After watching that special episode of Hetalia and going all "Aw, he's so sweet!" when Iceland called Norway big brother (fan girl pause: Aw! It still warms me up inside just thinking about it!) I decided to write this. Enjoy if you must! None of the Hetalia characters are mine, by the way…

Iceland stepped onto the high balcony, closing the glass double-doors behind himself to drown out the annoying drone of the other Nordics and walking towards the cold, white marble rail to lean on it. It was another mandated weekly meeting where the Nordic nations were supposed to utilize the time to discuss and find solutions to the European economic downturn, but what do those morons do? They let themselves, including Mr. Puffin, become influenced by the biggest idiot of them all- Denmark- and be persuaded into having a beer party. Now they were all drunk out of their wit, arguing, laughing, fist-fighting, rumor-spreading; it became so disorderly that Iceland didn't even know who was doing what or what kinds of conversations they were having. He didn't even think that they were doing things that related to each other, but he knew that it had nothing to do with the economy that he has hoped to discuss.

He sighed deeply and looked down at the garden below the balcony, the early snowpour coating every plant and garden decoration in a seemingly even finish. Iceland's breath was taken away at the sight of the moon's light dancing on the snow, sending out an orchestra of white and light-blue twinkles like they used to back when he was a young, imaginative child all those centuries ago. The view was so captivating and nostalgic that he didn't notice that he was waving his hands about, beaming like a content child as he pretended to be a composer for those stunning snowflakes, directing which snowflake sparkled their version of the moon's radiance and when. He even hummed a song to it, a slow, peaceful song that was still loud enough to drown out any footsteps of a person that might have the audacity to sneak up on him, a song that made him unaware of another's presence until he heard a voice purr in his ear, "What are you doing?"

Iceland jumped and made a high-pitched shriek of surprise. He quickly turned around to find his inebriated older brother, Norway, behind him with a drunk and possibly-sleeping Mr. Puffin perched on his shoulder. Norway was slouching forward slightly and swaying just a tad, almost as if he was ready to collapse and black out from the alcohol. Judging from the hot pink tint of his cheeks, Iceland was sure that that was going to happen. He crossed his arms and glared at the poor excuse for a nation-man, and an even poorer excuse for an older brother.

"H-Hey, noooooow!" Norway drawled. "Don't g-give me that mean pout…pout of yours! It's so-" He smiled and giggled. "It's so cute!"

Iceland felt his face twist into a harder glare. "What do you want, you freak?"

Norway came closer to Iceland until he was practically hanging onto him, slouching over his back and squeezing his shoulders in a bad attempt of a hug. "I wanted to shee where'dya run off to, little brother," he breathed in that disgusting beer-laden breath of his. "But I saw that you were composin' music for the pwetty little winter night! Heh heh, I didn't know you were still doing that. You always liked doing that as a youngsta." Norway looked out into the garden with a dreamy, calm expression, as if he was reminiscing of a memory of long ago. "You just loved the pwetty snow…"

Iceland fought Norway's body until he shoved Norway away completely. "First of all, Lukas, don't call me 'little buddy'," he stressed as he straightened out his sweater. "Second, I was just bored, so don't get all 'oh, the fond memories' on me, alright? Third, what is that you be wanting from me? Tell me so that you can leave me alone to my peace again!" He turned back to the openness of the garden beyond the balcony, retaining as much of his draining patience as possible, the patience that wore thin after about thirty minutes of the "meeting."

Norway frowned gloomily at Iceland's back before standing besides him at the rail, looking out at the wintry blanket with him. He was swaying unsteadily in his spot, his eyelids fluttering in a fight to both keep him awake and let him pass out in the icy air. He sighed deeply and watch as his breath condense into a mist that flew into the air, disappearing in nanoseconds.

A few moments of silence passed before Norway finally spoke. "Remember long ago, Iceland? Long ago when you called me 'big brother' so lovingly?"

Iceland felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. "Yeah, what about it?"

"And that time when you gave us the fraternity results and got to call me 'big brother' all over again?"

Iceland scoffed at Norway's word choice. He didn't "get to" call Norway "big brother"; he was forced to use that dumb ass title on Norway even though he wasn't a cute little kid anymore. "Yeah, it was about three months ago. So what is this about?"

