Sequel to Three Little Words. The new couple gives dating a try.
Wow. I never would have thought that story would end up being so well-received! There were several requests for a sequel, so... alrighty! I hadn't anticipated a sequel when I wrote it, but let's give it a shot. XD Yay for spreading the Denmark/America love!
I hope the Danish terms came out okay. It was fun to research. I have to say, my favorite suggestion for a Danish term of endearment that I came across online meant "I love you like a bacon pastry". O_o
Researching the countries' histories and interactions and whatnot was also d'aaww.
Not sure at the moment where to take the story next. It's labeled as 'complete' for now (hey, I don't wanna look like I've got a million stories in progress, even though I sorta do...) But I may add more chapters when inspiration happens to strike in the future. :D
I feel like such a bad USUK fan, but dammit, it amuses me when they fight...
Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine
England took a seat near America at the bar and ordered a drink. Minutes passed with no words spoken. Observers could have sworn they saw cartoony lightning bolts pass between them whenever they exchanged a glance.
"Not drinking?" The Brit took a sip of his own beverage, and set the mug down a little harder than necessary.
"Nope. Just meeting someone."
More tense moments. The closest patrons scooted away.
"For a date?" England asked.
"Yup."
"I see. Is it serious?"
"Maybe."
"Ah." England took another swig, then wiped foam from his mouth. "I thought we were doing okay last time we went drinking."
"We were. But then you decided to go home with someone." Never mind that America couldn't remember that happening at all and only knew from word of mouth and he had gone home with someone, too.
"I'd feel guilty about that if we'd gotten back together beforehand," England said, words laced with icicles. "Last I heard, we were still broken up."
America just shrugged. "Are you still seeing them?"
"No."
America turned away to hide his grin. "That's too bad."
"Hey, there you are!" A tall figure posed in the doorway, then came striding in and swept America into a hug before kissing him soundly. "We've got a date to go on!"
England blinked. "Er. Denmark is your date?"
"That's right." America leaned his head on the other nation's shoulder.
"Denmark?"
"Yup."
England looked down at his mug, then back up at the pair. "Denmark?"
"Come, kære," the Nordic man said with a grin. "We apparently broke his brain. Let's leave him alone before we do serious damage."
"In a moment." America tugged him close for another kiss, enjoying the spluttering noises his ex was making
"Do you even have anything in common?" England demanded.
"Of course we do! We like a lot of the same foods, and movies, and activities, and we laugh at the same jokes, and... he's the most southern Nordic country, and I'm the most southern North American!"
"Mexico!"
America waved a dismissive hand. "Between me and Canada, then."
England groaned. "Go on your date, idiot."
"Okay. See you around!" America waved, and the couple swept out into the chilly night. It was a lovely, clear night, and would have had plenty of romantic twinkling stars if not for the city lights, but they could do that some other time. "Do you think I was too mean? I just want to make him jealous, not hate me."
Denmark shrugged. "Worry about him later. Tonight, you're all mine!"
"Okay!" America clung to his arm as they walked, down the middle of the sidewalk. Passersby heading in the opposite direction gave them annoyed looks as they stepped aside. "Where do you want to go?"
"There's a movie I would like to see."
"To the movie theater!"
They were quite the sight when they exited the vast, neon building a couple hours later. Denmark appeared pleased, but America was plastered against him, eyes wide and teeth chattering.
"Oh God," America moaned. "D-did you see that? Th-the gh-ghost possessed him and he k-k-killed people and their ghosts came back, and..."
"I'm so sorry, skat," Denmark said, holding the other man close with a protective arm. "I completely forgot that you don't like that sort of movie!"
"D-don't be silly. I'm a hero. I have to watch those movies."
"I understand."
"But you have to stay with me tonight!"
"I won't leave your side!" And Denmark would have to thank America's brother what's-his-name for the handy tip on scary movies. He wasn't grateful enough to, say, relinquish Hans Island, but he'd think of something nice. "Want to go drinking, kære?"
"Mm. I don't know what you keep calling me, but everything you say sounds so sexy!"
"Jeg vil ha din krop."
