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( an old piece / idea, rewritten. ;D )
035. Enraged
“You know what, Berwald? .. .. You, are a fine .. piece of man-a**. "
A fine-haired and red-faced Finn shifted his position to lay his violet eyes on the scene he just heard, not quite believing it in his foggy drunken stupor. It seemed so, and he couldn't decide what kind of so it was- an unfortunate one, a fortunate one, or one that ended in a Danish face full of Swedish fist. He secretly hoped for the very latter.
His hopes, though, were dashed, it seemed, as the Dane did not in fact receive a fist to the face- for a long moment after the come-on had been spoken, all of the Nordics (who had inexplicably gone out together, as this was the closest thing they could think of to 'family bonding' that didn't involve dog collars and a relative amount of noise, and they all knew how well that had worked out) had instantly frozen and stared at the pair in question.
One did not just come on to Sweden like that. Granted, none of them had ever tried- except in the earlier years, but they'd all matured. Well, somewhat.
But what the Dane received in the place of a wicked glare or a fist to the face, was a strange sort of grunt-y noise that they all knew sufficed for an, 'okay'.
"NO ********` WAY."
The boyish voice belonging to the Finn was not accustomed to shrieking/yelling like that, much less in the state of vodka-induced drunkenness, so Tino's voice came out sharp-sounding, like a wrong staccato played on a violin. It did suffice, though, in getting his fellow nation's blurred attentions. They all snapped forward, looking towards the Finn, tottering dangerously atop his cracked-vinyl seated barstool. He paused for a moment, to swallow and breath and regain his footing before he stepped onto the bar and knocked his precious drink over.
All of the blondes stared with eyes of various hues of blue at their fellow man. They'd always known him to be sort of fragile, gentle being the better word, soft-spoken and cheerful and not the type to scream out, atop a barstool, in a bar.
But they hadn't known how much alcohol he could consume without many ill effects.
"THAT a** ..” he paused to wipe his mouth. “IS MINE.”
The Finn paused to glare individually at the Nordics, all of whom stared at him with some sort of reverence and submission. Norway's mouth hung wide open; Denmark, the one who'd come on to Sweden in the first place, had the look of a guy who just discovered that his one-night-stand happened to have a really huge boyfriend, who looked like he wanted some of what his girlfriend had got the previous night. The Dane managed a nod; Tino was satisfied with that.
With a small degree of trouble, the Finn maneuvered himself down from his high stand, to sit back down in a safer position. He twisted his head to take a look at Sweden, not considering the effects his outburst could have.
And what he saw was a Swede, passed out with the pad of his cheek resting on the smoky wood of the bar.
Which meant his ownership would have to be announced some other way, and it barely sufficed to say that Finland was halfway glad for that.
 men getting pregnant · Sun Jan 17, 2010 @ 09:02am · 0 Comments |
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