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Faux Paw	By : Florville Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 3287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Monkey's Paw is property of WW Jacobs, and I only reference it in passing. Hetalia does not belong to me, and I do not make any money off the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Thanks to compa16 for being a faithful reviewer. This chapter...well, it's about high time I gave a chapter to my pal Growly, for putting up with years of my crap and somehow managing to remain one of my closest friends in spite of it all. Here's to you.

6

After using a transport spell to deposit Matthew safely in his pond (which wasn’t big enough for him to move around in or manoeuvre, but at least it would keep him wet for the duration), Arthur sat down at the edge of the pond and put his head in his hands. “Well, this is a right bloody mess now,” he sighed, reaching back and patting the dolphin’s head when Matthew made a worried squeaking sound.

England…there’s something you’re not telling me, Canada pressed anxiously, feeling a terrible sense of foreboding at the oppressive aura of worry that surrounded the older nation. I’m not just a dolphin, am I? There’s more to it than that, or you wouldn’t be so…

“It’s all right, lad,” Arthur grunted, wishing the boy would leave well enough alone, as he didn’t want to burden him with the knowledge of what his true nature might be in such a form.

Arthur.

The sound of his first name coming from Matthew was strange enough, but stranger still was the stern tone it was spoken in, and the unrelenting look he was giving him. It was a look that, considering it was coming from a fleshy pink sea mammal, was remarkably intimidating.

I can either hear it from your lips, or I can see how much your magical friends know, Canada said in a calm, even tone, although his gaze softened slightly as worry crept back into his beady eyes. Please, England…I’d rather hear it from you. Tell me what I am.

Arthur winced, then sighed heavily, raking a hand through his tousled blond hair. After a while, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and twining his fingers together, resting them under his chin. “A Boto…is a Brazilian variant of the incubus demon, although it’s more half-incubus, half-siren. At night, when they take on human form, they’re frightfully charming, intensely beautiful and very seductive. They use these powers of seduction to either impregnate mortals or to drown them by drawing them into the river. I’ve glimpsed them before, although thankfully the magical wards I use while traveling have protected me thus far.”

Will they protect you from me?

England quirked a brow, looking over his shoulder at the dolphin and feeling a pang of regret when he saw how despondent Matthew had grown. Forcing a smile, he turned and began to pet Canada’s back. “I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing. So long as I’m here and present myself as a viable target, it’ll keep you from wandering off in search of sleeping maidens and possibly transforming somewhere I can’t protect you.”

Canada was utterly distraught, and he went limp, his chin resting on the edge of the pond. This is all my fault. All because of a stupid, selfish wish…England, I don’t want to hurt you. There has to be a way…I can’t…I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you…

“Shh,” England soothed, smiling a little as he petted Canada’s sloping forehead. “Come now, lad, it’s not as if I haven’t handled an incubus or two before. And it’s partially my fault as well, you know.” He shifted around, kneeling at the edge of the pond so he could face the large dolphin that was partially submerged in his garden pond. “If I’d paid attention to you from the start, it’s a wish you would never have made, so we’re equally to blame in this.”

You’re just trying to make me feel better, Canada sighed, although it did make him feel a little less guilty to have Arthur acknowledge the fact that he’d ignored him too much. What happens if I try to drown you?

“To steal one of your brother’s catch phrases,” Arthur replied, bending down and pressing a kiss against the dolphin’s head before rising to his feet, “this isn’t my first rodeo.” He smiled, patting Canada on the head and beckoning one of his magical friends over. “But I do need this short stretch of time before the sun sets to prepare, so I’ll leave Mint Bunny with you. If you need something, anything, just send him to fetch me, all right?”

Realising his position made it impossible to nod, Canada grunted. All right. Please be careful?

Arthur chuckled. “Canada, only you could be turned into a sea creature, stuffed in a pond where you could barely move, and continue to worry about me,” he observed with a fond smile. “And I’ll be just fine. I’ll come out shortly to wet you down again.”

*

The world seemed to shift as the last rays of sunset dissipated and relinquished the skies to the multitude of stars stretching overhead, and the first thing Matthew became aware of was that he had shed his animal form and now had a human body. The next was desire, and it was on a level he’d never experienced before. It was ravenous and consuming, a soul-raging need to breed with or kill the nearest living being.

As he lifted his body from the shallow pool he’d been lying in, Canada cocked his head curiously. It seemed he wouldn’t have to search, as there was already someone waiting for him. Someone familiar…and yet his vision seemed hazy.

“Good evening, Matthew,” came the purr of that familiar voice, the voice of the one he’d always wanted most of all.

