Because I have a really really big love for SuNor.
Apologies to the SuFin diehards out there~
just so you know I adore SuFin as well, so... /shrug
His name was Finland, Sweden had told him.
Sweden had told him a lot of things.
He had murmured sweet words, promises of forever, declarations of something undying.
Norway had believed him, every word, because more often than not, he had been whispering sweet Norwegian nothings into the taller man's ear. He was as at fault as Sweden, getting so caught up like this. It was strange really, how suddenly and shockingly it had all started, and changed into something quite wonderful. In Norway's eyes, at least.
This new boy, this Finland, was not as impressive as Norway had thought.
The boy was small, and disappointingly skinny. With those large violet eyes, and that pale blonde hair, he was entirely unassuming, and if nothing else, a little bit boring.
Seated in a hall, surrounded by only Denmark's closest and most trusted, sat three chairs, on a raised platform. These were for Sweden, Norway and himself. H fancied himself like a king, ruling over these harsh Northern countries. He liked to pretend, to imagine that he had such power and respect. And when he pretended, he was King of all, more important than Sweden and Norway. He was their king especially, insane and unable to stop grinning. Norway just let him pretend. As Sweden had led the boy in, Norway watched with impassive eyes. Denmark, sat by his side, grinned.
Sweden cleared his throat slightly, and the boy beside him flinched.
Norway saw it, and his face remained emotionless.
He had never been afraid of Sweden.
"F'nl'nd." Sweden said simply, gesturing to the young man, as if he could have been anyone else.
Denmark laughed jubilantly and leapt from his chair, bounding down to scoop the young man up in a bear hug. When he was released, his eyes were rather wide, his face rather pale. "Good to meet ya, Finland! You're gonna fit right in, I'm sure!" There was a second of silence, as if he was expecting a response but couldn't be silent long enough to hear it. "I'm Denmark, and this is Norway!" He gestured to Norway, who didn't move, apart from to give one dismissive nod.
He had lost interest in this new boy, and his eyes drifted back to Sweden. Sweden, who now stood awkwardly, watching with worried eyes as Denmark manhandled this new arrival.
After a moment their eyes met, Norway trying to tell Sweden he wanted him to come to his bedroom that night, because they had not been together in a while, and Norway had missed him. He was about to open his mouth and call over the Swede, when Sweden turned away, to softly ask Finland something, inquiring if he was alright.
Norway's hands balled into fists, and he left the hall, sick of everyone in it.
The days passed, and the time Sweden would usually have spent with Norway was now spent with this timid violet eyed boy.
He seemed to take it upon himself to look after him, show him around, protect him from Denmark's sporadic good humour. He made sure he had everything he could need, or want, and he seemed to make it his aim to ensure that Finland was happy.
It was clear to everyone that Sweden was becoming quite besotted, even though he himself was barely aware it was happening.
Norway began to hate Finland.
It was nothing the boy had done, per say. The boy was perfectly polite, perfectly well behaved. He was scared, more than anything. But Norway disliked him, and what he had done to the relationship of the three who owned the chairs on a raised platform.
Norway would see Sweden watch over the boy, and he would watch Denmark drink. He would watch Sweden retire for the night, checking before he went that Finland was happy and ready to retire to his own room. It became less and less frequent that Sweden would come to say goodnight to Norway in his own special way, all soft caresses and kisses on his neck.
Norway began to miss it, and he began to notice just how much he depended on Sweden to make him feel like he wasn't missing a limb.
Norway was never one for words. He didn't like to speak, often thinking it unnecessary.
And it was because of this foolish decision that he saw Sweden drift away from him.
Just because he never said anything to stop what happened.
Dinner time was perhaps the worst time for Norway. Denmark would have their dinner brought to the cosiest room he owned, with a fire burning and furs draped about the place. The room was small, intimate. That was how Denmark liked it when it came to his family, these two blonde boys and their newest addition.
Denmark was sat on his chair, Norway sat on the floor beside him, on a pile of furs far too soft for their own good. Sweden was opposite him, and Finland next to the Swede.
As they ate, no one spoke. In fact there was no noise, other than the crackling of the fire, and the unnecessary loudness of Denmark's chewing.
And suddenly, "U-um, Sweden?" Finland asked awkwardly. That was another thing that annoyed Norway; Finland's accent. It was so thick, so hard to understand. His language was so different from the rest of them. In Norway's eyes, he was an outsider, because his language would never really mesh with theirs.
