Warning: A little crack-ish.

When Rumors Fly

. . .

Dear world(and all of its wonderful inhabitants),

No, America has not been 'invading my vital regions,' thank you very much.

Everything we do is consensual, of course.

With love,

Canada.

. . .

"So, is it really true?" Seychelles said in a low voice. She twirled a lock of her brown hair anxiously, watching the North American brothers.

"They're not acting any differently," Taiwan whispered back, staring at America and Canada with as much intent. "I think it's a little weird, though."

Seychelles furrowed her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "Weird?" she inquired.

"Well, they're brothers!" Taiwan said. "And did you not read the letter that Canada sent each of us?"

"Love knows no bounds, don't you two silly girls know that?" It was France who suddenly purred into Seychelles's ear, causing the girl to startle.

"France!" she exclaimed, almost bumping into the tree they were hiding behind. "Aren't you...busy?" she asked, cursing herself mentally for her crappy improvisation. How was she to explain why she was spying on America and Canada?

France just smiled(albeit a little perversely). He leaned against the trunk of the tree, all the while being mindful of his rather expensive shirt. "Do not worry, I suppose I'm guilty of spying, as you two lovely ladies," he said slyly.

"Spying? What do you mean?" Taiwan squeaked.

"Spying on America and Canada," France clarified with a bit of a smirk.

Seychelles nudged her friend, eyes widened and frantically trying to convey that they needed to think up of an excuse. "Well...we're not..." Taiwan said weakly, and gave up when Hungary came back.

"I have more film!" the brunette announced with a wide smile, waving her camera enthusiastically. "Hello, France," she greeted, as if all was normal. Strapping the camera around her neck and making sure it wouldn't get damaged, she began to climb the tree.

The three other countries below watched with slight worry.

"What?" the yaoi-obsessed fangirl asked once she was on a thick and sturdy branch. Bringing the camera up to her face, she winked. "I have a great view up here," she said simply, and went about taking pictures of America and Canada.

Then Japan arrived, apparently having gone earlier to get more film as well. He took one look at the pair of brothers in the distance and instantly moved to join Hungary up the tree.

And so the spying began.

. . .

"Don't throw so hard..." Canada managed to gasp out, holding a tender area between his legs. The knees of his jeans were getting worn and smeared with all of the diving he had to do to catch America's throws.

"Sorry, Canadia, but you really gotta move faster!" America laughed good-naturedly. He held out a hand and pulled silly Canada to his feet. Once he saw that his brother was still grimacing, the American faltered. "Hey bro, you okay?"

The meek and strained answer was, "Fuck you."

"Dude, you're not bleeding or anything, right?" Sincere concern shone in America's eyes. " 'Cause that would be really bad. Because we're not supposed to bleed down there. Um. Right?"

"Right," Canada grit out. Really, he wished America would stop talking for just a few minutes.

His internal wish was granted, and silence reigned over them as he tried to recuperate.

Then, America spoke again. "Do you want me to check?" he asked.

"Check for what?"

"If you're, y'know, bleeding."

"...That's really weird." Canada fixed a weird look on his brother.

"Ha ha, I was just joking," America said, that shit-eating grin on his face again. "So, you ready to play again? You can pitch this time!"

"I've had enough exercise for today," Canada refused politely. "I'm gonna get some water...and some ice..."

. . .

"Wait, so you two really are fucking?" Prussia asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

Canada made a face, wiping off a small blob of maple syrup that had been catapulted onto his cheek. "Why does everyone want to know?" he said with a sigh. "No one made a big deal of France and England taking out their sexual frustration out on each other, so why notice now?"

"Well," Prussia began, swallowing, "when the nations walk in on you and America 'copulating,'" he made air quotes, "people are gonna start to wonder, yeah?" He grinned.

Canada sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Can you tell everyone to bugger off?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope!" Prussia said, shoveling more pancakes into his mouth oh, so gracefully. "It's funny." After a thoughtful silence, he frowned. "Wait, you never answered me. Are you two really fucking?"

"Stop being crude," Canada sniffed indignantly. "And I don't think you, or anyone else for that matter, have the right to know."

