[fic] Become One With Canada (Hetalia; PruCan) 18/29+
Yeaaaah late update is late. Next part will be up tomorrow, since this is so short, and only features America and England.
To be a Father (Figure) part 1
by exorcistor
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
People/pairings: America, England
Word count: around 750
Genre: general
Rating: worksafe
Note: New Prussia is a geographic location in Wilmot Township, Waterloo Region, Ontario, Canada. And this is where the plot twist makes itself known. Thank you so much, moonlighten for the help with the British English and grammar check ♥
---
This was, England realized, probably the first and only time in his life that anyone had gotten drunk faster than he had. And that that other person would be America, none the less. The younger nation had been going on about his brother and that “damn bastard kraut” for about half an hour now. England doubted that America even knew what the word meant, but that didn’t stop him from using it with feeling and weight attached to it - and use it a lot too.
Actually, England wondered a bit if Prussia had really been enough of a bastard to deserve this kind of verbal lashing, considering that each and every time England had met the ex-nation over the last few years, his behaviour had improved considerably compared to how he used to never ever take anything seriously (barely even his own conquests) or care about someone else’s feelings before. Back in the old days.
But he guessed America didn’t know that. He’d always been awful with keeping up with the history of the world outside of his own borders.
England sighed and took another long sip from his beer just as America left the topic of Prussia’s awfully smelly feet and lapsed into a ramble about how wrong it was to have to walk in on his brother and that damn German acting all lovey-dovey by the stove, or making out on the couch, or cuddling up in front of the tv.
...wait, what?
“What the hell did you just say?” England put his own beer down on top of the table so hard that he might have been afraid that he cracked the glass if he gave a rat’s arse at the moment.
America looked at him and seemed to have a small problem to focus his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Canada and Prussia were doing what the last time you visited?” the older nation demanded.
“Y’know, when you furrow your eyebrows like that, I kinda get afraid of the dark.”
“You’re always afraid of the-oh blast, America, focus. You didn’t just tell me that your brother is actually having an affair with Prussia? A romantic one. It’s not just France misinterpreting matters and spreading rumours again?”
America grimaced. “Yeah and it’s friggin’ disgusting, too. Don’t get what he sees in someone that old. His hair’s completely white n’ everythin’!”
England didn’t allow his brain to remind him that age-wise, he and Prussia were about the same age, at least compared to younger countries like America and Canada. His ego could be severely deflated another time. He also refused to acknowledge the small piece of fact it offered; that Prussia’s hair was naturally white, and not a sign of old age at all. It wasn’t relevant to the discussion, and he also didn’t feel like offering anything that put Prussia in a better light at the moment.
“America, are you perfectly sure? They weren’t simply… wrestling? Like you and Matt do sometimes? Perhaps they weren’t snogging?”
“Oh they were kissing alright. I don’t think I’ve seen a tongue shoved that far down someone’s throat since the time I walked in on France and Scotland-“
“Enough about that,” England interrupted hurriedly. He pushed his glass further away from him and reached up to rub at his temples, eyebrows furrowing even further. The headache he’d hoped would wait to settle until tomorrow was forming so rapidly he wondered if he wasn’t in the risk of having developed a fever.
God, how he’d hoped he wouldn’t have had to have this talk with either of the north-American twins. Quite naïve of him, he reckoned, but he hadn’t expected the first one of them to overstep these borders to be Canada, at least.
“I’m not ready for this…” he mumbled. On the opposite side of the table, America seemed to have been able to focus his eyes on England’s face so well that he now had troubles tearing his gaze from it instead.
“England…” he said, slowly and with a slight slur, before he giggled. “When you make that face, your eyebrows kind of look like a black McDonalds M.”
England glared at his former protégé. America threw his arms up and shrieked, while laughing.
“Dude, don’t do that, gonna give me nightmares f’r a week.”
Good lord in heaven. Why had he ever taken it upon himself to raise these boys anyway?
Right.
Land, resources and political power. He remembered now.
