Look whose beta-reader is being awesome and handing you the last chapter!

Both Denmark and Finland turned around the second they heard the familiar but unexpected voice. They both knew who it was before they laid eye on him but seeing Norway stand in the doorway to the dining room was a surprise. He looked… awful. Annoyed as always, sure, but also oddly tired (were that black bags under his eyes?) and exhausted. There was no way that the lighting could be blamed for the way his hair looked ruffled and his eyes red.

The air was tense between them as Denmark and Norway stared at each other with undeterminable expressions and Finland looked from one to another, fidgeting with a hemof his shirt. It seemed like almost five minutes they just sat and stood there, waiting for one of the others to break the silence. It was only done when Tino scrambled to his feet, quickly and hurriedly taking the plates, glasses and cutlery into the kitchen, whereupon he grabbed his coat from the hook and dashed into the entrance. Stopping halfway, he turned around to look back, about to say something.

Norway shot him a glare that got him to be on his way again.

When the door slammed shut, he once more laid eyes on Denmark who hadn't moved an inch.

"Virkelig?" he repeated in the same commanding tone, aggressively pulling off his jacket and throwing it unto the hook before marching fully into the dining room. "You don't need me anymore, huh?"

It took a moment for the perplexed Denmark to find a proper response but when he did, he leant back in his chair, crossed his arms and legs and withdrew his feet under the chair. His aura was hostile even if his posture showed nervousness.

"Yeah, that's right. I don't need you anymore. I have learnt a thing or two in the last three weeks." His voice was cold and hard, but his eyes wide and his heart thumping rapidly in his chest, as if trying to force its way out.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Like what? Like how to deal with your drinking problem?"

"It's not a 'problem'," Denmark argued with a sour tone and crossed his arms tighter. Norway stood in front of the table and stared down at him, his blue eyes as dull as ever though they had… a shine of something that Denmark was not used to see. Something like exhaustion, maybe? "There's nothing wrong with enjoying a few cold beers every now and then."

"You drink that alcoholic piss every hour of every day," Norway snarled. "Tell me, what have you learned? I'm interested." But everything about him told the exact opposite. His posture was hostile and his voice cold as ice.

"It's none of your damn business. You're not my boss, I don't have any obligation to tell you anything."

"Trust me, I'm happy not to be your boss. I'm not sure I could get you to do anything."

"Are you fucking kidding me? If anyone should be able to make me do anything, it would have been you. But I guess I don't matter shit to you. That's nothing new, of course, I'm used to that by now. Go on, what else were you going to yell at me?"

Norway stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and surprise in his dull eyes, though this was quickly removed and frustration took over. At one point, it was amazing to see so many emotions suddenly appearing in the usually expressionless face.

"Fine. I'm sure you've learned how to drink a bottle of vodka in less than ten minutes, you've probably learnt how to sleep in snow without freezing your dick off, and I don't doubt that you found the lessons about partying in a nightclub full of hot and young women the best but what about the things that matter?"

When Norway finished raging – which was done in a surprisingly, but intimidatingly low voice – Denmark just blinked. He was not really sure what was the most shocking – that Norway had said 'dick' or the fact that he showed anxiety about 'the things that matter'.

It took him a few moments to find the use of his tongue again.

"Like what?"

"Like you and me, you shitty asshat! Haven't you been thinking of me at all? Haven't you thought about how to fix this?" He was so upset that he apparently didn't notice how he had just revealed his own anxiety and desperation for their relationship. Without realizing it himself, he had shown utmost nervousness about the thought that maybe Denmark hadn't been thinking about him at all.

His hands were on the table, white and shivering the tiniest bit. The veins were slightly more visible than usually. His breathing was hard and rugged as he stood there, pinning Denmark to the spot with his eyes. The stare was intense and even though it didn't show in his body language, Norway was desperate. He was so desperate to get Denmark to understand without having to say too many words.

Denmark looked away, his gaze downcast. He had been thinking about Norway, of course he had, how dare the man suggest otherwise? Every day had been a fight because he had not been there, every day had been a fight because Denmark couldn't call him and give in like that. All thanks to his stupid pride.

