Ej, really, Norge?

Denmark huffed.

And he puffed.

He didn't blow the house down, though. Didn't dare. He took care of his house, ja. It was too cozy. Too nice. Too warm, even on those cold days.

He pushed the hair out of his eyes, and leaned on the stove. Where the hell was Norge? Sverige wouldn't come, so he invited Kon, but he wasn't here yet. He jumped, forgetting he had the oven on, and took a step away.

"Nooooorge!" he whined, looking at his hurt hand.

Norway was tempted, right now, to turn around and go back. After all, nothing would come of this; it was just another waste of his time and energy. He had better things to do than to go randomly visit Danmark's house. He sighed irritably, knowing he'd never hear the end of it if he stood up the loudmouth Dane.

Finally he reached forward and rang the doorbell. He was already here anyway. He just hoped that King of Morons didn't already do something stupid he'd have to fix right away.

He heard the doorbell, and immediately forgot about his burned hand. He yelled out in Danish before practically running to the door, and swinging it open.

"Norge!" he yelled, throwing his hands in the air. And that made him remember his burn, and he whined again, lowering his arms and cradling his left hand. Denmark pulled Norway in, closing the door. He whined a bit more, going back into the kitchen and running his hand under cold water.

Norway vaguely wondered just how much of his irritation showed on his face, because he was absolutely annoyed. "What did you do to your hand, King Moron?" He sighed and went off to the bathroom to fetch bandages and other burn equipment. He didn't like his friends to be injured, even when they were annoying morons like Danmark.

Thinking of morons, he wondered why he was here and not Sverige. Hadn't the two of them started getting close lately? (Norway would never admit that he felt a sudden surge of jealousy every time he thought of this.) He made a mental note to ask later, once things had settled down.

He whimpered, "I...was cooking... And I leaned on the top of the stove, when the oven was on... And the heat, it transfers, you know." He shut the water off, and turned around to face the Norwegian. He dried his hands softly, wincing.

"I didn't mean to," he said, as if that would help his case.

He seemed to have not noticed the irritation.

As Norway listened to his explanation, he gently picked up Danmark's hand and started bandaging. He looked up sharply at him once he was done, but didn't realize he hadn't let go. "...You really are a moron. You were cooking and didn't realize the stove would be hot?" He shook his head in wonder.

"I... Sorry." He tried at smiling. "I leaned on it accidentally. At least you're here to make it better~!" He laughed lightly.

Denmark pulled his hand away, turning to the oven and leaning down to look inside. "Mn~ I made them for you and Sverige, but since he's not here, just for you." The oven timer went off, and he jumped. He opened the oven door and, being careful to use those oven things, took the tray of round discs out, placing them on the stove to cool.

Norway only barely suppressed a blush. He'd sooner kiss Russia than admit to Danmark that he'd been blushing. "Ja..." He hadn't realized he'd still been holding Danmark's hand... but felt almost crestfallen when he pulled away.

He bit the inside of his cheek at the bit about Sverige. Of course. There was nothing significant about Sweden's absence-- he just couldn't make it. He was very busy, like Norway was... Even if Norway actually would, if begrudgingly, drag himself away to make time for Danmark. He quickly shook such thoughts from his brain and stared at the food dubiously. "...What are these, again?" He couldn't really see them, from here, especially since he was staring through Danmark's back.

"Ej!" He picked up one of the discs, and turned around, shoving a warm, half-melted cookie in the Norwegian's hand. "Mn, they're cookies~I just felt like baking." He smiled softly. "I wanted to share with my two best friends."

He turned back to the oven, picked up a cookie sheet with scooped dough, and placed it in the oven. "I think I made too much dough, though... Oh, well~ We'll just eat it!" He turned back around, eating a cookie of his own.

"Ack!" Norway juggled the cookie in his hands, not expecting the warm disc to be shoved into his grasp so soon. He eyed it suspiciously. "...You made these? Are you sure they're fit for human consumption?" He blew on it, not ready to eat it yet. He didn't want to risk it falling apart and tumbling to the floor.

He nodded. "Of course! I read all the directions first before beginning!" He smiled, taking another bite of his. "Why wouldn't it be fit for human consumption?" Val finished his cookie. "Well, eat it!" His eyes sparkled.

