More than Meets the Eye: Amok Time for America

“Alright, these are our choices this year.” Canada looked up from his
seat on America’s massive bed and over the footboard  to where his
brother knelt on the floor with what must’ve been several dozen
printouts spread all over like a map for battle. A large scrapbook
still on his lap he blinked a few times, opening and closing his mouth,
making a few false starts, and finally sighing.

“I thought you said you narrowed it down.” He crawled over to the edge of the bed setting the book aside.

“Bro this is narrowed down. You should’ve seen it a half hour
ago.” Canada wasn’t sure he really believed that but there were some
battles that just weren’t worth fighting.

“And you’re letting me pick this year?” he asked suspiciously changing
the subject. “You’re not gonna do what you did last year and
“accidentally” reserve the wrong hotel and tickets?”

“Dude, for the last time, that was totally an honest mistake.”

“An honest mistake that you just happened have the costumes already made up for? Yeah, and Arthur’s just a “social drinker.””

“Hey, a hero always has to be prepared, right?” America grinned
completely unrepentant and Canada just sighed and realized there was no
winning this one. American naturally seized on the silence.

“So… you’re sure you don’t want to go to the Star Wa-“

“No!” Red faced, Canada interjected furiously. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw c’mon, I promise I won’t-“

“No.” Canada grabbed the large album on the bed holding it up expressively. “You see this? You remember this?”

“Hey that so wasn’t my-“

“Let’s dress up for the convention, Mattie,” Canada parroted in a
rather impressive mimic of his brother’s overly enthusiastic cadence.
“I don’t know why I thought in any universe that was a good idea…”

“Hey you were a totally hot Princess Leia.” America stood up and
grabbed the scrapbook cheerfully. “I mean look at this, you even looked
better than that blue chick with the massive-“

“I was supposed to be Luke! You were supposed to be Han Solo!” Well yeah, there was that but really, Canada didn’t have to be such a prude about it.

“It could’ve been-”

“You got me the damn slave girl outfit you stupid hoser! And I don’t
care what you say I swear you did it on purpose!” Canada yelled at him
with a shove. “You made me miss the entire convention!” Canada lunged
at him and America caught his brother easily rolling them both over,
pinning him with that stupid shit eating grin still on his face the
damn book under one arm.

“I made you miss it? Jeez you sure have a selective memory. Or
did you forgot all about “Harder Al, more more I don’t care how sore I
am just do it…”?”

“Sh-shuttup, jerk.” Canada looked away with a huff. “You didn’t have to listen…”

“Uh huh… yeah, like I’m gonna say no to that.” He licked the tip
of Canada nose playfully then sat back up opening it back up. “Besides
you would’ve overslept anyway and you know it.” He flipped through the
carefully arranged photographs all pasted onto the acid free archival
quality paper with stars on it of course and stopped at the two of them
posing in their room with Mark Hamil. “Admit it, you had fun.”

Canada sat back up finding it hard to stay glaring when he looked at
the picture of the three of them. Of course he was wearing pajama pants
and a t-shirt and America was half holding him up because he’d been so
damn sore that even the thought of standing made him wince but his
brother had stayed with him nearly the entire weekend, sacrificing his
own time at the convention to rent a Nintendo and play Super Mario Bros
3 with him. Okay so it wasn’t the worst time he’d ever had at a
convention. No, that was definitely reserved for the following year
when America got them thrown out of Star Trek Las Vegas- clearly
whatever happened in Vegas didn’t just stay in Vegas, it also got you
ejected from a hotel- and ohh it had taken a few more years before he
agreed to go to another one. And of course as soon as they went to
Gallifrey One there was something about him dressed up like The Doctor
or “Oh my god Ten” as America liked to say that once again went right
to his brother’s groin and resulted in them barely making it to the
convention floor a third time. At least he managed to make it a an
actual panel that year.

“Yeah… yeah we do have fun,” he conceded at last thinking that hell at least it was normal non political time with his twin.

“And you got to be Luke a few years later,” America needled him with an
elbow as he flipped through the book further in. “Remember those
awesome light sabers we had?” Canada definitely remembered those… “And
hey, your arm grew back, right?” Yeah, yeah that was the part he
remembered the most about that.

“I have no idea how you convinced your boss to allocate a portion of
military spending to build those crazy things.” America just winked as
they both looked at the big picture of the two of them, light sabers in
hand carefully lettered underneath in green computer type with “Fuck
Yeah”.

“Hey, Dubya was the shit, Mattie. I cut him in and we were in like
flint.” Somehow the thought of America’s former boss with a bonafide
light saber didn’t exactly sit well with him, but they had far more
important matters to discuss. He smiled as America turned the page and
there was a photograph of both of them sitting in the hospital with
matching stumps. That was probably the only reason that year’s
convention didn’t end in some crazy sci fi sex marathon.

And speaking of which this year Canada was bound and determined to
actually enjoy the event in its entirety. Really he’d almost given up.
No matter what they cosplayed as America just couldn’t help but pounce
him no matter how much he swore there was nothing sexy about the
outfit. The longest he’d lasted was the previous year as one of the
borg but even that…

“Helloooo, earth to Mattie.” America was waving a hand in front of his face and Canada just smiled at him.

“Alright, Al, I got it. This year is Botcon.” And he waited while
America digested that because he was sure it wasn’t even an option
since the big Beast Wars Blowup of ’95.

“You’re… sure?” America looked like he was only daring to dream that
Canada had really said that. Canada nodded. No, he definitely hadn’t
heard wrong. Because if there was one thing that no one could find
fucking sexy it was 18 foot robots with no reproductive parts. “Really
really sure? “cause I swear you told me when I asked you a few years
ago the only way you’d ever even talk about Transformers with me again was at gun point.”

“Super double deluxe positive,” Canada answered with a big grin and
almost asphyxiated when America caught him in a massive bear hug and a
loud cry of “OhmygodMattieIloveyou!”

