Title: Not So Oblivious
Characters/Pairings: Canada, France, United Kingdom, United States, others
Warnings: language, my peculiar sense of humour; asexuality treated seriously (since when does that ever happen in fic? ;)
Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz, I'm just borrowing them.

Summary: Francis and Arthur believe that their darling little Matthew is a virgin, and accidentally set off a betting pool to see who can get into Matthew's pants first. Matthew is less than amused.

Human names used: Lars = the Netherlands, Miguel = Cuba.

It started like so many other things between Arthur and Francis: as an argument.

"Whatever gave you the impression, mon ami, that I have - how did you put it? - 'fucked' Matthieu?"

"You'll sleep with anything that moves. And since you were taking care of him for so long..."

Francis scowled. "I wait until the nation is old enough to be independent, unlike Antonio. Though the British Empire must have used other methods to keep its colonies in line?"

"Me? He was under my protection, you git, why would I sleep with him when a good caning would do for discipline?"

A pause.

Arthur blinked at Francis. "So you never...?"

Francis shook his head. "I'd thought for certain you had..."

Another pause, this time of perfect understanding; then Francis whipped out his cell phone and punched in Alfred's number, set it to speakerphone.

Ring.. ring... "'Ello?"

"Ah, Etats-Unis. Tell me, have you ever made love to Matthieu?"

"I- What- Why the fuck are you asking me that?"

"Just answer the question," Arthur growled.

"Jesus Christ NO, Matt's my brother. People usually don't have sex with their siblings, you perverts."

Francis coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Germans," and Arthur grabbed the phone. "Thank you, Alfred. See you at the next meeting."

"Yeah, whatever." Click.

The two nations looked at each other. 'Well," said Francis.

"Indeed," said Arthur.

"Matthieu can't be a virgin, he must have had offers from other nations."

"But did he take them up on it?"

Francis shrugged. "I will make inquiries."

Francis did his best to remain discreet, making it a joke while asking as many of Matthew's known contacts as possible - the Netherlands, Ukraine, Prussia. When no one could claim to have had sex with Matthew, he broadened the net - Norway, India, even Russia. But soon enough, a picture began to emerge: no one had had any success in bedding his former colony.

"It's fucking embarrassing," Gilbert complained at an EU meeting. "It's like he doesn't even notice. One minute I'm asking him if I could lick maple syrup off of his sausage, and the next he's actually cooking me sausage in maple syrup, while wearing that adorable frilly little apron. Gott..."

Elizabeta blushed, and Roderich tutted. "That was rather crude, Prussia."

"Suck it, princess."

Lars nodded, forestalling the argument. "Even when he's high, he just giggles and eats. No grabby hands or anything."

Tino waved a hand absently. "And when Berwald and I invited him over to 'play,' he brought his hockey gear."

"Ya wer'n't s'ppos'd t' say tha'," Sweden murmured.

"Sorry, Berwald."

"S'okay, the same thing happened to Norge." Denmark spread his hands. "Sex in the snow doesn't work so well when one guy's turning it into a snowball fight."

"A- At least he buys me beer..." Raivis hunched his shoulders when the table turned to him. "I g-get carded at home."

Silence.

"Do you know what'd be awesome? A betting pool."

"Oh~?" Spain raised an eyebrow.

"On who can get into his pants first. And I bet five hundred Euros on my awesome self."

"Ve, East, it hasn't worked so well for you yet~"

"Shut up, at least I get invited to his house."

Hungary's hand slammed down. "Pictures, or it didn't happen."

"Deal." Gilbert looked at the rest of the table. "Anyone else?"

Ireland flipped some bills into the centre of the table. "Five hundred on Arthur."

England turned red. "You stupid-"

"C'mon, brother, we all know you have a soft spot for being in charge of your old colonies. Give him a strapping, just like old times."

Greece yawned. "Five hundred on Francis."

"Moi? Well, I'll be sure not to lose to a Brit in a matter of love~"

Arthur broke the pencil he was holding. "Oh, no. Now you're on."

