"Hey, baby, I'm home!"

Iceland honestly hated that over-used 'nickname', but his pout was overcome by a small smile at the sound of his voice. Well, it was about time. Denmark had been working late for the past few weeks, and it was irritating being in such a big house, in such a big bed meant for two, alone. Bringing his little Puffin with him, Iceland met the fellow country in the hallway, just as he was taking off his heavy jacket and tossing it carelessly on the couch, despite it being soaked in water. Denmark's cheeks were flushed from the cold and his messy blonde hair had bits of snow flecks. It was extremely rare for Iceland to consider this massive idiot 'cute', and he could only name one or two times he did. Tonight was one of those times.

It prompted him to give Denmark a chaste kiss on the lips. "Finally," Iceland mock frowned, moving close so they were only an inch apart. That innocent kiss was enough to give Denmark a few waves of heat, and wanting more, he snaked his arms around the thin waist and slowly kissed back. He figured the island country would make some sort of embarrassed protest, but not tonight. Pale fingers rested on his shoulders and pulled at his shirt when Denmark slid his hands lower.

By this time the Puffin had long escaped and the two were pressed against each other and breathing hard, giving deep kisses that eventually turned rough. Iceland was loud, because he always is, even before Denmark started removing his white silk ribbon and started nibbling on his neck. He had to hold the Icelander up because any kind of neck molestation led to a hot and whimpering Iceland, which was good. Extremely good, because it had been weeks and both of them needed it.

Denmark didn't know when he started noticing Iceland's cute hips or his delicate neck or pouting red lips. They'd always been there, and he had multiple times in history to ravish them like he was now. And Iceland couldn't figure out why he wanted Denmark's large hands touching him or his muscles pressed and rubbing against him. The odd thing was, neither of them considered it lust. They had their fluffy 'couple' moments, as much as Germany and Italy or Sweden and Finland. But the sex seemed best of all, because Denmark had slept with a lot of men and women and no one had ever mewled his name so cutely. And while Iceland wasn't nearly as experienced in that department, no one else made him feel like this in or outside the bedroom.

Denmark didn't think of anybody but Iceland when he nearly pounded him into the mattress and gave him visible hickies. And all of Denmark's previous, less-than-kind deeds Iceland witnessed were pushed back as he felt like his body would explode from pleasure and heat.

The only time any real regrets came was when Iceland was fast asleep on his chest or at his side, the puffin coming back and curling up by its master. The Dane would stare at the younger nation's cute face, one that really ought to smile more because his smile was probably the rarest and most beautiful thing in the world. And that's a word Denmark used sparingly- beautiful. He was never flowery with words (dirty talking was more his style), but he could think of many thinks flowery and radiant about Iceland. That's what worried Denmark so much- he never had these feelings so intense in such a short time. He'd felt like this about Norway for what seemed forever, but in the end it just soured to bitter heartache. For a short while, he felt this about Finland, and he quickly realized how hard Sweden could punch.

And just for a small moment, even Sweden-

No, screw that, he never felt mushy for that oversized zombie. Never.

And he'd had relationships with humans, lots of nations did, and other countries. And he'd lived for so many years, and for some reason, this seemed like the only one that was really.. pleasing. He wanted to use the word 'love' so bad, because he was so sure that's what he saw in Iceland's eyes whenever they kissed or made love or just simply napped on the couch. He was different, Denmark couldn't hurt him. He didn't want Iceland to be like all the others, such stupid mistakes, fueled by whatever was making him do a flurry of stupid things. Norway never loved him and he knew the real reason Sweden left with Finland in tow was because Denmark was drunk and forceful and not thinking and thank god Sweden came in when he did-

To the present. Denmark was just internally angsting because Iceland seemed so peaceful and happy in his arms, completely oblivious of the turmoil that would result if anybody found out.

It was probably the cruelest joke God or Fate or whoever could ever play on him. Why couldn't Sweden find out? He wouldn't care. Or Finland? He'd keep his mouth shut. Hell, even Russia would be better than...

