Chapter Text
“Hey.”
Mikkel sighs when someone slips into the chair opposite him.
Here we go again, he thinks to himself, prepared to just buy the rest of his drinks in one go and speedrun the rest of the way to blissful oblivion. As usual, nothing goes his way, even when all he wants is to be left alone to drink himself to death. He looks up at the guy to tell him to fuck off, only to meet his gaze and he instantly realises he could get lost in those deep blue eyes forever.
Okay, fine, maybe he’ll give this a go. He could always just drink himself unconscious if he wanted out.
“Hello,” he finally replies, and the guy grins at him, for seemingly no reason.
“My name’s Matthias. Yours?”
“Mikkel.”
“Cool. I’ll buy you a drink, even though you already owe me one, because when I saw you, I dropped mine.”
Mikkel looks up incredulously at the terrible pickup line. “Are you drunk?”
“Are you not?” Matthias replies, grin never leaving his face despite his failure to amuse, let alone impress his target. “So, what brings a pretty face like you to a place like this?”
This guy is delusional. Drunk. Lying. Probably all of the above. He’s never been called pretty in his life.
“Trying to get drunk enough that I forget this conversation happened.”
Matthias laughs, and orders another round of beer for the two of them. He turns back to his disinterested companion, still looking annoyingly happy. That smile. Mikkel has seen it before, on the faces of his brothers, and he doesn’t trust it. Matthias reminds him of Loki and Bernard, always cheerful, seemingly kind, friendly…
Bernard was sweet but would use that to manipulate you. Loki was at least honest, but downright insane. Everyone they meet loves his brothers though, and nobody would ever believe him if he told them, and he has nobody to tell anyway.
And Mikkel was forced to look after Loki and Bernard growing up, having never wanted them in his care, but there was absolutely nobody else who’d provide for them and he couldn’t bring himself to let them starve. There was a time he’d cared about them, loved them even, thought of them as a family.
But there had been one too many betrayals. One too many accidents, one from which they all still bore the scars. The countless times he had to save them (mostly from themselves) took their toll, and at some point he had to turn off his heart and stop caring, because he was so stressed out and he was going to break and then what would happen to all of them?
“You’re cute,” Matthias interrupts his thoughts.
“And you’re wrong,” Mikkel retorts.
As the night goes on, he finds himself opening up to this stranger, and he hates it. He’s probably just like Bernard. He’s just being nice because he wants something, and afterwards he’s going to hurt him. But then he’s too drunk to care, and then he’s waking up in an unfamiliar room.
“What the fuck,” he asks the ceiling.
An unfortunately familiar face appears in his field of vision. Oh god, he’s still smiling.
“Matthias?”
“Good morning! I’m honestly surprised you remember my name! Do you like pancakes?”
What. What is he doing here. Why is he in Matthias’s home. Pancakes?
They turn out to be pretty good pancakes. After splashing copious amounts of cold water on his face in a vain attempt to cure the pounding headache, he finds himself at the table with a cup of black coffee, listening to Matthias talk about his Canadian friend who apparently taught him this recipe.
“Matthias. Thanks for the food, but how did I get here?”
“Well, we got pretty sloshed, and I didn’t know where you lived, so…”
Mikkel regards him suspiciously. He’s too sober to deal with this.
“I didn’t need your help.”
“Sorry for not just leaving you to die in the streets,” Matthias replies, the smile starting to slip away from his face.
Mikkel swallows the venomous words on his tongue and chases them with a sip of coffee. He has good reason to be defensive, but he probably also shouldn’t openly antagonise him in his own home.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just… nobody’s ever done this for me before.”
Matthias isn’t smiling anymore.
“Let me guess, you’re the oldest in your family.”
“What- how did you-”
“You said something about your brothers.”
“Oh god. How much did I tell you?”
Matthias stares at him blankly, as if he’s mildly offended that he’d been asked to recall a piece of information he encountered while heavily intoxicated.
“I have no idea. But they sound pretty messed up. ”
Mikkel buries his face in his hands. God, can he really not talk to another person without mentioning his family issues? He hates how much control they have over him even when they aren’t there.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but honestly this makes me want to never be sober again.”
