Author's note:
HIYA! just an update for 'Unrequited', it'll take a lot longer. Lol, I'm really enjoying how it's coming out and all. I already have the whole story mapped out but of course I have to expound the scenes that are playing in my head. Plus, I think I'll be giving it a new name and a new summary...maybe! but it'll still contain 'Unrequited' for some of you to still notice it!
Anyway, I am passionate about DenAme and it's my main OTP so I hope you don't mind another DenAme fic. Anyway, I'm actually gonna post a new spin off (few-shots only) from 'Randomness'...like all of this, it's an utter random story that just so happens to be chaptered. That's why I am not posting it here, since this place is for one shots and drabbles only. Although, I haven't been able to think of drabbles lately...
(GCJajey's corner XD):
Basically the story is about how much Denmark differs from the way he acts around other people and the way he acts around America, his boss, and some human friends. or more accurately, the way he acts normally.
I would like all of you to keep an open mind. You might think we're being a bit too carried away with all the details here. maybe you're thinking they're becoming too OOC...but in all honesty, Danes aren't arrogant and loud as how they show him in the show. i did my research in Danish life, much like how Americans aren't like Peter Griffin...or anybody from Family guy...D:, sorry my American friends for being so horribly represented (but damn it it is still funny watching the show XD)
this is placed like months before 'Chapter 18:Can I have this Dance' in which the two bros were already having frequent sleep-overs.
This is what happened in their first sleep-over.
Warning: Smart!Denmark, Smart!America, um... Importunate!?America
We do not Own Hetalia! The Awesome Himaruya owns it and it is appreciated that you support him in his works! :D
(BEFORE 'CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE?')
Where's the Beer?
America remembers the first time he and his best friend started sleeping-over. It was still pretty recent actually just about half a year ago. It wasn't at all what he expected it to be. They've always been pretty close before so he knew that the big Dane was actually a lot more mature, calmer, smarter, and more intuitive than the empty-minded loud-mouth that constantly stomps around the bars near the building where their pointless meetings were being held.
He's seen his friend drunk on two occasions and both weren't because he just felt like drinking. To state facts, they seldomly hang out around bars. They usually went around parks just talking and walking. They were more into daring each other into doing the most embarrassing of things making a lot of countries point at them and call them 'immature'. America kinda made it a big deal that a person can really have fun without beer in hand.
When they were alone, Denmark could be a fucking buzz-kill. He was that type of friend that always dicked you to do the right thing or stopped you from doing something stupid like getting a nose ring or a tramp-stamp or buying some weed from a random dude outside a bar. But every gesture was endearing in the eyes o the young nation and every tug from that strong hand made him fall deeper for the oldest Kingdom of Europe. You know besides the hot face and charming smile that only looked a year or two older than America's.
But still…
Like most representatives, he ought to be just like any other of his countrymen. From what Alfred knew from his Danish neighbors, they're happy people (check), who drink a lot, cuss a lot (it's more of a conversational quirk or slang), incredibly non-racist and fair to all genders and sexual preferences (good), humorously sarcastic, and not really religious (…America's at least respectfully religious but he ain't the fanatic types that shove their beliefs down people's throats and be a snobby know-it-all, so he doesn't mind).
So, Matthias had to be like one of them. He had to be a heavy drinker; someone who cusses like a sailor; and a closed Christian (has been baptized but doesn't go to church or pray). He had the perfect picture of the Dane in his head. He had the perfect picture of what life would be like in the arms of the man. Alfred could not stop thinking about it the moment a sleep-over was planned.
"You've been redecorating, I see…" America looked around the house trying to think of a way to start a conversation of sorts.
"Ja. I do every couple of decades… 'keeping things up-to-date." The ravishing Dane chuckled. "Help yourself to the fridge, I stocked it up. 'Just need to go to the bathroom." The taller blonde waved as he climbed the stairs.
"SURE DUDE!" America hollered.
He immediately ran to the kitchen which was also conjoined with the dining area and the living area. The young nation opened the fridge seeing what the Dane meant by 'stocked'. And crap, it shocked him.
The freezer had meat and fish while the fridge part had eggs, cheeses, jams, and other foodstuff. It was packed with jars and jars of preserve and meat spreads and more meat and more meat and more meat.
But no beer.
