I'm sorry for my absence. I'm trying to get more writing done but it's rather hard at the moment. Not beta-read.

When they looked back, none of them actually quite understood how the hell it happened or what led to it. But they were all sure that some amount of alcohol had been involved. If not a lot, at least in Sweden's case because there was no way in Hell that he would let Denmark join in on his and Finland's more private actions. Of course, it wasn't that big of a deal; it was only a kiss, what could possibly go wrong? Sweden would never have allowed Denmark to do anything to Finland if he hadn't been so drunk he couldn't point out the difference between coffee and diet coke.

It all started when they were comfortably seated in a small, cosy pub in the Southern part of England, more precisely in Bristol. Beside them sat England himself and together, they were looking over some papers that Denmark found absolutely uninteresting and so, he was doodling on the surface of their table. His hand supported his chin as he did so, yet he managed to look interested by casting a glance at the papers every once in a while. Finland and Sweden seemed totally interested and into it, nodding and commenting, even picking up a small discussion about something. They pointed at different lines and sentences, speaking quickly and occasionally slipping in a Scandinavian word. This confused England greatly which in turn amused Denmark.

One thing, though, that amused Denmark more than England's confusion, was that Sweden actually drank alcohol. Every time a waiter came to clean a table or pick up some glasses, he would order another pint of beer or another glass of grog. It was mostly grog. This drink was familiar to him and he wasn't that fond of beer (something that Denmark made sure to clarify he didn't understand). Finland sent him a worried glance every now and then, fully aware that Sweden was not used to alcohol stronger than mulled wine, but he didn't comment it. Maybe, he entrusted Denmark with in a low voice and in the bathroom, he was even looking forward to see what kind of effect the drinking would have on Sweden. At this, Denmark grinned and slapped the other's back in a friendly manner, though with an evil smile.

When they returned from the bathroom, Sweden was standing up and so was England. It seemed they were saying goodbye to one another.

"I bid you goodbye," England said and shook Sweden, Denmark and Finland's hands in turn before bowing politely, putting on his bowler hat and gloves and then walked out of the pub, grabbing his umbrella which stood by the door. It was cold and raining outside, but inside the pub, the temperature was nice and cosy, and the room was filled with cheerful laughter and soft voices. A wonderful atmosphere reigned.

"Why don't we have these kinds of places?" Denmark asked and caught a waitress, ordering something with plenty of alcohol, a mug of mead and another glass of grog.

"'cause ya only have interest 'n drinking yourself int' the gutter," Sweden grunted and downed the rest of his glass with grog. When he put it down, it was done with a bit more power than necessary. Denmark raised an eyebrow and it looked like he had cramps in his face. It was, however, only because he tried to fight off a smile.

"But doing it in a place like this could be nice."

"You have nice places," Finland commented and smiled at a waitress when she brought them their ordered drinks. "Do you drink so much that you can't remember them?"

Denmark just grinned and winked at the waitress who sent him a smug smile before she turned around and walked away, her hips swaying a bit too much for it to be by accident.

"Great ass!" Denmark shouted after her and raised his glass. Sweden slapped his head, and not too gently.

"Not polite."

"Oh yeah," the Dane began and turned his head, looking at the Swede, "like you're any better, keeping little Fin all to yourself. What if he doesn't like being kept to only one person? What if he," Denmark lowered his voice and completely ignored Sweden's warning expression as he leant over the table, "wants to try something else than Swedish meatballs?"

Finland, who had just taken a sip of his drink, knowing that an argument between the two wouldn't end anytime soon, snorted and nearly choked on the drink, resulting in the liquid exploding out of his nose. He hawked and spit, was coughing and half stifled with laughter at the same time, making it unclear whether the tears in his eyes were from discomfort or laugher.

Sweden was not even close to laughing. His face was not empty either, though. It looked like he was fighting himself not to smile. His gaze was flickering between Denmark and Finland who had gotten some other guests' interest; two women and a man whispered eagerly with each other and pointed at him.

"Not funny," he grunted and sent the humans a disapproving look. His attention was quickly taken to Denmark, though, when the man continued talking, his face finally cracking in a wide grin.