All in all the bruised ribs were well worth the thanks he got a few moments later.

___

Okay yeah, so Canada was never going to another convention with his brother as long as he fucking lived and this time he meant
it. Next year he was going with Japan. As creepy as Japan was wheeling
around a wheelbarrow full of H manga it was nothing compared to
America’s half assed attempts to stop leering. God I give up. Dear Lord if you let me get through this I swear I’ll give up my special brownies for good. Because
only America- only his crazy sci fi obsessed brother could possibly be
standing there looking at him with almost a fucking hard on in the
middle of the dealer’s room while he was dressed like this.

“Isn’t the new Starscream supposed to be silver?” Canada looked at
the red white and blue outfit that was currently attached to a rather
impressive likeness of himself in the hangar of the old Area 51 hangout
America liked to call his “man cave”. And dead center of the massive
sprawl of never opened action figures and old 1950’s pinup posters were
the two aluminum outfits carefully crafted and discreetly funded by the
2011 defense allocation. Canada was rather impressed with his brother’s
impassioned plea to his new boss not to cut off what had traditionally
been delegated as “America’s sweet ass toy fund.” They weren’t the 18
foot titanium replicas but they were a sight better than resin or
cardboard. Of course they weren’t quite what Canada had in mind since
seeing the new movie with America and the new character designs, but as
the other turned that fanatical gaze on him to the question, he took a
step back and realized he should’ve once again kept his mouth shut.

“Matthew Williams, you shut your filthy whore mouth,” America snapped
as he fastened another rivet and Canada wondered if all this insanity
was really worth it just to get through one convention unmolested. And
as America started off on rant number fifty seven on why Michael Bay
was a money honey canon raping child murdering- Canada had no idea
where that one had come from- asshole and “for the love of Primus,
Bumblebee is a VW Bug”, he had a flashback once again to America
dragging them both into the fucking bathroom at the Marriot whispering
that he wasn’t quite feeling well and perhaps Bones would be so kind as
to give his Captain an injection to be sure? And goddammit Canada was
usually so much better at refusing his brother’s ill timed sexual
advances but shit there was just something about America turned Captain
Kirk propositioning him with those baby blue eyes that made him throw
any sense of good judgment out the window and go down on him right
against the sink. Okay... they definitely both needed costumes that
weren’t so fucking arousing.

And as America kept ranting about “lack of source material my ass, the
IDW comic has like All Hail Megatron, the kick ass spotlight stories,
fucking Hearts of Steel…”Canada examined both costumes in detail really
pretty damn impressed by just how precise they were. Not that he was
any judge of a good Transformer’s costume according to his brother but
he could still appreciate the air intakes on the Starscream costume and
the perfectly scaled wings. And then of course there was America’s own
Megatron design which rather begged the question...

“So Al,” he interrupted America’s diatribe on “Shattered Glass” not a
moment too soon. “I’m still kinda surprised you wanted to be Megatron.
I mean isn’t Optimus Prime the hero?”

His brother blinked as he redirected his focus, polishing the chassis til it gleamed.

“Are you kidding me? I mean yeah I’m totally the hero but come
on. Megatron is like seriously badass.” A gleam in his eye, he stepped
back around behind the Megatron costume looking over the shoulder.
“C’mon, say it.” Canada sighed, wondering not for the first time if the
fusion cannon on that thing actually functioned- America already swore
up and down the lasers weren’t lethal and how much of a killjoy his new
boss was- but he just gave a small smile reciting the old dialogue from
a movie he really couldn’t care less about if America didn’t like it so
damn much.

“One shall stand, one shall fall.”

“Why throw away your life so recklessly?” America fired back with an
animated wave of his hand even behind the massive aluminum pieces.

“That’s a question you should ask yourself, Megatron.” And Canada
braced himself, taking a few steps back until he was safely in front of
the couch when America exclaimed rather exuberantly,“No, I’ll crush you
with my bare hands,” and dove at him.



Of course Canada was laboring under the ridiculous delusion that once they were actually in the rather intricate costumes America would have little interest in playing grab ass. Oh Matthew you stupid stupid idiot. Yeah,
that lasted all of thirty seconds when Canada had come out of the hotel
bathroom feeling ridiculous in the gunmetal gray face paint and the red
contacts. That stupid helmet was hot as hell too and he was only
thankful that America had made a small concession about the codpiece
thingamajig because there was no way he was gonna hold his bladder all
day and not be able to sit because of the boxy design. Then again maybe
it would’ve been a better idea to leave it ‘cause when he turned around
to show America the “wings” he could just feel those eyes on his ass and heard the “Hot damn Starscream sure has some fucking junk in the trunk.”

And all of that really should’ve been a warning that going out in
public wasn’t going to be any better but oh America shot him that big
wide eyed puppy dog look and swore on his Age of Apocalypse comics that
he’d be totally one hundred percent good this year no matter what. Yeah, good my ass, if his eyes could actually undress me... He
tried to ignore it, following America’s impressive weave through the
crown in search of the elusive G1 Fortress Maximus in mint condition.
It kinda made Canada wonder just how much money he’d stol- procured for
convention purposes but he was sure he’d be happier not knowing.

“Holy shit that is the most awesome Starscream and Megatron I’ve
ever seen!” Yeah, there’d been plenty of that ever since they stepped
out of their room. If it wasn’t America oggling his goodies it was a
fangirl wanting to see them do god only knows what or some fanboy
wanking over the accuracy of the thrusters and the null ray and god not
for the last time he wished he’d just sucked it up and picked Gallifrey
One because at least he understood half of what they were talking
about. It wasn’t like he could look at the Beast Wars figures without
America flipping his shit or heaven forbid Transformers Animated which
if he recalled correctly America had declared an abomination unto the
eyes of Primus. Well at least one of them was enjoying himself. America
was soaking up all the attention like a damn sponge.

