Title: The Meeting Room Is For Serious Business Only

Genre: Humour, General

Pairings: Main AmericaxCanada, side WorldxCanada, side Canon!pairings?

Warnings: Swearing, Crack, BL

Summary: Sometimes you realize, you didn't look as close as you should have. America is unhappy with this revelation especially since he's the last one to realize this. This results in? Competition. Things that happen outside the meeting room.

A/Ns: So the title has nothing to do with the actual fic itself. Now, this is a guilty pleasure fic thus I'll filling it with things I really like and want to see (i.e. Protective!Alfred, Fluster!Stillignored!Matthew, abused!ahoges, etc.) I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do.

[Edit: I'm an idiot and put some inaccurate info in here. Sorry, it was midnight when I wrote it. Please forgive me!]

Start Date: December 4, 2009

End Date: December 5, 2009

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The novelty hamburger-shaped alarm clock went off at 9 o'clock in the morning exactly, filling the dark room with recurrent ringing. The sole occupant groaned in annoyance, wincing as a stream of bright sunshine from the curtain-drawn window fell across his closed blue eyes.

After a couple more minutes of ultimate alarm clock endurance, he admitted defeat and rose from his warm bed. Turning the alarm off, he jabbed the power button for his stereo. Music blasted out at decibels close to airplane departures.

Surround sound. Fuck yeah.

Kicking a stray pair of pants to the side, he headed to the adjoined bathroom, bobbing his head to the heavy disco beat.

"Young man, there's a place you can go. I said, young man!' he shouted along to the music in the shower, 'when you're short on the dough. You can stay here, and I'm sure you will find many ways to have a good time!"

Slapping a towel over his wet hair, he sauntered over to the white porcelain sink, grinning into the steamed mirror.

" …they have everything that you need to enjoy, you can hang out with all the boooooooys…"

Rising a blond eyebrow at his reflection, he pulled out the blue and red toothbrush from the metal stand. It spun with ease and perfect control in his hand like a gun out of its holster.

He mock-aimed at his hazy reflection before smearing mint toothpaste onto the white bristles, singing all the while.

It was probably a bad idea to sing with toothpaste in his mouth.

"It's fun to stay at the Y. M. CUHgaaAAAAaaaack-" he choked, spitting out the foam and toothbrush into the sink.

Scratch out that 'probably'.

At that moment, someone was beating furiously on his door.

"Alfred! Get the fuck out of there now! The meeting is in ten minutes, you wanker," Arthur screamed at the polished oak door. The shiny metal plaque bearing the engraving AMERICA glinted innocently back at him.

Somehow the British man felt offended.

"And turn down that sorry excuse you call music, it's making my ears bleed!"

With that final note, he stomped down the hall to the meeting room in a huff of swelling irritation.

Oblivious to the commotion, Alfred continued his morning routine, one hand combing down his damp locks with a fine toothed comb and the other rubbing his chin.

Hmm, still no stubble.

He brightened up when catching sight of his frown in the mirror.

A hero should never look so defeated!

Whimsical humming overpowered by the sheer volume of the music, the blond squinted through the darkness at the blurry objects on the carpet then deciding on the principle of eeny-meeny-miny-mo, chose his outfit for the day. Flicking on the light and jamming Texas on his face, he ducked back into the bathroom to check his appearance.

Fabulous.

He blinked and coughed.

Awesome.

"That's better."

Pulling on his socks as he hobbled towards the door, he pocketed the keycard and grabbed a manila envelope of what should be important documents. The soft black wool of his bomber jacket tickled his face as he shrugged it on.

Tapping on his shoes, he grasped the doorknob and opened it with a flourish, stepping out onto the sun-bathed hallway.

"Another great day in America."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So he lied, the meeting wasn't held in America. He couldn't quite remember which country he was in, maybe Belgium, since he had fallen asleep on the plane ride over. Besides, he did this every couple months, there's not much point to remembering where it's held every time, right?

