1Sweden's eyes skimmed over the room. The rythmic pat-pat of his fingers on the table was probably the most interesting thing coming out of this meeting. Sweden had stopped counting the number of nations getting in a fight around the large table. Next to him, Iceland had given up on the meeting as well, headphones in and phone in his hands. He glanced at the screen and quickly regretted it. Iceland's music tastes were definitely not something he understood, but considering who his brother was, Sweden didn't question it. Talking about his brother, Norway was actively strangling Denmark, holding him back from jumping to the help of his good friend Netherlands, being scolded by his siblings for something Sweden didn't care to know.
The sound of a meowing cat attracted Sweden's attention to the other side of the room. Greece and the Ottoman… - no, Turkey, Sweden corrected himself - Greece and Turkey were arguing loudly, even though they weren't quite loud enough to be heard over Germany's desperate attempts to get the meeting back on track.
Sweden's eyes stopped on a nation between Greece and Turkey. He felt somewhat familiar, but Sweden couldn't recognize him. His nametag identified him as Egypt and Sweden mentally nodded. He hadn't seen him for maybe half a century, and certainly never spoken to him, but he seemed like a calm person, a very enjoyable person in these circumstances. Plus, he was petting a cat, which was always a nice bonus.
Egypt looked up and he noticed Sweden looking at him. Embarrassed of being caught staring, Sweden blushed, which made Estonia - sitting on his other side - flinch and scoot away a little. Egypt's bored eyes moved to Denmark and Norway and he nodded in understanding. Sweden nearly smiled.
Half an hour later, when it became obvious that Germany would start crying if they didn't calm down, they called off the meeting for the day. This time, the meeting was held in Morroco and the nations ran off the minute they could to the beach, barely two streets away. Most of them had their swimming suit under their meeting clothes and by the time the Nordics reached the beach, covered in sunscreen and holding umbrellas Finland had been smart enough to bring for them all despite Iceland's loud protests of "my swag will protect me" (Norway said it was a phase, and Sweden had never prayed so much for Norway to be right), half of the nations were playing in the blue water. The other half was setting up barbecues, picnic tables and beach towels. The moment Norway let go of Denmark's tie, he was in the water, splashing Belgium and Taiwan.
"I'm gonna go find Hong and Sey," Iceland muttered, scurrying away before Norway could stop him.
"Mr Nor, can you come help me?" Finland called.
He had apparently fallen in a hole someone had dug earlier. It was too warm for Sweden to deal with this, and Norway would do just fine on his own.
Something fluffy touched Sweden's legs. He looked down to find Egypt cat rubbing itself against Sweden's legs. Sweden picked it up.
"Hey there, where's your owner?" he meant to said, though it probably came out a little differently. Sweden was not very good at speaking cat, or any language that was not Swedish, for that matter.
"I believe that's my cat," a voice said.
Sweden turned around. Egypt was standing behind him. His clothes looked far more adapted to the weather than Sweden's. It was most likely due to the experience. Sweden's experience with heat stopped at saunas and it didn't help to know how to dress.
"Sorry," he muttered, putting the cat down.
Egypt shook his head.
"She likes being petted."
He grabbed a bag of chips in the basket he carried.
"Do you want any? These are Turkey's, he won't notice."
Sweden and Egypt sat on the warm sand, eating quietly, looking at the nations running around, playing in the water and burning sausages, for some. Very few words were exchanged, it wasn't needed. Being with Egypt felt nice. The silence felt comfortable, there was no need for useless conversations, they just knew.
Sweden closed his eyes, enjoying the sand between his toes and the taste of Greece's sandwiches. The peace was broken by a loud shout. Two, actually.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BROTHER?!" Both Turkey and Denmark yelled.
Sweden opened his eyes. Dripping from head to toes, both nations were running towards them, sending sand on nearby towels, much to the annoyance of their owners.
