"Hey… Tino?"

"…yeah?"

Tino chuckled, when Eduard tightened the scarf around him. The wind was really blowing today, and it made the gray day seem even colder than it really was, nipping at their cheeks and noses and turning them red. However, he didn't mind too terribly-he was used to the coldness of a northern winter. On the other hand, his friend… not as much. Eduard looked like a colorful marshmallow with his blue down jacket (with at least a sweater and a shirt under it), purple snow pants, white boots, bright red scarf, and green hat. Tino just had a jacket, jeans, and some regular boots on in comparison.

"Quit laughing!"

"You look like a rainbow exploded all over you."

"Well," Eduard muttered, "I can't really help it if you invited me so quickly, and I only had time to borrow from Miss Katayusha."

"Sorry," Tino half-apologized, "but really. Why those clothes? And why so many?"

The two trudged down the path, carrying a large bag of ice skates. It was a tradition, that whenever the Estonian came to visit, they would go ice skating at least once. Every year, just as it seemed like Estonia would get better at it, he failed. Many times. And it was up to Tino to help him up and teach him all over again-of course, while rubbing it in his friend's face that he had killer hockey player moves. The bespectacled blond would watch in admiration and slight envy as his friend zipped around the ice, swerving around the clumps of people on the ice, and sometimes doing a few jumps. He, on the other hand, could barely even glide, and somehow, he always tripped on his toe picks. But he would improve this year, just to prove to the Finnish man that he could actually not fail…

Okay, maybe not.

"If I fall, I want to have some cushioning so the impact will be absorbed, and it will be less injury to me," Eduard replied. The two finally got to the ice rink, and sat down on the cold benches. As he wiggled and forced his feet into the skates, he heard Tino reply. "It sounds really scientific, but good for you, I guess. I'm sure you'll do better this year."

"Probably not, judging from all of the times I've failed on ice."

"Now, that's not the way to look at it!" Tino finished lacing up his skates, and kneeled down in front of his friend to help him. "If you keep looking at it like that, then you'll never get the motivation to improve! Besides, you're not holding on the walls anymore! You're… a meter away, hehe."

"Shut it."

"Just telling you the truth," he shrugged. "You used to be better at this when we were little, didn't you?"

Eduard smiled lightly. "That was when I didn't have the economy to worry about. All we had to do was hunt and find shelter for the night…" He pulled Tino up, and they walked to the ice. "Those were the days, huh?"

"Yeah… Hey, you ready to go?" The Estonian nodded, and he took his first tentative step on the slippery surface. His body was stiff, knees locked and back straight, and as he tried to glide for the first time, Tino looked back at him. He was already skating backwards slowly, legs fluid and graceful. He made it look effortless!

But as the cheesy holiday music started loosening up his limbs, and his ankles and feet got used to the familiar movements, Eduard started to go faster and more smoothly, to the delight of his friend. It was relaxing, in a way. They had to concentrate on how they were moving and what their feet and legs were doing, but at the same time, it was like clockwork for two people who spent years doing this. The movements were habitual, like the tides of the ocean and the moon. And it was a hum in the back of their minds, the rhythm of "push, push, glide", the scratches in the ice tracing their thoughts.

And oh, how their thoughts traveled to and from. As they skated together, they talked about everything, from when they were little lads who built snowmen and made 1-meter tall forts that never really protected them from hails of snowballs, to what type of vodka was the best, and to guessing how much hair gel Denmark had to use to get his hair to stick up. In their world, where wars could start with a single threat and the economy was as volatile as a volcano, things moved quickly-too quickly. And as much as they considered themselves modern and independent nations, time would always be relative to them, and they would still remember the hunting days of mythical creatures and superhuman feats that defied nature and time. Their bodies were stuck in the present, but their minds ranged from the beginning of time to the end of the future. And such little things, like ice skating and reflecting on the details of life, tied their experiences all together. They had traveled more than any human ever would; they were more than any human.

However, they still had human bodies, and with them, human emotions. They felt sadness, anger, love, and happiness, like any other human, but their moods were so complex-a tinge of want mixed in with hate, contentment swirled with apathy, a dash of red hot anger clashing with green envy. They had years, decades, centuries to let this mish-mash of feelings boil and bubble. So when they felt a dominant emotion, it was deeper than the Mariana Trench. These only came out during wars, stress-inducing disasters… or through years and years of friendship and alliances, turning into-

Love. Could it really be, that a nation who had to merge with many other nations, could fall in love? Perhaps. A nation had a certain amount of love to spread in the hearts-who and how many people they decided to give that to was their own choice.

For Eduard there was only one person. Only one.

"Hey, watch out!"

The next thing he knew, he was on the ice, and staring up at an embarrassed Finn, who was smiling sheepishly. Groaning, he tried to shove his friend off and find his glasses. He could feel his back starting to hurt, but luckily, he didn't hit his head. Tino offered him a hand. "You really should watch where you're going."

"Sorry," Eduard said, "I was just thinking about something. What happened?"

