(A/N: So, this oneshot was inspired by my Science textbook. I was reading it for homework, and I came across some interesting information: during El Niño, Canada and northern America have warmer winters, and eastern America, especially Florida, has wetter winters. I warn you, a lot of twisting of scientific facts and smutty crack awaits.)

El Niño

Winter was just beginning as Canada relaxed in his humble abode, reading over his nation's political matters. All of a sudden, that familiarly stifling heat took over his vital regions and he groaned, slumping onto the sofa. His hands instinctively moved to undo his zipper, which was painfully restricting his sudden erection. "Dammit…El Niño…"

Canada hated El Niño with a burning passion, much like the one swelling in his abdomen. Every three to seven years, Australia, Indonesia, and some other countries were put under pressure and passed off a warm current to the other side of the Pacific Ocean as a result. The warm water wreaked havoc on Canada's body, as he wasn't just a nation, but also Matthew Williams.

Overwhelmed with lust, the North American country felt like a cat in heat as he huddled up on the couch, impatiently stroking Ontario. Matthew was desperate for the warmth to dissipate, but he knew it was futile. No matter how many times he jerked-off, the fervor would always come back.

Release was swift with how turned on he was, and Canada cried out, "Alfred!" as he came into his hand. As the heat temporarily disappeared, the nation looked to the cum on his fingers, the blood rising to his cheeks. Every time, every single time this happened, he involuntarily shouted his brother's name.

Another reason to hate El Niño: it reminded Canada of his feelings for America. For centuries, he'd tried denying the love he had for his brother, but the hot waters always returned to ignite the flames.

It was unbearable to be around Alfred in this state, the desire to just jump him agonizing to resist. Whenever the G20 meetings came around, Canada would either skip or avoid his neighboring country at all costs. Strange enough, America did the same, or he simply didn't notice his brother, which was fortunate for the yearning nation.

What Canada didn't realize, as he was so wrapped up in his own sexual frustration, was that America also suffered from El Niño; possibly, even worse. Aside from the common heat they shared, Alfred had to deal with the constant humidity between his legs. Perspiration formed on his inner thighs, along with the whole eastern side of his body, and he could swear that there was always a bit of precum beading on the tip of Florida.

The worst part of the whole ordeal was the intense wet dreams he had every night, waking up to the damp, sticky mess with Matthew's name on his tongue. It made him feel so sick, so juvenile. He was the fucking United States of America, the world's greatest superpower; not some nineteen-year-old boy reduced to tears by a little semen and unrequited love!

It was incredibly tedious to clean up after his dreams, and it got to the point where America washed his sheets so much that they wore out and tore easily. In an attempt to curb the issue, he tried wearing boxers to bed to reduce his laundry intake, but the muggy feeling that resulted was intolerable. Instead, he just stopped caring and only removed the sheets if absolutely necessary. Most people would find this unhygienic, but Alfred washed off every morning, so he figured it was okay. Still, no matter how many cold showers he took, the heat would not go away, and neither did his love.

Weeks passed, and the inferno inside the two only grew. They lay on the sofas in their respective homes, panting and burning up so much that their superiors thought they were ailing from fevers. Having never been sure throughout all of history what affected the brothers like this, their supervisors allowed the nations to miss the G20 meetings and recuperate.

This particular winter was turning out to be the most excruciating El Niño out of all the ones they'd ever experienced. As they stayed cooped in their homes, their conditions only worsened. It was so insufferable that America cranked his air conditioning up to max power and rolled around naked on the tile floor, desperate to cool off. To anyone else, he would have looked ridiculous, but then again, it was a rare case when something he did didn't look ridiculous.

Realizing his latest approach wasn't working in the least, Alfred whimpered, fervently pumping his dick, but soon giving up on that too. "…Fuck it," he muttered to no one but his lonesome self.

And then it hit him: that was exactly what he had to do. He needed Canada; needed to see him, kiss him, and fuck him. Of course, he'd have to ask politely first. It wasn't really right to just go in and fuck someone without permission. Wait, wasn't that called rape? Oh yeah, that was a crime.

A new determination taking over him, America put on his boxers, doing his best to ignore how uncomfortable it felt. Reminding himself that he'd feel a lot better once he arrived at his brother's house, Alfred swiped his keys from the counter and shoved on his shoes, walking into the garage. Al climbed into the front seat of his car and turned on the ignition, the revving of the vehicle all the more arousing. Rapidly backing out of the driveway, the country sped off toward the highway, on a mission to have sex with his brother.

The drive was taking hours, and America had to clench the wheel harder every time he sensed someone staring in his direction. And why shouldn't they? He looked like a complete mess, and he was only in his boxers and sneakers, with a prominent erection poking out from under his belly. When he finally reached the border, the woman stationed in the booth just gaped at him. "…Kid, you lose a bet?"

"Yeah," he laughed, knowing that the faster he answered her questions, the sooner he could get to Canada. "Do you need to see my passport?"

