hetalia_kink

Denmark/Norway is preferred above all pairings (God knows I love me my Scandinavians). Sweden/Finland is secondary, as is anyone/Lithuania.

So, for some reason, the seme of whatever pair comes to believe that the other is pregnant. Cue them getting anywhere from upset to adorkably excited about it, not remembering that outside of the Internet pregnant men are biologically impossible.

It turns out, after a few weeks, that it was just a really bad cold/infection/recession. Cue the other nation having a facepalming "I-can't-believe-you-actually-thought-I-was-pregnant" moment.

Bonus: If the non-"pregnant" nation spreads the news to other nations, thus embarrassing both himself and his partner.
Super Bonus: If the other nation tries to teach their partner basic sex ed after they've finished having their facepalm moment.

Hate mpreg and love DenNor? My sweet anon we could be soulmates.
--------

This is how it all got started: "I don't feel so good."

Denmark glanced over at Norway. "I thought you didn't get hungover?" Denmark hugged his pillow closer to his naked chest, taking stock of his bedmate. "And we didn't even drink that much last--" The covers were thrown in Denmark's face as Norway bolted out of the bed for the bathroom, swinging the door behind him. Seconds later, the unmistakable sound of gagging and reclamation of last night's meal could be heard through the door. "Norge? Norge!" Frowning, Denmark got up from bed and padded over to the bathroom to tap on the ajar door. "Norge are you oka--"

"STAY THE FUCK OUT!" The door slammed, nicking Denmark's finger in the process. He howled.

An hour later, Norway finally stumbled out of the bathroom and back into bed, face considerably pale. Warily, Denmark glanced at him from his corner of the bed where he had his injured finger in a glass of ice. "Er... How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. Shut up." Norway wrapped himself up in the blanket and turned away, soft snores drifting from him moments later.

Denmark was genuinely worried now; he'd never known Norway to get sick. Living within kilometers of the Arctic Circle meant a fairly healthy resistance to, well, anything that wasn't the sun. As quietly as he could, Denmark and his little glass of ice got up from the bed and left the room, making his way to the study down the hall. There he sat down at the computer, jiggled the mouse to wake it up from the Hello Kitty screen saver Japan had installed, and opened up FireFox. If he found out what was wrong with Norway and got the man medicine or helped him get better faster, surely their tumultuous relationship would improve, right? Maybe to the point that Norway would even let him decide when they had sex! Oh man, that would be awesome!! With newfound determination, Denmark steered his browser to WebMD and opened up the symptom diagnosis application.

"Okay, so here we go..." Denmark scrolled down the list of symptoms, checking off the first one he saw: Exhaustion. "Well, Norge did say he was tired." Sneezing, no.... Coughing, no... Rash, he fucking hoped not... "Aha! Headaches! Norge's always complaining about those when we're together." Denmark went through the list as best he could. "Food cravings? Well, Norge really wanted those clams last night, so yeah." Check. Nausea, a definite check. He clicked the submit button, and a new series of questions popped up for Denmark answer.

"Hmmm... Nausea in the morning?" Denmark glanced over at the clock; 7 AM certainly counted as the morning. Check.

The screen popped up a new question, and Denmak cocked his head at it. "Are Norge's breasts tender?" He really didn't know. Last night's tumble in the sheets was a bit foggy; had Norway complained more than usual? "I'm not sure, internet; can I skip this question?" The internet didn't reply, so it was safe to say that no, no he could not skip it. With a sigh, Denmark got up and snuck back into his bedroom.

Norway was still fast asleep, but luckily he hadn't put a shirt on this morning. Not wanting to wake him, Denmark gently pulled back the covers and placed his hand--the one that had been numbed in the glass of ice--on Norway's left pectoral. Norway's eyes flashed open. "Oh, you woke up! Good." Denmark gave a slight squeeze. "Do they feel tender?"

"...I'm going to kill you now."