Maybe he was hiding the rest somewhere else. Knowing his friend, he could take more alcohol than an elephant and he meant that literally…maybe after experimenting on it with an elephant.
He went to open the cabinets only to find canned goods.
Of course you shouldn't put beer in the cabinets, that's just weird.
He tried the pantry, looking like a dog out for drugs. He couldn't find anything except for rice, pasta, and sacks of potatoes.
This could not be happening. Maybe, he was so alcoholic that he was under vigil watch with shock collars and everything and the reason he went upstairs was to hide it from him…
America ran around the ground floor looking for any trace that Denmark really was hiding beer or that he was on a shock collar.
Maybe documents and files?
He walked around stopping at a French door by the stairs. He checked to see if it was locked.
Damn it, it was.
Alfred looked around to see if anyone was there and when it was all clear, he protracted one of his long feline claws and used his outstandingly sharp eagle eyes to peep through the hole as he played with the lock.
*CLICK*
"Awesome…" the American hummed as he opened the doors to the once locked room.
He let out a sound of awe escape from his mouth. The room was furnished to the tens with mahogany walls and red carpeted accents. The windows were draped with a rich-blood color with golden-yellow curtains. In front of the bow window were a desk and a very comfortable, reclinable, and twistable sofa-chair also in red.
"He sure does like red a lot." America noted as he looked around for any trace of beer. He inspected the walls closely, noticing frames. He looked at the Danish words, deciphering them in less than a second.
"…D-diploma…engregia cum laude, with outstanding h-honors in Cardiology?!...given to MATTHIAS KØHLER!"he gasped in surprise. He took a look at the other frames.
"…College Mathematics…Architecture…Culinary…F-fine Arts?"
There was an uneasy silence that crept inside him. Why was he feeling intimidated? He knew a lot of countries had multiple degrees and went through multiple courses, but why was he suddenly feeling like Denmark was way out of his league?
Mattie had a degree in psychology, biology, physics, history, and finance. Ivan was a major in economics, dancing, and political sciences. Francis was a mathematics major as well as a general surgeon. And Arthur was into philosophy and chemistry.
Alfred on the other hand studied aeronautics, rocket science, Culinary Arts, animation, the Natural Sciences, Literature and Pediatric Neurology.
"C-crap, stop thinking about it…think beer!" he chanted under his breath. Just then, a mini fridge gleamed. His smile turned mischievous with his feet on tip-toes. He slowly opened the small door, letting out the cold air escape. It was so cold that it took a few seconds for the fog to clear.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
…
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?" he screamed frantically as he pulled out a pack of beer from the fridge.
"It's beer." The Dane came in with a playful whistle. "…I could've sworn that this was locked a while ago." He twisted the doorknob repeatedly, making sure it wasn't broken.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" America pointed at his friend who was wearing rimless glasses.
"I'm Denmark…you're best bud for two centuries. Right?" answered the Dane in earnest confusion.
"Since when did you wear glasses and why the fuck is there only a single pack of beer in your fridge?" Alfred asked looking up at the taller European.
"Dude, you Americans sure do fucking cuss a lot. Anyway, I've been wearing glasses for a century, I think…" Denmark thought about it for a while with his chin resting between his forefinger and thumb.
"When I go out I wear contacts, if I don't wear either of the two, my eyes freaking hurt…must've been all the late nights with a book stuck on my nose." He grinned. "Oh, right the beer…" he thought for a moment. "Must've forgotten to stack the mini-fridge but don't drink that, those are almost a decade old..." he warned with a warm smile.
Alfred's eyes were white in terror and his mouth could've hit the floor and so did the expired pack of beer.
'He likes… reading?'
It was as if his assumption that being in a relationship with Matthias changed from being just fun and exciting with a lot of drunken nights and hard-core action to more of cold winter nights with the Dane making him hot cocoa with a soft smile and plenty of hugs and cuddles by the fire. He was definitely falling for him harder than he had before, which was already very, very hard. He felt his heart melt and his body heat up and…and…
"So ya wanna latte or a macchiato?" the sweet baritone broke the daze. The owner of the melodious voice had a cup of home-made macchiato on one hand and latte on the other.
"Eh…w-what?" America got confused as he stared at the man who had a serious case of 'Italy-eyes'.