"Sure I am! But seriously, haven't you ever thought about it? What if Finland wanted to try, say… some Danish pork sausage?"

This time, Finland had made sure not to drink anything when Denmark opened his mouth. Instead of choking on his drink, he therefore just laughed. Long and loudly.

"You can't just use food synonyms!" he gasped out when he was done laughing and his breathing was somewhat under control again. "It's weird!"

"'N gross. Then again, fits ya," Sweden commented and lifted his glass of grog to his lips, swallowing half the content before putting the glass down again. Unsurprisingly, Denmark had already emptied his mug of mead.

"Avoiding my question," he chirped with a smug smile, ignoring the insult. He was so used to it by now that it required much more than just that to get his blood boiling.

The two old arch-enemies stared at each other for a long, long moment. It wasn't exactly a tense silence, it was just the silence of two men not wanting to give in and be the first to break eye contact. Finland used the time to swallow the rest of his drink, quickly ordering another round when a waitress came by. He received a worried comment from her, something about being careful about drinking so much when he was so small, but he waved it off and smiled to her.

Nothing would happen to Finland. He could drink pure vodka without becoming even tipsy. This had amused Russia quite a lot of times already.

Finally Sweden broke the silence.

"If Fin wants som'thing, he can just say so." Then he looked over at Finland who blushed just a tiny, tiny bit but smiled widely. Of course he knew this. Sweden had never denied him anything. "Don' think I could deny him anything if he asked for it."

Denmark looked smug for a second, then turned his head when he heard chairs be pushed away behind him. The three humans who had whispered about Finland had gotten up and now walked over to them.

"Hey," one of the ladies – a tall, slim brunette with big and almond-shaped, green eyes and the hair in a ponytail – said in a low and dark voice, obviously trying to sound seductive. Denmark quickly looked at Sweden, wriggled his eyebrows and looked back at the humans.

They all greeted them as with one voice.

"I'm sorry but we couldn't avoid hearing you talk," the other woman said. She was not quite as tall as the other but she was very skinny and had short, almost white hair and blue eyes. "Sounds like you have some trust issues," she continued and pointed at Sweden with a long finger. The nail was painted in a deep red colour.

Denmark snorted but tried to muffle the sound. Sweden looked confused for a moment, then his jaws were set tightly and his lips pressed together, forming a thin line. Finland attempted to hide a smile but didn't succeed. It ended up looking like he had a terrible toothache.

"Dunno whatcha talking 'bout," Sweden said and downed the rest of his drink, just as the waitress arrived with a new serving. He snatched the glass and emptied it in one go.

"I think I do," Denmark smirked and grabbed Finland's hand, pulling him close. The man yelped in surprise but focused on saving his drink before noticing what was going on. However, when he caught on, he sent Denmark a surprised glance before looking at Sweden. The man seemed frozen, staring at them with wide eyes as they leant across the table.

The humans who were still watching seemed absolutely intrigued by this scenery. Even the man who was of average height and weight, with a bushy moustache, grey eyes and big front teeth.

But as soon as Denmark began pulling Finland even closer, Sweden stood up, nearly knocking the table over in the process. His hand reached out to slap Denmark – or punch him in the gut, who knows – but was stopped by a much smaller hand.

Finland didn't let go of Sweden's hand. Not even after Denmark was sitting down again, working on his new mug of mead and talking with the humans. They tried to get in contact with Sweden but the man was furious that Denmark had tried to kiss his Finland. Sweden had made it very clear who Finland belonged to. And he would not bend his will, not even if he was… slightly drunk.

But time passed by, and they all got more and more intoxicated. However, it was Sweden who seemed to be most affected. In just a few hours, he was drunk enough that his words started to slur and he wasn't reacting that harsh to Denmark or the humans when they complimented Finland. He just sent them a warning glance, filled to the brim with the cold only he and Germany could muster, before he took a sip of his drink.

Before long, he also agreed on drinking mead. He even tasted Finland's drink, though that only happened once.