He whistled his national anthem shrilly, strolling down the hall at his leisure.

There was some sort of commotion down by the meeting room entrance.

"Hey! What's up?" he yelled at the crowd. No one replied, too busy being busy with something that was not Alfred.

Well, that ticked him off since that shouldn't be possible.

"Alright, alright, what's the hold up?" he shouted over the hubbub, pushing his way into the crowd of personified nations.

"Oh, Alfred-san, good morning," Japan greeted. The demure man was standing at the edge of the crowd in an off-standish manner. Curiously, his fingers seem to twitch towards the camera hanging around his neck.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

"Ah, that would be Canada-san…"

"Canada?" America raised an eyebrow, racking his memory for a clearer explanation.

Canada. Let's see.

Brother of his, possibly twin, blond, hair thingy, maple syrup, maple leaves, maple-maple…

And that about covers it. So what was so interesting about his brother that everyone is involved?

He decided to find out.

"Open the way! Move it!"

Elbowing his way through the crowd, much to the crowd's displeasure, he nearly rammed right into Russia and Belarus who hissed at his proximity to her beloved brother. Alfred paused for a moment and observed the area. There appears to be some sort of impregnable ring of people separating from his desired designation. He scouted for a weak point in their defense and executed the optimal choice, crashing his way through between Hungary and Belgium.

"What is going on here?"

Inside the ring of people stood Canada – Matthew – looking slightly underdressed, where did his coat go anyways, and clutching his arms to his chest. The polar bear he insisted on dragging around everywhere was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, Al," Matthew sighed almost in relief. "I-"

"Don't lie, we saw it!" Hungary interrupted, a furiously blushing Ukraine to her left. Belgium nodded fervently in agreement, staring intense at the timid Canadian.

Did Bella just lick her lips?

Weird.

"What lie?" Alfred asked.

Now his curiosity has been piqued.

"N-nothing! Nothing at all!" Matthew squeaked, hiding his front to the best of his abilities. "I-it just shrunk in the wash and-" He seemed to shrink under America's disbelieving scrutiny.

"Some assistance!" the American snapped. An eager France appeared at his side.

"F-francis! W-wha-" Matthew stuttered as his arms were pulled behind his back and held firmly in place. It was useless to struggle but he attempted anyways.

"Hmm," Alfred hummed, leaning close and examine Canada's torso. Said nation's face steadily reddened.

"Hmmmmmmmmm."

Alfred looked up, peering into the blue-violet eyes staring fearfully around him.

He frowned.

Ignored again? What was the world coming to?

Maybe he was too close. He could practically count the individual threads in Matthew's tight t-shirt.

T-shirt?

He leaned back a little.

Yup.

Backtrack.

Tight?

He allowed his eyes to roam down his brother's upper body.

Tight.

Ignoring the rekindled mutters issuing from the crowd around them, Alfred blinked, polished Texas with the corner of his shirt and looked again.

Maybe it was an optical illusion.

Perhaps a closer inspection was in order.

Unceremoniously, he grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and yanked it up to Matthew's chin, eliciting a squeak from the Canadian and several high-pitched squeals from the girls.

Cue louder muttered conversations from surroundings.

Was that a camera flash?

"Hmmmmmmmm."

Nope, it was still there.

He reached up with one hand and traced the light muscle contours of his twin's body.

"A-al…" Matthew protested weakly, shivering when the finger dragged across his exposed skin.

"Hmm."

Alfred assessed the entire situation as a whole. Matthew blushed harder from embarrassment and nervousness as his brother looked him up and down.

Then all at once it made sense.

"Well, fuck me, Mattie, you have a nice body. Where have you been hiding it from me all this time?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/Ns: OTL. The crack. I'm sorry if someone is out of character. I just had to tap this out. I'm also sorry of there are mistakes in this, I have a tendency to typo words into other words and I didn't have a beta look over this. Hope you enjoyed it? I'll have more once I get time to write.

Thank you for reading!