Work Text:
It was almost midnight, but the moon and stars illuminated the falling snow with a soft, cool glow. The flakes fell slowly and gently onto the ground and trees, creating a picturesque winter landscape one would find on a Christmas card. Wrapping the scene together was one house. The warm light shining from a window contrasted with the cool palette of the rest of the view. Inside, in that little room, was a crackling fireplace, illuminating the room with pitiful neglected embers. A man hunched over his desk, rifling through papers with an extreme focus. His eyes were tired, and every blink was long and slow, but he could not allow himself to submit to the temptation of sleep. It was nearly December 14th and he was nowhere near where he needed to be in regards to his work.
Finland’s job every year was to act as Santa Claus for all the children of the world, but god… that was so many children. Every year, he ran himself ragged trying to make all of them happy. He loved nothing more than to see the smiles on everyone’s faces Christmas morning. However, the work itself was exhausting. It was almost enough to make him dread December every year. He was usually on top of it, able to get everything done before the 24th with minimal assistance from any other country, but after many delays this year, he was extremely behind. The mostly cheerful man was starting to feel the toll of the stress. He hardly left the study he worked in these days, barely slept or ate, only submitting to those needs when he was on the verge of passing out. Nothing could distract him. Nothing. The world was counting on him.
“Finland,” a quiet, yet strong voice spoke from the doorway. Finland looked up, and if he wasn’t on the precipice of exhaustion, he would have jolted his head upward at the surprise interruption. It was Sweden. The country’s body took up the entire doorway like a wall, and his face was a mask of stone. Finland sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Yes, Sweden? Do you need something…?” he yawned. Sweden just stared at the country, his eyes drifting to the disorganized mountain of papers. Finland felt himself grow a little self conscious. Sweden probably wasn’t thinking anything bad, but it would really help to know what he was thinking…! He didn’t have a lot of time to decipher the other’s thoughts. He was too behind.
“If you don’t need anything, then leave me be, please,” Finland said, turning his attention back to his papers. This one was a letter from a girl named Marianne Dashwood from England, age eight. She wanted a piano and a lot of books for Christmas… Books are easy, but a piano… that would be a lot more difficult. What kind of piano is appropriate for an eight year old? Maybe one from a children’s toy store, but what if she meant to genuinely pursue piano? Would a slightly more professional piano be more appropriate then? But she is an eight-year-old… how serious could she really be thinking about such a skill? Distracted by his thoughts, Finland hadn’t even noticed that his tone toward Sweden was slightly harsh, harsher than he had ever taken. He also didn’t see Sweden’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, a rare expression of visible emotion for the country. Sweden stood at the doorway, unmoving, before he took a few heavy steps into the room and swept Finland up out of his chair, holding him like a man would his bride. Finland let out a yelp as the papers fell from his hands and fluttered to the floor. Before he could process the solidity and warmth of Sweden’s body, the other country began to carry him out of the room and down the hall. He kicked the door to Finland’s bedroom open and dropped the other onto the soft mattress. Finland let out a squeak in surprise as his back hit the bed, and he looked up at the silent country, his eyes widening as his mind caught up to the swift movement from study to bedroom. Even if his brain wasn’t lagging, it was definitely a sudden change.
“Sweden?” Finland said the other country’s name in a confused yet tired voice. Now that the shock had worn off and his body was in a comfortable position, sleep was beginning to overtake him. But, he couldn’t rest. Not yet. Not when he was so far behind…
“You’re working too hard,” was all the other said. He just looked down at Finland in the bed, betraying nothing that was going on in his head. Finland ran a hand over his face. Maybe he was, but… he needed to. All those kids on Christmas relied on him every year. Finland sat up.
“I need to get back to work…” he said, “Sweden, I-”
But, before he could finish the sentence, Finland was forced to lay back down. He closed his eyes and let out a gasp as his back hit the mattress again, but it was slightly more forceful this time. He opened his eyes slightly to see Sweden looming over him, one hand firmly gripping his shoulder. Finland was like a pinned bug to a wall; no amount of squirming would allow him to free himself from the other’s grasp. He swallowed and his eyes widened slightly.
“You need to sleep for a while,” Sweden said, his voice firm.
“But-”
“I said you need to sleep for a while,” Sweden insisted, his voice a little harder. Finland’s eyes widened and he felt a trickle of unease go through him at the tone of the other’s voice. Sweden was blunt and quiet, but he was never unkind. Just now, though, his voice contained a hint of irritation. Finland didn’t want to make the other country upset, not when he was so kind to him. He guessed that Sweden was tired of Finland running himself ragged. Maybe it bothered him to see the other so full of stress and pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. If that was the case, it was kind of sweet. Perhaps he could indulge in a few hours of lying here, just for the sake of his friend.
“Alright,” Finland agreed, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll rest, Sweden, but you have to promise to help me go through those letters later, to make up for lost time!” Finland gave the other country a smile, and even though it was strained with exhaustion, Finland felt the other country’s hand give a (involuntary) squeeze. Whatever emotion Sweden was feeling, it was positive.
Sweden let go, but it was slow, and he stood up straight again, standing at the bedside. He lingered for a few moments before he began to leave the room. Finland watched his retreating form and was struck with the memory of the feeling of the country’s arms as he had held him in the study. How strong they felt and how secure… Finland felt some warmth rise to his cheeks at the recollection, and perhaps it was his exhausted brain making him bolder, like he was drunk on fatigue, but before Sweden could leave the threshold and shut the door, Finland called out:
“Wait, Sweden…?”
