Title: Beach Comber
Characters: Sweden/Norway
Rating: PG?
Notes: This one time I thought Yuu was gonna have a sucky day, and then he did.
Warnings: I can't write cute things, accents.
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"Gettin' dark."
Norway looked up from his place on the blanket beside Sweden and out over the abandoned cove. The sun was barely visible, the darkening sky and ocean beginning to meld together at their border into the same dark shade of blue.
Sweden smiled, just a bit, at the momentary surprise that flickered across Norway's face, and then stood up and nodded to the shoreline. Nothing more needed to be said; Norway bobbed his head once, yes, sat his book aside, and the two idly made their way toward the ocean. Two mismatched sets of footprints that meandered and wove together, away, and back again.
It was a nice evening, Sweden thought. Balmy, but the breeze made it comfortable, and while he could comment on the weather, or the view, or their day spent reading and knitting, respectively...one look at Norway's lax stance made it obvious that he thought the same. They turned when the water began lapping at their trousers, not sure about the direction, and bumped into one another as each tried to go the other way. Sweden let out a chuckle. No reason to be embarrassed, not this evening.
To the left, then.
Norway made a sound and paused, bending down to roll up his cuffs further. "Shame fer a nice pair a'slacks to get ruined," he muttered.
Sweden nodded and did the same, rolling them all the way up to his knees.
He heard Norway's snort and looked at him, questioning. "Gonna prance 'round in th' ocean, are ya?"
At that he laughed outright. It was hard not to, seeing Norway attempt to hide his grin, and after a day like today - the both of them were at ease. He laughed; Norway smiled.
"If y'want me to."
Norway's expression fell into something close to teasing. "Well then, y'best get on with it," he replied, crossing his arms.
Sweden looked around - night was falling fast, the beach was abandoned - shrugged. "'f y'want."
"Sure would be a sight."
"Mm."
They stood together and the tide crept closer. Finally Norway turned and they continued down the coast at a leisurely pace, occasionally brushing against one another, commenting on everything and nothing at all, their low voices barely discernible over the waves. They could talk, they could keep quiet, either way the atmosphere remained the same, this whatever-it-was between them for the moment. Tonight Norway was chatty, and Sweden did his best to keep up. He didn't mind, as he didn't think it had anything to do with clearing away awkwardness or the like, but rather wanting...
Wanting what?
"Sver, yer stuck in yer head," Norway said, rolling his eyes and breaking Sweden's musing.
Sweden looked to Norway, and they continued a few paces before Norway turned back to him. "Yup, y'are. So you'd best be tellin' me what's a-goin' on in that big head o'yourn that you'd be ignorin' perfectly fine comp'ny."
Sweden paused, shuffled in place, and kept looking. Norway waited.
The sun was down completely but the night was still blue and bright, and Norway's features looked even finer in the moonlight. A wave came up, cool and rushing, over Sweden's feet.
Sweden opened his mouth, once, started - gave up on words and reached out with one hand to cup the back of Norway's head instead.
"I see."
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Seemed like you were gonna have a sucky day, so, yeah.
Also this is 1/2.