“Arthur,” the name fell from his lips like a chorus of dulcet voices filtered through the waters of a bubbling stream, and he approached the blanket where the Englishman had stretched out in nothing but a pair of loose pajama bottoms.

That voice sent shivers down England’s spine which should not have thrilled him in the manner that they did, and he nodded, reaching quickly for the two glasses of red wine that he’d set near the blanket. He raised Matthew’s just in time to block his advance, nearly spilling a little as the lip of the glass pressed against the hollow of Canada’s collarbone. “We have the entire evening, love…surely you can indulge a sentimental old fool in a toast to the desire you’re about to consummate?”

The incubus chuckled, the sound like a multitude of laughter melded into one voice. “I thought you said this wasn’t your first rodeo…and yet you think I’ll fall for a simple trick like that?” he purred, watching Kirkland’s face carefully for any indication of fear, disappointed when he saw none.

“Trick? Hmm, given your nature, I suppose it would look like a trick…” Arthur replied calmly, shaking his head and setting one of the glasses aside. “Let me assure you to the contrary,” he murmured, taking a few swallows of the wine before setting the glass down, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Matthew’s, kneeling up so that he was a little higher and allowing some of the crimson fluid to escape his mouth and flow into Canada’s. When the kiss broke, he was panting, his emerald eyes slightly glazed as he swallowed hard. “Perhaps it would it please you more to share it with me this way?”

“It is pleasing…” came the reply that was both one voice and many. “I will accept your offering if you give it to me in such a fashion, I think.”

Arthur smirked, running the fingers of his free hand through Matthew’s hair, licking his lips and raising the wine glass, sharing another mouthful, then another, pulling away with a gasp when Canada grabbed his rear end and hauled him forward onto his lap. “Ah! Er…well, it’s rather flattering that you’re so eager,” he said with a laugh, somehow having managed not to spill any wine.

“I was eager in my other form, and you did not appreciate it,” came the reply, something menacing dancing in the dark pools of Matthew’s eyes.

“I’m a nation who tends to be a little…reserved, at times,” England explained, taking the last mouthful of the red wine and sharing it with the younger nation. “Matthew knows this.”

Arthur squawked in surprise when he was suddenly shoved onto his back, the empty wine glass rolling away on the grass as he blinked up at Matthew, trying carefully to gauge his mood.

“You don’t seem reserved now, Arthur,” came the observation as Matthew reached for the other wine glass.

The Englishman chuckled, then gave the boy a rakish smile. “My good lad, I’m simply resigned to the inevitable. It is the nature of your kind to either rut or kill the object of their desires, and since I’d find a good shag far more enjoyable than death by drowning, I’ve chosen to facilitate the first option.”

Again, that chorus of laughter fell from Matthew’s lips, sending shivers down England’s spine. “You’ve always been the pragmatic type, England.”

Another wry smile came to England’s lips and he shrugged a shoulder. “I do believe it’s one of the things Matthew finds charming about me.”

“One of many things,” the incubus conceded, tilting the wine glass so that some of the red liquid poured onto Arthur’s chest, pooling on his sternum and dribbling down his sides. His lips curved in amusement at the Englishman’s startled gasp, and he leaned down, lapping up the fluid with slow strokes of his tongue.

“Ah, Matthew!” Arthur groaned, carding his fingers through Canada’s hair, his other hand stroking the younger nation’s upper back. He tensed when Canada pulled back, bushy brows furrowing for a moment until he realised that Matthew had sat up to grab the waistband of his pajama bottoms, which he was now removing. Relaxing again, he allowed it, although he lowered a hand to brush his fingers against his own arousal. “Cheers, I suppose,” he joked lightly, although his green eyes were heavy-lidded.

Canada looked him over, licking his lips slowly. “More like ‘thanks for the meal’, I think,” Matthew’s chorus of voices purred, and he reached out, running his palm from Arthur’s sternum down to his half-hard shaft, running it up the length. “This is really something your Matthew has never sampled?”

“He’s a shy lad,” Arthur said with a hint of defensiveness in his tone, eyes darkening as he grabbed the demon’s wrist. “I will not allow you to mock him or speak ill of his person during this exchange, is that understood?”

Matthew tilted his head slightly, an amused smile coming to his lips. “You say that as if I could not simply kill you if the mood takes me.”

Arthur reached out, dipping his fingers into the wine glass and coating two of his fingers with the fluid, reaching up and trailing the pads of his fingers over Canada’s lips. He shivered a little as Matthew took them in and suckled them with a low purr. “You could…but wouldn’t this be far more enjoyable?”