"Latte? OR Macchiato?" Denmark's eyes were playful at the question. "'See, I saw a flier advertising a Barista Class…so I took it and bought a book, checked some videos and voila!" His smile was like that of a child, all happiness.
Alfred was awe-struck and it took him a full minute to respond.
"Nah, I'm good." He smiled, not noticing the sudden frown that came after the open-mouthed smile.
"Oh…Okay then, just need t'throw this out… *not like I was trying to impress you or anything*" the last statement was grumbled and muffled. The sour nation made his way to his kitchen with the younger following close behind.
"America…if ya want to get beer so badly…we could go to the bar a block from 'ere." The other nation avoided all eye-contact as he threw the light brown liquid down the drain.
"I-it's not that. I-I just…" Alfred lost his train of thought when icy-blues froze him in place. A thick (not England-thick) brow slanted down while the other was raised. The crystal gems were perfect under the cold glass.
HE HAD TO KNOW MORE!
"What's your religion?" the random question came out from the big mouth.
Denmark tilted his head and thought of an answer.
'Lutheran…Lutheran…Lutheran' America chanted, wanting to be right so badly.
"I'm technically Lutheran…converted a long time ago" he took out his silver cross necklace that was hidden under his shirt.
'Score for America' he praised himself.
"But, Catholicism was the first religion I converted to. Even though it was banned for a while, I kinda rushed in to the first church I saw when it became legal again. 'Still remember the missionary who baptized me." He then rolled the right sleeve of his shirt up his fore arm to show a very old looking bracelet made up of small wooden balls with a very damaged almost black-from-decay wooden cross.
"So…I'm still not sure, even if there was that whole 'state religion' thing and even if Catholics make less than a percent of the total population. They're both the same to me. It's pretty confusing, for me anyway." He smiled weakly in reply.
'Okay…so you're only half right' America rectified.
"How often do you go to church?"
"I don't always attend the masses, but I at least go there once a week to pray…ya know, to clear my head sometimes. I go back and forth between the two and sometimes I visit both of them in one day. In the end they're basically saying the same thing." He scratched the back of his head.
"What about you and beer?"
"I don't drink that much, I would if I could. It's not like I'm a fucking alcoholic. Taking the garbage bag full of empty Finnish beer I found at the back of Sve's house to account, I think Finland drinks a lot more often. I just happen to handle myself a lot better…like a lot better than any of them. I drink a bit when I'm just lying around the house with nothing better to do, I fucking hate doing nothing." Denmark grunted with his shoulders up and arms crossed.
"So what do you do before you start drinking?" Alfred became more interested by the second.
"My work's done well before noon so I work out, play football (soccer) and some basketball…" America's mouth waters being filled with thoughts of the Dane's smug smile when he lifts barbells and when he scores in the field and the court.
"I have parkour and tumbling classes to teach, but it isn't daily." America's face burned bright. That's awesome and hot. It's like when somebody tries to snatch America's man-purse…(It's a very MANLY purse)…he'd jump up and do crazy flips and stop the robber dead in their tracks…
"Then I check online to see if anyone from DA wants commissions to be done then it's back to the canvas. I can do digital too, but I get commissioned a lot more for traditional ones, especially large ones.
I remember this insane commissioner who wanted me to make a 4.0 x 7.0 using colored pencils, it took me two years actually but I think 4800 Euros was fair, I mean he was the one who gave me the extra. Plus I enjoyed the challenge.
It's one of my main sources of personal income. I can handle my alcohol awesomely but I'm not some fucking Edgar Allen Poe. I totally get lazy when I drink even just a bit. I have deadlines to meet and demands to see through, so no time for the awesomeness of beer. I think I get about ten commissions per day and I always get awesome feedback. I have an art studio upstairs. It is actually very profitable and I fucking love to paint and draw, so it's a win-win. When I'm sober, I'll never ran out of ideas…they just pop out I guess." The Dane's face was scrunched up, thinking for other answers.
America's eyes widened. The artistic type didn't really seem to fit the other.
"If there aren't any, I sing in cafes and conventions. I also have a hosting gig, especially in France and Germany. Other than that, I just draw stuff in my sketch pad or play the piano or guitar or cook something when I'm stuck with nothing. I also clean a lot in a daily basis. Whatever I don't find boring really." America didn't seem to mind that the Dane was becoming irritated.
