Title: Crocodile Tears (or: Three-Hundred-Seventy Years Of Canadian Cutefacing)
Character/Pairing: France/Canada, America, England.
Word count: 1005
Author's note: Hetalia kink meme: Canada (or France) using tears to manipulate the other.
It was a crash that drew France to the scene. The mirror he had brought with him was broken into shards, glass spread over the vanity and floor. A lay in the corner, as if it were hiding. Both boys stared at the scene with a kind of horror, gauging France's reaction.
"Alfred! I told you not to play inside!"
"Matt was playing too!" Alfred said. "He was the one who hit it into the mirror! Seven years bad luck for him!"
"Matthieu, is this true?" France queried.
Matthew's face contorted. He made a anguished sound at the back of his throat. "Do you think I would do that, papa? That I'd break what's precious to you?"
"I'm not sure. You're generally a good boy, but you're young...."
Matthew buried his face in his hands and broke into tears.
"Papa doesn't believe meeee!" Matthew wailed.
"Alfred, go sit in the corner. I'll deal with you later. Shame on you for lying about your brother."
Alfred begrudgingly obeyed.
"Mon Dieu, you two will be the death of me. Come here, it's ok, Matthieu. I'm not angry at you."
Matthew climbed into Francis' arms. He turned around and stuck his tongue out at America, who fumed in the corner. Strike one victory for the French.
"Not a chance!"
"But, Arthur!" Matthew protested.
"Canada, you may start trade agreements with any other nation except the frog. Any of them. Strike that, avoid Spain too."
Canada's lower lip quivered. "You don't trust me?"
Arthur balked. "Now, Matthew..."
"I've been so good, too." Matthew's voice broke in a sob. He buried his face in his hands and let out a keening sound. England patted him on the shoulder, attempting a semblance of comfort with there, there, but that only made Canada cry harder. People were staring, staring in ways that he could swear were accusatory.
Finally, he sighed and gave in. "Fine. You can set up relations with the frog...but if he tries anything, anything at all, you're to pull away. Understood?"
Canada wiped away his tears and gave a shaky nod.
When the agreement was signed, France and England spent most of the time glaring at each other. Or to be more precise, France smirked while England did most of the glaring. Canada's tears were suspiciously gone and replaced by a far sunnier disposition. England swore the whole time the ambassador signed the agreement – his ambassador to hammer in the fact that it was his colony here, not France's.
Still, the way that bloody frog was grinning, you'd think he had won a war.
For a short while, the world's eyes had been on Canada, and they had remembered him. He had shone in the Olympics, in a way that might just gain him some visibility when the fires had faded.
France's hair was still damp from the shower. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, which was more than he usually wore. His bags had been packed the night before. Everything was mostly in order, though he certainly didn't envy whoever would have to wash those sheets. Mon Dieu, the victory had given him some stamina. Not that he'd complain. In fact, it was quite the pleasant surprise.
From the side came a stealth attack. Matthew bit at his earlobe, and grinned playfully at him. It used to be that he'd have to lean up to steal a kiss, but now he had to stoop just a tad. Silky French hair brushed against his cheek, and he let his fingers run through the tresses while he savored the moment.
"Good morning to you, too. How does it feel to be victorious?"
"Very good. I like it a lot. It should happen more often," Canada said.
"You'll have to wait a few years, mon amour. Unless you start declaring wars."
Canada giggled. "Who would I fight?"
"Angleterre, for old time's sake?"
"Not a chance," Matthew laughed.
Francis sighed with mock severity. "It was worth a try."
Matthew wrapped him tight in an embrace. "Stay a little longer. I'll pay for your return ticket back."
"Ahhh, I would, but important meetings...." Francis said. He rubbed at his neck and focused on the calender at the bedside.
Matthew stepped away, buried his face in his hands and started to sob.
"Now I know you're just faking it," France said gently. "Have you fallen out of practice?"
Matthew peeked from between his fingers, and smiled hopefully. "It's a been a while. Is it working?"
Francis pushed the hair from Matthew's face and kissed him. "Mon chéri, you know it is."
"Then stay, or I might cry for real."
"However can I resist when faced with a threat like that, hmm?" France chuckled
Canada just smiled and kissed him again.
1640: the only real significance is that Quebec had a fairly sizable increase of population that year. Technically, France would've been probably calling them both Nouvelle-France at this point, which is why I segued into names so history!anons won't hit me with frying pans. While there's a lot of pictures of tiny!France sobbing at France leaving, the Treaty Of Paris wasn't too far from the Revolutionary War and helped lead to it (taxation, yo.) America is shown as being at least teenaged during the Revolutionary War, and Canada is about the same age, so... I theorize that Canada was at least teens by then.
2: 1893: Wherein Canada started to further its foreign interests, despite England's legal barriers on that aspect. Agreements with France, yada yada. Actually it's summarized from a period between 1880-83, but Hetalia tends to do that.
3: 2010 should be self-explanatory, unless you really lived under a rock.