“Oh yeah, you should totally check out the fusion cannon. Knock on my
chest, it’s all metal.” America was currently chatting up some large
chested woman with a mohawk and Canada was actually thankful for the
ridiculous costume for once because it let him give that automatic
jealous little glare that America loved to tease him about without it
being terribly obvious. Really, it just made him look more in character
if anything else.

“Oh wow is that titanium?” Canada resisted the urge to drum his fingers
impatiently because last he checked there was a panel that America was
dragging him to, one that he insisted they not be late for. But no, heaven forbid some woman with a big rack wanted to flirt with him...

“Al...”

“S’all aluminum, baby,” America informed her with a flirtatious grin that really didn’t belong on Megatron’s face.

“Al,” Canada insisted again louder tapping his metal foot- “Pede,”
America would say- rather insistently on the floor and at least his
brother’s latest would be conquest had the decency to look over and
suggest he answer but oh no, not the United States of fucking America.

“Oh hey, don’t worry about him, he can wait.” I can wait, can I? I
can wait while you get her stupid phone number and then spend the rest
of the day bragging about how you’re gonna score tonight. I swear ever
since you promised you’d behave yourself and not turn into a damn
octopus you’ve been acting like a total asshole. Did you forget we’re
supposed to be exclusive now? No more humans? Ugh I don’t know why I
even put up with your... wait... Who said he had to just stand
there quiet like a church mouse and just take it? Hell, he never agreed
to make it easy on his brother either. You’re gonna act like a total douchebag, Al? Well two can play at that game.

This thing has a voice synthesizer, right? He looked down at the aluminum casing his forearm and turned his wrist up to the small access panel America had built in. Yup, bingo, right there.
He might not be the G1 fanatic that America was but his memory was
quite a bit better than the average human and he could recall well
enough the character.

“Perhaps if you spent less time socializing with human females, mighty
Megatron and more time plotting strategy we’d have already vanquished
the Autobots and gotten the slag off this dirtball of a planet.” His
voice sounded pretty damn scratchy and tinny but holy maple if the
woman he was talking to didn’t turn to him with wide excited eyes and
squeal. Canada didn’t get the appeal himself but wow, America sure
seemed to. Heh, he didn’t even have to hide the smirk on his face when
America whirled and just stared at him.



Whoa dude, shit just got real, yo. America blinked at the self
satisfied grin on Canada’s face as he processed just what his brother
had said. And hot damn but he really did sound like Starscream. Fuck
Canada was sexy when he was being all in character and America smiled
back at him for just a moment before rotating his arm and activating
the voice synthesizer on his own costume.

“As always Starscream you talk big,” he stepped forward and that poor
woman looked about to pass out when he held Canada’s chin, careful not
to smudge the paint and whispered in that heavy robotic voice, “When
everything about you is small.” And he saw the stunned expression on
Canada’s face and just fucking smirked and turned around. Canada wanted
to play, well America would let him stomp with the big dogs and see
just how well he could keep up. His brother always was too slow. And
Canada watched as America bid the woman a good day and headed to the
panel a few minutes late watching after

If Canada recalled correctly the line America had thrown out at him was
from one of the new IDW comics. He had no idea how on earth he knew
that, he’d always been a bigger fan of Frank Miller and Tarot: Witch of
the Black Rose- for the story, not for the big tits and hairless slits
as America had so crudely put it. And as he sat through some seemingly
unending Q&A session with someone he was sure he’d never heard of
before in his life he couldn’t help but watch his brother leaning
forward in his seat like an eager puppy, far more enthusiastic than
Megatron really ought to be. He checked his wa- his internal
chronometer and realized it should be letting out soon and they could
get some food. He just prayed that America had the good sense to opt
for something edible and not try to kill them with that brew he’d
magicked up in the kitchen before they left that he was calling
“energon.”

Sure it was pretty impressive glowing in that cube he’d fashioned but
there was something about a drink that glowed in the dark that Canada
just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He sighed, trying his
damndest not to look bored or heaven forbid ask America a question
because getting shushed like a little kid was more than even his non
existent ego could take. So he just sat back, closed his eyes, and
imagined the fun he could’ve been having if he’d just sucked it up and
agreed to be Seven of Nine except there was no way in hell he ever
would’ve made it to the main conference rooms unscathed and that was
discounting all the godawful puns he’d have to endure and he swore
America spent the entire year dreaming up lame and ridiculous pickup
lines. And America poked him in the side and hissed “Dude, pay
attention,” and really, he wondered if his brother was just naturally
this obnoxious or if he stood in front of a mirror practicing. But hey,
why mope about it when he was in a perfect position to make America
squirm?

“As you command, mighty Megatron,” he answered with a small shrug
turning the synthesizer back on and oh, was that a ripple he saw run
through America’s body sitting next to him? Yup, definitely saw
something. Canada ducked his head to hide the smirk but he did in fact
attempt to pay a little more attention to Peter Cullen talking. Well,
just enough to torture his brother.

“Pathetic,” he sneered in a near flawless Starscream impersonation,
“That beneath all the pomp and ceremony the great Optimus Prime is
nothing but a pithy flesh creature.” Yeah, America definitely swallowed
hard and his gloved hands were balled into tight fists on his legs.
Canada continued to look innocently ahead as the voice actor fielded
some crazy fan girl question about Starscream and Megatron and Canada
couldn’t have asked for a better opening even as the man up front
looked half confused and half uncomfortable.

“Mattie?” America whispered in a voice that was definitely more
strained than it had been a moment ago. “Shuttup.” Yeah that was
definitely an octave higher and he almost laughed when he saw America
try and hide his midsection and he was really tempted to make a comment
about his “fusion cannon” but even he wasn’t that cruel.

