Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Alfred F. Jones shivered in the chill wind that blew off of the nearby mountains. His free hand was covered in his thick black leather gloves and was jammed into the pocket of his jeans, the other was dragging a piece of large, rolling luggage. The sun was just starting to set and cast a warm orange and pink hue over the pale snow.
The scene was the epitome of a romantic setting. What would make the vacation complete was a cranky but warm Brit to snuggle with in front of a crackling fireplace.
Yep, anybody that would say that the personification of the U. S. of A wasn't a master in the art of love was a liar.
Alfred crossed the threshold into the warmth of the reception building and sighed. He went up to the cheerful female receptionist and said, “Reservation for Alfred Jones.”
He said and handed over a piece of ID to confirm that he was who he claimed to be.
She tapped a few keys on her computer and clicked the mouse, “Ah yes. The one bedroom with a den. Here is your key and you booked the room for two I see?”
Scratching the back of his head, Alfred said, “Yeah. I did. It'll be just me though since my partner had to cancel at the last minute.”
Even though Arthur would have smacked the back of Alfred's head if he had of heard the word partner. Would have called Alfred a, “Damned wanker.”
So easily embarrassed.
The lady frowned and there was pity in her eyes. Alfred didn't want to see that so he piped up with an excited voice, “Good excuse to spend some quality me-time. I hope this isn't a problem?”
Then Alfred flashed her his most charming smile.
Shaking her head, she handed over, “It's usually more of a problem when you try to add occupants rather than take them away.”
“Great. I hope you have a good stay here and enjoy Whistler!”
The lady gave Alfred the relevant information about the place was staying and then he went to his room.
He opened up the door and saw brown leather couch and chair that sat in front of a stone fireplace. There was a great flat screen TV and heated hardwood flooring. Off of the den was a private hot tub. Alfred dragged his bag and set it on the floor of the bedroom. He flopped across the soft quilts of the bed and closed his eyes.
This sucked.
“I just can't help it. This meeting came up suddenly and it's very important,” England had said when Alfred called him to confirm their plans.
“But I've had this booked for months and months Artie. Come on, can't you just cancel this or re-schedule or something,” said Alfred even though he had known that he had been whining. He had felt justified. Arthur had known about the vacation for almost as many months as Alfred had been planning it.
“No I cannot. Work is important Alfred.”
“But so is relaxation. And besides, it's our anniversary.”
Arthur's voice softened, “I know and I apologize. But I cannot change this.”
Alfred pouted and for once was glad that he couldn't see Arthur. Usually, to get his way, he'd use puppy-dog eyes. However that time he felt an unheroic sheen of totally-not-tears come to his eyes. Arthur had done this so often. Always canceling plans for them to see each other. Always said he was busy.
Alfred said, “Fine. I'll just go by myself.”
And he'd hung up.
Alfred hadn't wanted the vacation to go to waste. He'd heard about Whistler, British Columbia from a number of places. It was supposed to be a great place for people who liked to be active. Skiing, snowboarding, skating, snowmobiling, zip lines. It was sure to be a blast.
Sure he had places like that in his own country. However Whistler was supposed to be a good neutral location for both Alfred and Arthur to go. Whenever Alfred took Arthur to one of his own places, the older man assumed that he was bragging and taking Arthur there to show off. That might not have been too far from the truth.
America was too awesome to not be proud of.
Therefore, he figured that Canada was a good place to go for a winter vacation. Still close enough that it felt vaguely like home.
Except that now he was just lonely.
It wasn't the same without another person...and on his anniversary to boot.
Geez. This really did suck.
#
Alfred slept when he got there until noon on the second day. He only left the room to go get a whole bunch of junk food and cola as well as a meal from a McDonald's that he managed to find. He ate until he felt sleepy and then curled up under the covers of the empty bed.
Arthur hadn't called him back after Alfred hung up. He usually would.
No. Moping wasn't like him. Alfred would just peel himself up off of the bed and go have fun.
He pulled out a list of activities that he'd made. First he'd seen some of the sights.
He bundled up in as many layers as he could. Then he walked around the little village. It was quaint.
Once he got to the ski-rental place, he couldn't help himself. He got some skis and took the first lift up that he could (after waiting in a bit of a line).
