Seven Minutes in Heaven (Cuba)

You excitedly reach your hand into the hat, wondering who you would get of the handsome men around you. Well, you did hope for a certain one, not that you'd ever tell anyone. Blushing already, you pulled out a...

"Oh!" you hear a quiet gasp behind you. 

"Canada?" you deflate, seeing the flustered blonde. No offence to him but you didn't really like how shy he was. Then, you hear a chuckle behind you. That chuckle. You blush, refusing to face the Cuban, as he leads you to the closet and closes the door behind him. Then, after sitting in the dark for a moment, he turns you, touching your forehead to his own. 

"(Y/n)," he murmurs, concerned, "do you have a fever? You seem a bit warm." 

"Well that's because I'm locked in a closet with the guy I've had a crush on since the day I met him and we're supposed to kiss!" you almost yell into his face, your blush darkening and you turn once more, away from him. 

"(Y/n)," Cuba whispers again, his heavy hand on your shoulder, pushing the sleeve of your dress down. You shiver at his touch, biting your lip as he leans so that his breath is hot on your neck. "Close your eyes," you do as he says and he presses his lips gently to your neck, "and count to ten." 

You take a deep breath as he counts down. "Ten..." he breaths, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

"N-nine..." you continue shakily while he spins you in his arms, "Eight," there's a kiss on your ear, "S-seven," on your forehead, "Six," your cheek, "Six," the other cheek, "Five," your nose, "Four," the top of your head.

You swallow, not counting anymore, but Cuba picks up where you left off, "Three," he cups your face with one hand, "two..." you feel his breath on your face and you gasp, "one." You quickly open your eyes as his lips crash into yours. You panic and then, deciding nothing could go wrong, you relaxed, leaning a hand lazily against his chest and draping the other over his shoulder as he pushes you against a wall. Trying to help, you stand on your toes but this only gives him the idea to hoist you onto his hips. Gasping, you push away, staring down at him. 

"What, did I do something wrong?" he asks half-way, smirking. You furrow your eyebrows, not sure, when the door flies open. The door that just happened to be what you were leaning on, sending you and Cuba crashing to the floor, him on top of you. He hovers over your body, grinning like an idiot, and places a quick kiss to you lips before jumping up and walking away. This left you dazed on the floor until he came back, sighing, to pick you up and put you in his car, driving to the only place you'd rather be than that closet.

His house.