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When Souta asked Nao if he wanted to join him and his family on a trip to Canada during summer break, the last thing Souta expected was for Nao to agree.
His initial offer had been mainly a joke—his mother insisted on asking Nao if he wanted to join, but Souta highly doubted he’d want to be anywhere near that country in fear of who might show up. Souta absolutely wouldn’t complain about Canadian Nao hanging around some more, but he also respected his boyfriend’s wishes…
…Mostly.
Okay, was it a crime to try to convince his boyfriend to accept himself? Canadian parts and all? As Souta told him before, having an intense rivalry with himself sounded exhausting. Nao didn’t confirm or deny, but Souta could see it in his subtle body language that trying to hold back Canadian Nao took a toll on him.
Souta wasn’t pushy with it, though. At the end of the day, this was Nao’s body, and Souta wasn’t going to force him to let Canadian Nao be in control if he really didn’t want him to be.
Souta just hoped Regular Nao knew how much he loved all parts of him, though. Moose-riding alter ego and all.
Canadian Nao didn’t immediately pop out the moment their plane landed on Canadian ground, and Souta watched every second of Nao’s shoulders dropping in relief with the assurance that, even in Canadian Nao’s homeland, Regular Nao still managed to contain him.
Though, now that they were in Canada…Maybe…
No. Every Canadian thing Souta wanted to experience, he could experience it with Regular Nao. Sure, Canadian Nao would have provided him with a more authentic experience, but learning about these new and exciting concepts with an equally clueless Nao sounded just as fun.
Souta’s family didn’t know about Canadian Nao. Souta suggested several times that Nao should give them a warning, at least, but Nao insisted that he was fine. That Canadian Nao absolutely would not be an issue around them, because he wouldn’t show up in the first place.
Coming out as boyfriends to Souta’s parents was hard enough, but coming out as Canadian? Now that was a whole other level that Nao apparently was not ready to reach.
Souta barely gave Nao a chance to settle into his hotel room before he snatched the boy and dragged him away, ready and eager to explore the great, snowy land of maple syrup and bagged milk.
…Well, unfortunately, they wouldn’t be seeing snow anytime soon, since they visited in the middle of summer. However, many other activities were still on the table! Souta couldn’t wait.
“I think we should get some poutine first,” Souta suggested. “How about it?”
Nao sighed through his nose—a tense, conflicted noise. “Okay, but…How do you know about poutine?”
Souta chuckled. “I think you can guess,” he answered honestly. “How is he, by the way? Still keeping him under control okay?”
“Mhm,” Nao replied, though his tone suggested that his claim wasn’t entirely true. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Right,” Souta drawled. He hesitated, but after a moment, gingerly took Nao’s hand into his own. “We’re in his homeland, so it would make sense if you were having trouble.”
“I’m not,” Nao insisted, squeezing Souta’s hand a bit tighter. “He’s not coming out. I’m sorry about that.”
Souta bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if this was Regular Nao genuinely apologizing, or if Canadian Nao was closer than Souta thought, despite Regular Nao’s words.
“Okay,” Souta conceded. “It’s alright. I love you, Nao. Canadian Nao isn’t going to change that.”
Nao’s lips formed a soft smile. “I know,” he assured. “I know.” He brought Souta’s hand up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss onto his knuckles. “We can go try poutine, if you want.”
Souta blushed, but his face brightened with a radiant smile nonetheless. “Yes, I do! Come on. I hope there’s a poutine shop nearby…”
Canadian Nao would be able to detect one using his ultra Canadian instincts.
No, no. Souta could not get carried away. Absolutely not.
But, he was starting to crave those maple syrup lips again…
And the charming way he spoke…
And his promises…Those alluring, oh so mystifying promises…
“Have you ever heard of bagged milk?” Souta asked suddenly.
Nao grimaced. “That sounds horrible.”
“Don’t be mean,” Souta said. “I want to see what the hype is about.”
Nao chuckled and shook his head. “Alright. Strange, but whatever you want.”
An hour later, the two had acquired their poutine, and found a park bench to sit and eat it. They agreed to share one, since they weren’t sure if they’d enjoy the local delicacy. Souta wondered if Regular Nao and Canadian Nao shared the same taste buds, or if it was possible for only Canadian Nao to like poutine.
