Title: Swiss Kisses (Hetalia)

Rated: T

Genre: Romance/Humour

Pairing: Switzerland/Austria

Summary: "Suddenly Switzerland leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks – twice on the left, once on the right. "What are you doing?" Austria gasped as he withdrew. Switzerland's green eyes stared back at him. "I'm saying goodbye." Edelweiss fluff

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Oh, the madness that would ensue if I did! *cackles evilly*

I am a high-school student. I obviously am no closer to owning a country than I am of scoring above 40% in a maths test – therefore, anything related to or part of Swiss or Austrian culture mentioned here is purely for the sake of spinning a cracking good yarn :D I love that expression.

I'm amazed at the amount of APH Switzerland-centric fics that really have nothing to do with Switzerland or its culture at all. Everybody seems to focus more on his neutrality than anything else when, really, it isn't that big a deal. Heck, I lived there for six years and I'm still none the wiser about Swiss politics. So, I've decided to write this fic mainly to concentrate on aspects of the Swiss culture other than neutrality. And also, you know, to try my hand at writing romance and humour combined. I'm generally really bad at both, so don't say I didn't warn you if this turns out to be rubbish.

*in a Lorax-y voice* You have been warned!

Austria had never anticipated just how nervous he would be standing on Switzerland's doorstep. It wasn't the doorstep itself (which had enough sniper rifles lined up beside the door that, had he not been completely and utterly resigned to his fate, would have been enough to make the normally prim nation flee screaming from his neighbouring country's house). No, it was the thought of the event his boss, his Prime Minister, and almost every member of the various political parties that made up his government had organized with an almost indecent amount of supressed glee.

Austria had been tasked with staying at Switzerland's house for a day.

First off, Austria knew absolutely nothing about the nation. There had been past allegiances, of course, but both he and the almost obsessively neat, xenophobic nation had long since reached an unspoken agreement that they would never mention the event again, particularly when Liechtenstein or Hungary were around. Knowing them, they would either instantly spread the scandal, or, in Hungary's case, instantly call off all major political delegations in favour of plotting how to get Austria and Switzerland back together again. No, it was far better that those memories lay untouched.

Secondly, although Austria would never dare admit it, and was normally quick to brush aside Prussia's snide taunts about it, he was a little intimidated by Switzerland. His infamous barrier of neutrality was almost a legend among the various country personifications as well as his obsession with guns, as often reported by a hysterical Italy after being caught streaking across Ticino. Yes, neutral or not, Switzerland's reputation was still enough that Austria tended to be the tiniest bit wary whenever the blonde nation was around.

And then there was the event. Which Austria preferred not to think about, and would happily request a forgetting spell from England to blank the memory out, had he not once witnessed a particularly disastrous magic ritual of his which included a certain Norwegian as a sacrifice, several amulets, and a lot of swearing in Old English.

And yet, all of the conflicting arguments still failed to change the fact he was, on an ominously grey day in Zürich, standing outside Switzerland's house, staring wordlessly at the gun rack and trying frantically to think of a suitably watertight excuse for not ringing the bell which would satisfy every member of his immediate government.

He didn't have to worry for long though. Either Switzerland had seen him through the window or the blonde nation's sixth sense was more developed than he had thought, but Austria found the door (a lovely little one with a stained glass panel and a gold doorknocker, he noticed wildly) being yanked open from the inside, revealing the face of a very tall, very disgruntled Swiss glaring at him.

"Well? Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in? You're dirtying the front steps."

A part of Austria was secretly glad that Switzerland had opened the door first. It saved him the trouble of screwing up the nerve to touch that exquisitely clean, polished gold doorknocker. However, by the way the nation was glaring at him, the compromise didn't seem to amuse the Swiss in the slightest.

"Come in. And take your shoes off on the way in – I've just vacuumed the carpet." Switzerland's accent made his words almost unintelligible. He spoke the German words with an expression of distaste, as though he would rather not be speaking them at all, flinging the last words over his shoulder as he turned and walked back down the hallway. Which Austria noticed, judging by the state of the carpeting, had indeed only just been vacuumed.