That was as good as a yes, so Denmark ran back to the study, alarm clock neatly missing his head by a few inches. "Okay, internet, I've got the answer!" Denmark hit the submit button and waited for the answer screen to pop up. Finally it loaded, and Denmark gasped. He stared at the screen. He gasped again. "Oh, man... He's really... is he..." Denmark felt a cold wave of fear wash through his body; Norway was pregnant because the internet said so. Norway was pregnant, and Denmark was the father. (Because Norway would only ever have sex with him, duh.) Denmark slumped in his seat, suddenly drained of all energy. When he finally came back to his senses, a full hour had passed and Japan's stupid screen saver was back on the computer.

How was he to handle this? Denmark wasn't ready to be a father! Sure, he was great with kids--look at Iceland!--and could provide for a family, but but but... He had no idea how to handle this. He needed assistance from someone who had dealt with this before. Denmark picked up his cell phone and went downstairs to make coffee and call Turkey.

"Hello?"

"Turkey!"

"...Denmark? What the hell?"

Denmark gripped the counter as he watched tiny drops of coffee slowly fall into the pot. "Turkey, I need some advice."

"If this is about ottoman footstool things again, for the last time, Ottoman Empire doesn't mean--"

"No! It's about your kid!"

"Eh?"

Denmark took a deep breath. "Turkey. What did you do when Greece had Cyprus?"

There was a pause on the other line. "Uh. Come again?"

"How did you feel, when you found out?"

"Well... angry, I guess."

"Angry?"

"Well yeah; it was his fault!"

Denmark clucked his tongue. "That's no good; it takes two to tango! You're just as at fault for not using protection!"

"As in... missiles?"

"Well. I don't know how that would work, but sure. Anyway, how are you and Greece taking care of Cyprus now?"

"None of your business," came the gruff reply. "We're dealing with things our own way, trying to do what's best, alright? Split up Cyprus fairly. Nosy bastard."

"Wait--you mean you and Greece are separated?"

"Well. Since the 1800s, yeah."

Aghast, Denmark made a bold declaration: "A child should not have to live in a broken home!" Denmark was really fired up now, and he slammed his cell phone down on the counter--cracked it, even--and poured himself a cup of coffee. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't have his son or daughter growing up in an unstable environment, an un-nurturing environment. Denmark wanted to take Norway and their child to Tivoli Gardens, show the little tyke how to hold an axe and drink a beer when he came of age or was tall enough to reach the bar, whichever came first... Denmark slammed down his coffee cup--cracked it, even--and marched right back upstairs to his bedroom.

Norway was asleep again, but Denmark threw off the covers and at Norway's startled yelp, he kneeled himself on the floor before Norway. "Norge! I swear I will support you no matter what!"

Norway stared at the Dane, unsure if this was a hallucination from his nausea or if Denmark really was this odd. "...you what?"

"I will support you!"

A blond eyebrow rose at that. "Well. Good," Norway said cautiously. Then, a thought occurred to him. "At today's world meeting, you'll support me there too?"

"Yes, of course!" Denmark's eyes were earnest, and despite himself Norway could find nothing displeasing--except the sheer abruptness of this all.

"Al... right then." Norway glanced at the clock and decided he may as well shower and get ready for said meeting. With Denmark's support, his motion was sure to pass this time.

"Easy, easy, watch the steps!" Denmark held onto Norway's hand with a stiff grip, arm wrapped around the shorter man's waist as he helped Norway up the stairs to the meeting room.

"What are you doing," Norway seethed. This was why they were late; Denmark had refused to get in the first taxi because it smelled like tobacco smoke, then he insisted on blocking all traffic just so Norway could cross the street to the building. "You're acting ridiculous!"


"Shhhh, it's okay, I've got you," Denmark whispered, and he finally relinquished his death-grip in the shorter man. He opened the door for Norway and gently ushered the man into the meeting room. All eyes were on them as they took their seats.

"And here I thought America was always the latest," England snorted.

Denmark glared. "Hey, buddy, we had precious cargo to get here!"

