Belarus and Estonia like to argue, and who's Lithuania to judge? However, he might have to judge a little when it suddenly turns into something else entirely.
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1994
“—because you always think you’re so damn smart!”
Lithuania chews his sandwich and continues to ignore the stupid argument Belarus and Estonia are having. Or, well… It’s pretty one-sided from Belarus’s side, he thinks, because, especially over the past century, Estonia has really honed this mild, almost bland persona of his. It was often the best way to escape notice, which has been very valuable in years past.
“But I am,” he’s saying now, sounding ever-so-innocent about it, which is sure to rile Belarus up more.
Across the kitchen table, Ukraine catches Lithuania’s eye. They just shrug at each other. Latvia, quite wisely, decided earlier he’d go out to buy lunch to get away from all their official meetings today.
“Just because you’re fucking ancient doesn’t mean you’re smarter than me!” Belarus shouts.
“Hey, hey, I didn’t say that!” For the first time, Estonia slightly raises his voice in turn.
Lithuania glances over at the two of them, but quickly turns his attention back to his sandwich. He’s got another one, and is regretting having put cheese on both. He leans over to Ukraine.
“Any chance you want to trade me some lunch?” he asks softly, while Belarus shouts, “That’s what it damn well sounds like, Estonia!”
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” Estonia yells, which makes them both look over. That’s very unusual, for him, and as far as Lithuania knows, it always has been. Of course, Estonia practically lived a whole life before he even existed, but he likes to think he knows him well by now.
Ukraine tuts, turning back. “I have some salad, if you’d like that?”
With a slightly pained look, she slides a small plastic container across the table, and he hands her his second sandwich.
“You can’t take me, Estonia.”
“Ha! You fucking think?”
That makes Ukraine raise her eyebrows while she chews the sandwich, though Lithuania is less impressed. Just because Estonia doesn’t swear a lot, doesn’t mean it is particularly surprising either.
“Oh,” Belarus says, voice startlingly low in obvious challenge, “I would love to see you try.”
She has, Lithuania sees, crowded close to Estonia and is poking him in the chest with her long, black nails. Estonia is narrowing his eyes behind his glasses as he gazes down at her, drawn up to his full height. His fingers are flexing, and his nostrils flare.
Ukraine hums, swallowing, and says, “Do you think we should—”
Lithuania can’t even say which of them moves first, that’s how fast it happens; between one blink and the next, Belarus has her hands wrung into Estonia’s sweater, his hands are in her long hair, and she stumbles backwards as their mouths slam together. Lithuania hears her make a sound deep in her throat that he never imagined she could even produce.
“Uh,” Ukraine says.
She’s just as frozen in place as Lithuania is, both of them staring as Estonia backs Belarus up until she hits the fridge, their lips still locked and moving frantically. His glasses are knocked askew, and he is messing up Belarus's hair beyond belief.
“Lithuania,” Ukraine whispers urgently, “what in the world?”
He can only make a confused noise in reply, watching with morbid fascination as Belarus runs her hands across Estonia’s back and one of his long legs presses up between her thighs. What in the world, indeed.
Oh, thank god, they’re parting now—no, that’s not better. Both are breathing heavily. Belarus grins wildly up at Estonia, who honest-to-god smirks back and moves his leg, both of them obviously forgetting they are in a kitchen. With other people. She’s running her hands up under his sweater now!
Just as the two of them lean in again and press their lips back together, Ukraine whistles sharply between her fingers. Belarus knocks her head against the fridge, and Estonia stumbles back, tripping over his own feet. Both are flushed when they look over. As if it wasn’t weird enough before; Lithuania never thought he’d see the day Belarus blushed.
“Please get a room,” Ukraine says, sounding exasperated.
“We’re in a—” both of them start at the same time. They look at each other. Ukraine whistles once more before they start again, although Lithuania doesn’t know whether they were about to continue making out or arguing.
Estonia clears his throat, slowly disentangling himself from Belarus, who smooths down first his sweater and then her own hair, and her skirt.
“We should…” he starts. Belarus rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and then, without another word, she drags him out of the kitchen.
