A/N: I would like to thank my FABULOUS beta, plug in bb, because this story would be really shady without her. She pointed out my OOC and the only thing she knows about Hetalia is that GerIta is canon. That's what I call beta-ing a fic.

This fic was written because there is not enough DenNor in the world. Thank you for your time.


At first, it had been extremely strange, unsettling even. Denmark was always loud, and Norway thought that, after he finally became his own country, the long-needed silence would be comforting.

It wasn't. Well, not exactly.

Not to say that he missed Denmark or anything. It was more like he had become accustomed to having him around, and now that he wasn't anymore, there was an awkward space left were he used to be. At first, Norway can remember looking forward to the noise that came along with the brash Dane's visits because it was familiar, and he created a nice separation in the blocks of silence that now composed Norway's life.

Okay, so maybe he missed him a little.

But, after a year or so, the quiet grew familiar and quite comfortable. The silence became the norm, and Denmark was the unsettling difference in Norway's life, showing up to create chaos and upheaval whenever he could. Unfortunately, now that Norway wanted to, to put it lightly, never see Denmark again, the more often he had too. International politics had become so complicated in recent decades, that avoiding meetings and bureaucracy with countries of all sorts was entirely unavoidable. Just thinking about the next United Nations conference made Norway sigh in relief of the fact that he wasn't in the European Union and forced to deal with more red tape than he was already tied up in.

Sometimes, even Norway had to admit he missed the days when international problems could be solved by a simple invasion or declaration of war.

So, the silence that he had found for a little while was gone in a fleeting moment when, suddenly, being a nation was a lot more arduous task than it had been before. And, visits from Denmark were growing increasingly more obnoxious as the years went on.

Needless to say, Denmark visited as often as he could.

Now was one of those times.

"You do realize that you were here yesterday, right?" Norway asked the Dane currently making himself comfortable in Norway's kitchen. The Dane currently making himself comfortable in Norway's kitchen at ten-thirty at night, he might add.

"Yes! And I think we should hang out more often! We hardly ever see each other!" Denmark exclaimed, turning away from Norway's refrigerator to throw an arm around the smaller nation. "Wanna get drunk?"

Norway sighed; only Denmark would say that they "never see each other" when they had seen each other nearly every day for the past two-and-a-half weeks.

"Denmark, I have seen you every day this week and at the World Summit meeting we had last Wednesday. Plus, you, Sweden, Finland, Iceland, and I all had dinner the Saturday before that," Norway said, attempting to pull away form Denmark's grasp.

"…You're point is?" Denmark questioned after asserting his grip on Norway. "Let's go somewhere where we don't have to deal with that Swedish bastard, just you and me. How about that restaurant near the bookstore you like so much, or the one across from that bar we went to last week?"

"You can let go of me now."

"Or we can go to that sleazy diner that you pretend not to like even though you're a regular…"

"Would you let go?" Norway grunted, struggling against the arm that was currently crushing him into Denmark's side.

"And there's that fancy-schmancy place in Oslo next to the theater…"

"If I go with you will you let go?" Norway demanded as angrily as he could, despite losing his irritation in favor of exasperation.

"So, what do you say?" Denmark said, ignoring Norway but softening his grip. "Your choice."

Norway wrenched himself out of Denmark's hold before contemplating the option that would leave him in the Dane's presence for the least amount of time. He then looked at the clock on the wall and remembered exactly what time it was. "'That sleazy diner' is the only place open at eleven o'clock at night."

"It's only ten-thirty!"

"It'll be eleven by the time we get there," Norway rolled his eyes.

"Oh, right," Denmark frowned before a large grin split across his face. "Let's go!"


Although the trip to the so-called "sleazy" diner should have only taken ten or fifteen minutes, thanks to Denmark's behaviorally-challenged antics, it was indeed eleven when the pair walked through the doors of "Matilda's" and were greeted by a middle-aged women with a pencil tucked behind her ear.