"I'm just trying to scope out any competition," Prussia said innocently.

Canada ignored him, starting to dig into his own pancakes. A few seconds later, he seemed to process what Prussia had just said. "Wait...what?"

. . .

"What do you have to say about these rumors going around, young man?"

It was England's thickly accented voice that woke America up on a Saturday morning. The rambunctious blonde had spent the previous night getting utterly smashed and the hangover wasn't being very nice on him. Needless to say, he was not in the mood for a reprimand from Mr. Eyebrows.

"Wha' 's it?" he slurred, pulling himself upright into a sort-of sitting position. He fumbled around for his glasses on the nightstand and put them on, squinting at his former guardian.

"The rumors!" England said sharply. "And this!" He pulled out a piece of paper from his trouser pocket and shoved it at America. "I got this letter from your brother a few days ago!"

Looking down, America snickered. It was the letter that he and Canada had written when they were high together from Lars's pot. "Chill, Iggy," he said, leaning against the headboard as his head pounded with pain. "Canada's not really my brother by blood..."

"But that doesn't act as an excuse to...to..." England's cheeks flushed. "To do inappropriate activities!"

"Ugh," someone groaned from under the covers next to America. "Who's being a prude this early in the morning?" A tousled blonde head appeared, two sleepy violet eyes glaring at England.

If looks could kill, America would have fallen over dead from England's stare. "Nothing happened," he promised, though a grin tugged at his mouth.

"Oh, Alfred," Canada sighed semi-dramatically. He was still buried under the comforter, so his voice was a little muffled. "How swiftly you dismiss our love making."

America snickered again despite his headache.

Steam was practically coming out of England's ears. "Alfred! Matthew!" he barked.

Canada groaned, retreating further into his comfort zone. "Go away," he groaned.

. . .

"Everything's so loud," Canada whispered at the breakfast table later on, not lifting his head from where he'd slammed it down. "It's painful. The painkillers you gave me are shit. You are shit. I'm never getting drunk with you again."

America, whose own headache had eased, chuckled as he flipped a scrambled egg. "That's what you said last time."

. . .

Australia watched with an air of slight amusement as America dragged Canada into the McDonald's store. "Hm, I wonder if they are," he said to himself thoughtfully.

At that moment, Sealand seemed to materialize out of nowhere(or he probably walked up to him, and Australia didn't see. But that was because Sealand was really short). "Australia!" the micro-nation exclaimed. Australia would finally explain things to him, right? "What's this rumor about America and Canada that everyone's talking about?"

Australia glanced down at the smaller boy warily. "It's not for little kids' ears," he drawled, petting Sealand lightly, before going off to find England.

Sealand pouted. Mission failed!

. . .

"If they really are sleeping together, I would think that they would be more discreet, da?" Russia said, the smile on his face ever-present. Oh, and he was holding his pipe too.

Hungary wasn't threatened, too determined to find answers to even notice the pipe. "Okay, thank you for your cooperation," she said brightly, and walked away to find another witness.

. . .

"They've been in there for more than ten minutes now," Taiwan almost squealed. "I knew the rumors were true! I knew it!"

Beside her, Japan's mind was flooded with ideas for his latest doujinshi, and a few of them made him blush. "But Mei-san," he said, "we cannot be sure. We need to send someone in there to make sure."

Taiwan was about to suggest that he should go, but then apparently the hot images of yaoi in his brain became too much and the nation fainted. "Oh, dear," Taiwan gasped worriedly, kneeling down to cradle Japan's head. "Kiku? Are you-" She stopped when she saw Denmark walk past. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, rising and let Japan's head fall back to the ground.

. . .

Denmark was just walking around for some fresh air(or, as fresh as the air could get in America) when he was suddenly grabbed from behind before being shoved into the men's bathroom. "What the fuck?" he said angrily, steadying himself on the wall.

"Oh, hello Mr. Denmark," a quiet voice greeted.

It took a while, but then Canada eventually became visible to Denmark. "Hi...kid." He stared at America, who was sitting on the sink. The blonde's leg was bleeding pretty badly from a cut, and Canada seemed to be tending to it.

