Felicity [America/Canada]
Feb. 4th, 2009 11:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Felicity
Characters/Pairing: America/Canada
Rating: 13+
Length: 700
Summary: America and Canada spend the day together.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post)
Felicity
What a day.
It was a day spent in the heat. Even in the morning it beat down on them, the sun pounding their backs, their heads, their sunscreen-slathered arms. The air was dry and frequently they resorted to drinking from the water bottles that dangled loosely from their fingers, quenching their thirst, replenishing what the blistering heat had made them sweat out.
It was worth the drive out from Drumheller. Bypassing the main trails choked with tourists in favour of a more peaceful route, they made their way out into the wild foothills of the badlands. After what seemed like hours of tramping through sagebrush and cacti and keeping a constant, cautious eye out for rattlesnakes, they made their way up to the crest of the valley, and looked down.
The entire valley spread out before them. Ancient, beautiful in all its colours, the brightness of the day assaulted the eye with tan and orange hills shot through with veins of black coal, brushed at the tops with green grass and the dusky blue and purple of the sagebrush. Crisp, clear, vivid, it was a land that seemed to breathe even in its stillness, resting, sprawled out beneath the big Alberta sky.
“Whoa.” Canada heard his brother breathe the word.
The faintest breeze blew, touching their faces, shifting their hair as if in greeting.
Canada felt the brush of fingertips over his palm. Wordlessly, he took America’s hand. Somehow, at that moment it seemed the whole world had been placed there just for two of them.
The closed-in veranda’s shade provided relief from the day’s heat. Though the floor was dotted with spots of sunlight streaming in through the white latticework, the light did not reach far inward, and the air along the back wall was cool. Canada leaned back on the old sofa’s cushions and took a long drink from his glass of pop. Lots of ice, just the way he liked it. Perfect. After the hike that day, it was more than welcome.
They had returned late in the afternoon, worn out from their excursion. Their mouths were dry as dust and their cheeks were flushed with the hint of sunburn, but their pockets were filled with chips of coal and petrified wood and their hearts held the image of that peaceful moment when it had seemed as if the world stopped spinning and there was nothing but them and the land and the sky up above. Now was a time for rest – and for supper. Through the open kitchen window Canada could hear his brother on the telephone, ordering in Chinese food. His mouth watered at the thought of lemon chicken and pork dumplings.
After a few minutes he heard the screen door opening then closing loudly, pulled back with a snap by the old springs. America slipped into the veranda, slippers on his feet and his hair still damp from the shower he had taken after they returned from the hike. He smelled faintly of Scotch mints, and Canada was sure he had been swiping them from the candy dish in the living room again. “It’ll be about an hour before I can go pick it up,” he said. “Sounds like the entire town decided to order Chinese tonight.”
“Figures. That place is always kind’ve slammed. Well, what do we do ‘till then? You got any ideas?”
“Hmmm.” America slipped off his glasses and set them on the coffee table, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, actually, I think I do have an idea or two.”
Canada raised an eyebrow. “Like...?”
America flashed one of his movie star smiles, and Canada began to wonder if he should have asked. His brother’s ideas, he recalled, were occasionally rather eccentric. However, it soon became clear precisely what sort of thing he had in mind. The nation removed Canada’s glasses, folded them neatly and carefully set them aside, then shifted closer and gently but firmly pressed him down into the couch cushions.
His lips were dry from the day’s heat. He tasted like Scotch mints and Coca-Cola.
As he relaxed beneath America, melting into the kiss, Canada decided that perhaps an hour’s wait wasn’t so bad after all.
Characters/Pairing: America/Canada
Rating: 13+
Length: 700
Summary: America and Canada spend the day together.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post)
Felicity
What a day.
It was a day spent in the heat. Even in the morning it beat down on them, the sun pounding their backs, their heads, their sunscreen-slathered arms. The air was dry and frequently they resorted to drinking from the water bottles that dangled loosely from their fingers, quenching their thirst, replenishing what the blistering heat had made them sweat out.
It was worth the drive out from Drumheller. Bypassing the main trails choked with tourists in favour of a more peaceful route, they made their way out into the wild foothills of the badlands. After what seemed like hours of tramping through sagebrush and cacti and keeping a constant, cautious eye out for rattlesnakes, they made their way up to the crest of the valley, and looked down.
The entire valley spread out before them. Ancient, beautiful in all its colours, the brightness of the day assaulted the eye with tan and orange hills shot through with veins of black coal, brushed at the tops with green grass and the dusky blue and purple of the sagebrush. Crisp, clear, vivid, it was a land that seemed to breathe even in its stillness, resting, sprawled out beneath the big Alberta sky.
“Whoa.” Canada heard his brother breathe the word.
The faintest breeze blew, touching their faces, shifting their hair as if in greeting.
Canada felt the brush of fingertips over his palm. Wordlessly, he took America’s hand. Somehow, at that moment it seemed the whole world had been placed there just for two of them.
The closed-in veranda’s shade provided relief from the day’s heat. Though the floor was dotted with spots of sunlight streaming in through the white latticework, the light did not reach far inward, and the air along the back wall was cool. Canada leaned back on the old sofa’s cushions and took a long drink from his glass of pop. Lots of ice, just the way he liked it. Perfect. After the hike that day, it was more than welcome.
They had returned late in the afternoon, worn out from their excursion. Their mouths were dry as dust and their cheeks were flushed with the hint of sunburn, but their pockets were filled with chips of coal and petrified wood and their hearts held the image of that peaceful moment when it had seemed as if the world stopped spinning and there was nothing but them and the land and the sky up above. Now was a time for rest – and for supper. Through the open kitchen window Canada could hear his brother on the telephone, ordering in Chinese food. His mouth watered at the thought of lemon chicken and pork dumplings.
After a few minutes he heard the screen door opening then closing loudly, pulled back with a snap by the old springs. America slipped into the veranda, slippers on his feet and his hair still damp from the shower he had taken after they returned from the hike. He smelled faintly of Scotch mints, and Canada was sure he had been swiping them from the candy dish in the living room again. “It’ll be about an hour before I can go pick it up,” he said. “Sounds like the entire town decided to order Chinese tonight.”
“Figures. That place is always kind’ve slammed. Well, what do we do ‘till then? You got any ideas?”
“Hmmm.” America slipped off his glasses and set them on the coffee table, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, actually, I think I do have an idea or two.”
Canada raised an eyebrow. “Like...?”
America flashed one of his movie star smiles, and Canada began to wonder if he should have asked. His brother’s ideas, he recalled, were occasionally rather eccentric. However, it soon became clear precisely what sort of thing he had in mind. The nation removed Canada’s glasses, folded them neatly and carefully set them aside, then shifted closer and gently but firmly pressed him down into the couch cushions.
His lips were dry from the day’s heat. He tasted like Scotch mints and Coca-Cola.
As he relaxed beneath America, melting into the kiss, Canada decided that perhaps an hour’s wait wasn’t so bad after all.
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