The bright side about dealing with all this, Austria thought as he slipped off each of his shoes, was that he would at least be able to satisfy Hungary's appetite for gossip by confirming the rumours about Switzerland's almost obsessive-compulsive addiction to orderliness were true. Feeling his heart sink down to his now sock-clad feet in dread and annoyance at the Swiss nation's tone, Austria picked up his shoes.

"No, don't bring them in! They go outside, that's what the other rack is for." Switzerland was back up the corridor in the space of what Austria judged to be about four seconds. Over his shoulder, Austria could see the purple beribboned head of Liechtenstein peer around the corner at the end of the corridor, and his heart sank even further. Of course Liechtenstein would be here.

"Hallo, Liechtenstein," he tried to sound cheery, and felt he had sufficiently failed dismally. Liechtenstein's smile widened.

"Grüezi, Österreich," she fluted back, succeeding his attempts at cheeriness by far, and even having the cheek to couple it with an even wider grin.

Austria blinked at the unfamiliar greeting, composure rattled. "I'm sorry, but what does gr-"

"Austria." Switzerland's voice now had a definite amount of coldness in it. "Shoes. Outside. Now. Liechtenstein…" the nation's voice softened slightly as he turned his gaze to his charge. His tone became positively gentle. "You can go and finish your reports, if you want."

Austria bit back an angry retort as he flung his shoes back outside. Switzerland sucked in a breath with an angry hiss as the toe of one shoe glanced off the doorway, leaving the tiniest of black marks.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Austria's voice now had what Hungary would possibly have classified as a decidedly bitchy undercurrent, had she been around. "I suppose that means another weeks' worth of cleaning for you, doesn't it? Since you love everything being so perfect." Austria finished, sweeping down the corridor quickly so the two nations could not see his trembles of anger. "If this is the type of reception I get for giving up my day, and then don't expect me to come back. I have enough to do without being ordered around the minute I put foot through the d..."

Austria stopped. He seemed to have walked down the corridor and emerged into what looked like a laundry. Even if the billowing white sheets hanging in pristine rows hadn't given him the first hint, the next clue would probably have had to be the strong smell of bleach. Feeling only the slightest bit chagrined, Austria turned around. "Where is the living room?"

For a moment, Switzerland stared wordlessly at him. Then, with the smallest of smiles twitching the corners of his lips, he said "You have to turn left when you go down the hallway."

"Right."

Liechtenstein giggled. Austria flushed angrily, wishing the floor would open up beneath him and swallow him whole. Not wanting to embarrass himself further, Austria strode down the hallway in the direction Switzerland had specified.

"Hey, wait." Switzerland hurried beside him. "I'm sorry. You're right – I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I apologize."

"Apology accepted." answered Austria curtly. "But next time, try to be less…"

He stopped. It occurred to him that past events would make saying what he had in mind rather awkward for both of them, so he clamped his mouth shut.

Switzerland eyed him. "Less what?"

Austria grimaced. "Don't worry about it." Wanting nothing more than to escape the situation, Austria headed for what he sincerely hoped was the correct door to the living room. "So, what do you have planned for today?" knowing Switzerland, he would probably have had a schedule carefully mapped and planned out for the entirety of the day.

The Swiss nation hesitated and, for the fraction of tiniest moments, Austria could have sworn he saw the faintest flicker of colour blossom on his cheeks before it faded. "Well, I was planning for us to go for a walk around the town… maybe see a few tourist attractions. I mean, since you've never really been here before…"

"That sounds good." whatever the reason, Austria was just grateful the day seemed to have nothing to do with Liechtenstein, who was staring avidly at them as if she expected them to… well, Austria wasn't exactly sure what the younger nation seemed to be expecting. To take his mind off the thought, he instead forced a smile at her. "Will you be coming along, kleiner kind?"

"No, I will be staying here," answered Liechtenstein. Her German was a little mangled, her accent only making things worse, but Austria was able to understand the gist. What he wasn't able to understand, and what slightly unnerved him, was the look of deep disappointment in her eyes. "I have to work on… political stuff," the tinge of annoyance in her tone betrayed her feelings towards such political trifles, and Austria once again felt slightly admiring that such a seemingly young girl could cope with, and fully understand, politics.

