[Fanfic] Attraction
Title: Attraction
Characters/Pairings: Sweden/Belgium. Nordics and Netherlands/Holland.
Words: 1807
Rating: T
Summary: Belgium was invited to drink with the Nordics and dragged Holland along. They have a nice, short chat, Iceland is devious, and everything goes downhill from there, leaving two characters who thought their paths would never cross. Well, it did. All it took was a few sips. Also on my Journal & hetalia .
xxx
It's been a while since Belgium went up to visit the Nordics. They were just a sea away from her, beyond the fresh smell of sea salt resides a few light-skinned, 'fish-crazy' and kinky nations who loves to have perpetual sex and beer (according to Holland, though he can be the hypocrite). She had been a little fond with the Dane who seemed to love drinking as much as she did. He invited her to a drinking party to get wasted and laugh like the flippant drunks they intend to be. She bothered Holland to come with her since Luxembourg would rather stay back and drink her own 'high-class' alcohol. Fortunately enough, he went with her and accompanied her all the way North in Copenhagen.
"C'mon Holly. They're not bad." Belgium urged as she playfully latched into her older brother's arm. "You should stop frowning like that you know. Geez." Dressed in a light jacket, a tank top, and casual shorts accompanied with boots, she seemed very loose compared to Holland, who wore a leather jacket, a scarf, slacks, a t-shirt, and boots.
Holland continued to frown, his brows furrowed, like always. "I don't like other people. I only came so you wont come here alone. Besides, they rip you off - especially that brat, Iceland. He still owes me a lot." His voice snapped into a snarl at once.
Belgium sighed and then disappointedly let go, her hands swinging by her sides as they both walked into the bar. She thought Iceland was rather cute - his face and pout and all. She assumed that Holland was exaggerating because he always did when it came his constant bickering and complaining.
"Oi! Belgium!" A tall figure with wild, untamed hair and a silly grin waved at the two. He was sitting in a table, surrounded by four other figures - the Nordics. "And Holland! Yeah, hey glad you could make it!"
"Hello!" Finland, one of the most innocent looking out of the five smiled at them. The youngest, Iceland, merely glanced away when it came to eye-contact with Holland. Belgium noticed that her brother and Norway were having some sort of a glaring contest.
Big brother vs. big brother. Good god, she didn't want that. Iceland seemed annoyed too; perhaps he didn't want Norway to fend for him.
Sharply, she glanced to the side and gave him an edge of her own glare. Using peripheral vision, Holland looked back at her and then shrugged, accepting to back down for once. Good boy.
Once she looked back, she noticed that the Swede was looking at her. Sheepishly, she rubbed the back of her neck and smiled, hoping that he would say something. Nope, he just kept staring at her with his... intimidating facial expression.
Goodness, she was getting a little hot under the collar and she had not started drinking yet!
"Don't be shy, yeah, come on and sit down!" Although once he said that, he stood up himself, towering over the rest. Energetically he beckoned the two over, and once they got at a good distance, he sat down again. Proud at himself, he glanced at Norway, who in return, frowned.
Belgium noted that there was only a vacant seat next to Sweden, and to spare her brother's xenophobia, she sat next to him. She would have to admit that she was nervous; this guy, Sweden, really had a scary stare.
Holland leaned forward, his arms propped up and his chin resting on the top of his hands. His eyes glaring at the small Iceland from across the table. He, in fact, glared right back.
"You owe me." Her brother said flatly.
"I'll get it to you later." Iceland replied just as blandly, his eyes insipid and flickering violet.
"You owe me."
Fiercely, Belgium jabbed Holland's rib, forcing him to sit up straight. He stared at her in annoyance. "... Look the drink is here." she said with venom in her words.
"Yeah yeah no more talkin' about money. Ice'll blow up if we keep going on with it." Denmark exclaimed in his usual vibrant voice. "Look the drink! Yeah, finally! Finny what did you choose?"
"Uhm... well Iceland wanted to choose."
Norway casted an inquisitive look. "Will the guests be able to take it?"
"Maybe." he replied boredly.
Belgium, in response, laughed and then beamed. "Oh no we can take it! Come on, Holly and I drink like a million of Heinekens and some Tripel every day! Seriously we don't get beat easily."
