[Hetalia] "For a Minute"
Title: "For A Minute"
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America
Character(s): America/Canada
Table/Prompt: Time/2. Minute @ hetachallenge, 96. Writer's Choice: Minute @ lover100
Word Count: 542
Rating: PG
Summary: War of 1812. Canada has gone to their special place to think about him. What does he want from him? What does America want back?
A/N: Trying to get back into the swing of things for my War of 1812 fic that has been languishing since November. ><;;
Canada sat at the side of the river where he and America had always spent time together. The place seemed foreign to him. He looked across to the tree that they would sit under when it was hot or a rainy day. He got up and dusted off his pants. If forced him to look at the deep red of his uniform jacket. It had been this way before, red coat versus blue. Once, not that long ago, it had been America wrapped in England's colors coming at him. He sighed, how many times would they have to do this? What cruel twist of fate kept him from his other half?
He looked up and hopped across the natural bridge of boulders, the cold water lapping at his boots. He was on America's side now. He made his way over to the familiar tree and pressed his fingers against the rough bark. It had been beneath this tree where everything had changed in a single minute. They had been laughing and wrestling as they usually did. America had managed to pin him to the ground. That was hardly unusual, but it had been the look in America's eyes as his body weight bore down on Canada.
His eyes said, "Mine."
Before Canada could even process what he felt, America's rough lips were on his. Even now, standing here years after it had happened, he didn't know if he had felt fear or lust. All he knew is that he had kissed him back, and that could never be undone.
He clenched his fist against the bark. He missed the easy smiles and the unrestrained confidence that America seemed to breathe in and out. He missed their quiet conversations along the river, teasing and laughing and sniping with each other. He could remember times when this wasn't so complicated, they could be together and that was that. England didn't know and therefore he didn't have a say in it. But he knew now, and that could not be undone either.
Canada shook his head. Now was not the time to be worrying about this. They were at war. England told him the complicated feelings were for later. England had said, America is not for you.
He turned abruptly from the tree and stopped dead in his tracks. He was looking into the face of the last person he wanted to meet here, one that made him feel twisted and confused. America looked back at him, his face mirroring Canada's shock. They stood in silence before America opened his mouth to say something. Canada held up a hand to stop him. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face into his southern neighbors coat and just breathed him in. He felt America doing the same and they just stood there. Canada wondered if America was feeling the same ripping pain that he was as he held him in his arms. He could feel England's disapproving eyes staring at him from wherever he was. He pushed him out of his mind, this moment wasn't for England. It was for him and America.
For a few minutes he wanted to pretend they weren't at war.
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America
Character(s): America/Canada
Table/Prompt: Time/2. Minute @ hetachallenge, 96. Writer's Choice: Minute @ lover100
Word Count: 542
Rating: PG
Summary: War of 1812. Canada has gone to their special place to think about him. What does he want from him? What does America want back?
A/N: Trying to get back into the swing of things for my War of 1812 fic that has been languishing since November. ><;;
Canada sat at the side of the river where he and America had always spent time together. The place seemed foreign to him. He looked across to the tree that they would sit under when it was hot or a rainy day. He got up and dusted off his pants. If forced him to look at the deep red of his uniform jacket. It had been this way before, red coat versus blue. Once, not that long ago, it had been America wrapped in England's colors coming at him. He sighed, how many times would they have to do this? What cruel twist of fate kept him from his other half?
He looked up and hopped across the natural bridge of boulders, the cold water lapping at his boots. He was on America's side now. He made his way over to the familiar tree and pressed his fingers against the rough bark. It had been beneath this tree where everything had changed in a single minute. They had been laughing and wrestling as they usually did. America had managed to pin him to the ground. That was hardly unusual, but it had been the look in America's eyes as his body weight bore down on Canada.
His eyes said, "Mine."
Before Canada could even process what he felt, America's rough lips were on his. Even now, standing here years after it had happened, he didn't know if he had felt fear or lust. All he knew is that he had kissed him back, and that could never be undone.
He clenched his fist against the bark. He missed the easy smiles and the unrestrained confidence that America seemed to breathe in and out. He missed their quiet conversations along the river, teasing and laughing and sniping with each other. He could remember times when this wasn't so complicated, they could be together and that was that. England didn't know and therefore he didn't have a say in it. But he knew now, and that could not be undone either.
Canada shook his head. Now was not the time to be worrying about this. They were at war. England told him the complicated feelings were for later. England had said, America is not for you.
He turned abruptly from the tree and stopped dead in his tracks. He was looking into the face of the last person he wanted to meet here, one that made him feel twisted and confused. America looked back at him, his face mirroring Canada's shock. They stood in silence before America opened his mouth to say something. Canada held up a hand to stop him. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face into his southern neighbors coat and just breathed him in. He felt America doing the same and they just stood there. Canada wondered if America was feeling the same ripping pain that he was as he held him in his arms. He could feel England's disapproving eyes staring at him from wherever he was. He pushed him out of his mind, this moment wasn't for England. It was for him and America.
For a few minutes he wanted to pretend they weren't at war.