Norway eyed the documents in his hand; Denmark was calling his proposal 'precious'? He fought the minute urge to blush at that for some reason. "Well, England, let's just cut right to the chase: Proposal Number 112." Here Norway waved the documents in his hands as everyone around him groaned.

"It's preposterous!" England barked.

"Well I think it's a good idea," Finland piped up.

America groaned. "Can't you put more pictures in the proposal?"

And Italy just smiled. "Ve, is it time for lunch yet, Germany?"

Norway elbowed Denmark and whispered: "Now would be a good time to show your support."

"Huh? Oh, right!" Clearing his throat, Denmark stood. "Excuse me, everyone!" Only a few people bothered to stop talking, but that would have to do. "Norway and I... are having a baby! He's pregnant!"

Well, that certainly got everyone to shut up.

Norway stood up as well, patting Denmark on the back. "Thank you. As you can see, Denmark is also in support of Proposal Number 112 so that essentially means that I'm pregnant." Norway paused, then whirled on Denmark. "I'M WHAT?"

"Pregnant!" America yelled into the silence.

"Pregnant," Denmark confirmed. "You're all invited to the baby shower; we're registered at Ikea." And here he gave a nod to Sweden who nodded back in approval.

"Ve, ve! Congratulations, Norway!"

"Science has come quite far, da?"

Just as Netherlands was giving Denmark a hearty pat on the back, Norway grabbed his tie and shirt and shook him with a troll-like strength. "What the fuck have you done!?"

Denmark blinked. "Well, when a man loves another man--"

"No! That's not even what I--"

England coughed. "Male pregnancy is an impossibility, Denmark."

"Oh England." Denmark rolled his eyes. "How can you say that with America and Canada in this very room?"

France chuckled. "Yes, angleterre, how can you deny the proof of our amour?"

A bushy eyebrow twitched. "We found America and Canada, you fucking frog."

America's voice was small and broken. "I'm... adopted?" Canada pat his brother on the back.

Denmark--still in Norway's death grip--frowned. "But Turkey said that he and Greece had Cyprus."

"He said WHAT?" Greece asked.

"I said WHAT?" Turkey asked.

"Yeah, over the phone this morning, you said that--"

"I was NEVER pregnat," Greece snarled.

Turkey was glaring daggers at Denmark. "So help me if you get me cockblocked for another two centuries, sonnovabitch--"

Norway shook Denmark's attention back to him. "What the hell made you possibly think I could be pregnant with anything besides contempt for you?"

"Well, you always have headaches, you're fatigued, you threw up this morning--"

"Because I ate bad clams last night and topped it off with bad sex with you last night," Norway seethed, shaking Denmark with each word.

"But the internet said--"

"FUCK THE INTERNET!"

Here, America and Estonia both gasped. "Don't bring the internet into this!"

Finland clapped his hands over Sealand's ears.

Denmark frowned, taking great consideration to get through all this. "So... you're not pregnant?"

Norway's eyes were filled with a fire and Viking fury. "No."

"Aw."

Norway threw Denmark out the window. Granted, they were only on the first floor, but it was the principal of the thing.




Finland coughed lightly as he tapped on the door of the first aid station. Norway was wrapping a bandage around Denmark's head--despite everything, he did love he stupid bastard--and nodded to the other blond. "Come in."

"The rest of the meeting went fine, just to let you know. Sweden and I are heading home now, but, ah, I just wanted to let you know that Sealand has always wanted to go to Tivoli Gardens." Finland shrugged. "Maybe the two of you could take him some day so Sweden and I can have a date night? If it's not too much trouble."

Denmark's eyes were eager as he glanced at Norway. Norway sighed. "I don't see any harm in that. Next week would be fine, even."

"Alright!" Denmark pumped his fist in the air. "I can't wait to show that kid how to drink beer!"

"I believe England's already seen to that," Norway muttered, but he didn't put down the idea entirely.
------

Author anon here isn't either of the above anons, so there's at least four of us who aren't keen for mpreg. Also, I really truly do love Denmark; he's probably one of my top five characters~ Sorry if he seems incredibly dumb, but it's for the lulz.