This seemed to only fuel Norway's rage.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he demanded loudly and his hands were balled into fists.

"That's my own choice! You're not my mom!"

"And thank God for that! I asked you a question! Did you even think of me or were you busy learning how to deal with your irrational fear of solitude?"

He had barely finished the last word before Denmark jumped up and slammed his hand down onto the table. Norway started, taken aback by the sudden action when the other had been sitting nearly still the entire time. But now, his hand was shaking and he had a wild and… hurt expression in his eyes. He was so angry that his face turned pale. There was no deep and calming breathing, no second to think his words through, nothing, before he began yelling. Really, actually yelling.

"Irrational fear of solitude? Irrational fear of solitude? Let me ask you a thing, Norway; how did you feel just two weeks after I left? Did you feel anxious? Nervous? Desperate to get in touch with me but fighting not to do so for whatever reason? Did you feel any desire, even the smallest bit, to make it up and fix things, but found me suddenly gone?"

Norway wasn't sure what he was going to say to that but that didn't matter since Denmark wasn't done. Still with the wild look in his eyes, he went on.

"I'm sure you did. But imagine that, just ten times stronger, and throw in anger, despair and pain from several hundreds of years. I have been left, time and time again, and I have been betrayed time and time again, even by people I considered friends. I have been lied to and made the laughingstock of fucking Scandinavia! I have messed up, sure I have, we all have, but it's only me who is being blamed! I'm getting accused for everything that goes wrong between us, and I have to suffer the consequences! It's tiresome and it hurts! I'm sick of it!"

About halfway through his small speech, Denmark began pointing at himself with a pale, quivering finger. In the end, he ended up poking himself hard in the chest with said finger, harder and harder for every word.

The Norwegian was in a state of mild shock. While he did know these things that Denmark spoke of, and while he did know that they ought to have had some sort of consequence, he hadn't thought it would have been like this. But there was something that didn't add up in his mind: if Denmark felt that way about them, then why did he insist on always being with him?

His voice came off as much harder and crueller than he had anticipated when he asked.

"You are not making sense. You fear solitude but want to be with me, though you fear I might leave you. Why?"

"I thought you were different!" The answer was immediate and while the furious hint was still in his eyes, hurt began to shine through as well. "I thought you would never hate me enough to leave me or kick me out! I know I haven't been the best partner one could hope for but I had never thought you would do that! Can you imagine," his voice went down a notch, "how that was? To realize that you also dislike me so?"

Norway couldn't say a word. He had prepared a whole lot of things to say when he finally met with Denmark but it seemed as though it was impossible right now. Denmark continued, his voice even lower than before.

"I thought we had finally gotten over the big hardships in our relationship. Thought that I could finally begin relaxing about you not leaving me or hating me. Thought it for sure. Then this happened."

"… This has nothing to do with solitude," Norway said, trying to get them back on a more comfortable track. He wasn't happy about what Denmark was saying; it hurt him and made him feel cruel.

"Then think outside just solitude! I fear it because the thought of being unloved frightens me! The thought that nobody wants me around, that I have disappointed everyone so much they don't even want to talk with me! This is just as much about love and contact with others as it is about being alone."

There was silent for a couple more minutes. Norway hesitantly reached out to pull out a chair and sat down. Denmark copied his movements seconds later, sitting back down heavily and breathing quickly.

"That's… that's why I fear it but want to be with you. I cling to you because I'm afraid of losing you if I do anything else. Now, go on, continue to mock me, that was what you came here for, wasn't it?"

It was clear that he attempted to sound harsh and like it didn't really matter to him what Norway said but he was revealed and betrayed by his own body. His gaze flickered and he continued unfolding and folding his arms. He touched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds.

And it was just as clear that Norway had no intention of mocking Denmark any further. He hadn't even arrived with the idea of doing so. He had come here to sort things out, not be a bitch towards Denmark. At least, not that much of a bitch.

He sighed deeply and put his hands on the table, looking at them and being absolutely determined not to look at Denmark. The fingertips were only centimetres from Denmark's but it was impossible to know whether or not this was intentional.