She nodded, and Alfred quickly handed it over. Within several seconds of inspection, she passed it back. "Where are you going and for how long?" she inquired, which was a natural occurrence at the border.

"To my brother's in Ontario for a few days."

"…Are you bringing a package into Canada?" Normally, she wouldn't ask this, but if a teen in his underwear at the American-Canadian border wasn't somewhat suspicious, she didn't know what was.

"Only the one in my pants," Alfred replied, flashing a seductive smile. And it was a package that he would definitely be bringing into Canada.

Rolling her eyes, she let him pass, deciding he wasn't dangerous; just weird. Successfully crossing the border, America's heart pounded in his chest, his arousal throbbing in anticipation. He was inside of Canada now, but not in the way he desired. Soon, the nation thought, soon enough.

At last, America pulled into his brother's driveway and jumped out the car door. Without a care in the world regarding his utter wreck of an appearance, he hopped up the porch stairs and repeatedly jabbed the doorbell.

Perplexed as to who was visiting him now of all times, Canada sighed and dragged himself off the couch. He rapidly pulled on the boxers on the ground, resenting the chafing between the cotton and his cock. Forcing himself to deal with it since the country couldn't answer the door naked, Matthew trudged to the foyer and lightly pushed the entrance open, expecting to find his superior.

What he didn't expect to find was his own brother standing on his porch in a pair of American flag styled boxers, an obvious boner jutting out from under the red and white striped cloth. Panting hard, Alfred found his own eyes wandering to the similar bulge beneath the red maple leaf on his brother's underwear. Both stood there in mortification, each wondering if he looked as much as a hot mess as the other.

"…I-I hate El Niño," Alfred stated, breaking the silence.

"…I hate it, too," Matthew agreed, realizing for the first time in all of history that America was also affected by the warm water current.

Surprised, America asked, "Really? Why do you hate it?"

"…I-It makes me horny…" Canada answered, diverting his violet eyes to the wood floor. It was humiliating to admit it, but he hoped Alfred could be empathetic.

"Same. …Wait; please tell me I'm not the only one that gets insanely orgasmic wet dreams. At least tell me that it makes your vital regions wet all the time."

Blushing a deep red, Matthew replied, "S-Sorry, you're on your o-own there…"

America gazed at his brother with an intense passion, waiting a few seconds before opening his mouth. "M-Mattie," he addressed his brother, his voice small and childlike, "I love you, and I'm sorry, but can I fuck you?"

When Canada just gaped at him, Alfred felt despair sink into the pit of his stomach. The hours in the car, the public humiliation, and the years he'd spent agonizing over his love, all of it had been wasted. His cock practically screamed at him for leading it on, furiously rubbing against the fabric as it demanded Matthew be fucked.

"…Oh my God," Canada uttered, his eyes wide and unblinking, "I thought you'd never ask."

It was America's turn to gawk at his brother. "A-Are you serious?" he asked, a large grin erupting onto his face as his dick rejoiced.

"Honestly, Al," Matthew began, exasperated, "I love you, I'm horny, it's El Niño, and by God, if you don't shove your Florida up my St. Lawrence River within the next five seconds, I'm going to kill you."

"Ooh, dirty death threats," America purred, pulling the other's nation face closer to his. "I love it." He ground Florida and Ontario together, letting out a low groan.

"Ahhhhh…" Matthew moaned loudly, the harsh friction between them simply delightful as he lusted for more.

"Heh, it's been more than five seconds, and I'm not inside you yet. You gonna kill me?"

"…Race you to the couch."

America growled playfully, kicking off his shoes and chasing after his giggling brother, who all but flew onto the sofa. Lying down with his palms to the ceiling and thin legs spread, Canada invited the other to come inside. Unable to turn down an offer like that from his beloved brother, Alfred climbed onto the couch and hastily tore off their boxers.

"My, my," Matthew teased, "aren't you the eager beaver?"

"Yeah, and you're not." His impatience growing, Al lightly pressed down on the other's anus, earning him a delighted mewl then followed by a protest.

"W-Wait!"

"What?"

"Lube."

"Mattie, come on!" he groused, the heat unbearable now that he was going to get what he wanted.

"You have to use lube! There's no way I'm letting your cock go up my ass without it! That's like, the number one rule!"

"But I didn't bring any!"

"Al, France sends me lube for every freaking holiday of the year, wanting me to be prepared or something. I've got a huge stockpile in the closet down the hall. Get it. Now."

Grudgingly, America slipped off the couch and speed-walked to the closet, throwing the doors open. Sure enough, there was a large box full of bottles of lube, and he grabbed one. "All right," he announced upon his return to the living room, "I got some."

Canada watched as his brother squeezed some of the gel out, lathering it between his fingers. Without delay, he shoved two in at the same time as Matthew gasped sharply. "Sl-Slow down!" he griped as his narrow frame quivered in discomfort, the digits already trying to stretch him out.

