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Entry tags:
Hearts all the way down [Netherlands/Romania]
Title: Hearts all the way down
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Netherlands/Romania
Rating: 18+
Length: 8.7k
Summary: Romania takes Netherlands to spend a few days out in the countryside. They've become closer than either of them ever would have expected.
Other: This was written for Char as part of the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtrumpshate charity auction. :D Thank you for bidding on my offer!
Many thanks for Amaly for her Romania-related suggestions and insight. :)
Hearts all the way down
There was one thing that was sure: business connections or not, Netherlands didn't need to come to Bucharest as often as he did.
Not half as often as that. Not a fraction as much.
Most of these so-called business meetings could be taken care of with some emails and a phone call. Bang, done.
And Netherlands knew that Romania knew this, as far as Romania could figure it.
But as tempting as it was to ask, "So, you came all this way just to see me?" Romania knew it was better not to question it, better to avoid drawing attention to the whole thing. After all, Netherlands was only looking after his interests! It just so happened to be that those interests were different than most people would expect – and different than either of them had anticipated at the start of it all.
One day for 'business'. Then a whole week more, with no obligations at all – and that meant Romania would have Netherlands all to himself.
All he had to do was get through the day.
Sitting through that wasn't easy – talking through matters of business and economics and investments while other things were on his mind – well, Romania sure did find that a challenge. At one point, he'd silently wondered if it would be worth it to suggest a break, and then drag Netherlands to the nearest broom closet.
One glance from Netherlands across the table was enough to tell Romania one thing: he knew exactly what Romania was thinking, and like hell was he going to agree to it. But the quirk of his lips said that he was taking it in good humour.
Fine, Romania thought. If Netherlands wanted to be serious about it, then he could be serious too. It was only for the time being, anyway.
Still, when it was all over, he had to admit that it was a relief to be done. When they stepped outside into the air together, he felt all the tension roll off of him. He walked with his hands in his pockets and a spring in his step, with Netherlands beside him.
"Looks like you're happy to be finished with that," Netherlands said.
Romania laughed. "Well, it's not like I mind talking over official things with you. That's always all right. But from now on, it's all going to be personal, and that's even better, isn't it?" He flashed Netherlands his toothiest grin, and to his surprise, he saw a hint of rose on his cheeks, warmth that couldn't just be from the sunny day.
Not that he was going to point it out or anything.
But Netherlands met his eyes, and it was clear by the look on his face that he knew exactly what Romania was thinking, and he'd prefer if he didn't say anything about it, thank you very much.
Romania gave him a light shove and kept walking.
When they slipped into Romania's apartment, he didn't give Netherlands time to say a single word. Reaching up, he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. He laughed at the startled sound Netherlands made – then made one of his own as Netherlands grabbed him and shoved him flat against the door, kissing him full and hard and good.
"I've wanted to do that all day," Romania gasped when they finally parted, still staying close, nose to nose.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So. Why didn't you?"
Romania rolled his eyes. The playful note in Netherlands' voice made it clear that he knew exactly why. "Someone didn't want to try the broom closet."
"I already told you. I'm not doing that again."
Romania nipped at Netherlands' lip, and got another kiss for that. He wondered if Netherlands would keep going, right then and there. It wasn't half bad a thought. But – well.
He gentled the kiss, then drew away a bit. "You looked tired. Earlier, I mean."
Netherlands made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, and buried his face in Romania's hair. "Had an early flight," he muttered.
"Yeah. I know." Romania trailed his fingers down his back. "You should get some rest. Sit with me a bit before supper. Okay?"
It was a little bit odd how easy it was to slip into comfortable domesticity. Romania chatted away as he prepared supper, and Netherlands listened, taking it all in, or at least making a good show of it.
"So, I checked the weather. Looks like it's going to be absolutely beautiful. No rain where we're going."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It'll be nice."
When he'd first suggested spending this week out at his little property in the countryside, Romania hadn't been sure what Netherlands would think of it. Was it his style? Hell if Romania knew. Even though they had been seeing each other for a while now, they were still learning things about each other.
But he'd liked it. Netherlands had liked the suggestion. Sounds good, he'd texted back when Romania offered, nothing beyond that. And that's what he said again, his voice a warm and welcome rumble, "Sounds good."
Romania turned to look at him. He was sitting there at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee by his hand, late afternoon light spilling in through the window and brightening his features. There was something about the sight of him there, the way he looked so right, so comfortable and at home, that made Romania's chest feel tight.
Netherlands quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"
Oh boy. Well, Romania thought, the truth would probably be too mushy for Netherlands' taste. Better to be cryptic. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
A snort. "Sure." Then, he looked away, out the window. "I was thinking. Never seen much of your place. Outside the city, that is."
"Yes...?"
"I'm looking forward to it." There was a hint of a smile there, barely visible at the corner of Netherlands' lips. "It'll be nice to see more of you."
Romania forced himself to tear his eyes away from him. He directed his gaze to the cutting board in front of him, trying to ignore the little twisty feeling in his guts. Come on, he told himself. You're besotted, sure, but there's no need to be tongue-tied about it. Still, he racked his brain to try to think of something to say to that, and came up short. Well.
"I don't know," he said, keeping his tone light and saucy. "You've already seen plenty of me."
He got a laugh for that, which was what he was aiming for, and allowed himself a little laugh of his own. But he couldn't shake the warm feeling that washed over him at the thought that Netherlands wanted to see more of him – all of him.
Supper was good. Nice. Or so Netherlands said. After the washing up, they headed to the balcony to have a drink and talk a bit. Well, Romania did most of the talking at first. He went on about the trip, the mountains, and everything they'd see there, while Netherlands lit up, the smoke curling around him as he listened.
"I know some places we can go – it's a bit of a hike, but the view's great."
"A good view, huh."
There was nothing subtle about the way Netherlands' eyes slid over him. Romania smirked and rested back in his chair a bit. Tilted his head a little, so his hair would fall back from his face. They'd played this game before.
But it was different this time. Just a little. Enough to make an impression. Romania wondered if Netherlands caught on to that feeling. He kind of hoped that he didn't. Netherlands didn't need to know exactly how close he wanted to be to him. Not yet.
So, he let him enjoy the view as much as he wanted. Let him look as they kept on talking together, quiet, relaxed, comfortable. There wasn't any reason to end the moment right away. Better to enjoy the closeness and the warm evening light.
That light was dim by the time they slipped back inside.
"Do you want to turn in early?" Romania asked, glancing at the clock. It wasn't late yet.
There was a touch to his hair, long fingers slipping through it. "I might," Netherlands said.
Romania grinned. Going to bed, of course, did not mean going to sleep. And as those fingers trailed down to brush the back of his neck, he knew that Netherlands was thinking the same thing.
He turned and pushed him toward the bedroom.
They didn't bother to turn on the light. What came in from the fading evening sky was enough. Romania reached for Netherlands, pulling him nice and close – and got nudged against the dresser, as if there was some kind of goal to trap him there. Before he could make some snarky comment about that, Netherlands stole a kiss, and – oh, that was nice, that was very nice. Romania sighed and let him do it. For the second time that day, he relaxed against him, letting his hands trail up and up to settle on his shoulders.
The soft, content sound Netherlands made was hard to miss. Like he'd been thinking about this ever since they'd stepped foot inside. Well, maybe he had. Those big hands of his were pretty insistent, sliding down his sides to his hips, lingering there for a bit.
Romania shivered, flushing at the sensation of Netherlands' tongue as it swept over his lips. And those hands slid, wandering over his thighs, then back to settle at his ass, resting there.
He groaned when Netherlands broke the kiss, feeling heady and warm, flushed even though they'd hardly started yet. Tilting his head, he tried to kiss him again. Missed when Netherlands dipped his head to nuzzle at his throat. Well, that was fine, he sure wasn't about to complain. Especially not when Netherlands' hands were where they were.
Then, those hands gripped him, and lifted him up, setting him on the dresser.
Romania gasped, the unexpected movement making him dig his fingers into Netherlands' shoulders until he was settled. "Jesus," he breathed. Pulling back, he looked up at him, blinking and flustered.
"Didn't want to bend down so much," Netherlands muttered. He sounded almost embarrassed, even if Romania couldn't blame him.
"Fair enough," Romania breathed, tilting his head up to graze a kiss over Netherlands' cheek. "We could move to the bed if it bothers you." He kept his tone light, knowing that Netherlands would understand that he didn't mind it at all.
"Yeah. But I like you better like this."
Netherlands' voice by his ear was a low rumble. And as Romania was wondering exactly what he meant, Netherlands slid his hands along his thighs, guiding them apart. And before Romania could think of anything witty to say in response, Netherlands covered his mouth again, kissing him fiercely as he pressed close.
Romania groaned, parting his lips to let him in. He opened his legs wider, lifting them to wrap around Netherlands' waist and pull him close.
The moan Netherlands made in response to that was swallowed against Romania's mouth. Romania grinned, sucking at his tongue, rolling his hips to meet him. He could feel him through the fabric between them, hard and pressing. A flush spread over Romania's face as he rocked against that, felt the firm and insistent shape of his cock against his own.
It wasn't enough. They hadn't been able to see each other for months; it hadn't been possible. He'd made do with his imagination, at least for a while, but now he had him and this – this wasn't enough.
Romania broke the kiss, gasping against Netherlands' mouth. "We should stop fooling around," he said.
"Yeah? I thought you liked fooling around."
"Well, yes, but. I mean..." He flushed a fraction deeper, struggling to form coherent sentences as Netherlands ground against him again. And then Netherlands kissed him again, and that didn't help either; he could feel his lips curling into a smile against his mouth.
Well, there was only one way to handle this. He used his legs to tug him closer, forcing Netherlands' hips flush against his own so he could grind against him as hard and rough as he could. That sure wiped the grin off his face, replacing it with a low, desperate moan.
Point made, apparently.
He wasn't sure how they made it to the bed. All that he was aware of was Netherlands drawing away long enough to let him down and tug his trousers down and off. The cushion of the mattress as his back hit it. Then one too-long moment before Netherlands joined him, pinning him down, kissing him fierce and hard.
Romania gasped into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around him again and bucked up against his cock. Oh, he'd wanted this for months, and now here they were.
Almost.
