A/N: Written for the lovely tatterdemalion. She asked for something involving Canada, this spawned from the depths of my brain and asked to be written.
...Well, more likely beat me upside the head with Russia's faucet screaming 'WRITE ME YOU STUPID WHORE' but hey.
Universe: Hetalia! Axis Powers (Possibly AU.)
Characters/Pairings:Matthew Williams (Canada), Toris Lorinitis (Lithuania), Kumajiro (A polar bear), MatthewxToris
Prompt:Gift fic for my new friend.
Rating: PG-13, borderline R. Rated to be safe.
Warnings: Crack pairing, boys liking boys, short flashes of scenes not meant for children, innuendo, and pancakes.
I don't own anything. Please no sue. D:
Well, this was awkward.
Maybe not so much awkward as really uncomfortable and strange and, well, not normal-
No, it was awkward.
Matthew groaned quietly and rested his forehead on his arms, only lifting it when Toris walked up, holding a glass of orange juice and a few Advil, both of which the Canadian happily accepted.
Okay, now that his head was stopping that damned pounding, it was time to think.
So, apparently, he had gotten drunk after another incident with his brother (Don't get him wrong, he loved Alfred dearly but he could be so thicksometimes...) and had sex with one of the Baltics. Russia's favorite, nonetheless.
Who was now standing in his kitchen, wearing nothing but the red sweatshirt Matthew had discarded the prior night, making pancakes.
'Okay, so how to deal with this...' Matthew thought, sipping absently on the glass of orange juice and watching the quiet Lithuanian bustle about his kitchen.
Toris was very kind about the whole thing, smiling and assuring him it was alright, he didn't mind, please don't worry about it, the entire time Matthew had been apologizing, gently ushering him into the kitchen with soft words and softer touches.
It wasn't all bad- after all, it wasn't like Toris would tell Ivan, he was making him pancakes, and he had nice, pale legs and a very nice ass-
Matthew nearly spewed orange juice everywhere when he realized he had just thought that.
Toris turned to look at him, obviously startled. "Are you alright, Matthew?" He asked, sounding worried as he moved towards the Canadian, the hem of the sweatshirt brushing softly against the skin of his thighs, and suddenly he was tempted to nip at them to see how the smaller man would react-
And it was time to stop that train of thought.
"I-I'm fine. Just went down the wrong pipe." Matthew stammered out, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The brunette still looked slightly worried, but returned the smile and returned to cooking batter.
As soon as Toris' back was turned, the Canadian covered his face with his hands, feeling his face heat up in a blush.
Maybe Arthur had a point about him spending so much time with Francis...
Matthew jerked, looking up at the Lithuanian. "Ah- what?"
Toris frowned. "I said, the pancakes are ready, where do you keep the syrup?" He stepped towards the blond, pushing the almost too-long sleeve off one of his wrists before placing it on Matthew's forehead. "Are you alright? You feel a bit warm..."
"Ah..." His glasses had slipped down, making the pretty brunette's face appear slightly blurred, but the shifting of the sweatshirt caught his eye. Right on Toris' shoulder, a soft purple bruise stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin-
-his teeth sank lightly into the flesh, the legs wrapped around waist tightening as the quiet boy beneath him cried out in response, a pretty, lyrical noise-
Before he knew what he was doing, Matthew leaned forward and placed a small kiss, right on the bruise. He didn't know why, but he felt the need to, almost as if to assure himself this was real.
Toris stood perfectly still for a moment, not even breathing, before exhaling with a small shudder. "M-Matthew?" His voice was slightly strained.
The blond jerked backwards, catching sight of Toris' heavy blush. "Uh... Sorry." He offered, soundly sheepish and surprisingly husky.
"So you said the pancakes were ready?"
"Ah!" The Lithuanian started, before nodding. "Yes! Let me get them..." He turned and moved back towards the stove.
Matthew couldn't help but watch the way the hem of the sweatshirt moved across the smaller man's pale thighs. He could get used to this, waking up to delicate smiles and soft green eyes. He smiled, before standing to help Toris find the syrup, patting Kumajiro on the head when he finally padded into the kitchen.
Maybe this wasn't that awkward after all.