#sassymelons

The day had been long, and Norway wanted nothing more than to get home and cuddle up with his partner on the sofa, and watch some old Disney film that would make the other want to cuddle even more, and Norway would be happy to oblige. They could reheat some pasta from the night before, eat in boiling hot out of the microwave, and not even care that it would burn their tongues because they were both starving. After all, Finland had said he wouldn’t be home until ten. It was five past ten now, and Norway thought that would be the perfect moment to get home and see the other.

As he got out of the car, however, he noticed that there were no lights turned on. There was no other car in the driveway, and the door was still locked when he reached it. Tino wasn’t home yet. And something about that fact down heartened him a little.

Letting himself into their home, he shivered at how cold it was. Even in what should be the end of summer, he could tell that it would get even colder. He could feel it seeping inside of his coat, under his clothing, and into his skin.

Shivering involuntarily, the Norwegian moved to first turn the central heating back on (he really should set it to a timer), then upstairs to the bedroom. Not even having removed his coat, he pulled a few pieces of wood out of the bucket on the mantel piece, and threw them into the grate, along with a few pieces of old newspaper to help it catch. Matches were lit with shaking fingers as he scraped them against the side of the box, until finally he manage to light the chemicals, and then the paper.

Before he’d finally taken up Finland’s offer of a date, he’d never really thought about the fireplace in his bedroom. It was old fashioned, not often done in modern houses, but extremely comfortable. It made the whole place warm and cosy. He liked having it there, if only for that reason. People could call it romantic if they wanted, but he just like the pleasant warmth that came from a freshly lit fire. It would heat a room quicker and better than the heating, that was for certain.

But now he could see what they meant. He relished the idea of cuddling up to the other, especially when it was cold like today. Thinking about it only made the house feel even bigger, more lonely, simply because Finland wasn’t home when he said he would be. Which, Norway had to remind himself, wasn’t unusual – their job was unpredictable and often ran over and they would come home at all manners of the night. It just was unusual that the Finn didn’t ring him first to say so.

Moving away from his spot on the floor, he headed back downstairs to pull off his coat and shoes and more of less abandon them around the dining table, before pulling open the fridge. There was definitely left over pasta, and his rumbling stomach told him that he should eat that now, but in the end he just grabbed the butter, before reaching into the cupboards for the end of the loaf of bread he knew was lying around. Comfort food. He felt like he needed some right about now.

Work had been stressful. Horribly stressful. He’d tried to meet up with Sweden for a meeting about some treaty or other that morning, only to be pulled aside by Germany once again trying to discuss the economy. And by the time he’d derailed that conversation, England was there, waiting to ask about the North Sea oil platforms! So the meeting had had to wait for later, and Norway once again cursed the fact that the World Meeting was in Oslo, that he was the host, and that for three days before hand matters between two or three nations had to be sorted out before the main meeting was to start.

He’d had to text Finland an apology that they wouldn’t be able to get lunch together, something he’d been looking forward to for days, seen as it would have been the first time that he’d seen the other in almost a month, thanks to preparations for the World Meeting and other general work. Now that would have to be tonight. At around six or seven, he’d imagined. Maybe eight at the latest. But, no, that’s not how things work. After finally finishing the meeting with Sweden, none the wiser still about what they were discussing, he had a sandwich forced in front of him by a rather annoyed Iceland, before being dragged off to some meeting with the Icelander and both of their bosses, about something that once again he didn’t know about.

Then, finally, at nine he’d told his boss that enough was enough, he wanted to be home by ten, and he’d been granted a chance to leave. And then for forty-five minutes he’d been arguing with Denmark about how, no, the didn’t want to go drinking with him, and no, he definitely didn’t want to go to bed with him. Also, how did he end up outside of the meeting building when he was clearly drunk off his face, and why was he propositioning him when Sweden was right there standing next to him…

And now he just wanted Finland home. Wanted to see him again so he could hold him close and make him smile and laugh and have him tell Norway how great he was and how one day didn’t matter and everything would get better. He just wanted to hold him, and cuddle him, and kiss him, and make everything feel better.

With a sigh, he was glad that his fingers worked automatically. Reaching out to register the boiling cup of coffee in front of him, he made a happy little sigh when he took the first sip. That was good. That was definitely good.

“You look really cute when you do that, you know.”

Jolting a little, Norway counted his lucky stars that he didn’t spill the coffee down his chest. Because, one, that gave him a large shock. And, two, the man standing in front of him looked all too sheepish and extremely wet.

“It’s raining outside,” the Finn said simply, holding his hands out to show that he was indeed rather wet.

“You should have ran to the car, then.”

“Didn’t have the car. Flew here with my boss, remember? I took the bus.”

Norway just stood for a moment, looking startled, before he grabbed his plate of food and gestured for the other to follow into the dining room. “You’re dripping water onto the clean floor. Can you at least take your coat and shoes off in here? Then its less mess for me to clean up.”

Finland laughed, doing what he was told. Then, as soon as it was done, he shook his head like a wet dog, brushing fingers through his wet hair. “You know, I bet you actually missed me horribly and just don’t want to say it because you’ll feel like a fool.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Getting as close to the other as he could without them being pressed together, Finland gently kissed the corner of his mouth. “You always say that. Remember?” Another kiss, this time a little better placed, this time with a lot of kissing back. “It’s kind of late. It’s got to be about eleven now, right?”

Norway gave him a confused look. “Eleven?”

He glanced at his watch. “Yeah. Eleven o’ five. Why?” No answer. “Norway?”

“I guess I spent more time thinking that I thought…”

Finland laughed, shaking his head. “You always do that, though. So that’s nothing new.” Another quick kiss, another happy sigh, this time accompanied by a happy little smile, which only made Finland grin even more. “Come on. Up to bed. You have to be up early tomorrow, right? So you can’t be asleep too late… And I doubt the coffee will be helping.”

“The coffee is fine.”

“I’m not sure it-”

“I’m not getting rid of my coffee.”

Another fit of giggles and a shake of the head. “You really are adorable, Norway; you know that? But alright, alright – you can drink it. But, seriously, upstairs?”