Norway looked up at the moon, observing the blue luminescence of the lunar rock before asking, "Do you remember those cute little words you would add to 'big brother'? The thing you used to say to me in gratitude whenever I gave you treats or sat through your winter snow orchestras?"

Iceland's eyes widened before he looked away and wrung his hands together in embarrassment. "Y-Yeah? So, what?" He felt his face turn red, but when realization struck him, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and his jaw flipped open and shut to form the right words for his protest. "N-no way! Nuh-uh!"

"I want you to say it," Norway practically purred as he leaned closer to Iceland's face, giving Iceland another unwanted whiff of his many beer pints. "Right here, right now, while no one else is here to watch or listen to make it harder for you. Say it."

"Feh, like hell, I will!" Iceland snapped as he stepped back.

"C'mon? What wrong? Nobody's here to see, my sweet little bubby! Oh, it's because I didn't give you a treat, isn't it?" Norway dug through his pocket and brought out a lollipop. He waved it under Iceland's nose. "Will you say it, now?"

Iceland smacked the candy out of Norway's hand. "I don't want to say it, dammit! I won't say it for some stupid piece of candy and I won't say it because I'm an adult now! Respect me as such, will you?!"

"Aw? Pweeeeease?" Norway said as he inched closer to Iceland.

"No!"

"Pwease?"

"No!"

"Pwetty pwease?"

"No, you idiot!"

"Pwettiest pwease with sugar on top?"

"Hell to the no, you buffoon!"

"Aw, c'mon, now! Don't be such a bothersome tsundere!"

"What the heck does that even mean?!"

At this point, Norway was draping himself all over Iceland's back again, holding Iceland so tightly from behind that he wasn't able to move his arms. Iceland struggled against his hold, swearing and protesting loudly over Norway's pleas and list of bribes until he was able to wrestle free. He wrenched Norway's arms off of his torso and stepped far back, panting heavily and scrunching his eyebrows in the angriest position he ever made. "You listen to me, you big jackass!" He nearly shouted. "You are taking this 'big brother' bullshit too far! You're completely obsessed with it! You need to stop this stupid thing and move on with your damn life, because I'm really getting sick of sating your need to be older brother all the time! It's not healthy! I'm an adult and you need to let go! Because I'm not saying that stupid thing, anymore!"

Norway stood in momentary shock, the weight of Iceland's declaration not yet fully set on him until a few seconds later. He threw up his hands and shrugged dismally. "Alright, I can see that you don't like it, so I won't force it on you, anymore." He turned towards the double doors. "I'm going to bed; have a good rest of your night, little brother…"

As Norway made his way to the doors, Iceland said in what he hoped was a hushed volume, "Good night, big brother, I-"

Norway was at the door, his hands on the elegant silver knobs. His ears perked up at Iceland's voice, especially at the last bit he was trying to force out.

"I- uh, I love you…big brother…." Iceland spat out, squeezing his eyes shut and silently cursing himself and Norway. He felt the heat of humilation rise to every inch of his face. If he wasn't so mature, he'd probably cry of embarrassment, too.

Norway's mouth pulled up into a satisfied smirk. He looked at the back of Iceland's head, quickly taking in how his hands were clenched up in shaking fists. "See, was that so hard, little one?"

"Dammit, just get to the leaving, already!" Iceland spat childishly. He didn't relax until he heard Norway's footsteps and drunken giggles of delight (a really silly, pathetic sound, Iceland thought) exit the balcony.

When he was alone again, Iceland went back to leaning on the marble rail, looking up at the full moon. He pushed back his bangs from his eyes to get a clearer look as well as pushed down this feeling of euphoric nostalgia that threatened to swell his heart. He hated saying "I love you, big brother" to Norway; he just hated it…

Yay, I finally got it done just after 4 o'clock in the morning! *stifled yawn* I couldn't sleep, and this story was just begging to exist, so I plopped on my butt at the laptop and wrote it. I called it "The Act of Fraternal Tsundere," because it was love, and denial of said love, but not in a romantic way. And if you noticed how strange some of Iceland's lines were, it was because I was trying to capture his strange English-dub speech pattern. Hope you liked it!