Iceland stood outside of the office building where world meetings usually took place in Denmark's country. He was cold, with ripped pieces of latex on his face, body paint smeared on his face and his hair and skin stained with stage blood. He looked back at where the haunted house was, stragglers that helped work it were wandering around waiting for their rides. The teen looked at his phone and sighed. He had to as it was getting dark. While he unlocked his phone, another 'nation' walked up to him.

"Tired?" Hong Kong asked, his hair disheveled and most of his skin was stained with stage blood. The European nation nodded, shutting his eyes and stifling a yawn.

"Sooo tired, you?" He opened his eyes and occasionally glanced his way, focusing mostly on typing in a phone number.

"I'm dead tired— oh, ha ha." Nice going, Hong Kong. Iceland uncharacteristically stifled a laugh, which prompted Hong Kong to look at him questioningly.

"That tired, huh? You never laugh at my awful jokes."

Iceland held up his hands while he gingerly held his phone up to his ear. His hair was a bright red in most places and from the centre to his bangs were a deep, wet looking maroon. "Uh, c-can you give me a ride to yer house? I'm sorta stranded and covered in costume shit. Yep, alright, I'll be here. See ya."

"Who'd you call— never mind." It took a while, but Hong Kong remembered whose house he was in. "I could've like, given you a ride."

"Nah, it's fine. I sorta wanted to check in with him anyways." Iceland shrugged and yawned, feeling his bloodied body going weaker in the cold climate. Hong Kong shifted feet, yawning right after him.

"I'll stay here with you, I don't mind. I need to like, complain to someone about Germany though."

For about ten minutes, Iceland stood with Hong Kong while he complained at length about Germany's temper and how he had poured stage blood until everyone was soaked. Germany should've had better things to do than to practically baptize them with fake blood all night in the haunted house. He had to stop his friend's complaining however when he caught sight of a sleek black Hyundai.

"Hey, there he is. I, uh, need to get going," He awkwardly explained, gesturing to the car whilst backing away towards it. Hong Kong snickered, turning away as well to head back inside to the warmth.

"See ya, nerd."

"Oi! Sh-shut it!"

Iceland quickly made his way to the car, hesitating to get inside it however. He was still soaked in blood, seriously who wants that in their car? He shoved it to the back of his mind, instead hoping that Denmark would forgive him for the blood. The teen slipped into the luxe interior, already anticipating the Dane to scold him on his state and that he had entered his car like that.

He was about to too.

The large man's face momentarily tensed with irritation until he caught subtle things that alluded to the teen's exhaustion. Iceland felt miserable and to Denmark he looked that way too. Instead, Denmark reverted to his gentle demeanour and one of his hands went up to brush hair out of Iceland's face.

"Long day?" he asked, his tone of voice softer than it usually was. Iceland gingerly nodded, shutting his eyes and sinking further into the car seat. Denmark had faint traces of stage blood in his hand now, but the way Iceland shrank forced him not to register it. "C'mon, you can stay with me tonight."

"Okay…" Iceland mumbled, trying to curl up into a ball in his seat. He usually spent the night, but never really stayed.

"Hey."

"..."

"Seatbelt."

"Oh… right."

When Denmark pulled into his driveway, he honestly expected his companion to be asleep. He didn't expect Iceland to be so tired he actually sang to "G.U.Y." (Denmark loved the way she sang period).

"Touch me touch me don't be shy, I'm in charge like a G.U.Y.—"

"Icy, we're home.

"We aaaare?"

"That tired, huh?"

"Yer like, the third person to ask me that."

Well, at least Iceland was partially correct. Laughing, Denmark slipped out of the front seat while his passenger tried making himself comfortable in his seat. Denmark wasn't going to have that, obviously. He opened the passenger door and leaned over the young adult to undo his seatbelt. He awkwardly positioned his arms so he could help wriggle Iceland out of the seat somehow, which the nation was more than happy complying with. Iceland sat in Denmark's arms bridal style, nuzzling against his face contentedly.

"...Have fun?"