Ludwig sighed as the rest of the table dissolved into chaos. Yet another meeting down the drain.

"I don't understand it," Matthew said, fiddling with his coffee. "One day they're ignoring me, the next they're practically beating down my door."

Alfred sipped his cola. "Maybe they just realised how awesome you are, and are making up for lost time?"

"No, it's like..." He huffed. "Well, Ukraine showed up last week with a new plan for wheat farming and asked my opinion, as if she doesn't have advisors at home. Two days later Seychelles appeared and insisted on cooking me something with a coco de mer, then got upset when it didn't work out as planned. France wanted to take me shopping, Britain invited me out - not over - to dinner, Turkey keeps sending me sweets, and Austria ever-so-politely informed me of a concert and asked if I would perhaps be interested in attending?"

"That doesn't sound so bad, and you reallyneed to get out more."

"Except that it's all at once. I've kicked Gilbert out of my house three times this week, the Netherlands keeps bringing over new varieties of pot, the Nordics were unnecessarily physical in our last hockey game..." He pillowed his head on his arms. "The worst is that Russia's been over every day, asking if I'll become one with him. Sacrament, only Cuba is acting normal."

Alfred's head shot up. "What aboutCuba?"

"Nothing! Just-" He groaned. "I can't get any work done, and the world meeting is coming up again, and..."

"No problem, Mattie." He gripped his brother's shoulder. "Just leave it to me, I'll get them to back off. People listen to heroes."

Matthew poked his face up. "You make this go away, and I'll call you my hero whenever you want."

Alfred was getting frustrated. Every time he tried to call someone to ask what the hell was going on with them and his brother, the answers were pretty much the same:

"Ve, you don't know? Well, see you at the next meeting~"

"You have not heard? But all will become one with Russia, so it does not matter."

"Dude, I have no idea why you haven't heard, but I'm totally not going to be the one to tell you."

"You're not awesome enough to know. Fuck off."

"You- you don't need to know, git. Just ignore it and it'll go away."

"Non, you must not be allowed to interfere with l'amour, mon lapin."

Every day. Every call. (Except for the odd ones like South Korea: "Huh, really? Poor Matthew. But didn't you know persistence was invented in Korea too?") Finally, finally, the world conference rolled around, and judging by Matt's bloodshot eyes, not a moment too soon.

("Antonio and Lovino had a shouting match outside my window last night," he'd said in explanation.)

Matthew slept through most of the first meeting. Not unusual, since usually no one noticed him (Alfred pretended that he wasn't one of the nations who ignored Matt at meetings too). But something tingled Alfred's hero sense. Instead of politely pretending to listen to the speaker - Ludwig, laying out the agenda for the next few days - they whispered among themselves, passing notes and bills. Ludwig seemed to have resigned himself to being ignored, but most unusually of all, they were looking at Matthew.

"Socute~"

"Get your eyes off of him, bastard."

"But if we win, I can buy you another tomato farm."

"Turkey-san, did he receive the lokum you sent him?"

"What are the odds today, aru?"

And so on. When it was time for lunch, he helped Matt stumble down to the coffee shop and left him with a, whatchamacallit, double-double, before going back up to the meeting room for his notes.

He paused in the hall way when he heard voices inside the room. Spain never worked into lunch, and Prussia was being more subdued than usual. And Finland-

"I don't see what's so hard about it, Hungary. Can't you just tell us the standings?"

"Simm'r d'wn, T'no."

Hungary made an irritated noise, probably fingering her frying pan. "It's not that easy, I have my own work to do too. I can't spend every minute of every day keeping track of who goes how far with him. If there was anyone in the lead, it'd be the US-"

Alfred poked his head around the door jam with a smile. "What about me?"

The way most of the nations jumped was priceless, but he beat down the thought - it didn't befit the hero's mission he'd set for himself.

Hungary was the first to recover. "Ah, Alfred! Were you interested in joining the betting pool?"

