IDEK, man.

[kongeriget]

Who: potatomouth, brbmodernizing, and mythicalism later on. With surprise guest mengee!
Where: Japan's apartment.
When: Today.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Denmark finally, finally realizes he's been leading Japan on. By finding his porn stash. HOW ELSE.
the log:

Having finally recovered from his illness, Denmark was feeling kind of antsy—days spent in bed, after all, were not exactly days well spent, especially when he wanted to start building, already. But it was raining, and that just sucked. It left him feeling bored and even more restless, staring out the window and willing for the rain to clear up. If that stupid weather announcement had been accurate, that wouldn't be until tomorrow. Which to him felt about the same as saying "ten years from now."

Hanging out with Japan was the next logical choice. It would get him out of his bedroom—Denmark was kind of holding a grudge against it right now—and... well, that was about as far as he thought ahead. Plans were for lamers and Swedes anyway.

When no one answered the apartment door, he kicked it open. It didn't count as breaking an entering, since he wasn't going to steal anything, right? He'd just wait inside, on the couch.

And he did.

For five minutes.

Then Denmark was bored.

He'd been in Japan's apartment before, but not for long, and not in a while. He began to look around. Checking out the kitchen, the food supplies... using the bathroom... examining the furniture... opening cupboards... not meaning any harm, and not taking or breaking anything, just the bored curiosity of someone with very little sense of boundaries. It wasn't at all long before he stumbled upon the first of Japan's comic books—under one of the couch cushions. Although Denmark could understand and speak basic Japanese, he couldn't read a word: he flipped through it. It was something with America and England. England was blushing, America looked weirdly mature...

Although he hadn't thought about it in a while, Denmark remembered Japan having drawn a few other comics, too. Ones with him. Ones with him and Sweden. He wondered if there were any more, not really wanting to know... but there had been a couple of others, with him and Norway...

Ten minutes later found him in Japan's bedroom, flipping through another comic he'd found under the mattress. There were a few there, actually, but this one had him and Germany, and Denmark had felt the strong need to tear out the worst pages and doodle in a mustache on Germany in every other one. There were some pornographic bits, too—Denmark corrected them, too, wondering why Japan could draw that but freaked out whenever anything happened outside of books.

Once Germany was sufficiently neutered, Denmark continued the search, throwing comic books as he found them into two piles: wrong, and pretty okay. Wrong included everything with Iceland or Sweden, or him drawn with Germany or the former two; okay was pretty much everything else. He was having a good time of it, having forgotten he was breaking and entering entirely, and was planning to ask Japan if he could borrow a few of the comics—some of him and Norway, and one very nice one with Belgium and Ukraine—when he accidentally knocked over a lamp and another comic fell from where it had been hidden in the lampshade.

Unlike all the others so far, it had Japan in it.

Japan, and what looked a lot like him.

Denmark put down the Belgium/Ukraine book, grinning, picking up the lamp and then the comic. This would be a laugh for sure. He didn't think anything ill-spirited, and had never had much of a sense of self consciousness anyway—this hobby of Japan's was totally weird and sometimes creepy, but in a genial, amusing sort of way. It wasn't like there was harm in it, Denmark figured. Everyone had their weird parts. He sat down on the edge of Japan's bed and flipped it to the back, which for some reason was where Japan's comics seemed to start (it had taken him a while to realize that, but porn had a certain order to it, even he had noticed eventually).

First few pages: he and Japan were talking about something in Japanese.

Next few pages: Awesome! Comic Japan made comic him another flag lunch box!

More Japanese speaking. Japan was kind of blushing. So was he, actually—in the book. On the bed, his amused smile was starting to fade. Something here wasn't...

Now in the comic, it looked pretty serious. He wished he could read Japanese.

Now they were...

Denmark's sense of amusement was rapidly slipping away, replaced not with anger, or revulsion, or even confusion—but something worse, something he didn't have a name for. The bottom of his stomach seemed to be falling out. All he could think was, this isn't right, right?

People don't draw comics of themselves like this, unless...

He was completely engrossed in the book, and completely oblivious to any approaching footsteps.