"Hey there, sweetie, you bring your boyfriend this time?" she asked, smirking from behind the corner, her eyes assessing Denmark.

"W-what? We're not…we're not—"

"Go ahead and sit anywhere you want, sugar," she grinned, cutting off a faltering Norway. "I'm going to wake the cook."

"Yeah, let's sit down, honey," Denmark smirked, putting a hand on the small of Norway's back.

"Let go!" Norway flinched away from him and fled to the first booth. Denmark laughed heartily and sat down across from him

They sat in an awkward silence for a while. Denmark took in the scenery of the place (red, vinyl seats; yellow, chipped walls; worn, old-fashioned counters) while Norway silently studied Denmark's face. He was about to say something when the waitress returned from the kitchen, placing menus on the table.

"Hey there, my name's Anna, and I'll be you're server today," Anna smiled. "We don't really have anything left except for coffee and French fries, but we could get you a burger if you really wanted one."

"Just coffee would be fine," Norway smiled softly at the waitress.

"Err, yeah, coffee sounds good," Denmark wavered, glancing at Norway.

"Excellent, I'll have that out for you in a jiffy," Anna scribbled something on a notepad before frisking back towards the kitchen.

"If you weren't going to eat anything, why did you insist we go out?" Norway questioned, throwing Denmark a slight glare.

Denmark had the audacity to look sheepish. "I wasn't hungry," he insisted, ignoring Norway's mumble about incompetence. "I just wanted to spend time with you."

"We could've stayed in," Norway pointed out, his glare intensifying.

"It's not the same!" Denmark whined.

Norway was about to mention just how much of an idiot he was, when Anna returned at put two cups of coffee in front of them.

"There you go, darling. Cream and sugar's on the table. Just give a holler if you need anything. Enjoy!" she winked, inexplicably, before turning on her heel and disappearing back in the kitchen once again.

The two nations sat in another brief silence as they each customized their coffee to their liking. Denmark stirred in two packets of sugar in his coffee, while Norway poured cream in his until it could hardly be called brown anymore. Denmark glanced warily at Norway as he took a sip from his not-coffee.

"That's disgusting."

"What's disgusting?" Norway asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The way you drink your coffee: it doesn't even look like coffee anymore," Denmark claimed, still grimacing at said coffee.

Norway shrugged and put down his mug. "This is how I've always taken it."

Then, without warning, Denmark reached over, snatched the brownish milk, and took a sip. He choked. "That is nasty!"

Norway glared at Denmark for what must have been the fiftieth time that night and grabbed his coffee from the other side of the table. "You didn't have to drink it," he huffed.

"How can you stand that?" Denmark demanded with a look on his face somewhere between real wonder, complete amusement, and borderline revulsion.

Norway averted his eyes from the older nation, fighting back a blush.

"What, are you blushing?" Denmark wondered in amazement. "Okay, now you have to tell me the story behind your coffee-flavored cream."

"It's nothing!" Norway responded, a little too quickly. "I just never liked the taste of coffee."

"Then why'd you order some?" Denmark laughed. Norway just turned redder and mumbled something inaudible. "What's that? Can't hear you," Denmark sang, leaning over the table.

"Because I like it this way, okay? Can we talk about something else?"

"Definitely not. What's up with the coffee?"

"There's nothing to say."

"Just tell me; I won't laugh."

"There's nothing to tell!"

"There has to be a reason for this. No man would do that to an innocent cup of coffee of his own accord."

"It reminds me of you, okay?" Norway snapped, staring down his cup of coffee. "You always used to drink coffee, and it reminds me of you, happy?"

Denmark gaped at Norway, who was still avoiding looking at him, and then the corners of his mouth upwards. "…Reminds you of me?" he asked, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "Aw, Nor! I miss you, too! But that's not any excuse to murder coffee"

"I do not miss you. In fact I'd rather see you less often than I already have too," Norway said stubbornly before continuing. "It's just that," Norway paused, looking pointedly away from Denmark, "maybe I was a little lonely when we first separated, not missing you or anything," he assured himself, "just missing company in general. And you had a cup of coffee every morning, so I used to make it just because the smell reminded me of you, even though I didn't like it. This is the only way I can drink it," Norway admitted, risking a glance up at the older nation, only to find him leaning over the table and staring into space, mouth slightly agape, having some sort of internal debate.