Ah, a past-time near and dear to his Wild West days. "What's it for?"

Her brow furrowed. "You haven't heard?"

"Nope." He gave her his best movie star smile.

"I thought for sure-"

Gilbert frowned. "This isn't a good idea, Eliza."

"Shush, you." She turned back to Alfred, smiled. "We're running bets on who's going to be the first nation into Canada's pants. Most are betting on themselves, but you have quite the following yourself. Interested?"

"... You're betting on which nation is going to fuck my brother?"

She nodded.

"And you think that I'ma possible candidate?"

"Well, yes. All that blond hair and working-man muscle, combined with your history together... You've already invaded his vital regions at least twice, why stop there?"

Alfred's voice was quiet. "Not like that. I-" He paused. "GROSS! What the hell is up with you people, thinking I'd fuck my brother?"

"No' all 'f us 're bettin' 'n ya."

"Though it'd be really hot." Hungary kept smiling.

"And- Wait. What the hell. What the hell," he muttered as he turned around and walked out of the room. He'd arrived at the stairs by the time the full implications hit him; and then he was taking the stairs two at a time and running back to the coffee shop.

Matthew stiffened as he saw his brother come tearing out of the hallway, trying find a way to explain why Cuba was sitting with him and not across the room, but Alfred barely spared Miguel a glance.

"Matt- They're taking bets- They think I'm gonna fuck you-"

"Take a breath, Al. ... Now, from the beginning?"

"They've set up a betting pool about who's going to have sex with you first, and that's why everyone's been in your space for the last couple weeks, and some of them bet on me, even though we'd never-"

"Well, you do have nice eyes." Alfred paled, and Matthew shook his head, smiling. "I'm kidding. So, where are these bastards?"

"Meeting room. Some of them."

Matt nodded to himself; better to get them all at once. And while the caffeine was doing wonders, another hit would help. "All right. But first I want to finish my coffee."

Miguel snorted, and Alfred turned to him. "What are you doing here, commie?"

"Sitting."

"Why don't you go sit somewhere else?"

Matt interrupted them. "Because he brought me another coffee. Don't we have more important things to worry about than our seating partners, Al?"

"... Fine. But don't think I'm happy with this."

Miguel raised his ice cream cone in a toast. "Wouldn't dream of it, capitalist."

Five minutes before the meeting was due to begin, Matthew walked into the meeting room, flanked by Alfred and Miguel. Most of the nations had returned, though a large clump was clustered around Hungary, scribbling things and passing bills. Since subtle actions hadn't worked - like deliberately misunderstanding Gilbert's use of the word "sausage" or refusing to be pinned in the snow by an interested Norway - it was time for something more drastic.

"I don't suppose any of you considered the fact that I don't want to have sex with you?"

Papers dropped, and most of the nations swivelled to look at him, various levels of guilt on their faces.

"Gilbert, Hungary, I can't say I'm surprised, but most of you should have known better."

Lars grinned, waved a hand dismissively. "I'm just in it for the lulz, Matt."

Figured.

France detached himself from the crowd. "But Matthieu, is there anyone you dowant to make love to?"

"No. So stop interfering with my life, and get back to work."

Ludwig's "Well said" was drowned out by a flurry of comments, most of which added up to "But how do you know if you've never had it?"

Lovely. Just lovely. A room full of idiots who couldn't comprehend that someone might notwant into their collective pants. "One, I wasn't interested in sex before I had it. Two, I'm still not interested. Deal with it."

A split-second before Hungary burst out "Who?"

Annnnd now they wanted all the juicy details, of course. Eh, if it'd get them to leave him alone... He glanced back at Switzerland, who was sitting at the table with Lichtenstein. Vash shrugged, just a tiny movement of his shoulders, and Matt turned back to the crowd. "Fine. Switzerland was over inspecting the Swiss guards France hired for Louisbourg, his ship was late, and we got bored. Happy now?"

"HE WASN'T IN THE POOL!" Poland shrieked.

"Too bad so sad, princess," Cuba said, arms crossed.

