Oh look, something not SuFin! Anyway, here's first chap. of a fic I got inspired to write by Pink's "Leave me alone (I'm lonely)". I think it fits Denmark and Norway, and I hope this brings out why. If not... well, damn.

Thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters in it, nor do I own the song or lyrics. This is done for my sake and the fandom.

It was always the same. Whenever Denmark was over, he would be clinging to Norway as if his life depended on it. Norway, of course, was sick and tired of it and even if he told this to Denmark more than twice an hour, it made no difference. The Dane was as obnoxious, loud, bothersome and, first of all, clingy as always. It annoyed the hell out of Norway. He had shouted at Denmark several times, and even though they had yet to have their first real argument, the kind that had them sleeping in separate houses, it was so close every time.

They both knew that it only took one wrong word from Denmark before that happened. And what would then follow? Only God could know.

One thing everyone seemed to misunderstand about Norway, though, was that he didn't mind Denmark's company. Or, he wouldn't have, if Denmark would just let him be alone for more than an hour a day. If Denmark would just give him a day or a weekend off, then Norway wouldn't be so sour and pissed all the time. Yes, Norway liked Denmark, he had said that a few times already. It wasn't obvious with the way he treated him but he did. He didn't want it to be too obvious. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about loving Denmark – not that much – but it was… odd for him to be in a relationship with another man.

Norway had never really pictured himself in a relationship, and not at all with a man.

But even if Denmark was annoying, clingy and affectionate about 85 % of the time they spent together, he had his good sides. Not that Norway would ever admit this, especially not if there were others around. If he had to, he would say something like "… He's alright when he's asleep." Whereupon people would maybe laugh, chuckle or say that Norway should be nice.

It was the same now. Norway was getting seriously fed up with Denmark's aggravating behaviour as he sat beside him, drank beer and watched some absolutely ridiculously bad TV-show. Norway had of course wanted to change the channel but Denmark had made the classical trick of hiding the remote control in his pants. A place where Norway indeed didn't want to search for a long and hard object. Therefore, the bad show continued.

Denmark was one of those persons who didn't get drunk on beer. He could drink seemingly endless amounts of the golden brown liquid without becoming tipsy. The only thing that happened was that he became even more outgoing and social and clingy and affectionate.

You would think that was impossible.

It wasn't.

When the show ended and five empty cans of Danish beer decorated the coffee table, the Dane was halfway lying on Norway, halfway beside him, resting his head on the clearly annoyed Norwegian's.

"Hey hey, Norge, whatcha wanna do now?" he asked in an excited tone, as if he hadn't just been killing nearly an hour with watching a show about two girls fighting over a man.

"I want to watch something with actual value," he muttered and pushed the other man off of him. "Which doesn't include you," he added when he saw Denmark's smirk and wriggling eyebrows.

"Aaw, don't be such a prude," Denmark said and the smirk faded into a fake pout. "I'm not giving you the remote control if you aren't being nice to me."

"I can change channel on the TV."

"But do you honestly want to move that faaar?"

But just as Norway was about to do that – whether it was to prove a point to Denmark, or if it was actually to change the channel, or if it was a combination of both – Denmark caught him around the waist, effectively trapping him.

He was grinning widely, the smile reaching from ear to ear as his hands locked around the Norwegian's slim waist and pressed him against himself. Norway was strong but not strong enough to get free of his grip even though he did try. And did so greatly.

"Let me go!" he hissed and tried to force Denmark's hands apart.

"Nei," the other said in a cheerful tone, instead holding the other tighter. One hand began to wander lower and lower, slowly but steadily, until they reached the thigh.

"Denmark, I swear, if you don't let go of me, I will-"

"What?" Denmark asked with a challenging look, "What will you do? Rock me to death?" The hand began going back up, fingers slowly and alluringly playing with the fabric of the trousers before pinching the skin, then stroking it softly.

Norway blushed. Not with arousal, however, but with anger. This was always what happened! And this was what Norway was sick and tired of! Denmark got over, they watched some awful show and then Denmark wanted to go at it. And they were together so often. Norway let him down most of the time but Denmark still came over. It was frustrating. So very frustrating.

"If you don't let go of me," Norway said, his voice cold as ice and eyes the same, "I will break up with you."

The silence was ear-splitting. Denmark did not let go of Norway but slacked the grip a bit so the man could fight his way out of it. The second he was free, he straightened his clothes and the hair that had been ruffled in the process. He didn't notice Denmark's expression until his voice made him turn his head. Then he saw disbelief and ridicule.