Once the waitress set the seven tall mugs and a few shots on the table and then the eye-catching green bottle was last to be placed.
"Oi what is this stuff?"
Holland glanced away. "Might be poisoned."
"Shut up, Holly." Belgium, obviously annoyed, smiled and then pulled the cups over to her Dutch brother and Sweden. The rest took their cups and eyed Iceland. Seriously poisoned? She knew Holland was just making up stuff to find an excuse to leave.
Listlessly, Iceland stared around. "Drink up."
The liquid was poured into each cup by Finland, who had volunteered. Naturally, Denmark poked his nose in to smell the alcohol. "Eh, smells familiar."
Holland held the cup up so he can examine what was in the liquid. "Brandy."
"Shouldn't be too bad, right Sweden?" A hopeful Finland asked sweetly.
The Swede nodded, glanced at Belgium, looked away, and then uttered, "Mm. It's n't b'd ta try."
A little hesitant at first, everyone took a sip of it. Immediately, Norway set it down. "Brennivín." he stated with a bit of disdain.
"That's kinda strong. But it's okay." Finland replied, rubbing his cheek weakly.
"B'tter."
Belgium stuck out her tongue as she made a rasping noise. "Whoa gosh. Not used to this... Not used to this." She took another big sip, hoping that it would kind of act like water to make the headache go away. It didn't.
Denmark, who found this weird sense of courage, gulped it down and was able to wheeze, "N-Not bad!"
The Norwegian next to him whacked his head, "You idiot..." In less than a second, Denmark's face met the table and ceased to move for the rest of the night. For some reason, no one really reacted.
"Svarti dauði." A coy Iceland smiled, reaching over to get his second fill. As the alcohol whirrled around the cup, Holland seemed to tense up. "Black death. A fitting name for a drink that tastes like poison?"
Belgium blinked, quite surprised at the younger nation's taste of... morbid names. "Oh. Um..."
Finland widened his eyes and then poked Denmark numbly with his finger. "D-Den...?" Soon after Norway lifted up Denmark's head by pulling his hair.
"He's out."
"Already?!" The Finnish nation exclaimed in bewilderment.
Just as Iceland was in the process of drinking, still standing, Belgium looked over at Holland. "... Holly."
Holland stood up immediately, completely shocking Belgium, and then pointed an accusing finger at Iceland. "You tried to poison me! You brat, I wont forget this!"
The white haired nation merely smiled, set his cup down after he finished it up, and then ran for it.
"Catch me if you can, fantur!"
Like cat and mouse, Holland ran after him, who was then chased by an angered Norway. Frightened, Finland stood up, walked over Denmark, and told Sweden that he would look for help, leaving an unconscious Dane, a Swede, and a bewildered Belgium.
"What in the world just..."
"D'nno."
Belgium slapped her forehead, seething as she shook her head in shame. Her brother was such a child at times, so much that she could not comprehend it. Weakly, she looked over at Sweden, who did not at all appear interested at the knocked-out blonde over there.
"Ah... hm... Er..." Belgium fiddled with her hair, "Hello... don't think I really said hi, huh? Don't think I got the chance to since... well, we're in a weird situation so. Hi." That was lame, she told herself. Lame. Lame. Lame.
"H'llo." He kept looking at her like that. She felt shivers up her spine, but they were warm as the waterfall of sensation gushed down to her stomache. Belgium felt a little warm, actually, and it might or might not be the drink.
"Ya d'n't seem f'ne."
Belgium fluttered her eyelashes as she moved at a metronomic pace. She leaned on the table for stability, her arm propped up at an angle so her hand held on to her hair. "Think I drank too much of Iceland's Black Death..."
Observing the cup closely, Sweden tilted his head, "Th'nk he p't s'me k'nda dr'g." He tilted again in cogitation, "On acc'd'nt, I bet."
"Oh." Belgium laughed dryly. "He didn't seem like that kind of person. I hope he's doing fine, running away from Holland. He probably wont do anything though... unless Norway starts." She smothered her face with her hands, "Guh I hate it when he does this. Too quick to get into fights."