Norway. And how did he find out?

Walking in on them. Right when Iceland was spread-legged and mewling in that adoring way he did. Except it wasn't so adorable now, because he was panting, "J-just put it in, Nico!" right when the door opened. And Denmark responded with a groan and, "Mmnn, you gotta tell me you want it-"

He barley uttered out "Alecks" when a lamp hurled across the room and collided with his head. Denmark didn't even know what happened until he was on the ground with what he was sure was blood running down his face. The semi-concussion was nothing to the sinking in his heart and nausea in his stomach when Iceland whimpered out, "N-N-Noregur-!"

"What is this?" Screeching hyenas and growling bears sounded nicer than that soft, venomous hiss that came from Norway. Denmark staggered up, clutching his head, staring at the ground because he couldn't look either brother in the eye. What could he say? But Norway wouldn't even let him talk. He grabbed the other lamp off the dresser, pulling the plug from the wall and swinging it above his head so fast the shade came off. Norway's voice heightened to a scream. "What is this?"

"Norge-!" Denmark grabbed the lamp just before it landed a more painful blow, but the force put into it made him falter considerably. He always thought Norway had rather dull eyes, but these were ablaze with an insane amount of fury. They almost didn't belong to him, and honestly speaking, Denmark was frightened. For just a fraction of a second, he glanced at the bed. Iceland was crying.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" His growl was akin to a wild animal's. He hit Denmark across the face, hard, so hard the Dane's neck whipped to the left and he fell down again. Blood was starting to drip down his chin, mixing with the blood from the first wound. Iceland let out a cry and jumped off the bed- somehow during all this he had thrown a shirt on- and grabbed Norway's wrist. Half conscious on the ground, Denmark noticed Norway didn't even look at his baby brother, even as he begged, "Stop Noregur, please stop! Stop!"

Norway didn't acknowledge his brother because he was wearing Denmark's shirt, smelled like the Dane and was moaning freely and talking like a whore for him. Norway prided himself how well he raised his brother, that Iceland never involved himself in dangerous wars or made stupid decisions. Years and years of careful teaching and parenting destroyed by one fucking stupid Dane that only thought with his crotch. Norway couldn't handle it. He brought down the lamp again, causing Denmark to groan in pain and Iceland to cry harder at the same time.

"H-H-He didn't force me! He didn't rape me!" Iceland was so wound up he was jumping between Norwegian and his own tongue. Norway stopped in the middle of his fourth blow and whipped on heels to face this traitor directly. "I could see that! You- you were saying his name!"

Iceland looked at his feet in shame. He honestly never thought this relationship was a bad thing. He wasn't a child, sex wasn't new to him. And he trusted Denmark a lot more than he trusted other countries. He knew that Norway and Denmark had some times together, but... Norway always told him he hated him, even though it was obvious Denmark would do anything for him at the time. Iceland understood his brother's overprotectiveness, but he just expected awkward conversations with a little yelling and maybe a slap, not a full-on beating.

He'd never seen his beloved older brother like this. It terrified him and he didn't know what to do, and he felt disgustingly useless as he saw the blood drip from Denmark's face to the old carpet. Norway turned back to Denmark, and Iceland's heart stopped because he thought he'd swing down as hard as he could. But the bloody lamp fell from the Norwegian's hand and he just screamed, "Are you so disgusting and horny you have to fuck the nearest country, regardless of consequences?"

"I-I... It's not..." Denmark struggled intensely to form a simple sentence, he felt like he was going to pass out and the room was swirling like a tornado. "It's not like that..."

"Of course is it! That's what it always is! You can't stand being alone for a night!"

"No," Denmark groaned and tried to pull himself up, speaking with a little more strength. "I-Iceland... Iceland's special..."

