What the heck is this nonsense, you might ask? This...this is what happened when I listen to "I just had sex" by Lonely Island and featuring Akon on repeat for hours instead of studying. (FFFFF-dies-). Its supposed to be a silly, light-hearted thingy. Don't take it seriously. Keep your expectations low. Also, this was supposed to be a gift for someone but I won't mention the person (even though you know who you are) because I'm a little ashamed but it is USCan so...yay?

Warnings: crack, stupidity, OOCness, language, slash, mentions of sex, gratuitous nonsense

Pairing: USCan

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or "I just had sex".

"You're a what?" Matthew asked dumbly, his water bottle slipping from suddenly lax fingers. The red plastic bottle, with a maple leaf emblazoned on the side, tumbled to the ground, water leaking sadly from the still open spout.

Alfred laughed awkwardly, plucking his nearly translucent with sweat 'I love NY' t-shirt away from his chest by the black lettering. Lifting the collar, he wiped his tanned face of the sweat that was still dribbling from his hairline after their jog, gifting Matthew with a perfect view of sun-tanned skin, still-firm abdominals despite the totally there love-handles pushing against the elastic of the superpower's basketball shorts. A trail of sparse dirty blond trailed into the elastic from Alfred's bellybutton and Matthew almost giggled hysterically at the fact that it was so obvious that Alfred actually groomed that area.

"I'm a virgin." Alfred muttered, voice muffled by the cotton of his shirt. The collar was stretched somewhere above his eyebrows, leaving just a sliver of forehead, Nantucket, and a mop of dark golden hair sticking every which way. "But not really."

Matthew snorted, reaching over and tugging down his near-twin's shirt, nearly knocking off Texas and earning a pout from the older nation. The francophone merely returned the pout with a look that clearly said "Fucking deal with it, eh."

"What do you mean by that?" Matthew asked patiently, dabbing at his own sweaty face with his sleeve. Then, he began to stretch his quads, pulling his leg taut and releasing it with a sigh as he eased the discomfort in his muscles.

It hadn't been that long since he worked out, had it? At least he was still more fit than Alfred. The other blond was still trying to catch his breath and had only just managed to stagger to his feet after passing out on the blacktop after their jog.

Honestly, it was only 10 kilometers. Alfred used to be able to do that in his sleep.

Alfred didn't answer and Matthew rolled his indigo eyes, huffing, "Brother!"

"…Huh?" The superpower muttered, reluctantly tearing his eyes from Matthew who was now stretching his hamstring. Rear sticking out just a bit, Matthew was balancing on one bent knee with his other leg stretched out before him.

The Canadian quirked an eyebrow, then slowly straightened before doing the same with his other leg. Immediately, Pacific blue eyes gravitated back to the curve of his ass and the way his compression shorts clung to his gluts.

"…I want to lick the back of your thighs…" Alfred muttered, cheeks darkening. "…And I want to finger you while you suck me off…"

"That's nice." Matthew responded blithely, pretending that the other's words shot straight to his groin, standing straight after snatching up his water bottle. "But it has nothing to do with you being…" He paused, snickering, "a virgin."

Alfred's gaze snapped up to his face, pink and embarrassed and a little pissed off. "I'm, like, half a virgin, okay?"

"What does that even mean?" the northern nation asked bemusedly as he started walking back into his house. "Come in, Alfred. I don't want my Boss's kids to see your boner. They live just down the street and they're sweet kids."

With a sulk, Alfred obediently followed his brother into his Ottawa home, shutting the door behind him before toeing off his worn Nikes. "They wish they could see a dick as awesome as mine."

"If they can even see it." Matthew retorted, a tad cuttingly if Alfred's flinch was any indication. "I'm sorry." The blond said reflexively, reaching back for Alfred's hand. "Its not that small."

"Is this how you treat all the guys who want to bone you?" The older nation grumbled, entwining his fingers with his brother's.

"No." Matthew said with an easy, unapologetic smile. "Usually I suck them off and tell them to fuck off. The only exception, so far, has been Will but we haven't done anything for a few decades now." He shrugged. "I can't pass as a girl anymore so we're cool just being friends."

"Oh."