Alfred had skied before. He loved sports and had prided himself on having done as many different ones as he could. He thought that he was pretty good at skiing. So he went onto a more advanced run. He tried not to think about how he'd been looking forward to perhaps showing England how to ski.
At the top of the run there was him and one other guy. Alfred wasn't wearing a helmet since he was too awesome to need one. The guy beside him was wearing one and a pair of shiny goggles. He looked sort of familiar, but Alfred couldn't see the guy's eyes or much of the blond hair. He just seemed so-
The man faced him and Alfred could swear that were it not for the goggles, their eyes would have connected. Then the guy smirked and went down the run.
Fast.
Alfred knew a challenge when he saw one.
The sky was a bright blue above him as he descended. Plumes of snow billowed around him as he swerved and slid. The man in the tan jacket with the white fur trim was ahead, but not by much. Wind slapped at his face and he laughed heartily as he caught up and sent the man a grin.
As soon as he went by, the man he was racing caught a second wind and zoomed passed. It was as if the man was one with the mountain. They were already going so fast as it was. Did the guy grow invisible and start to fly?
Once Alfred got to the bottom of the run, he slid over to the side where the man he had just raced was and then said, “Good run dude. Man are you ever fast.”
“I should hope so, I do practice a fair bit,” said the man, taking off his helmet and revealing his mop of wavy blond hair with that one unruly curl.
“Can-Matthew?” said Alfred, correcting his almost slip-up of referring to nation-status in public.
“Yes,” said Matthew, going back over to the lift, “Want to go back up together?”
Alfred nodded, “Yeah sure. What are you doing here?”
“This is my country you know. Is it really so surprising that I'd be here?” asked Matthew, standing in line.
Alfred could not believe that Matt was waiting in line in his own country. Alfred hardly waited in line for anything. He always played up his VIP government status. That didn't work as well in other countries. But in his own?
Like a charm.
“Why don't you just flash some kind of ID and skip the line dude?” wheedled Alfred, nudging his fellow nation in the side.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I'll wait my turn in line. It's only fair,” said Matthew, nodding to himself like he'd just revealed some great truth.
“Boring,” groaned Alfred and resigned himself to his fate of waiting, which he would have had to do anyway since he didn't actually expect to see Matthew here but that wasn't the point.
“A boring guy who kicked your butt at skiing,” said Matt in the oh-so-quiet voice of his.
“Not by much,” said Alfred, crossing his arms, “Since when are you good at things like this anyway?”
“Since always,” said Matthew, sounding a tad weary as they sat down on the lift seat and rode up.
“It's just that you sucked so much a playing catch that I only assumed...” said Alfred, trailing off and watching the sights.
Whispering beside him, Matthew said, “I'm pretty good at sports related to snow and ice. Not so much other ones.”
“Makes sense,” said Alfred, “Since your country is snowy for most of the year.”
Sputtering, Matt said, “It is not. J-jerk!”
Heh. Riling Matt up was fun sometimes.
“Sure it is. Look at all the snow there is now.”
“It's winter!” protested Matt as they neared the top of the mountain.
“Excuses,” said Alfred, cheerfully slipping off the seat and towards the course, “Wanna do the same one? I bet I'll win this time.”
“You're on.”
#
Matthew didn't like being smug about most things. He generally prided himself on being a relatively humble man.
This was not the case when he beat Alfred at something – anything really.
Matthew had to deal with a lot of flack from other nations thinking that he was the personified nation of America. He was Canada gosh darn it and getting mistaken for his neighbour drove him crazy. So it was nice to get one-up on the guy.
They'd spent the entire afternoon going down the slopes and trading jabs back and forth. It had been a lot of fun. More fun than Matthew would have had if he'd been alone as he'd assumed he would.
Once the mountain was closed, Alfred brought back his skis to the rental place. Matthew packed his in their case and carried it since he owned his own gear.
“Are you staying close by? Wanna get dinner together?” said Alfred with a hint of something other than cheer in his voice. Was it desperation?
No.
There was no way that Matthew's ever bold and strong neighbour would be anxious about anything.
“Sure. I'm just at a hotel over there. I got a discount because I was here for business and stayed afterwards for a vacation,” said Matthew.