"Well...I'll be going now," Denmark said pointedly, before making his exit. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a little squeamish. Just a little. "Holy shit!" he yelled when he was ambushed by a girl outside.

"What were they doing?" Taiwan asked excitedly.

Denmark shot her a weird look. "You were the one who pushed me in there!" he accused. "Thanks to you, I have a horrible image imprinted in my brain for the rest of my life!" As in, America's bloody leg.

But Taiwan was thinking of something completely different. "I've got to tell Hungary!" she gushed. She had taken three steps forward when she remembered Japan. "Oh, right," she said with a small giggle, and began to drag the Japanese man along with her.

. . .

"Hungary, it is your turn," Germany instructed. It was the world conference a day later.

Hungary smiled and nodded. She gathered up her papers and made her way to the front, where a podium was standing.

The room buzzed with excitement. Supposedly, Hungary had come up with the answer to the question of America and Canada's relationship, and after a week of much speculating(literally), everyone was more than ready to find out.

"As you may know, there have been rumors going around questioning America and Canada's relations," she began.

"Objection!" Austria called out. "This does not pertain to the meeting!"

"We're not in court, you priss," Prussia snorted.

Canada groaned, feeling a migraine coming on. America patted his back comfortingly, but grinned despite the situation. Across the table, Taiwan took pictures for Japan, who had stayed in the hotel because he hadn't woken yet.

"Anyway," Hungary interrupted loudly, "I myself did not find an answer-"

A collective groan.

"-and so I decided that we must get an answer from the persons in question, instead." She pointed at America and Canada. The latter squeaked and tried to hide himself in Kumajirou's fur. "America and Canada!" Hungary announced. "You must tell us whether you are sleeping with each other or not!"

France thanked God that they'd decided to tie England up before proceeding with their plan. Otherwise he would have mauled my pretty face! He flipped his hair daintily over his shoulder with a small sniff.

"No comment," Canada said weakly.

"Objection!" America shouted, mirroring Austria's earlier outburst.

"Do you even know what that means?" South Italy said snappishly. "Hamburger bastard," he added haughtily.

America stood, hands poised on his hips in a very heroic pose. "Mattie and I aren't sleeping with each other!" he said cheerfully. "We do so much more!"

At once, the entire room burst into chatter. The noise level drowned out Canada's angry mutters, most of which were French curses and directed at his brother.

"So let me get this straight," Netherlands said, motioning for everyone else to shut up. He looked at the North American brothers intently. "You two are..." he said, and proceeded to make obscene hand gestures.

Australia covered Sealand's eyes.

"We're not!" It was Canada who answered in a surprisingly audible voice. "I mean, w-we are, but i-it's...really complicated, and why am I even bothering to answer?" He finished with a small pout. "In conclusion, if anyone else asks about us, there'll be a repeat of Vimy Ridge*." His gaze hardened suddenly(Germany and Prussia winced) as he finished. The personification of Canada sat down with a satisfied huff.

"Your turn is over," Germany said resignedly to Hungary. "Next."

"Wait, I have a question!" Prussia spoke up, waving his hand. "Does this mean I can commence my plan to invade Mattie's vital regions?"

. . .

A groggy Japan walked out of his hotel room, a little dizzy from the small coma that he'd been in for almost twenty-four hours. As he tried to remember which room the conference was being held in, he saw Prussia at the end of the hall with Canada.

"Canada-san?" Japan murmured to himself curiously. He watched as the pair entered the same hotel room, talking lively. "But isn't he with America?" Japan said to himself.

And, since he had missed the entire scene that had occurred in the conference, he reached a radical conclusion. "Canada-san is committing infidelity!" he gasped, and ran off to find the rest of the Yaoi Brigade, ahem, the rest of his friends.

Looks like Canada was going to have some more writing to do.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. It took me, like, two hours, fueled purely by Sprite and cookies. I'll proofread this later, so in the meantime ignore and mistakes. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this little crackfic~

*Vimy Ridge - a battle in World War II where the Canadians totally kicked some ass. Google it!

Edit Note: I edited this and made some small revisions here and there, then accidentally put it as a new chapter instead of replacing the first one... So I apologize if anyone got a false alert!