"I kn'w wh't y'mean." He stared at the unconscious figure of Denmark.
When he was looking away, Belgium just wanted to scoot closer. He was a tall, fine man. He had eyes of an enigma, hidden behind a veil of glass that reflected the dim ceiling lights. A high, straight nose, pursed lips, and an essence of seriousness on his face. He wasn't like Holland or Denmark, no. He spoke a lot less than them. It was sexy.
"You know I always feel overpowered by him. Insecure. We've been alright but things get out of hand." She sighed. "I don't know if you... know but like it's that feeling of a stronger force moving you when you can't do anything? I really, really hate it. Hate it."
"Mm..." He nodded bluntly.
Normally she wouldn't like those kind of people, but his one-lined responses just turned her on at that time. "You don't talk much, eh?" She smiled, giggled girlishly, and then loosened up. "Ugh I haven't felt liket his since forever."
Sweden turned back, directing his attention to her, and then leaned over to examine her face. "Y'sure y'ok?"
His breath, she could feel it. When she looked up, she closed her eyes and then tasted it. Sweet, serious lips, warmth in her bosom, and darkness in her sight. After that, she couldn't recall what had happened. Subconsciously, she felt really strong arms cradling her.
Voices. High and low.
The voice that stood out the most was the one that spoke the least. It had a strange accent with broken up words.
She didn't hate this.
When she woke up, she was in a hotel bed. Belgium had forgotten what had happened and was a little shaken up that she found herself in a new surrounding. Her belongings were in the room - she assumed it was the place she was supposed to stay with her brother. Speaking of which, he wasn't around at all. The nation shifted up and noticed that her clothes from the night before was still on her.
Then she just realized she... she kissed him. Blacked out. He probably carried her here.
A piece of paper fell out from her breast pocket.
"Sorry." it read.
She smiled.
Notes:
Brennivín - Strong Icelandic alcoholic beverage. Nicknamed 'Black Death'. Ominous yeah?
fantur - Bastard or Rogue in Icelandic
Erm. Holland would exaggerate because Amsterdam is obviously not a safe place, yeah? |D;;
Characters/Pairings: Sweden/Belgium. Nordics and Netherlands/Holland.
Words: 1807
Rating: T
Summary: Belgium was invited to drink with the Nordics and dragged Holland along. They have a nice, short chat, Iceland is devious, and everything goes downhill from there, leaving two characters who thought their paths would never cross. Well, it did. All it took was a few sips. Also on my Journal & hetalia .
xxx
It's been a while since Belgium went up to visit the Nordics. They were just a sea away from her, beyond the fresh smell of sea salt resides a few light-skinned, 'fish-crazy' and kinky nations who loves to have perpetual sex and beer (according to Holland, though he can be the hypocrite). She had been a little fond with the Dane who seemed to love drinking as much as she did. He invited her to a drinking party to get wasted and laugh like the flippant drunks they intend to be. She bothered Holland to come with her since Luxembourg would rather stay back and drink her own 'high-class' alcohol. Fortunately enough, he went with her and accompanied her all the way North in Copenhagen.
"C'mon Holly. They're not bad." Belgium urged as she playfully latched into her older brother's arm. "You should stop frowning like that you know. Geez." Dressed in a light jacket, a tank top, and casual shorts accompanied with boots, she seemed very loose compared to Holland, who wore a leather jacket, a scarf, slacks, a t-shirt, and boots.
Holland continued to frown, his brows furrowed, like always. "I don't like other people. I only came so you wont come here alone. Besides, they rip you off - especially that brat, Iceland. He still owes me a lot." His voice snapped into a snarl at once.
Belgium sighed and then disappointedly let go, her hands swinging by her sides as they both walked into the bar. She thought Iceland was rather cute - his face and pout and all. She assumed that Holland was exaggerating because he always did when it came his constant bickering and complaining.
"Oi! Belgium!" A tall figure with wild, untamed hair and a silly grin waved at the two. He was sitting in a table, surrounded by four other figures - the Nordics. "And Holland! Yeah, hey glad you could make it!"