"What?" the Norwegian asked. He had said those things before; he didn't expect Denmark to suddenly react to it like this. Like he believed it.

"Break up with me? Seriously?"

"Why not, what difference would it make? You would still continue to bother me." Norway's voice was dull, yet had a cold undertone. His heart was beating a tad faster than usually. Today was the day, he could feel, that he would finally say the things to Denmark he should have said a long time ago. He wondered why he hadn't done it before.

But he didn't get far in his speculations before Denmark's startled voice interrupted him.

"Why would you do that?" he asked. Norway didn't answer immediately. Instead he walked over to the television and manually turned it off. Standing in front of the screen, he turned around to face the Dane on the couch. He still looked shocked but it was clear that he was already getting ready to defend himself. A hard shine was moving into his eyes.

Norway sighed. "Denmark, I don't want to believe you are as stupid as Sweden says you are, but I'm starting to consider the possibility."

Denmark was instantly up from the couch, standing firmly on both feet with legs spread a tiny bit.

"What is that supposed to mean? Why do you and Sweden talk about me? What does he say?"

"Nothing that concerns what I want to talk with you about now."

"Oh yeah? And what is that?"

After this, there was a considerable time of silence. The two men stared at each other, one with intense anger building in his chest and shining in his eyes, the other looking absolutely cool and composed. Norway wasn't one to lose his cool.

Yet somehow, this was different. Norway wasn't feeling quite so calm and composed underneath the exterior. He was also angry, oh yes, he was, but he didn't let it show. He couldn't. Norway had a problem with showing emotions, especially towards Denmark unless it was anger. And anger there had been quite a lot of through the time. Somehow, Denmark always managed to rile up the Norwegian so they would have a fight every so often.

Norway knew this would be different.

Denmark had a feeling that it might be.

The Dane was about to ask again but then he stopped himself. Instead his stare intensified, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped a bit.

"Are you breaking up with me?" It was only a whisper, yet it filled the entire room now that the satiric TV-programme was turned off. Norway didn't answer. He just kept staring at the other, breathing deeply. Yes, this was going to be quite the fight.

"Are you?!" the Dane demanded to know, his voice raising a bit and his hand curling into fists. Denmark wasn't angry often but when he was, it didn't take a long time for him to be all worked up.

"In case you didn't hear me clearly, then I said I would break up with you if you didn't let go of me," Norway began, "and you didn't, so-"

"But you got free!" Denmark exclaimed, his eyes widening another bit and giving him a slightly crazy expression.

"So why do you think I'm still here?"

"… Because you want to talk?"

Norway clapped his hands slowly, clearly mockingly.

"I want to talk. And we need to."

"Why? What is wrong?"

Norway sighed. He didn't get it. Denmark didn't understand it. Wasn't it pretty clear? Wasn't it obvious how annoyed Norway was with his behaviour? Wasn't it easy to see that Norway wanted a change? It wasn't that he wanted to talk about this; it would mean dealing with his emotions, and not only those of annoyance. Also of those that confirmed that he actually loved Denmark. Because he did. He did love the stupid idiot, obnoxious and infuriating as he often was. He didn't get it. It was pretty unclear to him why he could love such a man.

But now, Denmark really looked nervous. The angry flame was slowly being put out and only the nervous and unsteadily burning embers remained. His eyes were moving slightly from side to side, seemingly looking for signs in Norway's face that would give away what the man would talk about.

The Norwegian took a deep breath, readying himself.

"Matthias," and already here he had Denmark's full and undivided attention – his human name was rarely used, and then only in pretty serious situations, "I want you to stop crossing my limits all the time. And I want you to respect my need for a private life without you in it."

"Why?" Denmark instantly asked, his voice suddenly hard.

"Because I can't stand being around you all the time. I need time for myself."

Denmark snorted in disbelief but before he got to say anything, Norway continued. "Listen carefully, asshat! I… I like you, and yes, God forbid it, I love you but that doesn't mean I can stand your company 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I need time for myself, where it's just me and where you are not there!"

"Sweden doesn't have that problem," Denmark said the moment Norway stopped speaking. "Sweden doesn't feel that need."

"Sweden is a whole different matter," Norway commented, internally counting to ten. Finding that ten wasn't enough, he raised it to fifty. "He has never known love before; of course he doesn't want to be away from Finland. He's desperate for his love. But that's beside the point in this argument. Unless, of course, you hunger for love just as much as Sweden does."

"No way I'd be like him," Denmark immediately snarled, just as Norway had expected.