"And I guess Gilbert, but we were drunk and he's actually not completely exaggerating about his 'five meters', I mean it's not quite five but it's nothing to sneeze at."

"Oh."

Matthew relinquished his hold on his brother, moving instead to rummage through the cupboards. "I have salt and vinegar or ketchup." He held up both bags and turned to look at Alfred.

Alfred was still standing in his doorway, looking rather lost.

"Al?" Matthew asked, eyes soft and concerned. With a sigh, he put both bags on the counter and, socks slipping against the wooden floors, slid over to his brother and wrapped his arms around his neck. "You were being serious, weren't you?" He asked kindly, knotting his fingers in the curling hair at his brother's nape.

"Yeah." Alfred admitted. "Don't laugh—but I've kind of wanted us to lose our virginities to each other."

Matthew smiled warmly, trying very hard not to giggle at the idealistic dream his brother had concocted. "Oh?"

"I thought about it…after I invaded you." Alfred paused, blue eyes flickering nervously to look at Matthew's expression carefully, lest he spark his brother's ire. "But I wanted it to be special."

Matthew blinked in surprise.

As painful as that night was, Alfred hadn't actually done anything. His brother had found him, in the middle of the black smoke, choking on the smog and sobbing his hate against the cobblestones as York burned around him. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't see and all he wanted to do was find Alfred and make him suffer because his brother was cheating and it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

After Alfred had found him, the smoke was dissipating into the starry night sky, dawn already skirting against the horizon. Alfred had stared dispassionately down at him, expression almost regretful. Matthew, who was sprawled against the ground, voice hoarse from screaming as his skin blistered and burned, had merely spat and said, "Just do it already!" hearing Arthur's warnings in his ears.

But Alfred had only knelt down, offering his canteen of water to Matthew, resting it within reach when the colony had slapped it away in fury. Then he had disappeared, leaving Matthew to call him a coward and many other awful things in both French and English.

That bit of mercy was the only reason Matthew stayed with Alfred as the other writhed and cried during their fiery revenge. Arthur had found him, sitting next to a passed out Alfred, and only quirked a prominent eyebrow when Matthew left Alfred's old canteen under the new nation's arm before turning on his heel and waiting for his colony to rush over to his side.

"Oh." Matthew said, burrowing his nose into the curve of Alfred's neck, wrinkling his nose when slick skin stuck to his cheek. "Oh."

"Yeah." Alfred laughed lightly, his chest rumbling against Matthew's. His arms wrapped around his brother's narrow waist and tightened. His lips brushed just below Matthew's earlobe. "Then I kind of lost interest in sex for a while and got busy with some stuff. And then I saw you in Europe and we weren't kids and I felt less guilty about creeping on you but it wasn't really a good time and I was still pretty suspicious of those Europeans—sketch, the entire bunch." Alfred sighed. "And then it got pretty busy for me, being a badass motherfucker and protecting you all from Communism and shit." He grinned. "Being a hero, you know."

Matthew rolled his eyes, reaching down and pinching his brother's pudge affectionately. "I don't think Captain America ever let himself go like this."

Alfred slapped at his hand. "Fuck you. You wish you looked this good." Then, puffing out his cheeks, the superpower continued. "And, well, every time I thought about…doing it," he whispered conspiratorially, childishly, as thought the mere mention of sex would earn him a spanking, "I thought of you."

Matthew blushed, squirming ever so. "R-really?"

Alfred nodded, his thumb absently brushing the dip of Matthew's spine. His hands were warm against the Canadian's clothing and he could feel the heat despite the fabric. "Because England wanted to fuck, for a while, and France has always been a horny bastard. And gosh, Mexico is always willing and so was—"

"Unless you want me to start listing my conquests—"

"Hahaha, no." The American paused, choosing his next words. "We'd be messing around, a little necking and a lot of nakedness, but then I'd get ready to, you know, stick it in—"

"You're so eloquent." Matthew interrupted dryly.

"Shut up. And then I'd think of you, doing something totally innocent like doing a crossword or paperwork or making pancakes, and I'd feel like….like…kind of how like you feel when you're doing something that maybe you shouldn't and it doesn't feel right and you know you'll feel bad?"

"You mean, guilt?"