"And it's Switzerland, it's not like he's any good-"

Austria coughed, cutting off Gilbert and blushing. "Actually..."

Hungary's eyes lit up, and she slipped her hand into Austria's. Two satisfied, a crowd still raring for details. Jesus Mary and Joseph, wouldn't they be done soon?

England grabbed France's shirt. "So that means you must have abused him somehow, asshole."

"Moi? But who is the one who caned him? A euphemism perhaps, non?"

He waved Alfred back from attack position. "No. No one abused me, even when they were exploiting me-" Arthur and Francis had the grace to look just a smidgeon ashamed of themselves "- I'm just not interested in sex. End of story. Now, Hungary?"

She blinked. "Yes?"

"Give me the list."

She shifted her weight. "What list?"

"Of who bet what."

She didn't answer, so he sighed. "Miguel, Al." The two men pushed their way into the crowd to loom over Hungary.

"The papers, señorita." Cuba extended his hand.

Austria began to pull Hungary behind him, but she slipped out of his grip. "Fine." She pulled the sheaf out of her dress and handed them over. "I'll need copies to return everyone's money."

"Sí, sí." Cuba looked at the figures, whistled. "There's some serious money here, amor - Gilbert adds up to more than a thousand Euros on himself, and Germany had another five hundred on top of that."

"Merci, cher." He ignored France's flicker of interest, and Alfred's growing scowl. "Gilbert, no more maple syrup for you."

"Bastard," he muttered.

"I know. Now," he waved his hand at the crowd, "get to work."

Romano started them moving by dragging Spain back to his seat, glaring at the rest of the room. The clump broke up, mostly avoiding Matt's eyes; he allowed Miguel to accompany him back to their places, Alfred sitting pointedly on Matt's other side.

Matt spent the rest of the meeting plotting suitable revenge for everyone on the list.

Later that night, Alfred swung himself onto a barstool next to his brother. "Hey."

"Hey." Matthew raised his beer stein. "Any word on how Seychelles is enjoying her new cookbook?"

"Upset that it's titled 'for children.'"

"I suppose that wasrather petty of me."

Alfred snorted, fiddled with a napkin. "... Matt?"

"Mm?"

"Why Cuba?"

"Surprised because I'm a capitalist and he's a communist pig?"

"I was going to call you a socialist bastard, but that works too."

Matt ran a finger around the rim of his stein. "I'm not aromantic - I still want to hold hands and cuddle and wake up next to someone, I just don't want to make out with or go down on or have sex with anyone. And between his people and his boss, Miguel literally cannot have sex with a capitalist. So.. it works, for us."

"... Why couldn't you have found a nice capitalist nation to fall for?"

"Hey, just be grateful that half of Europe isn't trying to fuck me anymore. Thanks for your help with that, by the way."

He lightly punched Matthew's shoulder. "Hey, what's an elder brother for?"

"Being a loud idiot?"

"Haha, no. And little brothers are for buying their elders drinks."

"Only if you're up for drinking Canadian alcohol."

"Ew, no thanks. I'll take care of my own tab."

Matthew laughed. "Love you too, Al."

Just a couple things:

Depending on your definition of British vs American forces in the 1700s, the US invaded Canada/New France at least twice (the American Revolution and the War of 1812; though the War of Austrian Succession, the Seven Years' War, maybe others that I forget also apply). Hence Hungary's "at least twice."

"I'm just in it for the lulz." A wonderful anon pointed out that lul = penis (crude slang) in Dutch. *bricked*

The Swiss regiment referenced (the Karrer Regiment) was part of the French Army, and was stationed at Louisbourg, Nova Scotia/Ile Royale/New France 1721/2 - 1745 (before and during the War of Austrian Succession), and elsewhere in the French territories. So not actually hired out by Switzerland, but made up of Swiss people. I fudged it. :D

If you're interested in more information about asexuality, check out: asexuality dot org

I also speak no Spanish and very little French, so corrections on those would be appreciated.