Then, so unexpected that Norway didn't even see it coming, Denmark leaned in and pressed his lips against Norway's in a surprisingly tentative kiss, knocking over the salt shaker and spilling what little remained of the cream on the floor. The kiss was so soft, that Norway had to open his eyes to be sure it was even happening at all.

It was definitely happening.

Norway was trying to think of a way to respond to the situation logically, but his thoughts weren't exactly coherent at the moment, and he was slightly alarmed to find that he'd been kissing Denmark back, though in the same hesitant fashion. So, Norway did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the time: he closed his eyes.

And, there is a slight chance that he might have woven his fingers through Denmark's hair, and maybe he tilted his head and—but that's beside the point.

After a moment that seemed to go on forever but not last nearly long enough at the same time, Denmark pulled away, and Norway was embarrassed to find that he leaned forward in a blind attempt to continue. Norway opened his eyes and looked up at Denmark, who had an undecipherable look on his face.

"Nor, if you ever, ever, feel lonely, or you miss me, even for a second, you know you can always call or text or anything," he paused, losing the look and replacing it immediately with a cheeky grin before continuing. "Don't take it out on the poor coffee, for Christ's sake."

"It's kind of hard for me to miss you when you feel the need to invade my house every day," Norway crossed his arms, shooting a stern look across the table.

Denmark broke into a wide, beaming grin. "That's the idea. If I'm away from you for even a second, I miss you like crazy."

Norway shot his eyes up to meet Denmark's, which were soft and kind, despite him grinning like an idiot. Norway opened his mouth to say something but found he couldn't think of anything to say, so he just closed it. The two Nordics stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment before Norway couldn't help himself.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Denmark asked, tilting his head.

"You just kissed me, you idiot!" Norway threw his arms above his head. Was it really possible for someone to be this stupid?

"Talk about it? What's there to say? I love you," Denmark stated simply, "ever since we first spilt. I mean, it was so hard to do everyday things without you. I couldn't sleep not knowing where you were, couldn't eat without you next to me," he looked up and grinned, "couldn't drink coffee when you didn't make it. Of course, I tried to deny it, but the next time I saw Hungary, well you know how she gets. So she enlisted Finland's help and confronted me, something about yearning and wasted time or whatever. And that night we all had dinner, Finland cornered me in the bathroom saying 'enough is enough'; so I've been trying to find a way to say it all week, but I had to find the right moment, you know?"

Norway, utterly dumbfounded, did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the time: he grabbed Denmark's shirt and kissed him again. Unlike Norway, Denmark wasted no time reciprocating, snaking his arms behind Norway's neck.

Unfortunately, their setting, which really wasn't much of a concern the first time, didn't exactly lend itself to kissing when they tried it the second. This time, hands and tongues got involved, and the table between the two was a rather unfortunate hindrance. They realized that soon enough, when both cups of coffee tipped over, spilling over the table and onto the floor.

"Oh!" Norway remarked when they both pulled away at the sound of the clattering, reaching to grab a now empty cup before it rolled off the table.

The two glanced at each other, taking in their messy, blushing appearances and coffee-soaked clothing. "We should clean this up," Norway stated.

There was another silence before Denmark burst into laughter.

"What?" Norway asked in annoyance.

"We're both covered in coffee, at a shady diner, in the middle of nowhere, at midnight. It's a little hilarious," Denmark remarked, smiling broadly.

"Why the hell are we even here at midnight in the first place?" Norway wondered aloud, grinning slightly in spite of himself.

"Because I wanted to take you on a date. It didn't turn out so bad, if I do say so myself," Denmark smirked, his eyes resting on Norway's flushed appearance.