"I don't know what it's called, Matt." Alfred said impatiently. "But I felt it and I just couldn't get on with it. So…I just never had sex."

"You waited."

"Yes."

"And you're only telling me now because…?"

"Because we didn't really talk for the last few years and you threw those Stanley Cup tickets in my face that one time and since you didn't want to even go to the series with me, I thought you wouldn't be very open to the idea of me sticking my penis in your ass."

"That's because you asked me if I wanted to see my team get its ass kicked by yours for the third year in the row." Matthew said icily, the sting of Calgary's, Edmonton's, and Ottawa's loss still fresh against his heart. "I would've torn off your dick and shoved it down your throat if you even suggested it." He admitted, then grudgingly.

"And, this is like, the first time in a long time that we've spent more than a few hours together and you're wearing those skimpy shorts…" Alfred trailed off, fingertips tracing the stretchy material and tugging at it with bitten nails.

"It's been centuries, Alfred." Matthew said, unwrapping himself from his brother. "It's not going to be the same—"

"I know." Alfred shrugged, before his gaze turned curious. "Who was your first?"

Matthew paused, then quickly opened the fridge door and ducked to peer at the contents of the appliance. "I have red Gatorade!" He called out, grabbing a bottle and holding it up tantalizing. "You like the red kind, right?" He laughed, a little loudly, busying himself by throwing it at his brother and grabbing another for himself.

Twisting open the bottle, he took a deep swig, nearly spitting it out when Alfred said, blandly, "It was Arthur, wasn't it?"

Coughing as the red sports drink dribbled out the side of his mouth, the Canadian wiped his lips with the back of his hand and studiously avoided Alfred's shit-eating grin. "I came onto him, okay?" He said defensively. Then, with a bit of a scowl, he added, "But I was messing around with Katyusha before that."

"Sure."

"And there was nothing Freudian about it."

"I believe you."

"And he was gentle."

"I bet."

"This was after World War I."

"Of course."

"We were two, relatively grown men having consensual, normal—"

"Daddy complex."

Matthew sputtered as Alfred laughed obnoxiously, singing, "Matthew has a daddy complex" over and over and over.

"Hoser!" the Canadian snarled, fingers curling into the plastic of his drink. When Alfred's laughter didn't abate, he tossed out, "At least I'm not a virgin."

On cue, the other's laughter tapered off and he only looked vaguely apologetic. "Sorry, Mattie. At least it wasn't France." When Matthew avoided his gaze, Alfred's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Seriously, Matt? You're like a poster boy for daddy issues."

"Speak for yourself." The younger blond sniped. "You're the one who uses your 'special relationship' with Arthur so you can stay with him during conferences in London just so he'll make you breakfast."

"And you just flash those big violet eyes and flutter your lashes at him because you like rooms with lace curtains and handmade quilts and not the fact that the only meal he doesn't ruin is breakfast and the hotel breakfasts are too bland for your superior French tastes."

The two glared at each other before breaking out into snickers.

"He really should stick to breakfast." Matthew grinned, leaning against the countertop. "Even Francis will eat black pudding if Arthur serves it."

"Remember when Artie threw scrambled eggs at Frenchie and he freaked out and tried to drown him in oatmeal because Arthur stained his silk shirt?" Alfred reminded eagerly.

"And now we never have 'family breakfasts'." Matthew mused.

"Good times." Alfred chirped, before his smile turned sly. "So…can we fuck now?"

When his brother just gave him an unamused look, the superpower went on the defensive. "I've been waiting since forever, I'm a virgin, you're wearing hot pants, you're pretty, I'm half-erect, and I basically spilled my heart for you like a chick." Alfred scowled and pointed at his pelvis. "Sex now, please."

"In the kitchen?"

The American looked around, eyes calculating as he studied each surface critically. Finally, he said slowly, "It could work."

Matthew rolled his eyes and stormed past his brother. "Let me think about it." He muttered, pretending not to see the way Alfred tried to stroke his wavy hair as he walked past the superpower.

As sweet as their entire conversation was, Matthew wasn't about to just jump into the sack with Alfred.

