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Entry tags:
Going crazy trying to stay cool [Romania/Norway]
Title: Going crazy trying to stay cool
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Romania/Norway
Rating: 18+
Length: 6k
Summary: Whenever he goes out with Norway, Romania knows exactly what he has in mind.
Other: Written in 2019. Finished for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
iddyiddybangbang. Beta-read by Orpheous87 to fulfill the services I won from them in Fandom For Australia. Thanks! [Ao3 version]
Going crazy trying to stay cool
The night was cool and dark, and the air was sharp. Romania's breath fogged as he stood and looked up at the sky, waiting in the warm glow of a street lamp beside a memorial to a person he'd never heard of.
Around him, people walked, chattering between themselves. Sometimes in French. Mostly in English. This city was one he didn't know at all. He found it unbearably neat, tidy, and polished, as if the people who lived here didn't have a care in the world. It wasn't true – things were never actually the way that they looked. But as Romania stood there waiting, he couldn't help but feel very out of place.
Well. His stay in this city would be a short one, at least.
It was important to come to world meetings. There was something to be said about showing your face, even if nothing ever got done at those things and there were always so many complaints about the pointlessness of it all. Sometimes, others would notice you. And sometimes, the company was worth it.
He'd received a text from Norway before either of them made their trans-Atlantic flight, asking if he would be there.
There wasn't any reason that Norway would need to know this, no official cause for him to be interested in whether Romania would be there or not. Politically and economically, Norway wouldn't care one bit. But he'd asked, and that told Romania everything he needed to know. Or at least, it gave him something to hope for.
He told him he'd be there, but hadn't added that he'd be happy to see him.
Partway through the first day of the meeting, Norway sent him another text. They hadn't even had a chance to speak to each other at that point. Romania had only been able to catch his eye from across the room before France came up to Norway and took hold of his attention, and it was clear that they'd be talking for some time. Half an hour later, Norway's name came up on Romania's phone.
Are you free for dinner tonight? My treat.
Romania had grinned when he read that. He'd guessed right about what Norway had been hinting at before they left, then. And knowing how this usually went, he could guess that their evening would turn out to be more than dinner.
With Norway, it was hardly ever just dinner.
Romania had packed strategically. Most of the clothes he'd brought were the usual attire; neatly-pressed business clothes. No point in getting too fancy. But he'd made sure to take a shirt in deep, rich red. He knew he looked good in it. The one time he'd worn it in Norway's company, Norway's eyes had kept wandering over to him, lingering in a way that they wouldn't with anyone else. He'd also been sure to wear his long coat, the one that nipped in close at the waist.
And then there were the boots. Smart and black, with shiny buckles and a bit of a heel on them. Not enough to draw attention. But he was roughly the same height as Norway, and a few centimetres were enough to give Romania a bit of height over him. Just enough to make Norway have to lift his gaze a little to look him in the eye. Hardly anything, really. But Norway had noticed that before, and seemed to like it.
Snowflakes fell, drifting lazily in the streetlights' glow. Romania shifted from one foot to the other, and waited.
Norway was late. Not by much, but it wasn't like him. He was the kind of guy that was usually exactly on time. Romania bit his lip and checked his phone again, wondering if he'd changed his mind. Nothing.
Finally, he saw him coming up the sidewalk. He was walking briskly, cheeks flushed a little, a frazzled expression on his normally settled face.
"Evening," Norway said. "Sorry about the wait. Got held up talking to someone what wouldn't take a hint."
Romania smiled. "It's fine. Denmark?"
"Nah. America." Norway lifted his hands, gently brushing a bit of snow from Romania's shoulders. "Still. Ought not to have kept you like this."
"Oh, I don't mind." Romania dipped his head a little, his cheeks flushing as Norway continued on to brush the snow from his shoulders as well. Norway had an awfully business-like expression as he went about it, but it was still an overly-friendly gesture coming from him, and the closeness didn't escape Romania's attention. "Besides, I've made you wait plenty of times."
"Fair enough." Norway stepped back, looked him over, and nodded as if satisfied that he'd made up for causing his date to wait out in the cold. Then he gestured down the street. "Come on, then. I know a good place."
They set off together into the dark, snowy night.
The restaurant that Norway chose didn't come as a surprise. It was tucked out of the way, and somebody could walk past it a dozen times and still not notice that it was there. Inside, it was quiet and intimate, the kind of place that cared about making sure people could hear each other across the table without raising their voices.
That was the kind of thing Norway liked. Quiet. Intimacy. If he couldn't have the quiet of his own home, he'd make do.
Romania had spent enough time with him that he knew the drill by now. They would have dinner, and that would be nice enough. Then they would go back to Romania's room together and 'enjoy each other's company,' as Norway would put it.
And that was the strange part. Norway did seem to want company – both the ordinary kind, and the sort that involved taking each other's clothes off.
There was nothing unusual about that, exactly. But Romania had to admit, even though he did like the time they spent together, he was always a little surprised when Norway asked him out, of all people.
