Perhaps he expected it to feel differently than it had before, but kissing him was the same as it always had been all those years ago - the only change was the way Denmark gasped in surprise, as he hadn't expected it; and then he yielded to Norway's mouth, and wrapped his arms around him, and that was all.

I need some time to myself, thanks Norway had written to him when he was on his own once more, finally out from under Sweden's roof, a century after everything fell apart for the two of them; and Denmark had understood, and let him be, as if he knew that Norway would let him know when – or if – he was ready to once again take up what they'd had together.

After nearly two hundred years, kissing him still felt the same - but everything else wasn't the same, not in the least, and that made all the difference.