"Come on," he gasped into the kiss. "Stop making me wait." Because Netherlands was moving too slow. Dragging it out. Not that he minded, but -
Netherlands moved the kiss to his neck. "What if I feel like taking my time?" It sounded like he was rolling his eyes, but between the way his tongue stroked over his pulse, and those long fingers trailed over his hipbones, Romania couldn't bring himself to care.
The pause as Netherlands pulled away to reach for it was excruciating. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer – it was only a moment before Netherlands kissed him again, pushing his thighs apart to get it done. It was familiar now: the feeling of those long, thick fingers easing into him.
Romania dug his fingers into Netherlands' shoulders and groaned. It was impossible not to move against those long fingers inside of him, his hips jerking upward. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Netherlands to hurry the hell up, or to keep going on like that – exactly like that, easing him slowly and gently, sliding deep to make him come.
Beside him, he could hear movement, and felt hot breath against his neck. Netherlands, grinding against the mattress. Oh, fuck. That was -
"Hey," Romania breathed, not caring how breathless he sounded as he panted out the word. "Hurry up, I've been waiting all day for this."
"Could make you wait longer." Netherlands' voice was rough, the words punctuated by slick tongue against Romania's collarbone, his fingers sliding deeper into him.
Romania bit back a gasp. He almost wanted to take him up on that. Push him, let him tease, see how far he would take it. How long either of them could stand waiting.
"Nah. You could, but you won't." He wasn't sure how he got the words out. "You want me too much."
A soft huff, like he couldn't think of a reply to that. But it must have meant 'fair enough,' because he removed his fingers. Slipped them out. Moved to reposition himself between Romania's thighs, pausing only a moment to slick up his cock, sliding his hand between them.
Romania grasped him, stroked him until he moaned, then guided him in.
Netherlands' hair was mussed, all out of order, a few strands falling in his face. His eyes fluttered shut as he eased his way in.
Romania wrapped his arms and legs around him and arched up to kiss him.
He'd missed this. Hell, the both of them knew it. He'd missed the press of Netherlands' lips, the way it felt to wrap strands of his hair around his fingers and give it a good tug, tight enough to make him groan. The heat rolling off him, the quick hard thrust of his hips that Romania kept rocking up to meet. It was impossible to be closer than this.
Gripping at him, Romania gasped against Netherlands' mouth as he rocked into him again. Raked his nails across his scalp and felt more than heard his muffled moan.
He wanted it to last, but it seemed Netherlands had other ideas. Breaking the kiss, he moved lower to graze Romania's throat again, shifting as he did so, moving to grip at his hips to thrust hard and deep and fast. That was the end of it – that slick tongue against his neck, the strong hands at his hips, thumbs pressed hard against the bones. He didn't even have to touch himself. Nobody could last under all that.
But at least Netherlands didn't take much longer either. Romania clung to him all through it, and didn't let go until he was finished.
They rested side by side after that, quiet aside from rushed, heavy breathing that eventually slowed. It was dark in the room, nothing but a sliver of light slipping in through the curtains. Not enough to see by.
Romania stared up at the ceiling and listened to Netherlands' content sighing and the sound of vehicles passing on the street outside.
It was hard to know what to say at times like this. Oh, he could think of something, sure. But it wouldn't necessarily be the right thing. Even if it was the truth.
Everything he thought of was deeply affectionate, more than was strictly appropriate for the situation. Or for who the two of them were. Or both.
He could say 'I missed you,' - and it was true. Romania thought about that for a moment, then pushed the thought away. Maybe it was better not to come across as too much of a romantic. Netherlands would probably find it too sappy.
As Netherlands slid his arms around him and pulled him close, Romania decided not to say anything about it at all.
"Should get cleaned up," Netherlands murmured, showing sign of moving.
"Guess so." But instead of sliding out of his grip, Romania cuddled up closer to him. "It's not that late. We don't have to get ready for sleep right away."
It was bullshit; Romania had no idea what time it was. By the way Netherlands kissed him, lips curling into a smile, he knew he felt the same.
It was late in the morning when they finally left Bucharest. Later than they'd planned for, at least. At first, Romania hadn't realized something was wrong; but when he woke, glanced at the alarm clock, and suddenly realized that he hadn't set it – well. That explained why he felt so rested.
When Netherlands stirred beside him, murmuring a question about what time it was, Romania gave the answer straight out. Netherlands cursed in response, but cuddled up to him all the same.
It wasn't a big deal. They had all the time in the world. Or at least, they had enough time that they could take their time, and that was good enough.
Leaving the city behind them felt good.
"It might take us a while to get there," he warned Netherlands as they packed up his car for the drive.
"It's fine," was the reply. A pat on the shoulder punctuated it. "We can talk along the way."
And they could avoid the inefficiencies of public transport, though neither of them mentioned that. Netherlands had heard Romania complain about the state of his train system more than once.
Besides, there was the simple fact of privacy.
It was so much easier to have a conversation as their true selves if there was nobody around to hear it. Humans listening in could complicate things.
"Go ahead and sleep for a while if you want," Romania said, glancing at Netherlands as they settled into the car. "I don't mind."
They had a long drive ahead of them. Even if they took every short cut Romania knew of, it'd still take most of the day to get where they were going – and that was with taking traffic and sheep into account.
Beside him, Netherlands shifted in his seat, resting back a bit. "I could drive for part of the way," he offered. "If you tell me which roads to take."
Oh god, Romania thought. That's exactly what I need. His blood ran cold at the thought of Netherlands trying to navigate his roads, even with Romania himself beside him, giving directions.
And that wasn't even getting into the problem of everyone and everything else on the road.
He laughed it off, shaking his head a bit. "Nah, I'm fine. Besides, when was the last time you drove anywhere?"
"...Well -"
"And bicycles definitely do not count."
There was a long pause. A kind of 'well, you got me there' pause.
Romania smirked. "Just leave it to me," he said, letting Netherlands off the hook.
He let his hand fall to rest between them. After a second, Netherlands covered it with his own, their fingers knitting together. There was that tight feeling again. Funny, how it could pop up at moments like this.
Getting out of the city was business as usual: a familiar barrage of traffic, honking, and signals existing as merely a suggestion. Typical though it was, that didn't stop Romania from muttering curses near-constantly. Netherlands, for his part, barely said a word, though more than once Romania heard him catch his breath as they rushed their way through traffic.
One glance showed him pale-faced and white-knuckled. Romania snorted and turned his attention back to the road.
"Glad I won't be taking your offer?"
"...Yes."
Nothing more needed to be said.
It was a long drive, but Netherlands weathered it well enough after they got out of the city. After an hour, he managed to settle, relaxing a bit in the passenger seat, no longer looking like he'd have a heart attack at any given moment, though Romania did hear him suck in a sharp breath now and then.
That was good, Romania reflected, because they had a lot of hours ahead of them.
It wasn't as if Romania hadn't warned him. "It'll take a while, but it's the best way to get there," he'd promised. "And the view from the car will be great."
And he meant that. Every word.
Winding highways. Mountains rising up around them. Romania had come this way so many times, and the drive was second nature to him. They talked for a while, but eventually both of them quieted, leaving Romania with his eyes on the road and Netherlands with his gaze directed out the window.
Romania bit his tongue and shoved the questions down. He wondered what it would be like to see this place for the first time: the road snaking its way through the mountains, the peaks, the bright colours of forest and fields as they passed.
He wanted to say, 'You've seen part of me, and this is the rest; don't forget that I'm both'. Or 'Sorry the trip is so long, but I wanted to show you some of the most beautiful parts of me'. But he kept it in, kept his mouth shut.
The thing was, Romania reasoned, if Netherlands didn't quite feel as serious about all this, it'd be awkward. It was so much, so fast. But if he did feel the same, and he understood everything, well... Then there was no need to say it, was there? So he reached over, squeezed his hand. Felt the reassurance as he squeezed back.
There was no point in complicating things.
The day went on just as they expected. Stopped a few times to get out and stretch their legs. And have a smoke, in Netherlands' case. Always, his eyes were on the surroundings – the mountains, the trees, the horizon, as if he were measuring it all up. There was something analytical about the way he took it all in. Romania wasn't sure what to think about that.
They took their time when they stopped for lunch, opting to take it outside because the weather was good. Romania had spread the map out on the table, weighing it down with their coffee cups. Tracing the route, he explained a few things.
"Okay, we're here. And we're going to end up..." His fingertip slid along mountain roads and through countryside. "...Here. We'll get in at around suppertime, or maybe a little later. I think."
"You think?"
"It depends on a few things. How the roads are doing. And traffic. And other things."
Netherlands grunted acknowledgement. Apparently that answer was good enough for him. He let that be, and lifted his gaze up to the sky. Romania watched. The smoke coiled around him, then drifted gently up, disappearing. Beneath the table, their feet brushed against each other. It was good.
'I think' proved to be a necessary statement. The roads themselves weren't too bad. Getting stuck behind flocks of sheep was another thing. After the third sheep-related delay, Romania bit back a sigh, wondering if he should have budgeted more time for this.
Netherlands, mercifully, didn't comment. When Romania glanced at him, he only raised an eyebrow, and let it be. He had warned him.
Delays or not, there was still light outside when they finally made it. As they drove through the village, the sunlight was golden, spilling everywhere, all over the houses and hedges and gates. Beyond that were fields dotted with haystacks, and rearing above them, the mountains.
Romania's property was small and well-kept. Plain and simple – the sort of place that didn't have much more than the necessities. The kind of place that somebody might sneak off to when they wanted nothing more than a little bit of peace and quiet.
It didn't take that long to haul everything in from the car. Start setting things up. Then he left Netherlands to his own devices. By the look of him, he could tell that he needed a moment to decompress. After a day stuck in a car, who wouldn't?
All it took was a few words, nothing more to get him to agree that a bit of a breather was a good idea. Then Romania slipped out. Nipped down the road to the neighbour's place, thanking her for keeping an eye on his house while he was away. She pressed on him bread and eggs and cheese, and a bottle of tuica too, and made him promise – soon – to introduce her to his friend.
Netherlands was unpacking when he returned.
"Leave supper to me," Netherlands said, nodding toward the stove.
