Yeah, I'm totally on a Hetalia kick right now. Anyways, this little fic/idea/thingy has been bugging me so I wrote it out. I don't quite know how to feel about it. I may or may not choose to continue it, but let's see how this is received.

Warnings: possible OOCness, slashy undertones, undertones of incest

Pairing: Kinda Alfred/Matthew (America/Canada)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Really, Al? Don't you think we're getting too old for this?" Matthew sighed, tone laced with annoyance. "And do you have to be so close?"

"Stop complaining, Matt." Alfred pouted. "I'm just trying to protect you from the zombies."

"For the love of maple… It was just a movie." Matthew snapped. Alfred didn't respond but Matthew could see the other nation's stubborn expression and hard blue eyes. His brother was not going to budge Matt realized, and he felt the last of his dissent crumble away.

Looks like he and Alfred would be sleeping together tonight.

But that still didn't explain why Alfred felt the need to press himself against the younger blond's back while eliminating any semblance of distance by looping his arms around Matthew's waist and pulling his brother flush against his broad chest.

When the two nations shared a bed in the past (back when Alfred and he were still living under Arthur's strict gaze), the two would sleep facing each other, fingers intertwined but bodies apart. In the morning, the pale sunlight would stretch across the boys' shared bedroom, spilling across the near identical nations who had somehow, over night, managed to gravitate towards each other. Alfred would be splayed out on the mattress, arms raised above his head and one tiny foot sticking out from under the heavy quilt. Matthew would be curled on top of Alfred, his head tucked under the other's chin, and legs looped around one of Alfred's.

But that was when they were children and their closeness was unintentional.

But now…they were spooning. And the intimacy and tenderness of the act didn't sit well with Matthew. This was unlike their infantile cuddling. This was less innocent than the times Alfred would climb into his bed, claiming that he needed to protect Matthew (even when Matthew could see the poorly hidden terror in his brother's wide eyes). This didn't feel right.

And Alfred seemed to be absolutely oblivious to his brother's discomfort.

Not that Matthew was surprised by his brother's lack of consideration.

He expected it. But that didn't mean he was happy about it.

But, the Northern nation reasoned, he'd only have to put up with it for that night. It's not as though Alfred slept over often. In fact, it had been a long time since they could just relax and watch movies. Both nations had been swamped at work, especially Alfred. Matthew could see the toll that the slew of problems was having on his brother. Though the other blonde was as exuberant and obnoxious as ever, Matthew knew his brother.

He caught the brief flashes of exhaustion in his brother's sky blue eyes. He noticed the lines of tension in the other's shoulders. He could see the way Alfred's hands would shake minutely whenever he shuffled his papers at the World Conference.

His brother was strong, but he wasn't infallible.

And that was why, when Alfred showed up with an armful of horror movies and a cheerful grin, he smiled and sat through the cheesy storylines and cheap special effects. That was why he allowed his brother to cling to him, nails digging deep into his arm and leaving angry red crescents. That was why he allowed Alfred to sleep with him and use him as a human stuffed toy (even though Alfred swore it was because he didn't to be with Matt in order to protect him when the zombies burst through the windows and doors). This was why he pushed all thoughts on how this was strange and felt wrong and how uncomfortable he was.

Alfred never gave him reason to worry in the past. Even back in 1812, Alfred never did any of the... things Arthur had warned him about (because nations aren't so different from people in that they are capable of the most altruistic and pure actions as well as the most inhumane and grotesque).

Alfred never treated him like that, never hurt him like that. Not even when he ravaged York and burned his Parliament and left Canada writhing, in one of his weakest moments, did he do anything.

Strangely enough, even though Matthew knew Alfred would never let anything happen to him, would protect him (as a hero, as a brother), the comfort of his position wasn't always comforting.

"Hey Mattie?" Alfred whispered, breath hot against the younger nation's neck. "You still awake?"

"Yeah. What's the matter?"

Alfred's arms tightened their grip on Matthew's narrow waist and he could feel the solid, warm expanse of his brother's bare chest against his clothed back and Matthew was reminded, once again, just how off this entire situation was.

"You know I love you right?"

"…Al—"

"I mean," Alfred said hurriedly, bull-dozing over Matthew's words," even though I sometimes don't see you—and really you should stop doing that disappearing thing you do, its been decades, you're just showing off now—and I forget your birthday and sometimes I even forget about you and bully you about talking to those Commies—which I still don't see why you bother with them—and I'm not always nice to you, that doesn't mean I don't love you!"

At some point during Alfred's rambling, he had pulled himself over Matthew so that the other nation was pinned under him, staring up with wide violet eyes, with both of Alfred's forearms planted firmly on either side of Matthew's head.

The room was dark, not even moonlight shone through the windows. But Alfred could see Matthew's blond tresses fanned out against the pillows. His eyes flashed slightly with fear caused by the urgency and uncharacteristic roughness that Alfred had employed unknowingly during his speech. And he was biting his lower lip, quietly processing the older man's words.

And Alfred always hated to see Matthew do that. So he gently pressed his thumb against the abused lip and coaxed it away from Matthew's teeth.

But he didn't remove his thumb, and instead idly brushed it against the prone nation's lower lip.

And his eyes were on Matthew.

And Matthew wasn't sure if he should have been so permissive earlier this evening and that night. Because he wasn't quite sure at what Alfred was getting at and he had a suspicion that it was something more than he wanted it to be.

But this was still Alfred.

Matthew swallowed roughly and tried to ignore the way sharp blue eyes bore into him.

"Yeah." He whispered. "I know."

But he didn't feel so sure of it anymore.

Ahahaha--IDK -dies a little bit- Anyways, leave a review and let me know what you think. Please and thank you!