Author's Note: Did you miss me? XD Well, I'm back and writing out more one-shots for Hetalia and GaGa. The Hetalian Monster was so successful that I decided to release the deluxe edition, which will now include the original sixteen tracks from "The Fame." These one-shots will be very similar to the ones for Monster, but some of them will connect to those original nine tracks. Some of these (such as this first track) will be prequels, and others will be sequels (along with a few side stories), but the rest will be independent stories. So I hope you enjoy these next tracks for The Hetalian Fame.
Title: The Hetalian Fame
Song: Just Dance
"Sealand, eat your veggies."
"But, Mama..."
"Don't call me that. Eat."
Finland nodded sternly and turned back to the sink, washing off the dishes from that night's dinner. Behind him, still at the table, Sealand made a face and groaned as his fork stabbed through another leafy green. Secretly, Finland smirked as he set another plate on the drying rack.
"Papa!" Sealand suddenly whined as Sweden entered the kitchen. "Mama's making me eat these yucky vegetables." He dropped one of the greens onto the floor for Hanatamago, but the little dog ignored it. Sealand frowned and looked up at his father.
Sweden barely even looked at his son. "L'st'n t' yer m'ma," he mumbled as he walked to the sink. He took one of the dirty glasses and wiped it down.
"Oh, thank you, Su-san," Finland replied, smiling. "By the way, do you have any work to do tonight?" Sweden shook his head silently, allowing Finland to continue. "Good then. I have someplace to go tonight, and I want you to come."
"What about me?" Sealand protested, slamming his fork down on the table. Hanatamago barked at the sudden noise and ran to the door, thinking someone was knocking.
Finland turned and frowned. "You won't get to go anywhere if you don't finish your dinner. And besides, this is something for grown-ups. Su-san and I will take you into town this weekend. Hanatamago, stop barking!"
"Mama!"
"Don't call me that!"
Sweden put the clean glass onto the drying rack and walked to the door, shushing the little dog. One she was quiet, he turned back to the kitchen and stared down at his son. "E't 'r n' d'ssert," he said. Sealand whined again and put another veggie in his mouth.
Finland smiled. "There's a good boy. Once you finish, you can have a little slice of last night's cake."
Sealand nodded glumly and stayed silent for a few moments, only his chewing audible. But then he spoke up again. "So where are you going with Papa, Mama?"
"I already told you. It's a place just for grown-ups."
"But I'm the mighty Empire of Sealand!"
"But you're a growing empire, and little empires need their sleep."
"C'll s'me'ne," Sweden murmured, walking to the phone in the next room. He picked it up and started dialing numbers he knew by heart.
"Thank you, Su-san. For around nine, okay?"
"Mama, look!" Sealand pointed to his plate, which was bare of vegetables. Finland smiled and took his plate, praising him for obeying. After a minute, he returned with another plate and a slice of chocolate cake.
All the while, he was thinking. I've been waiting for this all month. This is going to be the best concert of the year, I know it! And Su-san will have a fantastic time, too. Maybe I can make him dance this time. And I wonder if the others will want to come.
His husband interrupted his thoughts. "D'nm'rk is c'm'ng," he announced. "'th'rs 'ren't. N'r 'nd 'ce w'll w'tch Se'l'nd."
"Uncle Nor and Uncle Ice?" the little nation asked as he finished his dessert. Sweden nodded.
"I'm glad they agreed," Finland said as he took his son's dessert plate and finished the dishes. "I hope that Denmark has a good time."
That night, at exactly nine o'clock, Norway and Iceland arrived at Sweden's house, complete with a fairy and Puffin. "G'od 'v'ning," the tall Nordic greeted. "C'me in."
"Thank you," Iceland replied. "Good evening to you, too. Where's Sealand?"
"Here I am!" the little boy called, running towards the front door. He grabbed Iceland's hand and bounced up and down. "Can I play with Puffin? And can Hanatamago play, too?" He squealed when Iceland nodded and ran back to the living room.
Sweden turned to the other Nordic. "Y'u're awf'lly qu'et, N'r," he said.
Norway rolled his eyes. "Denmark is harassing me again. That annoying idiot keeps asking me to hang out with him. I can barely put up with him during the day, so I don't need to deal with him at night, too."
At that moment, Finland came downstairs, dressed casually. "I'm sure that Denmark doesn't mean any harm by it. He probably just wants to spend some time with you, Norway. You've been at Iceland's a lot lately, so we don't get to see you that often."
Norway shook his head. "I still don't want to have to deal with him. He's so annoying." He opened up the palm of his hand to let a fairy rest. "I swear, if he calls me one more time, I'm going to move to Iceland's place. I don't care what happens to him by this point."
Finland frowned. "That's not nice."
"He's the annoying one. By now, I don't care if he drinks himself to death."
"Norway!"
Sweden put a large hand on his wife's shoulder. "H' d'esn't me'n 't," he explained. "S'okay, F'n. L't's g'."
"Did you bring the stuff?"
"It's right here!"
"Fantastic. Let me at it."
Denmark opened the large bag in his hands, and Finland dove into the contents like a hungry dog craving his kibble. Sweden watched on silently, his expression blank. If Denmark and Finland were paying any attention, they would notice the strange, tense skin at the corner of his mouth and the tugging on his eyebrows.