Romania lifted an eyebrow as he set everything down on the table. "You're sure?" he asked, going over to put his arms around Netherlands' waist. "I wouldn't mind doing it, I -"
"You've been driving the whole damn day." Netherlands' response was gruff, but his hands moved to cover Romania's, and it was clear that the meaning wasn't what it sounded like. "Let me look after this."
Romania considered that. Then he moved closer, letting his head fall to rest against Netherlands' shoulder, closing his eyes as he took in the sounds. Slow breathing. Birdsong outside. The creak of the floorboards as Netherlands shifted from one foot to the other.
Netherlands said 'Let me look after this' as if what he actually meant was 'Let me look after you'.
Who could say no to that? "If that's how you're going to be about it, then I don't mind," he said, grinning as he spoke.
Those warm hands squeezed his own. "Sure." Though he couldn't see it, the smile was obvious in Netherlands' voice. "It'll be the real gourmet shit."
Romania laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything else."
The 'gourmet shit' turned out to be simple, quick, more like breakfast food than a proper supper. But after a day of travel, literally anything would have tasted delicious.
Sunlight still lingered when they set out that evening, walking together down old footpaths. The air smelled like cut grass and green things.
Neither of them said much. They kept quiet, walking close, but not touching. Romania's shadow was long, but Netherlands' was longer, completely covering his if they stood in just the right way.
"We could go into the mountains tomorrow," Romania said. "If you want, I mean. I know you aren't much for hiking or anything, but..."
A soft snort at that remark, but Netherlands didn't deny it. "I guess we could take a look. Get some pictures."
"We could make a day of it."
"You could show me your... mountains." The if you know what I mean lingered unsaid.
Romania snickered, giving Netherlands a little shove. That sounded good to him – in either sense of the term.
They were too tired to do anything by the time they made it back to the house. All they managed was put down sheets and strip their clothes off. They fell into each other's arms, dozed almost as soon as they hit the mattress.
Morning came like a slap upside the head. Romania had forgotten to pull the curtains shut the night before, and that's what they got for it: sunlight right in the eyes. While Netherlands pulled the blanket over his head and groaned, Romania slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen.
For a while he stood there, palms flat against the kitchen counter, listening. Outside, the garden was full of song. It was nothing like the sounds of the city, all the noise that Bucharest made when it was waking up.
He opened the window and breathed in the clear morning air. Then he set about getting everything ready.
By the time Netherlands dragged himself out of bed, Romania had already packed lunch. It didn't hurt to be prepared.
Netherlands took his sketchbook with him.
Romania hadn't even known he'd packed it. Hadn't expected him to bring it on this trip. Or any others. The few times Romania had seen him with it, he had been visiting Netherlands' place. But this time – it must have been because he knew they would be spending time out in the country. Somewhere picturesque. Or whatever you called it when somebody kept asking to stop so he could jot down some lines, capture everything on the page.
It was... different.
Romania slipped a book into his backpack along with their lunch. Every time they stopped, he took it out, and read. Or pretended to read. In truth, he couldn't concentrate on it, and wasn't really pretending to, anyway. His gaze kept getting pulled over to Netherlands.
He liked watching his hands move. And the way his eyes narrowed a bit in concentration as he worked. The soft huff as he took a drag on his cigarette, pausing to look at whatever it was that he was trying to capture – a tree, a cliff, the peak of a mountain against the sky – before turning his attention to the page again.
"Going to have to bring paints some time," Netherlands muttered when they stopped once again.
"Oh?" Romania asked, looking up from where he sat unpacking their lunch.
"Yeah." A pause, nothing but the sound of pen scratching on page. "Can't do much with what I've got here. Paint's better for catching the light."
"I see," Romania replied, even though he didn't. He shrugged, and went back to unpacking, setting out thermos and sandwiches. "You should draw me."
Netherlands snorted. "I already am," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he showed him the sketchbook page, mountains picked out in black.
Romania laughed. Fair enough.
But later on, when they continued on their hike after lunch, Netherlands stopped him again. Tapped Romania's shoulder. Gestured to a sunny spot, with trees dipping branches down and a view of the valley in the background. "Sit here," he said, then went to take out his sketchbook.
Romania's brows lifted. He hadn't expected him to take his suggestion seriously. "Okay," he said, slipping his backpack off and setting it down. "How do you want me?"
"Whichever way is comfortable." A gesture out toward the view. "But facing that way."
Romania went. Plunked himself down. Shifted a little to get comfortable.
Then he waited.
He heard the click of a camera as Netherlands took a picture, then pages flipping. Then quiet, nothing but the sound of birdsong and rushing leaves and pencils scratching on paper.
"You can talk if you want," Netherlands muttered, sounding half-distracted. "Just don't move around too much."
"Fine," Romania replied. But he didn't say anything at first; just kept looking out, resting back on his palms.
He wondered if Netherlands saw what he saw. No doubt looking out at those mountains, and farmland and slim winding roads below, didn't mean as much to him as it did to Romania, but maybe he understood it. Sort of. Except -
"I guess you can't look down at your place like this, since you're so flat. Right?"
There was a pause, the scratching on the page suddenly quiet. A nod, maybe, or maybe not. Romania waited, fighting the desire to turn around and look at him.
Finally, there was the click of pencils against each other, and a soft grunt of acknowledgement. "No. Highest I could get for a damn long time was a church tower. Or the mast of a ship." More scratching. "This's different."
"Oh?"
"Looking at you like..." Another pause, like he was waving at it all, the expanse rolling out beyond them. "All this. I like it."
Romania felt his cheeks heating a little. It had to be because of the sunlight. Yeah, that must be it, he told himself. "I see," he said.
And he did.
The rest of the day went much the same, except that the stops, unlike when they first began, involved Netherlands asking Romania to sit for him. Sometimes he'd wave a hand to a particular spot, but other times he'd give more specific instructions. "Sit there. Turn your head like – yeah, like that. Hold it there."
And the photos. If Netherlands wasn't drawing, he was taking pictures. Romania asked him if he liked what he saw, and Netherlands murmured something about the light being just right.
The ride back was long, but good. Romania let his hand fall to rest against Netherlands'. Their fingers linked, and stayed that way.
He ached to ask him what he thought. If he'd had a good time. If he'd liked what he saw. Not that Romania was so concerned about it most of the time. But having someone look at him with an artist's eyes, wandering all over his landscape, had been kind of unnerving. It left him feeling like he'd been stripped bare.
Later that night, they sat playing cards together. The light coming in from the windows was enough to squint by, but they'd lit candles to give more. They cast a soft glow over Netherlands' face as Romania watched him from across the table. At a gesture, Netherlands slid the bottle of tuica over. No need to bother with glasses when it was only the two of them.
A breeze blew through the window, bringing the night air and the scent of grass. The candles flickered, but held.
Romania grinned as Netherlands put his cards down in defeat. "I win," he said, his voice drawling. The warm, hazy feeling probably had more to do with the long, busy day than the victory, but damn, did it ever feel nice.
"You win," Netherlands agreed. He huffed, and shuffled their cards back into the deck.
"Another game?"
"Not when you're looking so smug about it."
"Fine, fine." Romania sat back in his chair. Thought for a moment. He nudged Netherlands under the table with his foot. "I could read your cards if you want," he said, nodding to the deck of playing cards nestled in Netherlands' hands.
"Yeah? I thought you needed special cards for that."
"Nah. Normal ones are fine. All it means is that you need to keep the reading simple."
Netherlands looked skeptical, the way he always did at the mention of magic. But then he shrugged, and nodded.
A smile spread over Romania's face. He was learning.
At Romania's instructions, Netherlands shuffled the deck, then handed it over. Picked three cards when Romania offered him the lot, fanned out, face-down.
"Okay," Romania said, placing them face down on the table. "What we have here is past, present, and - " he tapped the final card - " future." He smiled as Netherlands sat back, arms folded over his chest, preparing to be amazed. "Let's see, now..."
"Don't you just make it up?" Netherlands said, interrupting before Romania could even turn over the first card.
"Well, I could. Especially if I was reading for a stranger. Sometimes you need to fish a little to find out what the cards or saying. Or what the person you're reading for is really asking, rather than what they say they're looking for. But I'll have you know -" Romania tapped the card for emphasis, "I have a 90% success rate." He smiled again, and kicked at Netherlands' foot under the table. He got a kick back for it, sure, but it was followed by a mutter to go ahead.
He turned the first card over. "Five of hearts. Disappointment and unhappiness. You lost something, and it took a while to get over it. Maybe you had some regrets." He glanced up at him. "But remember, we're talking the past, here."
Netherlands frowned, staring at it, eyes narrowing a bit. "Sure." A pause. "You could say this about any of us." His gaze lifted from the card to meet Romania's eyes.
"True," Romania conceded. "It's kind of hard to read for people like us, since we've lived so many lives, but..." He shrugged. "I'm trying to read you. Now, come on, let me get on with it."
The second card was the ace of hearts.
"Guess I didn't shuffle it enough," Netherlands muttered.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Romania said. He ran his thumb along the edge of the card thoughtfully. "We were playing with them before, remember. And you didn't put them back in order. So whatever this is, it isn't because of that."
Netherlands huffed. "Fine. So that's it mean?"
"This one's for where you are now. It represents happy beginnings, new opportunities... Things aren't perfect, but you're doing pretty well for yourself, especially in comparison to some earlier times." Romania slid the past and present cards together, five nestled against the solitary one. "Now, remember – I'm not really talking about economics and stuff."
"No?"
"That'd be diamonds. But hearts are for the heart." As Netherlands rolled his gaze toward the ceiling, Romania laughed. "And sometimes for the head. Emotional things. Relationships. Hell, it could even be talking about independence, considering who you are. But I'll let you think about it a little."
"Relationships?"
"Right. Any kind. Not only romance," he added hastily. "Though it could be. And next..."
Romania flipped over the last card, then paused, staring at it.
The two of hearts sat there on the table, warm in the glow from the candles. It seemed to rest quietly, the bright red hearts on its face making no attempt to dim themselves, as if they knew that they said everything that needed to be said.
Romania cleared his throat. "Uh..."
"So, what's it mean?"
Netherlands was grinning. He had that smug look he sometimes got when he was the one in control of the situation.
Romania could feel heat spread over his cheeks. Well, he told himself, with a card like that, it wasn't as if it would be hard to figure out what it meant, even for someone who doesn't know a thing about reading tarot.