Despite Norway's scathing glare that increased tenfold, Iceland felt his stomach flutter. Hardly the best time, but it did. Norway bit his lip, "He's special, but he's not yours to use and throw away!"

"I'd never use him!" Denmark defended, willing himself to stay awake and standing to fight off Norway so he could wipe Iceland's wet cheeks. He wanted to tell Norway everything he knew about Iceland, personal things and facts about his country. About how they would cook and eat together or sit outside together. But he couldn't possibly get all that out without being assaulted again.

"You're fine using everybody else!"

"He's not a kid!"

"He's too young for this!"

They went back in forth, the argument becoming less about Iceland and more personal jabs at each other. This was commonplace, except Denmark never insulted Norway back. Iceland knew the argument was only going to escalate to more violence, so he ran into the living room, their voices echoing off the walls of the large house. They made his heart race and his fingers shake as he dialed frantically on the wireless phone.

Finland gasped when the sharp ring pierced into the quiet of his living room. He was so startled because even though he had a book in his hand, his eyelids were starting to get heavy. The fire was dimming, Sweden had dozed off and they put Sealand and Aland to bed some time ago. "H-Hei...?" He sleepily mumbled into the receiver.

"Finnland?" The response was shaky and immediate.

Finalnd couldn't believe who was calling. He couldn't remember Iceland ever calling or sounding so scared. "Islanti? Are you alright?" He asked, now more awake.

Iceland didn't want to start crying but he couldn't help it. "N-Noregur and Danemark, they're fighting, Noregur hit him, and he's bleeding, and it's my fault-!" The tears were surprisingly held back, but his voice quivered like pond ripples.

Those two fighting wasn't anything new, but Iceland crying and calling meant something serious had gone now. Finland have a worried glance to Sweden, who was awake and looking confused. "I understand Islanti, yes, it's okay... Shh, please, it's okay," Finland's voice instantly took on a sweet, maternal tone, one he normally reserved for just his boys. "Su-san and I will be there. Yes, I know, I'll hurry."

"Mm?" Sweden grunted as the Finn hung up.

Finland looked calm but his voice was anxious. "We need to go to Denmark's house, now."

Iceland had taken to hiding in the living room, clutching the phone, even though Finland hung up a long time ago. The fight between Norway and Denmark only got worse; he was sure they were hitting each other by the sounds of pain and anger coming from the room. He resented Finland for taking so long, even though the nation came as fast as he could. But he felt so relieved when the Finn threw open the door and came to his side, with towering Sweden right behind him. While Finland took off his jacket and wrapped it around Iceland, speaking as softly and kindly as he could, Sweden quickly located the fighting countries and walked right into Denmark's bedroom.

Iceland wanted to know what the three were doing, if they were going to just beat the hell out of each other, but Finland led him to the car. Iceland wasn't the slight bit embarrassed that all he had on was a bright blue jacket with an oversized red shirt barley covering his vital regions, he was just anxious.

"N-no, I want to see him, I want to know if he's okay-"

"Su-san can handle it, please, let's just wait here." Finland sat next to him in the passenger seat. Iceland pulled away from his embrace, even if it was comforting and nice.

"Y-You don't think there's anything wrong with it?" Iceland asked, beside himself.

The blonde knew what he was talking about, the "relationship". Honestly, he didn't trust Denmark, and he wasn't sure what was going through the man's head when he thought it'd be a good idea to have sex with Ice, but Finland felt like he shouldn't judge because he didn't know the full story, just that Norway came in swinging a lamp. He fiddled with his thumbs, offering, "Well, if you're happy, then I don't see harm to it."

What a neutral answer. Iceland thought irritably. The other nation wished he could go in and see what was happening, but he knew Iceland wouldn't stay in the car. Several uncomfortable minutes passed, up to half an hour, when finally Sweden came out the front door. Iceland's imagination was half expecting him to be covered in blood.

Finland rolled down the window and Sweden crouched down to his eye lever. "S'done."

"Is everything okay? Are they done fighting?"

