A dance, a European gala, is where they meet up, him in his tuxedo and her in a long, white dress. They stand side-by-side, sipping champagne and occasionally talking softly to one another, swaying to the dancing music and watching nations and humans alike pass them by. Finally, Canada offers Ukraine his hand and they begin to dance.

They leave the celebration fairly early, Canada giving the excuse that he has to leave first thing in the morning, and Ukraine on claims that she needs to get some work done for tomorrow. Neither mention they are sharing a hotel room, not because they want to keep their relationship secret but because they want to maintain their privacy. So they bid farewell to their host, hail a taxi, and went arm-in-arm to their hotel.

They are holding hands and sharing brief, affectionate looks, and a young woman who passes them in the hallway asks if they are newlyweds. They both blush at that question, and Ukraine replies that no, they aren't. They're merely very close. The young woman seems to get uncomfortable at that and mutters that she understands and leaves quickly. Canada and Ukraine find their room soon after that meeting, all traces of unpleasant thoughts from before forgotten. Canada is very careful to close the door behind him.

Katyusha moves first, turning to Matthew with a smile. "I missed you," she admits sweetly.

"I missed you, too," he replies. They entwine their fingers, hands held high between them. It is almost too sweet to stand, but they see each other so rarely and are able to act as in love as they feel even less, so they must supersaturate everything they do with affection.

Katyusha shifts, leaning into Matthew, brushing the tip of her nose against his cheek. He guides the motion into a kiss, for he loves to kiss and be kissed, gentle and slow. They undo their hands, and while Matthew's go to the small of her back hers go up to softly hold his face and wind in his hair. Matthew parts his lips and Katyusha dovetails to match, to be filled with his champagne-sweet breath and then his tongue running along the roof of her mouth. As Katyusha explores the kiss she feels Matthew's hands drift lower, feathering over her hips before disappearing entirely.

He swirls his tongue around hers a final time and then parts with a shivering sigh. Without speaking, he seems to ask what she wants, hungrily but uncertainly. But Katyusha nods and he smiles and she kisses the corner of that smile in delight.

"I-I want to try something," he adds softly, flushing despite his usual openness. She looks down and sees him holding something navy blue and fabric, a blindfold. Her heartbeat stutters a little bit, excitedly thinking that Matthew may subject her to darkness.

"We don't have to," he assures, "if you don't want to. I'll wear it if you prefer," he adds. They're both quite used to the world of sex, that is clear, but this is not something only between their governments, this is special and they want to move carefully in this relationship.

"No," Katyusha finally says, "I enjoy these sorts of things." She folds her arms around his shoulders, kicking off her heels and setting her cheek against his shoulder. "I trust you."

Somehow, this is far more intimate than any, "I love you," could ever be. They flush as the words truly sink in, and then Matthew sets his hands on her waist and they carefully back towards the bed. Katyusha falls back happily, smiling as Matthew leans over her. He gently slips the blindfold over her eyes and starts to set it in place between quick pecks on her lips and cheeks.

When his hands and mouth disappear completely Katyusha takes in a sharp, excited breath, one that is warm and moist and champagne-sweet, stolen from Matthew's mouth.

His hands appear again, this time at her face, and trail down her burning cheeks to her neck to her bare shoulders. He holds her there gently, and then Katyusha feels a tickling sensation of his hair brushing along her neck and shoulders. Then, his tongue runs along her collarbone, taking extra care to poke into the dips and sensitive spots along the bone. Slow, Katyusha reaches up and carefully winds her fingers in his hair to distract herself from her pounding heartbeat.

From licking Matthew goes to peppering kisses along her neck, breathlessly asking her to sit up so he can get her dress off. She obeys, pressing tight against Matthew and sliding the tip of her nose against whatever is close to her face. When she finds the place where his neck and shoulder meet she inhales deeply, taking in the scent of his smoky cologne, one of her favourite aromas. How he discovered she loves the scent, she doesn't know -- he prefers a heavier, spicier scent, she knows from experience -- but it makes it happier than it perhaps should.