"Well" he said, trying to will the blush away, without much success. "It can mean, um. Mutually beneficial connections. If I were doing this reading for, y'know, you in your role as a nation, I'd say it's probably talking about our business partnerships."
"You're biased."
"Sure."
"You're also doing a reading for me as myself."
"Right." Romania swallowed. Netherlands still looked amused. Is it hot in here, Romania thought, or is it just me? There was something about the warmth of the candlelight, the way the shadows played on the angles of his face. "To the extent that it's possible to read only for you, that is. Which isn't much."
He looked at the card again. Grazed his fingers over the print on it. He could feel Netherlands watching him.
In his mind, he pictured the image that would usually grace the face of the card. Two people gazing into each other's eyes, grasping cups of love. "I think you can guess what this one really means."
"I might. Or maybe it's a coincidence," Netherlands offered.
Coincidence or fortune telling? What's the difference? Romania looked at him again. "Maybe it is," he said. "So?"
Netherlands looked thoughtful. Then he rose, and slipped to the other side of the table. One hand cupped Romania's face. He tilted his head up to meet him as Netherlands bent low to steal a kiss.
"We should go to bed," Netherlands muttered against his lips. As if it was a suggestion. As if Romania would do anything other than agree.
Romania grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him again. Yes.
They snuffed out the candles. Romania pushed him to the bedroom in the dark. Before they were halfway there, he decided he couldn't wait another second, and pressed Netherlands against a wall. Netherlands' mouth was hot on his own, kissing him firmly, like it was a challenge. And Romania took that challenge, sucking at his lip as he pinned him there, thigh pressing between his legs to push them apart.
That earned him a gasp of surprise that left Romania smirking against his lips, and for a second he thought of giving up comfort in favour of having him there, right there. But the image on the card was pressed into his mind, and as much as he liked the thought of sinking to his knees, maybe something more romantic would be better.
Fine.
He pulled away from Netherlands, and grabbed his hands, tugging him on toward the bedroom.
"Changed your mind?" Netherlands asked. His voice had a laugh in it.
"You're too tall. If I'm going to kiss you, I might as well be comfortable."
They both knew Romania wanted to do more than just kiss him.
Bedroom. Finally. Even a few seconds seemed too long. It was such a challenge to keep his hands steady as he worked at the buttons on Netherlands' shirt. Tempting to rip it off, send them flying. But Romania restrained himself, put up with the wait, which was only a few seconds anyway. Or it would have been if it weren't for Netherlands' mouth and hands, the way he kept kissing him, grabbing him by the hips to pull him close.
The fabric fell away, drifting from Netherlands' shoulders to pool at his elbows. Romania let his fingertips trail, sliding down, down along his chest, then lower, grazing over stomach and buttons and fabric until he cupped at his crotch, the groan Netherlands made in response muffled by his mouth.
"Take these off," Romania said, pulling away far enough to speak. "Then get onto the bed."
"Fuck." The word was a gasp. Netherlands' fingers tightened in Romania's hair as he ground his crotch against his hand. The hard shape of his cock beneath the fabric made it really clear that he thought of that idea. "You don't mess around," he panted.
"Sometimes." Romania dipped his head, trailing his lips along Netherlands' throat, which was both easier to reach and had the effect of making him jerk against him again. "I don't think you mind."
"Not one bit." Netherlands pulled away, looking like he might say something more, then thought better of it and moved to strip off his clothes.
Romania's hands wouldn't move fast enough. He tried to keep them steady, but they betrayed him, trembling as he did his best to slip buttons through holes, as if fate was trying to delay him a little bit longer.
When he looked toward the bed, he paused, hands stilling. Netherlands had sprawled out over it, waiting for him. The last of the evening light spilled through the window, washing warm colour over his body, as if inviting him to look. Watch. Stare. So he did. Let his eyes slide over that broad chest, those strong, muscular thighs. His cock flushed and heavy and thick.
He let himself take in every detail. Not that he'd never seen him before, but there was something about looking at him there, like this, that made it different. Left him breathless.
"Like what you see?" Netherlands grinned as he asked it, one hand dipping low to coil around his cock, giving it a slow stroke. Like he was offering himself. Or showing off. Probably both. Romania watched as his thumb swept over the head, and imagined following its path with his tongue.
"I think you can guess," he said, and resumed getting out of his clothing, his hands suddenly steady enough for the job, as if working faithfully because they knew what they'd get out of it later. "I'll bet you know exactly what I'm thinking."
A soft breath, sucked in, acknowledgement. "Yeah. I do." Nothing more than that. Those words said enough.
Two of hearts. You didn't need to be an expert to know what it meant. Connections. Attraction. Passion. And Romania had been with Netherlands more than long enough to understand him.
He went over to him. Bent down to kiss him. Slipped onto the bed, the springs creaking as he went. And then he was on him, skin against skin, mouth open for his tongue, gasping as long fingers coiled in his hair. His hands splayed out over Netherlands' chest, trailing fingertips everywhere, drawing a groan out of him from the teasing. Suddenly what he wanted more than anything else was to touch him – everywhere.
He broke the kiss. Pushed Netherlands down against the pillow. Normally Netherlands would make some comment, but this time he only looked up, eyes warm and curious, asking without words what he had in mind.
Romania grazed his lips against his cheek, and dipped his head lower.
Over his throat, over his collarbones, over his chest, with lips and hands and tongue. It would be a lie to say that Romania didn't grin with satisfaction at the curse that slipped out of Netherlands' mouth when he ducked his head to lick at his nipples. Then down, down, fingertips sliding along stomach, along the hard line of his hip.
Those hands were in his hair again, guiding him now. His grip was sure and firm, knowing how far he could go with it. Romania let him, following his lead, mouth trailing down his body, lower and lower.
He let his mouth do the work. Lips and tongue sliding, stroking along the shaft, then up along the head to where he could taste how eager he was, the hint of slick beading there. His hands fell to Netherlands' thighs, fingers sprawled as he trailed his palms along them. They were muscular and strong and more than once he'd wanted to get himself off against them, rutting shamelessly between them.
Another time, maybe. Netherlands was getting impatient. He was the kind of guy that could only take so much teasing, not that Romania blamed him. Lips parted, he took him into his mouth, careful with the teeth – even if he knew Netherlands didn't mind it when things got a bit rough – and that wide palm slid to the back of his head, guiding him down.
Fuck. It was a lot. Even after all this time, it was a lot. Romania closed his eyes and worked at it, dipping his head slowly. He could feel Netherlands moving to brush the hair out of his face. The better to see him. The better to watch. The better to take in the intimacy of that moment and the wet, slick heat of his mouth on his cock.
Romania dug his fingers into Netherlands' thighs and groaned.
He wanted him. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted Netherlands to touch him. All of the above. And maybe, he told himself, Netherlands isn't the only impatient one here.
It was Netherlands who guided him away, and then up, low rough words asking him to come up here. And when he did, Netherlands kissed him, fierce and desperate and hungry.
He didn't have to wait long after that.
It wasn't long before he was sprawled over his lap, thighs spread wide. Hands gripping the headboard as Netherlands slid his thick fingers into him. Looking down at Netherlands, who looked back with eyes hazy and cheeks flushed.
"Hurry up," Romania breathed. "I don't have all night."
"For that, I should slow down," Netherlands muttered.
"Not tonight."
"No."
"Another night." Romania smiled.
"You just want to get on with it." From the pillows, Netherlands grinned up at him.
"I just want to ride you like a... Hell, I don't know. Like a bike."
Netherlands snorted. "Pretty fucking weird bike," he said, eyes flickering with amusement as he eased his fingers out of him all the same.
"Come on, you know what I mean."
If Netherlands had anything to say to that, he had second thoughts about it, because he shut up as soon as Romania guided his cock inside of him. A sharp breath, and nothing else as Romania began to move.
Romania didn't say anything either. He didn't have to. Just let his eyes drift partially shut, and lost himself in everything. The sensation of Netherlands' cock inside of him. Strong hands, one gripping his hip, the other sliding between them to stroke him, moving in time with the jerk of his hips. Their rushed breathing, the way the bed creaked with their movements, Netherlands thrusting up to meet him.
He wanted to keep that moment, and hold on to hold on to the sight of him – flushed, looking up at him, hair plastered to his forehead, the last of the light touching his face.
Romania bent to kiss him.
Neither of them lasted long. Because of the teasing. Or the wait. Or the fact that they both wanted each other so much. It didn't really matter.
After they were done Romania slid off of Netherlands' body, stretching out beside of him. He closed his eyes, not wanting to move yet. His body would ache in the morning, between the day's hike and the sex, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.
Lips brushed against his cheek. Romania tilted his head to meet them.
"That was..." A huff of breath as Netherlands paused, groping for the words. He kissed him instead of elaborating.
"Good," Romania offered, murmuring it against his lips. The word was too simple, not enough. But it was the best he could think of.
"Yeah," Netherlands agreed. "Good." Another kiss. Soft. Lingering. It said everything.
They didn't go to sleep. Couldn't. Tired though they were, it wasn't the right time yet. They cleaned themselves up and went out into the garden.
Lanterns and candles. Tuica and cigarettes. Romania set cards down for a game of solitaire while Netherlands watched his smoke spiral up toward the clear, starry sky, his expression quiet and thoughtful.
Romania paused when he pulled the two of hearts. He stared at it, running his fingers along the bright red design. That reading had been something else. He'd remembered the spark, the way it had felt just right. Now, it was only a card. But even so.
"What's on your mind?" Netherlands muttered.
"Oh, well." Romania laughed, then showed the card to him.
A huff. More smoke. A long drag on the cigarette. Netherlands gestured for him to give it over, and Romania passed it to him without a word.
For a moment, Netherlands stared at it in silence. His face looked relaxed in the candlelight, the cherry of his cigarette bright orange in the evening's dark. "And you believe in this?" he asked. Not judging. Just curious.
At any other time, he might have gone into how it isn't belief if you know. But Romania put that thought away. It wasn't the right time for technicalities. "Yes," he said. "I do."
Another long pause. Another look at the card, as if trying to read it. Then a short nod. "Fair enough," Netherlands said. He handed it back, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Small, but genuine. "I could get used to this."
Maybe it wasn't the most romantic way to put it. But as far as Romania saw it, that was fine.