"Nn, mn."

Finland frowned. "Is Norway alright with it?"

"'S calm, fer' now."

Iceland understood at least that, and he was relieved it was over, even if his brother hadn't been fully convinced. "Um, can I see Denmark now?"

Sweden looked at his waifu, who thought it over for a good minute. "Well, alright, we really should get him to a hospital... Oh." His last comment when unheard because the younger nation had already bolted out the car door and bounded into the house.

Finland climbed up to the driver's seat, and Sweden had occupied shotgun. They slowly drove out of the driveway, the car slow from all the snow that had piled up while they were inside. After a comfortable silence, each nation in his own thoughts, Finland spoke up. "You talked to them. Do you think Denmark has good intentions?"

Maybe his husband wasn't the best person to ask, since he and Denmark had always fought for centuries. His answer was somewhat surprising. "Mn, Den s' treat'n him well. Norge doesn't w'nt t' let go."

Well, obviously, and Norway had always been a little more than overprotective. They were quiet the rest of the ride, because Sweden was honestly exhausted and didn't want to deal with a whining Dane and pissy Norwegian at one in the morning, especially if the latter had blunt objects. Finland was already running ideas in his head on how to help them make up, even though he kept telling himself it wasn't his business.

Just as his imagination expected Sweden to come out of the house like he just came out of a battle, Iceland expected the room to look like the set for a slasher movie. The worst damage the room had was the two lamps on the ground and the blood drops on the carpet.

Denmark had put clothes on a long time ago, and he had a wet rag pressed against his head. There was a black bruise spreading on his jaw and had a bit of a cut lip. Iceland awkwardly sat next to him, lightly leaning against his shoulder as a way to silently ask if everything was okay. He still felt restless and anxious, and he probably wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. Denmark tried to smile at him, but the bruised jaw just sort of made it look like a sagging smirk. "Feeling alright, baby?"

Iceland was a weird mix of every uncomfortable and awkward emotion in the world, but he just nodded. He was also exhausted.

"You go to sleep, I just got bandage this up."

He didn't want to look at the obvious wound, the fresh red and old, crusting black mixed with a forest of messy blonde hair. He settled for the patterns in the carpet. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Denmark kissed his head and he actually felt a little better, "Just try to sleep. I'll be right there."

The Dane unsteadily got off the bed and into the bathroom, cursing and trying to figure out where the first aid kit was, and how to use it for that matter. Iceland's puffin had come out of its hiding spot, and he held it close as he burrowed into the thick covers.

He thought a lot. About how much he liked Denmark, and he was sure it had escalated from 'like' to 'love', despite the huge fight. He knew all along that if his brother found out, he'd be furious. Iceland was bothered that he cried so freely, but honestly, Norway was scary! Bashing Denmark over the head was Sweden's official job, Norway was always verbal abuse. The only person who acted in character was Finland, and he was irritating with his "oh as long as your happy" spiel.

Iceland was drifting off with these thoughts when two muscular arms wrapped around his waist and held him close. Denmark rested his chin on the boy's mess of white hair.

"Finland said you should go to a hospital."

"I've had worse." That was true. It didn't make the situation any worse.

"Will Norway be okay?"

There wasn't a response for several minutes, and Iceland was about to ask again, but lips kissed him on his bangs and Denmark spoke, "Let's just sleep right now Alecks."

That'd be difficult, but he'd try, for the Dane's sake. Even though he was terrified by his brother's actions, Iceland knew Denmark wouldn't stop seeing him. And the island nation didn't want him to.

I wrote this because I'm so sick of the angst "Icey-loves-Denmark-who-loves-Norway". Srsly gaiz, it's depressing and doesn't give me OTP fluffies T_T

Lol a very random oneshot written for my sister, because of the above reason. And she loves angst, so I added A DIFFERENT KIND OF ANGST. OH MAI.

Yeah, I'm just really tired right now, and it's raining.