Anonymous sent: How about some SuFin, modern time, an accidental love confession on Swedens part when Finland feels down/or does something really cute. Like... literally he's juts sitting there thinking how much he loves Finland and then it just slips out?

Basically my fill for the above prompt, posted on my tumblr.

WARNINGS:
- long notes sorry
- abuse of the word "and" because Sweden is stuck on a loop and "and" is the best word to show repetitive thinking
- Denmark has inappropriatequestions
- my spellcheck is being weird and keeps thinking i'm typing in Spanish so spelling and grammar might be a fail .

NOTES:
- The Arctic Council are actually having a meeting about that on the third of december this year, in Reyjavik. the council lasts four days, and finishes on thursday the sixth. Technically they wouldn't arrive home until the seventh, but let's say they only had to attend three days, or something.
- they're both speaking their respective languages in this, so Sweden can talk fine, because Swedish is a language he's comfortable with and knows inside out. However, I ended up writing "ruotsi" every time Finland says 'Sweden', "Tan" when he is refering to Denmark (short of 'Tanska', as seen in the drama CD) and "Sanmark" when Sweden is refering to Denmark. Not sure why, but hey-ho.

If there was ever a time that Sweden felt out of his depth, it was moments like this. When his heart was pounding and his mind was running away with itself and he was acting like nothing more than a teenage girl with a crush on that cute guy who sits near to you in class. You know the one who acts nice and you over-interpret his every movement?

And it was happening again. The ex-Viking, Lion of the North, one time terror of Europe… was acting like a teenage girl.

Of course, with Finland involved, it was probably to be expected.

The smaller blond was flitting around the kitchen, sorting things out and trying his hardest not to mess something up, as he was a guest in Sweden's house and wouldn't want to intrude. If Finland had had his way, he wouldn't have stayed with Sweden, rather going to find some cheap hotel that where he could hole up until the flight the next morning. But the Swede wasn't going to let him stay somewhere else when he was right there.

The meeting had been horrible. It was only small - the Arctic nations, being required to visit Reykjavik for a meeting on sustainable development and shipping capacity in the Arctic - but when you're stuck agreeing with your worst enemy, your worst nightmare, and your biggest crush all at once, things get a little overwhelming.

Needless to say, when Iceland had suggested they all spend some time together before they flew home, Sweden was not thrilled. It only meant another hour or so with an over-excited Denmark, which was not fun. Plus, an exhausted Norway, who had been pushed into staying the night before with said over-excited Dane (along with his younger brother) and was now ready to kill the horrible blond. And, of course, Iceland, whose pseudo-grown-up nature meant he could never decide how to act, and ever moment was like a guessing game.

And then there was Finland. Finland, who could be called the sanity of the Nordics. Finland, who was the only one of them with any semblance of social skills. Finland, who could be nothing if not Sweden's saviour.

Finland, who was now blushing bright red as he tried to ignore the conversation from the hour before hand.

Sometimes Denmark was both a blessing and a curse. Before the five had split up to return home, he'd asked the wonderful question that probably should come up more often when five men are involved.

"So… Anyone had any recently?"

Not really surprising, none of them really answer. Iceland shot him a weird look, Norway scoffed, and Finland went red, stuttering out quickly that that was no how the phrase worked and Denmark might want to check his grammar.

But the look on his face as he reacted to the question was one of the most enchanting things Sweden had ever seen. It was not only a reminder of the dozens of things that had happened during his life with Finland, but of all of the changes that made him so proud of his family.

"Ruotsi…?" Finland asked, making the Sweden jump out of his thoughts and back into the room. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

He nodded, going back to stirring the yellow pea soup on the stove. It was Thursday. And pea soup was always good on a Thursday.

In the back of his mind, he could hear the debates that he and his former wife had had about food, back when they were one nation and had thought of themselves as the strongest nations in Europe.