He knew what Netherlands meant.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Netherlands/Romania
Rating: 18+
Length: 8.7k
Summary: Romania takes Netherlands to spend a few days out in the countryside. They've become closer than either of them ever would have expected.
Other: This was written for Char as part of the
fandomtrumpshate charity auction. :D Thank you for bidding on my offer!Many thanks for Amaly for her Romania-related suggestions and insight. :)
Hearts all the way down
There was one thing that was sure: business connections or not, Netherlands didn't need to come to Bucharest as often as he did.
Not half as often as that. Not a fraction as much.
Most of these so-called business meetings could be taken care of with some emails and a phone call. Bang, done.
And Netherlands knew that Romania knew this, as far as Romania could figure it.
But as tempting as it was to ask, "So, you came all this way just to see me?" Romania knew it was better not to question it, better to avoid drawing attention to the whole thing. After all, Netherlands was only looking after his interests! It just so happened to be that those interests were different than most people would expect – and different than either of them had anticipated at the start of it all.
One day for 'business'. Then a whole week more, with no obligations at all – and that meant Romania would have Netherlands all to himself.
All he had to do was get through the day.
Sitting through that wasn't easy – talking through matters of business and economics and investments while other things were on his mind – well, Romania sure did find that a challenge. At one point, he'd silently wondered if it would be worth it to suggest a break, and then drag Netherlands to the nearest broom closet.
One glance from Netherlands across the table was enough to tell Romania one thing: he knew exactly what Romania was thinking, and like hell was he going to agree to it. But the quirk of his lips said that he was taking it in good humour.
Fine, Romania thought. If Netherlands wanted to be serious about it, then he could be serious too. It was only for the time being, anyway.
Still, when it was all over, he had to admit that it was a relief to be done. When they stepped outside into the air together, he felt all the tension roll off of him. He walked with his hands in his pockets and a spring in his step, with Netherlands beside him.
"Looks like you're happy to be finished with that," Netherlands said.
Romania laughed. "Well, it's not like I mind talking over official things with you. That's always all right. But from now on, it's all going to be personal, and that's even better, isn't it?" He flashed Netherlands his toothiest grin, and to his surprise, he saw a hint of rose on his cheeks, warmth that couldn't just be from the sunny day.
Not that he was going to point it out or anything.
But Netherlands met his eyes, and it was clear by the look on his face that he knew exactly what Romania was thinking, and he'd prefer if he didn't say anything about it, thank you very much.
Romania gave him a light shove and kept walking.
When they slipped into Romania's apartment, he didn't give Netherlands time to say a single word. Reaching up, he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. He laughed at the startled sound Netherlands made – then made one of his own as Netherlands grabbed him and shoved him flat against the door, kissing him full and hard and good.
"I've wanted to do that all day," Romania gasped when they finally parted, still staying close, nose to nose.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So. Why didn't you?"
Romania rolled his eyes. The playful note in Netherlands' voice made it clear that he knew exactly why. "Someone didn't want to try the broom closet."
"I already told you. I'm not doing that again."
Romania nipped at Netherlands' lip, and got another kiss for that. He wondered if Netherlands would keep going, right then and there. It wasn't half bad a thought. But – well.
He gentled the kiss, then drew away a bit. "You looked tired. Earlier, I mean."
Netherlands made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, and buried his face in Romania's hair. "Had an early flight," he muttered.
"Yeah. I know." Romania trailed his fingers down his back. "You should get some rest. Sit with me a bit before supper. Okay?"
It was a little bit odd how easy it was to slip into comfortable domesticity. Romania chatted away as he prepared supper, and Netherlands listened, taking it all in, or at least making a good show of it.
"So, I checked the weather. Looks like it's going to be absolutely beautiful. No rain where we're going."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It'll be nice."
When he'd first suggested spending this week out at his little property in the countryside, Romania hadn't been sure what Netherlands would think of it. Was it his style? Hell if Romania knew. Even though they had been seeing each other for a while now, they were still learning things about each other.
But he'd liked it. Netherlands had liked the suggestion. Sounds good, he'd texted back when Romania offered, nothing beyond that. And that's what he said again, his voice a warm and welcome rumble, "Sounds good."
Romania turned to look at him. He was sitting there at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee by his hand, late afternoon light spilling in through the window and brightening his features. There was something about the sight of him there, the way he looked so right, so comfortable and at home, that made Romania's chest feel tight.
Netherlands quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"
Oh boy. Well, Romania thought, the truth would probably be too mushy for Netherlands' taste. Better to be cryptic. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
A snort. "Sure." Then, he looked away, out the window. "I was thinking. Never seen much of your place. Outside the city, that is."
"Yes...?"
"I'm looking forward to it." There was a hint of a smile there, barely visible at the corner of Netherlands' lips. "It'll be nice to see more of you."
Romania forced himself to tear his eyes away from him. He directed his gaze to the cutting board in front of him, trying to ignore the little twisty feeling in his guts. Come on, he told himself. You're besotted, sure, but there's no need to be tongue-tied about it. Still, he racked his brain to try to think of something to say to that, and came up short. Well.
"I don't know," he said, keeping his tone light and saucy. "You've already seen plenty of me."
He got a laugh for that, which was what he was aiming for, and allowed himself a little laugh of his own. But he couldn't shake the warm feeling that washed over him at the thought that Netherlands wanted to see more of him – all of him.
Supper was good. Nice. Or so Netherlands said. After the washing up, they headed to the balcony to have a drink and talk a bit. Well, Romania did most of the talking at first. He went on about the trip, the mountains, and everything they'd see there, while Netherlands lit up, the smoke curling around him as he listened.
"I know some places we can go – it's a bit of a hike, but the view's great."
"A good view, huh."
There was nothing subtle about the way Netherlands' eyes slid over him. Romania smirked and rested back in his chair a bit. Tilted his head a little, so his hair would fall back from his face. They'd played this game before.
But it was different this time. Just a little. Enough to make an impression. Romania wondered if Netherlands caught on to that feeling. He kind of hoped that he didn't. Netherlands didn't need to know exactly how close he wanted to be to him. Not yet.
So, he let him enjoy the view as much as he wanted. Let him look as they kept on talking together, quiet, relaxed, comfortable. There wasn't any reason to end the moment right away. Better to enjoy the closeness and the warm evening light.
That light was dim by the time they slipped back inside.
"Do you want to turn in early?" Romania asked, glancing at the clock. It wasn't late yet.
There was a touch to his hair, long fingers slipping through it. "I might," Netherlands said.
Romania grinned. Going to bed, of course, did not mean going to sleep. And as those fingers trailed down to brush the back of his neck, he knew that Netherlands was thinking the same thing.
He turned and pushed him toward the bedroom.
They didn't bother to turn on the light. What came in from the fading evening sky was enough. Romania reached for Netherlands, pulling him nice and close – and got nudged against the dresser, as if there was some kind of goal to trap him there. Before he could make some snarky comment about that, Netherlands stole a kiss, and – oh, that was nice, that was very nice. Romania sighed and let him do it. For the second time that day, he relaxed against him, letting his hands trail up and up to settle on his shoulders.
The soft, content sound Netherlands made was hard to miss. Like he'd been thinking about this ever since they'd stepped foot inside. Well, maybe he had. Those big hands of his were pretty insistent, sliding down his sides to his hips, lingering there for a bit.
Romania shivered, flushing at the sensation of Netherlands' tongue as it swept over his lips. And those hands slid, wandering over his thighs, then back to settle at his ass, resting there.
He groaned when Netherlands broke the kiss, feeling heady and warm, flushed even though they'd hardly started yet. Tilting his head, he tried to kiss him again. Missed when Netherlands dipped his head to nuzzle at his throat. Well, that was fine, he sure wasn't about to complain. Especially not when Netherlands' hands were where they were.
Then, those hands gripped him, and lifted him up, setting him on the dresser.
Romania gasped, the unexpected movement making him dig his fingers into Netherlands' shoulders until he was settled. "Jesus," he breathed. Pulling back, he looked up at him, blinking and flustered.
"Didn't want to bend down so much," Netherlands muttered. He sounded almost embarrassed, even if Romania couldn't blame him.
"Fair enough," Romania breathed, tilting his head up to graze a kiss over Netherlands' cheek. "We could move to the bed if it bothers you." He kept his tone light, knowing that Netherlands would understand that he didn't mind it at all.
"Yeah. But I like you better like this."
Netherlands' voice by his ear was a low rumble. And as Romania was wondering exactly what he meant, Netherlands slid his hands along his thighs, guiding them apart. And before Romania could think of anything witty to say in response, Netherlands covered his mouth again, kissing him fiercely as he pressed close.
Romania groaned, parting his lips to let him in. He opened his legs wider, lifting them to wrap around Netherlands' waist and pull him close.
The moan Netherlands made in response to that was swallowed against Romania's mouth. Romania grinned, sucking at his tongue, rolling his hips to meet him. He could feel him through the fabric between them, hard and pressing. A flush spread over Romania's face as he rocked against that, felt the firm and insistent shape of his cock against his own.
It wasn't enough. They hadn't been able to see each other for months; it hadn't been possible. He'd made do with his imagination, at least for a while, but now he had him and this – this wasn't enough.
Romania broke the kiss, gasping against Netherlands' mouth. "We should stop fooling around," he said.
"Yeah? I thought you liked fooling around."
"Well, yes, but. I mean..." He flushed a fraction deeper, struggling to form coherent sentences as Netherlands ground against him again. And then Netherlands kissed him again, and that didn't help either; he could feel his lips curling into a smile against his mouth.
Well, there was only one way to handle this. He used his legs to tug him closer, forcing Netherlands' hips flush against his own so he could grind against him as hard and rough as he could. That sure wiped the grin off his face, replacing it with a low, desperate moan.
Point made, apparently.
He wasn't sure how they made it to the bed. All that he was aware of was Netherlands drawing away long enough to let him down and tug his trousers down and off. The cushion of the mattress as his back hit it. Then one too-long moment before Netherlands joined him, pinning him down, kissing him fierce and hard.
Romania gasped into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around him again and bucked up against his cock. Oh, he'd wanted this for months, and now here they were.
Almost.