"Look, Den-"

"No, let me say a thing more," Denmark asked and his voice had gotten a soft, almost vulnerable undertone. Norway blinked a few times in surprise but didn't say anything, instead let Denmark have a few more words.

"I… I know I have been fooling around with others, strayed from you and that I may have appeared… unfaithful to you but I have always come back, right? I have never left for more than a few days, I have always returned."

Norway used the following silence to consider these words. They were true. He knew that Denmark had been goofing around and had 'sexual practices' with others but Denmark was right – he had always come back to his side, always with an insecure, almost afraid, smile and careful greetings. As if he knew that he was risking losing Norway.

The strange thing was that Norway had never once thought of dumping him. He had never thought about breaking up with Denmark, not even after finding out what he was partaking in with others. Why was that? He knew that Denmark liked others, so why hadn't he just said 'fuck this' and let Denmark to stray about as he apparently liked?

He couldn't deny that there may have been something about the man that kept him spellbound. There was something about his nature, his personality – even the annoying parts – that he didn't want to be without. He just couldn't exactly figure it out. He knew very well what the feeling was called but he didn't have in mind to say it out loud. There was no reason for that.

But as he agreed with himself on this, Sweden's words entered his mind. "All he needs 's a confirmation of yar love. He needs t' hear that ya were just upset 'n that ya had been thinkin' 'bout that for a long time." He turned the words over a few times in his mind, trying to find the best way to tell them, if they so necessarily had to be said out loud. Norway was not good with such words. Would now be a wrong time to say them? If so, when should they be uttered? He couldn't just let them out nonchalantly… he had to sound like he meant them.

For he did. He loved Denmark a lot, he just… wasn't the type of person to show it.

"Look, Denmark," he began again and he finally found the courage to look up. How strange it was, that he was the one in need of finding courage! "I'm… I'm sorry about what happened, okay? I was just… I had been thinking about that for a long time and it just sort of slipped out because I got annoyed with you." He took a small break, moisturizing his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"I had been upset about your clinginess for a while and that day, you were just unlucky enough to release it. I didn't mean to… to make you leave. I would never do that on purpose with all my senses intact and unprovoked."

Denmark's eyes widened, an expression of surprise growing on his face. It looked stupid. But that was probably one of the many small things that Norway actually really liked about him.

"I… guess I'm trying to say that I don't… hate you, as I have deceived everyone, and apparently also you, to believe. I'm sorry for having given that impression." Was this the time he was supposed to say 'I love you'? Wouldn't now make a fine timing? He was already in the middle of cringing out his soul, so why not take it all the way?

"I know I don't say it enough but…" Oh for Christ's sake, why couldn't he just say it? Why was it so hard for him to say those three little pesky words? He cursed himself inwardly and took a deep breath, gaze firmly locked with Denmark's.

"I don't say this a lot, Denmark, but I really love you."

There, done, it was said. And as soon as those three small but enormously significant and deep words were said, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He felt a little bit lighter – or maybe it was just his head? – and he could breathe a little bit more freely. He was also pretty sure, though, that he had now a nervous flicker in his eyes. When the words were said, then what? What would come now? Had the timing even been right? Those damn romance novels hadn't taught him anything about this! And Denmark just sat there! He wasn't saying a thing, just sat there with his stupid, confused expression, looking overwhelmed and nervous.

"H-How little sleep have you been getting to say such a thing?"

Norway's face stiffened. His jaw tensed. This was exactly why he never said these things to Denmark! He always made them into some sort of joke, and that angered Norway.

"I swear to God, Denmark, if you-"

But Denmark silenced him. First with a hand in the air, then with a kiss on the lips. It was brief, impossibly brief and only just left the instantly recognizable taste of beer. Then it was over and Norway found himself in need of opening his eyes. As he did so, he met Denmark's happy gaze.

"I'm sorry, Nor. I know it took a lot for you to say that. And I know that you mean 'em, from the very bottom of your heart."

"Sappy-alarm," Norway warned but his voice was endlessly relieved and breathy. His lips even curled a bit, making it look like he was just about to smile.