"Well, while you were spacing out, you bumped into me and slipped. And then you brought me down with you." They started to skate again, but Eduard went more slowly.

"Again, I'm sorry about that. I'll try not to space out." They glided over to the benches, and sat down. The wind blew harder just then, causing Eduard to hunch down deeper into his coat and scarf, and he started shivering.

He felt a hand on his arm. "Hey, are you okay?" Tino's eyebrows were crinkled in worry. "Maybe we should go back now. It's getting cold, and we can start up the fire at my place. Maybe even shoot some vodka shots."

"You can do the shooting, and I'll light the fire," Eduard chuckled, "Let's go."

As they put on their boots and walked out, he asked his friend, "If I was skating, and I bumped into you, then how did I bring you down?"

"You must've hit your head, then, because you were holding on to my hand for dear life. It was kind of cute, really. The hand-holding, not the falling."

A blush started to warm up his cheek, one that he would later attribute to the cold wind. But in the end, it wasn't the coldness of the world around him, but the warmth of a love inside of him.

"Do you remember…"

"Geez, you must be really cold." The Finn mentioned. He and his friend were bundled up in old, worn, woolen blankets and staring at the dancing flames in front of them. Occasionally, a pop of the embers would embed itself in the comfortable silence. But even the flames weren't warm enough for the Estonian, who had taken to leaning on Tino's shoulder and trying to hug him the best he could.

"It's a lot colder here than it is in Tallinn," he muttered. His feet, covered with red socks, wiggled around and nudged Tino's sock covered feet, as their blankets weren't that long. Shifting in the blanket, he eased his head onto his friend's shoulder.

"And that's why I told you to drink more," Tino chuckled, "Vodka helps you warm up."

"Only after burning a trail through your throat."

"Eh, you get used to it. Drinking is good for the soul!" He shifted too, so he could face his friend. Their foreheads knocked, and he could feel the cold metal of Eduard's glasses slipping off his nose (and touching his nose, since their noses were somehow touching too). "You should take off your glasses. They're getting in the way."

"Huh?" Eduard tried to sit up, but flopped in his blanket and fell against Tino again. "Getting in the way of what?"

"The better to see you with, my dear!"

"Tino, you're not French, and you're not the wolf from Red Riding Hood."

"Whatever. Just let me take them off!"

Again, he tried to move away, but a partially drunk Tino was faster than a not-too-sober Eduard. He jumped on top of him, and grinned down at his frowning friend. "I may be no wolf, but I'll get you in the end."

"You've already gotten my heart, what more could you possibly claim?" he said quietly, but to his relief, he didn't think Tino heard him. "What did you say?"

"Uh, ah, nothing."

"Okay, then… off come the glasses!" Tino's hands brushed by his temples softly, fingers brushing his hair back. It was a feather-light touch, yet the impact of its closeness sent Eduard mentally reeling. The clarity of his vision shifted, the glass view getting smaller and being replaced with blurriness around it and the legs of the frame dragging on his ears. It was strange, to let someone else take off his glasses, because when Tino did it, he felt… exposed. His eyes were always hidden and distorted. To have someone else see them the way they truly hit him at the core.

"Is there something on my face, or…"

"Oh. Sorry. I got lost in thought. Besides, you know I can barely see anything without my glasses," Eduard mumbled. His glasses were set aside on the rug. Then he looked at the Finnish man in front of him, tilting his head and staring at him curiously with those amethyst eyes. It was a piercing stare, and even in the hazy details, it was clear.

"Hey, Tino."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you have me take off my glasses? What were they getting in the way of?"

"This." And maybe it was because he was tipsy-they were both warm from the alcohol and the fire and the blankets and their warmth. Or perhaps, they were practically on top of each other, and it was just a mistake, just an action that they looked too deeply into. Eduard didn't really want to believe it was a mistake. He didn't.

And he let himself believe that for once, his friend wasn't just his friend, but someone who loved him with more than a caring love, a passion worthy of a nation's deep feelings. He wanted to believe that the soft and agile lips upon his were acting of their own accord. As he moved against him, lips smacking loudly and taking breath away from each other, he realized that like his breath, this man was vital to him. He needed him to live and move on.

He let himself believe that they kissed out of stifled years of love.

Perhaps Tino did love him in return.

He just wanted it to be.

"…how it used to be?"

"…yeah. I do."

"I believed in us."

"So did I."

"But that was the past."

"Yeah… This is now."

"I want to believe that we were in the past."

"I wish I could believe too."

[Author's Note]

This was written for the APH Secret Santa Fic Exchange on Tumblr for gryphonfingers (my URL is a-senseless-dreamer). Request: EstFin, some fluff and/or angst, based on the song Same Old Lang Syne/Dan Fogelburg, some cuddling near a fire. I admit that this isn't my best piece, but I think it did fairly well. (The deadline was in two hours, and I had only a quarter of it written, so I was hunched over my iPod, furiously typing on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party... it was supposed to be only 800 words, and I managed over 2,000?! Wow...)