Worth Waiting For [Finland/Sweden; Sealand, Åland]

[roesslyng]

Title: Worth Waiting For
Characters/Pairing: Finland/Sweden, Sealand, Åland
Rating: 10+
Length: 6217 words
Summary: Sweden decides to confess his love to Finland in a letter, but the letter gets lost in the mail. When he doesn't receive a response, Sweden thinks it's a rejection.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme (Original post)



Worth Waiting For

Sweden stared at the sheet of blank paper in front of him and twiddled a blue ballpoint pen between his fingers. He sighed heavily and looked over at the recycle bin full of balled-up attempts. All of them, every single one, were letters that he had started and stopped and edited and scribbled out. He had been working at it all night, and the bin was nearly to the point of overflowing, but still he hadn't made any progress. A troubled frown formed on his face as he returned his attention to the blank pad on his desk again.

Writing the letter shouldn't have been so difficult. It should have been simple. It was just a matter of saying what he felt, and saying it plainly enough that there would be no room for misinterpretation.

Sweden chewed his lower lip, put the pen to paper, and tried again.

Dear Finland--

Simple and friendly, intimate but not too close. A good way to start.

There shouldn't be any need to write him a letter in the first place, Sweden thought. It was as if he was trying to express his feelings on the subject for the millionth time. The problem was simply that words and gestures on their own did not work. Sweden knew full well that he wasn't good with words, worst of all when it came to talking about deep, intimate feelings; he had a tendency to concentrate on saying the right thing so much that by the time he knew the best way to actually say what he needed to say, it was too late to say it, so he said nothing. And when it came to things like gestures and touches and intimacy, anything he did was not always interpreted in the way that he had meant it to be - especially if the person doing the interpreting was Finland.

When it came to Finland, all things related to affection needed to be spelled out in the bluntest way possible, and that was exactly what Sweden intended to do - if he could find exactly the right words to say it.

He stared down at the paper. It still read "Dear Finland". The words themselves offered no suggestions as to how to continue.

The entire situation was ridiculous. Sweden straightened in his seat. Looked up at the ceiling. Looked down at the page again. For a moment he stared at it, then decided to try an entirely different method. Maybe it was best to just say it.

I love you.

He put the pen down. Somehow, it seemed as if he didn't need anything more than that, at least for the time being. It was enough to just get it out. He set the letter aside and resolved to turn in for the night. The most difficult part was over.


The next morning Sweden returned to his writing desk and added explanations, elaborations, justifications, and everything else that would be needed to clarify that bold, daring statement. After writing it out so clearly and blatantly the first time, the rest came more easily. Scribbling away with a cup of coffee by his hand, he tried his best to answer the questions that he knew would come as soon as Finland read it. It'd be better to give the answers without having to speak.

"But why?"

Because of the way you look when you say...

"Since when?"

I've felt this way for a long time. When I first met you, I...

"Why didn't you say it before?"

I tried to tell you, but I couldn't. The words wouldn't come out right, and I....

In the end Sweden had to close his eyes as he put the thick letter in the envelope. When he finally stepped outside to stuff it in the postbox, he stared at the opening for what felt like a full minute before he finally gathered the courage to actually put it inside. Then finally, it was done. There was no way to take it back, and there was nothing to do but wait.

"I didn't think people actually mail letters any more," Sealand said as they returned from the postbox and headed back through the narrow streets toward Sweden's home, bundled in winter clothing, the snow crunching under their feet. "Can't you just text each other?"

Sweden considered this for a moment. "The post's more personal," he said firmly.

"Oh." There was a long pause as Sealand thought about it. "What did you write to him?"

"Just a greetin'. Nothin' special." Except that it was special, and personal, and incredibly important.



For an entire week Sweden held his breath. He waited for the phone call that inevitably would come, with Finland's voice on the other end saying, "We need to talk" or "I need to see you; I'm coming over" or even "What do you mean, 'I love you'?" The call never came. By the second week, Sweden felt unsure of himself; by the third week, he was resigned. It was now clear how it would be. The thought hit him as he sat drinking coffee at breakfast with the newspaper spread out on the kitchen table. That was how it would be. It wasn't that Finland hadn't known the entire time; it was only that he hadn't felt the same way.