Sweden looked at him, quietly curious. "I-I was just wondering…will you take me to the sea tomorrow?"
Sweden raised an eyebrow, confused. "Th' sea?"
Finland nodded briskly. "I…if you don't mind, that is…I love the sea, and you were going to tell me more about your travels in your ships."
There was a moment of awkward silence, as Sweden took all this in. Norway watched him, his jaw set.
"Sounds like a great idea!" Denmark suddenly announced. "We'll all go, tomorrow!" He glanced down at the slender man to his right. "Oi, Norge, you up for that?"
Norway turned to look at him slowly. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sweden look at him, imploringly. He sighed. "Yes. Fine."
He didn't look once at Sweden as he went back to his food.
"Thank you." Finland said quietly. Norway nodded, but he knew the comment was not directed at him. It was directed at the tall man opposite him.
That night, to Norway's surprise, Sweden appeared in his bedroom. There was no explanation, no apologies. Sweden didn't ask why there were tears in Norway's eyes; he already knew.
He loved him until they were all gone.
When Norway awoke, his bed contained only him. This time Sweden couldn't get rid of his tears, he wasn't there to witness them.
Norway announced to the others that he wasn't going with them on their little excursion. He looked at Denmark and Finland, but his eyes flittered past Sweden without a second thought.
After that announcement, he left the room. It wasn't long before he heard Sweden's heavy footsteps behind him, hurrying to catch up.
"Norge!" He shouted, and the smaller man stopped, but didn't turn around. "Wh't's wr'ng?" He asked, catching up with him, peering anxiously at him.
Norway smiled ruefully. "Nothing's wrong. Go on, Finland's waiting for you." His voice took on an edge that Sweden instantly disliked.
"H've I d'ne s'meth'ng?" He asked quietly.
Norway looked at him, disbelieving. He had thought that Sweden was perceptive. Norway smiled again. "No. Now go on, they're waiting. You'll be back late, so don't wake me up when you get in." His eyes narrowed as Sweden flushed.
It was evident that Sweden hadn't planned to come to Norge's room that night.
"Hmm, as I thought." Norway said after Sweden's silence became conclusive. He turned to walk away again.
A hand grabbed his wrist.
Sweden spun him around, and without hesitation he crashed their lips together. His kiss was how it had been the night before, frantic and needy but so full of affection it was almost beyond belief.
Norway didn't let himself get too carried away. His eyes snapped open, his hands removed themselves from Sweden's hair.
He pushed him away. "Go on." He said in a quiet voice, suddenly not able to look at the tall man. "They're waiting."
This time there was no hand stopping him as he carried on his way down the corridor. "I l've you, Norge." Sweden called.
Norway bowed his head, but he didn't say anything as he rounded a corner and vanished from Sweden's sight.
Sweden returned to Denmark and Finland, and didn't say anything. They set out on the short journey to Denmark's coast. They spent the day exploring the expansive beaches, looking into every cave and skimming rocks into the grey ocean. The sky was overcast, the wind quite cold. Still, they enjoyed themselves, and Sweden managed to forget about the look on Norway's face when he pushed him away, at least for a little while.
Norway stayed in Denmark's house, watching the smoke of the fire curling up into the grey sky. He wondered if Finland would be the end of Sweden and himself.
Sweden, who had been his first kiss, his first time, his first love. He wondered if Sweden would be Finland's first kiss, his first time, his first love. He just didn't know, but from his point of view, it didn't look good.
Sweden did wake Norway up when he returned. He shook him out of unconsciousness with a hand on his shoulder. Norway opened his eyes, and the next moment Sweden had his arms wrapped around him tightly. "…'m s'rry, Norge, 'm so s'rry." His voice was quiet, barely audible. "It's 'll my f'lt, 'm s'rry."
Norway, hesitantly, wrapped his arms around the taller man's shoulders. "Do you love him?" He asked, as afraid of the question itself as the answer that would come.
Sweden shook a little, and it was only later that Norway would realise it was because he was crying, and a sob was heaving through him. "I…"
"That's a yes, Sweden." Norway said softly, only tightening his grip around the man.
"I c'n't h'lp it, Norge, he's…he's…oh, G'd, Norge, I'm so s'rry."