"I'm so happy to hear that." Denmark's voice had turned a bit husky. As he leaned back down in his chair, he licked his lips, catching the faint taste of cold butter.

"What? Sappy-alarm?" The voice was almost as serious as ever but a light undertone made it clear that Norway was actually joking and that he was now ready to sort this out. Denmark breathed out in a part laugh before the corners of his lips slowly dropped and the smile disappeared.

There was silent in the room for a while. Denmark and Norway weren't looking at each other but instead on the furniture, the decorations and basically anything that could take their attention away from the other.

In the end, it was Denmark who broke it. With a serious expression that didn't fit him, he looked up and directly at Norway.

"Alright. Nor, you came here to talk. I'm happy for that and I'm more than willing to get things back on track. So, what have you been thinking about? What can I do so this won't happen again?"

Norway didn't respond for the first thirty seconds. He continued staring at a picture on the mantelpiece which represented all of the Nordics, Sealand and Ladonia. The kids were standing by Sweden and Finland – obviously – while Denmark, Norway and Iceland stood together. All of them were smiling, even if it was only the tiniest bit of the curl of a lip in Norway's case and nothing more than a slightly less scary face for Sweden.

It was actually a rather cute picture. They were all dressed nicely, managing to not appear too elegant or formal.

As Norway was so slow to answer, Denmark really had time to grow nervous. He began fumbling with the belt on his jeans, coughed and cleared his throat quite a few times, did small things that witnessed of the anxiety rising within him. When Norway finally looked back at Denmark, he looked far from his usual, confident and cold self. His pupils were a bit wide and he took a hand to his hair, fumbling with the strands.

"First of all, you have to understand that I'm not… not the clingy type of… partner." Denmark nodded. He knew this very well. Norway went on.

"Since I'm not like that, it's not really comfortable for me when you are constantly around me and always try to get in touch with me. It feels like you try to own me, and I will not accept that." For a moment, his eyes got a hint of the incredible strength he held within, and Denmark instantly understood that this was something he would have to work on. He nodded again, crossing his legs.

"I'm your partner, not your private property," Norway continued and Denmark nodded once more, this time more aggressively so it was clear that he had understood.

"And… Listen, Den." He put the hand on the table, not sure himself why. If he hoped for Denmark to take it or if he just wanted it to lie there. "I'm aware that I don't speak a lot and that I can be a bit tough to figure out and such but you just… you have to deal with that. I can't change it."

His gaze flickered a bit, running from Denmark's eyes to his own hand and back. As if this was an invitation, the Dane took Norway's hand in his and squeezed it gently.

"I can deal with that."

Norway made the smallest back-and-forth movement with his head, not quite a nod but signalizing he had gotten it.

"You will also have to get used to… not staying over all the time. I would never leave you, so even if I understand that you can't get rid of that fear of solitude, you have to trust me when I say this." He made a small pause, as if waiting for Denmark to nod or voice either his agreement or his disagreement. Neither of it happened; the man just sat there, looking at him with clear eyes.

Norway cleared his throat and continued. How long had he been speaking? Far too long, that's for sure. He was not at all used to talking this much, and especially not about this sort of topic!

"You have to understand a few things about love, Denmark." Wasn't this just perfectly ironic? Norway, teaching Denmark things about love. France would laugh his ass off if he knew about this, and he would probably correct Norway a few times. But now there was no France around so the stage was all Norway's.

The Dane looked just as incredulous as Norway had imagined he would.

"How love works for me, that is… First of all, if you give me some room, there will be room enough for two. If you just let me have some days alone, I will… happily… have you over.

"You see, I really do love you. And as… sweet and great you can be, you're just too clingy. If you give me a chance to really miss you, I might… even come to your place." His other hand went to take Denmark's in his. It was both to show that he meant it and to hide the fact that his hands were actually shaking. Not much but noticeable. What the hell was he doing? He didn't get it, not really. How could he be saying all these things now? He had always had problems with talking about love and what he felt for Denmark. And just feelings in general.

