blood_winged (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blood_winged) wrote2011-09-18 01:53 pm
blood_winged) wrote2011-09-18 01:53 pm
Entry tags:
[Denmark/Norway] Familiarity [aph_fluffathon]
Title: Familiarity
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Characters: Denmark, Norway.
Prompt: Denmark/Norway. One of Norway's insults actually affects Denmark and he gets really down on himself. Now Norway has to find a way to cheer him up and return him to his usual obnoxious self.
Summary: Simple fluff. Denmark takes one of Norway's insults to heart and tries to change, but that wasn't really what Norway had in mind.
“You are even more thick-headed than Sverige! Stupid, stupid!”
Denmark knew Norway.
Or, at least, he thought he did. It was when Aleksander had turned fiery eyes on him and let loose a long string of insults, not for the first time, that it had finally sunk into Matias’ mind that perhaps he didn’t know his lover that well after all. For all the years, all the centuries they had spent together, Aleksander was still as much of a mystery to him as he had been when they had first met, and the moment that initial doubt had worked its way into the Dane’s quite simple one-track mind, it had seemed to open a floodgate of other niggling little thoughts that had been held back for so long by the certainty he had that despite his temperament, the Norwegian did love him.
It hadn’t taken long for Aleksander to notice the change in the taller man’s demeanour. He had been quite obviously trying to be more mature, more tolerable, less noisy, though his levels of success on all counts had varied. His sudden alteration in mood only served to make Aleksander more annoyed with him, and he found himself growing more and more despondent. It didn’t suit him well and made him annoyed and sleepy, and he was finding that he couldn’t even enjoy alcohol like he used to.
Aleksander had never been slow on the uptake, though he wasn’t terribly adept at showing his feelings, and it took some time before he finally displayed that he had had enough of his lover’s moping. He hadn’t said a word, but had dragged the man out to the car and forced him into it, before driving the two of them up to Trondheim. It was there that they had, centuries ago, held their first conversation that hadn’t involved Aleksander telling the Dane to get out of his country, and it had been the place that Matias had first realised he had fallen for the stubborn, stoic little Norwegian. He would spend the next five hundred years trying to win his heart.
Despite how slow he could sometimes be it didn’t take Matias long to figure out why they were there, and once he did, he gripped Aleksander’s hand tightly and began to pull him towards a more familiar spot while the smaller Nordic kept one hand on his hat to save it from being blown off his head. Still, he felt a strange feeling that he identified as wariness, but he was an easy person to please, and just being there with the man he loved was enough to keep him happy.
Eventually, his curiosity worked its way to the surface and he glanced over at the other Nordic, his lips twisting in something like a puzzled expression before he finally spoke, knowing that the man was listening only by the way that he cocked his head to one side in a barely noticeable twitch.
“Hey, Norge, uh… what are we doing here?”
“You are stupid,” Aleksander muttered after a moment, and Matias felt his heart sink, yet he couldn’t shift his eyes from the Norwegian’s face. A few seconds passed, agonising for the Dane, and then the smaller male continued. “But, I do not like how you behave when you believe that to be true. I have brought you here to remind you of how much you helped me when we first met, even though I did not like you.”
“Oh.” The Dane looked down at his feet. “So uh… what are we doing here?”
Sighing, Aleksander shook his head and slid one hand out of his pocket, pushing it into the pocket of Matias’ coat and finding his hand, clasping it. Matias blinked a few times, then a slow grin began to work its way over his face. He looked forwards, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the tiniest of smiles twitch at Aleksander’s lips, and he knew in that moment that everything was going to be fine. They walked down the beach together, the wind tugging at their hair and clothes, until they came to a spot which was familiar to the both of them despite how much the years had changed it. It had been here that Matias had first told Aleksander that he loved him, all those centuries ago, and Aleksander had not said anything, not understanding his own feelings or how ones so strong could emerge so quickly.
It was cold, but Matias’ coat covered them both as they sat on the windswept beach watching the waves crashing against the shore.
Aleksander was watching. Matias’ eyes were closed, his back against his smaller companion’s chest, shoulders relaxed as slim fingers weaved through his hair, shifting the thick blond locks this way and that, though never able to stray them far from the permanent rooster-haired style that they always fell into without fail. Quiet sounds would leave the Danish nation now and then, soft hums of contentment when Aleksander scratched his nails over the taller man’s scalp or trailed warm fingertips around the shell of his ear. It was silent here, the peace sinking into the Norwegian nation’s body like a balm on frayed nerves, with Matias’ boisterous nature tamed and calmed. It was good for the man, to be quiet every so often. Aleksander wrapped his arms around Matias and rested his chin on the top of his head, and the Dane let out a pleased sound, low enough to be little more than a vibration in his chest. The wind ruffled their hair and whipped the longer strands of Aleksander’s around his face, the tips of his ears stinging with cold but the rest of him so warm that he barely noticed it.