"I thought having just the two of us would be best," Switzerland piped up from behind them, his tone deadpan, betraying absolutely nothing.

For some reason, Liechtenstein giggled again.

"What language are they speaking?" asked Austria.

Several hours later had seen the arrival of the two nations in what Switzerland proudly referred to as Bahnnhoffstrasse, a meandering, kilometre- long road crammed with a generous variety of shops. Austria had been excited to hear that Switzerland's day plan included a wander through the famous street. He had heard stories of course – almost everybody knew about Switzerland's most famous (and also one of the most expensive) street. Austria had been delighted to find it almost exactly how he had imagined it; elegant and decadent with just the right about of Swiss efficiency, yet with a generous dollop of cosiness that somehow reinforced the prosaic feel to it…

Or maybe he was just being a hopeless romantic.

Once thing that bothered him, however, was the language he heard being gabbled everywhere. Austria knew that German was only one of three regional languages in Switzerland, along with Italian and French. Yet this knowledge had left him completely unprepared for the strange, rolling, tumbling language he now heard being spoken everywhere. As proficient in German as he was, Austria could not understand a word.

In contrast to Austria's wide-eyed curiosity, Switzerland seemed relaxed and completely at home in his largest city. "It's schwiizertuütsch." Seeing Austria's questioning look, he sighed and elaborated. "You might know it as Schweizerdeutsch. It's basically a different dialect of German. It's a spoken language." He added unnecessarily.

"I can't understand a word," Austria confessed.

Switzerland's green eyes twinkled with something that might have been mischievousness. "I did say it was different."

"I'm glad you can understand it. I'd be completely lost otherwise." Even as he spoke, Austria marvelled at how easy it had become to talk to the intimidating nation within the few hours he had been with him.

Then Switzerland had to ruin it by interjecting curtly, all trace of his previous joviality gone. "Nearly all of my people can understand German too."

"Sorry." Austria matched his curt tone, wishing Switzerland's mood wouldn't change so much. It was unlike the nation to be so moody.

Switzerland looked as though he would like to say more, but didn't. Instead he simply turned his head, allowing his gaze to skim across the passing pedestrians with a scowl as if each and every one of them had done something personally to insult him. Austria took advantage of his neighbouring nation's momentary lapse by taking the opportunity to look around some more. The wide street was bustling with all manner of people huddled into thick winter coats; although snow hadn't fallen, the air still contained a sharp enough bite to deter anybody from wearing anything lighter than a jumper.

"What are they selling?" Austria pointed to a small roadside stall situated underneath a tall tree. Hot steam issued forth into the coldness and the smell, new and foreign but still delicious, made Austria's mouth water.

Switzerland glanced at it. "Oh, they're probably selling heissi marroni."

Austria raised an eyebrow.

Switzerland sighed. "Hot roasted chestnuts. They're pretty common this time of year. I could…" maybe it was due to the cold, but the faint rose blush was slowly returning to Switzerland's face. "I could get you some, if you like."

"Oh… thank you." said Austria, surprised at the uncharacteristically generous gesture.

Switzerland shot him the faintest of smiles before striding off towards the stall. Austria followed slowly, hovering awkwardly behind. He was glad Switzerland had offered – the smell rising from the stall was beginning to make his stomach rumble, and he realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast, all of four hours ago.

"Grüezi," Switzerland greeted the stall vendor. "Ai heissi marroni, bitte. Für zwei."

Austria looked at him, fascinated by the sounds spilling from Switzerland's lips. What had he called it… Schweizerdeutsch. It really was a very unique language. It was guttural at times, yet it still managed to sound sing-song and rolling, tumbling from the mouth like… Austria mentally kicked himself, realizing to his horror that he was beginning to sound like a romantic again.

Accepting the paper bag from the vendor and handing over the appropriate payment, Switzerland strode back to Austria again, only to stop several paces away. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Austria blinked, disoriented. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"You were staring at me, weren't you?" Switzerland demanded in what Austria thought was an unnecessarily accusatory tone.

