fic: Snow Birds And Scarves
Nov. 11th, 2011 08:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Snow Birds And Scarves
Series: Hetalia
Character/pairing: America/Ukraine, bit of France/Canada
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2077
Summary: America attempts to best winter in his own questionable ways, Canada mocks him with his superior winter skills, Ukraine tries to make it better, and the French countryside is head tiltingly kinky.
Author's note:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly: any, so long, clear skies. Some of the jokes are HIMYM inspired, because how could that joke not be used? Happy winter holidays, finch00!
America decided right about November that he was going to become a bear. Not a big hairy gay dude, but an actual grizzly. Of course, being randomly furry and teethy and awesome was a plus, but mostly he wanted their mad hibernating skills.
Last year there'd been crazy amounts of snow, and even if he shoveled like a boss, because that's what heroes do, he didn't want to. He could admit there was some fun to be had with snowmen, and snowball fights were always pretty cool–he and Prussia had a pretty epic one the other year or so. But it was just so damn cold and grey and sleety and yucky. Plus, in the city the snow became this gross slushy toxic sludge thing that got stuck to his shoes. So not a freaking winter wonderland.
So America prepped. He upped the portions for a week, got a big furry fake bear blanket and huddled under it and waited for the magic to come. It could be pretty cool, actually. He might have awesome dream adventures and when he woke, it would be sunny and warm. It was a win-win situation. Plus he'd turn into a freaking bear How cool was that?
So he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
When he pulled the blanket back, still not an awesome bear, Tony was looking at him.
"Fucking hell," he said.
"Yeah, I know," America said.
So much for that plan.
*
America's next big plan involved shutting out the winter. He printed out sunny locales in France, who actually wouldn't mind if his obscene bare landscapes all over the place, blocking out that cold gray yuck. Except, he never took into account what might happen if other countries saw what he'd done to his house.
Especially Canada.
Canada blushed, and tugged his red and white knit cap down fruther. "W-what's with the French scenery porn?" He said. He turned away from a particularly flirty and vivacious vineyard sprawled out over his windows like a pinup.
"I'm totally beating winter this time! I'm going to hire someone to get me food, and then I'll just stay in and play video games until Spring comes!" America said. He put both thumbs waaay up and winked.
"What about Thanksgiving? And Christmas, and New Year's, and Valentine's day?" Canada said. He was still flushed, and trying to avert his eyes from the scenery.
America cringed. He'd miss turkey day! And egg nog! And champagne and chocolate, and—
"I can't hibernate, not if it means missing chocolate and champagne!" America burst out.
"Well, yeah," Canada said. "And there's two Thanksgivings, don't forget that."
"Yeah, mine and your weird early one," America said.
"Yours is the weird one," Canada said, with a frown.
"Ff, suuure, whatever," America said. "Hey! I could go down south for the winter!"
"You man, like the senior citizens do? Pussy," Canada said. "You call this snow? We go around in shorts in this weather. My neighbor is going to be having a barbeque because it's so warm."
America flinched at this. On one hand, warmth and girls in bikinis and well built guys. On the other hand, the thought that Canada could be beating him in anything was unsettling. It was his personal job as a brother to mock him and best him in everything, so Canada being more hardcore about anything than him meant that something was wrong in the world.
Which pretty much killed the idea of him chilling and doing shots with Mexico again down on the beach.
America punched his fist into his palm to punctuate his awesome point. "I'm a hero, I can take a little snow!" America said.
"Little is right," Canada said. "This is some seriously wussy snow."
He had peeled away one of the pictures, and it'd then disappeared, though his coat looked a bit thicker somehow.
America stopped paying attention about then, because he was totally distracted by the plans of how he was going to survive this winter while not being a bear or a snow bird. But Canada kept cleaning up, and more of the posters and stuff went...somewhere.
"Even a picture of the Eiffel tower?" Canada said, blushing even more. "Jeez, you probably don't even put passwords and fake folders for your porn."
