Home Sweet Home (request: Missplayer)

Fandom: Hetalia
Shipping: N/A
Word Count: 605
Warnings: N/A

* * *

He was already starting to regret his decision to bring the young country into his home.

Turkey sighed, dropping to one knee and trying to lift the couch with both hands. “Come on, get out from under there already!” he growled, losing patience fast. His muscles strained, but the couch was too heavy. He soon lost his grip on it, and it crashed back down.

The long haired child squirmed out from under the couch. Stared intently at the Turkish man. Stuck his tongue out at him. Ducked back under before Turkey could grab him.

“Get out here!” Turkey ordered again, angrily.

The reply was muffled from the bottom of the couch. “No.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I don’t want to.”

He tried to lift the couch again, but in vain. He sighed once more to show his annoyance; not that the kid seemed to care. “I’m not going to help you if you get stuck.”

Greece squirmed out again, glaring at the taller man. “I won’t get stuck. I’ve climbed into tight spaces a thousand times before, and I can always climb out.”

He threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, suit yourself.” Standing, he walked out of the living room and went to the kitchen. He returned a short time later, carrying a plate with a simple sandwich. He sat and placed the plate near the couch. “Hey, kid.”

Green eyes glared at him from under the couch. “What do you want?”

“You should really be nicer to the guy that brought you food,” he remarked.

Silence. Then, “Food?”

“Yup. I made you a sandwich.”

The boy was quiet for a moment longer before asking cautiously, “What kind of sandwich?”

“Tuna. You like cats, right? And cats like tuna.” An arm shot out, reaching for the sandwich, but Turkey quickly pulled back the plate. “Nope. You have to come out if you want the sandwich.”

The glare returned. “I hate you.”

“You have to come out to get the sandwich,” he repeated, voice teasing now.

There was another break of silence, then Greece’s upper half squirmed free of the couch. He struggled to free himself, then stopped suddenly. “… Uh oh.”

“What? You’re not stuck, are you?”

The young boy glared at him. “No, of course not.” He struggled to get free, but stopped again, no more free than before.

Turkey laughed. “You are stuck, aren’t you?”

“No!”

Still chuckling, Turkey reached over and grabbed the boy by the hand. He gave him a tug.

“Ow.”

His smirk faded. “Geez, you’re wedged in pretty tight.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. You’re totally stuck.” Standing again, he grabbed one edge of the couch. “Scoot backwards under the couch so you don’t get squashed.”

“I can handle the weight of a couch, stupid,” Greece retorted, but even so he disappeared from view.

Turkey leaned his weight against the couch and tilted it backwards, just like how he had before. “Try to get out now,” he grunted.

Greece obeyed, looking unhappy as he scrambled out. Turkey dropped the couch. Before he could recover from the weight he had previously held, Greece dashed forward and grabbed the sandwich. He moved so fast that Turkey had only time to yelp before the young country was gone.

He groaned. “Now where did the little brat get off to…?”