He set his mug down and sighed. Suddenly, all the moments over the years when Finland hadn't responded to his clumsy attempts at expressing the way he felt made complete sense in the light of that realization.

"What's wrong?"

Sweden looked up. Sealand had stopped eating his breakfast and sat watching him from across the table. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Nothin' much."

"Something much."

"Bad news," Sweden said, gesturing to the newspaper. In a way, it wasn't even a lie, even if the actual news he was talking about was far more personal than the current events. Either way, Sealand nodded and resumed his breakfast, apparently satisfied with that answer, and there were no more questions about the subject, much to Sweden's relief.



The next time Sweden saw Finland, he didn't say even one word about the letter. Finland, for his part, carried on with his usual chatter as if nothing had happened between them at all. The sight of him smiling made Sweden's insides twist.

"And how have you been?"

"'S..." The words caught in his throat. "'S fine. Not much goin' on these days."

"Great! You know, I was thinking the other day and I got this really great idea. If we could get ourselves a bunch of firecrackers, and...."

As he listened, Sweden realized, nothing had changed between them. Everything was just fine. Finland might not have felt the same way, but he still wanted him as a friend, and that was better than nothing at all.

But try as Sweden might, thinking positively didn't come easily. His chest felt painfully tight.

Time went on. Christmas came and went. Spring rolled by. Neither of them brought up the subject of the letter and Sweden's love confession. However, every time they parted ways, it was on good terms, and that suited them both very well. Still, every time he had to say goodbye to Finland, Sweden held his breath, wondering if this time, maybe, Finland might decide to say something about the letter he had sent.


"Sweden acts weird when he's around you."

As Sweden gathered his car keys from the kitchen table, he paused and listened. The words came from the entrance of the apartment, where Finland and Sealand stood drawing on their coats and shoes as they prepared to leave to catch the ferry to Helsinki.

"He's always weird," was Finland's cheerful reply. "I don't mind it."

"But he gets even quieter than usual when you're here. It's weird."

"Well, I don't know - that's just how he is. Anyway, where'd you put your hat? Oh, there it is - and zip up that coat, will you?"

"But it's not cold -"

"The snow's not gone just yet, and the air's still cold. Zip it, or I'll zip it for you."

They left the conversation at that. Sweden put the matter from his mind, took up his keys, and went to join them.

It did not take long to drive them down to the ferry, and even shorter still before the boat left. When Sweden returned to his apartment alone, stepping out of his shoes and shrugging off his coat, the rooms seemed unbearably empty.

Sweden sighed, made himself a coffee, then sat at the kitchen table and thought about what Finland had said.

"He's always weird. I don't mind."

Well, then. At least he didn't mind.


The arrangement was simple: Sealand spent much time living with Sweden, but occasionally would take time with Finland, usually a few days, or occasionally for more than a week. As for Finland, he was always happy to spend time with him, but always happy to give him back at the end of it, so the arrangement suited Finland very well - especially as he had his own charge to worry about: Åland.

When Sweden and Finland had discussed that particular visit, they had come to the decision that after Sealand's stay with Finland, he wouldn't be going back by himself; for a short while, Åland would go with him. The visit was on the condition that she would spend time with Finland - or rather, Finland and Sealand. It was, without a doubt, an attempt at bargaining with her, and one that had not gone as well as he had hoped. Finland had tried to persuade her to spend more time in Helsinki, but she would have none of it. Frowning, she had argued him down to a week, saying "I'll visit you during the week Sealand is there. No more than that." The unsaid 'Take it or leave it' had hung in the air, and after a time, Finland caved.

Though they had made the deal and agreed upon the terms, Finland still found himself uncertain she would uphold it. It was not entirely unlike Åland to say one thing and later change her mind. So, upon returning to his home with Sealand in tow, Finland was relieved to discover that Åland was already there, and had let herself in. A fresh pot of coffee had been put on to brew, though he suspected it was for her own benefit rather than a rare moment of consideration for him. Still, he smiled upon seeing her, and said brightly, "Well, we're here!"