"Why would I? It's not like Tony is going to mess with my stuff," America said.
Canada just shook his head.
*
She heard of it by sheer accident, when Canada was smoothing out and storing some head tiltingly kinky pictures of the French countryside. He blushed when he saw, and muttered something about j-just taking care of them for a friend.
She didn't judge, of course. She may have even had some pictures of the Florida and California coastline to get her through the winter.
Not that she'd admit to them publically, mind you.
But she'd been a sister long enough to know when to change the subject after stepping into a compromising and embarrassing moment.
"Of course they aren't," she said soothingly. "Now, you wanted that cookie recipe?"
"No, really, it came from America. He was apparently trying to make it through winter by...well, pictures," Canada said.
"Ah, did he?" She said.
"Yeah, I think it was plan B, after trying to turn himself into a bear," Canada said.
She couldn't help but laugh. America was so whimsical, so cheerful and brilliant in his own crazy ways.
That was about when the plan started to form in her mind.
*
She picked up several skeins of yarn quite cheap, yet in the kind of secrecy that hadn't been around since the Soviet union. She put the red yarn in, as casually as if she were slipping something obscene in between the potatoes and milk.
She convinced her sister to purchase the white yarn, the most innocuous of the bunch. She’d made plenty of white mittens and white scarves for them. Belarus looked suspiciously at her, but then she always looked like that, save for when her cold stares thawed slightly around Russia.
On her own, she'd gotten newer skeins of the fluffy sorts of yarn made from faux fur. She began knitting early every year, for even if her family could afford gloves of their own nowadays, old habits died hard.
She'd always found knitting a very relaxing practice, though this time, she kept biting her lip and blushing from time to time as she began to knit the stripes. Stars were a bit too difficult for her, but she hoped he'd like it, none the less.
She'd tried for gloves, but she couldn't make the mental picture of perfectly formed gloves come to anything but a pair of misshapen mittens which she kept for herself. The scarf and hat, however, came out rather well.
By the time she had finished all of her projects, the ground was covered in snow.
*
The next time she visited Canada, took the package along with her, carefully wrapped up in blue and white wrapping paper with snowflakes on it.
She'd barely exchanged greetings and how have you been before bringing out the package. Already she could feel her heart racing. It was going to be anonymous, she told herself. Canada would deliver it, and that would be that.
"If you could....Please pass this on to him," Ukraine said. Before Canada could even take it, a voice called from the back room.
"Pass this on to who?" It was too loud and cheerful. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the package.
Canada looked from him to her. Ukraine clung more tightly to the package. For a moment, she wondered if he'd cover for her in this one, if he'd get just how embarrassing this would be for her.
He didn't.
"Well, looks like he's already here," Canada said. "So, I'll just let you give it to him that way, right?"
She could only stand there, dazed with embarrassment at the outcome.
"I'm off for a beer, you want one?" Canada asked.
She was about to refuse as she usually did whenever anyone offered her something, but it struck her at the moment that she could really use some alcohol to numb the embarrassment that made her want to curl in a corner and bury her face in her knees.
"Yes. Yes, please–" she said, her voice rising in desperation.
"Ooh! Me too, bro," America called.
"So, stuff?" America said hopefully.
"Ah, yes..." she stiffly handed out the package.
America ripped the wrapping paper off in remarkable time. Pieces of blue and white flew everywhere. He really was just like a child, she thought, and smiled to herself.
"Ooh, these look warm," America said. He unfolded the scarf and lifted it up to get a better look. "And it's got my colors, too!"
"Ah...I heard you were unhappy with winter, so I made these. No big deal, really," she said. She laughed nervously.
"No, it's a huge deal! Thanks a ton," America said. "I'll be a lot warmer this way. And it's really soooftt–"
He rubbed his face against the faux fur tufts which made up the outer rim of the hat, and scarf.
"I'll wear it all the time and my ears won't get cold!" He said.