“I would take care of that for you, oh great Decepticon leader of mine, but you did
promise to save that for the hotel room so...” he trailed off looking
ahead deliberately avoiding eye contact and he heard America groan and
swear under his breath because he’d sooner gnaw off an arm than break a
promise and all too soon there was applause and the audience was
standing up Canada already a step ahead of them making sure to walk
with an extra little bit of sway- and why not, Starscream had always
struck him as being rather coquettish anyway- and found that the
remainder of the day was starting to look up.

Of course Canada hadn’t exactly counted on America skipping lunch in
favor of performing some impromptu skit wherein Starscream naturally
got his ass handed to him in yet another failed coup. And oh how he
would’ve loved to turn the lasers on for real when America just beamed
that thousand watt “I gotcha” grin as he gleefully informed them that
they wouldn’t want to disappoint the fans now would they? Yeah, that
was all well and god until Canada went flying ass over head and ended
up looking up from the floor as everyone applauded “Megatron’s” amazing
fighting prowess. And he didn’t miss that wink either which made him
double determined to get America back

Ahh but he didn’t have to wait long; Canada tried unsuccessfully to
hide another smirk behind a blue gloved hand as America remained rooted
behind the table hunched over. Canada hadn’t realized America had taken
this madness far enough to pack a bag full of “energon goodies” or what
turned out to be pretty tasty hard candy of the jolly rancher kind but
oh had he ever taken advantage of the opportunity to push the sweet red
candy past his lips rather enthusiastically for the last fifteen
minutes whenever America was looking his way.

“So tell me again, Mighty Megatron,” he teased rather wickedly as they
stopped behind another table, “how hiding behind a stack of flesh
creature literature is going-“

“Jesus Christ, Mattie would you stop it already you’re killing me,”
America snapped at him wishing that he’s just said fuck it and gone
with the full aluminum instead of leaving such “delicate” areas to
brightly colored tights and briefs.

Canada had also learned pretty quickly that unsurprisingly America got
hard faster than dollar store play doh whenever he used those
ridiculous forms of address.

“Of course. Forgive me Lord Megat-“ he squeaked when America clamped a
warning hand over his mouth holding up Cyclonus’ Spotlight in front of
his groin with the other hand. Yeah, really subtle, Al.

“You’re a total jerk, Mattie. Here I am being so good it hurts- and
fuck you asshole it does hurt- and you’re totally milking this for all
it’s worth. I swear I am gonna get you so good you’ll-“ He almost went
cross eyed at the null ray pointed between his eyes. “Uhh… you know
that’s real, right bro?” America asked looking somewhat nervous.

Actually he hadn’t realized they were real because he hadn’t
thought even America was that stupid to go beyond the lasers to the
real weapons. He also thought the United States Military was more
responsible than that but apparently the guys in R&D just couldn’t
resist those big puppy eyes and that grin. Okay more like they couldn’t
resist any chance to fuck around with highly dangerous weaponry but
still... Really it would serve his brother right to get his face frozen
like that but Canada wasn’t that mean. Of course America didn’t need to
know that. America was slowly removing his hand and Canada was once
again employing his most impressive Starscream-esque smirk as he kept
the weapon raised.

“Not so tough now, are you, mighty Megatron?” Canada practically purred
in that synthesized voice as America backed up, one hand raising the
fusion cannon, the other still holding the comic. Canada almost felt
bad for him when he heard someone exclaim “Holy shit a real battle” and
“Is Megatron hard?”

And America was never more thankful for the thick face paint because he
was pretty sure he was blushing bright red underneath it. He was also
thankful that nations couldn’t die of embarrassment either because he
was like one more audience observation away from just willing himself
to stop existing on the spot. But hey grace under fire was like one of
his special powers and shit and if he could stand right next to Dubya
floundering to remember the old “fool me once” quote with a straight
serious face he could go toe to toe with Canada on the stage they set
up amongst the collectibles and comics. Alright fuck it, you wanna play you little twerp it’s go time daddio.
America flicked his own synthesizer on and yeah he kinda ripped the
line off Galvatron but they could suck it. And yeah there was a gasp
when he tossed the magazine down and some spindly little dude bitching
about a crease but he’d pay for it later.

“You defeat me? This is bad comedy Starscream.”

He felt that odd crazy loud thump when Canada looked at him with that
challenging defiance like that time with the light sabers when he was
so fucking hard he almost lost his dick to that shit and oh man he
didn’t know how the hell he was gonna keep from pouncing him right in
the middle of this. And of course his brother just had to up the
stakes, speaking in Their language to him so the humans couldn’t
understand- which only made half the gathered crown swoon and swear
they were speaking Cybertronian- and rapped out a challenge.

“Oh really, Al? You know I would’ve won that last fight if you hadn’t cheated and whipped out that phaser…”

“Hey it was on stun, wussball,” America answered without missing a beat as the two of them circled each other.

“So why don’t we make it interesting oh great United States of I’m a
big fat cheater? AndIlostanarmyouassholesodon’tcallmenames....”

“Keep talking...” His grin was big and bright and kinda nasty with the
paint and the silver helm and he wondered just how much damage this
thing was gonna do when he finally fired it off but hey he had a good
six hours of sexual frustration going on so he deserved it.

“How about this? I kick your obnoxious burger eating ass and you have to be good the rest of the trip no matter what
I do...” And America just bit back a groan because lose to Canada? Ha!
This was weapons and guns and ass kicking, not a fucking lumberjack
maple syrup eating contest. “But if you win then I guess you get your
way... likeyoualwaysdojerk.”

“Right here right now,” America rapped out as the crowd grew and he
practically bounced with excitement. “When I kick your ass baby, you’re
gonna turn right around and bend over that table and we’ll give the
audience here a real show.”

