Title: Oh Christmas Tree
summary: What oh what is a Canadian to do when his home is broken into on Christmas eve?
“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas treee, F**** you and your branchesss~”
The white-haired man sitting on Matthew’s couch hiccupped and chuckled to himself at his own clever rendition of the popular Christmas carol. He took a swig from the beer in his hand and then settled back against the couch. Matthew still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell the man this wasn’t his house.
He had been hiding in the kitchen since half an hour ago, when the albino man previously mentioned had kicked in his front door (he rarely kept it locked) and drunkenly stumble to Canada’s couch. Matthew had come down from his room, noticing a draft, and had promptly went into heart palpitations on seeing a stranger lying the futon. Needless to say he decided to confront the man at a later time, and thus retreated into the kitchen and hid behind the door.
“Hey…Hey you! M-Matthew!…c’mere. ”
The cowardly nation froze in surprise when he heard his name. This guy…Prussia, was that his name? Yes, Prussia was definitely it, he’d seen him before at conferences…Prussia knew his name? He knew Canada existed to begin with? Curiosity finally got the better of his judgment. After all this guy was drunk, but he didn’t seem very threatening… Cautiously, Matthew crept into the living room.
The Prussian man eyed him glassily as he entered the room, surveying his unwilling host with an air of mild indifference. As soon as Matthew entered the room however, Prussia jerked his head in the direction of the still open door. “Close th’ door, will ya? My awesome ‘s getting cold.”
The Canadian stared at the inebriated ex-nation in disbelief. This guy knew this wasn’t his house, knewww he hadn’t been invited, and now he had the nerve to tell Matthew to shut the door? Canada felt his often-repressed temper flair, but just as he was about to start ranting, the Germanic nation turned his eyes back to the blond and flashed him a disconcerting smile. “ Waiting for something?”
Matthew quickly walked across the room and closed the door. Then, deciding the kitchen did after all need more decorations, began a hasty retreat. “S-sorry, I’ll just let you-”
“Wait.” The red-eyed man on his couch suddenly staggered up, grabbing a handful of Canada’s nearby Christmas tree for support. Slowly he made his way toward the blond, swaying slightly. The unfortunate nation began to back away in panic, but the Prussian was too fast. Lurching forward, he caught the sleeve of Matthew’s hoodie, effectively preventing escape. He was so close now that Canada could smell the beer on his breath. “You’re staying here.”
Matthew started to tremble, purple eyes clouded with fear. He lowered his head and clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the beating he knew must be coming next. This sudden reaction caused the ex-nation to blink slowly in surprise, and he looked the shaking nation over unsteadily. “What, ‘re you cold ‘r something?”
Matthew raised his eyes slowly, uncertainly. “Y-you…you’re going to hit me now, right? I mean, you think I’m America obviously and you want to ‘get even’, don’t you? Please just get it over with quickly…”
Prussia looked at him incredulously, “W…wha’? Why would I confushe you with that tool Alfred? I know who y’ are…you’re Matthew Williamsh, Canada, ” He slurred triumphantly. “Now…stay here, or better, get me some beer ‘n turn on the TV.”
The cowardly nation did as he was told, puzzled. No misplaced beating? Not willing to push his newfound luck though, Matthew quickly dug through the refrigerator and returned from the kitchen with two Molsons* in hand. He found the ex-nation seated back on the couch again, waiting for his return. Prussia stared up at him and nodded in satisfaction. patted the seat next to his. “Sit down.”
Matthew flicked the TV on to a random Holiday special and, after some hesitation, joined the other nation on the couch. Prussia immediately slung his arm around the blond and lazily turned his attention to the television. This was turning out to be one of Canada’s more bizarre Christmas eves, being held captive in his own home.
The ex-nation of Prussia, oblivious to the blonds obvious discomfort, relaxed further into the couch and made himself comfortable. For the most part he seemed to ignore Matthew, eyes darting back to him only occasionally to check if the other was still there. After the albino man had laughed through the scene where Rudolph’s parents were kidnapped by the Bumble, Matthew finally screwed up the courage to ask.
“So um…P-Prussia?” the Germanic nation flicked his eyes slowly to the nervous man under the crook of his elbow. “Call me Gilbert.”
“Gilbert…” Canada began again, tentatively, “Um…I mean, I-I don’t mind or anything and I um, I’m not trying to be rude but…why exactly are you here, again?”
Gilbert’s eyes darkened and Canada flinched, expecting pain. Instead though, the albino man sighed, slowly removing his arm from around Canada’s shoulders. Red eyes glanced away, and Prussia’s cheeks tinged a deeper red than the norm left by alcohol. He mumbled, and Matthew had to lean forward to get the words. “ ‘ just felt like it.”