"Th-there was supposed to be mittens too, but they didn't turn out well. And a sweater, but I didn't have the sizes–" She knew she was babbling, but just couldn't stop. "So. I, ah. Guess I should be going, really I didn't mean to intrude on family time–"
"Nah, it's no biggie. I just came over to watch the game tonight. Why don't you stay? We're having beer and pizza," he said.
"Really?" she said. "If you really wouldn't mind...."
"Nah, I'd love for you to stay. I'll save a spot for you right next to me!" America said. He winked, and
Ukraine couldn't help but blush. He was so handsome and adorable and he was winking at her. And when she tried to pass it off as just his own quirks, her inner rationalizations were cut short when he put his arm around her on the couch.
All she could think was that the embarrassment was well worth it.
Well, that and she owed Canada a debt of thanks.
And for once, she even knew how to repay it.
*
So, Canada may have been epic at winter, but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time looking at the sunny, gorgeous, wonderful French countryside and landmarks. He was just smoothing out Gorges du Tarn when he heard a sensual chuckle behind him that made him freeze.
"This is certainly an interesting turn of events," France said. He looked thoughtfully at the posters, and Canada wanted to crawl in a closet and just forget this ever happened. Of all the people to walk in on his posters–But France had already seen him, already knew–
"F-France–! What are you doing here? Y-you never come over in winter," Canada said.
"A little bird told me I should come visit you. And really, I am glad I did. Gorges du tarn? And the Eiffel tower too? You're quite a naughty boy, Canada," France said.
Canada blushed and looked away. "I-I was just taking care of them for America. Really."
"Of course you were," France said.
He undid one button, then two, then three of his dress shirt. Canada couldn't look away as more of France's chest was revealed. "Perhaps you'd like a private tour?"
Canada blushed.
"I'll take that as a yes?" France said.
'Th-think of it more as an 'Oh God, yes'," Canada mumbled.
France chuckled softly and pulled him into his arms. Canada was reeling at the scent of roses and wine, the feel of him finally against him, so hard and delicious.
He figured he owed her this one. Unless it really was a 'little bird' and Pierre had taken up to gossiping again.
Series: Hetalia
Character/pairing: America/Ukraine, bit of France/Canada
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2077
Summary: America attempts to best winter in his own questionable ways, Canada mocks him with his superior winter skills, Ukraine tries to make it better, and the French countryside is head tiltingly kinky.
Author's note:
fic_promptly: any, so long, clear skies. Some of the jokes are HIMYM inspired, because how could that joke not be used? Happy winter holidays, finch00! America decided right about November that he was going to become a bear. Not a big hairy gay dude, but an actual grizzly. Of course, being randomly furry and teethy and awesome was a plus, but mostly he wanted their mad hibernating skills.
Last year there'd been crazy amounts of snow, and even if he shoveled like a boss, because that's what heroes do, he didn't want to. He could admit there was some fun to be had with snowmen, and snowball fights were always pretty cool–he and Prussia had a pretty epic one the other year or so. But it was just so damn cold and grey and sleety and yucky. Plus, in the city the snow became this gross slushy toxic sludge thing that got stuck to his shoes. So not a freaking winter wonderland.
So America prepped. He upped the portions for a week, got a big furry fake bear blanket and huddled under it and waited for the magic to come. It could be pretty cool, actually. He might have awesome dream adventures and when he woke, it would be sunny and warm. It was a win-win situation. Plus he'd turn into a freaking bear How cool was that?
So he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
When he pulled the blanket back, still not an awesome bear, Tony was looking at him.
"Fucking hell," he said.
"Yeah, I know," America said.
So much for that plan.
*
America's next big plan involved shutting out the winter. He printed out sunny locales in France, who actually wouldn't mind if his obscene bare landscapes all over the place, blocking out that cold gray yuck. Except, he never took into account what might happen if other countries saw what he'd done to his house.
Especially Canada.
Canada blushed, and tugged his red and white knit cap down fruther. "W-what's with the French scenery porn?" He said. He turned away from a particularly flirty and vivacious vineyard sprawled out over his windows like a pinup.