"What kind of poison is that?" he gasped less than half a minute later when he was done emptying the faucet of water in the bathroom. Finland stood beside him, smiling widely and not tipsy in the slightest.

"It's not that bad. Just some vodka mixed up with rum," he chuckled. Sweden groaned and straightened his back, wiping his mouth with a nearby towel.

"I think it would taste better from my lips." Sweden's body stiffened and he slowly turned around to look at the Finn who had suddenly gotten very close. So close that Sweden could almost count the small and nearly invisible freckles on Finland's cheeks, despite his drunkenness. He only got them when it was summer and when he had been in the sun for a long time.

"In fact," he murmured and pressed Sweden backwards with a hand until he ended up against the wall, his face completely blank but eyes wide open and with a hungry shine, "why don't you taste for yourself?"

Then Sweden finally reacted. He reached out and pulled Finland flush against his bigger and stronger body, holding him in a tight grip that made the other yelp, then moan. Their lips were aggressively pressed together time and time again, hungry and needy. Finland was not right – the strong alcohol did not taste better off his lips but Sweden could ignore that in favour of tasting Finland.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks when Finland let a small moan pass his lips again, and next thing he felt was a daring hand that wandered lower and lower until it rested right above his crotch. No pressure was added, he wasn't petting or anything, the hand just lingered there.

And Sweden was very aware that they were in a public place and that anyone could walk in on them any minute and…

"Starting the party without me?"

Sweden cursed internally. None other than Denmark stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and smirking at them. Finland clung to Sweden for a moment longer before he exhaled deeply and turned around to face the Dane.

"You seemed to be doing well with your friends," he said nonchalantly and made sure to hide Sweden's lower regions. He had a strong feeling that the Swede couldn't control his body at the moment. Not when it came to that, at least.

Denmark shrugged and walked closer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, yeah, but they were actually only interested in you, Fin," he revealed. This was clearly a surprise to Finland and his eyes went wide as he pointed at himself.

"Me?"

"Ja. Said something about your pretty eyes and your smooth skin or something like that. Sweden was only complimented for his glasses. Did you know they're latest fashion in the Czech Republic?" he asked the Swede who just at him, clearly wishing he would miraculously be set on fire.

"Shame. Anyway, the brunette asked me if I could ask you for a date with her, Finny."

"No," Sweden instantly answered and, whether or not it was a conscious move was hard to determine, put a hand on Finland's shoulder. "Fin's mine, 'n ya know it."

Denmark raised an eyebrow. Finland hadn't even gotten to say a word.

"Again with the trust issues, Swe. Not that I would have expected anything else from you, but-"

"I do not have trust issues!" His voice was surprisingly clear and the words not slurred at all. He sounded angry, like he couldn't believe what they were saying about him. He didn't look like it, though. The cold face was hard as ever, though his cheeks were slightly pink.

"Oh yeah?" Denmark quickly retorted, his eyes shining with mischief. "How do you prove that?" He wriggled his eyebrows and sent knowing looks at Finland.

Sweden stared at him for a long moment. Then…

"Don't need t' prove anything t' ya. Ya know it, 'n so does Fin."

But suddenly, Finland seemed to pick up Denmark's cue.

"You did say I could have anything I want," he pointed out and looked up at the bigger Swede. His heart was speeding up, and a weird feeling was quickly picking up. If Denmark and he were thinking the same thing…

"Ja. Denmark not included."

"But… if it was both Finny and I?" Denmark said in a hinting tone and Finland knew they were on the same track. It was hilarious as well as it was shocking. How could Denmark, of all people, come up with such an idea? It was Sweden, his arch-enemy for so many centuries! Perhaps the alcohol had gotten to his system and his brain after all.

"You're insane," was all that Sweden said.

"Come ooon, don't you wanna prove you don't have trust issues? Just this once and I will never ask for Finny again! And obviously not you, either, that'd be disgusting," Denmark added with a surprisingly serious tone. He appeared serious, too, although there was excitement in his eyes. A sick kind of excitement. Who the hell would kiss his arch-enemy just to prove a stupid point that everyone knew was right?

Everyone knew it, except the man it concerned.