And if you don't get the Turkey/Greece/Cyprus thing... Google that shit! Because knowledge is power!

anon. i am stunned by how awesome this was.

denmark. ilu. (and you too, author!anon).

this was so awesome anon!

Oh, I love this so much! Count me as another that is not so keen on mpreg (BIOLOGY DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY) and this was an awesomely lulzy take on it.

Also, my absolute favorite bit was America finding out he was adopted. OMG Al, how could you not know?!

OH BOY! I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU!!!

This was simply amazing! Awesome³!!!

I particularly cracked up at cockblocked Turkey.

Here, have my eternal love, anon! ♥

*raises hand* another anon who isn't fond of Mpreg AT ALL!

You, my dear writer-anon, deserve multi-colored internets.
I was laughing like mad at this. Oh god, Denmark, WTF?
And Al's reaction. And Turkey. jsjkhdsajg

Internet. It's srs bsns, indeed.

I love you :')

Personally, this anon loves Mpreg and finds it hilarious.
But having a nation find out that Mpreg is NOT ACTUALLY POSSIBLE makes this fic even more fantastic!
Anon especially loves the little hints of relationships between Turkey/Greece and France/England. XDDDD Thank you so much author!anon! You're brill.

Good, I'm glad you weren't offended XD I'm not a fan but I don't mean to insult anyone. Neither does Denmark, I'm sure.

Anon especially loves the little hints of relationships between Turkey/Greece and France/England.

G-good, because author!anon is a giant faggot for Turkey/Greece :D

Love mpreg, found this hilarious. ♥ dork!Denmark was cute!

Oh my god this was SO brilliant. <3 I loved reading this sooooo much. Den/Nor FTW.

I've never really read mpregs, and it doesn't really make sense to me, but I could TOTALLY see Denmark buying into Nor being pregnant. XD I loved his argument about Al and Canada fffff this fill was so win. The request was win too!

This. Is. AWESOME. Just so much quotable awesomeness I'm almost falling over.


Norway stood up as well, patting Denmark on the back. "Thank you. As you can see, Denmark is also in support of Proposal Number 112 so that essentially means that I'm pregnant." Norway paused, then whirled on Denmark. "I'M WHAT?"

Oh so VERY Norway.

OP Anon forgot that they already reviewed.

As someone who hates m-preg *thumbs up* seriously this was great.

ps my head cannon says that Denmark's an idiot.

Here's another fill for you anon! America/Lithuania this time.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Lithuania said weakly.

“It’s no troub—” America broke off as Lithuania started throwing up again, his shoulders shaking as his vomit splattered against the porcelain. He was standing behind the smaller nation, holding Lithuania’s hair back from his face while he turned his stomach inside out.

America had been woken up this morning by Lithuania trying to subtly sneak out of the bed towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. Now, it had gone on so long he was genuinely concerned.

The sound of vomiting finally slowed, and Lithuania was left coughing and groaning.

America rubbed Lithuania’s back comfortingly, while Lithuania panted to get his breath back. “Better?”

Lithuania pulled back from the toilet, his face still green and shaky. He nodded faintly. America smiled and kissed the back of his head. He reached over and grabbed a handful of paper towels to wipe a pinkish smear from the side of his mouth.

“Sorry,” Lithuania murmured faintly, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t know…”

“It’s fine,” America said exasperatedly. He reached over to the sink and creatively managed to fill up a glass of water with one hand.

Lithuania took the glass from America gratefully, swilling it around his mouth, before spitting into the toilet. He groaned again. “Uh, I don’t know why, I just feel terrible this morning. My back hurts, my head is killing me.”

“Hm.” America turned him around and pressed his lips to Lithuania’s forehead. “You’re a little warm.”

“I’ve just been throwing up.”

“Yeah.”

He reached over to the toilet to flush the mess away. As he did, Lithuania tried to stifle a massive yawn behind his hand.