Canada didn’t miss a beat as he opened the activation panel and enabled
the lasers. At least America made it pretty obvious how it worked. He
flicked the switch and hid his surprise pretty well when the violent
strafe shot out from the small gun attached to his arm and hit the
wall. Holy crap he better be careful not to hit anyone- America’s
definition of not lethal apparently meant not lethal to fucking titans.
He’d been expecting more of a special effects type round of fire but
that thing was like a carefully focused killer red beam of flashlight.
America too looked like he wasn’t really expecting him to shoot right
before he dove the hell out of the way but hey, if Canada was gonna
fucking bring it then America wasn’t about to back away. And the people
well… hell they’d move. America smirked, standing back up before
hauling off and firing a crazy loud blast of his own, laughing pretty
fucking maniacally as Canada swore and jumped. Of course the plasma
smoked everything in its path but all was fair in love and getting laid
and America just dodge a round of return fire ignoring the curtains
that were pretty expertly singed behind him.

America could definitely hear the screams and the scrambles of the
pussies who were nowhere near as hardcore as the real Transformers
fans. That chick with the mohawk he was talking with earlier was like
right there with them taking pictures, cheering them both on, and
America was seriously wishing that his boss hadn’t cheaped out and
pulled the plug on R&D ‘cause they were so close to getting that
transformation cog down it would’ve been sweet. Then he could’ve been
all comic book reborn Megatron and turned into the tank but then again
Starscream was a flyer and Canada got airsick on a fucking ladder so
yeah probably best they stay on the ground. And speaking of Canada, he
thought his brother was yelling something in Their language about “This
is for the time you stuffed me in that trashcan and said I was a Dalek”
and holy crap Canada could sure hold a grudge.

“Hey it wasn’t nearly as bad as the time you spray painted my Chevelle and wrote USS Enterprick D on it!”

America was pretty impressed not only with Canada’s aim but with how
well the aluminum was holding up with all the diving and rolling out of
the damn way. And as he “accidentally” incinerated a whole table full
of movie figures he prayed his boss wasn’t gonna take this out of next
year’s fund. He fired a huge blast back at Canada, taking out a good
chunk of wall, laughing at the slagpile that was left.

“Hey Mattie, you remember all the smack you were talking about Mega
Shark versus Giant Octopus on Syfy? Well who’s laughing now?!” Canada
paused long enough to barely avoid getting hit with another round of
fire and America laughed loudly calling out in English. “This is why
you’ll never succeed, Starscream!” He exclaimed louder for the awesome
fans who were still there egging them on and placing bets and come to
think of it America probably should hurry up and . “Because you’re
nothing but a weakling with big words and a little weapon!” And oh did Canada’s eyes flash dangerously at that one.

“Yes, but I’m fast!” And holy crap America gave him shit about being
slow but super pissed Canada was like Super Saiyan Canada or like those
killer angel gargoyle assassin statue things in that one episode of
Doctor Who ‘cause one second he was popping out from a rack of universe
figures and the next he was almost shooting America between the eyes
with that damn null ray. And he was shooting again and America
definitely heard him yelling about tentacles rape and jeez get a little
liquor in Japan and apparently all the crazy shit after that was
somehow his fault and- Ow dammit, who the hell put a chair there?!
And as America looked up from where he’s fallen, he could see Canada’s
stupid Canada smirk looking down with that laser aimed at his chest and
oh fuck that was gonna hurt something fierce.

“Oh how it pains me do to this...” Well fuck if he wasn’t about to get
a hole blasted in his chest he’d have creamed himself right then and
there. Except there was also the fact that he could see a bunch of
suits and sunglasses and he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be
happy or sad that the Secret Service was always like a hop and a skip
away from him.

And as he saw Canada speared to the fucking ground from the side he
looked up at the large man staring down at him with his arms crossed
like a disappointed father.

“Uh... hi Bert,” America said mustering a sheepish grin as he went to
sit up. And there went the gun pointed at him and he just sighed and
held his hands up. “Aww c’mon Bert can’t we just...” he trailed off as
he heard a string of quebecquois swearing and saw the handcuffs land in
his lap from some brush cut muscle head whose name he could never
remember that he’d secretly named “Guile”. Well fuck if they were
busting out the handcuffs and giving him the silent treatment they must
really be pissed. He just hoped that Biden wasn’t gonna be as big of a
douche nozzle as Cheney and make him spend a week in lock up ‘cause
surely they wouldn’t actually bother his boss about all this, right?

___

“I can’t believe they threw me in here. Me. Dude, how the hell
do you throw the United States of fucking America in the slammer for
terrorism? That’s like fucking treason or something. Next meeting of
Congress I am so proposing they make an amendment ‘cause-”

“Oh shuttup, Al,” Canada grumbled from the seat next to him in the
sterile interrogation room. He was sitting in the big plastic chair
with his knees drawn up to his chest- no mean feat considering that he
was almost six foot just like America- wearing the plain orange shirt
and pants feet bare. He’d kicked off his shoes and America guessed he
figured comfort was key right now because really, it’s not like they
could do anything to them. “This is all your stupid fault. I’m never agreeing to this ever again you grabby pervert.”

“Hey I’d rather be a pervert than a passive aggressive prude,” America
fired back sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms. He had no
idea how long they were gonna make them stew in here. Were they really
gonna interrogate them? God this was so embarrassing!

“I am not a prude!” Canada sat up glaring at him. “Just because you get hot from the fucking Sharper Image catalog-”

“Hey that chick demonstrating that massage chair had it going on... And you haven’t even told your boss about us!”

“I can’t tell him that!” Was America crazy? Oh hey Stephen I just
wanted to let you know that my brother and I are seeing each other. No
it’s not really one of those “nation things” it’s kinda more like an
incestuous gay sex thing... Yeah he could see that going over like
a ton of bricks. Just because America had the bad taste to just tell
his bosses whenever he thought it was “on topic”- how blurting that out
during the last White House Correspondence dinner was “on topic” was
beyond him- didn’t mean that he had to exercise the same appalling lack
of tact. And really it wasn’t anyone’s business who he was
sleeping with. His personal life was just that. Personal. Of course
America and Mr Newspaper had some sort of freakish bromance thing going
on that Canada would never understand because he saw his brother on the
cover of US Weekly about as often as Tom Cruise.