“Here,” Nao said, handing Souta the takeout box, “you hold it.”
Souta obliged and flipped open the box. “Why? Do you think Canadian Nao will pop out if you hold it?” He laughed.
Nao remained silent.
“...You are concerned about that,” Souta gasped.
Nao glared at the poutine, gripping his plastic fork in a deathly grip, and Souta was slightly concerned he’d snap it. While Nao was acting like the poutine was evil, Souta’s stomach growled, and he couldn’t wait to dig in.
“He wants to come out more than ever right now,” Nao said.
Souta shoved down the burst of excitement from that information. “Oh. Dang.”
Despite Nao’s complaints, he gathered some fries onto his fork, and Souta did the same. Nao took a deep breath, probably using all his energy to keep Canadian Nao under control, and took a bite at the same time as Souta.
Souta felt like he was ascending.
Oh, great Canadian gods, thank you for your divine creation. I will never take your blessing for granted.
“Eh, do you like it?”
Wait.
Souta recognized that voice.
It sounded very similar to Nao’s, but it had a certain accent…Charismatic, and oh-so Canadian…
Souta snapped his attention back to Nao with wide eyes, and to his absolute delight, the sight of that familiar, fluffy trapper hat and red plaid flannel blessed his eyes, as well as that stunning Canadian smirk.
“Canadian Nao!” Souta exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“He doesn’t like me, eh?” Canadian Nao said. He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I’m part of him.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Souta wiped gravy from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. “I mean, I love you both, obviously.” He held the poutine between them. “Okay, so, do you and Nao have separate tastes? Like, if you like poutine, does he automatically like it as well?”
Canadian Nao took another forkful and shook his head. “I don’t like some of the foods he does,” he answered. “I’m not sure if he likes everything I do.”
“I see.” Souta ate another forkful as well. “So…” he said through a mouthful of food. He swallowed before continuing, “how long do you think you’ll be around this time? I have so many things I wanna do with you…”
“Slow down, my maple syrup boy,” Canadian Nao said with a soft chuckle. “Finish eating first. I’ve got plans, eh? Don’t worry.”
Souta smiled. “Okay, okay.”
“Hey.” Canadian Nao set his fork down in the box, then reached for Souta’s face. Souta froze, blushing. Canadian Nao caressed the corner of his lip, gathering the gravy Souta once again failed to keep in his mouth.
Canadian Nao frowned. “Hmm…”
“Hm?”
“It didn’t all come off.”
“Oh.”
“I need a new method. What do you think, eh?”
Before Souta gave his answer, Canadian Nao’s lips were against his, and Souta nearly made an embarrassingly excited noise into the kiss. Finally, after so long, he was granted another taste of those gloriously sweet maple syrup lips.
Going on a vacation to Canada was the best decision his family had ever made.
When they pulled away, Canadian Nao brushed his fingers through Souta’s hair. Souta felt his brain melt into a sticky puddle of maple syrup as he leaned into the gentle caresses—almost as if Canadian Nao was enchanting him and coaxing him into a Canadian headspace.
He should have known by now that he didn’t need to manually put him into a Canadian headspace. Souta was always there, even if he didn’t always pay attention to it.
“The finest moose, indeed,” Canadian Nao said, pulling away.
“You still think that’s true?” Souta asked. “That I’m beautiful, like the finest moose?”
“You’ve gotten even more beautiful since I last saw you,” Canadian Nao confessed. “Bagged milk can’t even compete with you.”
Souta leaned forward. “So, you’re finally going to show me bagged milk?!”
Canadian Nao smirked. “Finish your poutine. Then, I’ll show you around Canada, eh?”
~~~
First on the itinerary was maple syrup tasting.
“You need to drink it straight from the bottle to get the full experience,” Canadian Nao explained as they leisurely walked through downtown, their fingers intertwined. Nobody stared at Canadian Nao because this was normal. Canadian Nao didn’t stick out like bagged milk in an American grocery store.
The thought warmed Souta’s heart.
