That's Dancing? Denmark X Reader

       "Yo, send down another drink for my lady friend. Her glass is empty, her glass should never be empty!" Denmark banged his fist on the club's counter top, trying to get the bartender's attention. "Did you not hear me man, a drink."

"I can hear you just fine Denmark, now calm down." A sour faced Norway once again filled your cup to the brim with your favorite drink. Leaning across the bar, he whispered a warning in your ear. "You should really keep an eye on him. He can get a little hard to handle when he gets drunk. Trust me, I know."

Unhappy with the warning Norway had just given you, Denmark thew an almost full glass of alcohol over the bar, straight at Norway. His aim, however was terribly impaired due to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, meaning the glass came nowhere near to hitting Norway. "Who are you calling hard to handle? I'll show you hard to handle! Now  hurry up and get me another drink, mine's gone." Denmark, who had just been fuming at Norway, turned around in his seat and looked at you with a wide, messy looking grin on his face. "Actually, I think I have a much better idea. What do you say, you and I do a little dancing?" He wiggled his eyebrows at you and without waiting for your answer, took your hand in his.

You felt rather bad for what he was putting Norway through, so getting Denmark away from him for a little while sounded like a good idea to you. After a second or two of thought, you nodded and smiled. "Sure, that would be fine. I'm going to warn you now, though, I have two left feet, so you're probably going to get stepped on."

"I thought you might agree. And don't worry, I can handle your feet." Wasting no time, he rushed you out to the dance floor and began dancing, that is, if you wanted to call it that.  It looked more like a strange kind of demonic ritual. He was flailing his arms in every direction while thrusting his hips in your against your backside. "What's the matter? Did you not drink enough to feel the beat? Come on, get with it before I find myself a better partner." Denmark wrapped his arms tightly around your waist from behind and continued his strange form of dancing.

"Oh, I drank plenty, but I don't think any amount of alcohol would make me dance the way you do." Unable to stop yourself, you let out a little laugh. "You have a talent for dancing that I can't even begin to compare with."

"True, true." Not catching the sarcasm in your tone, he nodded. "My dancing skills are pretty awesome, you'd probably need years and years of practice to get as good as I am." He flipped you out of his arms and gave you a little twirl, pulling you back to him and kissing you on the mouth. "Still, you're not half bad, so I guess I shouldn't complain." Denmark placed another kiss on your lips and changed his speed to match the slower song. "Why are they playing such a slow song at the club? It's not seniors night is it?" Dropping his head to your shoulder, he sighed.

"It's not really that slow you know, and I think I prefer to dance with you like this anyway." You placed your head on his chest and smiled, glad for the slower, more manageable pace. "Besides, you can't tell how drunk you are this way."

"What? I'm not even..." Denmark paused his sentence, knowing you were probably right. "Okay, so maybe I am a little drunk. But I'm not that bad am I?" His brows furrowed together, giving him a slightly worried look. "I mean, is it that noticeable?"

Trying not to laugh at his question, you snuggled him tightly in your arms. "Oh yeah, you're pretty darn bad. I'm pretty sure everyone here agrees with me on that."

Without warning, or reason, he completely stopped his dancing, placed his hands on your hips and kissed the bridge of your nose. "Well, if I'm really that drunk, then I'm sure you know what that means, right?"

"I'd have to think about that. It could actually mean a few things." As if deep in thought, you pressed the tip of your forefinger to your lips and hummed. "It could mean that I'll be driving you home? You're going to have a massive hangover? Or that your dancing skills really aren't that great?"

"Well, yeah, all of that for sure. But that's not what I'm talking about."Slightly embarrassed, he brushed his fingers through his messy hair and smiled in a crooked, confused sort of way. "I'm saying that it means you'll have to stay with me, at my house, of course.” Pleased with where this was going, he nodded, agreeing with himself. “There's no telling what kind of trouble I could get into if I was home alone, drunk. It would be completely irresponsible for you to leave me home all by myself." His smile had gone from confused and innocent, to mischievous and wicked. Denmark knew you wouldn't leave him now. "Don't you think so?"

Though you really didn't mind staying the night with Denmark, you didn't want him to know that. Trying to make things seem much more dramatic than they actually were, you dropped your head to your chest and let out a long, loud sigh.  "I guess your right. Even when you're not drunk you tend to get yourself in trouble. If I were to leave you alone now, you'd probably end up arrested, or worse.” More than ready to leave the bar for tonight, you left his arms and started towards the door. “Come on, we should get you home before you go off and do something stupid, again."

Thrilled that he'd gotten his way so easily, Denmark wrapped his arms around you once more, preventing you from leaving him behind. "Good. Then it looks like you're going to be all mine tonight." No longer interested in the bar, the alcohol or dancing, he released you from his arms, took your hand in his and started out of the building. It wasn't until you were in the parking lot, ready to drive home, that he realized what you'd said to him a few moments earlier. "Wait, what did you say about my dancing skills?"