"I also like math problems, I don't need a calculator. I like the questions especially if it's advanced algebra, trigonometry, calculus…just give me the numbers and I'll give ya the answers. Also, I like playing trigonometry Sudoku in the morning. Any more questions?" the European asked harshly.
It wasn't the questions that irritated Matthias but how much the other's face looked disbelievingly at him each time he answered. Alright, he wasn't perfect but who was?
"Are you really Denmark?" America poked the European.
"I AM, damn it. I am the FUCKING AWESOME Kingdom of MOTHERFUCKING Denmark." The Dane took off his glasses and proudly swatted his chest shooting a very heated look to the American. He flinched suddenly realizing what was happening this whole time.
"You've been stereotyping me haven't you?" He asked in a very threatening tone.
"N-no…I-I mean…yes." America tried to muster every ounce of courage and dignity he had to look directly at the fiery light blue eyes.
"I didn't mean to, really." he smiled apologetically.
"Everybody's different from one another. If you think we're just personifications, some mindless dolls, how could we personify just one stereotype of our people? Aren't there like hundreds of them out there?" His glare intensified even more.
"Jeg Kongeriget Danmark." The Dane reiterated. He perched his glasses on his nose. "But…I'm also the equally awesome (if not more awesome), Matthias Køhler, What's so wrong with that shit?" his eyes softened in evident hurt and confusion.
"Should I assume that you're a self-centered blockhead? Or maybe you're the stupid rich kid? Or are ya the judgmental, self-righteous, racist?" Denmark didn't know why but only he could bring out this much emotion out of him and given the circumstances that's a bad thing.
But with the scared blue hues that strained to be hard in front of him, also brought out the side he wished never came back, the one that cared. He didn't want to meddle with his choices but in the very instant he hears something stupid his reluctant nature goes flying out of the window. His conscience was stronger around him…as if he just had to pull him away from the bad. Even if he couldn't do it every day and in every meeting, at least he could deal with his personal problems.
"Ya know what? I'm not in the fucking mood for beer right now, just turn to the shitty left and go straight ahead. The bar's also a fucking strip club so enjoy the awesomeness of motherfucking Danish Gs…if ya haven't played with those giant milk tanks, I freaking pity you!" he gestured with his hands wide apart as if holding a giant balloon.
Of course he'd had sex with a lot of women, they were very available when he needed…stuff for his frustrations. About 95% of countries are bisexual, so it wasn't anything new to have slept around with both options.
"…Sorry I'm not some alcoholic atheist." He said muttered within ear shot as he went up stairs.
"I'm Alfred Jones." America said in a shaking voice. The man turned around looking at him with an obvious well-of-course-you-are-idiot face.
"I like…no, I love Physics, Chemistry, Geology, Astronomy and anything Science-related. I love Shakespeare, Dickens, Andersen, and Edgar Allen Poe. I love sports. I love to dance. I love to write. I love history and I don't think Math is really that hard. I love to cook but you already know that. I love playing some of my instruments. I love watching romantic comedies, even the really crappy ones. And I love it when I start on making another Disney movie. I can speak in every official language in the world in utmost fluency…I-I just don't want others to know, you know?" The voice broke a lot. He rubbed his arm comfortingly looking away.
Denmark became anxious. It wasn't that his friend was a polyglot (although knowing every language of every country in the world is almost unbelievable) because even he could speak in twenty languages no sweat. He was nervous because, he might've heard him whispering 'I love you's and other romantic gestures in his native tongue when America wasn't looking.
"Mattie and I own a gourmet candy-ice cream-baked goods store-patisserie, a steak house, and a French restaurant. T-they're the best ones around…if what I heard's true. Also, I think it's scary that there are people who think God's an alien…even if I know Tony." He continued his rants like a nervous wreck of a child.
"Dude, I said that I'm sorry. I just really thought I know you by now…" America added with his voice breathy and exhausted.
"I-I just feel like…I'm not being a good friend if I don't know you that well." His cerulean orbs contrasted his burning-red cheeks. "Especially since it's been centuries already!"
A small blush came up the Dane's pale cheeks. It wasn't just because it was coming from him but it was the feeling that someone actually thought knowing the real him was that important.
"I think I might've overreacted a bit." Denmark scratched the back of his neck as he went back down to meet his friend.
