![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Salmon Rolls [Denmark and Sweden; Sweden -> Finland]
Title: Salmon Rolls
Characters/Pairing: Denmark and Sweden. References to Sweden->Finland.
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 950
Summary: Denmark gives Sweden some badly-needed relationship advice.
Other: This is meant to be a companion fic to Worth Waiting For; the letter Sweden sent in that story is referred to here.
Salmon Rolls
The restaurant clattered with sound: music playing just under the rise and fall of voices. Talking. Occasional laughter. Nice.
"So, like I was sayin'," Denmark said as he plucked another salmon roll from the platter, "ya' can't go expecting him to figure it out on his ownsome. Have to take some initiative, here."
He stuffed his face with it and waited. Across from him, the look on Sweden's face was somewhere between 'kicked puppy' and 'emotionally constipated', and Denmark knew damn well that it wasn't on account of lunch being disappointing, because even if the company wasn't so hot, the food was delicious.
"Already did," Sweden mumbled eventually, not looking quite at him, staring instead at their shared sushi plate.
Come on, Denmark thought, doing his damn hardest to hold back the exasperated sigh he wanted to let out. Don't pull that shit with me. "Like what?" He grinned. "Did you tell 'im?" He'd get an answer out of the guy, even if he had to drag it out of him.
"Sent a letter."
"And?"
"Didn't say nothin'."
Huh. Well. That was unexpected. "Here," Denmark said, plucking a few spicy rolls from the plate and putting them neatly on the other side of it. "Trade you for some of those egg doohickys. Anyway, I wouldn't take it like a 'no', if I was you. Maybe he's shy!"
Sweden's brows furrowed, and he gave a look that Denmark had seen a million times: the look that told him he'd said something stupid. "Shy," he repeated. "Finland?" Shook his head. "Don't think so."
"Sure, sounds a little far-fetched, but ya' never know." Denmark shrugged. "Maybe he's one've those guys who get all twitterpatted about that stuff." Like somebody else I know, he thought. Somebody who's sitting right across from me.
Sweden gave a noncommittal grunt that sounded sort of like "Maybe," but you never could tell with him. They went back to their lunch and Denmark took the opportunity to relieve Sweden of his egg doohickys. For a while, they ate without saying anything much, aside from the occasional mumble about how this stuff wasn't half bad, was it, could do with doing it again sometime, having lunch together like this, those salmon thingies were the best ones, right?
Denmark watched Sweden throughout it. Well, it wasn't like he stared at the guy, that'd be a little weird, but he couldn't help glancing at his face every now and then, just to be sure. It looked like he was thinking about it. Good.
"So are you gonna' tell him?" he pressed. The look that Sweden shot him in return made Denmark want to kick him under the table.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Damn it. That wasn't what he was going for. Time to try a new strategy. He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and grinned. "Bet ya' can't."
Aha! There it was - the blush and the stubborn, irritated, familiar clenching of the jaw. That was exactly what he'd been looking for. "Can too."
"That so!" Careful there, Denmark thought. Got to poke him just right, here. Getting him worked up enough to fall for it is one thing, but get him pissed and the whole show's over. "Gonna' have to prove it."
"Hmph." Sweden looked like he was about to kick him under the table. "Don't have to."
"I'll tell him myself."
"Ya wouldn't."
"Would." This is getting nowhere, Denmark thought. He sighed, then reached for his tea. "Fer crissake, what're you scared of? He'll say yes. He likes you."
There was a long pause. "'N if he doesn't?"
"Then it won't be the end of the world. But that don't matter. He'll say yes."
Sweden stared at Denmark, and Denmark stared at Sweden, and in the back of his mind Denmark had a sliver of doubt. If I'm wrong about this, he thought, I'll never live the damn thing down.
...Nah. It was a sure thing. Every nation on the planet knew how those two were, and the only reason they hadn't got themselves together was because Sweden sucked at putting his feelings into words and Finland was oblivious.
And maybe some other stuff, too.
Regardless, hearing that it would be all right looked like it helped Sweden, somehow. Not that he said it, exactly. He slumped in his seat a little, as if making a concession, then frowned as a concentrating sort of look appeared on his face, like he was trying to think but nothing was happening. Then, finally, he gave a resigned, "Okay."
Better than nothing. Denmark let out a laugh, reached over, and patted him on the shoulder. "Great! Now, it'll be fine. Just you wait and see."
As they stepped out of the sushi joint and into the crisp air, neither of them said much. Sweden was his usual self, silent, his eyes slightly narrowed - you'd think that he'd get sick of squinting wherever he went like that, but maybe the glasses didn't actually do him a lick of good - and as for Denmark, he kept his trap shut for once.
At least, for a couple of minutes.
"Hey," he said, giving his brother a nudge. "You are gonna tell him, right?"
"... Nnh."
"Right?"
For a moment or two, there was nothing except the sound of their shoes on the sidewalk, the chatter of people passing, the low murmur of vehicles and as every second passed Denmark felt more and more ready to punch him. Maybe it'd knock some sense into the guy. Then, lowly, he heard Sweden mutter something.
"Yeah."
"Atta' boy."
Denmark grinned. Good enough. If he stuck to his word, anyway - that'd be good enough.