Austria shook his head, forcibly reminded of Italy's streaking and Switzerland's overreaction. "No, no, not like that. I'm sorry, it's just that I've never really heard Schweizerdeutsch before, and I was just… listening to you speak it…" dear Lord, he was beginning to sound as terrified as one of the Baltics.

Switzerland's gaze softened and he held out the bag. "Here you go."

"Tha…" as Austria reached out for the bag, the back of his gloved hand brushed lightly against Switzerland's own. Suddenly a spark, almost akin to electricity, seemed to zip along his arm. The air between them suddenly felt heavy, charged with…

Switzerland sucked in a hissing breath and Austria nearly choked.

So this was what Liechtenstein was looking forward to… Interrupting the sudden, irrational thought were Switzerland's eyes, flashing bright and hot and green into Austria's, blazing with a fury that left him light-headed.

"What are you doing?" the nation's voice was calm, but something heavy with anger throbbed behind his words.

Austria bristled. "I'm not doing anything! You just…"

Switzerland's eyes narrowed and he thrust the bag at him. "Here."

"T-thank you," Austria said. However rattled, he was still grateful for the Swiss's tactful change of subject. None of them wanted a reminder of The Event; in fact, personally Austria didn't want another reminder again for as long as he lived. Reaching inside the brown paper for one of the hot, roasted treats to distract himself, Austria cracked open the hard shell and popped what remained into his mouth.

"Good?" Switzerland inquired after several moments. The nation's stony demeanour had lessened slightly, and behind his words Austria detected a hint of trepidation – the nation's fear of failure.

"Mmm!" Austria managed to produce a smile from in the midst of the blaze of heat that suddenly scalded his tongue. "They're really good… but really hot." He swallowed with difficulty, gasped and fanned his tongue; no matter how undignified he knew he looked.

Switzerland looked slightly worried. "Do you want some water or…"

"No, no, I'm fine." Austria grimaced and rolled up the bag, sliding it carefully into the pocket of his coat and zipping it up. "But I think I'll wait until they've cooled."

Switzerland smiled. "Very wise."

"What do you want to do next?" asked Austria.

Switzerland hesitated. His previous iciness seemed to have dissolved with the heat from marroni; he seemed to have put the incident with the casual touch out of his mind. "It's a bit of a walk, but I thought we might go and see Zurichsee…"

Austria was fascinated. "What's Zurichsee?"

"It's a big lake," Switzerland instantly became animated, and Austria had to smile. The blonde nation's enthusiasm was almost infectious. "And it has a fountain in the middle… come on, I'll show you."

It took them a while to reach the lake; big as it was, it seemed to take them hours to navigate the wide streets. When they got there, Austria gasped.

Switzerland grinned, a rare expression for him. "Like it?"

The lake was huge. That was the only word Austria could think of to describe its immense size, although he was sure other words could be found. The shimmering, deep blue waters stretched far away into the distance, melding into the skyline where the snow-capped mountains formed a loving cradle for the setting sun. The sun coloured the waters and the steeply pitched rooftops in a wash of gold, making Austria's breath catch in his throat at the sheer beauty of it all.

"It's amazing," he breathed, taking it all in. "It's so beautiful."

Switzerland smiled and tilted his face to the sun, the dwindling rays kissing his face with warm light. "It is, isn't it?"

Then the snowflakes started falling.

Along the banks of the river, past the lengthening shadows and the snow-covered trees they walked, falling into a conversation. Austria marvelled at how easy it had become to talk to the Swiss nation; words mingled effortlessly in the gathering dusk. They talked about the Zurichsee, they talked about the history behind it, they talked about Lili and how they both commended her maturity, they talked about others nations, but mostly they just talked about mundane things. Simple things, but, in the dusk with the endless waters of Zurichsee stretching out before him, they felt so much more than that.

Against his will, Austria felt his lips lift and, despite himself, he found himself laughing. Soon they were pelting each other with snowballs as they ran, stooping quickly to grab handfuls of slush, hollering and cheering to the sunset that reddened the sky.

