[Fanfic] - and the things that you say
Title: and the things that you say
Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings: That thing where I try to write fluff.
Summary: Denmark wants to make snowmen. It's way too early for that shit.
Notes: Revamp of an Anon Meme drabble where I try to wrap my head around a pairing I Don't Get. Day Three of Ficmas!
Thunk.
Norway halfway woke, then rolled over.
Thunk. Thunk-thunk-thunk.
He rolled into the pillow, felt it muffle his sigh, felt more than heard it - pulled the covers over his head and let that mute the world further. Shut it all out. Whatever it was at the window, it could wait until it wasn't - he peeked out - morning light. Or something like it. Too early, either way, it was. Pulled the covers up again, over his -
Thunk-thunk, followed by more yelling that he couldn't quite silence entirely.
He shoved down a sigh and and turned onto his back, eyes closed, knowing it was useless. Denmark's loud mouth, he could hear it through the snow-covered window. And just in case he might've missed it, a few more thunks at the window for his trouble. He lurched out of bed, cold and grumpy, and ripped it open, not willing to hold his arms to himself against the cold seeping in, up the legs of his pajamas.
"Yeh've got a key," he groused.
"Nor! Look! I made us!" Denmark waved, frantically, as if Norway wouldn't see him at all if he didn't, and pointed to his snowmen - crude versions of the two of them, one leaning against the other. Norway might think it cute if it weren't so early, if the sun against the snow didn't hurt his eyes so much. If his bed didn't seem so appealing against the onslaught of cold and light and noise he was facing, after a long night up with a novel.
No use. He just shut his window and padded downstairs to let Denmark in.
"Hey, Norge!" Denmark blustered in like he lived here, kissed Norway on the cheek and kept going, shucking off snow-covered outerclothes on his way to the coffeepot. Punched a button and blew on his red, chapped hands.
Norway shut the door with more force than necessary and strode over with a grimace, covering Denmark's hands with his own.
"Yer gonna get frostbite, carryin' on like that."
Denmark just grinned down at him, and kissed him, full-out. Pulled away before Norway was finished and opened his big dumb mouth.
“Not if I got ya t’warm me up, I don’t!”
Norway thought that big dumb mouth could be used in better ways than that, clocked him for using it the wrong way, and made himself a cup of coffee - ignored Denmark’s yelp, and ignored Denmark’s chatter as he poured his own coffee and plopped down beside him.
Couldn’t ignore the way the oaf leaned back in his chair, though.
“M’goin back to bed.”
“Nah, Norge, it’s - “
“Too damn early, m’tellin’ ya now.”
“Isn't at all! S'just th’ right time t’build some more snowmen!”
Norway didn’t answer that, and made his way up the stairs with Denmark following him the entire way, crashing up after him with loud footfalls and loud words, words that were too cheerful for this time of day, insisting that they would build the best snowmen ever, just you wait.
“Ain’t goin’ out there t’build no snowmen.” He settled back into his bed. Denmark settled right down on the edge and whined.
“Noooorge. Our snowmen’re gonna be all by their lonesome, now.”
“They’ll be fine.”
“They don’t got any coffee!”
A flat look.
“They’re gonna want coffee.”
“They’re gonna want airheaded Danes ta get off-a their beds.”
“Norway, yer not a snowman.”
“An’ you’re not either. They ain’t gonna be lonesome.”
“But they could be!”
“The two of ‘em‘ll be fine on their own.” He sent Denmark a look at that.
“Nah, they’re gonna want a Sver-snowman, an’ a - “
Norway sent him a good, hard look.
“Y’aren’t talkin’ ‘bout snowmen anymore, are ya.”
“Shut yer trap an’ put that coffee down.”
Denmark put the coffee down after another sip. Or two. Or three. Got another look, set it down for real, and stripped down to his boxer-briefs. Got under the blankets.
“We’re gonna get us all together later, right?”
“If ya don’t snore like you’re disposed ta, might think on it.”
Denmark kissed him again, and by the time they got out of bed, it was twilight.
“We’re still gonna make ‘em, aren’t we?”
---
They put their family together by moonlight, just the two of them, that year.
---
If Norway had known that Denmark would insist on it every single year, the very morning (though Denmark insisted it was afternoon) of the first big snowfall - he would've left the idiot out in the cold that first time.