"A bit?" America said sarcastically and with a hint of irritation.
"Dude, don't turn it around. Ya should be glad I accepted your apology." The man said smugly with a loud laugh that also made the other laugh.
"…So do you still want some beer or…" The Dane pointed at his makeshift barista corner.
"Dude, I don't think I'm in the mood for beer either." America smiled as he walked towards the main machine. "Plus, I could show you some pointers." His hands were firmly pressed as he tinkered with it.
"I don't think I n-" his reply was cut with a small cup of latte with the most beautiful rossetta he had ever seen. He took the cup and gave it a whiff before sipping it quietly.
"Alright, I guess I do need some pointers." A frown of defeat was stuck on his face earning a proud grin from America.
"…I've played around with Trigonometry Sudoku a bit…eight squares actually." He added as his head got filled with hot air.
"I've done ten by ten. One book, every single day" The other said with Italy-eyes once more as he savored the rich latte he had.
"You got me." America snickered as he humbled himself in defeat.
"Ya won't mind keeping all this, our little secret, right?" Matthias requested with his expression evidently worrisome.
"I won't. But can I ask why?" America, by now had his own latte.
"Same as you keep yours." The man smiled at the American.
"Are you sure? I mean a fairly religious, irregular-drinking, paintbrush-wielding, party-hosting, singing; Mathematics-acing, nerd of a Dane isn't so bad." It's actually really cute. America looked away blushing.
"Oh, so you won't mind me telling about the multilingual, classic-loving, chickflick-watching, five-star-chef of nerd you are underneath?" Denmark teased, almost threatened with his height.
"Alright. Alright. An awesome secret it is." Alfred brought his hand out which was shook rather firmly by Matthias. "But you owe me lunch at Noma."
"Dude, I can just make ya the food they serve there." the taller man swatted the shorter boy's back causing a small cough.
It was his fucking awesome idea to promote agricultural produce by promoting a modern take on Danish cuisine. And now, he had the best restaurant in the world!
"You're the first person who even bothered taking a second look. Most of the time, I somehow end up in bars where I watch them get drunk and complain about their lives." The older said shyly.
"You're the one who never saw me as an asshole with a six-year-old's brain." America smiled weakly in genuine gratitude.
"I try my best." The older teased looking at the pouting blonde. His icy-blues open this time in slight softness as he never really meant to offend him. In all honesty, his brothers were a lot more meddlesome when they were younger than the American.
There was a warm silence between the two blondes as they leaned on the countertop that was made of white granite, side by side. America grinned not really minding the comment.
"Ya know what?" Denmark pushed himself off. "I think I need just a little alcohol in me t'night." He gestured with his forefinger and thumb squinting closer to each other.
The man turned around and opened a gigantic cabinet, which America was surprised he didn't notice. It was sectioned into three parts. The first one was full of vodka, bourbon, scotch, whiskey, and other types of alcoholic drinks. The other section was purely stacked with wine and the last section was all beer. The collection of nectar looked expensive and opened to a minimum.
'Guess he really doesn't drink that much.' America reiterated the newly-discovered fact.
"Also, next time, Ya shouldn't just associate me with beer, my palette is wider than that. I love all my alcohol babies!" Matthias smiled as he got out some bottles of different drinks.
"So, what d'ya want?" the Dane's grin was warm with his posture seductive, placing all his weight on the hand that was on the counter top while his other hand was resting on his free hip.
"Don't tell me that you're a bartender too?" America mirrored the position.
"I might know a thing or two…you?" the man's smug smirk widened.
"Maybe a little…" there was definitely an air that contradicted the innocent remark.
"Irish Car comb?" Denmark took out a bottle of Irish cream, whiskey and stout.
"Keep'em flowin'!" a loud laugh erupted from the younger nation as he watched the skillful hands of the Dane.
"To bros?" 'I mean, lovers' America bit his tongue back to not make the moment awkward.
"To bros." Denmark took a long shot of the strong drink, pushing all the warm and fuzzy feelings back inside him.
Alright, we noticed that we haven't been looking at anything that has to do with history. So I hope you can suggest any other random thoughts that would be awesome to right about, dudes, it is okay if it had nothing to do with history and relations but it is a welcomed thought.
STAY AWESOME!