Åland barely gave him a nod. Instead, she directed her attention to Sealand, asking how the boat ride over had been, and that it was good to see him - and of course, how was Sweden doing? No sooner had Sealand slipped out of his coat and shoes than the two of them headed into the kitchen, chattering away, leaving Finland alone in the entrance to the apartment.

Well, Finland thought as he unzipped his coat. How about that.

It would be inaccurate to say that he was surprised, even a little bit. He wasn't. Still, surprised or not, and even if he should have known better than to expect anything else, he was slightly - just slightly - disappointed.

"There's coffee," Åland said helpfully as Finland stepped into the kitchen. No 'hello', no 'It's good to see you again'.

"I can see that. Thank you." He poured himself a cup and let what she hadn't said roll off him. As he did it, he kept an eye on the kitchen table, where the two of them sat with their heads close together, talking quietly as if discussing something very important.

"What're you two talking about?"

Sealand looked up, offered him a wide smile, and said "We're just planning what we'll do when we get back!"

"But..." Ouch. "You just got here," Finland said, feeling a bit defeated. "How about you decide what you'd like to do when you're here? We could make it special," he added, trying to ignore the way Åland rolled her eyes. At least she was courteous enough to turn her head a bit so that he wouldn't fully see it.

"Yeah, that too."

"Great. You let me know when you've figured it out." He made his way to the living room, set his mug on the coffee table, and flopped on the sofa next to Hanatamago, who had been sleeping there. She opened and eye, wagged her tail, and scooted into his lap, seeking to be petted. Finland, of course, was happy to oblige.

"Well, you're happy to see me," he said as he scratched her behind the ear, speaking low enough that the kids wouldn't hear it. From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of Åland and Sealand laughing. Already, things were not exactly turning out how Finland had planned it.

Hanatamago looked up at him with an expression that seemed to ask, "Well, what did you expect?"

Finland was at a loss as to how to respond to that. He shouldn't have expected anything at all, yet he had. Where had he gone wrong?

Still, he thought. Even if it wasn't going the way he had hoped, it still wasn't so bad. The brief visit with Sweden when he had gone to retrieve Sealand had been nice. And seeing him again in a week when he would go to drop the two off was sure to be good, too. He had enjoyed seeing him; he always did, even if he wasn't the best nation in the world when it came to carrying on a conversation.

With that pleasant thought in his mind, Finland settled back with his coffee and listened to the sound of cheerful chatter in the next room.



Though the week had a rocky beginning, the following days ran smoothly. As Finland had guessed on the first evening, Åland was far more interested in talking to Sealand than to himself, no matter what kind of conversation Finland tried to initiate. And just as he should have expected, the topic frequently turned to Sweden, as Åland spoke excitedly about seeing him soon. Still. All in all, it was... satisfactory. It certainly could have gone far worse. Finland thought about it as he headed up the walkway, the kids following behind him and whispering between themselves as the three of them returning from an afternoon excursion. It wasn't really that bad at all.

"After we get the groceries inside, can I take Hanatamago for a walk?"

"Sure," was Finland's reply. "The mail will probably be here by the time you get back, so make sure you bring it in."

Soon the other two left, and he was alone again. It wasn't that bad, Finland repeated to himself as he put the groceries away alone in the kitchen. But it wasn't really what he had hoped for, and maybe he could even say that it wasn't really all that good, either. Åland had hardly looked at him before leaving. They had only been out for an afternoon running errands - had she already become sick of being around him?

"She was just distracted," Finland said to himself. That was it. She had been talking to Sealand about what route to take, and the dog had been barking with excitement at the prospect of going for walkies, and it all made perfect sense -- But.

Still.

Finland looked out the kitchen window and drummed his fingers on the counter. For a while, he thought about it, and eventually reached a decision.


There was only one way to go about it, he told himself as he put the coffee on. He would have a talk with Sweden about her at their next visit. Either Sweden would have an idea of how to handle the situation, and would give some insight into what he might do about her, or Finland would talk enough that he would reach a conclusion for himself by organizing his thoughts, while Sweden didn't say a single word, which could very well be how it would turn out.