“You should get to bed.”

America expected Lithuania to argue, like he usually did when he was sick, but instead Lithuania just nodded tiredly. Leaning against America, he stood and let himself be guided out of the bathroom. As soon as he got to the bed, he lay down and curled over onto his side, back to America. His hands were pressed tightly over his stomach.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“No problem,” America said, glad that Lithuania couldn’t see his concerned frown. He placed a hand on Lithuania’s hip and gave it a little squeeze. Lithuania didn’t respond, seemingly already asleep.

America watched him for a few moments with the same worried frown. He backed out of the room, then made his way downstairs. Making up his mind, he hurried over to the computer. He clacked the space bar until the screen became bright again, then quickly fired up Google.

After a few thoughtful moments, he typed in, ‘symptoms nausea headaches back pain exhaustion,’ and pressed SEARCH.

He clicked on the first result and started to read through it.

He was halfway through the page when his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. Ohnononononononono…

Something was up with America.

It didn’t take a genius to notice it, England thought. America had been quiet throughout the entire meeting, just staring at the table, tapping a pen slowly on his notebook, looking up in surprise whenever anyone addressed him.

Once the meeting was over, he walked over to America and leaned nonchalantly against the table. When America didn’t react, he gave a little cough.

America looked up from the briefcase he had been attempting to shove a folder into sideways. “Uh, hi, Arthur.”

“Hello.” He paused and cocked his head at what he imagined was a concerned angle. “Is anything wrong?”

America blinked. “Um, uh, no?”

England stared at him blankly for a moment. Eventually, the look did its work and America sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“I need some advice, Arthur,” he said from behind his hands.

England looked up quickly around the room. It was empty except for Italy dawdling by the door. He looked back down at America. “Certainly. What’s bothering you?”

America sighed again and dropped his hands onto the table. “Arthur, you know Toris?”

“That Baltic kid you’ve been shacking up with?”

America tried to give him a glare, but couldn’t manage it. “I…” he began hesitantly. He swallowed and then said in one big rush, “I think I got Toris pregnant.”

England’s brain took a few long, hard moments to process that.

Then another few.

Then some more.

“Erm,” he said finally. “Is this Toris as in Lithuania we’re talking about?”

America nodded.

“The Lithuania in between Poland and Russia, not some other Lithuania I haven’t heard about?”

“No,” America said miserably. “I’m talking about my Lithuania, Toris. I think he’s pregnant. I don’t know if he knows yet, but he’s getting really sick all of the time, and, and… And I don’t know what to do.”

England blinked.

Well.

“Alfred,” he said gently. “Do you know how pregnancy works?”

America shook his head. “No, of course not! That’s why I’m so worried. I don’t want to hurt the baby or anything. I just… I…”

England drew in a deep, long-suffering internal sigh as he opened his mouth to explain to America just why it was impossible for Lithuania to be in a family way.

What are you doing? Are you mad? Look at what you’ve been handed!

England shut his mouth abruptly, listening closely to the evil voice whispering inside of his skull.

America’s been causing problems for you for years, parading around the world like he’s the only country that really matters. Now, he’s handed you an opportunity to show the whole world what an idiot he really is.

England loved the evil voice.

“Well, Alfred,” he began, trying to control the insane giggling that was welling up in his chest, “the first thing you’ve got to do, if you really have put young Toris in a fix, is to be an adult about it. It’s your responsibility, after all.”

America’s serious nod as he straightened his posture and listened intently was priceless. England was making a herculean effort not to burst out laughing. He continued, “I’d wait for the boy to come out with it himself, if I were you. No use pressuring him. My advice, just be patient and take good care of him.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “It’ll be a long, hard slog, but you’ve got to,” don’t laugh! “take it like a man</i>.”

America nodded slowly again. “You’re right, Arthur.” He broke into a grin. “I’m gonna be a man!” England stumbled as America jumped up and pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks, Arthur. I feel a lot better now!” He pulled back and looked at him in slow wonder. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

Oh , for the love of all things good and decent. England was beginning to wonder if this was passing the border from funny to sad. He thought about America’s past actions for a few moments, and decided that it was still hilarious.