That they could have this kind of time together now was such a blessing. They had been through so much together to arrive at this point, so much pain and heartache, thrown together only to be torn apart again and both unwillingly. An outsider would look at them and think that they made an odd pair, one so loud and the other so stoic, but they were counterpoints for one another, two sides of the same coin, lost without each other and only complete when they were together.
Matias felt Aleksander press his nose lightly into his hair and made a small, curious ‘hmm?’ in response. The larger man moved, drawing away from Aleksander’s chest, turning and looking at him, blue eyes fixing to the indigo ones in front of him. Aleksander seemed to tolerate this, for several long moments before raising one eyebrow and flicking the Dane’s forehead.
“Ow!” He might have toppled over backwards in a show of dramatics if Aleksander had not grabbed the front of his shirt. “What was that for…” he whined.
“Stupid Denmark,” Aleksander retorted, and for the briefest of moments the Dane’s expression fell, then his face lit up again and he pushed his nose against the smaller blonde’s.
“I don’t mind being stupid as long as you love me,” he cooed. He knew that Aleksander hated it when he did that. It threw the quieter Nordic off his stride every time and left him completely unsure of what to say. Matias found him confusing, and he would often complain that the man would call him stupid and any other combination of insults while at the same time being physically affectionate, and it had only been recently that he had devised that all-too-unfair way of responding to it. For the lack of any appropriate answer, Aleksander let out a little huff and ran his hands up over the larger man’s shoulders, provoking a little wriggle from the Dane and another of those little pleased noises.
“That… You are not…”
“I’m not..?” If Matias had been a dog his tail would have been wagging, that dopey grin on his face again as he looked into Aleksander’s eyes. Moments later, however, he was sputtering as Aleksander’s hand came into contact with his face, pushing him away as the smaller man got up and began to walk along the beach, his head turned a little as he watched the other over his shoulder. Matias lay there for a moment, too surprised to move, then he let out a little laugh and scrambled to his feet, running to catch up and slinging his arm around the Norwegian nation’s shoulders.
He hadn’t needed to hear it, really.
He knew Norway.
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Characters: Denmark, Norway.
Prompt: Denmark/Norway. One of Norway's insults actually affects Denmark and he gets really down on himself. Now Norway has to find a way to cheer him up and return him to his usual obnoxious self.
Summary: Simple fluff. Denmark takes one of Norway's insults to heart and tries to change, but that wasn't really what Norway had in mind.
*****
“You are even more thick-headed than Sverige! Stupid, stupid!”
Denmark knew Norway.
Or, at least, he thought he did. It was when Aleksander had turned fiery eyes on him and let loose a long string of insults, not for the first time, that it had finally sunk into Matias’ mind that perhaps he didn’t know his lover that well after all. For all the years, all the centuries they had spent together, Aleksander was still as much of a mystery to him as he had been when they had first met, and the moment that initial doubt had worked its way into the Dane’s quite simple one-track mind, it had seemed to open a floodgate of other niggling little thoughts that had been held back for so long by the certainty he had that despite his temperament, the Norwegian did love him.
It hadn’t taken long for Aleksander to notice the change in the taller man’s demeanour. He had been quite obviously trying to be more mature, more tolerable, less noisy, though his levels of success on all counts had varied. His sudden alteration in mood only served to make Aleksander more annoyed with him, and he found himself growing more and more despondent. It didn’t suit him well and made him annoyed and sleepy, and he was finding that he couldn’t even enjoy alcohol like he used to.
Aleksander had never been slow on the uptake, though he wasn’t terribly adept at showing his feelings, and it took some time before he finally displayed that he had had enough of his lover’s moping. He hadn’t said a word, but had dragged the man out to the car and forced him into it, before driving the two of them up to Trondheim. It was there that they had, centuries ago, held their first conversation that hadn’t involved Aleksander telling the Dane to get out of his country, and it had been the place that Matias had first realised he had fallen for the stubborn, stoic little Norwegian. He would spend the next five hundred years trying to win his heart.
Despite how slow he could sometimes be it didn’t take Matias long to figure out why they were there, and once he did, he gripped Aleksander’s hand tightly and began to pull him towards a more familiar spot while the smaller Nordic kept one hand on his hat to save it from being blown off his head. Still, he felt a strange feeling that he identified as wariness, but he was an easy person to please, and just being there with the man he loved was enough to keep him happy.