Yeah, while Matthew was shampooing his hair, he paused, realizing Alfred had actually admitted to wanting him, without doing something crazy, borderline illegal, and/or beating around the bush. Then he felt guilty. Then he quickly ran through their history together.

Okay, so Alfred had invaded him, send him letters about that Manifest Destiny bullshit, given him shit about Vietnam and Cuba and a bunch of other stuff, and gave him reason, every day, to assume that he was going to get sucked into an American vortex if he wasn't careful. He thought about all the years of getting mistaken for his brother, of suffering because of his brother's stupidity. He remembered Arthur's slip-of-the-tongues and Francis's not-quite pride and how hard he had to prove himself to the people he shouldn't have to convince.

But then he thought of Alfred, the one person he never had to convince of much. They had their ups and downs, but at the end of the day, he could expect a goodnight text and a smiley face text the next day around noon. He could expect the blond appearing at random times of the night, just to cuddle or demand pancakes. He thought of the way Alfred shoved him playfully and pulled his errant curl and called him his "bitch" and "sidekick" in the most loving way possible so Matthew wouldn't break his jaw. He thought of Alfred holding his hand and kissing his cheek for no reason over the years and just how stupid and carefree the superpower could be, even as he freely carried a concealed handgun in the waistband of his shorts and just how sappy it was of Alfred to imagine them losing their virginities together with each other.

Then he thought that the idea was actually really sweet.

He cursed loudly. "Crisse." With fingers tangled in foamy locks, he added, "I love the idiot." He glared at the tiled wall of the shower, the warm spray hitting his chest.

"Is this some new way of invading?" Ontario asked, unimpressed.

Alfred, sitting in only his Betty Boop boxers, regarded the province haughtily. "You wouldn't understand, kid." He said condescendingly.

"You're trying to get Matt to sleep with you." Quebec said dryly. His gaze flickered to the other's crotch. He looked equally unimpressed.

"I'm not small!" Alfred snapped, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "And why are you even here?"

"I live here." Ontario retorted, scowling, arms crossed. He looked like a less cute version of Matthew. He gave a sidelong look at his fellow province. "Why are you here?"

"I'm welcome here." The other responded smugly.

"No, you're not. Just go. For real this time."

"Ontario, be nice. Quebec, don't start." Matthew scolded, storming into the living room, wearing just a towel around his waist. His blond hair was soaking wet and water droplets raced down his body.

"My eyes!" Ontario screeched, covering his eyes and blushing.

Quebec snorted, muttering something under his breath. Matthew ignored his babbling province and shoved a wad of cash at him instead. "Just get out and don't come back until tomorrow." He ordered. Then he hauled Alfred off the chesterfield by his arm and dragged him towards the stairs.

"I love you." Matthew said quietly, eyes straight ahead. "Don't tell anyone and don't brag, but I love you."

Alfred was grinning brightly and, with one fluid movement, swept Matthew up into his arms. "I know." He said smugly. "I was just waiting for you to figure it out. Now, lets barricade ourselves in your room so I can unleash decades of sexual repression on you."

Matthew was laughing, clutching his stomach as he rolled on the bed, head tossed back as peals of hysterical laughter dropped from his pink mouth.

Alfred was hiding under the sheets.

"I-I…I didn't even touch you…and you…you…" Matthew trailed off, helplessly giggling as he burrowed his face into his pillow, trying to muffle his laughter.

"Fuck you." The lump of a superpower pouted from his cocoon, face aflame with embarrassment. "You kept making those noises and I got excited."

Matthew continued to cackle into the pillow. "A little too excited?" He asked, voice high-pitched as he briefly managed to contain himself. "A little too…quickly?"

With a growl, Alfred untangled himself and launched himself at his brother. Pinning the other down, the superpower managed to wiggle a hand between their bodies, fingers tracing the other's rump right down the middle.

Matthew stopped giggling abruptly, a pink flush running across his face when a fingertip pressed sharply when Alfred spread his cheeks and smirked. Turning his head just so, violet eyes regarded the other nation curiously.

"Al?" He asked softly.

"Hm?" Alfred asked airily, pressing his renewed erection between the spread cheeks before pulling away and pushing back, building up to a steady, controlled rhythm. Matthew twitched below him.

