Enchanted

Title: Enchanted
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairings: EnglandXCanada
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Uh... porn XD And mirrors
Notes: Written for saying_yes_2010, a sex positive fic challenge, with everyone involved enjoying it and giving informed consent ^^

Summary: Canada and England and the boy in the mirror who guides them together.


The mirror is very plain, Canada thinks madly as England removes the blindfold from around his eyes. No gilt or ornate carving surrounding it like England usually prefers, just a sheet of plain mirrored glass leaning against the wall next to the bed. It seems so out of place, too modern when England treasures the historic. Only in music do his tastes seem up to date, and even then his heart lies several decades ago.

England's arms are wrapped around him, one hand against his stomach, thumb running idly over the scattering of blond hair which leads downwards, the other resting lightly against his hip. England's chest is warm against his back and he can see the hot flush on his own cheeks.

England leans his chin against Canada's shoulder, a smile on his lips. "It's an enchanted mirror," he says in a warm voice and Canada can't really tell whether or not he's teasing or being truthful. It could be either; England has never separated the magical and the mundane. "That's why it’s so plain," England murmurs against Canada's ear, nuzzling the soft skin beneath it as Canada flushes and squirms in his lap.

He ducks his head away from the image of that person in the mirror, still feeling like a gangly and awkward colony even though those days are long over. England's finger tucks beneath his chin, tilting his head up gently but firmly so that he has to look, to see the fond and more than fond expression on England's face. "You should look, my dove," he says and there's laughter in his voice. "It doesn't need ornamentation because it's such a special mirror. Doesn't need to disguise itself behind gold and gilt." A kiss is pressed to the back of Canada's neck. "It shows only special things, precious things, beautiful things."

Canada wants to point out that he is not particularly special. He is one country amongst many and he is not the largest or the strongest or the richest, but his words are stalled when England waves a hand in front of him towards the mirror. "Mirror mirror on the wall," he purrs and Canada can't help but laugh at that and the way that his laughter makes England smile makes him feel warm inside.

Canada tilts his head to one side as England nuzzles his face there, hot pink tongue flicking out against his skin leaving dabs of warmth that trail from neck to collarbone, to shoulder and back again while England's fingers smooth down his sides, thumbs rubbing circles against his hips.

The boy in the mirror with deep blue eyes and the trailing lock of hair that never can be tamed has his mouth open slightly in a pant as the wizard touches him, pink lips glistening with saliva as he licks them once, twice, eyes trembling shut for just a second.

Canada feels hardness pressed against the small of his back and knows that he is desired but England moves slowly, kissing the back of his neck, the curve of his spine, each nub of vertebrae touched in turn until he can reach no lower. His fingers curl into coarse blond hairs for a moment, touching his inner thigh before skidding lightly along the length of Canada's cock.

The boy in the mirror shudders and gives a soft moan, head tilting back, lips pursed around the sweet noise, cock twitching as the wizard strokes him, cupping his balls lightly, fingers sliding further back.

“May I?” England asks him, lips against his cheek, velvet soft.

The boy in the mirror nods, chest rising and falling in quick little pants as he spreads his legs a little for the wizard.

England reaches behind himself, snags the well used tube of lubricant and smears some over his fingers, letting it warm against his skin before he presses up against Canada again, finger rubbing lightly between his legs, against his entrance before pushing the tip inside, crooking slightly before sliding the rest into him.

The boy in the mirror gasps and squirms, cheeks flushed a high red and he pushes down against that finger as another is slid inside, rocking against them, shameless and gorgeous, sweat beginning to glisten against his skin. He raises a hand behind him, to cup the back of the wizard’s head. “Please… England,” and his voice is strained and breathy and lovely.

Canada wonders if this is what England always hears, always sees and it must be such a magical world. Canada stares into the mirror and lets the enchantment take him.

England laughs, rich with affectionate amusement and leans over to kiss Canada, deep and long and it’s Canada who kisses back, tasting bitter tea and rich cake and lust on his tongue. England nudges him up onto his knees as he rolls a condom down onto his cock, slicking it and stretching out his legs again over the edge of the bed. Canada feels him rest against his back, his cheek peach soft and his hands calloused and rough where they grip his hips, coaxing him backwards and down, down onto him, into his lap once more, being spread and stretched and filled and completed, and if it burns a little, it can only be because England is too hot, just as flushed and desirous as Canada feels.

They rest there, joined intimately, England’s arms around his waist, lips pressed against his shoulder until finally they move together, up and down, surging like snowfall, like the sea, hot and panting and now he can see the sweaty flush in the mirror, that England’s eyes are locked onto him, watching, always watching and Canada can only look back as they slide against one another, the sweet thrust of pleasure inside him, coiling deep and tight in his belly and in his cock. He touches, fingers sliding along England’s thigh, feeling taut muscle which flexes as England moves inside him, the curve of England’s hip bone, the tight stomach normally hidden beneath suits reminding Canada of fiercer days. He grins, rubbing back against England, seeing the boy in the mirror do the same and it’s a good smile, a hungry, vibrant expression, matched by England’s own and he thinks it’s beautiful.

England’s hand wraps around him, stroking him with quick deft movements, leaving Canada gasping and moaning, whining as he thrusts up into that hand, rubbing against him. He feels lips against his neck, moving quickly; England is speaking as he strokes Canada to completion and he catches only a few words. “’Canada,’ the mirror said. ‘Your love, your Canada, he is the fairest of them all.’”

And Canada comes, laughing, unable to hold back soft breathless giggles at England’s words, even as his orgasm overtakes him leaving him slumped hard against England’s chest, and England is laughing too, deep chuckles which Canada feels against the back of his neck as England shudders against him.

He finally catches his breath, finds himself pulled down into the bed, England’s softening cock still inside him, wrapped in warm strong arms. He pulls away, letting England slip out of him and turns, curling up against his chest, reaching out to touch England’s smile, the happy quirk of his lips, feels his own smile blossom when England kisses his fingertips teasingly. He stretches out his arms, touching every bit of England’s skin that he can reach, touching and being touched, wrapped up in each other, and maybe the enchantment has sunk into his skin because the mirror just shows himself and England, two precious things.