England just wondered if it’d had been worth the humiliation he’d have to suffer to give Canada the most embarrassing talk of a lifetime.
---
Previous | Next
To be a Father (Figure) part 1
by exorcistor
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
People/pairings: America, England
Word count: around 750
Genre: general
Rating: worksafe
Note: New Prussia is a geographic location in Wilmot Township, Waterloo Region, Ontario, Canada. And this is where the plot twist makes itself known. Thank you so much, moonlighten for the help with the British English and grammar check ♥
---
This was, England realized, probably the first and only time in his life that anyone had gotten drunk faster than he had. And that that other person would be America, none the less. The younger nation had been going on about his brother and that “damn bastard kraut” for about half an hour now. England doubted that America even knew what the word meant, but that didn’t stop him from using it with feeling and weight attached to it - and use it a lot too.
Actually, England wondered a bit if Prussia had really been enough of a bastard to deserve this kind of verbal lashing, considering that each and every time England had met the ex-nation over the last few years, his behaviour had improved considerably compared to how he used to never ever take anything seriously (barely even his own conquests) or care about someone else’s feelings before. Back in the old days.
But he guessed America didn’t know that. He’d always been awful with keeping up with the history of the world outside of his own borders.
England sighed and took another long sip from his beer just as America left the topic of Prussia’s awfully smelly feet and lapsed into a ramble about how wrong it was to have to walk in on his brother and that damn German acting all lovey-dovey by the stove, or making out on the couch, or cuddling up in front of the tv.
...wait, what?
“What the hell did you just say?” England put his own beer down on top of the table so hard that he might have been afraid that he cracked the glass if he gave a rat’s arse at the moment.
America looked at him and seemed to have a small problem to focus his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Canada and Prussia were doing what the last time you visited?” the older nation demanded.
“Y’know, when you furrow your eyebrows like that, I kinda get afraid of the dark.”
“You’re always afraid of the-oh blast, America, focus. You didn’t just tell me that your brother is actually having an affair with Prussia? A romantic one. It’s not just France misinterpreting matters and spreading rumours again?”
America grimaced. “Yeah and it’s friggin’ disgusting, too. Don’t get what he sees in someone that old. His hair’s completely white n’ everythin’!”
England didn’t allow his brain to remind him that age-wise, he and Prussia were about the same age, at least compared to younger countries like America and Canada. His ego could be severely deflated another time. He also refused to acknowledge the small piece of fact it offered; that Prussia’s hair was naturally white, and not a sign of old age at all. It wasn’t relevant to the discussion, and he also didn’t feel like offering anything that put Prussia in a better light at the moment.
“America, are you perfectly sure? They weren’t simply… wrestling? Like you and Matt do sometimes? Perhaps they weren’t snogging?”
“Oh they were kissing alright. I don’t think I’ve seen a tongue shoved that far down someone’s throat since the time I walked in on France and Scotland-“
“Enough about that,” England interrupted hurriedly. He pushed his glass further away from him and reached up to rub at his temples, eyebrows furrowing even further. The headache he’d hoped would wait to settle until tomorrow was forming so rapidly he wondered if he wasn’t in the risk of having developed a fever.
God, how he’d hoped he wouldn’t have had to have this talk with either of the north-American twins. Quite naïve of him, he reckoned, but he hadn’t expected the first one of them to overstep these borders to be Canada, at least.
“I’m not ready for this…” he mumbled. On the opposite side of the table, America seemed to have been able to focus his eyes on England’s face so well that he now had troubles tearing his gaze from it instead.
“England…” he said, slowly and with a slight slur, before he giggled. “When you make that face, your eyebrows kind of look like a black McDonalds M.”
England glared at his former protégé. America threw his arms up and shrieked, while laughing.
“Dude, don’t do that, gonna give me nightmares f’r a week.”
Good lord in heaven. Why had he ever taken it upon himself to raise these boys anyway?
Right.
Land, resources and political power. He remembered now.
England just wondered if it’d had been worth the humiliation he’d have to suffer to give Canada the most embarrassing talk of a lifetime.
---
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