"Ssh." Norge said suddenly. "Stop that." There was silence for a few moments. "We've had a good run, eh? And…and you never said this was forever, right?"
He had promised forever, once. But that was long ago.
"Right?" He prompted, a little more forcefully.
Sweden just nodded, unable to say any more. He pressed a kiss to both of Norway's cheeks, before leaning in to press their mouths together, lingering.
It was a goodbye kiss, Norway thought.
Sweden stayed with him until he fell asleep again, and when the morning light shone into the room, the man was gone.
Sweden was whispering into Finland's ear, and the smaller man was blushing and grinning, trying to brush Peter's hair at the same time.
Norway regarded the three of them from his place next to Denmark at the breakfast table.
Peter was scowling, disliking having his hair brushed, and when he was released he laughed happily and ran off to find Hanatamago. Finland turned to face Sweden, leaning up to whisper something in return. Sweden went bright red, and promptly went to make more coffee.
Finland came over and sat down opposite Denmark, who was too busy eating bacon to notice his presence. Norway did, and smiled politely at him. Finland smiled back.
Norway finished his breakfast in silence, leaving the room to put his dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sweden was still in there, waiting for the water to boil.
Norway cleared his throat, and Sweden looked over his shoulder, and stepped aside so Norway could open the dishwasher.
"Thanks." Norway murmured, stepping back again.
"Hm." Sweden said. "D'ya want a c'ffee?"
Norway nodded after a moment's deliberation. "Please." He said.
A few minutes later, and Sweden had four cups of coffee made, each with varying amounts of sugar in them. He took through Denmark and Finland's, returning and reaching for his own.
Norway, too, wrapped his fingers around his mug, feeling the warmth that radiated from it. For a moment the two, both leaning against the kitchen counter, drank in silence.
"How's Tino doing?" Norway asked, if only to break the tension.
"F''ne." Sweden replied. "'nd…'nd you?"
"Me?" Norway asked. "Oh. I'm alright. Can't complain, you know?"
Sweden nodded, indicating he did. "I, w'll, I actu'lly meant…if you're alr'ght wit' me n' Tino…I kn'w it's n't the eas'st th'ng in the w'rld…"
Norway shrugged and nodded, gazing down into his half empty coffee mug. "It's been at least 900 years, Sweden. I'm alright."
"Ja, but are you?" Sweden pressed.
Norway looked at him funny. "Yes. We're friends now, Sweden." There was a pause. "Best friends." Sweden just looked at him. "And, you know…I guess I still do love you…but not as I did back then."
The sound of Norway placing his mug on the counter was far too loud to Sweden's ears. He came closer and hopped up onto the counter, and linked an arm through Sweden's. "I'm aware of all this remorse and guilt you're feeling…but it's alright. We were young back then, young and inexperienced. And you're so, so happy with Tino. It makes me happy to see it."
"I w'ldn't leave Tino f'r the w'rld." Sweden said. "B't s'metimes I…I w'nder what it'd be l'ke 'f we'd…st'yed t'gether."
"Hmm." Norway agreed, his voice taking on an edge of sadness. "I do too."
"It d'sn't do to dw'll 'n the p'st, I guess."
Norway nodded, agreeing. "You really are my best friend, Sweden. You always will be."
There was a moment of embarrassed silence. "…You've alw'ys b'n my b'st fr'nd, Norge."
Norway smiled, and so did Sweden.
At that moment, Tino came into the room. He saw the two of them, Norway with an arm around Sweden, and Sweden blushing slightly.
But, he didn't worry. He didn't stress, or get paranoid. He trusted Berwald with his life, and he trusted Norway nearly as much. He placed his now empty mug in the sink, leaned up to kiss Berwald on the cheek, and left the two of them.
Sweden blushed watching him leave. "Jag älskar dig." He called spontaenously. Tino replied in a similar manner as he went to find Peter.
There was silence again as Norway looked at Sweden. The smaller man chuckled. "Look at you. Blushing like a school girl who's got a crush."
Sweden actually laughed. "Sh't up." He muttered, nudging Norway playfully.
This was always how it was with Norway. Easy, relaxed, playful. And although there were still some minor problems, and a slight sense of awkwardness between them, and things for Norway to forgive Sweden for, Norway really was his best friend, and he did love him, with all his heart.
yes of course it's a word.