“Great. We can just drop your stuff off and then grab food. I'm starved.”
They did just that. Alfred stayed in the hotel lobby while Matthew ran upstairs. When he came back down, he saw Alfred sitting on a chair in the spacious sitting area of the first floor. The man was frowning at his cell-phone.
“Oh do you need to leave or something?” assumed Canada, since the social life of a nation was prone to disruptions from their bosses.
“Nah. I'm cool,” said Alfred, hastily putting away his phone and then jumping up.
The gregarious blond chattered constantly about a variety of things like work, video games and movies. Matthew smiled and nodded along all the way into the restaurant and while they waited for their food.
Once there was a lull in the conversation, he said, “Why are you here Al?”
“I-” started Alfred, poking at his steak and spearing a piece of meat on a fork along with a small pile of onions, “I was supposed to be here with Artie. It's our anniversary tonight and he canceled on me.”
“Oh,” said Matthew, who of course had known that Alfred was dating Arthur. Most other nations who didn't live under a rock would know that. Alfred, though not hanging out with his neighbour all the time, had told Matthew when he began dating the Brit a couple decades previous.
Alfred swirled his fork through some sauce and pouted. Matthew didn't know what to say. He never knew what to say since Alfred and he didn't hang out all too often.
Finally he decided, “That bites.”
Smiling thankfully, Alfred said, “Yeah it does. I had planned this for ages. He's been doing this a lot recently. It's pretty annoying.”
“Canceling plans?”
“Uh-huh. And he just doesn't seem to care that he does it because he just keeps...you know...doing it. When we do get together, everything seems good to me. I just don't know. He hasn't even called me after I hung up on him the other day or responded to my texts. What should I do Matt?”
It was always like this. They may not hang out all the time, but Alfred seemed to trust Matt with these sorts of things. Opened up to him.
“Talk to him when you see him next? And call him instead of texting,” said Matthew, spearing a potato and taking a bite with a pleased hum.
“I have called him. Maybe tomorrow I'll call his office. He hates it when I do that but I just don't like being ignored.”
Join the club.
That was what Matthew was tempted to say. He got ignored all the time by other nations. His own people liked him of course, even ones who didn't know what he was to them (that was most civilians of course). However Alfred was clearly upset. Only half of his food had been eaten.
“That would suck. It ended up happening to me when I was with Gilbert,” said Matthew, shrugging and taking a sip of his lager.
“You were seeing somebody?” asked Alfred, narrowed gaze, “Who is Gilbert? Can't be that damn commie. His name is Miguel right? And you know how much I hate him.”
“Not that I need your permission to date anybody,” said Matthew, glaring at the food on his plate instead of Alfred, “But Gilbert used to be Prussia.”
“Oh him. What happened between you two and why didn't you tell me you were seeing somebody?”
“One: You aren't around here that often and it didn't come up during the few times that you were,” said Matthew, watching Alfred look vaguely ashamed at himself for ignoring his neighbour, “And two: He started spending less time with me, ignoring me. Eventually he told me that he wanted to see other people. Though he worded it as, 'My awesome is too much for this relationship now. It needs somebody else.'”
Alfred promptly whined, “Mattie, that doesn't help at all. That just makes me more worried.”
Matt reached over and placed a hand over Alfred's on the table, “Don't worry. You an Arthur have always cared a great deal about each other, even when you're fighting.”
That made Matt cringe with long buried emotions. The fact that the two other nations had always preferred each other had been a sore point with him when he was younger. Now, not as much, because he'd become used to it and had other friends and people to socialize with.
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks Matt! You always know just what to say to cheer me up. I should hang out with you more often,” said Alfred, instantly bouncing out of his funk like he was a spring.
“So when do you leave?” asked Matt, wanting to change the subject.
“About five days, why?”
“I know some really great places in B.C that aren't too far away from the village. That is...if you will come with me?”
“Sure! I love adventures.”
#
Alfred jammed both hands in his pockets as he saw Matt walk up to where they'd agreed to meet.
The sun wasn't even up yet and a light snow dusted the packed piles that were already on the ground. Alfred loved the mornings but hated the cold when he didn't have somebody to warm him.