“Oh, yeah?” Souta replied. “Interesting. So do you do maple syrup shots or something?”
“That is a possibility,” Canadian Nao answered. “However, I prefer drinking straight from the bottle. It’s the true Canadian way.”
“Is that not too sweet?” Souta asked.
“Do you doubt me, my maple syrup boy?”
“No, no! Never!” Souta quickly assured. “You’re the Canada expert, after all.”
“Eh,” Canadian Nao agreed.
“Say, I’m actually curious… about…” Souta's words trailed off when they passed a massive stadium. Displayed on the LED screen above the front entrance was a picture of a hockey player in action, with his hockey stick out and ready to strike the puck into a net positioned offscreen.
Souta paused and stared in awe.
“Whoa…” he breathed. “I’ve never watched a hockey game before,” he admitted. “Hey, Canadian Nao! We should get tickets to tonight’s game! Can we, please—”
Canadian Nao tightened his grip on his hand harder than Souta was anticipating. Souta directed a worried gaze the Canadian boy’s way.
“Canadian Nao?” he asked.
“No,” Canadian Nao denied, cold and uncharacteristically strict. “We can’t. Come on.”
Canadian Nao marched away, pulling Souta along with him and giving him no room to protest. Souta yelped and stumbled over his feet as he was forced to follow, stunned by Canadian Nao’s sudden shift in demeanour.
“What’s wrong?” Souta tried again. “Why can’t we watch the hockey game? I thought Canadians loved hockey? Isn’t that like, your sport?”
Canadian Nao didn’t say anything for a long few moments. Then, he sighed, refusing eye contact with Souta.
“I…” he paused. Canadian Nao seemed… nervous? Fearful, even? “For our own safety, we can’t be anywhere near hockey.”
“Okay, but why?” Souta persisted.
“Hockey sticks are haunted.”
Souta stopped in his tracks, and so did Canadian Nao.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, Souta started giggling.
Canadian Nao frowned. “This isn’t a laughing matter, eh. They’re evil.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Souta apologized like a true Canadian. “It’s just— haunted? Are you serious?”
“Very,” Canadian Nao confirmed. “Don’t go near them, Souta. I can’t put you in danger, especially before you’ve drunk the finest maple syrup straight from the bottle, or learned how to serve bagged milk.”
“Wait, so, if they’re really haunted, then…Why is hockey even legal?”
“Nobody else knows about hockey sticks’ wicked ways,” Canadian Nao answered. “At the very least, I can keep you safe.”
Souta realized just how serious Canadian Nao was, and thought that maybe…Maybe Canadian Nao was right. Maybe hockey sticks were haunted and dangerous. He would know better than Souta, after all. He was the one who cried maple syrup and could find a moose no matter where in the world he was.
Speaking of…
“Wait, so,” Souta started, “you can summon a moose at will, but not maple syrup or bagged milk or poutine?”
“I’m afraid not.” Canadian Nao shook his head. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Canadians are fascinating.”
“Oh, no, moose summoning skills are not common,” Canadian Nao corrected. “I’m lucky enough to have that skill, eh? Means I can give you all the moose rides you want.”
Souta smiled as he remembered the first moose ride Canadian Nao took him on, and his reminiscing seemed to lighten the mood.
“There we go.” Canadian Nao reciprocated the smile. “Don’t think about the hockey sticks, eh? Just think about the maple syrup to come.”
“Mmm…” Souta hummed, then gazed at Canadian Nao’s lips. “No matter how much syrup I chug, I think I know which flavour I’ll always prefer…”
Canadian Nao’s smile shifted into a smirk. “Eh? Is that right?”
“Mhm.” He made direct eye contact. “Kiss me again, moose boy.”
Canadian Nao chuckled. “As you wish, my maple syrup boy.”
One day, Regular Nao would accept Canadian Nao as a part of himself. Souta was confident he would.
Souta traced a finger along the soft fur of the hat, then bunched some of Canadian Nao’s flannel in a fist and tugged him away from their sweet kiss. “Alright, no more distractions. Let’s ditch the haunted hockey sticks and go taste that maple syrup.”
“Eh. I thought you’d never ask.”