"He's so cold, yaknow? Well, I guess you do know. He is your brother, after all."
Iceland crossed his arms and kept his face carefully still. How had he ended up in this situation? One moment he was crouched in the hallway, delicately dangling a tiny fish over Puffy's open beak, and the next he was suddenly being complained at by an overly emotional Dane.
Damn it.
"I just wanna cuddle him and watch that grumpy look melt off his face," Denmark continued, not noticing that the smaller man had a bit of a grumpy look himself. "But he won't let me! Every time I try to get close, he hits me! I have bruises all over…"
If he didn't shut up soon he was going to get a few more.
Denmark had always been overly concerned with Norway's wellbeing. He was a rough man, and clueless, but always ready to fly to Norway's defense, whether the stone-faced nation needed it or not. Iceland remembered the moment he had realized that Denmark was only protecting him to score points with his big brother. His lavender eyes flickered to the large man's face, and he couldn't hide the scowl growing on his face.
The selfish man was still whining.
As time had gone on, Denmark, never exactly subtle, had let his feelings become more and more blatant. Whereas before he had focused on bringing the Nordics back to his house as a family, now his pleading was addressed solely to Norway. These days, when he greeted Iceland's brother, his overly enthusiastic exclamations were more often than not coupled with a huge bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. Iceland got a handshake, if he was remembered.
The pale boy shook such thoughts out of his head; moping wouldn't get him anywhere. He glanced over at the bear of a man. At some point during Iceland's inattention, he had gone from "Why doesn't Norge love me" to "these are all the reasons I love Norge". Iceland sighed. He knew that the Dane could ramble on and on about this, for hours if need be.
He looked away, fixing his gaze on the wall opposite. Lying was so much harder when he had to look at that open, earnest face.
"Big brother…I am certain big brother cares about you." He mumbled, the empty words hanging in the air between them like smoke, for just a moment. Once was sure his expression was as blank as he'd practiced it to be, he glanced over at Denmark.
Oh. He was smiling. He was downright grinning, his eyes glowing with happiness. "Really?"
Not trusting himself against that damn smile he nodded, scowling.
Denmark reached over and ruffled his hair, large fingers mussing the combed-flat grey locks, and Iceland couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut, leaning his head into the warmth of his hand. It was gone almost immediately, much to his relief and disappointment.
"You're amazing, Ice!"
Yes, lying to him for hundreds of years. Amazing. Iceland glared down at the floor.
"I'm gonna go find him! Thanks!"
And Denmark was gone.
Iceland reached up, threading his fingers into his hair. His hand was small and cold and nothing like Denmark's.
Puffy, at his feet, hummed and rubbed black wings against his boots. The pale boy bent down to pick him up.
He was being silly again, that was all.