Hetalia oneshots

Crack paring (England x Finland)

I really shouldn't have gotten up this morning, Tino thought to himself as he was emptying his third vodka shot. This isn't my day at all.

The nations of the world had yet again held another conference, handling global warming. Tino, as the representation of his country Finland, had also taken part of the meeting. It seemed though that (even if Tino wasn't superstitious) it was his Friday the 13th.

First, his alarm clock decided to play a prank on him. Tino woke up an hour and a half later, only to find out that his flight to Brussels was to take off in an hour. He jumped up from his bed as it had caught fire and got through of his morning routines with a speed Usain Bolt would've been jealous of.

As he paid to the taxi at the airport, Tino noticed he had forgotten his luggage in his bedroom. He had no time to worry about it, though, because the boarding gate was about to be closed. He sprinted to the gates while dodging other passengers and shouting apologies to anyone he hit, receiving a presentation of his language's wide curse word -collection. Tino managed to reach the gate, and with some pleading and begging they let him in, just in time.

At the airport of Brussels Tino was greeted by the assistance of the host country's government. He was guided into a black car that was to take him straight to the meeting. Tino almost relaxed but tensed up again, seeing who he was accompanied with. Berwald, his ex-husband (not that Tino himself had been the wife, he's a man, for crying out loud!) was also sitting at the backseat, and seeing Tino, turned his icy glare away from him. Their divorce had not been clean, and they both were still bitter to each other. So, as you could imagine, the trip didn't go quite well. Actually, it seemed as it would've turned into a bloodbath unless they hadn't reached their destination. Glaring daggers at one direction and another, they stepped out from the car and departed, trying to avoid meeting each other again before the conference.

Tino gestured the bartender to come and take his order. I knew they didn't have Salmiakkikossu, he thought as he received a negative answer to his question about his favorite drink. So, instead, he ordered a new bottle of vodka. As he was opening the bottle, he suddenly felt a hand grip his shoulder. He turned around to face a pair of emerald eyes.

'Are you sure you should be drinking that much?' Arthur, the representation of England, asked, furrowing his (mind you, massive) eyebrows. Tino frowned at him.

'I think it's my own business how much I'm drinking, thank you very much', he answered, though knowing the Brit was making sense. Tino was famous for not knowing when to stop.

'Very well, then. Mind if I take a seat? I could use a drink myself', Arthur said, rubbing his temples and ordering a whiskey.

'No, go ahead.'

After drinking a while (Tino was already starting to feel dizzy), Arthur finally broke the silence.

'I couldn't help noticing the tense atmosphere between you and Berwald today. Is everything alright?' Tino lifted his gaze from his seventh shot and answered, but it was hard for Arthur to understand anything since Finn's talk was starting to slur. He did recognize the words 'cheater', 'wife' and 'ice-hockey'. He could see the other blond was upset, so he wrapped his arm around Tino's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.

'I'm sure you'll find someone else. There's plenty of fish in the sea, y' see  ?' Tino smiled weakly. Though he couldn't help noticing a hint of sadness in Arthur's eyes. He may be drunk, but he wasn't oblivious.

'I'll be just fine. But what 'bout you? You seem a little sad..' Arthur quickly emptied his glass and had it refilled before he answered.

'Oh, me, sad? No, it's just that bloody American with his mindless ideas and tactlessness. And obliviousness.' He took a long sip and continued.

'I mean, he probably wouldn't even take a hint if it stood in front of him dressed as a giant hamburger and singing that awful 'The Star-Spangled Banner' of his. Why can't he just understand I don't see him that way anymore and leave me alone? But otherwise, everything is just fan-fucking-tastic!' Arthur shouted the last sentence and collapsed onto the counter.

'What the hell am I going to do..' he mumbled in a shaky voice. This time, it was Tino's turn to grip the Brit's shoulders. He lifted Arthur up and faced him (or at least tried to. His gaze was wandering and it was hard for him to focus it on anything.) He closed his eyes and tried to compose a proper cheer-up speech.

'I'm sure you'll find a way to tell him. You're a smart gay- I mean a guy. A smart guy. You'll find a way~' Tino was starting to wobble dangerously, so Arthur paid for their drinks and started to walk Tino out of the bar. Luckily Tino's hotel wasn't far away since he had to practically drag him there. Tino just kept singing songs unknown to Arthur, probably some Finnish hits. Arthur couldn't be sure though, he doubted even another Finn would've understood his companion's slurring.

They finally reached the hotel's lounge. Arthur sighed as he put Tino sitting on a cough.

'Which one of these is your room?' He asked, doubting he'd get an answer.

'Number sex- no, six. Room number six. I have the key card right here. Somewhere..' After digging his pockets for a moment, he finally found what he was searching. Arthur noticed as he got to his door that his movements were starting to get steady again. Tino's body burned the alcohol unbelievably fast.

Before opening his door, Tino turned and walked back to to the Brit.

'I-I just wanted to thank you. For listening to me and getting me out of there. If I had kept on drinking, I would've probably been as drunk as a cuckoo.' Arthur stared in those violetish eyes in amazement.

'You're well-' His sentence was cut in half as Tino's lips pressed against his owns. This action caught Arthur by surprise and he had to grip the front of Tino's shirt in order to stay on his feet. After regaining his balance, he started to (even to his own surprise) kiss back. They broke apart as they were both out of breath.

'Would you want to-?' Tino suggested. Arthur just nodded and was led to Tino's hotel room.

As Tino woke up the following morning, he found the other side of his bed to be empty. That's strange, he wondered. He was sure he hadn't gone to bed alone last night. That was when he heard a loud CLANK from the small kitchen, soon followed by a few thoughtfully picked curse words. A strong smell of smoke was floating into the bedroom.

Tino cursed inwardly for being a heavy sleeper.