The three of them were standing in a full parking lot next to a large arena, lights and screams of excitement emitting from the inside. Denmark, with his large bag and huge grin, looked like a drug dealer, and Finland, with his gleeful smile and almost flailing arms, was his customer. And that was exactly why Sweden was not amused.
But Denmark was not a drug dealer, and Finland was not a buyer of said drugs. No, the bag was not full of questionable items. Instead, it contained piles of wigs, party clothes, and make-up, appropriate for a Finnish rock concert.
Sweden closed his eyes and groaned. He loved his wife. Seriously, he did. He loved Finland with all of his heart, but there were moments when he questioned his wife's taste in entertainment. The last time Finland had dragged him to a concert, he had walked out covered in fake blood and real vomit, and he had no plans to repeat that event. Denmark had laughed at him for an entire week, Iceland had gathered Puffin's entire family together to witness the spectacle, and he had even been able to see great amusement in Norway's normally emotionless eyes. In short, he was not looking forward to the night, even less because Denmark had agreed to come along.
But one thing was stopping him from going home right then and there.
"Su-san! I've got some clothes here that'll fit you!"
Damn.
The show had not even gone on for ten minutes, and Finland was, to put it simply, wasted. The alcohol had been free and available to everyone in the audience, so the little Fin was gone with just a few drinks. Surprisingly, he still seemed rather coordinated, because he was still dancing and cheering with the music, however chaotic and dark it sounded. Denmark was partying it up, as he could definitely hold his liquor. Sweden was starting to agree with Norway about what could happen to the Dane without anyone caring.
But he couldn't think those thoughts for too long. "Su-san!" Finland squealed, jumping up to his husband. "Come on! Have some fun! Let loose!"
"F'n..."
"Need a drink? Huuuuuuh?" Finland grabbed a shot off a nearby tray and shoved it in Sweden's face. "Come on, you'll feel betterrrrr! Just dance already!"
A bit reluctantly, Sweden took the drink from his wife and gulped it down. The alcohol burned the back of his throat, but he had to admit that he did feel better with it. He blinked a few times, cleaned off his glasses, and looked down at Finland, a brow quirking. "F'n? Wh'n d'd ya t'rn yer sh'rt 'ns'de o't?"
"Huh?" Finland looked down and saw that his black t-shirt was indeed torn up and inside out. He looked back up with a smile. "I don't know. It just happened!"
"D' ya h've m' ph'ne?"
"Uh..."
"...Th' k'ys?"
"..."
"Forget it."
"You worry too much!" Denmark suddenly laughed, slugging his arm around Sweden's shoulders. "Lighten up! Your precious, little wife was kind enough to bring you out here. You may as well have fun!"
Sweden rolled his eyes, muttering about how someone needed to drive home that night, but Finland quickly stole his attention again. The small blonde had somehow gotten a hold of a permanent, blue marker and was drawing a lightning bolt on his face. That was when Sweden decided that Finland had had too much.
But when he tried to convince him so, Finland attempted to assure him that, as he so eloquently put it, "Everything will be okay! Just dance!"
It continued throughout the night.
When Finland woke up, he was in Sweden's house, in Sweden's bed, but the large Nordic was nowhere in sight. Sitting up and groaning, he rubbed his head, which was throbbing like crazy. "Ugh...what happened last night?" he asked, his voice low and strained. This had to be the worst hangover he had ever had.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Finland could remember going to the rock concert and having a good time with Sweden and Denmark. Iceland and Norway had come over to watch Sealand, so at least his son had been looked after for the night. Okay, that was good. But what else had happened?
"I had way too much last night..." Finland swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand, but his balance was a bit wobbly. Once he had composed himself, walked out of the room and gripped the handrail tightly, so he could make it down the stairs without tripping.
As he walked, the memories starting coming back to him. Sweden had had enough of the concert after witnessing Finland dance rather provocatively next to Denmark. He hadn't even known that his wife was capable of such dance moves! Despite the Dane's protests, Sweden dragged Finland out to the car and set him down in the back seat. By that point, Finland was passed out cold, unable to resist Sweden's warm hands and strong arms. Denmark had decided to stay at the concert, shouting something about asking Norway to go out with him sometime.
"I w''ldn't d' th't," Sweden had suggested, remembering what the Norwegian had said about the Dane, but the Nordic didn't listen. Sweden just hoped he wouldn't have to slug Denmark into the back of his car passed out, or worse...dead, anytime soon.
Finland nodded to himself as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, thankful he hadn't fallen. He looked at the front door next to the bottom of the stairs and read the note his husband had stuck there.
"Went to the grocery and drug stores. Be back soon. -Berwald"
Finland smiled. "Su-san is so kind..." He walked past the front door to the kitchen, where Sealand sat at the table feeding leftover vegetables to Hanatamago, who proceeded to ignore them.
"Mama?"
"Don't call me that!"
"Why do you have a blue lightning bolt on your face?"
What's goin' on on the floor?
I love this record, Baby, but I can't see straight anymore.
Keep it cool. What's the name of this club?
I can't remember but it's alright, I'm alright.
Just dance! Gonna be okay. Da, da, doot, doot-n.
Just dance! Spin that record, Babe! Da, da, doot-n.
Just dance! Gonna be okay.
D-d-d-dance, dance, dance just j-j-j-just dance!
END