Eventually, his curiosity worked its way to the surface and he glanced over at the other Nordic, his lips twisting in something like a puzzled expression before he finally spoke, knowing that the man was listening only by the way that he cocked his head to one side in a barely noticeable twitch.
“Hey, Norge, uh… what are we doing here?”
“You are stupid,” Aleksander muttered after a moment, and Matias felt his heart sink, yet he couldn’t shift his eyes from the Norwegian’s face. A few seconds passed, agonising for the Dane, and then the smaller male continued. “But, I do not like how you behave when you believe that to be true. I have brought you here to remind you of how much you helped me when we first met, even though I did not like you.”
“Oh.” The Dane looked down at his feet. “So uh… what are we doing here?”
Sighing, Aleksander shook his head and slid one hand out of his pocket, pushing it into the pocket of Matias’ coat and finding his hand, clasping it. Matias blinked a few times, then a slow grin began to work its way over his face. He looked forwards, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the tiniest of smiles twitch at Aleksander’s lips, and he knew in that moment that everything was going to be fine. They walked down the beach together, the wind tugging at their hair and clothes, until they came to a spot which was familiar to the both of them despite how much the years had changed it. It had been here that Matias had first told Aleksander that he loved him, all those centuries ago, and Aleksander had not said anything, not understanding his own feelings or how ones so strong could emerge so quickly.
It was cold, but Matias’ coat covered them both as they sat on the windswept beach watching the waves crashing against the shore.
Aleksander was watching. Matias’ eyes were closed, his back against his smaller companion’s chest, shoulders relaxed as slim fingers weaved through his hair, shifting the thick blond locks this way and that, though never able to stray them far from the permanent rooster-haired style that they always fell into without fail. Quiet sounds would leave the Danish nation now and then, soft hums of contentment when Aleksander scratched his nails over the taller man’s scalp or trailed warm fingertips around the shell of his ear. It was silent here, the peace sinking into the Norwegian nation’s body like a balm on frayed nerves, with Matias’ boisterous nature tamed and calmed. It was good for the man, to be quiet every so often. Aleksander wrapped his arms around Matias and rested his chin on the top of his head, and the Dane let out a pleased sound, low enough to be little more than a vibration in his chest. The wind ruffled their hair and whipped the longer strands of Aleksander’s around his face, the tips of his ears stinging with cold but the rest of him so warm that he barely noticed it.
That they could have this kind of time together now was such a blessing. They had been through so much together to arrive at this point, so much pain and heartache, thrown together only to be torn apart again and both unwillingly. An outsider would look at them and think that they made an odd pair, one so loud and the other so stoic, but they were counterpoints for one another, two sides of the same coin, lost without each other and only complete when they were together.
Matias felt Aleksander press his nose lightly into his hair and made a small, curious ‘hmm?’ in response. The larger man moved, drawing away from Aleksander’s chest, turning and looking at him, blue eyes fixing to the indigo ones in front of him. Aleksander seemed to tolerate this, for several long moments before raising one eyebrow and flicking the Dane’s forehead.
“Ow!” He might have toppled over backwards in a show of dramatics if Aleksander had not grabbed the front of his shirt. “What was that for…” he whined.
“Stupid Denmark,” Aleksander retorted, and for the briefest of moments the Dane’s expression fell, then his face lit up again and he pushed his nose against the smaller blonde’s.
“I don’t mind being stupid as long as you love me,” he cooed. He knew that Aleksander hated it when he did that. It threw the quieter Nordic off his stride every time and left him completely unsure of what to say. Matias found him confusing, and he would often complain that the man would call him stupid and any other combination of insults while at the same time being physically affectionate, and it had only been recently that he had devised that all-too-unfair way of responding to it. For the lack of any appropriate answer, Aleksander let out a little huff and ran his hands up over the larger man’s shoulders, provoking a little wriggle from the Dane and another of those little pleased noises.
“That… You are not…”
“I’m not..?” If Matias had been a dog his tail would have been wagging, that dopey grin on his face again as he looked into Aleksander’s eyes. Moments later, however, he was sputtering as Aleksander’s hand came into contact with his face, pushing him away as the smaller man got up and began to walk along the beach, his head turned a little as he watched the other over his shoulder. Matias lay there for a moment, too surprised to move, then he let out a little laugh and scrambled to his feet, running to catch up and slinging his arm around the Norwegian nation’s shoulders.
He hadn’t needed to hear it, really.
He knew Norway.