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Entry tags:
Stillness [Netherlands/Denmark]
Title: Stillness
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Netherlands/Denmark
Rating: 10+
Length: ~500 words
Summary: Netherlands spends the night, and Denmark raises some questions. Set after the Battle of the Sound, 1658.
Other: Written for NedDen week. Prompt was "Comfort".
Stillness
Netherlands slid his fingers through Denmark's coarse hair and listened to the tilt of his sighs.
The siege had left him drawn and thin. Netherlands had never seen him looking so haggard. Not that it was any of his concern. But he had business interests to protect.
They both knew this.
Soon it would be time to snuff out the candle. But for the time being, they stayed as they were. Netherlands didn't look at Denmark – if he did, he might see that relieved expression on his face again, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Their evening together had been rushed. Official matters had been taken care of as quickly as possible, and it was late into the night when they went to Denmark's quarters together.
Denmark's kisses were sloppy. His hands begged even when his mouth didn't. That wasn't new. But there had been a hungry edge to it, something desperate, starving.
That, Netherlands decided, he didn't like.
He didn't like the bony shape of his wrists, or the thinness of his face, or the sharp angle of Denmark's body against his own. The needy way Denmark had looked at him, with a joy more than friendly happiness.
When they'd met together in port after the battle, with Dutch ships thick in the water and the smell of gunpowder in the air, Denmark had wrapped his arms around him, and Netherlands had let him.
He'd been too shocked by the way he looked to do anything else.
The candle burned low. Netherlands thought of snuffing it, but didn't.
Denmark's eyes cracked open. They looked dark in the dim light.
"How long're ya planning to stay?" he murmured, nuzzling at Netherlands' hand, brushing a kiss against his fingers.
Somehow, it seemed as if he wasn't only talking about staying for the night, or staying for the time being, or staying to oversee that the supply ships that had come along with the Dutch fleet delivered what was promised, and made sure that it went where it should.
It sounded like he was talking about something more. Like their alliance. Or something more personal.
Which would be worse.
The words 'I can't commit to that' rolled around on Netherlands' tongue. Or he could mention the supply galliots, even if they both knew that wasn't what this was about. Or he could simply say that it depended on what Sweden would do next. Because that was true enough.
Another kiss to his hand. Denmark had taken hold of it, squeezing it gently as he pressed his lips along Netherlands' wrist, his palm, his knuckles.
Netherlands took in a long breath, and dragged his gaze away, looking at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to figure out what the hell to say.
But he could still feel Denmark's lips, thin and feather-light.
"Dunno," Netherlands said finally. He moved then, shifting over to catch Denmark's face and kiss at his mouth. "I'll tell you when I have an answer."
He could promise him that, at least.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Netherlands/Denmark
Rating: 10+
Length: ~500 words
Summary: Netherlands spends the night, and Denmark raises some questions. Set after the Battle of the Sound, 1658.
Other: Written for NedDen week. Prompt was "Comfort".
Stillness
Netherlands slid his fingers through Denmark's coarse hair and listened to the tilt of his sighs.
The siege had left him drawn and thin. Netherlands had never seen him looking so haggard. Not that it was any of his concern. But he had business interests to protect.
They both knew this.
Soon it would be time to snuff out the candle. But for the time being, they stayed as they were. Netherlands didn't look at Denmark – if he did, he might see that relieved expression on his face again, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Their evening together had been rushed. Official matters had been taken care of as quickly as possible, and it was late into the night when they went to Denmark's quarters together.
Denmark's kisses were sloppy. His hands begged even when his mouth didn't. That wasn't new. But there had been a hungry edge to it, something desperate, starving.
That, Netherlands decided, he didn't like.
He didn't like the bony shape of his wrists, or the thinness of his face, or the sharp angle of Denmark's body against his own. The needy way Denmark had looked at him, with a joy more than friendly happiness.
When they'd met together in port after the battle, with Dutch ships thick in the water and the smell of gunpowder in the air, Denmark had wrapped his arms around him, and Netherlands had let him.
He'd been too shocked by the way he looked to do anything else.
The candle burned low. Netherlands thought of snuffing it, but didn't.
Denmark's eyes cracked open. They looked dark in the dim light.
"How long're ya planning to stay?" he murmured, nuzzling at Netherlands' hand, brushing a kiss against his fingers.
Somehow, it seemed as if he wasn't only talking about staying for the night, or staying for the time being, or staying to oversee that the supply ships that had come along with the Dutch fleet delivered what was promised, and made sure that it went where it should.
It sounded like he was talking about something more. Like their alliance. Or something more personal.
Which would be worse.
The words 'I can't commit to that' rolled around on Netherlands' tongue. Or he could mention the supply galliots, even if they both knew that wasn't what this was about. Or he could simply say that it depended on what Sweden would do next. Because that was true enough.
Another kiss to his hand. Denmark had taken hold of it, squeezing it gently as he pressed his lips along Netherlands' wrist, his palm, his knuckles.
Netherlands took in a long breath, and dragged his gaze away, looking at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to figure out what the hell to say.
But he could still feel Denmark's lips, thin and feather-light.
"Dunno," Netherlands said finally. He moved then, shifting over to catch Denmark's face and kiss at his mouth. "I'll tell you when I have an answer."
He could promise him that, at least.