Matt, on the other hand, was the opposite; Alfred knew that much and he was clutching a coffee like it held water from the fountain of youth. Though since nations were immortal, Alfred mused that that probably wasn't a very good analogy.
Matt wore a coat but it didn't bulge with a hundred layers underneath, unlike Alfred's own. He wore thin gloves and knit winter hat. What did he call those again? Tics? Tonks? Torques?
It didn't matter. Matt also had a large backpack, probably full of supplies. Alfred had a backpack too.
Full of snacks and some minor supplies.
“Why did we have to get up when it is still so cold out? I coulda played video games for a bit,” pouted Alfred.
Matt shook his head, “I hate waking early but we need to in order to get to our destination and back in time.”
As Matt got closer, Alfred saw that the coffee was from Tim Horton's. He caught the aroma drift over and groaned. He'd forgotten to drink some coffee that morning.
“Lemme have a sip,” said Alfred, hand already on the red cup.
Matt yanked the drink back and snarled so furiously that Alfred took a step back, “Touch my Timmies again and I'll kill you and bury you so deep in my wilderness that nobody will ever find you.”
Alfred blinked and then chuckled, “Heh, Arthur gets the same way over his morning tea. His 'cuppa'”
Matt grumbled incoherently.
Alfred laughed again at what he perceived as a funny word. Cuppa. Heh. Watching Matt was also pretty amusing.
“I didn't know that you were so fierce outside of war Matt.”
“A threat to my coffee is akin to a national threat.”
Together they walked to a snowmobile rental shop. It was closed but Matt knocked on the door. A few minutes and some grumbles from inside the shop, the door opened. There was a grumpy looking Canadian standing there, clutching a coffee in a similar way as Matt.
Were all Canadians this grumpy and addicted to caffeine? This stranger, in that moment looked so very much like the personified nation, even if many of their physical attributes were different.
“Well come on in then. We don't want to let the warm air out, eh?”
Alfred giggled.
Matt glared over at him, “What?”
“He said eh,” whispered Alfred.
Alfred easily dodged Matt's attempt to elbow him in the side and followed the shop owner to the area where the snowmobiles were.
“Thanks for doing this for me,” said Matt, drinking the rest of his coffee and placing the cup in the proper bin.
“It's not a problem. I owe you one. But unfortunately I can only give you one. We're running low on them.”
Matt arched a brow, “How? This is a big part of your business.”
The man sighed, “A group of adults rented around five and then let their idiot teens drive them. The mobiles are being repaired. This is a busy season and I like to keep enough in stock for others.”
“It's fine. Alfred and I can just ride together. It's big enough.”
Alfred frowned, “Can I drive?”
“No,” was all the answer Matt seemed willing to give as he took that keys for the vehicle.
“But snowmobiling is fun. I wanna.”
“No.”
“Pleeeease?” said Alfred.
“Maybe on the way back once you'll know the terrain and what to expect.”
Alfred sighed and was ignored.
Matt put his supplies into the snow mobile's storage.
Once they were back outside, Matt got on and Alfred boarded behind him with his backpack still on. Like he was a girl or something.
“Scoot up or you'll fall off. I drive fast.”
“There's no way you go that fa-”
Alfred was cut off by Matt zipping forward. Could snowmobiles even go that damn fast? Again with Matt's weird snow powers.
Alfred had nearly fallen off, so he clutched onto the other man's shoulders and plastered his front to Matt's back, “Crazy canuck.”
Matt just laughed.
#
Not usually one to wax poetic, Alfred was almost tempted with the scenery around him.
While nothing could be quite as great as his own country, Alfred had to admit that Canada was damn gorgeous. Sparkling white snow; icy lakes sometimes dotted with fishing huts; high mountains reaching to the heavens; trees as far as he could see. Even the occasional brave animal was still close enough for them to see. Alfred wondered where they were going even if he was enthralled with the epic vistas around him.
Eventually, Matthew stopped the vehicle, took and said, “We're on foot from here.”
And then they climbed. It wasn't too steep and it was only the lower parts of the mountain. Alfred was surprised that the trek wasn't too hard. But still challenging enough to be fun for Alfred.