"You, uh…" Matthew licked his lips, shuddering when his erection rubbed against the sheets below him, the friction becoming steadily unbearable. "…you know you need lube right?"

Alfred grinned, purposely grinding against the other's hole and Matthew was half-terrified and more aroused than he should be when Alfred was one good thrust from sheathing himself all the way dry. "I know, bro." He purred darkly, leaning down and putting his full weight on Matthew. His lips brushed against the other's ear, his tongue coming out to lick the shell. He grinded his hips against the still exposed Canadian, laughing breathlessly when Matthew mewled hotly and trembled. "But I'm going to make you cum at least twice before I even fuck you." Then, with one final thrust, the head of his weeping member just barely stretching the rim of Matthew's hole, the superpower pulled away and, with a charming boyish laugh, slapped the other's rear sharply.

Matthew, face heated and cherry-red, barely managed to lift himself onto his forearms before Alfred rolled him over and kissed him soundly on the lips.

"Love you, Mattie." He smiled innocently, not so subtly pinching the Canadian's left nipple before rolling in between his fingers.

"I thought you said you were virgin?" Matthew asked, a little breathlessly. "That was…"

"Awesome?" Alfred quirked a golden brow, smiling. "I've read every issue of Cosmopolitan since it came out. I've already got a list of tips and tricks and positions I'd like to try today, so, try not to ask too many stupid questions Mattie."

Matthew's eyes narrowed and Alfred held his hands up in a placating manner. "Hey, I just want it to be good for you, babe. Besides, you're always telling me to get my shit straight instead of running headfirst into situations." He leaned forward, licking the corner of Matthew's lips before brushing his lips against the other's, tonguing at the seam of his lips. He whispered, warm and sweet, "So I did my research." He moved down to the pale column of Matthew's neck, nipping at the hollow of his throat. "And I'm going to rock your world." He said huskily.

Matthew was struck speechless and, seeing this, Alfred grinned. "Now get on your knees, sweetheart."

"I just had sex!" Alfred sang, bounding into the room and garnering the attention of the nations gathered. "And it felt so good! Matthew let me put my penis inside him!" He skipped over to Arthur and laughed. "Multiple times even!" He pointed dramatically at the European nation. "Beat that, limey!"

Arthur stared at the American, a little stunned. Finally, he managed a strangled, "Wha…what?"

"I just had sex!" Alfred announced again, throwing his hands in the air and doing a stupid little victory dance. "With Matthew! It felt great! It was the best! It was a dream come true!"

And, in a moment of horrible (or awesome) timing, Matthew walked in, an obvious limp to his gait. A dark blush on his face, he avoided the gazes of the nations, wishing that his invisibility would just kick in already. He made his way to his seat and sat down, trying hard not to wince.

"And we're going to do it again tonight!" the superpower continued energetically.

Matthew's head dropped to the table, lolling against the polished surface. "Alfred…you don't just announce it to the world…" He said tiredly.

"But I want to tell the world." Alfred said, almost affronted by Matthew's prudence. "And its not like I'm telling them that you said you love me and I said I love you and then we looked into each other's eyes as we drifted off to sleep."

North Italy 'aww'd' loudly, nudging Germany. "Can we do that tonight, Ludwig?"

Germany flushed light pink, not answering.

"I'm just telling them about how you finally let me fu—"

"Alfred was a virgin!" Matthew snapped, angry now.

All the nations stared at the superpower in disbelief, but Alfred merely laughed happily. "But I just had sex, so, who cares?"

With a groan, Matthew let his head drop back to the table.

But, later during the meeting, when Alfred grabbed his hand under the table, his palm slightly sweaty and his expression a little nervous, Matthew just sighed and smiled gently, squeezing the other's hand.

...I don't even know. I don't even know. And, yes, I can see Alfred announcing him getting laid during a meeting. Also, I'm not saying my nation is a virgin...just that he's a dork and sometimes its nice not to write him as the jock/bully/pimp-daddy of the world who just has to walk into the room and panties go flying.

That's France -shot-

Ahem. Thank you, Canada, for letting America flop around on top of you for a few hours. Even though he came early (jizzed in his pants XDDD).

We had fun. Hope you had a good time too. XD -MURDERED-