"Come on," he gasped into the kiss. "Stop making me wait." Because Netherlands was moving too slow. Dragging it out. Not that he minded, but -
Netherlands moved the kiss to his neck. "What if I feel like taking my time?" It sounded like he was rolling his eyes, but between the way his tongue stroked over his pulse, and those long fingers trailed over his hipbones, Romania couldn't bring himself to care.
The pause as Netherlands pulled away to reach for it was excruciating. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer – it was only a moment before Netherlands kissed him again, pushing his thighs apart to get it done. It was familiar now: the feeling of those long, thick fingers easing into him.
Romania dug his fingers into Netherlands' shoulders and groaned. It was impossible not to move against those long fingers inside of him, his hips jerking upward. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Netherlands to hurry the hell up, or to keep going on like that – exactly like that, easing him slowly and gently, sliding deep to make him come.
Beside him, he could hear movement, and felt hot breath against his neck. Netherlands, grinding against the mattress. Oh, fuck. That was -
"Hey," Romania breathed, not caring how breathless he sounded as he panted out the word. "Hurry up, I've been waiting all day for this."
"Could make you wait longer." Netherlands' voice was rough, the words punctuated by slick tongue against Romania's collarbone, his fingers sliding deeper into him.
Romania bit back a gasp. He almost wanted to take him up on that. Push him, let him tease, see how far he would take it. How long either of them could stand waiting.
"Nah. You could, but you won't." He wasn't sure how he got the words out. "You want me too much."
A soft huff, like he couldn't think of a reply to that. But it must have meant 'fair enough,' because he removed his fingers. Slipped them out. Moved to reposition himself between Romania's thighs, pausing only a moment to slick up his cock, sliding his hand between them.
Romania grasped him, stroked him until he moaned, then guided him in.
Netherlands' hair was mussed, all out of order, a few strands falling in his face. His eyes fluttered shut as he eased his way in.
Romania wrapped his arms and legs around him and arched up to kiss him.
He'd missed this. Hell, the both of them knew it. He'd missed the press of Netherlands' lips, the way it felt to wrap strands of his hair around his fingers and give it a good tug, tight enough to make him groan. The heat rolling off him, the quick hard thrust of his hips that Romania kept rocking up to meet. It was impossible to be closer than this.
Gripping at him, Romania gasped against Netherlands' mouth as he rocked into him again. Raked his nails across his scalp and felt more than heard his muffled moan.
He wanted it to last, but it seemed Netherlands had other ideas. Breaking the kiss, he moved lower to graze Romania's throat again, shifting as he did so, moving to grip at his hips to thrust hard and deep and fast. That was the end of it – that slick tongue against his neck, the strong hands at his hips, thumbs pressed hard against the bones. He didn't even have to touch himself. Nobody could last under all that.
But at least Netherlands didn't take much longer either. Romania clung to him all through it, and didn't let go until he was finished.
They rested side by side after that, quiet aside from rushed, heavy breathing that eventually slowed. It was dark in the room, nothing but a sliver of light slipping in through the curtains. Not enough to see by.
Romania stared up at the ceiling and listened to Netherlands' content sighing and the sound of vehicles passing on the street outside.
It was hard to know what to say at times like this. Oh, he could think of something, sure. But it wouldn't necessarily be the right thing. Even if it was the truth.
Everything he thought of was deeply affectionate, more than was strictly appropriate for the situation. Or for who the two of them were. Or both.
He could say 'I missed you,' - and it was true. Romania thought about that for a moment, then pushed the thought away. Maybe it was better not to come across as too much of a romantic. Netherlands would probably find it too sappy.
As Netherlands slid his arms around him and pulled him close, Romania decided not to say anything about it at all.
"Should get cleaned up," Netherlands murmured, showing sign of moving.
"Guess so." But instead of sliding out of his grip, Romania cuddled up closer to him. "It's not that late. We don't have to get ready for sleep right away."
It was bullshit; Romania had no idea what time it was. By the way Netherlands kissed him, lips curling into a smile, he knew he felt the same.
It was late in the morning when they finally left Bucharest. Later than they'd planned for, at least. At first, Romania hadn't realized something was wrong; but when he woke, glanced at the alarm clock, and suddenly realized that he hadn't set it – well. That explained why he felt so rested.
When Netherlands stirred beside him, murmuring a question about what time it was, Romania gave the answer straight out. Netherlands cursed in response, but cuddled up to him all the same.
It wasn't a big deal. They had all the time in the world. Or at least, they had enough time that they could take their time, and that was good enough.
Leaving the city behind them felt good.
"It might take us a while to get there," he warned Netherlands as they packed up his car for the drive.
"It's fine," was the reply. A pat on the shoulder punctuated it. "We can talk along the way."
And they could avoid the inefficiencies of public transport, though neither of them mentioned that. Netherlands had heard Romania complain about the state of his train system more than once.
Besides, there was the simple fact of privacy.
It was so much easier to have a conversation as their true selves if there was nobody around to hear it. Humans listening in could complicate things.
"Go ahead and sleep for a while if you want," Romania said, glancing at Netherlands as they settled into the car. "I don't mind."
They had a long drive ahead of them. Even if they took every short cut Romania knew of, it'd still take most of the day to get where they were going – and that was with taking traffic and sheep into account.
Beside him, Netherlands shifted in his seat, resting back a bit. "I could drive for part of the way," he offered. "If you tell me which roads to take."
Oh god, Romania thought. That's exactly what I need. His blood ran cold at the thought of Netherlands trying to navigate his roads, even with Romania himself beside him, giving directions.
And that wasn't even getting into the problem of everyone and everything else on the road.
He laughed it off, shaking his head a bit. "Nah, I'm fine. Besides, when was the last time you drove anywhere?"
"...Well -"
"And bicycles definitely do not count."
There was a long pause. A kind of 'well, you got me there' pause.
Romania smirked. "Just leave it to me," he said, letting Netherlands off the hook.
He let his hand fall to rest between them. After a second, Netherlands covered it with his own, their fingers knitting together. There was that tight feeling again. Funny, how it could pop up at moments like this.
Getting out of the city was business as usual: a familiar barrage of traffic, honking, and signals existing as merely a suggestion. Typical though it was, that didn't stop Romania from muttering curses near-constantly. Netherlands, for his part, barely said a word, though more than once Romania heard him catch his breath as they rushed their way through traffic.
One glance showed him pale-faced and white-knuckled. Romania snorted and turned his attention back to the road.
"Glad I won't be taking your offer?"
"...Yes."
Nothing more needed to be said.
It was a long drive, but Netherlands weathered it well enough after they got out of the city. After an hour, he managed to settle, relaxing a bit in the passenger seat, no longer looking like he'd have a heart attack at any given moment, though Romania did hear him suck in a sharp breath now and then.
That was good, Romania reflected, because they had a lot of hours ahead of them.
It wasn't as if Romania hadn't warned him. "It'll take a while, but it's the best way to get there," he'd promised. "And the view from the car will be great."
And he meant that. Every word.
Winding highways. Mountains rising up around them. Romania had come this way so many times, and the drive was second nature to him. They talked for a while, but eventually both of them quieted, leaving Romania with his eyes on the road and Netherlands with his gaze directed out the window.
Romania bit his tongue and shoved the questions down. He wondered what it would be like to see this place for the first time: the road snaking its way through the mountains, the peaks, the bright colours of forest and fields as they passed.
He wanted to say, 'You've seen part of me, and this is the rest; don't forget that I'm both'. Or 'Sorry the trip is so long, but I wanted to show you some of the most beautiful parts of me'. But he kept it in, kept his mouth shut.
The thing was, Romania reasoned, if Netherlands didn't quite feel as serious about all this, it'd be awkward. It was so much, so fast. But if he did feel the same, and he understood everything, well... Then there was no need to say it, was there? So he reached over, squeezed his hand. Felt the reassurance as he squeezed back.
There was no point in complicating things.
The day went on just as they expected. Stopped a few times to get out and stretch their legs. And have a smoke, in Netherlands' case. Always, his eyes were on the surroundings – the mountains, the trees, the horizon, as if he were measuring it all up. There was something analytical about the way he took it all in. Romania wasn't sure what to think about that.
They took their time when they stopped for lunch, opting to take it outside because the weather was good. Romania had spread the map out on the table, weighing it down with their coffee cups. Tracing the route, he explained a few things.
"Okay, we're here. And we're going to end up..." His fingertip slid along mountain roads and through countryside. "...Here. We'll get in at around suppertime, or maybe a little later. I think."
"You think?"
"It depends on a few things. How the roads are doing. And traffic. And other things."
Netherlands grunted acknowledgement. Apparently that answer was good enough for him. He let that be, and lifted his gaze up to the sky. Romania watched. The smoke coiled around him, then drifted gently up, disappearing. Beneath the table, their feet brushed against each other. It was good.
'I think' proved to be a necessary statement. The roads themselves weren't too bad. Getting stuck behind flocks of sheep was another thing. After the third sheep-related delay, Romania bit back a sigh, wondering if he should have budgeted more time for this.
Netherlands, mercifully, didn't comment. When Romania glanced at him, he only raised an eyebrow, and let it be. He had warned him.
Delays or not, there was still light outside when they finally made it. As they drove through the village, the sunlight was golden, spilling everywhere, all over the houses and hedges and gates. Beyond that were fields dotted with haystacks, and rearing above them, the mountains.
Romania's property was small and well-kept. Plain and simple – the sort of place that didn't have much more than the necessities. The kind of place that somebody might sneak off to when they wanted nothing more than a little bit of peace and quiet.
It didn't take that long to haul everything in from the car. Start setting things up. Then he left Netherlands to his own devices. By the look of him, he could tell that he needed a moment to decompress. After a day stuck in a car, who wouldn't?
All it took was a few words, nothing more to get him to agree that a bit of a breather was a good idea. Then Romania slipped out. Nipped down the road to the neighbour's place, thanking her for keeping an eye on his house while he was away. She pressed on him bread and eggs and cheese, and a bottle of tuica too, and made him promise – soon – to introduce her to his friend.
Netherlands was unpacking when he returned.
"Leave supper to me," Netherlands said, nodding toward the stove.
Romania lifted an eyebrow as he set everything down on the table. "You're sure?" he asked, going over to put his arms around Netherlands' waist. "I wouldn't mind doing it, I -"
"You've been driving the whole damn day." Netherlands' response was gruff, but his hands moved to cover Romania's, and it was clear that the meaning wasn't what it sounded like. "Let me look after this."
