Hello! Time for another one-shot, because I really love my OTP and couldn't resist writing something about them ;v; I hope it's alright!

Norway always had a quaint conviction that his Danish counterpart would react in a way such as this, but had never put it to the test.

It had only begun just minutes before. It wasn't uncommon for the couple to argue about things many people would consider petty, and this particular disagreement was caused by the TV remote tossed carelessly between their spaces on the sofa. As expected, their personalities were not the only things that made them differ from one another. The duo had a complete opposite taste in what they found entertaining on the TV. Denmark was a sucker for comedians and cheesy game shows. The Norwegian, however, generally leaned towards dramas and horror shows, which often placed them in a difficult predicament when it came to quiet evenings at home.

On most occasions, Denmark would eventually give a nonchalant shrug. It was his way of admitting defeat, allowing Norway to watch the shows that he wanted. Sporadically vice versa, if Norway was exceptionally tired and knew he would fall asleep soon enough to prevent him from being bored throughout the duration of the shows.

Unfortunately, for no evident reason in particular, both nations were feeling considerably stubborn that night. More often than not, arguments that took over ten minutes to negotiate ended up as friendly competition between the two, and the remote situation was no different. After a long exchange of convincing words and unimpressed glances, the personifications began to wrestle one another for possession of the device.

Denmark gritted his teeth as he leaned over the Norwegian, currently holding the small black control in his vice-like grip. He lunged for it, only for Norway to move it effortlessly out of the way of the other man, earning him a frustrated huff. He repeated this numerous times, each attempt to no avail. Norway raised an eyebrow. It was a mocking look that aggravated the elder nation every time he saw it. It made him feel stupid in comparison to his partner, and he always seemed to lose a disagreement every time it was used against him.

With all the strength he could muster in the bothersome position he was in, Denmark gripped onto Norway's shoulders and yanked them both off of the sofa. They fell onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thud, and resumed their dispute with barely any hesitation. Only this time, the shorter nation was above the taller, and the remote had been exchanged to Denmark in the middle of the tussle.

Now, Denmark may have had an advantage in height, but it was certainly not the same with strength. A heavy force around his waist kept him incapable of moving far, and the familiar iron grasp had found its away around his wrist, anchoring his arm to the floor. His back arched beneath the weight, and he struggled to free himself.

Instead of making a grab for the remote immediately, Norway sat back on his calves to humour the Dane. He was clearly irritated, being stuck in this situation. His feeble struggling and protests made the Norwegian hum in amusement. He allowed his hand to fall back to his side, only to jump briefly when the nation beneath him squeaked as his fingers skimmed over his side.

His eyebrows arched curiously, and he watched Denmark's eyes widen ever so slightly. "...You're ticklish?" He stated more than he questioned, feeling a faint smile tug at his lips when the Dane frantically shook his head in response.
"Not at all! You would know by now if I-" His excuses were cut off by a loud giggle from his own mouth as Norway's hand brushed against his body once more. Norway let out another hum of satisfaction, and began to tickle his sides mercilessly. "How..." Norway began, speaking softly in between the growing chortles of laughter. "...Was I not aware that you were ticklish, Denmark?"

It wasn't long before Denmark was reduced to a shuddering, convulsing puddle, now unable to answer the previous question. His continuous bouts of laughter were loud, and he screwed his eyes shut to prevent himself from crying from the stimulation. His pleas of surrender fell upon deaf ears, and Norway continued his playful assault, remote long forgotten on the carpet beside the Dane's head. Only when he began to pity his companion did he stop, shuffling off of the man below him to help him sit up.

Denmark breathed a sigh of relief, and jabbed the Norwegian lightly in the stomach. "Having fun, was you?" He asked, shaking his head with a grin. The Norwegian simply nodded. "After all these years, I never knew you were ticklish."
He laughed nervously in response, alert for any signs that the other was planning to attack him once more. "Just around my waist. Nowhere else, really. It's just one of those pointless little things."
Norway shook his head in reassurance. "M'not gonna do it again. And I don't want to watch TV anymore." Denmark raised an eyebrow, but nodded briefly in agreement.
"Right... So what are you planning for us to do instead?"
"Watch a movie." He responded when they were both settled back on the sofa once again. "Something for both of us."
His answer was the light press of a kiss against his jawline, and an arm snaking around his waist to tickle his side ever so softly. "Mm... Sounds good to me."