"Aww. I'm sure that was very sweet."
Among the crowd exiting the theater, Denmark happened to spy a familiar couple. One was short and slender. The other was quite tall, and creating a wide berth for them with his intimidating stare.
"Come on!"
"Hmm? Where to?" America asked.
"There's Sweden and Finland!"
America peered in the direction Denmark pointed. "Oh yeah, I see them. You want to talk to them?"
"No! We made out for England, now let's go make out for them!"
"You used to date one of them?"
Denmark laughed. "No. But look at them, always acting like the hot couple. I want to prove them wrong. We're way hotter."
"Works for me." They casually stationed themselves near the oblivious couple, wrapped their arms around each other, and kissed. Denmark immediately forgot the purpose of their little make-out session, demanding entrance with his tongue that America eagerly granted. He still tasted of popcorn and soda, but damn if he didn't make it sexy.
"Hi, guys!" Finland's voice did not sound envious at all. He hid it well, apparently.
Denmark pulled away, grinning at the little gasp for air America made. "Oh, Finland, I didn't see you there! How the hell are you?"
"We're good. Is that America with you?"
"That's me!" America waved. "Hi, Finland. Sweden."
"I didn't know you were together! But, um, why were you kissing in the middle of everyone trying to walk?"
Denmark just shrugged, grinning. "Oh, you know. Sometimes the mood just hits you..."
Finland returned the shrug with one of his own. "Be careful if the mood hits you in the middle of the street, at least." He waved. "Well, good night, you two!" Sweden nodded their way, too, before the pair walked off.
"Night," America and Denmark chimed.
"I guess that didn't work," America said. "They didn't seem to care."
"Oh, they did," Denmark assured him. "That's why they left in such a hurry."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Well... I kinda liked what we were doing to impress them." America grinned at him.
"I know." Denmark wrapped an arm around him again as they resumed their walk. "All in good time." He wondered if they should just call it a night and return to America's place, but this time his mind prevailed over other insistent parts of his body. He didn't know how long they would have together before duty would call them away (or, even worse, America ended up back with his ex...) and he wanted the night to be perfect. But instead of just drinking, he had a better idea. The way to a nation's heart was through his stomach, so dinner was next! "Let's find a nice place to eat."
"Great!"
"And maybe tomorrow we can go dancing or something."
"Ah... I can't." America's grin fell and he stared at the sidewalk. "Work."
Denmark's heart sank. I knew it... "Work, huh?"
"I'm going with my boss to visit some foreign countries."
"Well, that's not so bad!"
"I don't think they like me too much..."
Denmark blinked in surprise. Not so much by the statement—a lot of nations didn't like America too much—but the simple fact that he admitted to such a thing. He seemed like the type to insist that the world loved him. Seeing the adorable yet awesome superpower looking vulnerable made something bubble up inside Denmark. He wanted to hunt down those that were upsetting America with his axe and... Okay, so starting a war for America wasn't the most romantic gesture ever. Or was it? Well, maybe later.
"Of course they don't," Denmark soothed. "You'd be doing something wrong otherwise!"
America's gave him a look that rapidly morphed from annoyed to confused. "What?"
"Any idiot can coast through life without pissing anybody off! All great rulers and nations and celebrities are disliked by someone."
"I guess so." America chuckled, and leaned his head against Denmark again. It felt nice. "You're the only one of the Nordics who's continued to fully support me."
"And I always will! Well, uh, unless the others support you more. You know what I mean."
"Aww..." America smiled. "And you know? You've been nice to me for longer than any other nation."
"Really?"
America nodded. "Longer than my brother, even!" He pointed suddenly. "That's a good place, let's eat there!"
They soon found themselves smiling at each other over the tops of their menus. It was a nice place, filled with couples and candlelight and other cheesy things. As they waited, America requested a lesson in Danish cuisine, so he obliged and described some of his favorite dishes. On a role, America next requested a list of Danish holidays and celebrations, as partying was something he said he enjoyed.