“Ha, see! Prude.” America nodded as if that were the final word on the
matter and if he wasn’t worried about adding assault to the long list
of charges Canada would’ve hit him. Of course with America adding UFC
to his constantly expanding list of things he was absolutely over the
moon for Canada didn’t trust him not go all Cro Cop on him in the name
of “a little fun”. Still there was only so much he was gonna let slide
even a door mat only took so much abuse before it slid out from under
your feet and made you fall on your ass down a flight of stairs in
front of England’s brownstone... okay getting off subject there Matthew.

“I’m a prude? You don’t even show nudity on cable television!”

“Hey I don’t have any control over that!”

“You wouldn’t want them showing it even if you did!”

“That’s what HBO is for!”

“Now who’s the prude?!” America was standing up now and Canada joined
him mustering the best glare that he could. “You’re so repressed, Al,
that a stupid Starscream costume gives you a boner!”

“Hey!” America slammed a hand on the white table next to him jamming a
finger in Canada’s  face. “That had nothing to do with me being
repressed and everything to do with-” He didn’t quite clamp a hand over
his mouth like a little kid but he was damn close because he really
didn’t want to just blurt out like a stupid girl that it was all stupid
Canada’s fault that he just looked that sexy in whatever he was
wearing. Like say a prison orange half jumpsuit... “Y’know Mattie...
you’re pretty sexy when you’re all pissed off,” America said with a
waggle of his eyebrows and the expression that Canada shot him in
return was this funny almost blank look like he was so stunned he
didn’t even know how to react. It was seriously awesome and America was
so gonna be taking advantage of that one because it wasn’t often that
his brother was at an actual loss for words.

He cleared his throat and in his best Megatron impersonation, said

“Why? That's what they all asked me.” He leaned in just a little bit.
“Why him... why Starscream? Why, of all the Decepticons, did I decide
to revitalize the one whose record of deceit and betrayal is legend?..”
And America leaned in even further and gave Canada a good hearty smack
on the ass and whispered in his ear in a low whisper, “Because he has a
sweet ass, that’s why.” America paused just long enough to see if he
was gonna get a knee to the groin or if Canada was gonna rise to the
bait and he heard the slightly husky voice as Canada answered him with
a “Al we can’t.. not here we can’t... we can’t do that... fuck.” He
finished with a resignation that was just as good as an enthusiastic
punch in the air and oh yeah, it was go time like show time!

“C’mon Mattie, let’s pretend you’re like the borg and fucking
assimilate me.” America shivered as Canada definitely rose to the
occasion and cupped his face, kissing him lightly letting those
slightly dry lips brush his.

“Maybe,” Canada kissed him again- definitely wetter and longer. “I
should make...” kiss. “…like a Dalek...” lick. “…and exterminate your
stupid ass.” He nipped America’s lower lip and drew it out a little
harder than he really need to and America couldn’t stop that hitch of
breath and that familiar torturous tightening of his groin as his cock
stirred a hell of a lot more furiously to life.

“Ex-sperminate?” America murmured against his mouth teasing him and he could just feel
Canada rolling his eyes and get ready to make some sarcastic comeback
but America just brought his hands down and gave his twin’s ass a good
hearty squeeze- hard enough to almost lift him off the floor- and
Canada just let his arms slide around America’s neck and moaned leaning
into him.

Because as much as his brother liked to act all responsible and mature
when they came right down to it Canada was just as willing to get down
and dirty wherever whenever with the right persuasion. And he felt that
stillness as Canada was flush against him and just realizing how
fucking hard America was as he looked through the slightly fogged
lenses of Quebec and answered in a sing song little trill,

“You’ll have to do better than that.” And America just grinned and
squeezed that tight ass again because Canada never played like that if
he didn’t really want to do it

“I love you, Mattie,” America said in the voice he usually reserved for
some major fuck up like that other massive oil spill and he felt his
brother shiver and he could hear Canada’s breaths in his ear getting
hotter and heavier as he whispered in such a sexy needy voice,

“Say it again, Al.” Oh yeah, America definitely knew the right buttons
to push and it always kinda amazed him that just as Canada never seemed
to get tired of hearing it he never got tired of saying it. And feeling
his twin’s warm breaths as he squirmed and kneaded at America’s back,
he’d never been more thankful to have such a wicked ace up his sleeve.

“I love you Mattie,” America murmured against the warm skin of Canada’s
neck and Christ Canada was practically wrapped around him as their lips
crashed together all crazy hot and wild and it was all America could do
to keep from just squeezing him ‘til the breath left him entirely.

But America never seemed to realize though that as intimidating as
Canada found his insane strength on most occasions outside the bedroom,
when it came to sex there was just something about his brother lifting
him clear up without even trying. There was something about that fight
for dominance that turned him on something fierce and as annoyed as
he’d been the one year they’d gone to Comic-Con as Tron and Flynn, he
couldn’t deny how amazing it was when America had nailed him against
the wall of the hotel room hard enough to collapse through to the other
side. Of course management wasn’t exactly thrilled and good god did the
paparazzi ever have a field day with that one but just remembering that
gave him that surge of heat through his body, made his fingers tangle
painfully in his brother’s hair as they kissed until he heard that
throaty growl and felt himself being lifted off the floor like a
fucking doll and practically thrown onto the steel table that was
thankfully bolted down.

