Well, I just wanted to write something cute, because it's something I enjoy doing, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

I don't own Hetalia! end/AN/

"What is it?"

Denmark groaned as he heard the question once again from Iceland, the chubby tot pressing a cheek against his arm as he held his beer. This was not the first time Iceland had seen beer; far from it, in fact. However, it seemed that he equated 'What is it' with 'Give me a taste,' ever since Finland had so generously let him sample every bit of his cooking as he prepared dinner.

Stupid Finland.

"It's beer, Iceland, you know that. And I can't give you any cause it's a big boy drink!" At Denmark's words, Iceland stood on his toes, stretching to try to get his lips to the edge of the cup. Denmark pulled it out of Iceland's reach once again, with a sigh.

"Look, it's nothing personal; if it were up to me, I'd let you have some. But Nor would kill me if I gave you any, so that's the way it has to be," Denmark explained, and he thought he did so quite clearly. However, Iceland gave a whine, reaching one tiny hand for the cup.

"Gimme!" Denmark promptly flicked Iceland's nose at the demand, reprimanding him, "Uh-uh, what do we say?"

Iceland just shrieked, however, covering his nose and beginning to cry. Wobbly and tearful, out came a 'please', as the free hand stretched for the beer once again.

It was then Denmark realized he was in a sticky spot. Iceland had said please, and he was supposed to go along with him when he said please. However, he was also not supposed to give him beer. Plus, the tot was crying, and who knew how long it would take him to stop.

There was only one solution: give him beer, and make it quick.

"Alright, but don't tell anyone, alright?" He handed the cup to Iceland, who released his nose to clasp it between both hands. Immediately, he tipped the cup to take a huge gulp, and Denmark tried to tip it backwards to make sure he didn't take too much. However, it seemed his work was done for him.

"Pleh!" Iceland sprayed the beer he had gotten in his mouth all over Denmark's extended hand, making a face as though he had eaten the most nasty, sour thing he had ever tasted in his whole life. "Yucky!"

"You're telling me… What did I say about making messes?" Denmark took back his cup, wiping his hand off on his shirt. He felt a little grossed out, but hey, he'd seen and felt worse. However, it seemed he was being ignored, as Iceland shuffled off without a word.

"Ice, are you listening? You're not supposed to make messes!" Like he was one to talk, but he got no reply, which was making him nervous. What if the child was going off to tell Norway? He'd better remind him that it was their little secret.

"Hey! Don't tell Nor, okay?" Hopefully, the tot would keep it between them and Norway would never have to know. Who knew what he might do to him if he found out-

"Don't tell me what, exactly?"

Oh. Wonderful, just wonderful.

/AN/ Yes, incredibly short, but I hope you liked it anyway! It just seemed to me like something Denmark would do.