"DON'T YOU DARE RUIN EGYPT'S INNOCENCE WITH YOUR MESSED UP NORDIC TRADITIONS!" Turkey screamed.
"Hey!" Iceland complained, sitting a few meters away with Hong Kong, Seychelles and Norway.
"Not you, of course," Turkey said with an affable smile.
"Yeah, that's better."
"Hold on, hold on," Denmark said, frowning. "Sweden isn't going to do anything to Egypt. I'm more worried about your crazy southerner cults!"
"Cults?" Turkey scoffed. "You mean skull worships and other demonic things that you nordics - not you kiddo - like to do?"
"I've been to Egypt's house before! I don't want my little brother to end up locked up in one of his weird triangle jails!"
Sweden nearly facepalmed. Sometimes, he wondered if Denmark's lack of culture was done on purpose.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Norway and Iceland sitting up, looking interested. Things were never good when these two looked interested.
The argument seemed to escalate between Denmark and Turkey and their accusation made less and less sense.
"EGYPT IS TOO YOUNG!"
"SWEDEN MIGHT NOT LOOK LIKE IT BUT HE'S ONLY A THOUSAND YEARS OLD, HE'S A BABY AND I WON'T LET YOU CORRUPT HIM!"
Turkey let out an offended gasp.
"How dare you?!"
The first punch was frankly expected. Turkey grabbed Denmark under his arm, trying to pin him down. Denmark caught his head and threw him over his shoulder. His victorious laugh died in his throat as Turkey's leg hit the back of his knees and he fell face first in the sand. He got up on his elbows, spitting out sand and even a seashell.
Denmark and Turkey started wrestling on the sand, shouting insults in every language they knew, attracting the attention of every nation around who started cheering, only giving more motivation to the two idiots rolling on the sand. Denmark's skin was getting a little red and Sweden was certain that he would come home with several sunburns.
Wordlessly, Egypt offered Sweden another sandwich. Denmark's head was stuck under Turkey's knee, but Turkey's neck was held by Denmark's leg, and he was starting to turn blue. Sweden glanced at Iceland who looked like he was having more fun than he had had in years, filming the whole thing. Sweden was glad that he hadn't been the one raising him, because if that was how he treated his father figures, Sweden didn't want to be one of them.
When he looked back at Denmark and Turkey, their position had dramatically changed. Denmark's cheek was stuck against Turkey chest and he was following the line of his abs with the tip of his finger, nodding with a very serious face.
"That's a nice bod you've got here," Denmark said, looking appreciative.
"Thanks, you're not too bad yourself."
"Aren't I?" Denmark replied, wiggling his eyebrows. He flexed his arm.
"See that?" he asked, as Turkey pressed on the bump of his biceps with the same look of respect on his face.
"I see."
"Wii Sport Resort."
Turkey nodded and rose his leg.
"Feel that calf. That's Wii Fit."
They high-fived. Behind them, the little Cyprus and Sealand started at them, looking somewhere between confused and horrified.
Both men got up, showing up some more muscle no one else cared about. The crowd of nation diminished by a good half, the fight finished.
"Wait a second," Turkey said to Denmark. "It can look even better. Egypt?"
Sighing quietly, Egypt grabbed a bottle in the basket and threw it at Turkey who opened it, showing the inside to Denmark.
"Oh, yes," the latter whispered.
He took the bottle, emptying it with a reverence close to worship on Turkey's head, chest and back.
"Yes, yes, yes. That looks gooood."
Turkey flexed proudly in every possible position, Denmark nearly drooling, kneeling next to him.
"Norway- Norway, can you see that? That's what a real man looks like."
Norway didn't even bother to reply, he just quietly handed a bill to a triumphant-looking Iceland.
A/N : Thanks for reading! Author's first language is not English, so pointing out mistakes (and possibly explain why they're a mistake) help me progress. Hope you enjoyed whatever this is, I had a lot of fun writing it even if it turned out a lot less gay than I expected.