The long and hard stare from Sweden continued for what seemed like a minute. It was clear that he was thinking hardly about the meaning and consequences of this, even if he didn't know what exactly Denmark and Finland had in mind. To them, it was all good fun and a good joke they could tell the others when they had sobered up.

Finally, the Swede sighed deeply and his drunken mind had reached a conclusion.

"Den, ov'r here." If Denmark had been able to, he would probably have somersaulted around the room. With so much alcohol in his system, however, it was not recommendable. Instead, he just stepped over to the couple as if springs were attached to his feet and stood beside them.

Sweden looked like he had just signed his own death when he asked:

"So… what did ya have in min'?"

"A three-way French kiss," Denmark and Finland answered simultaneously. Sweden stiffened for a moment, then nodded in defeat.

"Guess it could've been worse."

And then the impossible was made possible – Sweden grabbed Denmark's shoulder without the intent to crush him and Finland's waist and pressed them all together. Their lips didn't at all hit each other but instead, their heads bumped together. Sweden's glasses were knocked askew and Denmark's nose was hurt. Obviously, drunk Sweden couldn't control anything, only barely his mind. Denmark therefore took over. With a wide grin and glistening eyes, he carefully put a hand on Sweden and Finland's neck whereupon he brought them together.

It wasn't exactly a success. Their lips didn't move together at all and instead of being sensual and interesting, it was wet, sloppy and all over the place.

"Okay, stop," Finland suddenly said and broke away from the kiss, leaving Sweden and Denmark alone in it for a second before they realized it. They instantly backed away, looks of disgust but also slight amusement on their faces. "How about I try to organize this?"

They nodded. Finland took a firm, but gentle grip on the others' neck and first brought Sweden's mouth to his. They kissed for a few second, got some sort of rhythm to it before Finland gave Denmark permission to enter.

And finally, it worked out. They quickly found a rhythm they could all agree on and though their lips were touching two other pairs at the same time, it didn't feel that weird. Though that could, of course, be blamed on the alcohol.

For how long they stood there and kissed each other, soft and warm lips dancing over a cold and chipped mouth before being occupied by another pair of warm lips, they didn't know. All of a sudden, though, they could feel a tongue sneak into it and they tensed for a minute before accepting it. Soon after that, they all began to involve the tongue and heat and tension started to build up between them. If anyone had walked in on them and seen it, they would have thought they were a mental incident. Denmark and Sweden were growling angrily at each other, clearly not letting their past be forgotten even in this moment – they even tried to bite each other's tongue - while Sweden and Finland were humming softly, occasionally moaning, and Finland and Denmark were fighting to keep from laughing, though a moan also slipped here and there.

Denmark's shoulders hurt immensely. Sweden was seemingly very much into the kiss while at the same time feeling a strong wish to strangle Denmark. In return, Denmark's grip on Sweden's neck tightened.

Finland's grip on both of them was quite gentle even though firm. Being able to control when the kiss was over he didn't stop before he was completely out of breath. Then he let them go and backed away, his eyes opening once more.

Sweden and Denmark didn't seem to realize that Finland had suddenly disappeared. They continued kissing for nearly ten seconds before this dawned upon them. But of course, as soon as they found out, they quickly and violently pushed each other away while wiping their mouths.

They were silent for a couple of minutes. All of them were blushing, even Sweden though it was nearly invisible on his pale cheeks.

Then Denmark broke the silence and slapped Sweden's back.

"Now I believe ya. Who wants to go for another beer?" It was, however, a lie. Denmark wouldn't trust Sweden that easily.

"I do, I do, I do!" Finland chirped and grabbed Sweden's hand, waving Denmark off with a wide smile. The moment the Dane was out of the room, Finland whirled around to press a hard and wild kiss to Sweden's lips.

"Thanks for trusting me," he whispered to him and cupped the Swede's crotch, palming it just so very softly. "And don't worry; I would never exchange your Swedish meatballs for his Danish pork sausage."

Three-way French kiss between Sweden, Finland and Denmark? Why the hell not?

Translations:
Ja = Yes (Swedish, Danish)