“Formed this way naturally,” said Matt as a response, “Not many tourists make it out this far or know where to go.”
But it was Matthew's land and he did know, were the unspoken words. Alfred knew what it was like though, to feel every inch of your land as if it were your own skin.
When they stopped, it was on a rocky plateau, open to the air and only ten feet above all of the highest trees. Alfred could see for miles and just on the other side of them was a waterfall. It was far enough away so as to not get water on them or make it hard to speak but close enough to be spectacular.
“Wow,” said Alfred.
“I know.”
Looking back at Matt, Alfred saw a deep pride in the man's eyes and a warm smile on his lips. Sunlight shone off of the silken blond waves and Alfred was struck at once at how handsome his neighbour was. Alfred hadn't ever taken the time to really think about it before.
Coughing and pushing the thoughts from his head, Alfred said, “So how about something to eat? I'm frickin' starving.”
“I brought some granola bars and some jerky,” said Matt, taking off his pack that he'd taken from the storage of the vehicle.
Alfred chuckled, “Forget those. I brought munchies.”
“Chocolate bars? Chips? Pop? What sorts of trail foods are those?”
“Awesome ones.”
Matthew rolled his eyes but took a can of the 'pop' and sat on a rock. Man people who weren't from America had weird words for things. It was soda. But Alfred was feeling generous enough not to comment for once.
“You'd better not even think about leaving your garbage here.”
Alfred sat beside Matt and frowned, “I'm not that bad you know. Geez.”
Some of Alfred's emotions must have shown through in his voice, because Matt looked over. His kind violet eyes roved over him and then he patted Alfred's knee.
“I'm sorry. I was joking around. I guess it wasn't very funny. Ha ha,” stammered Matthew nervously.
Alfred shook his head and swallowed his bite of chocolate in order to say, “Naw. I'm just feeling a bit sensitive. After all, Arthur is always poking fun at me somehow. It usually doesn't bug me too much, but when he isn't responding to my texts or anything...”
“You still didn't call him?”
Shrugging, Alfred didn't say anything because he didn't want to admit that he was a teensy bit afraid to. He was a hero and wasn't supposed to be scared of anything.
“So what movies have you seen recently,” said Alfred, cheerfully changing the subject.
#
Alfred was allowed to drive back since he remembered the way. It was hard for him to get lost in Canada, especially with the nation in question oh so close to him. He felt Matthew's every breath. It was distractingly warm and smelled sweet.
The wind picked up during the later part of the afternoon and chilled Alfred's face, stinging it red.
By the time they were back, all Alfred wanted to do was soak in the hot tub.
“Hey Matt,” said Alfred as they came out from the snowmobile rental shop, “Wanna pick up food and then go back to my place and soak in the private hot tub in my room?”
Matthew blinked and then smiled, “Sure. As long as you call Arthur.”
“Oh maaaan. Fine. But you promise to be there in case he's really mad at me or something?”
“Of course.”
As soon as they ordered some Chinese, they went back as fast as they could.
Matthew went to work serving the food as Alfred dialed his boyfriend.
It rang several times before Arthur picked up.
“Hey babe. Did I catch you at the wrong time?” said Alfred, since the Brit sounded out of breath.
“No. I'm fine. H-how is the vacation?” said Arthur, a rustling of fabric in the background.
“It's great. Matt's here. But I miss you. Yesterday was our anniversary and you didn't respond to my text messages. Are you mad at me angel-pie?”
Alfred expected some kind of outraged response at the nickname. As it was, he heard Matthew snicker behind him. Arthur hated pet names and wasn't one to want to talk about their relationship and the fact that they were partners.
So what Arthur did reply with surprised Alfred.
“No. I'm not upset. My phone died. I apologize,” said that sexy British accent that sounded mildly distracted.
“Wha-” started Alfred, not sure what else to say to this man who just couldn't have been Arthur. No snark, no bite to his words. Just an apology.
“Who are you and what did you do to Arthur?” said Alfred, free hand fisted on his hip.
“Idiot,” ah there was the Arthur he knew, “Can't I just be sorry?”
“Well yeah. I guess. But couldn't you have borrowed your boss's phone or something?”
“No. Hold on a moment.”