"I'm totally beating winter this time! I'm going to hire someone to get me food, and then I'll just stay in and play video games until Spring comes!" America said. He put both thumbs waaay up and winked.
"What about Thanksgiving? And Christmas, and New Year's, and Valentine's day?" Canada said. He was still flushed, and trying to avert his eyes from the scenery.
America cringed. He'd miss turkey day! And egg nog! And champagne and chocolate, and—
"I can't hibernate, not if it means missing chocolate and champagne!" America burst out.
"Well, yeah," Canada said. "And there's two Thanksgivings, don't forget that."
"Yeah, mine and your weird early one," America said.
"Yours is the weird one," Canada said, with a frown.
"Ff, suuure, whatever," America said. "Hey! I could go down south for the winter!"
"You man, like the senior citizens do? Pussy," Canada said. "You call this snow? We go around in shorts in this weather. My neighbor is going to be having a barbeque because it's so warm."
America flinched at this. On one hand, warmth and girls in bikinis and well built guys. On the other hand, the thought that Canada could be beating him in anything was unsettling. It was his personal job as a brother to mock him and best him in everything, so Canada being more hardcore about anything than him meant that something was wrong in the world.
Which pretty much killed the idea of him chilling and doing shots with Mexico again down on the beach.
America punched his fist into his palm to punctuate his awesome point. "I'm a hero, I can take a little snow!" America said.
"Little is right," Canada said. "This is some seriously wussy snow."
He had peeled away one of the pictures, and it'd then disappeared, though his coat looked a bit thicker somehow.
America stopped paying attention about then, because he was totally distracted by the plans of how he was going to survive this winter while not being a bear or a snow bird. But Canada kept cleaning up, and more of the posters and stuff went...somewhere.
"Even a picture of the Eiffel tower?" Canada said, blushing even more. "Jeez, you probably don't even put passwords and fake folders for your porn."
"Why would I? It's not like Tony is going to mess with my stuff," America said.
Canada just shook his head.
*
She heard of it by sheer accident, when Canada was smoothing out and storing some head tiltingly kinky pictures of the French countryside. He blushed when he saw, and muttered something about j-just taking care of them for a friend.
She didn't judge, of course. She may have even had some pictures of the Florida and California coastline to get her through the winter.
Not that she'd admit to them publically, mind you.
But she'd been a sister long enough to know when to change the subject after stepping into a compromising and embarrassing moment.
"Of course they aren't," she said soothingly. "Now, you wanted that cookie recipe?"
"No, really, it came from America. He was apparently trying to make it through winter by...well, pictures," Canada said.
"Ah, did he?" She said.
"Yeah, I think it was plan B, after trying to turn himself into a bear," Canada said.
She couldn't help but laugh. America was so whimsical, so cheerful and brilliant in his own crazy ways.
That was about when the plan started to form in her mind.
*
She picked up several skeins of yarn quite cheap, yet in the kind of secrecy that hadn't been around since the Soviet union. She put the red yarn in, as casually as if she were slipping something obscene in between the potatoes and milk.
She convinced her sister to purchase the white yarn, the most innocuous of the bunch. She’d made plenty of white mittens and white scarves for them. Belarus looked suspiciously at her, but then she always looked like that, save for when her cold stares thawed slightly around Russia.
On her own, she'd gotten newer skeins of the fluffy sorts of yarn made from faux fur. She began knitting early every year, for even if her family could afford gloves of their own nowadays, old habits died hard.
She'd always found knitting a very relaxing practice, though this time, she kept biting her lip and blushing from time to time as she began to knit the stripes. Stars were a bit too difficult for her, but she hoped he'd like it, none the less.
She'd tried for gloves, but she couldn't make the mental picture of perfectly formed gloves come to anything but a pair of misshapen mittens which she kept for herself. The scarf and hat, however, came out rather well.
By the time she had finished all of her projects, the ground was covered in snow.