"I don't want to wake up with another, but I don't want to always wake up with you, either. Have I made myself clear?" He seriously hoped he had. He was running out of cheesy things to say, running out of ways he could convince Denmark that his love was just as real and burning as it had always been. Though there always was the physical way… but that was too much, Denmark would surely understand what he had said. There would be no need for such things. Hopefully.

Given that Denmark was staring at him, mouth agape and eyes so wide open it was a wonder they didn't roll right out of his head, Norway was pretty sure he had gotten his point across. The shadow of a small smile spread on his lips as he waited for the Dane's answer.

"I… I think I can work on that."

That meant 'yes', didn't it? In Denmark's way, it had to.

"You don't talk much, and I don't get to stay over as often or long as usually. If that's what it takes to stay with you, I would do it time and time again. If that was possible, of course."

Norway raised an eyebrow slightly, but instead of looking doubtful, he looked… almost amused.

"You're not my property, I get that, but I won't share you with anyone, either."

"Of course not," Norway replied, a little too quickly, and he bit his lip, feeling his cheeks heat up just a bit. But it didn't matter. There was no use for shyness now.

"I mean… of course I won't fool around with others. I can't do that. I don't understand how you can."

Denmark was quick to try and rescue his reputation on that one but before he got to really explain and apologize again, Norway silenced him with a hand.

"I know, Den. I know you only love me. I haven't told you not to do it, have I?"

"No, you haven't." A glimpse of a smug smile went over his face but when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was hesitating. "Why, exactly? Why do you still allow it?"

Norway blushed even more but he didn't look away. Determined to carry out this conversation no matter how it turned out, he answered in a slightly shaky, slightly anxious tone.

"Well… I thought that maybe I'm… not good enough for you. Since you have these… acts… with others. Maybe I can't satisfy you."

The words hung in the air for a while. He let go of the other's hands in favour of brushing some hair behind his ear. His nose decided to itch so he rubbed it lightly with a finger. Wouldn't the man just say something…? Were his fears reasonable or was he way, way off?

The longer Denmark was silent the more nervous Norway got and he began to curse himself for even having said that. No matter what Denmark's answer was going to be, he would definitely mock him later…

"Lukas. Lukas, look at me." Without realizing it himself, Norway had turned his head a bit to the side, focusing on the nearest kitchen appliance his eyes could find. For whatever reason. Somehow, that was easier to canalize his attention at than Denmark at the moment.

Denmark took a gentle hold of Norway's chin and turned his head back so they got eye contact. The king's blue eyes were sincere and his words heartfelt.

"Lukas, why would you ever think that? Have I ever given you reason to believe you didn't satisfy me sexually?"

"Given that you do it with other people-"

"Has there ever been a time, with you, where I looked like I wasn't enjoying myself?"

"Den, can you please not-"

"Can you remember just once where you didn't make me-"

"Matthias, please-"

"Just once where you didn't have me begging for your-"

"I said, stop!"

The Norwegian was now blushing furiously but instead of looking mad, he was trying to hide a wide smile. Denmark looked at him with a telling grin and raised eyebrows.

"See? Lukas, why would Iever feel like I'm not satisfied with you? You do know that sex is best when it's with someone you love, right? And I seriously hope that you know I only love you. I have only ever loved you."

Norway looked back at Denmark for a few seconds before nodding. Of course. He knew all of that. It had maybe been crazy of him to think such things. But now he at least knew that that wasn't the reason Denmark was spending nights under covers with other people.

"Then… then why do you do it? If it's not because I'm not good enough."

"Well…" Denmark looked like he needed some thinking time on this one. Not because he had to come up with a reason, though. More like he had to consider carefully how to say it.

"I don't know how I can say this so it sounds just somewhat nice, but… they have another take on the whole act. Like… they have kinks." And he was quite sure that Norway did not have kinks. He had tried to ask some times, of course, but Norway had never really answered him.

"…"

Awkward silence arose.

"Uhm… you see, I can live out some of my… well, fantasies with 'em."

Well, this was getting really awkward. In fact, the two didn't know much about each other's sexual preferences and kinks but it had always been Denmark who had been in the lead.