The coffee finished brewing and Finland smiled. It would be nice to see him again so soon.



"Hey, look what came in the mail!" They breezed into the apartment, a whirlwind of energy and good cheer, the dog yapping and wagging its tail as it made its way over to Finland. Finland, for his part, did nothing except bend down to pat Hanatamago's head and clip off her leash while Sealand and Åland took off their coats.

"What is it?"

"A letter." Indeed, Sealand handed him a rather soggy envelope, one that looked as if it had been sitting in the snow for weeks. Finland took it carefully and turned it over, trying not to damage it.

"It must've fallen into the slush on the way here, somehow," he said, "I wonder when it was sent-"

"Around Christmas, I think," Åland nonchalantly interrupted as she put her scarf away. "Look close. 'S got special stamps on it."

Indeed, upon second look, there was no doubt about it - the stamp with a Christmas tree and presents left no question about that. "So it does." Finland tried to fight down the feeling of foolishness.

"You'll have to open it. I wonder who sent it," Sealand said as he stared at it, looking as if he was ready to snatch it away from him at any moment.

"Hmm, I can't read the return address, so I guess we'll find out later. It needs to dry out first."

There was a round of disappointed groans from Sealand - and perhaps, though Finland couldn't be sure, one from Åland as well. Then after a moment, they seemed to get the same idea all at once, and the both of them scrambled to the washroom to retrieve the hairdryer.

The kitchen was filled with coffee and a sense of eagerness all around as they waited for it to dry. As he went over the soggy envelope with a hairdryer, Finland couldn't help but be curious, though he hoped it wasn't anything important. But a personal letter like that wasn't likely to be anything much at all, and he prepared himself for disappointment. It was probably just some extremely belated Christmas well-wishes. He would call whoever sent it, and they would have a laugh over how late it had been in reaching him, he decided. That was all.

Finally, the envelope was dry enough to open it without damaging. He glanced up, caught Sealand and Åland watching him, then smiled. As he slipped it out of the envelope and unfolded it, he did it as slowly as he possibly could.

Dear Finland - I love you.

The opening lines stared him right in the face. Finland blinked, then read the sentence over again, just to be sure that the water-damaged ink hadn't caused him to misread it. But there was no question of it; that was exactly what it said. I love you.

He could feel two sets of eyes staring at him.

"Sooo, what's it say?" Sealand ventured impatiently. Åland, for her part, said nothing, and merely watched Finland suspiciously over the edge of her coffee cup.

"Oh! It's nothing much," Finland lied as he folded the letter back up. "The usual 'Merry Christmas, I hope we'll both have a good new year' kind of thing." He wished Åland would stop staring at him. Did she know?

"Oh. Boring. I don't want to read it, then." Sealand rolled his eyes, stretched, then grinned at Åland. "Well, what else should we do, huh?"

Finland sighed with relief. That was one explanation avoided.



It was not until the evening drew late that Finland had the chance to read the letter properly. With the "kids" in Sealand's room, playing video games before turning in for bed, it was easier to go over the letter properly, easier to read it without having to worry that his expression might give some clue as to its contents, easier to concentrate on what was being said, and easier to decide what should be done about it.

Finland leaned against the kitchen counter and read it once, twice, and then a third time. Then he sighed, set it down, and made his way to the sink to run the water to wash the dishes.

He hadn't known. Finland turned the opening line of the letter over and over in his head. All that time, and he hadn't had any idea. Well, maybe that wasn't exactly true. Over the years, he had guessed once or twice that there was something there, and at one time he had been sure that Sweden had felt something for him. But for Sweden to feel that way after so much time? He hadn't had any idea.

The water stung his hands, and he realized that in his thinking he had left it to run hot.

As he turned the tap off, the sound of someone walking quietly into the kitchen reached him. Finland tensed and turned his head.

It was Åland.

She looked from him to the letter on the counter, then without a word picked it up, unfolded it, and started reading. For a moment Finland wondered if he should try to stop her. Instead, he just turned back to the dishes and said, "That stuff's private, you know."