"Good. Moving on. Why can't you understand how annoying you actually are? Isn't it clear to you that I don't always want your company? You know, when someone pushes you away, it means 'back the fuck off and leave me alone'. You should have learnt this already."

"Yeah, you use it all the time!"

"Because you are so damn annoying! I want my private space and you are constantly invading it! Stop smirking!"

The smirk left Denmark's face the moment he realized how serious Norway actually was. He even got quiet.

"All I say is that you should begin to consider how others are feeling. I don't like it when you're always with me or when you're constantly advancing on me."

"What do you want me to do, then?" Denmark asked and his voice was still so uncharacteristically hard, even cold.

"Well, obviously notice how I'm feeling, and react to that," Norway answered, feeling that this wasn't going as bad as it could have.

"Do you want me to stop hanging out around you?" the Dane then asked and even with his uncharacteristic voice it was easy to hear that he was hurt and maybe even scared. "Do you want me to not see you again?"

Norway stared at him. What? Was Denmark really so simple-minded that he did not understand there was more than that one option?

"Is there no middle way for you? You could stay for a shorter amount of time instead of not seeing me at all!"

"And then what? In a few months, you will probably rant about that 'shorter time' being too much for you again! In the end, we would end up not seeing each other at all!" Denmark was getting very worked up. Not only upset and confused but he also felt… fear. Fear of being left alone. Again. Fear that Norway, the only one who had cared enough about him to stay with him after the fall of the Kalmar Union, would now also leave him.

But he hid this. He didn't want to appear weak and pathetic. Not in Norway's presence.

Norway was also getting worked up. It was once more going as he had thought it would. And Denmark was not really helping.

"I don't see why that is so bad!" Norway shouted and he nearly regretted saying it the moment he realized what he had just said. Of course he wouldn't like never seeing Denmark again. But the idiot was just being much more idiotic than usually!

And if he hadn't regretted saying those words just by the thought of what they meant, then he sure did when seeing Denmark's reaction.

The tall, blonde and usually overly confident man suddenly stiffened. The muscles in arms and legs tensed, the royal-blue eyes widened enormously, making the man look crazy. Seconds after the shoulders had been protectively pulled up, they fell down again. His face was one big mixture of shock, fear and confusion. His hair seemed to wither.

Then real sadness kicked in. The shine that had been in his eyes didn't disappear but instead grew stronger. They looked moister.

It all only lasted for very few seconds. They were still staring at each other when Denmark's muscles relaxed , though his temples began to bulge, and his eyes got a harder shine. The moisture disappeared. In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed his coat and hat and was on his way out of the room.

"Fine," he said with an ice cold voice. Standing in the doorway, he turned around to send a last glance at Norway. "If that's the way you want it. I'm not going to bother you again, Lukas. You obviously hate me. I just thought there was also something else beneath your cold exterior."

He left the room and slammed the door shut with so much power that the hinges creaked.

Norway stood absolutely still, as if paralyzed, and stared at the closed door. He could hear Denmark stomp away. The silence that followed had never been so scary for him. He had never feared silence or thought it scary or anything, but he didn't like this kind of silence. Sure, he liked it when Denmark was asleep or when Denmark wasn't around but not after a fight. That was always a bad silence.

This just seemed to be a tad worse than usually.

Slowly, very slowly, the Norwegian sat down on the couch, his hands unconsciously finding and wringing each other. He had said it… he had finally said what had been on his mind for so long. And even if they had had a big fight, he thought it was for the better. Now Denmark knew and if he was ready to do something about his obnoxiously clingy behaviour, then Norway would be ready to accept that.

His eyes found the floor just as the door opened again and his head snapped upwards, making his neck give a painful snap.

Denmark stood there, still with his coat over the arm and hat in hand. In the other hand was the remote control.

"I believe this belongs to you." He proceeded to throw it at the couch and it landed right beside Norway. Then Denmark left again, slamming the door just as loudly as before.

Norway sighed and got up from the couch. In a few steps he stood by the door and locked it. He turned around and stared into the living room as if he had never really seen it before. He was now free to do whatever he liked. Not that he never did that, of course. But now he didn't have Denmark right behind him, breathing down his neck.

It was relieving, to be honest. He knew it was mean to think so, but Norway liked the thought. No more Denmark to interrupt his schedule or fuck up his plans. No more Denmark to always plan a party he didn't want to join but was forced to anyway. No more Denmark to complain about Sweden.

Just silence. This silence.

Translation:

Nei = No (Norwegian) (yes yes, Denmark used it, shhh)