"So, what do you want to do now?" smiled Austria once they'd come to a halt, breathing slowly to regain energy.

Switzerland's face was flushed from the excitement of their impromptu snowball; he was smiling the largest smile Austria had ever seen him smile in his life. "How about a treat?"

Austria grinned easily back at him. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he was aware that such an endearing sentence would have bothered him any other time, but he didn't particularly care. "Yes?"

Hungary probably would have called his tone 'flirty'. Screw it, she wasn't here.

"What's the treat?"

Switzerland grinned and leant in closer. "There's a Lindt chocolate factory nearby that gives out free samples." His breath fanned Austria's face.

Austria's breath caught in his throat; excitement suddenly coursed through his veins. "Take me there."

"Close your eyes."

Austria squirmed. "Switzerland…"

He laughed softly. "Close them."

The evening exodus from the city by people desperate to get home was starting as Austria and Switzerland wandered down the street back to Switzerland's house. They had stopped beneath the shade of a large tree growing on the side of the road; the leaves cast dappled shadows across the two nations.

Austria relented. "Alright, fine." He closed his eyes.

Something gently brushed his lower lip – for a moment, Austria's heart seized his chest in an iron grip and refused to let go – until his mouth yielded and a rich, delicious flavour exploded onto his tongue.

"I wanted to save the best for last," Switzerland sounded amused.

Austria chewed the Lindt chocolate gently, savouring the gorgeous taste before swallowing as slowly as possible to preserve the taste. Feeling slightly light-headed at such an indulgence, he answered softly "That was delicious."

Switzerland grinned and cautiously linked arms with him. "Thank you for this, Austria." He said as they started walk up the street. He sounded so sincere Austria had not one doubt the emotion was genuine. The blonde man was smiling, something relaxed and almost happy creeping onto his face. "I had a really good time."

Austria looked back at him. "So did I. I'm glad we got to spend some time together."

Switzerland smiled. "So am I."

They reached Switzerland's house. Looking at all the eccentricities he had previously seen, Austria experienced the strange feeling that the Switzerland who was with him now wasn't the same as the one he had first met, and had to look back to be sure.

"So…" Switzerland trailed off into silence, shifting awkwardly in place. Austria smiled back, tightly, and suddenly wished the day would never end.

Suddenly Switzerland leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks – twice on the left, once on the right.

"What are you doing?" Austria gasped as he withdrew.

Switzerland's green eyes stared back at him. "I'm saying goodbye." Seeing Austria's shock, he smiled nervously and ran a hand through his hair – a gesture so uncharacteristically awkward it almost made Austria smile. "It's a cultural thing we do, I don't think…"

Austria leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

After a long, beautiful moment Austria felt indescribable by simple words, Switzerland drew away with a small, surprised gasp, green eyes instantly narrowing. "Ö- Österreich…"

"Hey." Austria grinned at him, and was rewarded by Switzerland's gaze instantly softening. "Have you heard of the Schubertiade?"

Switzerland blinked, diverted. "N… no…"

"I'll take you to it one day." Austria promised. Then, on impulse, he leant forward and kissed Switzerland on both cheeks. "Goodbye, Switzerland."

Switzerland touched his cheek, and smiled. "Goodbye, Austria."

Notes:

Ticino: One of the south-easternmost regions of Switzerland, where the official language is Italian.

Zürich: The biggest city in Switzerland.

Zürichsee [zu-rich (the 'ch' sound is made in the back of the throat) say]: Literally 'Lake Zürich', an enormous lake in the middle of Switzerland. The town of Zürich is mainly situated around the Zürichsee shores, hence the name.

Translations:

"Kleine kind," (kly-neh kin-d ): little child (German)

Grüezi, Österreich: [groot-zie, os-ter-righ-ch (the 'ch' sound is made in the back of the throat)]: Hello, Austria (Swiss-German)

Ai heissi marroni, bitte. Für zwei [ay (rhymes with high) high-see marron-ee, bee-teh. Fur zv-igh]: One roasted chestnut (bag), please. For two. (Swiss German, Zurich dialect)