"Hello!" Finland, one of the most innocent looking out of the five smiled at them. The youngest, Iceland, merely glanced away when it came to eye-contact with Holland. Belgium noticed that her brother and Norway were having some sort of a glaring contest.
Big brother vs. big brother. Good god, she didn't want that. Iceland seemed annoyed too; perhaps he didn't want Norway to fend for him.
Sharply, she glanced to the side and gave him an edge of her own glare. Using peripheral vision, Holland looked back at her and then shrugged, accepting to back down for once. Good boy.
Once she looked back, she noticed that the Swede was looking at her. Sheepishly, she rubbed the back of her neck and smiled, hoping that he would say something. Nope, he just kept staring at her with his... intimidating facial expression.
Goodness, she was getting a little hot under the collar and she had not started drinking yet!
"Don't be shy, yeah, come on and sit down!" Although once he said that, he stood up himself, towering over the rest. Energetically he beckoned the two over, and once they got at a good distance, he sat down again. Proud at himself, he glanced at Norway, who in return, frowned.
Belgium noted that there was only a vacant seat next to Sweden, and to spare her brother's xenophobia, she sat next to him. She would have to admit that she was nervous; this guy, Sweden, really had a scary stare.
Holland leaned forward, his arms propped up and his chin resting on the top of his hands. His eyes glaring at the small Iceland from across the table. He, in fact, glared right back.
"You owe me." Her brother said flatly.
"I'll get it to you later." Iceland replied just as blandly, his eyes insipid and flickering violet.
"You owe me."
Fiercely, Belgium jabbed Holland's rib, forcing him to sit up straight. He stared at her in annoyance. "... Look the drink is here." she said with venom in her words.
"Yeah yeah no more talkin' about money. Ice'll blow up if we keep going on with it." Denmark exclaimed in his usual vibrant voice. "Look the drink! Yeah, finally! Finny what did you choose?"
"Uhm... well Iceland wanted to choose."
Norway casted an inquisitive look. "Will the guests be able to take it?"
"Maybe." he replied boredly.
Belgium, in response, laughed and then beamed. "Oh no we can take it! Come on, Holly and I drink like a million of Heinekens and some Tripel every day! Seriously we don't get beat easily."
Once the waitress set the seven tall mugs and a few shots on the table and then the eye-catching green bottle was last to be placed.
"Oi what is this stuff?"
Holland glanced away. "Might be poisoned."
"Shut up, Holly." Belgium, obviously annoyed, smiled and then pulled the cups over to her Dutch brother and Sweden. The rest took their cups and eyed Iceland. Seriously poisoned? She knew Holland was just making up stuff to find an excuse to leave.
Listlessly, Iceland stared around. "Drink up."
The liquid was poured into each cup by Finland, who had volunteered. Naturally, Denmark poked his nose in to smell the alcohol. "Eh, smells familiar."
Holland held the cup up so he can examine what was in the liquid. "Brandy."
"Shouldn't be too bad, right Sweden?" A hopeful Finland asked sweetly.
The Swede nodded, glanced at Belgium, looked away, and then uttered, "Mm. It's n't b'd ta try."
A little hesitant at first, everyone took a sip of it. Immediately, Norway set it down. "Brennivín." he stated with a bit of disdain.
"That's kinda strong. But it's okay." Finland replied, rubbing his cheek weakly.
"B'tter."
Belgium stuck out her tongue as she made a rasping noise. "Whoa gosh. Not used to this... Not used to this." She took another big sip, hoping that it would kind of act like water to make the headache go away. It didn't.
Denmark, who found this weird sense of courage, gulped it down and was able to wheeze, "N-Not bad!"
The Norwegian next to him whacked his head, "You idiot..." In less than a second, Denmark's face met the table and ceased to move for the rest of the night. For some reason, no one really reacted.
"Svarti dauði." A coy Iceland smiled, reaching over to get his second fill. As the alcohol whirrled around the cup, Holland seemed to tense up. "Black death. A fitting name for a drink that tastes like poison?"
Belgium blinked, quite surprised at the younger nation's taste of... morbid names. "Oh. Um..."
Finland widened his eyes and then poked Denmark numbly with his finger. "D-Den...?" Soon after Norway lifted up Denmark's head by pulling his hair.