Matthew fumbles with the little clasp and zipper at the back of the dress with a good-natured chuckle as his grip slips for the second time. With nothing left to do, Katyusha begins to mutter teasing, affectionate things in Ukrainian into his neck. As if in retaliation, Matthew starts speaking in what she is certain is French, so that neither can understand each other.

Finally, the dress comes off, leaving her lying under Matthew's gaze in nothing besides her underclothes. He whispers, almost reverently, "You look so beautiful, like a bride." Katyusha's face warms at the thought, although the idea of being a bride brings other, less cheerful thoughts to mind. Matthew's silence tells her he's thinking the same thing . Without a word of warning, his pleasant warmth disappears and the mattress shifts. Katyusha immediately sits up, panicking and trying to think what it is that she's done wrong to send him away. She reaches up to tear off the blindfold, only for one of Matthew's hands to catch hers and hold her steady.

"I'm here," he assures gently. He releases her hand reluctantly and, left helpless on the bed, Katyusha can do nothing but listen. She hears a satisfied sigh as fabric rustles, the slight creak of one of the hotel room chairs as he sets down his clothes, and finally a little click. Then she feels Matthew return, his warm chest sliding against her belly and Katyusha is aware that Matthew is both nude and very, very aroused. For a moment everything is silent, then Matthew murmurs, "So beautiful." He wriggles down until Katyusha is sure he is kneeling over her hips. Through it all she is flushed with pleasure, for she loves to be called beautiful by Matthew.

His hands glide over her stomach to her bra, and she sits up again in order to give him access to the clips in the back. As always, he laughs good-humouredly and struggles to undo the tiny, frustrating clasps. Even as he makes light of his difficulties Katyusha longs to swing forward and kiss that laughing mouth. However, blinded she does not dare, so instead she laughs along with Matthew and asks him to kiss her. And while she is blinded she cannot see the look that crosses and softens Matthew's expression. She does feel his smile, though, when he gives her a light, comforting kiss.

But Katyusha doesn't want light and comfort. She pushes against him hard and opens the kiss, starts to suck on Matthew's bottom lip. At last, he returns with heat and turns what used to be a soft kiss into something far hungrier.

Finally Matthew manages to unclip her bra, despite her bring very distracting with her tongue, and brings his hands around to kneed her breasts. Katyusha pulls back and falls carelessly onto the pillows as he continues to massage her soft flesh.

Then, to her surprise, he flips her onto her front and begins to rub at the knots in her back. This kind of foreplay is new for them, but it makes sense, Katyusha has always preferred touches to her back over her breasts. Moans rise unbidden from her chest as Matthew presses circle right under her shoulder blades. Quickly, she presses her face into the pillow to muffle the noise -- she is unused to making much noise during sex, excluding that strange, almost magical afternoon in the wheat field -- and hide her reddening face.

"Do you like this?" Matthew asks uncertainly even as he rubs the base of her neck in exactly the right way.

"Y-Yes," she squeaks, lifting her head from the pillow. Her eyes are squeezed shut under the blindfold, trying to fight off overwhelmed tears.

She feels Matthew lean down and his warm breath hits the back of her ear as he murmurs soft, foreign endearments. She wants to ask what ange and couer mean (she can always guess, but she cannot be certain) when he kisses the back of her neck and turns her back over, now considerably loosened.

Carefully and lazily, Katyusha lifts her arms and sets them around his shoulders, lifting one leg to try and rub against Matthew. He groans and then, to get back at her, starts to stroke the hyper-sensitive spot under her panties and the surrounding region.

Caught up in that sensation, Katyusha doesn't notice her hold on Matthew slacken and then fall away altogether. At least, not until she feels him licking her through her panties. She holds in a surprised yelp and automatically lifts her hips to help Matthew get that final piece of bothersome clothing off. She kicks it away haphazardly and holds her legs wide apart for him.

