"Hey, England," A teenage Canada said quietly, pulling on his sleeve.
"What is it, America?" England said, looking from his work. "Oh, terribly sorry," He muttered upon seeing that it wasn't who he thought it was.
"Canada," The younger corrected, "I'm Canada."
"Of course you are." England said gently, ruffling his fair blonde hair, "Did you need something?"
"Oh, well it's just that, um-" Canada pulled on his sleeves and glanced around. "I-I wanted t-to--"
"What is it, Canada?" The elder nation huffed, "I have a lot of work to do."
"Y-Yeah, of course," Canada muttered, "I-I just found something out about America that I think you should know." England stiffened and stared at the young man, who was playing with a loose string on his shirt and had stopped talking.
"Well, what is it?" England asked, tapping a knuckle on Canada's shoulder. He jumped and seemed to have forgotten that he'd been in a conversation. Canada looked at him, then turned away.
"N-No, I c-can't tell you." He mumbled, pulling at his sleeves.
"Why not?" England asked, leaning to try to see Canada's face as an indicator of what it could be.
"I-I just can't." Canada whimpered back, "I promised I wouldn't." England rolled his eyes.
"You come in here to tell me something," The empire sighed, "Then when I ask you what it is, you won't tell me."
"I changed my mind," The province responded sheepishly, shuffling his feet and starting for the door. England sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face.
"No," He replied firmly, "Now you have to tell me." England got halfway up from his seat and grabbed Canada's arm. He pulled his protege back and turned him to face forward; Canada didn't protest, he never did.
"Ah, ah, okay," Canada mumbled, "Y-You have to promise not to-to tell America that I told you though, eh?" The blonde glanced over his shoulder and pressed his index fingers together.
"And why's that?" England asked, tilting his chair back off the floor.
"B-Because," Canada whispered, leaning close to England, "I-It's a secret." England raised his eyebrows and set his chair back down.
"A secret, huh?" He said gravely, trying not to laugh at how worried Canada was, "You'd better tell me, this could be serious." Canada nodded mutely and leaned down to whisper in England's ear.
"America," He whispered, "really really likes you." England leaned back to look at the boy.
"Tha's it?" England asked with a bit of a letdown tone of voice. He'd at least been hoping to hear something worthwhile, some tale of boyhood mischief: finding a dead body, setting something on fire, something interesting. Canada's eyes were wide is disbelief.
"N-No, you don't understand." He stammered. "America told me that," Canada glanced back over his shoulder to the ajar door, "He had a-a dream about you," England could see the color rising in the younger man's cheeks, "Ah, I mean," he leaned down and whispered in England's ear again. By the time Canada stood up straight again, England's face was scarlet, and his eyes were wide.
"Well," England cleared his throat after a moment, "I, ah, I'll have to speak with him about...this."
"So, I'm not in trouble?" Canada squeaked, with his shaking hands covering his mouth.
"No," The elder replied after a minute, not really focusing on the small blonde anymore, "Of course not. Go along now." He shooed vaguely at Canada who had left once England had started speaking.
Out in the hall, Canada glanced over his shoulder every few seconds. Every sound made him jump; his brother could be anywhere, ready to ambush him and not in the "fun" way he usually did. So occupied with the nonexistent America behind him, Canada didn't see the real one standing ahead until they crashed together. Sprawled out on the floor with his heart in his throat, Canada stared up into his brother's shadowed face. The other boy was trying to remain blank as he nonchalantly said, "Hey Canada, how's it going?" Canada gaped like a fish and scrambled to his feet. America put an arm around his brother's shoulders. Perhaps he didn't know, Canada thought, relaxing ever the slightest bit, which really wasn't much at all.
"Ah, er, I, um, everything's great, eh," He blurted out, dusting himself off and starting to sweat. "I was just, you see, I, um--"
"Tell any good secrets lately?" America cut his brother off and punched him in the stomach with a growl. Canada wheezed and doubled over. "You jerk," He emphasized this with a second punch, "That's the last time I tell you anything." America removed his arm from Canada's shoulders and stalked off, and the younger teen fell with a grunt and a groan onto the floor.
England found America sitting in his room reading England's copy of Leviathan with his pink tongue protruding from his lips slightly and a very focused look on his young face. He cursed the creaking floors of this house when America looked up, flushed, and hid behind the book in his hands. "This thing doesn't make any sense." He said, his voice cracking harshly in the middle of the statement. England could see his colony's ears turning red.
"Maybe because it's about me." England snapped, tearing the book from America's hands. He felt his cheeks grow warm staring down at the young man with wide blue eyes and slightly parted soft lips. This America quickly vanished and was replaced with an aloof, don't-tell-me-anything-because-I-know-everything America who crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
"Wish someone would write a book about me," He muttered, glaring at the far wall.
"You'll get your own philosophers when you're older." England huffed, crossing his arms as well. America's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything else. "Did you punch your brother?" England asked after a few seconds, leaning to the side in an attempt to catch America's eye.
"No." America replied gruffly, turning his head to avoid England's gaze; his ears were starting to get red again.
"Canada told me you did," England pressed on, sidestepping into America's line of vision. The young colony blushed deeply as he got an eyeful of England's crotch.
"Canada's a liar," America shot back looking up at England's face, his voice cracking again.
"A liar, huh?" England repeated, tilting his chin up slightly to look down his nose at America. "So, then, he lied to me about that little dream of yours?" America mumbled something and looked away. "Wha's that?" England asked, leaning down to America's level. The two of them stared at each other: England waiting for a concrete answer, and America staring at England. The elder opened his mouth to say something but quickly found his colony's tongue muffling his speech as America tackled him, and they both crashed to the floor. England found America to be a poor kisser and tried to at least take over the situation to make it a pleasant if awkward one; America, however, was determined to keep control. His hands stumbled to try and hold England as his inexperienced tongue tried to match with England's skilled one.
England lay paralyzed as America kissed down his chin and bit and sucked on his neck, leaving a dark mark. The colony began fumbling with the buttons on England's shirt. "I love you, England," America whispered into the empire's sharp collarbone, "So much."
"Is everything okay?" Canada's small voice crept in from behind the door as he opened it, "I heard--" The young teen froze in the doorway with wide eyes surveying the scene before him. Both parties on the floor were bright red in the face staring back at Canada, who promptly fainted on the spot with a little whimper. England quickly slipped out from under America and knelt beside the unconscious Canada.
With a relieved sigh that the boy wasn't dead, England slung Canada over his shoulder and staggered up. "You've got a lot to learn," England grunted, turning back to look at America who was sitting on his bedroom floor with wide eyes, "I'll be right back." He turned to leave, looked down at Canada's blonde head lolling from side to side, then looked back again, "Oh, and, um, don't traumatize your brother anymore." Canada's head bumped America's door frame as England stumbled into the hall and disappeared from view.