There was silence on the other end that was too deep to be natural. It was as if Arthur had covered the mouthpiece or put the phone on mute.
That British voice came back and said, “I have to go again. Sorry. I l-love you.”
Another quick phone call. Damn.
“I love you too Artie.”
And then there was the tone, indicating that Arthur had hung up.
Alfred swallowed, thick and clenched his eyes shut. What the hell was going on? He hated this!
“So...your food is served,” said Matthew's soft and sweet as honey voice.
They ate in relative silence, Matt not once asking what had happened on the phone. For that Alfred was glad because he didn't even know what had happened.
Alfred put the paper plates on the table and went to the hot tub. He started it going and grabbed a couple towels. He closed the wooden sliding panels around the windowed walls that surrounded the hot tub area. Then he undressed.
Matthew came into the room and immediately flushed, “We're soaking naked?”
Alfred nodded, “Yeah dude. Why not?”
“Well, you h-have a boyfriend for one.”
Probably. Though Arthur acted like he didn't even want to be.
Alfred didn't say that and instead said, “So? It isn't as if we didn't see each other naked when we were kids.”
“That was very different. I've changed.”
Alfred sighed as he sunk into the hot and slowly bubbling water. Bliss.
“Unless you've grown a vagina all of a sudden, I'm not going to be startled.”
“Okay,” said Matthew hesitantly, slowly stripping and folding his clothes into a neat pile. The northern nation never did things like folding or cleaning unless he was nervous or about to be buried in his own mess. Alfred knew this for a fact because growing up, the room they shared had been a disaster.
As soon as Matthew slipped off his briefs and straightened his back, Alfred gasped, “Holy shit dude! Is that a dick or a tree trunk?”
Matthew grimaced and snatched his underwear back and readied himself to put them back on, “I knew I should have left these on.”
Chuckling, Alfred said, “No, don't. You don't need to. I was just messing with you.”
“I'd rather you didn't.”
Matt got into the water quickly and kept his hands over his junk. His face was red again and Alfred knew that it wasn't because of the heat of the water. Matt was funny with his near constant blushing. Alfred grinned and sunk lower so that his chin was dipping in and his legs were spread wide.
He hadn't ever been one to be modest about nudity. At least not when it came to being around other guys.
Just as his eyes began to slide shut, Matt asked, “So would you like to talk about it?”
“Not really,” said Alfred, but then found the words spilling from his mouth like a leaky faucet, “He wasn't snarky with me at all.”
“Wouldn't that be a good thing? I mean, most couples like being nice to each other.”
Alfred shook his head, “I do like it when he is nice to me. It's just that he doesn't like talking about our relationship. He won't even admit that we're partners.”
Matt began to relax, resting his arms along the side of the tub, “But haven't you been dating for over twenty years?”
Alfred straightened up immediately and gestured wildly, “Yes! We totally have been. So I don't know what to think. I mean, I'm not one to talk about relationships and junk all the time either But this is getting ridiculous.”
“One second,” said Matt and got out of the tub, towel quickly wrapped around his waist.
The man came back a few minutes later with a bowl of candy and placed it near Alfred and then smiled.
Alfred jammed some of the food in his mouth gratefully. Thank God for Matt. He always understood the need to comfort eat. Once he swallowed, he said, “I miss him and I don't think he misses me.”
He turned to the bowl of jujubes and skittles, stuffing his face. He wasn't looking behind him so he didn't expect the hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently but with a hidden strength not shown to many others.
“I think that everything will work out in the end.”
Alfred melted under that hand and resisted the urge to lean closer. He needed that. He needed somebody to reassure him in a way that not many people were willing to.
Alfred met his neighbour's eyes. He saw the fear that tried to creep into that winter-paled face and quickly said, “Thanks. I'm glad that you're here buddy. You and me? We're always going to be friends right?”
For once, the smile that Matt gave met his eyes and the slight fear of something that the northern nation often tried hard to restrain faded away. Alfred had never fully understood why Matt would be so wary around him sometimes. Scared of being hurt? Alfred hoped that Matt's fright would stay away for good this time.
“Sure. Unless you invade me again,” said Matt, chuckling and dodging the splash of hot water that Alfred sent his way.