Maybe.
Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings: That thing where I try to write fluff.
Summary: Denmark wants to make snowmen. It's way too early for that shit.
Notes: Revamp of an Anon Meme drabble where I try to wrap my head around a pairing I Don't Get. Day Three of Ficmas!
Thunk.
Norway halfway woke, then rolled over.
Thunk. Thunk-thunk-thunk.
He rolled into the pillow, felt it muffle his sigh, felt more than heard it - pulled the covers over his head and let that mute the world further. Shut it all out. Whatever it was at the window, it could wait until it wasn't - he peeked out - morning light. Or something like it. Too early, either way, it was. Pulled the covers up again, over his -
Thunk-thunk, followed by more yelling that he couldn't quite silence entirely.
He shoved down a sigh and and turned onto his back, eyes closed, knowing it was useless. Denmark's loud mouth, he could hear it through the snow-covered window. And just in case he might've missed it, a few more thunks at the window for his trouble. He lurched out of bed, cold and grumpy, and ripped it open, not willing to hold his arms to himself against the cold seeping in, up the legs of his pajamas.
"Yeh've got a key," he groused.
"Nor! Look! I made us!" Denmark waved, frantically, as if Norway wouldn't see him at all if he didn't, and pointed to his snowmen - crude versions of the two of them, one leaning against the other. Norway might think it cute if it weren't so early, if the sun against the snow didn't hurt his eyes so much. If his bed didn't seem so appealing against the onslaught of cold and light and noise he was facing, after a long night up with a novel.
No use. He just shut his window and padded downstairs to let Denmark in.
"Hey, Norge!" Denmark blustered in like he lived here, kissed Norway on the cheek and kept going, shucking off snow-covered outerclothes on his way to the coffeepot. Punched a button and blew on his red, chapped hands.
Norway shut the door with more force than necessary and strode over with a grimace, covering Denmark's hands with his own.
"Yer gonna get frostbite, carryin' on like that."
Denmark just grinned down at him, and kissed him, full-out. Pulled away before Norway was finished and opened his big dumb mouth.
“Not if I got ya t’warm me up, I don’t!”
Norway thought that big dumb mouth could be used in better ways than that, clocked him for using it the wrong way, and made himself a cup of coffee - ignored Denmark’s yelp, and ignored Denmark’s chatter as he poured his own coffee and plopped down beside him.
Couldn’t ignore the way the oaf leaned back in his chair, though.
“M’goin back to bed.”
“Nah, Norge, it’s - “
“Too damn early, m’tellin’ ya now.”
“Isn't at all! S'just th’ right time t’build some more snowmen!”
Norway didn’t answer that, and made his way up the stairs with Denmark following him the entire way, crashing up after him with loud footfalls and loud words, words that were too cheerful for this time of day, insisting that they would build the best snowmen ever, just you wait.
“Ain’t goin’ out there t’build no snowmen.” He settled back into his bed. Denmark settled right down on the edge and whined.
“Noooorge. Our snowmen’re gonna be all by their lonesome, now.”
“They’ll be fine.”
“They don’t got any coffee!”
A flat look.
“They’re gonna want coffee.”
“They’re gonna want airheaded Danes ta get off-a their beds.”
“Norway, yer not a snowman.”
“An’ you’re not either. They ain’t gonna be lonesome.”
“But they could be!”
“The two of ‘em‘ll be fine on their own.” He sent Denmark a look at that.
“Nah, they’re gonna want a Sver-snowman, an’ a - “
Norway sent him a good, hard look.
“Y’aren’t talkin’ ‘bout snowmen anymore, are ya.”
“Shut yer trap an’ put that coffee down.”
Denmark put the coffee down after another sip. Or two. Or three. Got another look, set it down for real, and stripped down to his boxer-briefs. Got under the blankets.
“We’re gonna get us all together later, right?”
“If ya don’t snore like you’re disposed ta, might think on it.”
Denmark kissed him again, and by the time they got out of bed, it was twilight.
“We’re still gonna make ‘em, aren’t we?”
---
They put their family together by moonlight, just the two of them, that year.
---
If Norway had known that Denmark would insist on it every single year, the very morning (though Denmark insisted it was afternoon) of the first big snowfall - he would've left the idiot out in the cold that first time.
Maybe.