Smirking, Canada nipped the tips of England’s fingers, watching as he hissed softly and drew them back. “Yes…although you may begin to wish for drowning before the night is through.”

England sat up, leaning back on one hand as he used the other to dip his fingers into the wine, bringing them back and trailing them over his own torso. “I shall be the one to make that determination,” he replied softly, shivering as a bead of crimson fluid trickled down his chest, his breath hitching when Matthew swooped in to lap it up. “Ah, yes…” An encouraging moan escaped his throat when Canada repeated the gesture on his own, sliding wine-stained fingertips over one of England’s nipples and lashing his tongue over it, teasing it with inhumanly sharp teeth.

He managed to stay relaxed as Matthew forced him down onto his back, a shudder coursing through him at the first brush of the Canadian’s bare shaft against his own, warm and silken. It contrasted quite noticeably with the sharp love-bites Matthew was scattering over his neck and shoulders, and Arthur began to squirm, his fingers tangling in Canada’s tresses. “Please…Canada…” he panted, trying to tug his head up, “chuffin’ ‘ell, is it really so old-fashioned to enjoy kissing once in a while?!”

Matthew lifted his head, the surprise of the vehement comment surprising him enough that he chuckled. “You’re remarkably easy to love at times, Arthur Kirkland,” that multitude of voices purred in amusement. Leaning up, he slanted his mouth across England’s, kissing him slow and deep.

Arthur groaned, looping his arms around Canada’s neck, sliding his tongue against Matthew’s and focusing on the sensation, as he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to do this with him again. His hands began to caress Canada’s bare back, tracing the lines and contours of his shoulders and spine, soaking up the softness of his skin. Human skin, and it was warm, and pliant… Matthew really did have a beautiful body.

“You’re remarkably easy to love…almost all the time, Canada,” Arthur panted against Matthew’s lips, looking into his eyes as the younger nation drew back to regard him seriously.

“And do you love me?” came the question as the Canadian stretched out on top of him, dipping his fingers into the wine glass and trailing the fluid over England’s lips.

Blushing, England cleared his throat, grateful for the distraction of Canada’s fingers as he turned his head and took them into his mouth, suckling them suggestively.

“Hmm,” Canada’s many-toned voice purred, and he shook his head. “No, I suppose love is too great an emotion for the mighty Arthur Kirkland to admit to having. It will be your undoing, you know. Or Matthew’s,” the demon said enigmatically, moving back to sit on the blanket, spreading his thighs and dipping his fingers into the wine again, lazily trailing them over his erect shaft, dallying around the head. “If I can’t hear confessions from your lips, then I will enjoy them in other ways, I hope.”

Arthur got up, still a little flustered as he moved forward, nodding absently and dipping his head. The more time he bought himself, the better…and it was with this in mind that he took the flushed head of Matthew’s shaft between his lips, then trailed his tongue up and down the length to catch the drops of wine that had danced along the hot flesh.

Matthew groaned, reaching down and stroking Arthur’s hair, shivering as the sensations drove his lust higher…and yet at the same time, he felt a strange calm descending over him. There was an odd heaviness that was creeping into his extremities, and he found himself beginning to slump forward drowsily. “I…want you, Arthur,” he seemed to whine in protest as England kept suckling him, although with the heaviness in his body, his arousal began to fade.

England lifted his head, licking his lips and sitting up just in time to catch Canada when he slumped forward. “I know you do, luv…but you seem rather tired. Perhaps the change in form took the wind out of your sails? You’re not normally a Boto, in case you’d forgotten…”

“Is that why?” the young nation mumbled confusedly as the Englishman gently laid him out on the blanket and picked up his pajama bottoms. “No…stay like that, Arthur…you’re beautiful as you are,” he murmured in protest, catching the garment weakly in one hand and trying to tug it from Arthur’s grip. “Please.”

Blushing a little at the compliment, and rather surprised that an incubus would say please for anything, England acquiesced, folding the pajama bottoms neatly and setting them aside, stretching out next to Canada on the blanket, stroking his cheek.

“I feel so sleepy…”

“Then ‘ave a rest, luv, I’ll be here when you wake up,” Arthur encouraged, smoothing Matthew’s hair out and tucking it behind one ear.

