[When he finally wakes up the next morning, it's a while before he gets to his phone. After an uncharacteristic amount of time spent flopped in bed, Norway drags himself to the kitchen for coffee - and then returns to bed. And that's when he finally checks his phone.]

[The fact that there is a message doesn't surprise him. Probably Denmark, he thinks. But the voice that he actually hears surprises him - and then he stares hard at the opposite wall as he remembers the call he made last night.]

[Shit. He doesn't remember all of it, but what he does remember is enough. The congratulations. The invitation for... something. He can't remember what. Drinks? Sex? Both? But he does remember the comment about Germany's attraction to his hair. Damn it. And strangely enough, aside from that dig about sobering up, Germany doesn't seem that bothered. Well.]

[He stares at his phone for a second. Thinks it over. Then calls him.]

G'morn. It's Norway. You were right; I was three sheets to it last night. Not that you ain't done the same yourself, haven't you. Callin' like that. I...

[For a second, he doesn't know how to put it. Well, fuck it.]

Wouldn't mind it. Seein' you, that is. Since it don't happen all that often, does it. ...Sunday sounds good, too. Thanks.