Fanfic, Sweden/Estonia, Estonia/Finland, France/Russia, Iceland/Hong Kong, Wales/England
[Title: Under the stars
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: see pairings
Pairings: Sweden/Estonia, Estonia/Finland, France/Russia, Iceland/Hong Kong, Wales/England
Rating: G and PG
A/N: A song meme, all drabbles are inspired by a song and were written in about the timespan that the song allowed.]
[Notes: PG for kissing and implied sexual activity; set during the 19th century
Song: Behind Blue Eyes
Sweden/Estonia]
He gently placed the pair of glasses on the nightstand, next to his own, and turned back towards the taller man. He knew that this was not right. He know that this was not what it should be. But he could not bring himself to care.
Nobody would know.
Nobody would care.
Estonia was hardly ever noticed, and if, only in passing: "You should do better like Estonia." ...which did not exactly earn him any friends, either. Sweden was alone, the perfect example for the fact that having one more person in your household did not mean that one actually lived with someone. Not that Norway wasn't a nice person; he just ...was no much of a housemate. Him and Sweden were to similar. They got along well, but it was very clear that the happy, talking, lively one lacked. Both of them needed another person to be complete.
Estonia wasn't this person. They both knew that.
But when the younger nation crawled over to place his hands over Sweden's, catch the taller man's lips with his own and push him down onto the bed, neither of them minded.
They just did not care. Because what they did here did not mean anything, to nobody.
[Notes: G
Song: The Ketchup Song (Asereje) by Las Ketchup
Estonia/Finland]
He loved dancing with his neighbour, best friend of all time... more. There was nothing like the soft, sometimes jerky swaying of the lither male's hips, the heated bliss on the so very familiar face, the face that while having grown and matured over the years had never completely lost all the baby fat in it.
Sure, Austria's dancing would be more elegant, Spain's would be more passionate, and nobody could bring as much warmth into it as Seychelles.
But he didn't want any of that; he was a Northern nation himself, used to the cold, able to see the small things. Able to appreciate the simple strenght in Finland's movements.
And, what was more, none of them was the man that he had loved ever since he could remember.
[Notes: G; the song is German-French, was forbidden in Nazi Germany and is sung by a German that lived in Paris at that time. Russia saying that he likes it is his opinion as a person, not a nation.
Song: Bel Ami by Eva Busch
France/Russia]
They were in a small bar, in one of the nicer parts of Paris, yet not too expensive yet. For Parisian standards, anyway. Not that Moscow was any cheaper.
A singer in a corner of the room sang an old song, accompanied by a piano, and Russia had his eyes closed, hands carefully resting in his lap.
"You like it?" France was not nervous - not like some young lad who had just taken his girl out for the first time. That would have been wrong, anyway. He was hardly young, nor was Russia a girl - far from it-, nor was it the first time. But that did not mean that he wasn't a bit curious and confused when he noticed the other nation's expression, head tilted into the angle that France had come to know as intent listening, which could be good just as well as it could be bad.
"I remember the song." The larger nation pulled his glass over towards him and then nodded earnestly. "It is a very nice song."
"Oui?"
"Da."
And then they sat there in silence, letting the song embrace them and then carry on and out into the night, over the roofs of a city that had always been there in both their memories, and that would always be there.
[Notes: G; this is your explanation.
Song: LDN by Lily Allen
Hong Kong/Iceland]
"I'm not going to go to Denmark's place!"
Hong Kong hid a smile behind an impassive gaze and peered over his mobile. "Why?"
"Because", the older nation huffed and held a hand up to count reasons on his fingers, "One, I don't want to run into him, he will drag us into a stupid bar or make you accept him as a guide for a sightseeing tour. Two, just listen to Sweden for reasons."
"That's hardly a neutral source."
"And it is too dangerous!"
"...how?" Really, Iceland was just too cute all flushed and, well, pouting was definitely the best word. It was always worth it, no matter if they actually went there or not. He did not really care, he liked the place where they were right now, a lonely place somewhere on the island, just as much. Because, as cheesy as it sounded, because Iceland was there.
"...Have you ever tried to walk around there? If you're not on a bycicle, they'll try to kill you!"
"Well..." Hong Kong leaned forward and placed his elbows on Iceland's thigh, peering up at him from under thick eyebrows. "Then I will, like, just have to save the princess, don't I?"
He liked that idea. Of Iceland wearing a pink dress. The next time they made a bet on something, he would have to make that Iceland's stake.
[Notes: G; because I can't picture anyone else that Wales would talk to listen to that song |D
Song: Dynamite by Taio Cruz
Wales/England]
When he returned home and opened the door, the first thing would always do to hang up his coat, take off his shoes and then continue on to the kitchen to put his bag down.
Not so today. Not when there music blasting through the house, music that he most definitely did not own. Not when there was clearly someone in his house who was human enough to handle a tape.
Not when that someone was standing under the door that lead towards the living room, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for him.
"What the bloody..."
"I got a letter earlier today." Wales held up a message in the typical messy handwriting of the younger Ireland. Some dancing should cheer you up. Maybe together with your girlfriend?