Canada felt his pent up frustration with this uninvited visitor get the better of him, “It’s just because, um, you kind of kicked down my door, and you know, collapsed on my couch and drank my beer and I really think you should-” Whatever his next words would have been, they were abruptly cut off by a pale hand across his mouth.
Prussia rolled his eyes and gave the Canadian a lopsided grin. “And here I thought you were the quieter one.” Matthew simply blushed in reply, the fingers on his lips effectively subduing him.
Gilbert continued as if nothing was amiss. “So you wanna know, huh?” The Prussian leaned his head back as if contemplating, “Well honestly, I just figured, ‘hey, who doesn’t want to hang with awesome me on Christmas?’ And, since I knew you would be alone and all my friends are um…busy, you deserve most to be graced with my presence. Oh yeah, and I also wanted to tell you that-” Here he suddenly stopped, his train of thought catching up to his mouth. “Uh, nothing.”
It could’ve been the latent affects of the beer, but Matthew thought the ex-nation suddenly looked nervous. He gently prized the hand off of his mouth and after taking a deep breath asked curiously, “Tell me what?”
The TV began playing “Frosty the Snowman”. The albino man’s reply was not forthcoming, but Canada attributed this to the change in movies engrossing his attention. He realized with a start though that Gilbert’s eyes were instead fixed intently on him, and not only that, but he seemed to be struggling for words. Matthew had really known this man all of two hours, and already he could tell this was unusual. “Um Pr-Gilbert…?” he tried, worriedly.
All at once Prussia’s staring softened and he looked at Matthew pleadingly. “Matt, I…I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time you know. I mean, you’re probably thinking hat because I’m so awesome I could just talk to anyone, but I uh…I just got a little nervous, so what? I mean you…you and I aren’t that different, you know? Ever since I…lost status, I started noticing that people wouldn’t listen to me as much. Why listen if I don’t even have my own country? Well, don’t get me wrong, West and his hot piece of Italian boyfriend do, but it’s not the same. And then…I noticed people weren’t paying attention to you at meetings either. I thought that was stupid, because hey, you’re an actual nation. You have just as much power as any of those jerks, especially your brother…I started noticing you a lot more, around meetings and stuff, and I noticed something else. You…” The ex-nation blushed, looking at the ceiling, anywhere but Matthew’s face, “Maybe all you needed was what I wanted, someone to…give you attention.”
Matthew stared up at the man next to him, at a loss for words. Gilbert had noticed him before? This wasn’t some joke of fate, someone actually wanted…just to spend time with him? His mind reeled and unconsciously he leaned closer to the Prussian, wanting so badly for any of this to be true.
Gilbert stared back into his eye and then, he reached forward. Gently, much more gently than the Canadian would’ve expected, he brushed Matthew’s bangs off of his face and caught his always-stray curl, twirling it around a finger. Playing with it, he shot the blond a lopsided grin. “And who knows, maybe it’s the booze talking…but you don’t seem to hate the idea.” He shifted back into a more cocky persona, “I mean, why would you, but at the very least you haven’t thrown me out yet.” He seemed to be waiting for a
reply, the tiniest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
Truthfully, just sitting there on the couch watching a Christmas movie while a strange man was playing with his hair, Canada was a bit confused. Yet despite this, he found that he didn’t want to say no. Sure, this guy definitely had ego issues but…Matthew could tell he wasn’t lying. He was lonely too, and he wanted to spend his Christmas with someone who he knew could relate, who would understand…like Matthew.
Prussia almost fell off the couch in surprise at the sudden hug his midsection got from the Canadian. Gilbert spluttered a few half-formed exclamations, but didn’t push him away. Matthew straightened up and looked at him, blushing. “I…I would like you to stay with me for Christmas, please.”
Gilbert’s eyes went wide with disbelief. Then he looked away, cheeks coloring. He shrugged his shoulders nervously, but Matthew could tell that he just wasn‘t used to people responding like that. With Sincerity.“…Thanks, Matt.” Prussia said nothing else, but he pulled the other nation closer.
A few hours later found the Canadian watching the flickering screen of the television sleepily. He was halfway through one of the classic Christmas movies, but he couldn’t exactly remember which one. Next to him, a white-haired man lay sprawled across the couch asleep, head lolling on Matthew’s shoulder. The purple-eyed nation smiled in spite of himself and made the Prussian more comfortable on his shoulder. It had been the weirdest Christmas ever he decided, and with that the tired Canadian closed his eyes. As he nodded off, Matthew found himself hoping only one thing. He hoped next year would be just as weird.
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* Molson= a Canadian beer