"I know," she replied. Then she folded it back up and slipped it into the envelope.

"But why did you read it, then?"

"Just had to know." She took up a dishtowel and went to stand beside him, drying dishes as he set them aside.

For a while they stood and worked in awkward silence. In the dim light, the kitchen seemed cold. Finland found himself unsure what to say. Åland was difficult to talk to at the best of times, but this was - different.

Maybe it was best not to ask, then.

"Did you know?" she said.

Or maybe not. "Know what?"

"That he felt that way." She was looking at him, frowning, her eyes narrowed a bit.

When she was serious she looked a bit like Sweden, Finland thought, but nowhere near as intimidating. He considered carefully how to respond, scrubbing and delaying, but finally settled for shaking his head. "No. I didn't. I guess I just.... Well. I didn't."

"Hmm." She wrung the dishtowel in her hands, fidgeting and biting her lip and looking as if she wanted to give him a piece of her mind, though she seemed to understand that it wasn't the time for it. "I don't get how you couldn't know. I knew. I bet everybody knows."

Finland could feel his ears heating with embarrassment. "But, look here, he never said anything -"

"Yeah, but he did everything else except say it."

She was glaring at him, and Finland was at a loss for what to say. Nothing he said would be the "right" thing, regardless. "I just didn't know, okay? I didn't know."

Åland frowned and looked away again, pursing her lips as she stacked the dishes. "Okay."

There was an uncomfortable pause, and neither of them wanted to say anything, though something needed to be said. It hung thick in the air, made worse by the click-click-click of dishes being stacked on top of one another.

"So," Finland began. "I, um -"

"What're you going to do about it?"

"I'll think of something." Finland said it cheerfully, smiling for emphasis as he ignored the interruption. He drained the sink and tried to ignore the feeling of her staring at him. Maybe he could convince himself that he would be able to come up with something, even if Åland didn't believe it.



Later that night, Finland read the letter over again as he rested in bed. He read it once, then a second time, just to be sure. He felt as if he had folded and unfolded the sheet of paper a hundred times by that point; he almost had the words memorized. Still, he read them over again. Just one more time. Just to be sure.

I love you.

He hadn't known at all. Or, he reminded himself, he had thought he hadn't.

When I first met you, I...

Had Sweden really felt that way for so long? Finland's brow furrowed as he puzzled over the statement. It seemed impossible, but there it was.

I tried to tell you, but I couldn't.

Why?

The words wouldn't come out right, and I was afraid you didn't feel the same way.

Finland stared at the sentence, read it over again, then folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. Then he turned off the bedside lamp and rested back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Sweden really felt that he didn't feel the same way? Really?

It looked as if all that time, they really hadn't understood one another at all.

As he drifted off to sleep, Finland made the decision. He and Sweden were overdue for a long, long talk.



The final days of the visit seemed to crawl, and Finland knew the exact reason for it; everyone was itching to get out, to go back to Stockholm to visit Sweden. Sealand wanted to be home again, of course, and Eland's eagerness to visit with him too was almost overflowing. As for himself, Finland could hardly wait to have a moment to sit Sweden down for a private talk.

It was a talk that they had needed to have for a long, long time, and he hadn't even realized it.

Finland smiled as he packed his bag to prepare for the trip. To think, Sweden hadn't known the way he felt after all that time -- well. It didn't matter.

They would be on their way the next morning, and once he got there, he would set everything straight.



Every minute of the slow ferry ride to Stockholm was agonizing, and it was a relief when the three of them were back on dry land. Just as expected, Sweden had come to greet them. He nodded in greeting upon seeing Finland, and then raised an eyebrow at the sight of his larger-than-expected travelling bag before being tackled by hugs from both Sealand and Åland.

"Nice to see you again!" Finland said, grinning as he watched him embrace them. "I was thinking of staying more than just for one night. Some business came up that I think you should know about. Is that okay with you?"

"I see," Sweden rumbled, barely intelligible over Sealand, who seemed determined to drown him out with chattering. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Great. We can talk it over later, okay?"

