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Dancing with the Swede and other Stories	By : LadyKnightSkye Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1918 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine nor do I may money on it. All I own is a gutter mind and smart mouth.

Chapter List
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So, most of the one-shots here were originally written for the Hetalia Kink Meme. Me, being me, somehow managed to start taking a bunch of unrelated requests - mostly revolving around Sweden - and turning them into a semi-connected narrative. This is actually like the fourth story I completed for the meme, but it's the earliest in my Head!Canon chronology. Enjoy this and the others stories within.

Dancing with the Swede

Characters/Pairings: GerSu, Denmark, Prussia

Warnings: None

Kink Meme Prompt: Sweden + any, Drunk Sweden

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Something was rotten in Denmark.

            Or at least, something was rotten in Denmark’s refrigerator. Germany couldn’t help but begin searching for the offending foodstuff. He didn’t want any of the intoxicated Nations in the living room to come in and accidentally get food poisoning. Okay, he didn’t want Prussia to come in and get food poisoning, because guess who would have to take care of him? Not his Little Master, that was for sure.

            “Ah ha!” He pulled out the fish and threw it into the waste basket. It was as he was washing his hands when someone came up behind him. He tensed, but before he could whirl, strong arms wrapped around his waist. A chin rested on his shoulder, and the person said something to him. It was too slurred for him to really understand, but he thought it was either Norwegian or Swedish. The person behind him was at least as tall as he was, so it was unlikely to be Norway . . .

            “Sweden?”

            “Ja?”

            “What are you doing?”

            Sweden nuzzled the back of Germany’s neck causing the other man to shiver. “Hugging you.”

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re cute.”

            Germany had been called many things by many people. Ruthless, soulless, single-minded, uncaring, hide-bound, anal-retentive, and a total meanie to name a few. But he’d never, never been called cute. Even by his best friend Italy. “How am I cute?”

            “You just are,” was the reply. Sweden hugged him tighter, causing Germany to wheeze a bit. Sweden began to sway, taking Germany with him. This is how Germany found himself slowly waltzing backwards around Denmark’s kitchen. It was awkward to the extreme, and Germany was pretty sure that he was the woman in the partnership, but it was also strangely fun.

            “Sweden, why are you dancing with me around a kitchen?”

            “Because I want to.”

            “But why do you want to?”

            “Why did I go running around Russia raiding villages?”

            “Because you wanted to?”

            “Ja.”

            Germany shook his head and let the Swede expertly steer them around the room. Sweden was humming the music even though Denmark’s Danish Pop blared in the next room. “Sweden, will I have to fight you to get free?”

            Sweden stopped. “You don’t want to dance with me?” His voice sounded like Germany had just kicked his dog. The former Viking’s hands disappeared from Germany’s body, and oddly, he missed them on his waist.

            “No,” he sighed, turning around and taking Sweden’s hand. “I just want to do it properly. I am German, you know.” He could finally look Sweden in the face. The Swede’s blond hair was mussed, and his cheeks were flushed. His blue eyes were heavy-lidded.

            Germany started up the rhythm of the dance again. He was still the girl in the pair, but he didn’t mind because of the look on Sweden’s face. His grin was infectious, and soon both were laughing as they waltzed around Denmark’s kitchen. When their lips met in a kiss, Germany stumbled, but recovered quickly. The kiss was pretty nice considering Sweden’s level of intoxication, and anyway, he was cute. Both of them were cute.

            “Hey, Germany, did you –“ Denmark stopped in his tracks. His beloved rebel brother and his cool cousin were making out in his kitchen. He watched as Sweden broke the kiss and swung Germany back into the waltz. Neither one noticed he was there. He couldn’t decide if he was amused or angry. He leaned towards amused right now. “Oh lovebirds!”

            Germany would have leapt away but Sweden pulled him back into the taller Nation’s chest. “Can’t have him.”

            Denmark laughed uproariously, finally deciding that amused was the way to go. “No, no, you can have Germany. He’s all yours. I just need to know if he found the spinach dip.”

            Germany glanced at the fridge. “No. I got distracted.” Sweden took that as his cue to start dancing again.

            “I can see that.” Denmark moseyed over to the fridge and grabbed the dip. “Hey, where’s my fish?”

            Germany looked over his shoulder. “It was rotten so I threw it out.” Sweden giggled.

            Denmark gave a small shriek. “Dude, have you heard of personal bounderies?!”

            Sweden and Germany shared a look. Then they burst out laughing. The irony was too delicious for them to ignore.

            Denmark simply huffed out of the kitchen. He gaily reentered the party. It was awhile later that Prussia tapped him on the shoulder. “Yo Denny, you seen my brother?”

            Denmark snorted, still miffed about his fish. “Last time I saw him he was dancing with Sweden in the kitchen.”

            Even sober, Prussia’s face would have been hilarious. The albino German’s jaw was somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles and his eyes were the size of saucers. He turned and sprinted into the kitchen, causing several of the other party-goers to chatter in confusion. Prussia came back out a moment later. He was holding a strip of paper.

            “What’s up?” Denmark asked.

            Prussia’s face was utterly confused. “He went home with Sweden.”

            “Hunh, Sweden must have been more smashed than I thought. Nice of Germany to take him home.”

            “No, he went home with Sweden!” Prussia moaned.

            “Wait, like went home, went home?”

            “Yes!”

The two of them shared a look. “Our brothers?”

            “Together?”

            They took a moment to really think about that. Germany and Sweden. The Viking conqueror who didn’t mind kicking Denmark’s ass and the autocratic drill sergeant who didn’t mind kicking Prussia’s ass. Together together.

            The rest of the party was completely confused when the two of them started screaming in utter terror.
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Dancing with the Swede and other Stories