*
The next time she visited Canada, took the package along with her, carefully wrapped up in blue and white wrapping paper with snowflakes on it.
She'd barely exchanged greetings and how have you been before bringing out the package. Already she could feel her heart racing. It was going to be anonymous, she told herself. Canada would deliver it, and that would be that.
"If you could....Please pass this on to him," Ukraine said. Before Canada could even take it, a voice called from the back room.
"Pass this on to who?" It was too loud and cheerful. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the package.
Canada looked from him to her. Ukraine clung more tightly to the package. For a moment, she wondered if he'd cover for her in this one, if he'd get just how embarrassing this would be for her.
He didn't.
"Well, looks like he's already here," Canada said. "So, I'll just let you give it to him that way, right?"
She could only stand there, dazed with embarrassment at the outcome.
"I'm off for a beer, you want one?" Canada asked.
She was about to refuse as she usually did whenever anyone offered her something, but it struck her at the moment that she could really use some alcohol to numb the embarrassment that made her want to curl in a corner and bury her face in her knees.
"Yes. Yes, please–" she said, her voice rising in desperation.
"Ooh! Me too, bro," America called.
"So, stuff?" America said hopefully.
"Ah, yes..." she stiffly handed out the package.
America ripped the wrapping paper off in remarkable time. Pieces of blue and white flew everywhere. He really was just like a child, she thought, and smiled to herself.
"Ooh, these look warm," America said. He unfolded the scarf and lifted it up to get a better look. "And it's got my colors, too!"
"Ah...I heard you were unhappy with winter, so I made these. No big deal, really," she said. She laughed nervously.
"No, it's a huge deal! Thanks a ton," America said. "I'll be a lot warmer this way. And it's really soooftt–"
He rubbed his face against the faux fur tufts which made up the outer rim of the hat, and scarf.
"I'll wear it all the time and my ears won't get cold!" He said.
"Th-there was supposed to be mittens too, but they didn't turn out well. And a sweater, but I didn't have the sizes–" She knew she was babbling, but just couldn't stop. "So. I, ah. Guess I should be going, really I didn't mean to intrude on family time–"
"Nah, it's no biggie. I just came over to watch the game tonight. Why don't you stay? We're having beer and pizza," he said.
"Really?" she said. "If you really wouldn't mind...."
"Nah, I'd love for you to stay. I'll save a spot for you right next to me!" America said. He winked, and
Ukraine couldn't help but blush. He was so handsome and adorable and he was winking at her. And when she tried to pass it off as just his own quirks, her inner rationalizations were cut short when he put his arm around her on the couch.
All she could think was that the embarrassment was well worth it.
Well, that and she owed Canada a debt of thanks.
And for once, she even knew how to repay it.
*
So, Canada may have been epic at winter, but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time looking at the sunny, gorgeous, wonderful French countryside and landmarks. He was just smoothing out Gorges du Tarn when he heard a sensual chuckle behind him that made him freeze.
"This is certainly an interesting turn of events," France said. He looked thoughtfully at the posters, and Canada wanted to crawl in a closet and just forget this ever happened. Of all the people to walk in on his posters–But France had already seen him, already knew–
"F-France–! What are you doing here? Y-you never come over in winter," Canada said.
"A little bird told me I should come visit you. And really, I am glad I did. Gorges du tarn? And the Eiffel tower too? You're quite a naughty boy, Canada," France said.
Canada blushed and looked away. "I-I was just taking care of them for America. Really."
"Of course you were," France said.
He undid one button, then two, then three of his dress shirt. Canada couldn't look away as more of France's chest was revealed. "Perhaps you'd like a private tour?"
Canada blushed.
"I'll take that as a yes?" France said.
'Th-think of it more as an 'Oh God, yes'," Canada mumbled.
France chuckled softly and pulled him into his arms. Canada was reeling at the scent of roses and wine, the feel of him finally against him, so hard and delicious.
He figured he owed her this one. Unless it really was a 'little bird' and Pierre had taken up to gossiping again.