The sensation of Matthew's tongue pressing inside her does manage to provoke a loud moan from her and she can swear he is smiling as he begins licking. Katyusha resists the urge to close her legs around him and squeeze to bring him closer and deeper, instead curling her toes and tightening all the muscle in her torso. Keeping herself still despite the overpowering urge to move makes her body burn and ache in the very best of ways, and it intensifies her focus on Matthew's mouth and tongue inside her.

Her mind buzzes and goes distant as a wave of pleasure flows over her and in her dark, warm world she can only feel a floating sensation. Starry pinpricks fade from the darkness and she becomes aware that Matthew is no longer near her.

"What does that mean?" Matthew asks. Katyusha vaguely thinks he is probably at the bedside table, cleaning off his face.


"What you said, je tebe liubliu," he tries to pronounce the Ukrainian without much success. Katyusha flushes and is exceedingly glad for the blindfold obscuring her face. She knows she is in love with Matthew, and that he reciprocates, even knows that that he has the same understanding. But to verbalise these feelings is still too intimate, too much.

He does not press the matter when she does not respond. Instead she feels him lean over her and kiss her sure and deep. The feeling of hot, hard flesh pressing insistently into her hip prompts her to push up against him and grind. Matthew chokes and sighs at the new flood of sensations and Katyusha loosens and relaxes herself in anticipation, only to feel herself spinning again. Disoriented, it takes her a moment to realise she is sprawled atop Matthew.

His hands settle on her hips and Katyusha sets her hands on his chest and sits up. Carefully, she reaches down and holds his erection steady. But he stops her before she can go down on him, saying, "K-Katyusha, I want to -- to see your eyes, could you…?"

Oh, her heart feels overfull and tight in her chest, pounding hard and fast. She sits carefully on Matthew's thighs and reaches behind her head, removing the blindfold.

Everything comes into focus as she tugs it off, and she can see the hotel room's bland wallpaper and the clean white covers of the bed she's in, the lamp on the bedside table turned on at low, and the previously half-open curtains shut tight. Below her is Matthew, his golden hair forming a tangled, mussed halo around his head, his face flushed dark pink and his lips kiss-swollen and crimson. His normally clear eyes are unobscured by his glasses and clouded and lust-darkened. He smiles up at her as their gazes meet, and Katyusha leans down slowly and tries to communicate that feeling overflowing in her heart through a kiss and gentle caresses against his face.

They pull apart and Katyusha carefully moves herself onto Matthew's erection, taking him in with a long, slow inhale.

They move together quietly, as neither have been especially loud in sex, least of all with each other, speaking through his fingers against her back and her kisses to his palm. Eye contact only breaks when Katyusha comes a second time, a sleepy feeling following the sensation of orgasm.

The sleepiness gives way to a sense of warmth and half-awareness, through which she sees that she and Matthew are lying face-to-face. So Katyusha turns over and snuggles into his arms, setting her ankles between his.

She hears the lamp click off and Matthew nuzzles his nose into her hair. One hand rests on her hip, almost stroking the skin except both are too sweat-sticky for it to work. He mutters what she thinks are French endearments and eventually, on the border of sleep, she hears him stop. Then, in the hazy, dreamlike world of the half-asleep, she hears Matthew whisper, "Je t'aime."

Before she can wonder what exactly that means she drifts off to sleep. And Katyusha dreams of a world where she and Matthew are only human, walking hand-in-hand through a golden field with a little girl with her hair in braids following dreamily behind.


A/N: What's this? More sex? Sorry guys, but I did post that historical piece on Canada/Ukraine a few days ago. Basically, this piece has been my pet project, and has gone through more than a few drafts and different ideas for it to be just right. Hopefully it's an improvement from Who Can See the Wind?

That's right, I'm putting the "het" back into Hetalia! One fic at a time!

Thank you for reading~