Living with Norway was a strange situation to be in. One moment the Norwegian would be grouchy, the next he'd be purring like a kitten and yowling for attention. Some mornings Denmark found himself on the floor, victim to Norway's bed-hoggish antics. Others, he'd wake up to find the Norseman had caused them to be a tangled mess of limbs, the pair ending up in a new position nearly every morning. Yet here they were, Lukas clothed in Mathias only clean shirt. Mathias would have been happy to bicker about this any other day. But even he knew they had responsibilities as nations. At this rate, no matter what happened, they pair were going to be late.
"Lukas, we're already going to be late. Just give me my shirt." The red button up was almost like a dress on the smaller male. Denmark couldn't deny, he liked seeing Norge like that. But what little patience he had was wearing thin. Norway wasn't even responding to him. He just sat on their bed, legs crossed as he watched Denmark. But that teasing, playful glint in his lilac eyes was evident. Finally, Denmark gave up. Striding over to Lukas, he lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder. He caught the soft squeak that Norway let out.
"Shirt or not, we're going to the meeting." Shifting Norway's position on his shoulder, Mathias quickly grabbed the neatly folded bundle of Lukas' clothes.
The car ride to the meeting was completely silent. About a half hour into the drive, the chattering on Lukas' teeth become loud enough to be heard. Cerulean eyes sent a worried glance his way.
"Norge, you're gonna get sick. Please, put on some clothes," He reached back, pulling the Dane's large coat onto his lap. "I-I guess that works." A half hour more and they reached the city. It was just about the time when everybody's on the road, but you're not quite sure why because everyone should already be at work. The Nordic nations arrived an hour late. Norway's stubbornness having yet gone away, Denmark once more slung him over his shoulders. Denmark didn't hesitate as he rushed through the building, earning odd looks from staff and maybe even a whistle or two. Gods damn you, Norway. Pushing passed the double doors of the meeting, silence fell almost instantaneously. A loud crash sounded, and soon laughter filled the room from the less serious nations.
"He's...not a morning person." Denmark slowly grew red, awkwardly making his way to their fellow Nordics. Emil had his face in his hands, face a worrisome shade of red. Berwald had apparently fallen out of his chair, and was openly laughing. And Finland was caught in between helping Berwald, and clothing Denmark. Slipping Norway from his shoulder, Denmark sat the Norwegian into his seat before slipping into his own. Looking up, most eyes were still watching the eccentric pair.
"Please, do continue."