"Yeah… thanks fer coming earlier…"

"Of course! God, ya make a horrifying nurse. Ya practically scared the piss out of Nor!"

Iceland shut his eyes and softly smiled. His sense was coming back, and his tiredness was causing him to feel even more subdued. The two were inside faster than Iceland expected, until he figured that Denmark didn't lock his house this time around.

"You can just set me on the couch…"

"No. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. When was the last time ya ate?"

"I had a bag of chips a few hours ago…"

He nodded softly, giving in to his previous request and setting Iceland down on the couch in a sitting position. The Dane ran off somewhere whilst Iceland stretched out his aching muscles. When Denmark returned, he held a reasonably sized container filled with hot water and set it by Iceland's feet.

Said nation was pretty off guard.

"W-what are you—"

"Feet."

Iceland cautiously lifted a foot, which Denmark swiftly rid of its sock and untied shoe before placing it into the water. His body shivered when he felt the pleasant temperature change, and complied when Denmark asked for his other foot. The older nation rose and leaned over to grab the blanket he kept on his couch, everything comforting, warm, and vintage compared to his car. Immediately it went around the young man, which prompted him to conflict between shrinking further or thanking Denmark.

He did both.

"Ah, um… T-Tak…" he stuttered out, shrinking back into the couch and holding the blanket closer. Denmark nodded understandingly, then walking off to the kitchen.

Iceland watched the water and realised that he had stage blood deeply stained into the bottoms of his feet when it turned a faint pink. He dragged his feet along the bottom over and over until most of the water was much pinker than before. He didn't hear the clinks in the kitchen and the microwave going off. He didn't notice that Denmark had reentered the room until he was given a plate of leftover frikkadeller and potatoes, utensils, and a glass of ice water.

"Eat."

Iceland was about to refuse on the grounds that Denmark didn't need to be so overly kind to him until his stomach betrayed him by growling. Instead, he hesitantly took the plate onto his lap and utensils in hand and Denmark placed the glass on a side table. The older nation studied him for a second before smiling softly.

"Need help getting that crud off yer face?"

"Yeah, Germany gave me a bottle of makeup remover to help take it off."

"He did?"

Iceland nodded. Although he could be strict during world meetings and positively awful with socialising, Germany could be one of the nicer people Iceland knew. He fretted over Iceland, complaining that the makeup artist did an awful job applying the latex and causing it to adhere to his face awkwardly. He had to take care of another unfortunate soul with a similar problem, so he was under the care of Italy who apologised greatly whenever he felt like he was too rough removing the latex. He didn't know though if it was from the exhausting hours or if he just felt sorry but Italy surprisingly didn't talk much, he just looked like a tired mom taking care of a child. Iceland told Denmark this as best as he could with his (although he'd absolutely never admit this) favourite food in his mouth. What could he say, he loved the Dane's cooking, even if it made him feel that his cholesterol was rising with every bite.

Denmark smiled, making a few comments here and there. Denmark disappeared for a while, leaving Iceland to eat away at the plate of food. After a while, Denmark came back and he chose to sit next to Iceland, picking off the latex from his hair and face. One time he pulled awkwardly and got his hand covered with stage blood from what was left in his hair, which he extensively complained about.

"Oooooh it feels groooooss."

"Deal wif it."

Iceland could try all he wants, but when his mouth was filled with frikkadeller he just lost a certain amount of attitude. When he was finished eating, Denmark promptly took his stuff away (sans the water) and left a rather awkward nation on the couch. When he came back, his blood covered hand went up around his back and the other under his knees to pick the smaller nation up.

"C'mon, you need a bath."

Normally, Iceland would've protested. He would've vehemently protested his closest friend helping him bathe of all things. In this instance, Iceland was weakened by a combination of his own exhaustion and the Dane's immense kindness. So, Iceland let him carry him to an already filled and warm bathtub. Denmark set Iceland down as gently as he could've on his feet in front of the tub. Although at first he hesitated, Iceland quickly shed his pants and jacket, desperately wanting to feel clean. He stopped at his shirt, and gave a warning glance to Denmark, who cocked an eyebrow. Stripping his shirt off, the younger nation revealed a vast expanse of a burn scar on most of his torso and back. Denmark, obviously surprised and entranced, reached out to touch him. He wasn't having that however, and jerked back with a yelp.