“Indeed,” England agreed.

America still looked deliriously cheerful. “Wow. I gotta get home. I wanna meet Toris there!” He hugged England again. When he moved away, his glasses were hanging widely askew. “Bye!”

He finished gathering up his papers and ran out of the room. England stood in stunned silence. He dropped into the nearest chair, shaking his head slowly.

Sad or not, he decided, France has to hear about this.

Lithuania’s back kept hurting him all day. As soon as he got back home, he curled up on the sofa and started watching a stack of America’s movies.

He glanced up as he heard the front door open.

“Toris?”

“In here, Alfred,” Lithuania said in a croaky voice.

Lithuania heard a crinkle of plastic bags and footsteps, then felt America lean over the couch, brush some hair off his forehead, and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Feeling better?” America asked.

“Much,” Lithuania said automatically.

“Did you throw up again?”

“…Once,” he admitted quietly. “But only in the morning, right after I got there.”

Alfred paused for a long moment. “I’d rather you stayed home tomorrow.”

“I’m really fine, Alfred. And the back’s barely bothering me at all.”

There was another awkward pause. Lithuania could feel America forcibly shifting the topic. “I brought food.”

“Oh, thank you,” Lithuania said cheerily. “I’m starved.”

America walked around the couch and sat down on the couch next to him. Lithuania propped himself up on the elbows as he waited for America. He reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a greasy paper bag, and then two burgers. He passed them to Lithuania.

“Thank you,” Lithuania repeated. “But… it’s quite a lot, isn’t it?”

America shrugged, grinning. “Nothing’s too good for my bab— for you.”

Lithuania smiled and took the burgers. America took the opportunity to wrap his fingers around Lithuania’s and slide him closer. He wrapped one arm around Lithuania’s shoulders and with the other pressed his hand gently to Lithuania’s stomach.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said quietly.

Lithuania looked over at America curiously. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sure it will blow over in a few days.”

“Yeah…” America drifted off awkwardly. Before Lithuania could probe further, America added quickly, “Eat up.”

Still a bit confused, Lithuania complied and began to unwrap his first hamburger.

America continued to slowly rub his belly in little circles.

When Lithuania saw Belgium glancing at him as she whispered with Switzerland behind her hand, it was the last straw. Shuffling his papers in irritation, he stood up from his chair, glad to be out of the long, dull EU meeting.

The other had been acting strangely throughout the entire two-hour meeting. They kept whispering to each other and snickering, breaking off whenever they realized Lithuania was watching.

His lower back twinged painfully as he bent to grab his briefcase. He really wanted this bank scandal to be over soon. The actual discovery and political fallout was mostly done with, but Lithuania was still reeling from the aftermath.

He wanted to be at home, with Alfred, who had been doting on him more than usual lately. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but the attention was certainly nice.

Lithuania’s good mood instantly soured as he looked up and happened to see Spain snickering as he talked with France. The other nation stopped and tried to force a straight face when he noticed Lithuania looking.

“Hi, Toris,” Spain said shakily. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Lithuania answered, nonplussed. Did he really look bad enough that the others were noticing? Maybe Alfred’s right, I do need some time off.

“Good.” Spain burst out in poorly hidden giggles.

“Is something wrong?” Lithuania asked, forcing his tone to remain cordial and polite.

“No, nothing,” France said, remaining much more composed than his friend. “You simply look a little… tired.”

Lithuania blinked. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “A little trouble with the banks,” my, if I’m not excellent at understatement, “but, I’m sure it’ll run its course soon.”

Spain seemed to think this was the funniest thing he had ever heard. He had to grab hold of France’s coat to stop from falling over.

Lithuania shifted around uncomfortably, feeling a steady ache starting to build at his temples. “I, uh, should be getting home.”

