Dominant Nation

Dominant Nation
Disclaimer: I don’t make money from writing this, I don’t own Hetalia or the characters, etc.

This fanfic is written in response to a request on the /y/ board. So I guess it’s dedicated to all the Hetaliafags…hopefully you enjoy!

Chapter 1


After the adjournment of a heated meeting regarding the Lomonosov Ridge, one of the nations slammed the door closed before Russia could exit.

Ivan quirked a brow, a condescending grin curving his lip as he looked down at the shorter nation. “Was there something you wanted to add?”

“I don’t think you realise exactly whose toes you’re stepping on here,” the young nation said icily, his blue eyes intent. “I am the True North Strong and Free, Ivan,” he growled, “and if you think I can be bullied over this, you’re sorely mistaken.” Canada stayed in front of the door, blocking Russia’s path.

Russia rolled his eyes, smoothing out the front of his suit jacket, having left his brown one in the car, although his long scarf was still around his neck. “Get out of my way.”

“No,” Canada said flatly. “What’s really going on here, Ivan? You’ve been getting worse and worse with this attention-seeking behaviour.” He sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Look, I understand that you’re still upset over losing the Soviet States-”

“You understand nothing!!” Ivan snarled, his veil of smugness and condescension vanishing.

“Like hell I don’t!” Matthew snapped. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever had pain-in-the-ass provinces who hate you and have you convinced they’ll walk out on you the minute your back is turned? Stop being so self-absorbed!”

Canada staggered when he was backhanded, straightening quickly when there was an aggressive snarl, jumping in front of Kumajirou and digging the point of his elbow into the bear’s chest until it slowly backed off. “No, no, Kumayoshi, it’s fine,” he said sternly, wiping the blood from his lower lip. “Go outside and wait for me.”

As the bear backed down, growling and glaring daggers at Russia, Matthew unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it, folding it neatly and tossing it onto a nearby table.

Ivan, still seething, watched through narrowed eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This isn’t politics now, Ivan,” Canada said plainly as he undid his tie. “This is between you and me.”

The larger nation sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you actually considering starting a fist fight with me?”

“Of course not,” Canada replied, rolling his tie up and slipping it into his pocket, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and starting to roll them up until they rested above his elbows. “You sucker-punched me, so the fight’s already started. I’m just dropping the proverbial gloves.” He removed his glasses, setting them down on top of his jacket. “You might want to take off your suit jacket as well, because I will jersey you with it.”

“Feh,” Ivan snorted, stalking forward to shove past him, “I don’t have the time or the patience for your childish games.”

Russia was halted in his tracks by a knee to the gut, doubling over; this gave Matthew the height advantage he required to grab the back of his suit jacket, yanking it up over his head and punching Ivan several times as he struggled to get free. As soon as the larger nation dropped to his knees, Canada wrestled him down onto his belly and held him there in a head lock for a few seconds before letting go. Now that the larger nation was flat on the ground, Matthew got up and stood over him victoriously, then leaned back against the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, maple, I’m sorry…did I imply that I was playing?” Canada said in an amicable tone, a cheery expression on his face as he looked down at Ivan, who was shakily maneuvering himself up onto his hands and knees. He tilted his head slightly when Russia remained that way, not looking up at him as he wiped his bloodied nose on the back of his wrist. “Need a hand there, old timer?”

When Russia didn’t answer, Matthew’s smile faded. He put his glasses back on, dropping to one knee and resting his hands on the taller nation’s shoulders. “Ivan?” His expression grew concerned when there was still no answer. “C’mon, Ivan, I’ve kicked your butt worse than that on the ice before. Get up and we’ll go for a beer.”

“Just go,” Ivan hissed, not moving.

“Eh?”

“Get out!” Russia yelled, wiping his nose again.

Matthew frowned worriedly. Something was obviously wrong…he’d felt it when he was sparring with the larger nation a moment ago. Ivan never went down that easy in a fight. Rubbing Russia’s arms, Canada spoke again, his tone serious. “This isn’t about the Ridge, is it…?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Ivan growled.

