Hetalia -- Untitled Hungary/Austria fic
And the fanfiction dump commences.
Title: the perfect title for this fic had a hatchet and a mad gleam in its eye so you can understand why I didn't approach it remotely
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: Hungary/Austria
Rating: PG
Summary: Fluff and more fluff
The last thing Austria expected when he first kissed Hungary was for her to start crying.
He had never seen her cry before. Immediately he realized he must have injured her delicate female sensibilities, which startled him because he had always thought Hungary’s delicate female sensibilities were sort of leathery and iron-y and maybe had poisonous barbs sticking out of them. He put his hands on her shoulders--noticing for the first time that they were rather thin shoulders--and apologized.
“No,” she said, wiping at her eyes furiously with her sleeve. “Don’t say sorry. I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I‘m being silly.”
He flicked his embroidered handkerchief out of his coat pocket, but she shook her head at it.
“No, no, it’s too pretty,” she said. She sniffed once, loud enough to constitute a snort, then a second time more quietly. Austria was often amazed at how quickly she could shift between coarse and dainty. “I’m fine. I’m just being silly.”
He lowered the handkerchief doubtfully. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“No, no, stop saying that!” She gave a hiccupping laugh and waved a hand at him, as if to shoo his words back into his mouth. She at last took her sleeve away from her face and smiled. Her eyes were red and swollen like mushrooms. It was oddly pretty how her eyelashes clumped together into tiny, tear-wetted spikes. She was an oddly pretty girl in general. She probably didn’t know she was pretty at all.
She took one last swipe at her nose to catch a stray drip of snot. “I’m fine, see?” she said. Her smile showed teeth.
He looked at her a long moment. “You’ve ruined your sleeve,” he pointed out.
“Ak!” It had just occurred to her. How very Hungary.
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to wipe it off on her skirts before realizing that that would only ruin the rest of her dress. “I’ll throw it in with the laundry--”
He took a step closer to her and she stopped. When she looked up their noses almost touched.
“It’s rather unfair,” Austria told her.
“Huh?”
“You’ve forbidden me from apologizing. And yet you can apologize all you like.”
Hungary opened her mouth only slightly--to apologize, of course--before catching herself.
Austria brushed the handkerchief across her cheeks, under her eyelids, across the round button tip of her nose. There wasn’t much left for the handkerchief to clean. Somewhere at the back of his brain he realized this all wasn’t very civilized, but by the time he was done Hungary was smiling at him in a way that made his throat tighten uncomfortably.
“Hm,” he said, folding the handkerchief and returning it to his pocket.
Her face was glowing, her cheeks prettily flushed--maybe not so much a blush as simply an aftermath of the crying, but pretty nonetheless.
They stood that way for a while. The closeness became awkward.
The only polite course of action Austria could imagine was to apologize again, but that wouldn’t do. Thankfully he was saved from strategic decision-making by Hungary rising on her tip-toes to kiss him. The kiss was a lot like the first one--her lips were soft, if slightly chapped, and they only pressed against his for a moment. Then she lowered to her regular height and smiled up at him.
“Thank you,” Austria said, because it was the only polite course of action he could imagine.
She giggled. He put his hands on her shoulders again, and she brushed a finger against his jabot.
“I was so sure you were--” She smiled and shook her head. “But this is a lot better isn’t it?” She rested her head against his chest.
It seemed only gentlemanly to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She made a contented sound, and Austria felt his body relaxing automatically. He hadn’t known he was standing so rigid.
He thought he heard her mumbling. Something that sounded like: “Poor, Ludwig… And I was almost finished drawing the doujinshi too…” But he didn’t question it, because really, this arrangement was quite nice. And besides, he did not want to injure Hungary’s delicate female sensibilities again.
Title: the perfect title for this fic had a hatchet and a mad gleam in its eye so you can understand why I didn't approach it remotely
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: Hungary/Austria
Rating: PG
Summary: Fluff and more fluff
The last thing Austria expected when he first kissed Hungary was for her to start crying.
He had never seen her cry before. Immediately he realized he must have injured her delicate female sensibilities, which startled him because he had always thought Hungary’s delicate female sensibilities were sort of leathery and iron-y and maybe had poisonous barbs sticking out of them. He put his hands on her shoulders--noticing for the first time that they were rather thin shoulders--and apologized.
“No,” she said, wiping at her eyes furiously with her sleeve. “Don’t say sorry. I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I‘m being silly.”
He flicked his embroidered handkerchief out of his coat pocket, but she shook her head at it.
“No, no, it’s too pretty,” she said. She sniffed once, loud enough to constitute a snort, then a second time more quietly. Austria was often amazed at how quickly she could shift between coarse and dainty. “I’m fine. I’m just being silly.”
He lowered the handkerchief doubtfully. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“No, no, stop saying that!” She gave a hiccupping laugh and waved a hand at him, as if to shoo his words back into his mouth. She at last took her sleeve away from her face and smiled. Her eyes were red and swollen like mushrooms. It was oddly pretty how her eyelashes clumped together into tiny, tear-wetted spikes. She was an oddly pretty girl in general. She probably didn’t know she was pretty at all.
She took one last swipe at her nose to catch a stray drip of snot. “I’m fine, see?” she said. Her smile showed teeth.
He looked at her a long moment. “You’ve ruined your sleeve,” he pointed out.
“Ak!” It had just occurred to her. How very Hungary.
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to wipe it off on her skirts before realizing that that would only ruin the rest of her dress. “I’ll throw it in with the laundry--”
He took a step closer to her and she stopped. When she looked up their noses almost touched.
“It’s rather unfair,” Austria told her.
“Huh?”
“You’ve forbidden me from apologizing. And yet you can apologize all you like.”
Hungary opened her mouth only slightly--to apologize, of course--before catching herself.
Austria brushed the handkerchief across her cheeks, under her eyelids, across the round button tip of her nose. There wasn’t much left for the handkerchief to clean. Somewhere at the back of his brain he realized this all wasn’t very civilized, but by the time he was done Hungary was smiling at him in a way that made his throat tighten uncomfortably.
“Hm,” he said, folding the handkerchief and returning it to his pocket.
Her face was glowing, her cheeks prettily flushed--maybe not so much a blush as simply an aftermath of the crying, but pretty nonetheless.
They stood that way for a while. The closeness became awkward.
The only polite course of action Austria could imagine was to apologize again, but that wouldn’t do. Thankfully he was saved from strategic decision-making by Hungary rising on her tip-toes to kiss him. The kiss was a lot like the first one--her lips were soft, if slightly chapped, and they only pressed against his for a moment. Then she lowered to her regular height and smiled up at him.
“Thank you,” Austria said, because it was the only polite course of action he could imagine.
She giggled. He put his hands on her shoulders again, and she brushed a finger against his jabot.
“I was so sure you were--” She smiled and shook her head. “But this is a lot better isn’t it?” She rested her head against his chest.
It seemed only gentlemanly to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She made a contented sound, and Austria felt his body relaxing automatically. He hadn’t known he was standing so rigid.
He thought he heard her mumbling. Something that sounded like: “Poor, Ludwig… And I was almost finished drawing the doujinshi too…” But he didn’t question it, because really, this arrangement was quite nice. And besides, he did not want to injure Hungary’s delicate female sensibilities again.