"Have you ever mentioned these… fantasies… for me?"

Denmark nodded slowly.

"You said you wouldn't consider it even if I somehow got you a new albino moose."

"… I see." Well, then it had to be some pretty far out fantasies. Or maybe he was just that vanilla? Was he maybe boringcompared to others? Norway couldn't remember the things in detail but he had a feeling he… he might maybe give Denmark a chance on that one.

"Okay, look… I have given you something to change a bit. Now it's time for my change." The Dane looked on, thinking he maybe knew where this was going.

"If you follow what I've told you, I will… try out these things with you." Maybe he would actually like it. Just a bit. That would be embarrassing, though.

"Nor, I don't want you to force yourself to try something you're not comfortable-"

"Cut it out, Den, and accept my offer before I change my mind. Besides… isn't it only fair? I'm asking you to do something you really don't like, even fear, so the least I can do is to try and… expand my… horizon."

"Alright, alright, I won't say no to that," Denmark said with a wide smile and got up from his chair, quickly getting around the table to embrace Norway in a tight hug.

For some seconds, the Norwegian wasn't moving a muscle, but simply sat in the chair – he hadn't had time to get up – and had Denmark's arms around him. Then, after a little while, he sighed and pushed away from the table and the chair, hugging the other back. It was… so long time since they had touched each other. Norway had nearly forgotten how firm the other's body was and how much he smelled of fresh wood. A whiff of lush grass was also hanging around him.

He grasped the other tighter, his hands clinging desperately to Denmark's jacket so that he couldn't leave. His head was soon buried in the Dane's shoulder and his breathing had turned a tad superficial.

"You idiot… why did you never call?"

The taller blond closed his eyes and leant his head against Norway's. He hesitated to answer fora second or two, though not really sure why. There was nothing to hide. The reason for his lack of calls was probably very much like Norway's.

"My pride denied it. I didn't want to cave in as the first. Why didn't you call?"

"Same reason."

"Thought so." Then another question nagged on Denmark's mind. Sweden had been awfully silent about Norway, even if they had to have spent the time together.

"Why didn't Sweden say anything about you? You did go to him, didn't you?"

Norway nodded, his head sliding a bit lower and resting against the other's chest. He could hear Denmark's heartbeat. It was surprisingly fast. Was he nervous or something? What was there even to be nervous about for him? This was something he, Norway, should be anxious about, not him. The reason Sweden hadn't known much about Norway was pretty damn simple. He nodded at the last question; that didn't need any form of elaboration.

"Because I didn't tell him anything. I knew Finland would ask so I made sure Sweden wouldn't have anything to tell him. I wanted you to cave in as the first. My dignity kept me from doing so," Norway answered quietly, his head vaguely nuzzling Denmark's chest.

"Sneaky."

"But not sneaky enough, it seems. You never called, you never mailed. Nothing."

"You sound like a boss from a bad mafia movie. But you're right. I figured that since you made me leave, you would have to take me back," the Dane explained and wove his fingers through Norway's blond, ruffled hair. It wasn't neat and silky as he was so used to. It felt stiff and not at all Norway-like. The man must have been really upset if he hadn't even tended to his hair. Of course he wasn't obsessed with itin a France- or Poland-like way but he preferred his hair nice and taken care of.

"And now I have."

Denmark looked a bit surprised but his face soon smoothened and he hugged the man tighter.

"You have? Really?"

"Mh."

"You can say it directly, you're not Sweden."

"Walking a thin line there, Den. But yes, I take you back if you follow the guidelines."

"Your every word… mistress."

Norway softly punched him in the stomach but couldn't help an actual smile graze his face as he leant his head backwards a bit. Denmark's lips met his seconds later and his grip of the jacket tightened.

The fight ended there. When they were both clear of what to do in the future, they could clearly see that Norway had always had the remote control of Denmark's life.

And there was no way that Denmark could possibly change the channel.

Cheesy ending is cheesy. I hope you have liked it, and that you would take a moment to leave a review. ^^
Translation:

Virkelig? = Really? (Norwegian (and Danish))