There were other nations in Norway's life, after all. Closer ones. Nations that he had actual reasons to speak to.
Don't question it, Romania told himself. Just enjoy it.
So, he didn't question it. He let himself relax, and the evening came easily. It helped that the food was good, and the local wine better than expected, and that the looks Norway gave him across the table were warm and affectionate, promising more. Romania let himself talk, making sure to stay away from anything important, sticking only to light topics. And after a while, Norway looked as relaxed as he was, lips tilting into a smile, then slipping into a laugh when Romania said just the right thing.
It was satisfying, seeing him like that. Norway wasn't the kind of person to laugh easily; it was a challenge to make it happen. Knowing that he could get that kind of reaction out of him made Romania feel warm from his head to his toes.
"D'you have plans for this summer?" Norway asked toward the end of the supper, when the plates had been cleared and they were on the last of the wine. Their hands met on top of the table, Norway gently stroking over Romania's knuckles with the pads of his fingers.
"No? I mean..." Romania swept his tongue over his teeth, reconsidering his words. "I'll have to check. Why?"
"My place is nice that time of year. Could visit for a while. If you like."
He knew what Norway was hinting at. And it wouldn't be the first time that one of them had visited the other's actual home. Three years ago, Romania had hosted the world meeting, and had invited Norway to stay beyond that. An invitation which he'd – surprisingly – accepted. After official business was all over with, they'd spent a few days in Romania's countryside, hiking and relaxing and having very good sex. It had turned out even better than he'd hoped.
But that had been Romania's place. Norway's was different. Colder, more distant. And it wasn't exactly cheap.
As if sensing his thoughts, Norway went on. "Not in Oslo. That flat I have there's just for when there's business keeping me in the city. I mostly live at my place out in the country."
"Oh?" It made sense. Norway didn't seem like the type to want to spend more time in the city than necessary. Not with his love of privacy and quiet. "I think I'd like to see it."
"'Good. " Norway grazed his fingertips over Romania's hand again, as if to emphasize it. "Not much going on out there, mind you. But it's right cozy. And there's some nice views."
Romania smiled. "I'll think about it," he said. But he knew that he wouldn't have to do much thinking at all. As he felt Norway's foot brushing against his under the table, he was sure that Norway realized this, too.
Suddenly, Norway's eyes darted to the side. He abruptly removed his hand and his foot, putting on a business-like face for the waitress, who appeared a moment later. As if only seconds ago, there hadn't been anything happening between them at all.
It was always like that.
Romania let him settle up the bill without comment. He missed the warmth from Norway's hand, but after a few years of meeting with him like this, he knew by now that it wasn't meant as a slight. Norway was an intensely private person, and touch like that was a level of intimacy that he didn't want anyone passing by to see, even if they were in a place where nobody would comment on it.
When they stepped out into the fresh air together, Romania took a good look at Norway. He was tidy as always, his hair immaculate. There was a slight flush to his cheeks, just a hint of pink. It could have been from the wine or the pinch of the cold air. Either way, it was a good look on him.
As they headed toward the hotel together, Romania put his arm around Norway's shoulders, leaning in close to speak to him. "So. Your room or mine?" he asked, letting himself settle into a smile.
Norway tensed under the touch but relaxed almost as quickly, and while he didn't lean in against Romania, he didn't pull away either. He knew that to any outside observer, it wouldn't look like a private moment – it would only look like one friend asking the other where to go next.
"Well, now." Norway glanced to him, looking as if he understood everything. "Yours, thanks."
"You're sharing again?"
"'S right." A small smile. "So it'll have to be yours. If we're to have time to ourselves, that is."
"Sure," Romania said. And he released Norway from his hold, casual as anything. Though he really would have preferred to be able to keep him there, with his arm around Norway's shoulders, holding him close. Or holding his hand, knitting their fingers together.
But that wasn't the kind of guy that Norway was. It was too much, too private. So Romania shoved his hands in his pocket, keeping them to himself for the time being.
Romania managed to rein in any further gestures of affection until the moment they slipped inside his hotel room. As soon as they were completely alone, he turned to Norway and wrapped his arms around him.
Norway's hands found his hips and settled there, gripping him nice and secure through his long coat. Then he leaned against the door and pulled Romania close.
The suddenness of it made him gasp, but Norway put an end to that with a firm kiss.
Pressed against him, hip to hip, Romania braced himself with his palms on the door, using his body and the slight bit of height he had on him to trap Norway there. And as he did so, he let Norway draw it out. Let him linger. If past experience was anything to go by, Norway had been thinking about this all night.
When the kiss broke, they were both quiet for a moment. He rested his cheek against Norway's, closing his eyes as he listened to the sound of him breathing. Long. Slow. Content.
His breath caught as Norway sneaked his hands up between them. Moving slowly, taking his time with it, Norway carefully undid each button on Romania's coat, then trailed his fingers over the soft fabric of his shirt.
"Glad we were able to go out tonight," Norway said, tilting his head up to speak near Romania's ear, his voice soft and low.