Canada guided Braginski back and gazed at him seriously. “Try me.” When Ivan shook his head and pulled away, Matthew leaned back a little, watching the larger nation get to his feet, one golden brow rising slightly when he noticed something. “What, are you embarrassed that you’re hard?”

“IDIOT!!” Russia snarled, turning his back on the young nation and straightening his suit jacket out, his head lowered.

Standing up as well, Matt rolled his sleeves back down, approaching Ivan cautiously, his expression pensive. “You’re embarrassed that you got hard when I kicked your ass.” He grunted when he was grabbed by the front of the shirt and slammed back against the wall, meeting Ivan’s cold violet eyes. The taller nation was trembling faintly, his cheeks flushed over the scarf he always wore.

“It…has nothing to do with that,” Russia hissed, his fists still wound tightly into Matthew’s shirt.

Canada reached up and rested his hands over Ivan’s, stroking them a little, a reassuring smile on his face. Russia wasn’t pinning him, he was clinging to him. “Ivan, I’m not a kid and I’m not stupid. You let me win that fight. You wanted me to put you in your place.”

Braginski dropped his gaze, his pale bangs slipping down in front of his eyes. “I shouldn’t,” he mumbled.

“Says who?” Matt returned, continuing to pet Russia’s hands. “Ivan, there’s nothing wrong with wanting somebody to dominate you.”

Braginski cringed. “I…shouldn’t want to be dominated…I am Russia…”

“Uh-huhhhh...and since when did your identity as a nation have anything to do with your sexual endeavours?” Canada stroked Ivan’s knuckles, smiling fondly when Russia’s forehead came to rest on his shoulder. “Y’know, one of my bosses once said that the government has no place in the bedrooms of the nation, and I agree. If you want somebody to dominate you in bed, it’s got nothing to do with your status on the world stage.”

Ivan said nothing, still gripping the front of Canada’s shirt tightly.

Matthew nuzzled Ivan’s temple, reaching around to rest his hands on his upper back, kneading the tense muscles through Russia’s suit jacket. “You’re frustrated, Russia, and it’s starting to carry over into your professional life. You can’t afford that.”

“I have no choice,” Braginski said softly, sagging against the smaller nation, too miserable to feel self-conscious about it.

“Yeah, you do,” Canada said seriously, rubbing Ivan’s back. “You know…the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Everybody expects you to be the big dog in the fight, to throw your weight around as the largest nation in existence, to dominate everybody and everything…and it’s tiring.”

Russia listened silently, although a small shudder ran through his frame.

“You want somebody else to be in control for a while, but you can’t do it as Russia,” Matt reiterated. “There’s nothing wrong with doing it as Ivan. In fact, I think you may need it.”

Russia snorted bitterly. “Who could possibly dominate me? I don’t trust Japan, France is a braggart, England annoys me and I hate America. All the other nations are afraid of me.”

Canada couldn’t help a soft chuckle. “Was my offer too subtle?”

Russia lifted his head, his brow furrowing as he looked at the young nation dubiously. “You?”

“Of course,” Matt replied, smiling a little as he reached out and wiped some of the blood from Ivan’s upper lip. “If you trust me enough to let me be in a position of control over you, in a sexual sense, I’m confident that I can give you what you’re looking for.”

Ivan looked torn, letting go of Canada’s shirt and stepping back, averting his gaze awkwardly. “You actually know about those kinds of things…?”

Matthew laughed. “If you’d ever done a pub crawl in Toronto, you would find a few clubs that are…um…very educational in that respect.” His smile faded and he looked at Ivan seriously for a long moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a Tim Horton’s receipt, taking a pen and writing on the back of it, eventually setting the pen aside and handing the paper to Ivan.

“Those are directions to my place up north. I’ve got a week’s vacation starting on Tuesday.” Pulling his tie out of his pocket, Matthew put it back on and knotted it deftly, then buttoned the cuffs on his sleeves. “Give it some thought, Ivan, if you decide that you want to try it, all you have to do is show up.”

Russia watched as the younger nation picked up his suit jacket and departed, then looked down at the paper in his hand.