Characters/Pairing: Denmark and Sweden. References to Sweden->Finland.
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 950
Summary: Denmark gives Sweden some badly-needed relationship advice.
Other: This is meant to be a companion fic to Worth Waiting For; the letter Sweden sent in that story is referred to here.
Salmon Rolls
The restaurant clattered with sound: music playing just under the rise and fall of voices. Talking. Occasional laughter. Nice.
"So, like I was sayin'," Denmark said as he plucked another salmon roll from the platter, "ya' can't go expecting him to figure it out on his ownsome. Have to take some initiative, here."
He stuffed his face with it and waited. Across from him, the look on Sweden's face was somewhere between 'kicked puppy' and 'emotionally constipated', and Denmark knew damn well that it wasn't on account of lunch being disappointing, because even if the company wasn't so hot, the food was delicious.
"Already did," Sweden mumbled eventually, not looking quite at him, staring instead at their shared sushi plate.
Come on, Denmark thought, doing his damn hardest to hold back the exasperated sigh he wanted to let out. Don't pull that shit with me. "Like what?" He grinned. "Did you tell 'im?" He'd get an answer out of the guy, even if he had to drag it out of him.
"Sent a letter."
"And?"
"Didn't say nothin'."
Huh. Well. That was unexpected. "Here," Denmark said, plucking a few spicy rolls from the plate and putting them neatly on the other side of it. "Trade you for some of those egg doohickys. Anyway, I wouldn't take it like a 'no', if I was you. Maybe he's shy!"
Sweden's brows furrowed, and he gave a look that Denmark had seen a million times: the look that told him he'd said something stupid. "Shy," he repeated. "Finland?" Shook his head. "Don't think so."
"Sure, sounds a little far-fetched, but ya' never know." Denmark shrugged. "Maybe he's one've those guys who get all twitterpatted about that stuff." Like somebody else I know, he thought. Somebody who's sitting right across from me.
Sweden gave a noncommittal grunt that sounded sort of like "Maybe," but you never could tell with him. They went back to their lunch and Denmark took the opportunity to relieve Sweden of his egg doohickys. For a while, they ate without saying anything much, aside from the occasional mumble about how this stuff wasn't half bad, was it, could do with doing it again sometime, having lunch together like this, those salmon thingies were the best ones, right?
Denmark watched Sweden throughout it. Well, it wasn't like he stared at the guy, that'd be a little weird, but he couldn't help glancing at his face every now and then, just to be sure. It looked like he was thinking about it. Good.
"So are you gonna' tell him?" he pressed. The look that Sweden shot him in return made Denmark want to kick him under the table.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Damn it. That wasn't what he was going for. Time to try a new strategy. He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and grinned. "Bet ya' can't."
Aha! There it was - the blush and the stubborn, irritated, familiar clenching of the jaw. That was exactly what he'd been looking for. "Can too."
"That so!" Careful there, Denmark thought. Got to poke him just right, here. Getting him worked up enough to fall for it is one thing, but get him pissed and the whole show's over. "Gonna' have to prove it."
"Hmph." Sweden looked like he was about to kick him under the table. "Don't have to."
"I'll tell him myself."
"Ya wouldn't."
"Would." This is getting nowhere, Denmark thought. He sighed, then reached for his tea. "Fer crissake, what're you scared of? He'll say yes. He likes you."
There was a long pause. "'N if he doesn't?"
"Then it won't be the end of the world. But that don't matter. He'll say yes."
Sweden stared at Denmark, and Denmark stared at Sweden, and in the back of his mind Denmark had a sliver of doubt. If I'm wrong about this, he thought, I'll never live the damn thing down.
...Nah. It was a sure thing. Every nation on the planet knew how those two were, and the only reason they hadn't got themselves together was because Sweden sucked at putting his feelings into words and Finland was oblivious.
And maybe some other stuff, too.
Regardless, hearing that it would be all right looked like it helped Sweden, somehow. Not that he said it, exactly. He slumped in his seat a little, as if making a concession, then frowned as a concentrating sort of look appeared on his face, like he was trying to think but nothing was happening. Then, finally, he gave a resigned, "Okay."
Better than nothing. Denmark let out a laugh, reached over, and patted him on the shoulder. "Great! Now, it'll be fine. Just you wait and see."
As they stepped out of the sushi joint and into the crisp air, neither of them said much. Sweden was his usual self, silent, his eyes slightly narrowed - you'd think that he'd get sick of squinting wherever he went like that, but maybe the glasses didn't actually do him a lick of good - and as for Denmark, he kept his trap shut for once.
At least, for a couple of minutes.
"Hey," he said, giving his brother a nudge. "You are gonna tell him, right?"
"... Nnh."
"Right?"
For a moment or two, there was nothing except the sound of their shoes on the sidewalk, the chatter of people passing, the low murmur of vehicles and as every second passed Denmark felt more and more ready to punch him. Maybe it'd knock some sense into the guy. Then, lowly, he heard Sweden mutter something.
"Yeah."
"Atta' boy."
Denmark grinned. Good enough. If he stuck to his word, anyway - that'd be good enough.
no subject
It sucks that no one is commenting on this fanfiction. I really enjoy it and I smiled a lot from the fanfiction after such a bad day for me.
(no subject)