Canada caught himself on the cold surface and looked up half sitting
back on his elbows, legs dangling over the side as he watched America
unable to help a brief sideways flicker to the two way mirror that just
had to have people standing behind it. He licked his lips and
had to admit to himself- he’d die before ever letting America know-
that the thought of being watched as America went down on him or slid
down all naked and hard on his cock was a pretty hot mental picture
right now. Actually when he looked in the mirror he could see America
pushing his shirt up from another angle just as he felt those slightly
chilly hands on his stomach and felt the goosebumps even as he
complained about how cold America’s hands were and his brother
responded right on cue with his usual brilliant observation of how warm
Canada was in turn. And Canada gasped and found himself watching the
far too bright fluorescent lights above hearing the buzzing that seemed
so loud and America’s erratic heavy breathing against his skin as his
brother pushed the shirt up more, his warm soft mouth more than making
up for his cold hands.

“Mmm, I should suck you off right here, baby,” America said
breathlessly as one hand dug into Canada’s hip and the other was
seemingly deicing itself against Canada’s ribcage- cold and tickling
and somehow making his nerves criss cross and tell his dick to get even
harder. And god did those words ever give him one hell of a pause and
the thought of watching his brother in thar mirror, head buried between
his legs, the stupid suits in the other room able to see everything was
just too damn tempting to resist.

“And miss all those... totally lame one liners?” America blew him a
raspberry and Canada laughed softly even as his glasses spotted up with
spit.

“Ha, lame my ass, you wish you could be this cool.” And of course the
jerk just had to stave off his answer by deciding it would be the
perfect time to test the elasticity of his left nipple. Canada’s arms
trembled and he whined softly biting his lip almost falling backwards
as he shut his eyes and drowned in the happy little hum of his
brother’s purring voice and the painful little pinpricks as America
twisted and pinched and he felt that other hand kneading and pushing at
his right pec and he was glad he wasn’t trying to stand because his
legs sure as hell would’ve been shaking.

America liked to complain he never made enough noise and Canada swore
he was bound and determined to make him scream loud and high enough to
shatter glass sometimes. But ohh it was such a fun little game and
America tugged and fastened his mouth to Canada’s neck and Canada just
knew his brother was gonna suck it like a damn vampire until it was
bright red and hypersensitive and he let a soft whimper escape and
could feel the sweat pooling under his palms and he just kept looking
up at those humming lights as America’s knees bumped his and those
teeth scraped and he could smell the cherry candy of America’s breath
and could feel his hips pushing up seemingly of their own volition as
America continued to try and tattoo his fucking neck with his mouth and
he felt that funny vertigo from tipping his head back and felt America
squirm against him like he was trying to hump his damn knees and Canada
just wanted to open up and lay back and beg him to hurry the hell up!

Oh yeah, baby, I know you wanna moan louder than that. America
knew exactly how to make Canada scream although it was kind of a dick
move but hey, he was the United States of fucking America, he wrote the
book on dick moves. And really his brother was kinda asking for it
because he was just so pliant and sexy let America push that shirt the
rest of the way up and off and America pulled back just enough to snap
a mental photograph of Canada leaning back looking up at him all
mussed, a few traces of the face paint dotting his hair line, wavy
strands all sticky and messy from being under the helmet all day-
Christ he looked all freshly fucked and America so wanted to paint him
even dirtier- and America grinned that “watch out” look and watched the
cute little hint of wariness appear on Canada’s face before he fucking
pounced. And oh did Canada ever scream when his naked back hit the
freezing cold table and he punched at America’s shoulders with a pretty
damn creative series of curses- a few even in Klingon- to which America
just laughed and teased that he was just too slow and kissed him hard
again letting Canada just pour every last ounce of pissed into the
rough meeting of mouths.

And pour he did; Canada was definitely pissed. His entire body felt
like one big goosebump and the steel table top was like ice and if his
stupid heavy brother wasn’t keeping him pinned down he’d have thrown
himself off the second his back touched it but nope, Ameri-douche had
practically stolen the breath from him by the cold and by his weight
and then sealed their mouths together. And of course when his twin was
all hot and ready to go nothing short of being hit by a MAC truck would
deter him and Canada gave one last annoyed punch and just settled for
scratching the ever loving fuck out of America’s back through the thin
orange shirt as he opened his mouth and kissed him back frantically.

He knew distantly, somewhere in some rational part of his mind they
were a total damn mess, their teeth were banging and felling his
glasses knocked half askew- hearing Texas hit the floor somewhere in
all that- trying his damndest to taste the roof of his fucking mouth
while America went sideways and tilted his head like he was giving him
mouth to mouth and sucked and bit and dammit he wanted it so bad he he
could draw his brother into every part of him he would because right
now he was barely remembered to breathe, only remember when America
would pull back long enough for some gulp of afterthought air before
diving back in trying to cram his tongue halfway down Canada’s throat
like there was a fucking pearl at the back or something. And he heard
America growl and then realized belatedly the noise was coming from his
own throat as well as he realized his brother was laid out on top of
him grinding their hips together roughly like he was gonna sink through
the table if his brother didn’t anchor him down.

And right now Canada observed belatedly that America didn’t just smell
of candy but taste like it too which clearly meant his brother had
snuck a whole bunch inside without sharing: the dick. Of course that
thought didn’t linger for long because ten hours of mutual sexual
frustration had him ripping at the shirt America still had on before
his brother broke the kiss long enough to take the damn thing off and
Canada could feel the warm hard chest pressed flushed to his own again
as America nipped at his kiss swollen mouth with something that sounded
like “Fuck… fuck you’re gonna make me come…” and Canada didn’t think
that he was doing anything all that exciting though the raised welts on
his brother’s back spoke otherwise.

Well that was fine by him because he needed release and already felt
about to explode his cock felt so full and heavy it was gonna be like
the fucking Poseidon Adventure when he finally came- and wow he
couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten off like this- but he
was hardly complaining because America rutting against him was almost
as good as sex without all the wait and Canada buried his face in
America’s neck determined to outdo the hickey on his own neck with
teeth and nails and oh god oh god America always felt so fucking big
and hard against him he wished he could just wiggle out of the stupid
pants and feel the naked slick cock skin to skin and he just took
another deep breath and  and smelled the lingering traces of paint
and sweat and licked and bit at the salty wetness beaded on his skin.

