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"For the winter." Denmark's smile was wide as he thrust the bundle at Norway.
Unwrapping it carefully, Norway didn't have to look to know what it was. Sure enough, it was a lump of pale golden butter, just as it was every year. His chest constricted, because this gift meant that this would be the last time he saw Denmark until the spring so many months from now. Slowly, ignoring the twinge he felt, he scooped up a little with his finger, inspecting it carefully before licking a taste off his finger.
"Is it good?" Denmark asked, impatient for an answer. Twigs on the forest floor crunched under his shoes as he bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet.
Norway nodded.
"Good, good!" It was the same laughter as always, but it made the ache under Norway's breastbone even more acute. Hefting his pack, Denmark made to return to the shore. "Well, then."
The wool of Denmark's cloak was soft between his fingers as he reached out and snatched it. It hadn't been a conscious movement, but he didn't regret doing it as Denmark stopped against the resistance and looked back over his shoulder.
"Hm?"
"I-- Thank you." Cursing his clumsy tongue, his line of sight fell to the ground. "I want to thank you."
Denmark turned, retracing the few steps he'd taken before being stopped by the yank on his cloak. "You're welcome," he said, clearly surprised at the sentiment. Norway rarely spoke, and when he did, it was usually to criticize.
Looking up with a determined frown, he pulled on Denmark's collar none too gently, hauling him down to Norway's level. Stupid Denmark, hitting his growth spurt before him. He was confident he'd catch up soon enough.
"What, you need to tell me a secret?" Denmark said with forced laughter. Why did he never shut up?
"No," Norway said derisively. Carefully, he pressed his lips against Denmark's.
It was a little awkward, but pleasant. Denmark's lips were surprisingly soft, and the feeling made the ache in his chest explode into a different, good kind of hurt.
Reluctantly, they separated. "You taste like butter," Denmark said, gazing at Norway fondly. It was an inane comment, but it still did something funny to his insides. While he lived in the forest, he went to the nearby town often to talk to and help his people, and he knew people about the same age as him were starting to get very interested in things like kissing and marriage. He'd even run across some visitors to his forest that seemed to enjoy it very much, making him think he might like to kiss someone, and that someone might be Denmark. He was glad Denmark didn't seem to mind kissing him back.
As they stood there, he had the slow realization that once wasn't going to be enough. The intensity of his need to keep Denmark with him doubled. "Stay with me," he demanded. Denmark never denied Norway anything. He would say yes, he would.
"I wish I could," Denmark sighed after a long moment. His expression looked as torn as Norway's heart felt. "But my house isn't provisioned for two, and I doubt yours is either. Besides, there was talk of more warmaking and-- I need to be with my people."
Retreating behind his emotionless mask, Norway said nothing, for fear his voice would betray his emotions, especially because he knew Denmark was right.
"I'll come back as soon as I can, I promise," Denmark said anxiously. "Okay?" He brought a hand up to cup Norway's cheek gently.
Though he was tempted not to react out of spite, Norway laid his hand on top of Denmark's and nuzzled into the touch, knowing he would regret wasting this moment if he let his anger get in the way. It wasn't really okay, but he nodded anyway, trying to soak up as much of Denmark's warmth as possible against the chill in the air.
Denmark backed away, giving Norway a smile he tried to memorize every detail of. He followed Denmark's hand with his own as it slid off his cheek, until only their fingertips reached, slipping out of each other's grasp. Turning to run toward the shore, Denmark kept looking back over his shoulder, waving each time. Norway stood there watching until long after Denmark was out of sight.
Holding the butter close, he set off for home. It wasn't much, but it would have to last him until the Spring.
* * *
Otherwise, there was no way anything in modern Oslo would have reminded him, if he hadn't happened to overhear the conversation of the two girls shopping next to him. They both looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and they seemed to be putting far too much thought into the dairy aisle.
"I'm telling you, my mother said you use unsalted for baking!"
"But we always buy the salted..." She seemed to shrink in the face of her friend's bossiness. "I just don't want to mess this up."
The first girl sighed a long-suffering sigh. "He'll like you no matter what your cookies taste like."
"But..."
"It's unsalted for baking." Norway leaned around them and hefted two packages, dropping one in the girls' basket and keeping one for himself.
They jumped as if they hadn't seen him there. "See, I told you," the first girl said, recovering quickly. "Thank you, sir." The pair hurried away, looking embarrassed.
Norway didn't mind them as they left, instead contemplating the butter with a small smile on his face. Dropping it in his basket, he set off in a good mood to finish his shopping.
* * *
"Here," Norway said, thrusting the bag at Denmark's chest as soon as he opened the door.
Denmark looked confused, but dug into the bag. It didn't seem to resolve anything when he pulled out the butter Norway had brought him, and he gave him a questioning look.
"For the winter," Norway said simply.
Recognition sparked in Denmark's eyes, and his mouth curved into a slow, mischievous smile. "Guess I have to thank you properly."
"Yeah, you do," Norway said, Denmark's voice making the same mush of his insides as always.
But Denmark surprised him, stepping out onto the stoop, leaning down and giving him a sweet, closed mouth kiss. With the chill in the air warning of the winter to come, he could almost imagine they were in that forest again at the innocent start of what they had not idea then would out to be a turbulent relationship. Loosing himself in the moment, he let his eyes stay closed as Denmark pulled away and cradled his cheek in his palm just like he had all those years ago. "Stay with me," he said in more of a sigh than a demand.
"Okay," Denmark promised, and it was as simple as that.
Norway wound his arms around Denmark's neck, pulling him down for another kiss, slow and tender. They backed up slowly into the warmth of Denmark's house, kicking the door shut behind them, but as the corner of the package grazed his back, Norway pulled back. Denmark gave him a questioning look.
"I brought you unsalted."
"Huh?" Denmark clearly didn't follow, so Norway would have to spell it out for him.
"For baking." It wasn't a demand per se, or so Norway reasoned.
Denmark just laughed good-naturedly. "So it is. I could whip this up into a batch of butter cookies, but they have to chill for a while before I can bake them."
"I know that," Norway said, feigning irritation. "But you're going to need that time to finish thanking me."
Denmark smirked and leaned down to look Norway in the eye, "You're right, I've got a lot of gratitude left."
"Well, get to it, then," Norway complained, cheeks warming, "Because I might have some thanks to give you too."
"Is that so?" Denmark boomed, looking happy, and Norway melted. Still helplessly smitten even after so many years, he followed Denmark into the kitchen.