Ukraine and Lithuania sit in stunned silence for a while, blinking at each other. Eventually, Ukraine slowly picks up the cheese sandwich, lifting it to her mouth.
“What the fuck!” Latvia shouts, bursting into the room. “Why are Belarus and Estonia making out in the hall? I was gone for half an hour!”
Lithuania drops his forehead on the kitchen table.
PruAme (either as a one-sided thing during the Revolution or when they’re older)
AmeSey
AmeIta
Other Ships:
AusHun
Cankraine
RusViet
TurkPol
GerIta
EstBela
SpaBel
EngPort
IceLat
Prumania
I have a soft spot for NedCan.
I also have a soft spot for PolHun.
Lately I’ve started growing fond of NedPan.
I kind of like Cuba x India. Though I also want to ship Cuba x Ethiopia, but there’s no Ethiopia character, unless that was Seychelles’s friend the World Stars strips. No, she’s not Madagascar.
I also want to ship Taiwan with a female Belize (cause I headcanon Taiwan as a lesbian), but there’s no Belize character, either, rip.
This drabble was originally written for APH Estonia Week, using the Day 1 prompts EstBela + Affection (or lack of, in this case). I finished this on the day of the start of the event but in the end didn’t post it. I’ve been debating since then whether or not it should see the light of day but some of friends like it so it’s going up mainly for them.
Pairing: Estonia/Belarus, with Estonia/Lithuania and Hungary/Belarus
Word Count: 593
Summary: Maybe they weren’t as content as they would like would like to admit.
She doesn’t hug him—and he’s okay with that.
She doesn’t kiss him either. He’s okay with that too.
She never holds his hand in public. Not a big deal; he doesn’t like any form of PDA and hardly anyone does back home either.
She never tells him how much she loves him. He’s just as bad as she is.
They hardly ever make love to each other. That suits him just fine. He has never felt any desire to be intimate like that with anyone before and he doesn’t think that will ever change.
Their friends were baffled by the way their relationship was like. Their love wasn’t entirely lifeless however. They just did things differently than others.
There were no secrets between them and respected each other’s personal space. They never judged one another for their interests; they had more in common than most would think and they were happy to engage in long conversations about the supernatural, science, music, and crime novels. They went on peaceful dates to their favourite spots in the parks, the downtown market, and the theater. Estonia was happy to buy little gifts here and there and bake up her favourite sweets as a way to show he loved her. He knew she was thinking of him when she would spot old books for his collection and buy cheap gadgets that he could fiddle around with in his office.
They boosted each other up when they were feeling low although she had an interesting way of showing it. Her most recent comment, “What? You’re just going to let him insult you like that? Grow a dick and kick his teeth in!” still rang strong in his head after a frustrating altercation with an off-duty guard who hurled insults the entire time they were at a bar. He thankfully did not follow that advice, much to her disappointment. Estonia didn’t need a diplomatic scandal for his bosses to deal with. But she was quick to forgive him when Estonia took her to a different bar where a local rock band was putting on a wild show.
But most importantly, Belarus smiles for him. She laughs along with him. She shows the side of her that almost no one ever did and that was the greatest gift of them all. She never did that for just anyone. You had to earn it and he certainly did.
Latvia joked once that they were nothing more than friends who happened to have slept together once or twice; a relationship of convenience, he had called it. But Estonia shrugged it off. They were content with the way things were.
Yes, they were content.
He says this as he has his arms around another man, that of his good friend Lithuania, as he affectionately strokes Estonia’s cheek.
He says this as Belarus is in the other room sharing a heated kiss with his cousin Hungary and balancing a drink in her left hand. He can hear Hungary’s voice as she giggles contently within Belarus’s embrace.
“When are you going to stop lying to yourself?”
“It’s not a charade. We really do love each other.”
“I don’t think you know what love is.”
Estonia lowers his head and bit his lip. He doesn’t want to admit that he and Latvia were right. Maybe they weren’t as content as they would like would like to admit.
They wouldn’t be getting their love from others if things were okay.
He hates that he looks like a fool. He wondered if Belarus felt the same way.