“You’ll…regret not…taking advantage of this form, Kirkland,” the multitude of voices seemed to slur as they passed Canada’s lips. “Most magical creatures…have hooves and horns…you’ll regret not allowing him to hold you…when he had a human body…”

As the younger nation passed out in his arms, Arthur sighed, stroking his hair. “That’s all anyone does, though…we all take advantage of him. It’s about time that I stopped.” He pressed a kiss against the top of Matthew’s head, guiding him down onto the blanket and getting up, pulling his pajama bottoms back on and returning to the house. Emerging a few minutes later after a rigorous “reverse poison” spell, fully dressed, he opened the doors of his car and returned to where Canada lay.

“Come on, laddie,” he grunted as he wrapped the young nation in the blanket and carried him over to the car, settling him into the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It wasn’t a long drive to reach Regent’s Park, and when they got there, Arthur parked his car and watched Matthew sleeping for a while. Eventually he grabbed the extra blanket from the back seat, then got out and went around to the passenger side, taking Matthew out and nudging the door closed with his hip.

It was a pleasant surprise to find Percy standing there when he turned around, and after the initial jump of surprise, he relaxed and smiled warmly.

“Ah, there you are, old chap. I should’ve figured you’d be wandering around here.”

It’s peaceful here…I like the water. Is Canada still a demon?

England nodded. “Yes, and not a very light one, I’m afraid. I don’t suppose you could help me carry him to the water? I’d do a transport spell, but I’m rather exhausted.”

If he’s still a virgin, I shouldn’t have any trouble carrying him.

England blinked, then burst out laughing. “I thought that was just a myth. How is it that I can touch you, then?”

I…make exception for you, Percy seemed to grunt, shifting from hoof to hoof.

“Er…well, I thank you for that, then,” England replied. “I suppose all we can do is try.”

Waiting for Percy to kneel down on his forelegs, Arthur carefully draped Canada over the unicorn’s shoulders, sighing in relief when Percy stood up and Canada remained atop him. “Well, I guess that answers a few questions.”

Percy gave him a nonplussed look as they walked together toward the lake. Such as?

England blushed, coughing awkwardly into one hand. “Well, to be completely blunt, I was wondering if oral sex counted. I do admit, I’m rather surprised he hasn’t…er…you know, with anyone.”

It is unusual for a healthy male with such a pleasant appearance to have waited more than a century to indulge in pleasures of the flesh, Percy agreed. I would imagine that true love or perhaps religious beliefs are the only things that would inspire celibacy for such a long time.

“Er, yes…quite…” Arthur mumbled distractedly. “If we can just put him down at the water’s edge, when dawn begins to approach, I’ll get him back into the water for when he changes form.”

You obviously care a great deal about him, Percy observed, kneeling down on the grass at the edge of the lake.

Glancing at the unicorn and trying to ignore the blush he knew was on his cheeks, Arthur lifted Matthew from Percy’s back and deposited him gently on the grass, unwrapping him from the first blanket and covering his lower half with the second one. “What makes you say that?”

If it had been anyone else, you would have left them in the pond as punishment for being foolish. You care enough about his comfort to bring him to a lake where he’ll be able to swim around when he takes his animal form.

England considered this, smiling a little and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I suppose that’s true…if it had been Alfred, I probably would have left him in my pond all day to teach him a lesson…not that the silly sod would learn, mind you.”

Perhaps you should devote some thought as to what makes Canada special, Percy offered, gazing out at the water.

“I will,” Arthur mumbled, “but right now I’m a little more worried about figuring out how to change him back to normal.”

They could be one and the same thing.

England glanced over at Percy, his fuzzy brows furrowing as he considered the words, then shook his head. “I’ll figure it out,” he grunted noncommittally. Stretching out on his back, he gathered Matthew up against him so Canada’s cheek was resting on his chest, petting his blonde hair tenderly as he gazed up at the stars. “I will figure it out, Percy. I’ll get everything back to the way it was.”

The unicorn seemed to smile, looking away from where he’d been gazing out at the lake to peer down at Arthur instead. Is that really the right way to go?

“Damn it, Percy, you’re a unicorn, not a bleedin’ sphinx!” England barked, glaring up at Percy sulkily. “If you know the answer, why don’t you just tell me instead of tossing out all these chuffin’ riddles?”

Percy blinked at him, then huffed. Because it’s something you need to figure out on your own, England. I would not be doing you any favours by telling you how to resolve this.

“Fine,” England growled. “I guess it’s one of those ‘you’ll thank me in the end’ bits, is it?” When the unicorn didn’t reply, Arthur sighed and started to pet Matthew’s hair again. “Right, then. I suppose I’ll catch a few winks…wake me if it looks like a copper’s going to mistake me for a vagrant, eh?”

The unicorn was quiet for a moment, although there was a definite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I shall do my best.
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Faux Paw