shorter nation, America leaned in and murmured low enough for only Netherlands to hear, “Remember, Dutchy, you my brother wrong, you’ll be dead before you can say stroopwafel.”
“Got it,” Netherlands mumbled. He stepped away from America and towards Canada, but they only got a few feet before Russia suddenly wrapped his arms around the two nations and pulled them into a tight hug. Netherlands saw that Canada, who was having his head crushed into his Russia’s chest, was about to die of terror.
Hesitantly, Netherlands patted Russia’s back. “Uh, thank you, Ivan. It was a, um, lovely evening.”
“Yeah,” Canada added. “It’s always a pleasure.”
“Spasiba,” Russia announced grandly, pulling back and clapping them each hard on the shoulder. Canada stumbled forward and his glasses nearly fell off his face.
“Well, we should get going,” Netherlands said, taking a tiny step towards the exit.
“Yup,” Canada agreed. After a few more awkward moments, America waved and the two of them turned and walked to the front door. As soon as they were outside, Netherlands took a deep, relieved breath. “Well, that was fun.”
Canada laughed and punched him in the arm.
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Love how you wrote this, the sweetness and awkwardness are nicely balanced out. Lol~ Lukas and Matt playing footsie under the table...
Hmmm~ Has writer!anon wrote other fills involving Netherlands/Canada? Cause there was a fill ("Maple Express": http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/632.html?thread=1863544#t1863544) that also uses the same last name, van der Meer. ^^
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I did write a couple other NL/Canada fills (http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=14356234#t14356234) and (http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=14289162#t14289162), but I haven't seen that other one.
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Ah, then you should read it... Managed to come across that and WHAM! NL/CND is my new OTP. XD
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