"He's out."
"Already?!" The Finnish nation exclaimed in bewilderment.
Just as Iceland was in the process of drinking, still standing, Belgium looked over at Holland. "... Holly."
Holland stood up immediately, completely shocking Belgium, and then pointed an accusing finger at Iceland. "You tried to poison me! You brat, I wont forget this!"
The white haired nation merely smiled, set his cup down after he finished it up, and then ran for it.
"Catch me if you can, fantur!"
Like cat and mouse, Holland ran after him, who was then chased by an angered Norway. Frightened, Finland stood up, walked over Denmark, and told Sweden that he would look for help, leaving an unconscious Dane, a Swede, and a bewildered Belgium.
"What in the world just..."
"D'nno."
Belgium slapped her forehead, seething as she shook her head in shame. Her brother was such a child at times, so much that she could not comprehend it. Weakly, she looked over at Sweden, who did not at all appear interested at the knocked-out blonde over there.
"Ah... hm... Er..." Belgium fiddled with her hair, "Hello... don't think I really said hi, huh? Don't think I got the chance to since... well, we're in a weird situation so. Hi." That was lame, she told herself. Lame. Lame. Lame.
"H'llo." He kept looking at her like that. She felt shivers up her spine, but they were warm as the waterfall of sensation gushed down to her stomache. Belgium felt a little warm, actually, and it might or might not be the drink.
"Ya d'n't seem f'ne."
Belgium fluttered her eyelashes as she moved at a metronomic pace. She leaned on the table for stability, her arm propped up at an angle so her hand held on to her hair. "Think I drank too much of Iceland's Black Death..."
Observing the cup closely, Sweden tilted his head, "Th'nk he p't s'me k'nda dr'g." He tilted again in cogitation, "On acc'd'nt, I bet."
"Oh." Belgium laughed dryly. "He didn't seem like that kind of person. I hope he's doing fine, running away from Holland. He probably wont do anything though... unless Norway starts." She smothered her face with her hands, "Guh I hate it when he does this. Too quick to get into fights."
"I kn'w wh't y'mean." He stared at the unconscious figure of Denmark.
When he was looking away, Belgium just wanted to scoot closer. He was a tall, fine man. He had eyes of an enigma, hidden behind a veil of glass that reflected the dim ceiling lights. A high, straight nose, pursed lips, and an essence of seriousness on his face. He wasn't like Holland or Denmark, no. He spoke a lot less than them. It was sexy.
"You know I always feel overpowered by him. Insecure. We've been alright but things get out of hand." She sighed. "I don't know if you... know but like it's that feeling of a stronger force moving you when you can't do anything? I really, really hate it. Hate it."
"Mm..." He nodded bluntly.
Normally she wouldn't like those kind of people, but his one-lined responses just turned her on at that time. "You don't talk much, eh?" She smiled, giggled girlishly, and then loosened up. "Ugh I haven't felt liket his since forever."
Sweden turned back, directing his attention to her, and then leaned over to examine her face. "Y'sure y'ok?"
His breath, she could feel it. When she looked up, she closed her eyes and then tasted it. Sweet, serious lips, warmth in her bosom, and darkness in her sight. After that, she couldn't recall what had happened. Subconsciously, she felt really strong arms cradling her.
Voices. High and low.
The voice that stood out the most was the one that spoke the least. It had a strange accent with broken up words.
She didn't hate this.
When she woke up, she was in a hotel bed. Belgium had forgotten what had happened and was a little shaken up that she found herself in a new surrounding. Her belongings were in the room - she assumed it was the place she was supposed to stay with her brother. Speaking of which, he wasn't around at all. The nation shifted up and noticed that her clothes from the night before was still on her.
Then she just realized she... she kissed him. Blacked out. He probably carried her here.
A piece of paper fell out from her breast pocket.
"Sorry." it read.
She smiled.
Notes:
Brennivín - Strong Icelandic alcoholic beverage. Nicknamed 'Black Death'. Ominous yeah?
fantur - Bastard or Rogue in Icelandic
Erm. Holland would exaggerate because Amsterdam is obviously not a safe place, yeah? |D;;