Hetalia oneshots.

DenSu/SuDen: The reason why...

The familiar, gravity defying, blonde hair stood out among the rest of the people. Sweden could easily spot the slightly shorter male through the crowd. The 4 years age gap between Sweden and Denmark didn't bother either of them, they still despised each other. It was absurd to even think about the two of them getting along. Never again could Sweden trust the older male. Not after what happened when the spiky haired nation ruled over him. Denmark knew it too, but that wasn't the reason for his burning hatred for the taller but younger Swedish man. Not in the slightest. Denmark hated Sweden for leaving him, he often questioned himself as to why the Swedish nation couldn't see that he just needed someone at that time. He would never dare to voice his thoughts on the matter, though. If he did, he knew that he would be teased relentlessly for it.

Sweden stared down at the shorter nation, blue-green eyes not portraying any sympathy for the drunk, sobbing man. With an exasperated sigh, Sweden picked up the man, hoisting him up on his back. The same back that held hundreds of scars that Denmark had given him. He growled in anger at the thought. Why was he helping him in the first place? The idiotic Dane surely didn't deserve it. "S-Sve!" The shorter male cried out in a mix of joy and despair. Sweden felt as the Dane's hands shook violently, as the tears that streamed out from his cerulean eyes soaked his shirt. "Why do I constantly think about you, you, you-" The man was unable to complete his sentence from the tears that continued to drip from his red-rimmed eyes. Sweden almost paused in his walking to ask the Danish man what on Earth he was talking about, but shook his head, brushing it off as the alcohol talking. "I h-hate you, s-so much." Sweden continued to listen to his enemy's drunken rambling, not really expecting what would come next. "I-I love you, t-that's why-" His sentence was cut off by sleepiness.

Sweden sat down on Denmark's bed, watching his enemy sleep. He couldn't help but admire, in this short amount of time he was given, the way the Dane looked as he slept. Peace seemed to wash over his features, a small smile gracing his lips and his body entirely relaxed, happy dreams flooding his mind. Sweden watched as soon the small smile that he had just been wearing twisted and turned into a deep frown. He watched as Denmark began to cry crystalline tears in his sleep, never expecting that the overly happy Dane could be plagued by nightmares. "No, No please don't, please don't leave me..." Sweden thought for just a moment that perhaps he was to blame for the Danish man's night terror. He had always known of Denmark's fear of being forgotten or alone, and he knew he was also a reason for that fear. Somehow that thought made his chest hurt, he didn't like the idea of causing the happy nation fear. Subconsciously, he stroked the Danes hair, in an attempt to sooth him back to his peaceful sleep. It didn't work, instead only causing the male to thrash around in his slumber. Sweden froze, not knowing what to do. With anyone else, he would have woken them up and comforted them that way. But this was Denmark! His enemy for who knows how many years! And yet something inside him made him desperately want to awaken the man and comfort him.

"Denmark, wake up." Sweden shook Denmark awake, the crying man instantly shooting up and clinging onto Sweden. He loudly sobbed, choking on all of his tears. Sweden patted his back gently, before rubbing it soothingly. The older Danish man was acting like a young child that had just faced their worst fears, not that the Dane didn't already act like one, but at the moment, instead of him acting like a bratty child, he was acting like a frail one. Fragility was something Sweden never thought he would see in Denmark, but it was obvious he was proven wrong. "What happened?" Sweden wanted to know desperately, he needed to know what had hurt the male so much that he would cry. It was so unusual to see him cry. "Y-You left again. B-but you s-said that y-you h-hated me. A-and then y-you said that it would be better if I just died." Sweden took a sharp intake of breath, almost wanting to not believe the words that the Dane was telling him. Despite the fact that they didn't get along, Sweden would never say that he wished death upon Denmark. 

"You know I wouldn't say that." Denmark looked at his hands doubtfully. Sweden frowned in confusion. Surely Denmark didn't think that... No, no that wasn't possible. "I don't know, I guess just with you hating me like you do, it doesn't seem too far-fetched." Sweden almost missed the Dane's mumbling. An uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, he didn't like this at all. How could Denmark even think that he hated him to that point? After all the years they had known each other, he thought Denmark would have known better. "I would never." Denmark looked up at him, cerulean eyes rimmed with red. "But you would! You said it once before, I'm sure you would have no problem repeating it!" Sweden shook his head. Not once had he said that he wished that Denmark would just die unless he was talking about- no, he wasn't there, how could he? "I was lying."

"You seemed pretty honest to me!" Sweden's hands shook, no, his entire body shook. He couldn't believe that Denmark actually thought that he wanted him dead. "I mean, I already know everyone else wishes I wasn't there anyway, but hearing you say it just really hurt me." Sweden looked at Denmark right in the eye, looking for any trace of a joke or anything that one would expect from Denmark. He found none, only deep sadness, and hurt.

 In a flash Sweden had placed his lips on Denmark's, kissing the shorter male with so much passion it hurt. He could smell the sea on Denmark, the scent suiting the male quite nicely. His eyes slid shut, as he moved his hand to the back of the Dane's head, holding him in place as he kissed him. Denmark's gravity defying hair felt surprisingly soft. He was supposed to hate him, but something about this just felt right. Sweden could taste the usually unwelcome bitterness of alcohol on Denmark's lips, but it just made the entire moment just seem real to him. The sound of his heartbeat filled his ears, he could have sworn that Denmark would be able to hear the pounding of his heart against his chest. Denmark didn't kiss back for a long time, probably still in shock from having his supposed enemy kissing him. He quickly snapped out of his daze, moving his arms around Sweden's shoulders and kissing him back whilst sliding his eyes shut. 

Their lips moved in sync, neither one wanting to allow any space to come between them, the soft, sweet kiss was interrupted when Sweden made the brave move of pushing his tongue past Denmark's lips. Denmark made a distinct moaning sound, not used to being kissed with this much aggressive desire. He didn't want to be the submissive one in this kiss, he had something to prove too. He lifted his tongue out of his mouth, battling with Sweden's tongue. Sweden won the battle for dominance and quickly moved his tongue around Denmark's mouth. Denmark tugged gently on the Swedish man's hair, the other hand taking off the glasses that brushed up against his face uncomfortably. As soon as they were off, Sweden pulled Denmark onto his lap, wrapping his muscular arms around his waist. 

Denmark pulled away slightly, breathless from the kiss. "Sve," The Swedish man hummed to let him know that he was listening. "I love you." Sweden smiled and laid down on the bed, holding Denmark close to him. 

"I love you too, now sleep."

The reason why seemed too far lost in the fog to be mentioned, perhaps it was of spite that they found love? Perhaps it was rebellion that they did? It doesn't matter either way, though.