Vidar- Norway

...

Why do I do this to myself? Why must I start so many stories? This isn't self-love man.

But I have wanted to write another SuFin multichapter fic for ages now because I love them and have been using them as a side pairing for five years now. This is actually a little different to my other fics in that it's more… fic-like, if that makes sense. It's mostly fluff and a bit of humour, and focuses on the characters' relationship and how it builds, rather than complex plot first, characters' relationship second, which is what I normally do. So this'll be interesting to write.

It's also the first fic I'm writing that will contain smut. Usually I just keep that for PWP but I'm… curious to try it out. So yeah that and alcohol are the only things I really need to put a warning up for. Again, this feels really strange. It's actually mind-boggling not writing angst...

Oh, and Kukkamuna is Hanatamago in Finnish. Credit to tumblr user peteradnan for that.

Tino didn't think himself that much of a presumptuous person. He strived to keep an open mind about most aspects in life- to see good until proven bad like some insufferable optimist- but in the end he was human. A flawed little human who wasn't quite sure if he was looking forward to the evening's plans.

A night out with his friends was, honestly, just what he needed right now- after a week cooped up inside working on that piece for his blog he wanted nothing more than to relax, talk with other human beings, and maybe get a little shitfaced. It would be good to catch up, but Tino wasn't entirely sure about the presumably amataur band they were seeing. Something Pagans. He wasn't too sure what his mate had called them but he wasn't going to bet that they were anything special.

He knew Vidar's cousins were in the band, and the man seemed pretty damn keen for him to come along and see them. Exposure, he supposed. Tino could do a little spot on them if they were good- or bad. No wait, he couldn't go bad mouthing Vidar's family like that. He'd not mentioned the blog at all, but Tino guessed that was what he was hoping for: there was always something else going on with Vidar and that tick-tocking mind of his. If Tino tried to avoid writing about them, he might notice and feel hurt. And thus, if they were bad, Tino would have to choose between his reputation- and career- and loyalty to his friend. Oh boy.

Tino groaned in his chair, leaning back to stretch as he glanced at his computer, sat snug in the corner of the main room of his flat. Every few seconds he'd refresh the page to have a little gander at his latest blog entry- and any new comments. He loved the compliments, of course, and there were the insightful opinions, and then there were the people who thought they knew more about the subject than him. Oh those were soon shut down. No one knew more about metal and metal bands than he did.

Maybe he revelled in the thrill of an internet fight a little too much. And maybe he really did need to get outside more. Even his shopping was done on the internet and sometimes Tino could go a whole week without leaving his building.

And he wasn't exactly one for keeping up appearances when he had nowhere to go, and it took ages to look as cute as he did. When he didn't try, he was borderline terrifying.

Speaking of which, he'd have to crack on if he didn't want to look like a troll compared to Vidar and his little brother- both of whom could easily pass for elves or incubi or some other pretty fucking mythical creature- and the final member of their little party- his own cousin Eduard- was a particularly dazzling guy. Wouldn't he look a picture in old, stained jog bottoms; a frayed jumper that was currently constricting his belly and moobs; and his hair sticking up in every imaginable direction. At least his glare would stop people from questioning what he was doing in a mosh pit. What did they mean he looked fragile anyway? Just because he was short and had a babyface. Still, a few elbows to various jaws and no one doubted how tough he was in a hurry.

Tino's blood ran cold as a thought struck him: what if there wasn't a mosh pit?

Well, there'd be a pretty small turnout, given how unknown the band was, and the room itself would probably be tiny. Still, he'd just drag Eduard onto the floor and make his own mosh pit, regardless about what the guy thought.

Tino half-lifted himself from his swivel chair, refreshed the page one last time and- lo and behold- someone had decided to start an argument with him regarding something he'd written. Tino cracked his knuckles as he prepared to drag this little fucker into the ground.

...

Three hours later, the argument had descended into correcting each other's grammar and Tino was running horribly late. What the hell had he been thinking? Oh fuck- Eduard would be here any minute now and he still looked like a troll! And not even a hot troll, like those ones he sometimes caught Vidar drawing, with a strong jaw and manly eyebrows. No, some ugly troll that lived under a bridge and ate children.

He stumbled into his bedroom with a yelp, waking his dog with a start. Kukkamuna yapped as he began pulling clothes from his wardrobe into the bed where she'd been sleeping, and she was soon buried under an old t shirt, a flapping sheet of a ghost-dog darting round.

Tino was in just as much of a state, if he was being honest with himself.

Did he have time to shower? Could he get away with just dousing himself in aftershave and air freshener?

Tino assaulted his hair with a brush as he studied his outfit choices. It wasn't that his hair was very thick, moreso that it was fine and wispy, and stuck up wherever it pleased. Tino guessed he'd have to make some sort of effort with his outfit, since he was going out and all. Honestly, his lucky brown sleeveless jumper seemed like the best choice for a night out, but it probably wasn't metal enough for such a crowd. He liked the idea of black skinny jeans though, something to hug his butt and get the attention of any cute singles. Hopefully.

That left the shirt. To be honest, Tino didn't fancy wearing any band t shirts to see a different band. It felt too weird, but did cut down his options by about seventy five percent. Maybe one of his t shirts with those quirky sayings- they were always good.

A knock to the door left him jumping and reaching for a random shirt at the same time, and Tino just went with what he'd picked- 'never fear, the Finn is here'- as he darted out of the room. He shoved it over his head, and just let his t shirt hang around his neck, not bothering with sleeves as he fumbled with the lock.

Sure enough, it was Eduard, looking like he'd stumbled over straight from work: sweaty, scruffy and a little tired.

"Well at least I won't be the worst looking tonight," Tino commented.

"Nice," Eduard sniffed in mock-hurt, "pretty judgemental for a guy with his tits out."

"I might be a little behind," Tino grumbled as he pulled his shirt on.

"So I can wash my face and borrow some deodorant?" Eduard shuffled past, making a beeline for Tino's room only to be greeted by a rather excited Kukkamuna, leaping up to paw at his shins. Because what difference would dog hair make at this point?

"Aww, Kukka wants to say hi to Uncle Ed," Tino gushed, much to his cousin's disdain.

"For the last time," Eduard sighed, "your dog is not your child, and is certainly not my niece."

Tino gave an offended cry, bending down to cover Kukkamuna's ears.

"Oh come on she can't hear me!"

"I don't come into your home and insult your laptop," he whined. Eduard hated it when Tino went near his baby- something about sticky fingers from all the sweets he ate.

"So who are we seeing?" asked Ed, rather quickly.

"Some new band, I guess," maybe he should've paid closer attention to what his best friend had been saying. "Do you remember Vidar's cousins?"

"Vaguely." Eduard wandered into Tino's room to grab supplies in the form of deodorant and some aftershave, even though he had a sneaking suspicion he'd end up smelling like blood, alcohol and weed by the end of the night. "Oh that reminds me," he added, glancing down at Tino's lucky jumper, "I have to phone grandad."

"Wow. But yeah they sing in this band. I think one was this tiny freckled scruff and the other was sort of lanky, like." Tino scratched his chin, "Tall, I think he hated me."

Eduard paused. "Really? Why invite us then?"

"I'm guessing Vidar wants me to write about them. I hope the guy doesn't mind me being there." Tino just shrugged at that, "whatever, I'll be drinking anyway."

"Don't go mad now," Eduard raised his hands, looking somewhat apprehensive.

"Why on earth would I ever?"