"We have a lot of the same holidays as you!" Denmark said with a grin, then tasted his beer. Not bad, for American beer. "Easter, April Fool's, Halloween, Christmas..." He winked. "And of course, we've got the Rebild Festival." He knew that would be a favorite of America's! But he was surprised by the other nation's blank stare.
"The what?"
"You haven't heard of that?" Denmark exclaimed. "I thought for sure you had!"
"Nope, never heard of it. When is it?"
"July fourth, of course!"
America picked up his own drink with a smile. "That's my birthday!"
"I know! That's what we celebrate."
America's eyes widened and it looked like he almost lost his grip on his drink. "You celebrate my birthday in your country?"
"Sure! Both our flags are raised, and—are you crying!?" Denmark mentally scrambled around for a handle on the situation. He had no idea how to deal with crying people!
"Of course not. Heroes don't cry. But that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard..." America sniffled. "What else happens?"
"Well, there's a big celebration, and people make speeches about the bonds between our countries, and-"
"It sounds like a wedding!"
Denmark coughed on his beer. He hadn't thought of it that way. "It does, kind of, doesn't it. I still can't believe you haven't heard of it before!"
"Me either..." America reached a hand over and placed it on Denmark's. Denmark glanced down at it, then back up to stare at the nation across from him, with smooth tanned skin and golden hair that made him think of frolicking in a field for some reason, and he'd never frolicked in a field before. And blue eyes like a summer sky, partially hidden behind the candlelight reflected in his glasses. It was only after America gave him a questioning look that Denmark realized he was gawking at him with a goofy grin on his face. "Oh, sorry, just thinking. Uh, of a joke Norway told me!"
"What joke?"
"It wouldn't make any sense in English!"
They ate their meals when they arrived, then shared a dessert of fancy ice cream. Assuming 'share' meant 'duel with spoons over the last few bites'. Denmark had to laugh at America's appearance afterward. "You've got ice cream on your face."
"Oops." America wiped his mouth off with his napkin. He missed a spot near the corner of his mouth, so Denmark casually leaned over to lick it clean. "Ah..." America swallowed. "Want to get out of here?"
"Yes!"
It was a challenge making it to the bedroom from the front door, seeing as how they were already plastered against each other, shedding articles of clothing as they went. But they managed without killing themselves, though America had a feeling his shin was going to sport a nice bruise for a while. By the time they safely reached the bed, both wore only their pants and were covered in love marks.
"Well." Denmark grinned. "Last time was a frenzied drunken romp. Shall we try for gentle tonight?"
"Sure, gentle," America agreed, wishing for the millionth time he could actually remember that drunken romp. He settled onto the bed, pulling Denmark down on top of him. His Danish lover propped himself up on elbows and simply gazed down at him, blue eyes sparkling. "What?" America asked after a moment.
"I was just thinking."
"Foreign jokes again?"
Denmark leaned down until his lips were touching America's ear. "Jeg elsker dig."
"What does that mean?"
"I love you."
America felt warmth pool in his chest, and spread to outlying regions. "Really? We've only been on one date."
"And you loved me after our first night together."
Oh yeah. His accidental confession... But looking up into that handsome, sincere face, America didn't think he should feel guilty about saying that anymore, regardless of the circumstances that prompted it. "Right. I love you, too." This time, he knew exactly to whom he was speaking.
Translations (hopefully, feel free to correct me):
Kære – dear
Skat – darling/dear/sweetheart/etc. Literally means 'treasure'
Jeg vil ha din krop – I want your body (he was just teasing, really!)
The more I look into Danish-American history and relations, the more it seems like a plausible rather than crack pairing! They so sweet. :D
So, the various historical-ish things that were mentioned:
- Hans Island is a teeny, 0.5 mile long uninhabited chunk of rock that Canada and Denmark fight over. You guuuys...
- Denmark was the only Nordic country that fully supported the US during the invasion of Iraq in '03, and the other... stuff since then.
- Denmark has had longer uninterrupted diplomatic relations with the US than any other country - since 1801.
- The Rebild Festival occurs every July 4th in Denmark's Rebild National Park, and is believed to be the largest 4th of July celebration outside the US.