"I'm just skipping a step or two," Alfred explained, making a scissoring motion with his fingers to widen his brother's tight hole for infiltration.

"A-Al, please slow d-down!" Canada implored, pained tears starting to well in his eyes. "I need t-time to get used to it!"

"But El Niño-"

"I-I know it's making you crazy and its m-making me crazy, too, but pl-please…sniff…I don't want it to h-hurt…"

Realizing that his brother was starting to cry, America backed off, shame washing over him. "Aw, Mattie, I'm sorry. I'm being an impatient jerk. All right, just tell me when you're ready."

Matthew nodded, letting himself become accustomed to the feeling of Al's fingers inside of him. "…O-Okay, put the third o-one in."

Happy to oblige, Alfred slipped his ring finger inside and savored the soft "Unnh…" emitting from Canada's lips. With permission, he slowly moved the fingers in and out of the entrance, liking the squelching sound it made. "A-All right…you c-can- can- ahhhh…"

"…The real deal?"

"Y-Yeah."

America's excitement augmented with every second he spent slathering the lubricant on his dick, making sure it was completely slicked over. Lifting the other nation's fine backside off the cushions, he carefully lined Florida up with the mouth of the St. Lawrence River and entered him.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh…" Canada moaned, feeling a twinge of pain as the large member filled him. As a natural reaction, his body tightly contracted around the appendage, forcing a guttural groan from Alfred's throat.

"Ow, ow, hey, hey, hey!" he complained, his face strained from the harsh pressure surrounding him. "Mattie, relax your m-muscles! You're gonna br-break me in half!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, nghh, I-I'm sorry… I can't h-help it. I-It hurts."

"M-Mattie, you just gotta relax…" America soothed him, tenderly stroking the nation's inner thighs in calming circles.

"Ahhhhn…O-Okay, I'll tr-try- ahhhn…"

They lay there for quite some time, Canada trying to adjust to his brother's dick inside of him. "M-Mattie, can we please m-move soon, please?" Alfred whined, getting desperate as his thighs shook from the fervor.

"J-Just a little bit l-longer," Canada replied, feeling the muscles around his anus starting to loosen. "…O-Okay, you c-can…"

America didn't wait for him to finish his sentence, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. Oh, this was so much better than he ever could have imagined, the wet friction between them absolute ecstasy.

Rocking his hips along to the rhythm, Canada threw his head back with parted lips. Alfred took the opportunity to ravage them with a rough kiss, searching for that special place with each individual thrust. In the meantime, he teasingly brushed his fingertips over his brother's cock, loving the muffled whimpers he earned.

Matthew suddenly shrieked into the other's mouth as his sweet spot was hit, practically melting from the pleasure. Captivated by the rapture coursing through his veins, the nation moved his hips faster, wanting to be struck there harder and harder. "A-Amer-"

"No," America interrupted, thrusting and stroking his lover's prick one word at a time. "Shout. My. Name."

"A-Al…" his brother tried to form words, too engrossed in the climactic heat pooling in his vital regions. A warm current of semen passed through Ontario, almost like El Niño itself, and Canada arched his back, crying "A-Alfred!" as he came hard. America followed right after him, the contraction around his dick delightfully tighter as he filled the river with cum.

The heat fleeting from both of them, the two groaned and collapsed on the sofa. Although exhausted, America made an effort to remove his Florida from the St. Lawrence River before shifting onto his side so they could both fit on the couch. Still panting, the brothers just lay next to each other, feeling satisfying relief for the first time in a long time. Canada hoped that maybe the heat was gone for the rest of winter; whatever was left of it, anyway.

"H-Hey, Mattie?" Al asked tiredly.

"Y-Yeah?"

"I think-"

The sound of someone's boots clomping through the front door interrupted him, along with a familiar voice saying, "Hey Canada, your boss said you weren't feeling well, and I thought it might be-"

Australia's train of thought crashed the instant he walked into the living room, unfortunately coming upon the sight of the North American brothers huddling naked on the couch. Absolutely mortified, Canada blushed profusely as the nation stared at them, unbearably hyperconscious of the semen dribbling out of his backside.

Glaring at the unwelcome country, America possessively pulled Matthew closer to him. "Do you mind? We're actually enjoying El Niño, for once, so go back to your Oceanic buddies and leave us alone."

"R-Right," Australia stuttered, averting his eyes in light of the awkward situation. "Um, I'll- I'll just leave now, mates. C-Carry on."

Once the nation had walked out and closed the front door, Canada hid his flushing face in his hands. "This is humiliating…"

"Please, I bet he's already blocked it out of his mind. He was raised by prim and proper Iggy, after all."

Resisting the urge to remind his brother that they also were raised by England, Matthew moved on to another topic. "…So, what were you trying to say before?"

"Huh?" America asked, confused. "Oh, right! I was saying that…I think I like El Niño now."

Canada chuckled and snuggled closer to his brother. "I think I do, too."

The winters in North America had never been warmer.