And as America ground against him hard enough for the table surface to
become painful on his shoulder blades, Canada squirmed and hiked a leg
up wanting to force them closer, wanting to feel even more of his
brother’s hard erection rub his own through those stupid orange pants
and the friction of the scratchy fabric was almost painful but right
now it was fucking perfect and Canada panted and moaned and gasped out
rather brilliantly, “C’mon Al… I want the big gun.” Which in hindsight
didn’t make a whole lot of sense but it seemed absolutely perfect at
the time and it seemed to mean something to America too who grabbed at
his legs and somehow maneuvered the pants down enough that he could
feel the cool air hit his cock and in an almost perfect mirror he moved
his hands and helped America slip out of his own criminal fashion
statement except of course he had the good sense not to just
rip the stupid things clean off when they wouldn’t come so easily but
hell he’d worry about being completely naked later.

Because right now America was grabbing blindly at his legs, shoving
them apart and he had this crazy moment of panic driven lust where he
wondered if America wasn’t just going to slam it the hell on home with
just the sticky clear fluid coating his cock as lube as he pulled back
those brilliant lust hazy blue eyes never leaving his own violet ones,
But no, America just winked as if to say “had you going there”, grabbed
his hips, cock to cock and rocked their bodies together fast and hard
in one of the most torried simulated sex acts that Canada ever had the
privilege to partake in. And if America was trying to make him cry out
in earnest well mission fucking accomplished because he was definitely
screaming his twin’s name as he held on for the ride, his hands
grabbing and groping at America’s shoulders mostly hitting the air
before settling on America’s waist and America snapped his hips and
rutted like a damn Vulcan in pon farr and Canada could feel the wetness
pooling between them, feel the loose foreskin being pushed back from
the head of his cock and knew he wasn’t gonna be good for much longer.

America could feel his brother’s legs tighten around his waist, feel
those strong thighs quivering and tensing and fuck he wish he’d thought
far enough ahead to prepare something else but Christ he had Canada on
a damn table in some interrogation room in the pentagon with the damn
cameras and the fucking fun police behind the mirror so really he was
gonna take what he cold get before his fucking dick fell off. And
Canada was taking it so beautifully, one hand clutching at the smooth
surface of the table and the other finally getting a damn clue and
dropping between the both of them in some uncoordinatedly awesome
palming that just made America thrust even harder feeling Canada’s
attempting to fist them both and get even more friction in that wet
sticky mess and he looked so sexy as he gasped for breath like he just
couldn’t get enough air and he swallowed and half sobbed and America
could feel those short blunt nails as they’d left the table, dragging
down his bicep and he groaned and felt his balls draw up tight and hot
and-

“OhgodohgodMattieMattie...” And he went still then right as Canada
finally found a goddamn good grip and jerked the both of them for like
half a fucking second before America one a hand from one of Canada’s
hips to rest over Canada’s holding their dicks almost flush against
Canada’s stomach, as he came, came a fucking jet stream it seemed like
over Canada’s chest and didn’t miss a beat in helping in twin in some
crazy sweet nation mind sex meld, both hands working up and down the
shaft of Canada’s cock so fucking wet with come and precome that
America thought if he crawled right up Canada’s body and sat back it’d
slide the fuck in right to the hilt without a hitch. But oh Canada’s
eyes were half shut and as America jerked in time with his brother like
an endless fucking masturbation tunnel he felt the twitch and throb and
felt the warm semen spilling through his fingers that he didn’t even
waste a second in bringing to his mouth and lapping up, the faint
chlorinated scent some weird kinda turn on but hell who was he to
question it.

And as he watched the rise and fall of Canada’s chest all naked and
vulnerable and looking like he was one step from passing out as he lay
flat on the table panting, he just couldn’t help but give in to the
urge to heft his brother’s entire lower half off the table, sling those
longer legs over his shoulders and lap at Canada’s softening cock. He
heard the hiss- that omyfuckinggod overload hiss- but Canada tasted so
good and his poor brother was just so spent that he only had the energy
to turn his head to the side and whimper against the table looking so
beautifully vulnerable. And America licked and sucked and he could see
Canada’s eyes half open and hear the moans growing louder as his broad
tongue swiped at the soft shaft ‘cause somehow even if his brother
couldn’t quite get hard again the mind was more than willing. America
shifted as he knelt, his own cock starting to stir and god he didn’t
care if it ended up hurting he was just gonna go for it. And he felt
the shaft start to firm as he worked and took the half soft length into
his mouth ‘cause he was considerate enough to make sure everything was
clean as a whistle y’know, and ohh he was dreaming of the marathon fuck
session they were about to have right on the table when he heard the
click and watched the door fly open and come eyeball to fucking eyeball
with none other than his and Canada’s bosses standing in the fucking
doorway.

And Canada noticed it too at almost the same moment as he tipped his
head back, seeing the lot of them upside down his face turning bright
red, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot hoping that America
would fucking say something because right now his brain was mush and
his stupid brother didn’t even have the good sense to let the cock slip
out of his mouth and yeah he was planning on telling his boss someday
that he and his brother were involved but fuck it sure didn’t involve a
quickie while they were waiting to be grilled about anti American
activities and WMDS or god only knows what Homeland Security had come
up with. And he was so gonna blame America later for the fact that he
swallowed and squeaked and blurted out the first stupid thing that came
into his head because dammit he somehow just had Transformers still on
the brain!

“It... It was the triplechangers! They tricked me!” And god would that
that had been the end of it... except America’s boss... the president
of the United States of America just raised an eyebrow without missing
a beat and answered back.

“You’re either lying or stupid.”

“...I’m stupid,” was the last thing that Canada remembered saying before passing out.