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“Jus…m’ typical inability ta talk ta som’on’ I like.” It was vague enough, his beer soaked mind assured him. He sighed and cupped his face in his hands.
”Ya’ve always been able to talk t’ Tino though…” The next thought was nearly visable on the Dane’s expression as his eyes widened and he looked towards his baby brother, his face unabashadly showing how thunderstruck he was.
“But it’s not Tino… Helka, lillebror.”
“Håll käften, Danmark.” He looked away, suddenly feeling more self concious. “N-nej. ‘s nah Tino. Bu’ ‘m nah gonna tell ya who ‘tis.” He wanted to curl up in a ball, shame and nerves radiating from him.
He switched over to the couch the Swede was on and sat beside him as he… rested his hand atop the other blond’s head. ” S’alright if ya don’t w’nna tell me. ‘N I know ya two divorced but… I always thought ya were still after ‘im.”