Romania considered that. Then he moved closer, letting his head fall to rest against Netherlands' shoulder, closing his eyes as he took in the sounds. Slow breathing. Birdsong outside. The creak of the floorboards as Netherlands shifted from one foot to the other.
Netherlands said 'Let me look after this' as if what he actually meant was 'Let me look after you'.
Who could say no to that? "If that's how you're going to be about it, then I don't mind," he said, grinning as he spoke.
Those warm hands squeezed his own. "Sure." Though he couldn't see it, the smile was obvious in Netherlands' voice. "It'll be the real gourmet shit."
Romania laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything else."
The 'gourmet shit' turned out to be simple, quick, more like breakfast food than a proper supper. But after a day of travel, literally anything would have tasted delicious.
Sunlight still lingered when they set out that evening, walking together down old footpaths. The air smelled like cut grass and green things.
Neither of them said much. They kept quiet, walking close, but not touching. Romania's shadow was long, but Netherlands' was longer, completely covering his if they stood in just the right way.
"We could go into the mountains tomorrow," Romania said. "If you want, I mean. I know you aren't much for hiking or anything, but..."
A soft snort at that remark, but Netherlands didn't deny it. "I guess we could take a look. Get some pictures."
"We could make a day of it."
"You could show me your... mountains." The if you know what I mean lingered unsaid.
Romania snickered, giving Netherlands a little shove. That sounded good to him – in either sense of the term.
They were too tired to do anything by the time they made it back to the house. All they managed was put down sheets and strip their clothes off. They fell into each other's arms, dozed almost as soon as they hit the mattress.
Morning came like a slap upside the head. Romania had forgotten to pull the curtains shut the night before, and that's what they got for it: sunlight right in the eyes. While Netherlands pulled the blanket over his head and groaned, Romania slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen.
For a while he stood there, palms flat against the kitchen counter, listening. Outside, the garden was full of song. It was nothing like the sounds of the city, all the noise that Bucharest made when it was waking up.
He opened the window and breathed in the clear morning air. Then he set about getting everything ready.
By the time Netherlands dragged himself out of bed, Romania had already packed lunch. It didn't hurt to be prepared.
Netherlands took his sketchbook with him.
Romania hadn't even known he'd packed it. Hadn't expected him to bring it on this trip. Or any others. The few times Romania had seen him with it, he had been visiting Netherlands' place. But this time – it must have been because he knew they would be spending time out in the country. Somewhere picturesque. Or whatever you called it when somebody kept asking to stop so he could jot down some lines, capture everything on the page.
It was... different.
Romania slipped a book into his backpack along with their lunch. Every time they stopped, he took it out, and read. Or pretended to read. In truth, he couldn't concentrate on it, and wasn't really pretending to, anyway. His gaze kept getting pulled over to Netherlands.
He liked watching his hands move. And the way his eyes narrowed a bit in concentration as he worked. The soft huff as he took a drag on his cigarette, pausing to look at whatever it was that he was trying to capture – a tree, a cliff, the peak of a mountain against the sky – before turning his attention to the page again.
"Going to have to bring paints some time," Netherlands muttered when they stopped once again.
"Oh?" Romania asked, looking up from where he sat unpacking their lunch.
"Yeah." A pause, nothing but the sound of pen scratching on page. "Can't do much with what I've got here. Paint's better for catching the light."
"I see," Romania replied, even though he didn't. He shrugged, and went back to unpacking, setting out thermos and sandwiches. "You should draw me."
Netherlands snorted. "I already am," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he showed him the sketchbook page, mountains picked out in black.
Romania laughed. Fair enough.
But later on, when they continued on their hike after lunch, Netherlands stopped him again. Tapped Romania's shoulder. Gestured to a sunny spot, with trees dipping branches down and a view of the valley in the background. "Sit here," he said, then went to take out his sketchbook.
Romania's brows lifted. He hadn't expected him to take his suggestion seriously. "Okay," he said, slipping his backpack off and setting it down. "How do you want me?"
"Whichever way is comfortable." A gesture out toward the view. "But facing that way."
Romania went. Plunked himself down. Shifted a little to get comfortable.
Then he waited.
He heard the click of a camera as Netherlands took a picture, then pages flipping. Then quiet, nothing but the sound of birdsong and rushing leaves and pencils scratching on paper.
"You can talk if you want," Netherlands muttered, sounding half-distracted. "Just don't move around too much."
"Fine," Romania replied. But he didn't say anything at first; just kept looking out, resting back on his palms.
He wondered if Netherlands saw what he saw. No doubt looking out at those mountains, and farmland and slim winding roads below, didn't mean as much to him as it did to Romania, but maybe he understood it. Sort of. Except -
"I guess you can't look down at your place like this, since you're so flat. Right?"
There was a pause, the scratching on the page suddenly quiet. A nod, maybe, or maybe not. Romania waited, fighting the desire to turn around and look at him.
Finally, there was the click of pencils against each other, and a soft grunt of acknowledgement. "No. Highest I could get for a damn long time was a church tower. Or the mast of a ship." More scratching. "This's different."
"Oh?"
"Looking at you like..." Another pause, like he was waving at it all, the expanse rolling out beyond them. "All this. I like it."
Romania felt his cheeks heating a little. It had to be because of the sunlight. Yeah, that must be it, he told himself. "I see," he said.
And he did.
The rest of the day went much the same, except that the stops, unlike when they first began, involved Netherlands asking Romania to sit for him. Sometimes he'd wave a hand to a particular spot, but other times he'd give more specific instructions. "Sit there. Turn your head like – yeah, like that. Hold it there."
And the photos. If Netherlands wasn't drawing, he was taking pictures. Romania asked him if he liked what he saw, and Netherlands murmured something about the light being just right.
The ride back was long, but good. Romania let his hand fall to rest against Netherlands'. Their fingers linked, and stayed that way.
He ached to ask him what he thought. If he'd had a good time. If he'd liked what he saw. Not that Romania was so concerned about it most of the time. But having someone look at him with an artist's eyes, wandering all over his landscape, had been kind of unnerving. It left him feeling like he'd been stripped bare.
Later that night, they sat playing cards together. The light coming in from the windows was enough to squint by, but they'd lit candles to give more. They cast a soft glow over Netherlands' face as Romania watched him from across the table. At a gesture, Netherlands slid the bottle of tuica over. No need to bother with glasses when it was only the two of them.
A breeze blew through the window, bringing the night air and the scent of grass. The candles flickered, but held.
Romania grinned as Netherlands put his cards down in defeat. "I win," he said, his voice drawling. The warm, hazy feeling probably had more to do with the long, busy day than the victory, but damn, did it ever feel nice.
"You win," Netherlands agreed. He huffed, and shuffled their cards back into the deck.
"Another game?"
"Not when you're looking so smug about it."
"Fine, fine." Romania sat back in his chair. Thought for a moment. He nudged Netherlands under the table with his foot. "I could read your cards if you want," he said, nodding to the deck of playing cards nestled in Netherlands' hands.
"Yeah? I thought you needed special cards for that."
"Nah. Normal ones are fine. All it means is that you need to keep the reading simple."
Netherlands looked skeptical, the way he always did at the mention of magic. But then he shrugged, and nodded.
A smile spread over Romania's face. He was learning.
At Romania's instructions, Netherlands shuffled the deck, then handed it over. Picked three cards when Romania offered him the lot, fanned out, face-down.
"Okay," Romania said, placing them face down on the table. "What we have here is past, present, and - " he tapped the final card - " future." He smiled as Netherlands sat back, arms folded over his chest, preparing to be amazed. "Let's see, now..."
"Don't you just make it up?" Netherlands said, interrupting before Romania could even turn over the first card.
"Well, I could. Especially if I was reading for a stranger. Sometimes you need to fish a little to find out what the cards or saying. Or what the person you're reading for is really asking, rather than what they say they're looking for. But I'll have you know -" Romania tapped the card for emphasis, "I have a 90% success rate." He smiled again, and kicked at Netherlands' foot under the table. He got a kick back for it, sure, but it was followed by a mutter to go ahead.
He turned the first card over. "Five of hearts. Disappointment and unhappiness. You lost something, and it took a while to get over it. Maybe you had some regrets." He glanced up at him. "But remember, we're talking the past, here."
Netherlands frowned, staring at it, eyes narrowing a bit. "Sure." A pause. "You could say this about any of us." His gaze lifted from the card to meet Romania's eyes.
"True," Romania conceded. "It's kind of hard to read for people like us, since we've lived so many lives, but..." He shrugged. "I'm trying to read you. Now, come on, let me get on with it."
The second card was the ace of hearts.
"Guess I didn't shuffle it enough," Netherlands muttered.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Romania said. He ran his thumb along the edge of the card thoughtfully. "We were playing with them before, remember. And you didn't put them back in order. So whatever this is, it isn't because of that."
Netherlands huffed. "Fine. So that's it mean?"
"This one's for where you are now. It represents happy beginnings, new opportunities... Things aren't perfect, but you're doing pretty well for yourself, especially in comparison to some earlier times." Romania slid the past and present cards together, five nestled against the solitary one. "Now, remember – I'm not really talking about economics and stuff."
"No?"
"That'd be diamonds. But hearts are for the heart." As Netherlands rolled his gaze toward the ceiling, Romania laughed. "And sometimes for the head. Emotional things. Relationships. Hell, it could even be talking about independence, considering who you are. But I'll let you think about it a little."
"Relationships?"
"Right. Any kind. Not only romance," he added hastily. "Though it could be. And next..."
Romania flipped over the last card, then paused, staring at it.
The two of hearts sat there on the table, warm in the glow from the candles. It seemed to rest quietly, the bright red hearts on its face making no attempt to dim themselves, as if they knew that they said everything that needed to be said.
Romania cleared his throat. "Uh..."
"So, what's it mean?"
Netherlands was grinning. He had that smug look he sometimes got when he was the one in control of the situation.
Romania could feel heat spread over his cheeks. Well, he told himself, with a card like that, it wasn't as if it would be hard to figure out what it meant, even for someone who doesn't know a thing about reading tarot.
