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Don't Forget Your Mittens [America/Canada]
Title: Don't Forget Your Mittens
Characters/Pairing: America/Canada
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: ~600
Summary: Kisses and wintery fluff.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post)
Don't Forget Your Mittens
The Saskatchewan River flowed lazily beneath them as they leaned over the side of the old stone bridge to watch it. Every so often chunks of ice drifted by in the current. Behind them, separated by a low barrier, cars passed in either direction, heading to Saskatoon’s downtown core, or out the other way toward Broadway Avenue. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was high in the sky and the air was fresh, crisp and sweet-smelling.
“It’s too cold.”
“Huh?” Canada blinked and looked toward his companion, brows furrowing. “What are you talking about? It’s only -15!”
“I have no idea what that is, but it feels fucking cold. My hands are freezing!” America huffed and looked right back at him as if, somehow, he expected Canada to wave a magic wand and bump the temperature up by twenty degrees.
“Well, that’s what you get for not bringing mittens when coming to visit me,” Canada replied mildly. With a sigh, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his thick wool coat and said, smiling, “All right, then. Give ‘em here.”
“What?”
“Your hands.”
America offered them, and Canada took them in his own, surprised by how chilled they were. “Hey, wow, you really are cold. Tsk, maybe you should dress for the weather next time, eh?” Chiding, rubbing those chilly hands with his own, he blew warm puffs of air onto icy skin.
“Nah, don’t think so. Why bring mittens with me, when I can have you warm my hands up for me instead?”
Raising an eyebrow, Canada looked up. His brother was smirking. “You’re a brat,” he said, rolling his eyes. Even so, he continued working the cold out of his companion’s hands, breath fluttering over chilled fingers as he pressed light kisses to his brother’s knuckles.
“Hey...”
“Mm?”
“If you’re gonna’ kiss me, kiss my mouth, genius.”
“Well if you’re going to be like that-“ But before Canada could finish his protesting, America grabbed him by his scarf and jerked him forward. “Mmph,” said Canada, rather unimpressed with the way the other nation claimed his lips, their glasses clicking together. But after a moment, the kiss gentled, and he slid his arms around the other’s shoulders. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad to let America have what he wanted, Canada thought as he felt his brother slipping his arms around his waist. After all, America didn’t even care about his rough, wind-chapped lips, and somehow at that moment it also didn’t really matter that kissing with glasses on was a bit awkward, nor did it matter that the wind had decided to pick up, blowing freezing, icy air straight through their wool coats. Somehow, he thought as he pressed just a bit more tightly against America, somehow it was almost romantic—
HNAAAAARK!
A blaring horn jerked the both of them out of their reverie. Canada pushed his brother away from him and looked toward the road in time to see a car full of college students speed past, catcalling out the windows at them, giving the thumbs-up.
“Oh dear lord,” he groaned, slapping his forehead, cheeks flushing deeply. America, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your...” America paused, wheezing with laugher, his lips drawn into a broad grin. “Your face! Oh god your expression, you look absolutely mortified!”
At that point Canada tried to tackle him, but America had anticipated it and was already off and running, heading toward Broadway. And as the chase began, the wind picked up again and the air was filled with snow and light and the sound of their laughter.
Characters/Pairing: America/Canada
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: ~600
Summary: Kisses and wintery fluff.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post)
Don't Forget Your Mittens
The Saskatchewan River flowed lazily beneath them as they leaned over the side of the old stone bridge to watch it. Every so often chunks of ice drifted by in the current. Behind them, separated by a low barrier, cars passed in either direction, heading to Saskatoon’s downtown core, or out the other way toward Broadway Avenue. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was high in the sky and the air was fresh, crisp and sweet-smelling.
“It’s too cold.”
“Huh?” Canada blinked and looked toward his companion, brows furrowing. “What are you talking about? It’s only -15!”
“I have no idea what that is, but it feels fucking cold. My hands are freezing!” America huffed and looked right back at him as if, somehow, he expected Canada to wave a magic wand and bump the temperature up by twenty degrees.
“Well, that’s what you get for not bringing mittens when coming to visit me,” Canada replied mildly. With a sigh, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his thick wool coat and said, smiling, “All right, then. Give ‘em here.”
“What?”
“Your hands.”
America offered them, and Canada took them in his own, surprised by how chilled they were. “Hey, wow, you really are cold. Tsk, maybe you should dress for the weather next time, eh?” Chiding, rubbing those chilly hands with his own, he blew warm puffs of air onto icy skin.
“Nah, don’t think so. Why bring mittens with me, when I can have you warm my hands up for me instead?”
Raising an eyebrow, Canada looked up. His brother was smirking. “You’re a brat,” he said, rolling his eyes. Even so, he continued working the cold out of his companion’s hands, breath fluttering over chilled fingers as he pressed light kisses to his brother’s knuckles.
“Hey...”
“Mm?”
“If you’re gonna’ kiss me, kiss my mouth, genius.”
“Well if you’re going to be like that-“ But before Canada could finish his protesting, America grabbed him by his scarf and jerked him forward. “Mmph,” said Canada, rather unimpressed with the way the other nation claimed his lips, their glasses clicking together. But after a moment, the kiss gentled, and he slid his arms around the other’s shoulders. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad to let America have what he wanted, Canada thought as he felt his brother slipping his arms around his waist. After all, America didn’t even care about his rough, wind-chapped lips, and somehow at that moment it also didn’t really matter that kissing with glasses on was a bit awkward, nor did it matter that the wind had decided to pick up, blowing freezing, icy air straight through their wool coats. Somehow, he thought as he pressed just a bit more tightly against America, somehow it was almost romantic—
HNAAAAARK!
A blaring horn jerked the both of them out of their reverie. Canada pushed his brother away from him and looked toward the road in time to see a car full of college students speed past, catcalling out the windows at them, giving the thumbs-up.
“Oh dear lord,” he groaned, slapping his forehead, cheeks flushing deeply. America, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your...” America paused, wheezing with laugher, his lips drawn into a broad grin. “Your face! Oh god your expression, you look absolutely mortified!”
At that point Canada tried to tackle him, but America had anticipated it and was already off and running, heading toward Broadway. And as the chase began, the wind picked up again and the air was filled with snow and light and the sound of their laughter.