Good Day Sunshine
Title: Good Day Sunshine
Author/Artist: Yup
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Denmark, Finland
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Summary: It's easy to help out when you love the job anyway.
Good Day Sunshine
Sweat was running down his brow, making his skin itch. He knew there were large, wet patches under the arms of his shirt but he had stopped feeling them already. The sun seemed eager to burn a hole right through his body whenever he bent down. He straightened his back slowly and painfully, feeling every muscle make fierce protests against the treatment he was subjecting them to, wondering fleetingly if he wasn't simply getting old. There had been times that made this day pale in comparison after all, and back then there he had never had the luxury of even considering such things as fatigue or unsuitable weather. Back then it was up to everyone to do all they could and that was that.
Finland tossed the pieces of wood he had just picked up into a wheelbarrel, grabbed the handles and pushed it to the pile of firewood that was now steadily growing taller. He stacked up the new pieces, returned to the chopping block and somewhat unenthusiastically picked up the axe again. He paused to wipe his face, picked up a birch log, balanced it on one end, swung the axe up and brought it down with all the strength he could still muster. The blade fell with a dull thump and stuck. He wrenched it loose and sighed; the log had so many knots in it it would take forever to chop it down, tired as he already was.
Something clinked heavily on a table behind him. Surprised, he cast a look over his shoulder and saw Denmark who had apparently materialized from thin air, or otherwise learned to creep stealthily, now busily arranging out the contents of the tray. There seemed to be cookies and cinnamon rolls, a can of coffee and a jug full of water, so cold that it must have come straight out of the well Finland thought, watching the condensed beads run together and slide down the side of the glass. This made him realize in a second that besides tired he was also very, very thirsty.
“Hey - you ok or what?”
He had probably been staring motionless at nothingness for who knows how long. Finland smiled and assured feebly that all was fine, stuck the axe into the chopping block and made his way to the table. Denmark pulled a chair out almost absent-mindedly. Funny as it may have been all things considered, his knowledge of etiquette and proper behaviour was probably the best among the Nordics (rivaled only by Sweden's) and only hidden by his usual way of behaving. It was rare that anyone even noticed how easily it all came to him or how well he always fit in his surroundings no matter what they were. Perhaps this was due to the way Denmark never really made a point out of it.
He stumbled and for one fleeintg, panicy moment Finland knew he would fall forward and crash onto the table and send all the contents flying around. He did not even see Denmark move but suddenly he was standing by his side with a good grip on both the neck of his shirt and the waist of his jeans. He swept him back to his feet, spun him around and propped him into the chair like a ragdoll. Denmark bent down to get a better look at his face.
“Din't wear a hat, did you?”
He grabbed Finland's face on both sides and lifted his eyelids. In his bleary mind the whole world seemed to be made out of Denmark's mildly concerned face and the fact that his eyes were very, very blue.
“What the hell were you trying to do here?”
Finland finally found his tongue again.
“I - I was cutting firewood of those trees there, that all fell down in the storm in July. Can't leave them lying around, there'll be more rains soon so I have to get them chopped and piled up before that or they'll be a real pain...”
His voice trailed off. Denmark was trying his forehead with his own and it was not certain if he had been listening at all. Eventually he seemed to come up with a decision and poured him a glass of water and, as an afterthought, a cup of coffee as well.
“Tell you what. You stay here and make use of whatever's on the table here while I'll show you how it's done. How'ssat?”
He picked up the axe from the chopping block and brought it up.
“You really don't have to,” Finland gulped down the mouthful of water that had kept him from replying, “It's okay, I'll just have a break and I'll be fine, really!”
CHOP
The birch log fell down in two beautiful, exact halves. Denmark picked up one one them and halved it again, as if the branch stumps in it were not even a hindrance. He did not seem to be paying Finland any attention anymore beginning to work his way through the logs in an enthusiastic, cheery manner. Finland leaned back in the chair, feeling the presence of shadow and a cool breeze from the lakeside give him more strength. The coffee tasted somehow better than usual.