"Well" he said, trying to will the blush away, without much success. "It can mean, um. Mutually beneficial connections. If I were doing this reading for, y'know, you in your role as a nation, I'd say it's probably talking about our business partnerships."
"You're biased."
"Sure."
"You're also doing a reading for me as myself."
"Right." Romania swallowed. Netherlands still looked amused. Is it hot in here, Romania thought, or is it just me? There was something about the warmth of the candlelight, the way the shadows played on the angles of his face. "To the extent that it's possible to read only for you, that is. Which isn't much."
He looked at the card again. Grazed his fingers over the print on it. He could feel Netherlands watching him.
In his mind, he pictured the image that would usually grace the face of the card. Two people gazing into each other's eyes, grasping cups of love. "I think you can guess what this one really means."
"I might. Or maybe it's a coincidence," Netherlands offered.
Coincidence or fortune telling? What's the difference? Romania looked at him again. "Maybe it is," he said. "So?"
Netherlands looked thoughtful. Then he rose, and slipped to the other side of the table. One hand cupped Romania's face. He tilted his head up to meet him as Netherlands bent low to steal a kiss.
"We should go to bed," Netherlands muttered against his lips. As if it was a suggestion. As if Romania would do anything other than agree.
Romania grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him again. Yes.
They snuffed out the candles. Romania pushed him to the bedroom in the dark. Before they were halfway there, he decided he couldn't wait another second, and pressed Netherlands against a wall. Netherlands' mouth was hot on his own, kissing him firmly, like it was a challenge. And Romania took that challenge, sucking at his lip as he pinned him there, thigh pressing between his legs to push them apart.
That earned him a gasp of surprise that left Romania smirking against his lips, and for a second he thought of giving up comfort in favour of having him there, right there. But the image on the card was pressed into his mind, and as much as he liked the thought of sinking to his knees, maybe something more romantic would be better.
Fine.
He pulled away from Netherlands, and grabbed his hands, tugging him on toward the bedroom.
"Changed your mind?" Netherlands asked. His voice had a laugh in it.
"You're too tall. If I'm going to kiss you, I might as well be comfortable."
They both knew Romania wanted to do more than just kiss him.
Bedroom. Finally. Even a few seconds seemed too long. It was such a challenge to keep his hands steady as he worked at the buttons on Netherlands' shirt. Tempting to rip it off, send them flying. But Romania restrained himself, put up with the wait, which was only a few seconds anyway. Or it would have been if it weren't for Netherlands' mouth and hands, the way he kept kissing him, grabbing him by the hips to pull him close.
The fabric fell away, drifting from Netherlands' shoulders to pool at his elbows. Romania let his fingertips trail, sliding down, down along his chest, then lower, grazing over stomach and buttons and fabric until he cupped at his crotch, the groan Netherlands made in response muffled by his mouth.
"Take these off," Romania said, pulling away far enough to speak. "Then get onto the bed."
"Fuck." The word was a gasp. Netherlands' fingers tightened in Romania's hair as he ground his crotch against his hand. The hard shape of his cock beneath the fabric made it really clear that he thought of that idea. "You don't mess around," he panted.
"Sometimes." Romania dipped his head, trailing his lips along Netherlands' throat, which was both easier to reach and had the effect of making him jerk against him again. "I don't think you mind."
"Not one bit." Netherlands pulled away, looking like he might say something more, then thought better of it and moved to strip off his clothes.
Romania's hands wouldn't move fast enough. He tried to keep them steady, but they betrayed him, trembling as he did his best to slip buttons through holes, as if fate was trying to delay him a little bit longer.
When he looked toward the bed, he paused, hands stilling. Netherlands had sprawled out over it, waiting for him. The last of the evening light spilled through the window, washing warm colour over his body, as if inviting him to look. Watch. Stare. So he did. Let his eyes slide over that broad chest, those strong, muscular thighs. His cock flushed and heavy and thick.
He let himself take in every detail. Not that he'd never seen him before, but there was something about looking at him there, like this, that made it different. Left him breathless.
"Like what you see?" Netherlands grinned as he asked it, one hand dipping low to coil around his cock, giving it a slow stroke. Like he was offering himself. Or showing off. Probably both. Romania watched as his thumb swept over the head, and imagined following its path with his tongue.
"I think you can guess," he said, and resumed getting out of his clothing, his hands suddenly steady enough for the job, as if working faithfully because they knew what they'd get out of it later. "I'll bet you know exactly what I'm thinking."
A soft breath, sucked in, acknowledgement. "Yeah. I do." Nothing more than that. Those words said enough.
Two of hearts. You didn't need to be an expert to know what it meant. Connections. Attraction. Passion. And Romania had been with Netherlands more than long enough to understand him.
He went over to him. Bent down to kiss him. Slipped onto the bed, the springs creaking as he went. And then he was on him, skin against skin, mouth open for his tongue, gasping as long fingers coiled in his hair. His hands splayed out over Netherlands' chest, trailing fingertips everywhere, drawing a groan out of him from the teasing. Suddenly what he wanted more than anything else was to touch him – everywhere.
He broke the kiss. Pushed Netherlands down against the pillow. Normally Netherlands would make some comment, but this time he only looked up, eyes warm and curious, asking without words what he had in mind.
Romania grazed his lips against his cheek, and dipped his head lower.
Over his throat, over his collarbones, over his chest, with lips and hands and tongue. It would be a lie to say that Romania didn't grin with satisfaction at the curse that slipped out of Netherlands' mouth when he ducked his head to lick at his nipples. Then down, down, fingertips sliding along stomach, along the hard line of his hip.
Those hands were in his hair again, guiding him now. His grip was sure and firm, knowing how far he could go with it. Romania let him, following his lead, mouth trailing down his body, lower and lower.
He let his mouth do the work. Lips and tongue sliding, stroking along the shaft, then up along the head to where he could taste how eager he was, the hint of slick beading there. His hands fell to Netherlands' thighs, fingers sprawled as he trailed his palms along them. They were muscular and strong and more than once he'd wanted to get himself off against them, rutting shamelessly between them.
Another time, maybe. Netherlands was getting impatient. He was the kind of guy that could only take so much teasing, not that Romania blamed him. Lips parted, he took him into his mouth, careful with the teeth – even if he knew Netherlands didn't mind it when things got a bit rough – and that wide palm slid to the back of his head, guiding him down.
Fuck. It was a lot. Even after all this time, it was a lot. Romania closed his eyes and worked at it, dipping his head slowly. He could feel Netherlands moving to brush the hair out of his face. The better to see him. The better to watch. The better to take in the intimacy of that moment and the wet, slick heat of his mouth on his cock.
Romania dug his fingers into Netherlands' thighs and groaned.
He wanted him. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted Netherlands to touch him. All of the above. And maybe, he told himself, Netherlands isn't the only impatient one here.
It was Netherlands who guided him away, and then up, low rough words asking him to come up here. And when he did, Netherlands kissed him, fierce and desperate and hungry.
He didn't have to wait long after that.
It wasn't long before he was sprawled over his lap, thighs spread wide. Hands gripping the headboard as Netherlands slid his thick fingers into him. Looking down at Netherlands, who looked back with eyes hazy and cheeks flushed.
"Hurry up," Romania breathed. "I don't have all night."
"For that, I should slow down," Netherlands muttered.
"Not tonight."
"No."
"Another night." Romania smiled.
"You just want to get on with it." From the pillows, Netherlands grinned up at him.
"I just want to ride you like a... Hell, I don't know. Like a bike."
Netherlands snorted. "Pretty fucking weird bike," he said, eyes flickering with amusement as he eased his fingers out of him all the same.
"Come on, you know what I mean."
If Netherlands had anything to say to that, he had second thoughts about it, because he shut up as soon as Romania guided his cock inside of him. A sharp breath, and nothing else as Romania began to move.
Romania didn't say anything either. He didn't have to. Just let his eyes drift partially shut, and lost himself in everything. The sensation of Netherlands' cock inside of him. Strong hands, one gripping his hip, the other sliding between them to stroke him, moving in time with the jerk of his hips. Their rushed breathing, the way the bed creaked with their movements, Netherlands thrusting up to meet him.
He wanted to keep that moment, and hold on to hold on to the sight of him – flushed, looking up at him, hair plastered to his forehead, the last of the light touching his face.
Romania bent to kiss him.
Neither of them lasted long. Because of the teasing. Or the wait. Or the fact that they both wanted each other so much. It didn't really matter.
After they were done Romania slid off of Netherlands' body, stretching out beside of him. He closed his eyes, not wanting to move yet. His body would ache in the morning, between the day's hike and the sex, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.
Lips brushed against his cheek. Romania tilted his head to meet them.
"That was..." A huff of breath as Netherlands paused, groping for the words. He kissed him instead of elaborating.
"Good," Romania offered, murmuring it against his lips. The word was too simple, not enough. But it was the best he could think of.
"Yeah," Netherlands agreed. "Good." Another kiss. Soft. Lingering. It said everything.
They didn't go to sleep. Couldn't. Tired though they were, it wasn't the right time yet. They cleaned themselves up and went out into the garden.
Lanterns and candles. Tuica and cigarettes. Romania set cards down for a game of solitaire while Netherlands watched his smoke spiral up toward the clear, starry sky, his expression quiet and thoughtful.
Romania paused when he pulled the two of hearts. He stared at it, running his fingers along the bright red design. That reading had been something else. He'd remembered the spark, the way it had felt just right. Now, it was only a card. But even so.
"What's on your mind?" Netherlands muttered.
"Oh, well." Romania laughed, then showed the card to him.
A huff. More smoke. A long drag on the cigarette. Netherlands gestured for him to give it over, and Romania passed it to him without a word.
For a moment, Netherlands stared at it in silence. His face looked relaxed in the candlelight, the cherry of his cigarette bright orange in the evening's dark. "And you believe in this?" he asked. Not judging. Just curious.
At any other time, he might have gone into how it isn't belief if you know. But Romania put that thought away. It wasn't the right time for technicalities. "Yes," he said. "I do."
Another long pause. Another look at the card, as if trying to read it. Then a short nod. "Fair enough," Netherlands said. He handed it back, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Small, but genuine. "I could get used to this."
Maybe it wasn't the most romantic way to put it. But as far as Romania saw it, that was fine.
He knew what Netherlands meant.