"I- it was good to see the others, wasn't it? Even if it was for a meeting. I love visiting Iceland - it's like going back to somewhere in the past! He's lucky to have so much nature still around him. But, I guess we all do, don't we? That's what people know Scandinavia for, and why they wanted to come and see our land. Oh, wow, that was a long time ago. Do you remember? We never saw each other much, then, but oh well."

The nonchalant nature of the comment was a little disorientating, but Sweden tried not to smile and nodded again. When a nation got caught up in their own past, it was a sight to behold; with someone you knew as well as you knew yourself, it was something else. Their eyes would flicker in a way a human's didn't, as they more or less relived the event, memories as clear as ever without time to ruin them.

Beautiful. He was beautiful.

As Finland shook his head, returning to the present, he started to himself to remove the silence (something which he hated, though Sweden didn't know why), the older of the two resided himself once again to observing his memories, and his close friend, who seemed to be back to normal now. Not red and blushing the way he was before, but with a pink tint on his cheeks as the ancient song the two had sang together, slipped little words into his mouth and there was nothing more that he wanted to do than reach forward and touch him, in the most innocent sense of the word. Touch him and hold him and make himself familiar with the boy he had grown up with and the man he had not yet met. He wanted to learn why he was so happy and what made him feel down and how to remedy it. Why there was a pill bottle tucked in his bag. Why he avoided alcohol like the plague. How he pulled off his innocence and managed to keep himself whole and happy despite being torn apart again and again in a way most nations would never survive!

And most importantly he wanted to know him as a human. He wanted to know that little part of them that desired a steady life, and a loving partner, and a family and a job doing something they love and all of those things little things that nations could never do without falling into problems and getting into trouble.

He wanted to be the one to give Finland all of that. But he knew it was impossible.

Muttered words in lyrical Finnish caught his ears, but Sweden just let himself settle into the flow of the song and ignore all of the rest. Sometimes it was just easier to let your mind run away with itself, rather can keep calm and control.

Sadly, it became obvious that food would need to be served quickly, otherwise the soup would become burnt and while it had never happened before, Sweden had no desire to find out what burnt soup tasted like. Or what it would be like to clean up.

As Finland took the two bows over to the table, he smiled up at the taller nation in a way that could only ever make his heart flutter.

Grabbing the rye bread he had gratefully remembered, Sweden made himself follow into the next room, knowing that everything would already be in the other room, thanks to the wonderful attentiveness of the little Finn sitting opposite.

The conversation started pretty quickly, and the dynamic fell into place soon after. Sweden rarely spoke, and while he enjoyed the quiet, listening to Finland's little rambling stories and quick comments were sweeter than he could imagine. This was what he missed when they were called apart for work, and what he felt so jealous of humans for having.

The two violet eyes never left him, except for the odd moment when Finland decided that making himself a mess would not be a good plan, and chose to actually look at where his food was. The quick Finnish was understandable with ease for the Swede, however, so he had little to worry about in that way. Any Swedish replies (which were few and far between) were simple and Finland picked up without a second thought.

Topic changes were easy as well, when someone like the blond was there. His mind flitted about, unlike Sweden's, which remained tacked onto his whirring emotions (Finland was adorable when he was in his own little world, getting all flustered and messing his words up before biting his lip).

Unluckily, topics were not very interesting when you knew everything about the other's culture.

"So, Ruotsi…" Finland muttered, as his glanced up again, nearly finished eating. "Did you enjoy seeing the others yesterday? It was weird, wasn't it - it's been far too long since we all managed to meet up and properly talk! But… I've said that already… You never told me what you thought. I guess Tan was just being too annoying?"

"It was good," he said with a shrug. "Danmark is Danmark. He's never not annoying."

Finland laughed (a light sound that made his heart jump and Sweden had to force himself not to react because that would be too embarrassing). "Yes, I suppose so. Still, it was good to catch up with them! Though… I wish he hadn't asked that damn question…" he huffed to himself, starting to go red in the face. "Oh, why was I stupid enough to say anything? I've never been good at staying quiet, but it would have been better than sitting their like an idiot and correcting his grammar! I just… Ah, perkele!" he snapped towards the end, burying his face in his hands.

