A/N: Author here, I'm terribly sorry for being inactive. I spent most of my winter break with my roleplaying group friends, so I neglected writing ;v ; But fear not, I am far from dead! School started up again, but I'll do my best to keep y'all satisfied. So before I resume working on my latest chapter story, here's a nice fluffy DenNor oneshot! I think it's obvious I don't own Hetalia –u-;; Enjoy!

Note: Consternation- (n.) Feelings of anxiety/dismay, typically at something unexpected.

Darkness hung outside the windows like a starry drape. 2 A.M.

Norway sighed at his desk, the dizzying brightness of his laptop's screen the only viable light source in his room. All the other Nordics were soundly asleep. Not him. Tonight, his insomnia was especially bothersome.

Shades of gray were beginning to paint the undersides of the Norwegian's eyes. He was beyond tired. But what could he do about it? Insomnia had him in a vice grip.

Bored, he scrolled through pages of scary stories, scanning the lines of some. There was nothing better to do, anyways. He didn't even feel that fearful. They were just stupid stories, right?

After reading a few creepy urban legends, the short blonde decided to try and have a go at getting some rest, no matter how meager. Shutting off the laptop, he got up, bones cracking, and settled into the fluffy encasing of sheets and pillows. Closed his eyes.

A minute went by. Thirty minutes. Sixty.

Ridiculous, Norway thought. I won't be able to get to sleep this way.

Heaving another sigh, Norway sat up in his bed, hugging his knees. The room was bathed in darkness.

Suddenly, Norway felt as if he were being watched. A tiny shiver arced down his spine, and he drew his knees in further. The Norwegian wanted to gaze into the blackness, search for answers, but was too afraid of what he might see. His mind was already conjuring up horrors from those damned stories. Eyeless ghouls peeking from the closet, hands reaching up from the floorboards, threatening shadows. Reading those stories was a bad decision.

Burying his face in between both knees, Norway tried to focus on something, anything else. That was quickly fixed for him, but not in the way he wanted.

A sudden, loud "crack!" resonated from outside, making Norway jump. He did his best to hold back a scream. Scrambling over to the window, he saw thin ribbons of lightning flashing out of the stormy gray clouds. Thunder boomed like a beat in the background. An unexpected thunderstorm.

The blonde man returned to bed, shaking. His anxiety worsened as the storm outside continued rumbling relentlessly. He wanted to get away from it.

Grabbing his pillow and clutching it tightly, Norway faced his fears and walked downstairs. Quickly, he flicked on the living room light switch. Relief washed over him as the light flooded the spacious room, expelling any dark and mindless creatures.

He made himself comfortable on the plush sofa, still cuddling the pillow to his pulsing chest. It was wracked with the feel of his heartbeat. With every moment the thunder and lightning kept on, Norway just got more and more scared. What if the house got struck? What if a power outage occurred?

Burying his face in the pillow, the Norwegian kept it there for a while, then brought it back up again, noticing darker stains against the cushion's pale hue. Tears had slipped from his eyes, without him noticing.

I'm such a wimp, getting scared like this, Norway thought to himself. He struggled to pull his stoic façade back over his face again. Right then, he heard heavy footsteps behind him. Whipping around, he saw his boyfriend Denmark at the foot of the stairs.

"Wh-what are you doing up?" Norway asked shakily, inwardly cursing himself for sounding so nervous.

But his shaking frame and tear-stained cheeks, not to mention the fear in his normally apathetic blue eyes, was obvious to Denmark. "I should be asking you that," the Dane replied, making his way over to the more petite man. "Are you okay?

Norway hesitated. Would confessing his fears to the Dane make him weak? Then again, they did always talk about a lot…This can't hurt.

"My i-insomnia is acting up again, so I can't sleep…and the storm outside is scaring me…"

Denmark lifted his eyebrows. "I thought thunderstorms didn't scare you anymore, Nor."

In a way, it might've been true. Even through the Viking ages, Norway had feared thunder and lightning. He just didn't show it. "Not quite," he conceded.

Denmark slid in next to the Norwegian, gathering the shaking blonde into his arms. "It's okay, Norge," he whispered, stroking the silky hair. "You're safe here, you're safe."

Norway abandoned the pillow and pressed his face into the taller man's chest, sobbing out his fears and anxieties. Each time thunder sounded, Norway would twitch and jolt. All the while, Denmark hugged Norway close, rubbing his back and murmuring into his ear comfortingly. Training his hearing, he realized the storms were dying down a bit.

Norway's crying was also quieting, too. Denmark wanted to make sure he really felt stable where he was, so he decided to do something he hadn't done in a while.

Sing.

Leaning back into the couch, the Dane began singing his and Norway's special song in a soft voice.

And we don't care about the young folks,

Talkin' bout the young style.

And we don't care about the old folks,

Talkin' bout the old style too.

And we don't care about our own folks,

Talkin' bout our own style.

All we care about is talkin',

Talkin', only me and you.

Norway's eyes widened slightly as he heard the lyrics. His racing heart stopped running laps in his ribcage, and his brain calmed down enough for him to register that the thunder and imaginary monsters were basically nonexistent now.

He snuggled closer to the Dane. It didn't matter that Denmark wasn't the world's best singer; his voice fit perfectly with their song, and Norway found himself feeling much better. Sniffling a few times, he wiped away his tears and mustered up a tiny smile.

"Jeg elsker deg, Danmark."

Denmark smiled widely, and kissed the top of Norway's head lovingly. "And I you," he responded. "Now go to sleep, and maybe we can eat some æbleskiver come tomorrow."

Norway shut his eyes. With his lover holding him, keeping him safe, the Norwegian felt protected-a feeling he didn't experience often. His body allowed him to rest this time, and sleep swept him away fairly quickly, mellow velvet sheets. The flashes of lightning still attempting to catch attention beyond the house were long forgotten, as was Norway's earlier consternation. And he had a certain Dane to thank for that.

A/N: Aah, how was that? I did my best òvó Fun fact: Æbleskiver is very good! It's a Danish food traditionally eaten up until Christmas...Foxtail1302 enlightened me on this; thank you! :3 They look like round puffy balls of dough, and are also known as Danish pancakes. You eat them with jam and/or powdered sugar. Try them sometime~I buy mine at Trader Joe's. Fun fact 2: The song Denmark was singing is called "Young Folks" by Peter Bjorn and John. It's my and my girlfriend's special song. 3 That being said, she and I roleplay Denmark and Norway (respectively), so I thought I'd incorporate that into the story. Thanks so much for reading, and please review! Reviews fuel me :3