And, once again, Norway was speechless, but not exactly in the way he had been before. "Next time just ask me, you idiot. Don't barge into my house at ungodly hours of the night and force me out of my home," he glared at the other nation, grabbing napkins from the dispenser. Denmark followed suit, and the two of them worked on wiping up the mess they had made of the place.

"Hey, Nor?" Denmark spoke aloud after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Norway responded, not looking up from the mess.

"Wanna go on a date? I know you're not doing anything tomorrow night."

Norway felt his face heat up and continued to look at the ground. "…Fine."

"How's about we go to the place across from the bookstore? It isn't too fancy, but it's a hell of a lot nicer than this."

"Sounds great," Norway replied, keeping his eyes fixed on a particularly interesting crack in the tile.


It was almost midnight by the time everything was cleaned up, and Denmark paid for the coffee when Norway had his back turned, throwing away all the sopping napkins. In an ostentatious manner, he held open the door and beamed, "After you, Nor," as the two were leaving.

Out of the corner of his eye, Norway couldn't help noticing Denmark's arm hanging languidly by his side while they were walking home. Feeling a little daring, Norway reached for his hand and pretended not to notice when Denmark's face lit up.


A/N: My dad drinks coffee that way. It's enraging. And, now I'd like to present you with an outtake from my IM conversation with my beta:

plug in bb
btw, darling, sugar, etc. ARE WE IN TEXAS?
Lanaroolz
IDK THATS WHAT I THINK OF WHEN I THINK SHADY DINERS
ESP. AT MIDNIGHT
DONT ASK
plug in bb
nooo shady diners are buff cooks with tattoos
NOT nice waitresses named Anna
Lanaroolz
hes in the back
ill have him appear in an omake or something, how about that?
plug in bb
YAY

So, without further ado...

OMAKE

"Why did you wake me up if they weren't going to order anything?" Gus narrowed his eyes at Anna, who was currently switching on the coffee machine.

"Because you have to see this," she insisted, but before she could continue, Gus cut her off.

"Oh God, not this again. You do this every time two guys come in together. You're delusional, it's not cute, and they're probably not gay."

"No, you don't understand. You should have seen the taller one's face when the other one smiled. If it's not love, it's definitely denial."

Gus sighed. He wasn't awake enough to argue with Anna and her creepy obsession with gay guys. "Okay, but if I see no evidence that they're together, you owe me fifty dollars."

"Same goes to you, if they are," Anna grinned mischievously.

"Deal," Gus agreed, holding out a large hand, and they shook on it.

Gus had to admit that he was a little glad that Anna was such a creeper because, even though he most definitely did not swing that way, the people-watching he ended up doing as a result of her strange obsession was usually really entertaining. Also, the extra twenty bucks he ended up taking home every other night was a nice touch, too.

The shorter one, whom Gus didn't believe ever smiled, despite Anna's claim, seemed just plain irked at life in general, and the taller one was completely aware. In fact, he took advantage of it, which was kind of hilarious. But, if was being completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that these two were at least very good friends. It was hard to explain, but just the way they interacted with each other implied a kind of intimacy that was hard to describe. "Doesn't mean they're gay," He remarked when the taller one took a drink from the shorter's coffee.

"Just wait," Anna replied, staring intently at them, completely dismissing Gus's comment.

Okay, so the color of the shorter's face wasn't helping his cause, but you could get embarrassed about anything! Still nothing conclusi—oh.

"Fifty bucks," Anna smirked, holding out her hand, reluctantly looking away from the two...kissing guys.

"Fine," Gus sighed, going to get his wallet out of his leather jacket, "but this—are you taking pictures?" he asked, incredulously.

"Some girl came in the other day and told me to look out for two blond guys and take pictures if anything happened."

"Wait, so you knew that they were gay?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Screw that, you ain't getting my money."

"We shook on it!"

"No, that's cheating."

"Fine, but you have to clean up that."

Gus look back at the two men only to find their table entirely covered in coffee. "...Where's my wallet?"

"That's what I thought."