“Oh,” said France, composing himself again. Lithuania’s heard dropped as he saw Prussia drifting towards them. I’m never going to get out of here. “Home… to Alfred?”

Lithuania nodded. He took a small step backwards and half-turned towards the door.

“Be safe!” Prussia yelled. He, Spain, and France all burst out laughing.

“Yeah,” Spain added breathlessly. “Just say no!”

While Lithuania watched in confusion, the trio clung to each other in convulsions of laughter. Cautiously, he finished turning and walked calmly out of the door, before breaking into a jog.

God, those guys were weird.

“How was your day?”

America shrugged. “Can’t complain. You?”

Lithuania thought about going into some of the other nations’ strange behavior, but decided to leave it. “Good.” He handed America a gallon of milk to put in the fridge, then went back to unpacking the rest of the groceries.

“Not sick at all?”

He sighed. “I was feeling a bit dizzy around lunch. I think you’re right; I will stay home tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s not like I’m making some grand sacrifice.” He yawned. Damn if this financial flu wasn’t making him tired. Fortunately, now that he was at home there was some remedy for it. He reached up to the top cabinet and pulled out a glass and bottle.

Still busying himself in the fridge, America countered, “No, I know you. Toris the martyr, suffering in silence. Taking a day off for you is like working on Christmas for everyone else.”

Lithuania snorted, unscrewing the cap of the whiskey bottle. “I am not.” He poured a tiny amount into the glass.

“Oh, yes you are,” America retorted. He turned around just as Lithuania was raising the glasses to his lips.

Lithuania wasn’t sure how it happened. Suddenly, America had snatched the glass away with a cry of, “Toris, don’t!” and dumping the whiskey out into the sink.

“Alfred!” Lithuania protested.

“Don’t, it’ll hurt the—” America broke off, his cheeks flashing bright red.

“What’ll it hurt?” Toris pressed.

America turned away, setting the glass and whiskey bottle far from Lithuania. “Nothing.”

Lithuania was fed up with being confused today. “Alfred, please tell me it is you’re talking about.”

America chewed his lower lip.

“Alfred?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t realized it yet,” he burst out.

“Huh?”

“Are you saying you really don’t know?”

Lithuania sighed. “No, Alfred. I really don’t know.”

America just looked at him for a moment, his expression filled with empathy. He placed a hand on Lithuania’s shoulder. “Toris, I think…” He swallowed. “I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant.”

…What?

“Um, Alfred…?” Lithuania began, pulling back slightly from America.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” America continued.

“No… I haven’t. Alfred, you do know—”

“I know that this is probably gonna be tough. And, I’m kinda scared too. But,” he held Lithuania’s hands in his own, “I’m here for you Toris.”

“Alfred, I’m not pregnant,” Lithuania said flatly.

“Toris, please—”

“Alfred,” Toris interrupted, voice cracking with exasperation. “I’m a man.”

America blinked. “I know.”

“Men can’t get pregnant.”

America shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I saw this one thing on Oprah—”

“I'm not pregnant!” Lithuania said more insistently

America looked unconvinced.

Lithuania sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was well aware of America’s casual relationship with science over the years, but this was a new low.

“But,” America began, “what about the headaches and your back hurting and the puking and—”

“It’s a banking issue,” Lithuania insisted. “A cold. It happens all the time. This one was just a little worse than usual.”

America paused, mouth open, breathing slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Alfred, I don’t have a uterus!” Lithuania exclaimed.

“A what?”

The longest of long-suffering sighs forced itself out of Lithuania’s chest. “A womb, Alfred. Where the baby gestates. I haven’t got one, therefore, no baby. Understand?”

America looked like a scolded child. He looked up at Lithuania over his glasses. “I guess that makes sense he mumbled.

“Didn’t Arthur ever talk to you about this stuff?” Lithuania said tiredly.

America shook his head.

Lithuania decided that another sigh would be excessive. “It’s been a long day, Alfred. I’m just going to go to bed, and we can talk about this later.” He paused, and then said again for good measure. “I’m not pregnant.”