"Aah, sorry…"

"I-It's fine, just… don't do that again…" Without his consent first at least.

Denmark nodded before looking expectantly at the almost naked nation. Iceland's face turned as red as the Dannebrog when he realised he had to take his underwear off. His logic was as followed:

Well, if he saw the burn scar, then seeing Iceland naked was no big deal. Denmark was probably going to coddle him anyways, so what was the point?

He quickly slipped off his boxers before rushing into the freestanding tub, his pale skin turned red all over. It wasn't from the embarrassment, but rather the stage blood. Iceland groaned, sinking while he rubbed his arm under water to remove the blood. The comfortingly warm water made him feel subdued and rather stupid, which caused much of his common sense to leave. (However, is it really common sense when it's Iceland's view of common sense?)

Denmark was behind him, his shirt off and all of his muscles revealed. Iceland was totally not going to look, nope. It was proven moot when Denmark dipped a hand into the bathwater to help Iceland rinse the blood out of his hair. He used his favourite shampoo on Iceland and even went so far as to completely clean Iceland's face while he tackled the blood on his body. All while Denmark did this, Iceland stole glances at Denmark's chest and arms and how he got water on him and—

"Icy, whaaaat are ya starin' at?" Denmark teased, smirking and cocking an eyebrow.

"O-Oh, fuck I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to—" he stammered, his face heating up. He turned his head away, refusing to look Denmark's way at all. Wow, it's almost as if Denmark could totally take advantage of Iceland at this point.

He did, in a way.

Gingerly, Denmark took this time to place an awkward two gentle fingers on an edge of the burn scar, prompting Iceland to look back at him. Denmark didn't break his gaze and instead his face shifted almost to ask, "Can I go further?"

Iceland reluctantly nodded, his face flushed. Denmark ran his fingers gently over the skin, feeling the bumps and valleys that had formed. Unconsciously, Denmark whispered out something along the lines of, "Yer still so beautiful…"

Which aren't exactly the right words to say to your best friend while you're helping him clean himself in your own tub.

In this case, they were exactly the right words to say to your best friend who absolutely needed that reassurance.

To Denmark's surprise, Iceland wrapped himself tightly around the Dane. He practically started crying into his shoulder while he gripped onto him. Denmark survived the initial shock and quickly wrapped his arms around Iceland, nuzzling his face to his head. "T-ak…"

"Of course."

Once Iceland was promptly taken out and wrapped in two towels (he was particularly bratty with that), he was carried across the hall carefully and slowly. His face was once again nuzzled against Denmark's cheek, and the faintest smile existed on his face. He felt like he needed to show his gratitude, but he was started to lose time to do that.

"C'mon, let's put ya to bed."

A few moments now.

"I'll take ya to yer room, which I can't call the guest room anymore because yer the only one that uses it."

Now or never, Iceland.

Instead of a verbal response, Iceland nudged Denmark's face gently whilst making a noise. Puzzled and expecting the teen to be playful, Denmark turned his face to him.

He wasn't expecting a feather soft kiss.

His steps faltered and suddenly Denmark felt like a schoolgirl whose senpai noticed her. His cheeks flushed and he started giggling up a storm. "Um, w-why don't you stay in my room? J-just for tonight?"

"Sure…"

Thankfully, Denmark stopped right in front of his room. He buried himself and Iceland as well into the covers. He was snuggled close against him, his signature smile even wider and happier. Iceland's faint smile was a small and real one now. Iceland cracked an eye and studied the Dane. Without a sound, he leaned upwards and planted a firm kiss on his chin, as he couldn't reach any other part of his face. Denmark opened his eyes slightly and looked down, his cheeks pink and his smile almost splitting his face.

"Tak."

"Ingen årsag."

Iceland was never so glad he stayed.