Sweden stopped and turned around, looking back at the smaller country. Finland stared at him a little--not saying anything for a few moments--just staring into the other’s face, noting the country’s strong jaw, his square and shining eyes. He didn’t move his head from the pillow, his body too tired to want to. If Finland were awake enough to notice, he would have seen Sweden’s fists clench at the sight of him looking at him in that way in that position.
“Do you mind laying in here with me? I’d sleep better that way,” Finland confessed. It hardly made sense, but Finland just knew that he would, even if he had no reason to think so. Was it the fact that Sweden was a strong and warm person to hold? That gave Finland a little security, even in the study. But was it just Sweden’s physicality, or was it also the fact that his presence, while intimidating at first, gave Finland that comfort all on its own? Regardless, Finland asked, and once again, he wasn’t awake enough to observe the fact that Sweden grew stiffer.
“Okay,” Sweden said flatly, betraying nothing. He made his way over to the other side of the bed and lay down next to Finland over the blanket, folding his hands onto his chest and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t even taken his glasses off. Finland turned his head toward him and let out a chuckle. He scooted closer to Sweden and wrapped his arms around the other country’s stomach, burying his face into his chest.
“You don’t have to be so far away. We’ve slept close together before,” Finland said into the fabric of Sweden’s shirt. It muffled his words, but Sweden heard them, since he gave a small sound of affirmation. What was making the other country so nervous? One night, they had to sleep on the ground and huddle for warmth, and they hardly knew each other then. So perhaps now that they were friends and in a more private setting like a bedroom, it embarrassed Sweden. If that was the case, then it amused Finland how wholesome the other country was. Finland wasn’t exactly dirty-minded like, say, France, so he could hardly find anything inappropriate about enjoying the warmth and proximity of his close friend. If Sweden was embarrassed, it was very cute.
Finland inhaled the scent of Sweden’s shirt; he smelled of the fireplace and wood shavings. He had probably been carving something by the fire before he found Finland. The smell was soothing. That coupled together with Sweden’s firm body and silent presence making Finland feel secure, the country felt his eyes droop further, and he was soon asleep.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Finland’s eyes blinked open. He felt warm… so warm. An arm was wrapped around his body and he felt fingers running through his hair in slow, gentle repetitions. He stirred slightly and the movements stopped. Shifting his body, he moved away from the mass he was cuddling to look up and see Sweden looking down at him. The country’s eyes were briefly unfocused, like he was coming out of a trance, but as soon as Finland made eye contact, they reverted back to their usual hardened selves. Finland felt the flush of sleep on his cheeks and he struggled to properly wake up. He was more tired than he realized, and he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, but he knew he needed to get back to work.
“Hello, Sweden,” Finland greeted the country. Sweden stared back at him without saying anything. Finland rubbed his eyes and sat up. When he saw how light the room was, he felt dread rush through him. What time was it? He turned to the side table where he had an old-fashioned alarm clock and felt dread pool into his stomach. It was eight in the morning. He slept far longer than he had intended to. He jolted upright, startling the country next to him, and grabbed the alarm clock to look at it closer, as if he could will the hands to turn back.
“Oh no!” Finland exclaimed, “It’s so late! Sweden, I need to get back to work! Um, look, I hate to ask you this, but can you please help me?”
Sweden nodded in agreement and Finland practically beamed. He made to stand up so he could leave the room and go back to his study, but he was forcefully tugged back by his shirt. He hit the mattress again, letting out a startled cry. Shaking his head, he sat up to find that Sweden had raced to the door, pausing only to look back at the other country to see he was still in bed, before he slammed the door behind him. Finland took only a couple seconds to process what just happened before he leapt to his feet and ran to the door. He tried to open it, but it wouldn’t move. Locked. Finland tugged on it desperately, as if by sheer force of will he could get it to open, but no luck. He felt a rare feeling of anger swell through him and he pounded on the door.
“Sweden!! What the hell are you doing? This isn’t helping me at all!! Sweden!!” Finland continued to hit the door; his fists began to hurt at the force he was exerting onto the dark wood.
“You need to sleep a little longer,” a small voice came from the other side of the door, causing Finland to freeze. Was that… Sweden? Well, of course, it would have to be. Sweden was the only country there. But… Finland had never heard his voice like that before. It was so… tender and gentle.
“It hurts me to see you run yourself to the ground like that, Finland,” Sweden continued, “You’re so behind because you’re not giving yourself a break and you’re exhausted… Let me do it for a few more hours. Please.”
Finland felt his chest squeeze. Sweden said more words just now than he normally did in a day, and they were so genuine… Was his relentlessness really hurting Sweden that much? But why? It wasn’t like Finland being exhausted and overworked hurt Sweden in any way except for having to deal with it, but Finland had been keeping to himself. He only asked for help just now out of desperation due to so much lost time-- time that Sweden himself had made him lose-- so it wasn’t like he had been a burden… so… Sweden must care more than what visibly showed. Sure, his methods had been… odd… but it was all very…him. Finland smiled.
“Okay… I’ll sleep. I trust you, Sweden.”
Finland thought he heard a sharp inhale from the other side of the door, but he dismissed the thought as he heard the sound of Sweden’s footsteps go down the hallway. He took a step back from the door, rubbing his aching fist before walking to the bed and laying back down. He snuggled into the soft quilt and inhaled, smiling and closing his eyes.
It smelled like a fireplace and wood shavings.