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Canada paused, key still in the lock and door half open. There was music drifting down the hall out of the kitchen, which wasn't unusual. It meant America was home, and doing something-or-other in the kitchen. Hopefully washing dishes, or possibly baking, anything but actual cooking. He was usually pretty decent at baking, at least.
Usually the music varied between bluegrass and whatever was on the Top 40 at the time, depending on America's mood. But the song drifting to Canada in the front hall had a strong beat to it, and was very familiar to the northern Nation. America's voice drifted along with the music, a little deep and surprisingly melodic.
"-Even if in winter things tend to freeze, we have the world monopoly on trees, and our country's bordered by three different seas!"
Canada slowly began to smile. It wasn't his usual gentle, warm smile. This smile was much sharper, like a wolf or a polar bear stalking prey. He closed the door softly behind him, making sure it didn't make enough noise to alert America, and crept down the hall.
America, oblivious, kept singing. "-We invented the zipper, we got expertise! We made insulin to combat disease-"
Canada peeped around the door frame into the kitchen. America was standing with his back to the door, barefoot on the tile floor with an apron tied over his t-shirt and jeans. He had oven mitts on both hands, just pulling a tray of cookies (Canada's nose told him they were maple cookies) out of the oven as he reached the chorus.
"Brits have got the monarchy, the U.S. has the money-" An extra little swing of America's hips there, and Canada had to muffle a laugh. "But I know that you wanna be Canadian!"
"Who?" Kumajiro asked from where he was sitting on the counter eying the plates of fresh cookies with ravenous intent. America reached over, absently boffing the bear lightly with his oven mitt.
"The French have got the wine and cheese, koalas chill with the Aussies, but I know that you wanna be Canadian!"
Canada couldn't stand it any longer. As soon as the hot cookie pan was safely on the stove and America had stepped away from it, Canada launched himself across the intervening space and pinned America back against the counter.
America squawked and flailed, twisting in Canada's grip to stare wide-eyed at his lover. "What the fuck-"
"So you want to be Canadian, eh?" Canada practically purred, enjoying the way America's eyes went even wider. "I can arrange that."
America sputtered, slowly turning a fantastic shade of red. "Hey, no- I didn't mean- I like the beat-"
"Which is why you were singing so... enthusiastically," Canada agreed, pressing closer to America. One hand came up to toy with the tie on America's apron, both of them ignoring the sound of Kumajiro munching cookies in the background.
"U-uh-" America swallowed. "I keep forgetting how much you can be like France... Look, Canada-"
Canada just smirked, tugging America closer and kissing him hard enough to muffle any further protest. That is, save for one last wail of "It's not even hockey season!"
Brits have got the monarchy
The U.S. has the money
But I know that you wanna be Canadian...