"I'm not-" They really had to make their relationship official. Soon.
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: see pairings
Pairings: Sweden/Estonia, Estonia/Finland, France/Russia, Iceland/Hong Kong, Wales/England
Rating: G and PG
A/N: A song meme, all drabbles are inspired by a song and were written in about the timespan that the song allowed.]
[Notes: PG for kissing and implied sexual activity; set during the 19th century
Song: Behind Blue Eyes
Sweden/Estonia]
He gently placed the pair of glasses on the nightstand, next to his own, and turned back towards the taller man. He knew that this was not right. He know that this was not what it should be. But he could not bring himself to care.
Nobody would know.
Nobody would care.
Estonia was hardly ever noticed, and if, only in passing: "You should do better like Estonia." ...which did not exactly earn him any friends, either. Sweden was alone, the perfect example for the fact that having one more person in your household did not mean that one actually lived with someone. Not that Norway wasn't a nice person; he just ...was no much of a housemate. Him and Sweden were to similar. They got along well, but it was very clear that the happy, talking, lively one lacked. Both of them needed another person to be complete.
Estonia wasn't this person. They both knew that.
But when the younger nation crawled over to place his hands over Sweden's, catch the taller man's lips with his own and push him down onto the bed, neither of them minded.
They just did not care. Because what they did here did not mean anything, to nobody.
[Notes: G
Song: The Ketchup Song (Asereje) by Las Ketchup
Estonia/Finland]
He loved dancing with his neighbour, best friend of all time... more. There was nothing like the soft, sometimes jerky swaying of the lither male's hips, the heated bliss on the so very familiar face, the face that while having grown and matured over the years had never completely lost all the baby fat in it.
Sure, Austria's dancing would be more elegant, Spain's would be more passionate, and nobody could bring as much warmth into it as Seychelles.
But he didn't want any of that; he was a Northern nation himself, used to the cold, able to see the small things. Able to appreciate the simple strenght in Finland's movements.
And, what was more, none of them was the man that he had loved ever since he could remember.
[Notes: G; the song is German-French, was forbidden in Nazi Germany and is sung by a German that lived in Paris at that time. Russia saying that he likes it is his opinion as a person, not a nation.
Song: Bel Ami by Eva Busch
France/Russia]
They were in a small bar, in one of the nicer parts of Paris, yet not too expensive yet. For Parisian standards, anyway. Not that Moscow was any cheaper.
A singer in a corner of the room sang an old song, accompanied by a piano, and Russia had his eyes closed, hands carefully resting in his lap.
"You like it?" France was not nervous - not like some young lad who had just taken his girl out for the first time. That would have been wrong, anyway. He was hardly young, nor was Russia a girl - far from it-, nor was it the first time. But that did not mean that he wasn't a bit curious and confused when he noticed the other nation's expression, head tilted into the angle that France had come to know as intent listening, which could be good just as well as it could be bad.
"I remember the song." The larger nation pulled his glass over towards him and then nodded earnestly. "It is a very nice song."
"Oui?"
"Da."
And then they sat there in silence, letting the song embrace them and then carry on and out into the night, over the roofs of a city that had always been there in both their memories, and that would always be there.
[Notes: G; this is your explanation.
Song: LDN by Lily Allen
Hong Kong/Iceland]
"I'm not going to go to Denmark's place!"
Hong Kong hid a smile behind an impassive gaze and peered over his mobile. "Why?"
"Because", the older nation huffed and held a hand up to count reasons on his fingers, "One, I don't want to run into him, he will drag us into a stupid bar or make you accept him as a guide for a sightseeing tour. Two, just listen to Sweden for reasons."
"That's hardly a neutral source."
"And it is too dangerous!"
"...how?" Really, Iceland was just too cute all flushed and, well, pouting was definitely the best word. It was always worth it, no matter if they actually went there or not. He did not really care, he liked the place where they were right now, a lonely place somewhere on the island, just as much. Because, as cheesy as it sounded, because Iceland was there.
"...Have you ever tried to walk around there? If you're not on a bycicle, they'll try to kill you!"
"Well..." Hong Kong leaned forward and placed his elbows on Iceland's thigh, peering up at him from under thick eyebrows. "Then I will, like, just have to save the princess, don't I?"
He liked that idea. Of Iceland wearing a pink dress. The next time they made a bet on something, he would have to make that Iceland's stake.
[Notes: G; because I can't picture anyone else that Wales would talk to listen to that song |D
Song: Dynamite by Taio Cruz
Wales/England]
When he returned home and opened the door, the first thing would always do to hang up his coat, take off his shoes and then continue on to the kitchen to put his bag down.
Not so today. Not when there music blasting through the house, music that he most definitely did not own. Not when there was clearly someone in his house who was human enough to handle a tape.
Not when that someone was standing under the door that lead towards the living room, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for him.
"What the bloody..."
"I got a letter earlier today." Wales held up a message in the typical messy handwriting of the younger Ireland. Some dancing should cheer you up. Maybe together with your girlfriend?
"I'm not-" They really had to make their relationship official. Soon.