Author/Artist: Yup
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Denmark, Finland
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Summary: It's easy to help out when you love the job anyway.
Good Day Sunshine
Sweat was running down his brow, making his skin itch. He knew there were large, wet patches under the arms of his shirt but he had stopped feeling them already. The sun seemed eager to burn a hole right through his body whenever he bent down. He straightened his back slowly and painfully, feeling every muscle make fierce protests against the treatment he was subjecting them to, wondering fleetingly if he wasn't simply getting old. There had been times that made this day pale in comparison after all, and back then there he had never had the luxury of even considering such things as fatigue or unsuitable weather. Back then it was up to everyone to do all they could and that was that.
Finland tossed the pieces of wood he had just picked up into a wheelbarrel, grabbed the handles and pushed it to the pile of firewood that was now steadily growing taller. He stacked up the new pieces, returned to the chopping block and somewhat unenthusiastically picked up the axe again. He paused to wipe his face, picked up a birch log, balanced it on one end, swung the axe up and brought it down with all the strength he could still muster. The blade fell with a dull thump and stuck. He wrenched it loose and sighed; the log had so many knots in it it would take forever to chop it down, tired as he already was.
Something clinked heavily on a table behind him. Surprised, he cast a look over his shoulder and saw Denmark who had apparently materialized from thin air, or otherwise learned to creep stealthily, now busily arranging out the contents of the tray. There seemed to be cookies and cinnamon rolls, a can of coffee and a jug full of water, so cold that it must have come straight out of the well Finland thought, watching the condensed beads run together and slide down the side of the glass. This made him realize in a second that besides tired he was also very, very thirsty.
“Hey - you ok or what?”
He had probably been staring motionless at nothingness for who knows how long. Finland smiled and assured feebly that all was fine, stuck the axe into the chopping block and made his way to the table. Denmark pulled a chair out almost absent-mindedly. Funny as it may have been all things considered, his knowledge of etiquette and proper behaviour was probably the best among the Nordics (rivaled only by Sweden's) and only hidden by his usual way of behaving. It was rare that anyone even noticed how easily it all came to him or how well he always fit in his surroundings no matter what they were. Perhaps this was due to the way Denmark never really made a point out of it.
He stumbled and for one fleeintg, panicy moment Finland knew he would fall forward and crash onto the table and send all the contents flying around. He did not even see Denmark move but suddenly he was standing by his side with a good grip on both the neck of his shirt and the waist of his jeans. He swept him back to his feet, spun him around and propped him into the chair like a ragdoll. Denmark bent down to get a better look at his face.
“Din't wear a hat, did you?”
He grabbed Finland's face on both sides and lifted his eyelids. In his bleary mind the whole world seemed to be made out of Denmark's mildly concerned face and the fact that his eyes were very, very blue.
“What the hell were you trying to do here?”
Finland finally found his tongue again.
“I - I was cutting firewood of those trees there, that all fell down in the storm in July. Can't leave them lying around, there'll be more rains soon so I have to get them chopped and piled up before that or they'll be a real pain...”
His voice trailed off. Denmark was trying his forehead with his own and it was not certain if he had been listening at all. Eventually he seemed to come up with a decision and poured him a glass of water and, as an afterthought, a cup of coffee as well.
“Tell you what. You stay here and make use of whatever's on the table here while I'll show you how it's done. How'ssat?”
He picked up the axe from the chopping block and brought it up.
“You really don't have to,” Finland gulped down the mouthful of water that had kept him from replying, “It's okay, I'll just have a break and I'll be fine, really!”
CHOP
The birch log fell down in two beautiful, exact halves. Denmark picked up one one them and halved it again, as if the branch stumps in it were not even a hindrance. He did not seem to be paying Finland any attention anymore beginning to work his way through the logs in an enthusiastic, cheery manner. Finland leaned back in the chair, feeling the presence of shadow and a cool breeze from the lakeside give him more strength. The coffee tasted somehow better than usual.