The response he received was a nod and that slightly awkward change of expression which passed as a smile from Sweden, but would be a grin on anyone else. With the issue settled, the four of them headed out of the ferry station to the parking lot.



The drive was uneventful, and while Finland had expected to notice some awkwardness in the way Sweden acted toward him, he found that there was no more than usual. Somehow, that made Finland grow more confident. He knew exactly how he would approach Sweden about their little problem, which wasn't really a problem at all. Still, in spite of that confidence, throughout the drive he simply couldn't sit still, his hands fidgeting and his foot tap-tap-tapping at every free moment. He knew that it was just because of anticipation, and that he wasn't really nervous at all, but he repeated what he had decided to say over in his head just to be sure.

All evening, things went as they usually would. They arrived at Sweden's apartment, and had supper at the usual time, and spent the evening afterward in the kitchen, drinking coffee and washing dishes and laughing at what Sealand and Åland had to say about the trip over. Still, Finland was distracted, and more than once, Sealand would ask him a question, only to have to repeat it when it flew over Finland's head.

"Finland? Hey, Finland?"

"Hmm?"

"Hey, you didn't hear me!"

Finland blinked and looked up. Sealand was looking at him with an impatient expression. Sweden opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it, and looked away. Åland was staring at him over the edge of her coffee cup again with a knowing expression on her face.

Damn it. He'd done it again.

Finland laughed and brushed the issue aside as he brushed his hair out of his face. "I was just thinking about something," he said as he reached for his coffee mug.

"But you weren't listening," Sealand insisted.

"Sorry; I'm just tired. We got up early today." He smiled and downed the dregs of his coffee, as if somehow the gesture would show that it was nothing.



Later in the evening, when they had all migrated to the living room, Finland found himself unable to stay patient for any longer. The letter was burning a hole in his pocket and he couldn't keep himself from fidgeting. All day, he had been waiting for a chance to have a talk with Sweden, and he still wasn't alone with him.

After some repeated "Psst!" noises and a few significant looks, he got Åland's attention. She gave him a confused look, but after he carefully nodded toward the hallway, she understood the message.

"Sealand, didn't you say you had a new game you wanted to play with me?" she said. The response was an enthusiastic 'yes' and soon the two were scrambling out. Finland mouthed "thanks" to Åland as she passed him.

Finally, he and Sweden were alone.

For a while they sat in silence on the sofa, side by side but not close enough to touch. Just as Finland opened his mouth to try to say what he had wanted to all night, Sweden spoke. "'M glad ya' decided to stay longer," he murmured.

Finland drained his coffee mug, set it on the coffee table, and rested back. Well, that was an opening if he had ever heard one. "I am too," he said. "Uh, about what I mentioned earlier today -"

"Mmm?"

"I mean about having to talk to you about something." Finland hesitated, groped for the words, then gave up on saying it and instead pulled the letter out of his pocket. The piece of paper looked as it if had been through the wringer, what with how battered and folded and re-creased it was. He held it up and looked expectantly at Sweden, whose gaze was set right on the paper in his hand. His forehead was creased, and he had that look he always got when he was trying to think of something to day.

If I let him start, Finland thought, we'll be here all night. It would be better to push him along a bit. "I didn't know you felt this way."

He let it hang there. Neither of them spoke. The silence was thick as pea soup and Finland found himself wishing that Sweden would say something. Anything, really. At least repeat what you wrote in the letter, he thought. It would be nice to actually hear it.

"Sorry," Sweden mumbled, dropping his gaze to his hands.

That wasn't exactly the response Finland had been looking for. "What? No. You don't have to be sorry," he protested. Not satisfied with that, he edged closer and took Sweden's hand and squeezed it, inviting him to look at him. When he did, Finland offered him a smile. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about! I didn't say that I minded."

"But ya' didn't..." Sweden paused, drew in a deep breath, then seemed to find the words again. "Reply. Or say anything."

"It got lost in the mail. Well, I mean, I didn't receive it until a few days ago. Come on, Sweden; you know me. I would've said something about it, even if I didn't like you the same way. I really would."