"...Because YOU made it." He had a very serious face on, but his eyes glittered slightly. He obviously relished teasing the taller nation. Norway took a bite, finally, trusting it to be good-- which it was. He nodded, showing his satisfaction, but didn't say anything.

Denmark pouted a bit.

That is, until he ate the cookie, and nodded. Val's eyes shone, and he threw his hands in the air slightly. "Ahn, do you like them, Norge?"

Again, Norway nodded. He took another bite, being careful to hold the remains of his cookie firmly in case he was suddenly hugged. "...we.... should save some. For Sweden." It left a bad taste in his mouth, being so respectful towards someone he half-hated, but.... It was only fair. "Since you made them... for both of us, ja?"

He did take him into a hug, but was careful not to crush the cookie. When he pulled away, he pointed to the dough. "Oh, we don't have to~ There's plenty more we could always bake for him," he said, smiling widely. He picked up another cookie, gave it to Norge, and the proceeded to shove about three more into his mouth. "They're for you, too, so you can have as many as you want ~ !"

Norway mentally cursed, wondering why Danmark had to be so cute. He didn't really want to eat another one, despite how good it was... he just wasn't hungry. So, he ate it really slow. "...Are we just going to stand around eating cookies? I have better things to do, Danmark." Norway's face and voice were stern. He really couldn't think of anything he wanted to talk about, and Danmark was terribly talkative.

Val paused. "Hmn... Well, we could go see a film!" he suggested. "Maybe a sad movie~ I'm in the mood for a sad movie~" Denmark smiled, before taking Norge's hand, shutting the lights off, and exiting the house, locking it up.

Oh, but what about the next batch of cookies in the oven?

Norway flushed brightly as his hand was grabbed, and followed him out the door. He sighed and tugged his hand away, once he realized Denmark meant RIGHT NOW. "Oh... wait... I left my hat inside..."

Danmark stomped his foot. "Nh, Norge, hurry." He turned to face his walkway, halfway to the car, crossing his arms. He tapped his foot a bit impatiently, sighing. They'd miss the beginning if they were late!

"Norge, use the bathroom, too! So we don't wast time at the theatre."

Norway didn't really see how it made much of a difference-- either way, the same amount of time was used... But he decided to humor him and go. He headed for the bathroom before grabbing his hat-- he was still inside, after all. No point in grabbing it just to carry it around.

He cursed softly to himself, finally finding the bathroom deeper within the house. How he'd forgotten where it was, he had no idea. Still, at least it had only taken a few minutes to find it. He went ahead and locked the door when he was in the bathroom-- just in case Danmark decided to try and do something stupid.

Val frowned more, glancing at his imaginary watch on his wrist. How long does it take to get a hat and go to the bathroom?!

His back was still facing the house when he smelled the smoke. He waved it off, thinking that his neighbors were smoking or something again. Only when he felt the heat on his back did he turn around.

His house...His beautiful house was aflame.

And Norge was still inside.

Norway was washing his hands when he realized the bathroom had turned absurdly hot -- then he remembered the cookies. He cursed under his breath, reaching over to cautiously touch the doorknob--- which was hot. He swore outright, like the sailor he was, before stuffing the space between the door and the floor with a soaking wet towel. He promptly drenched himself in the shower, just in case.

...Just in case...

Denmark stood there for awhile, in shock. Wh-What should he do? Norge was in there... He couldn't go in though... It'd be too risky! So he stood, frowning in distress.

And then, suddenly, his shoulder made contact with the front door as he ran in, not caring for himself.

"N-Norge! Norge!" he yelled, running up the stairs, almost stumbling into fire. "Norge! Há-Hákon! P-Please don't die..." He whispered the last part.

Norway was soaked, huddled in the shower with a damp washcloth over his face, trying to keep out the smoke. He coughed, still. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach-- was he going to die here?! He couldn't open the door-- but he couldn't stay here, either... He whimpered.

He wished someone would save him.

He gasped at the flames, licking mercilessly at the bathroom door. He frowned, held his breath as if he was underwater, and run through the flames like an idiot, bursting the door open with his shoulder.

Val whimpered softly, stumbling over himself to get to Norge in a hurry. He wrapped his arms around the soaking man, coughing--no, hacking.

"N-Norge... L-Let's get you o-out of h-here..."

He didn't notice then, but he had burned his left hand, and the hem of his jacket was singed, his right leg burned.