Author's note: I actually wrote this right after Canada won the hockey game during the Olympics (late upload is late). I've been wanting to write this pair again for awhile and this just provided me with the right motivation ^^ I was actually cheering for Team USA but...congrats, Canada. We went down fighting. :'D
"OH MY GOD NO!" America screamed as the Canadians around him, including his brother, jumped to their feet in a giant swarm of red and white. Everyone around was cheering, except America. He was in disbelief as his brother grinned and stuck his right index finger up in his face.
"IN. YOUR. FACE."
"Yeah, well, at least my guys put up a fight!" he said defensively. "You were totally about to piss your pants just now!"
Canada continued smirking. Nothing his brother said was going to stop his good mood.
America pouted in his chair before standing up like the other lone Americans in the stands and making a beeline to leave before he was attacked by some rabid Canadian fans. Canada noticed and frowned, stopping in his celebration. He followed America until he saw him sitting alone on a bench. Several Canadians were shouting and teasing the superpower for his USA jersey.
"Suck our hockey sticks!" one happily drunk group laughed.
"Hey." Canada sat next to America. "It was a good game, eh?"
"I guess," America mumbled.
"You still won silver. And that gives you the most medals won ever. You should be proud."
He smiled slightly. "Yeah…my team's pretty awesome, huh?"
"Annoyingly so," Canada laughed. He patted his brother on the back. "No hard feelings?"
"No hard feelings." He leaned his head on the taller nation's shoulder.
"So that means you'll be coming to my room tonight, right?" Canada said after a long silence.
"What?" America looked at him in confusion.
"For the…post-game celebration." He got a teasing smile on his face as America realized just what he was saying.
"Mattie, I feel bad enough," he whined.
"What are you saying?" Don't you dare say I'm bad in bed, Al. I'll kill you.
"I'm not in the mood…"
Canada glared at him. "Oh but when you beat me last weekend, it didn't matter if I was in the mood or not, you just jumped me anyway!"
"Well…that was different!"
"How so?!" He stood up, enraged.
"Whoa, whoa! Calm down, Matt!" America leapt to his feet and put his hands up. "Take a chill pill!"
"I won't, Alfred! I've been waiting for this for two weeks and now-you-"
America looked around and noticed they had a crowd of people, mostly Canadians, watching them argue. He saw two Americans hovering nearby, perhaps hoping to come to his rescue should all the Canadians decide to tackle him.
"I'm sorry, Matt," he muttered. "I'm…I'm being selfish."
The rage in his brother's eyes seemed to dissipate. "I…I guess I am too."
"Well, you won, you kinda deserve to be," America chuckled.
"I'll be there."
Canada blinked and saw the small blush on the other's face. "You mean it?"
"Want me to wear my jersey?"
He eagerly nodded and grinned. "You'll be singing my anthem too."
"What?! Dude, that is so uncool!"
"My win, my rules, eh."
Hours later, America was groaning again, but for a completely different reason. Canada grunted behind him, grabbing onto his hips roughly. "Sing, Al! C'mon!"
Biting his lip before gasping as his brother hit his prostate, America cried, "O Canada!"
Canada moaned, thrusting forward harder.
"Our home and…fuuuuck…native land…" America's head hit the mattress. "Matt, I can't do this!"
"You can and you will," his brother hissed, digging his nails into America's ass.
"Ah! True patriot love…oh god—in all thy sons command." He arched his back, clenching his fists in the bed sheets. "With glowing hearts we see thee rise!" Canada shoved against him faster. "Goddammit, Matt, not so rough!"
"Shut. Up," the Canadian panted back. "Keep singing."
America whined and then growled as he thrust back against his brother. "The True North strong and free! Owowowowow!"
"You big baby."
"Your dick's too fucking big!"
Thrust. "You're not done yet."
"Your anthem's too long!"
Canada rolled his eyes and pushed America further down onto the mattress. "Stop complaining, eh."
"From far and wide," he gasped, "O Canada! We stand on guard for thee!"
Another grunt came from Canada as he rolled his hips and reached down to grab America's dripping cock. America made some interesting sounds and bucked forward before shouting, "God keep our lands glorious and free! Oooooh…"
"Two more lines, Al. C'mon."
"Nnf…O Canada, we stand on guard for thee…M-Matt, f-fast…er…"
Canada's hand pumped ruthlessly and sped up his thrusting as he felt his orgasm getting ready to release. "Yes, yes, yes…" he chanted.
"O Canada," America whimpered, fucking his brother's hand, "we stand on guard…for…thee!"
"YES!" Canada squeezed the head of America's cock as he felt himself reach his climax, thrusting his hips wildly to ride out his orgasm.
America moaned loudly, cumming all over Canada's hand and the sheets. He felt Canada pull away and collapse beside him. Rolling over, he wrapped his arms around Canada's waist. "Congrats," he whispered, kissing the side of the other's neck.
Canada smiled and closed his eyes. "The closing ceremonies are in an hour. We should probably get down to the arena."
"So soon? We can't bask in our afterglow?" He flashed that megawatt grin of his and Canada felt his cheeks burn.
"Maybe a few more minutes."
"Oh? So I have enough time to reward you?"
"What do you-?" He stopped when he saw America crawling down to the foot of the bed and spreading his legs apart. The American winked between his legs and Canada felt his mouth go dry. "Al…?"
"The gold medalist deserves a good blow," he teased. "Unless of course you wanna hurry over to BC Place…"
Canada had never seen his cock get so hard so fast.