Sweden didn't reply. He looked down at their hands, as if he needed to pause in order to decide how to digest that information. After a moment, Sweden put his hand atop Finland's own, and held it tight. "So. 'S not that ya' didn't care."

"No." Finland smiled again. "It's not like that at all." Laughing, he moved closer to Sweden and put his arms around him. "It's the opposite. It's the exact opposite."



For the rest of the evening, Finland felt almost as if time had slowed down, and he was glad for it. They stayed talking together, with their heads bent close together, their words quiet as they talked over everything that they should have said years ago, but hadn't.

"So ya' didn't know..."

"No. I didn't. I would've said something if I had."

"... Oh?"

"Because I like you too. That way, I mean. I like you a lot."

"Really."

"Yes! For a long time. I just didn't think you felt the same way."

Sweden pulled back a bit and gave Finland a good hard stare. "Why not?"

Finland considered it, then shrugged and smiled sheepishly at him. "...Well, you never said so."

There was little Sweden could say in response to that. He looked as if he wanted to say it, but was unsure how, or even what to say exactly. Eventually, he mumbled, "Well... Said it now."

"Yeah. You have." Finland looked down for a moment, thought carefully, and came to a decision. He pressed close, and before Sweden could say anything, tilted his head up and kissed him lightly.

Sweden tensed, blushed, and then returned it, much to Finland's relief. After a moment they parted, and as Finland drew away, he realized that Sweden was smiling. At that, Finland couldn't help but latch onto him and grin so hard that his cheeks hurt. This, he decided, was worth the wait.



They went down the hallway together that night.

Normally, Finland would have made his way to the guest room, but this time he did not. He looked at Sweden, then looked toward Sweden's bedroom door. It seemed as if his face asked the question that he wasn't sure how to voice, because Sweden took his hand as if in understanding, squeezed it, and then led him inside. The answer, of course, was "yes".



The next morning they decided to sleep in. When he did finally wake, Finland rolled onto his side to look at Sweden, who dozed next to him. Finland curled closer to his large frame and smiled to himself. It was strange to think that it had taken so long for the both of them to realize what now, looking back, seemed so obvious. But even if things would be a bit different, they wouldn't really change much. It was a comforting thought.

"Good morning," he said when Sweden opened his eyes.

Sweden blinked at him blearily, as if unable to really believe that there was someone else in his bed. "'Mornin," he mumbled.

"Sleep well?"

"Mm..."

From the kitchen could be heard the sound of the radio playing and someone talking. The scent of coffee made its way down the hall and under the bedroom door, and it was tempting enough that they decided not to linger under the sheets too long. When they finally dressed and headed to the kitchen, they found that Sealand and Åland had begun making breakfast.

"Good morning! We were gonna' go wake you up but Åland said that we should let you sleep," Sealand said in greeting as he looked up from the eggs he was cooking.

"I'm glad. We needed it." Finland looked at Åland, who had begun pouring them both coffee, and wondered if she knew about the discussion they'd had the previous night.

She didn't look at him; simply continued to pour the coffee as she replied, "Thought so", then looked up at Sweden as she handed him one of the mugs. "You were up late, weren't you?"

Instead of speaking when he took the coffee from her, Sweden simply nodded, then looked away, his ears flushing a bit pink at the question.

Finland held back a smile. "We had some things we needed to talk about," he said mildly as he took his own mug from Åland. As cute as Sweden was when he was flustered, he knew it would just upset him if anybody happened to notice.

"Oh?" A curious tone from Sealand told Finland that he had been successful in the distraction.

"Yep. But it was boring stuff, mostly! Now, how about that breakfast?"

In time, they settled down to it. As they ate and talked, Finland kept glancing at Sweden, trying to meet his eyes. They were bright and warm, and smiling even if the rest of him wasn't, and saying what he couldn't actually say. It was strange that he hadn't noticed it all along, Finland thought.

He grinned, then took another mouthful of coffee. He could feel the letter in his pocket, and knew that it didn't matter that he hadn't known the way Sweden felt before.

Now, he knew it.

All of it.

The End.