Oh. Oh. Well, that wasn't expected. Since when did people look cute swearing? That made no sense. It was something Sweden didn't do yet when Finland did it he wanted to laugh and hug him and make it all better! He could just see how red Finland's cheeks were getting and could hear the odd muttering he was still not used to. He was adorable, especially with his head tipped forward and his fringe tucked awkwardly in his hands, making the rest of his hair lie messily across the parting. It shouldn't have looked good but it was almost impossible for it not to.

The Finn groaned, peeking between too fingers. Violet eyes locked with blue, and Finland choked a little before hiding his face, curling up a little more so he was closer to the table. By God, he was adorable.

"Fin…" he said, trying to make the other look up again. Which he did, if not a little sheepishly. Running a hand through his hair, Finland tried to calm himself down. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to say something, before he once again freaked.

"Ohya! I'm such an idiot and Ruotsi! Help!"

Sweden chuckled to himself, watching as the Finn bit his lip, shaking his head in a way that made his hair even more unruly. His cheeks were still painted red, and it was getting worse with every second the Swede accidentally scrutinised him.

He was fed up. All he could think was that little man - even smaller than Finland was now, still in the process of growing and developing - sitting on the table in front of him, shirt off because once again he'd managed to fight with Norway, or Denmark, or just some nameless man who'd called him a woman, and was covered in scratches and scrapes that would need tending in the hope of stopping infection. It was probably Kalmar, if his memory served him correctly, and Finland would not yet look him in the eye; he wouldn't for many more years. But they would help each other, even though Finland was no more than a stable boy in the eyes of the monarchy and the nobility, while Sweden was important and held highly by his people, even when the Danish queen felt the need to call him out and call him useless.

Finland had been no more than a boy until the days after Kalmar, which had given him strength and freedom, even within an Empire. And even then, just as now, he was beautiful beyond recognition. Not that anyone would ever tell him, because he was considered to be Sweden's duty then, and no one wanted to get on his bad side now.

But to manage to love him and hold him again, without the relationship marred by war and jealousy… Because pale blond and bright violet were the only colours Sweden recognised, with the stark white and regal blue that made up Finland. He was the adorable, heart-warming character that had so much yet so little to him, that he couldn't help but fall head over heels and now he was making it worse by thinking that, stuck staring at the other nation with sea-like eyes.

Oh, to be able to tell him. To be able to say what he was thinking. To be able to think and breath and live what he wanted, with whom he wanted. With Finland. Because… because he wanted to say it. Jag älskar dig. Min rakastan sinua.

"I love you."

No. No, no, NO! Sweden jolted in his mind as he felt his lips move, because no that was not meant to be happening. Not now. Not like this. Romantically and calmly and with them both knowing what was coming - not sitting opposite each other at the table, with Finland nervously fidgeting and him not paying attention.

For a minute, it looked like Finland was going to say something, with his mouth open and say something, but then he didn't.

Instead, he stood up. Sweden screwed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see, or hear, what would inadvertently happen next.

There was the scrape of a chair, and the sound of feet, but he tuned it out as much as possible. If Finland was walking away, Sweden wouldn't blame him.

Pressure. Not the feeling, but physically pressure, against his cheek. Soft, slight, for a millisecond. But he knew what it was.

His eyes flickered open for a minute, and he turned to ask why Finland was doing that, when he found he couldn't speak, lips forced shut because, hang on a minute, Finland was kissing him and he was kissing back.

And then the other Nordic moved away, and Sweden blinked to himself. Finland had moved to sit back down at the other side of the table, before taking one of the pieces of rye bread and starting to talk again. Moving himself so he was sitting straight again, and looking at the Finn, Sweden placed his hands on the table and just stared.

And if it wasn't for the fingers that wrapped around his, he would probably have said it was a daydream.