“I know,” America said, a bit defensively. He was silent for a moment, then glanced over at him with the faintest of hopeful glimmers in his blue eyes.

“Not. Pregnant.”

“Okay!” America chanced the faintest of smiles. “You should eat something, though.”

“All right, Alfred,” Lithuania said in a softer voice. “We could just heat up those burgers from yesterday. Maybe watch a movie?”

“No pickles and ice cream?”

Lithuania hoped that his glare spoke louder than words. America broke into a full grin.

America woke up face down, mouth open, and pillow caked in drool. Slowly, he groaned and dragged himself up to a sitting position. The other side of the bed was empty, Lithuania having apparently already woken up.

Not pregnant.

America had trouble quantifying the bizarre mix of embarrassment, relief, and disappointment that was fermenting in his stomach.

As he reached up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, his hand knocked against something on the pillow next to him. He picked it up, at the same time as he awkwardly found his glasses and pulled them on.

It was a large, flat book, with the words You and Your Body printed across the front, along with cartoons of little men and women in their underwear smiling. The book was for his education, America realized, an effort by Lithuania to clear up his knowledge of biology.

He felt a little talked-down to, but curiosity compelled him to hesitantly crack open the book and glance inside.

Oh sweet lord in heaven! Why?


Lithuania leaned over the oven, scrubbing determinedly at a strange, brownish stain on the stovetop. He had already done his morning puking, and he needed to have something to do, as long as his back wasn’t bothering him.

Maybe there was a reason America thought he was pregnant.

Lithuania stopped scrubbing and sighed again. He still couldn’t get over America’s misunderstanding. On the one hand, it was borderline laughable. On the other, America had seemed really upset when he found out that Lithuania wasn’t expecting.

In a weird way, it was somehow sweet to think that America was ready to stick by him even with a bun in his nonexistent oven.

Lithuania smiled quietly to himself as he went back to scrubbing at the stain.

What in the hell is that?

He leaned all of his weight against the sponge and rubbed as hard as he could. After a few moments of going at it, he heard America stumble and clatter downstairs. He looked up to see the other country walk inside on uneven feet, still dressed in a dirty white shirt and boxers.

“Good morning,” Lithuania said cheerfully, putting down the sponge and leaning against the stove.

“Mornin’,” America mumbled. He walked over to Lithuania and threw a hand over the smaller country’s shoulder. “I read the book,” he mumbled.

“And?” Lithuania pressed politely.

“You’re not pregnant.”

“Thank you.”

America kissed the back of his head. “The body is a disgusting, disgusting thing.”

Lithuania nodded. “That it is,” he agreed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I think it’s almost run its course.”

America leaned his chin against Lithuania’s head and slowly rocked back and forth. For a moment, Lithuania almost thought that he had fallen asleep, when he said, “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It’s all right. You’ll probably be the one who get’s most embarrassed.” He didn’t think that America was capable of feeling embarrassment like another nation, but he expected that England would use it as an opportunity to give him all sorts of hell. “And, thank you for being so concerned about me. Even if I'm not… you know.”

“Hm,” America said with a little chuckle. He slid his arms around Lithuania’s skinny waist and kissed his ear. “You know,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind you being pregnant.”

Lithuania placed his hands over America’s on top of his stomach. “I know you wouldn’t, Alfred.”

“Toris?”

“Yes?”

America paused for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re not, though.”

“You and me both.”

Lithuania managed to hold a straight face for a few seconds, then they both burst out laughing.

Oh, Alfred, why is your stupid so adorable?! ...And I totally want to see Daddy!America now. (Where he gets all geared up for a little boy with like, baseball stuff and then it's a girl and he's all "...BASEBALL ANYWAYS")

And mean Arthur, clearly some of that was your fault for not teaching him properly!

_{Captcha: defiled with. Defiled with what?!}

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

That was one of the sweetest Amerithuania fics I've ever read! I love their interaction (and the Bad Touch Trio was a great add). YOU ROCK ANON