At this, Matthias laughs out loud and somehow, it just feels right, to see those brilliant blue eyes light up again, to be the one to make him smile. He’s interested now, but too scared to trust him, and far too proud to admit that he was scared, scarred, broken. So he excuses himself, because after all, they both have nations to run, but not before they exchange numbers, a hug (that Matthias forces upon him) and a promise to “hang out sometime,” Matthias’s words, not his.
Weeks later, Mikkel is about to suck up his pride and call him out of loneliness when Matthias beats him to it and invites him over for drinks because he had a bad day.
There’s a chance they both have a drinking problem, but whatever, it’s not like either of them can die. That’s the night they find themselves making out on the couch, waking up in each other’s arms late in the morning.
“Morning,” Matthias greets him softly.
“I, uh-”
Matthias shuts him up with a kiss on the lips. It’s another twenty minutes before Mikkel untangles himself to get up and make coffee. This time, they head out to a cafe for brunch. The cool summer air is refreshing, tinged with salt, and Mikkel pretends to listen to everything his date- this was a date now, right?- is saying. He could be talking about something as mundane as the weather and he wouldn’t care, too busy considering that Matthias’s eyes are the same colour as the sky. It’s early afternoon when they pay for their food and leave, and they spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the streets of Copenhagen. Matthias offers to show him the beach, and when he takes his hand, slipping calloused fingers in between his own, his heart aches.
It’s been so long since his heart had feeling, and it’s never felt so good.
He would’ve liked to stay and watch the sunset over Oresund, but that wouldn’t be for another five hours, and he doesn’t trust Loki to not burn the house down, literally, so he excuses himself, but not before they exchange a hug (that Mikkel hangs on to for too long) and a promise to meet again soon.
“Where were you last night?” Bernard asks, a smug knowing undertone in his voice. Mikkel stiffens but ignores him, wordlessly letting himself into the kitchen, where Loki is toasting marshmallows over the open stovetop fire. Toasting, in the sense that he’s lighting them on fire, leaving them covered in a black charcoal crust, and then happily eating them anyway. Mikkel turns off the burner and drags him out of the kitchen.
“Was it a date?” Loki chimes in, mouth still full of probably the most carcinogenic thing he could be putting in his body.
Mikkel briefly considers calling Matthias and asking to move in then and there.
He couldn’t leave his brothers when they were young, but he doesn’t still have to be here looking after them, does he? Being with Matthias feels good. It feels right holding him in his arms, his soft hair feels right against his fingers, his hand feels right in his. He feels a tug on his heart every time he thinks of him. Still, it’s too early and he doesn’t want to get too attached. Just in case.
Just in case he’s like them, he thinks, although he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if that was the case. He’s already in so deep. He’s already opened his heart that he protected so well.
Months pass, and he constantly expects Matthias to betray him or hurt him, but the blow never comes. He slowly realises as their relationship develops that unlike his “friends,” this man loves him and means it. His heart isn’t so numb anymore. The days start looking a little brighter, even as the summer gives way to the red tones of autumn and the first snows of winter.
And the more in love he falls, the more trouble is brewing. Mikkel nurses a cup of coffee, sitting alone on the verandah of the house they share, overlooking the frozen lake.
Matthias is… interesting. Optimistic, annoying but kind, genuinely happy. Mikkel can’t shake the lingering feeling he might not be around for too long, because he’s just too good for this world. A beautiful creature, but everything Mikkel touches seems to break, and he doesn’t want to break him. He knows Matthias couldn’t lie to him or hurt him if he tried, but life has a way of tearing love apart.
Besides, Matthias’ brothers bother him almost as much as his own do. Lukas is a strange character, so mysterious, seemingly contemptuous and always hanging around Matthias. It bothers him how well they know each other, probably from being married for several centuries. And every time he sees Berwald his vision clouds over with rage, knowing this man had hurt his darling, even personally marching across a frozen strait to do so.
Matthias emerges from the kitchen with a plate of fresh pastries and settles down with him to watch the snow. Mikkel pulls him into his lap. The jam filled desserts are hot and sweet in his mouth, much like the one who made them. Matthias relaxes in his arms, playing with his hair that’s a bit longer than his own, and Mikkel looks out into the white sky.
It’s simple. If life tears them apart, he’s just going to go and get Matthias back, no matter the cost. He’s not going to let his angel go. Ever.