Romania made a quiet noise in reply, almost a sigh. "It was nice," he said, understating things to match how Norway had put it. But there had been something in Norway's voice that hinted toward something else in that way that he sometimes had of implying things without saying them.
Whatever secret meaning Norway might have been getting at suddenly became less important as Norway murmured, "We ain't done yet, are we?" by his ear, and took his earlobe between his lips.
Romania gasped. Pressed his eyes shut tight. It was crazy how such a little thing could have such an effect on him – and Norway knew exactly what he was doing. When Romania pulled back far enough to stare him down, he saw that Norway looked smugly satisfied – or as smug as somebody could look while blushing, anyway.
"So," Romania said. "D'you want to do this against the door, then?" There was a laugh in his voice, teasing as he moved to kiss Norway's cheek. "Or would the bed be better this time?"
More than once, they'd sacrificed comfort in favour of the rush of getting to business quickly, with clothes drawn up and pushed down just enough for hands to slide beneath fabric. He'd turn Norway roughly around, pressing him against whichever flat surface was available so they could get at what they both wanted. But tonight, he had a feeling that sloppy and rough wasn't what Norway had in mind.
"Bed sounds good." Norway grazed his lips over Romania's cheek, lingering there. "...How did you know sex was what I was after, anyhow?"
"Uh..." Well, that threw him for a loop. "I guessed?" Romania asked, running his hands up and down Norway's sides. He doubted much of that could be felt through Norway's coat, but he liked the way it felt to hold him.
Norway's question had been hesitant, and Romania really did wonder why he had asked. By now, there was no reason to assume anything else. Every time they'd gone out together, it had been with the expectation that they'd end the night with sex. If it weren't for that, why would Norway even ask him out?
If Norway had any idea about what was running through Romania's head, he didn't give any sign of it. He rested back against the door, looking at Romania with a slight smile on his face, the barest hint of his lips turning up at the corners. "It was a good guess," he said, sprawling his fingertips over Romania's chest. He had to tilt his head up a bit to meet him in the eye. By the look on his face, he'd noticed that – and liked it. "Anyhow. Since you've gone and asked... Let's get to bed."
"You're sure you don't want to be sore tomorrow?" Romania's voice was light, teasing even as he drew away to give himself enough space to unbutton Norway's coat. Though Norway rolled his eyes, Romania could have sworn that the blush on his cheeks deepened a little.
"No," Norway said, but not after seeming to take a second to think about it. "Rather not, thanks."
They shrugged off their coats and scarves. Stuffed gloves in their pockets. As Romania bent to take off his boots, Norway stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.
"Let me," he said.
"What?" Romania asked, straightening up to look at him, wondering if Norway had changed his mind. But he'd no sooner asked than Norway was gently guiding him toward the bed.
"Let me do that for you," Norway repeated. His gaze dropped to Romania's feet. "Would like to get a better look at those, anyhow."
Well. In that case, Romania wasn't about to argue. Not when he'd taken the time to get picky about his footwear.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. Watched as Norway sank down on one knee, taking hold of one of his feet. Norway slid his fingertips along the buckle, then upward along the leather until he reached the zipper, lingering there as if he just happened to be doing what he'd said he wanted to do – taking a look at them.
Then Norway glanced upward, meeting Romania's eyes, and it was clear that he had other things in mind.
His head dipped again. Low. Lower. Lower, until his mouth touched Romania's boot, still cupped securely in Norway's steady hand.
Romania's breath caught. He felt decidedly unsteady. It wasn't as if he could feel the press of Norway's lips through the hard leather, but he knew exactly what was happening there.
When Norway glanced up at Romania again, his eyes were dark and unreadable. Then he moved again. Took the zipper between his teeth and pulled it down.
Romania licked his lower lip, trying to think of some snappy remark, trying to ignore the heat on his face and the stirring in his trousers.
Nothing presented itself, but that was probably for the better. Trying to be witty at a time like this would ruin the moment. It was better to watch.
As soon as Norway had that zipper down, he lifted his head again, his expression straight-faced despite what he'd just been doing. Then he attended to the other boot, going about it the normal way, apparently having had enough of surprises for the moment.
Romania held his tongue, sitting back so he could get a good look at him. He had to admit, while this wasn't at all something he had expected, he liked it. And when Norway took his socks off and gently rubbed at Romania's feet, he found himself thinking that what made it even better was that it was Norway, in particular, doing all this.
It wasn't unusual for Norway to be attentive in the bedroom. He always was. But this was something different.
"Didn't know you were into feet," Romania said. He smiled, making it clear that he was joking. Though for all he knew, there might be something to this beyond just service.
Norway glanced up at him. Raised an eyebrow. Then dropped his gaze again, returning his attention to what he was doing. "I ain't," he said quietly, massaging as he spoke.
"Oh, really?"
"Ought not to question everything."
Romania closed his eyes. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered asking about it, or commenting on it; there was no reason to question everything that everyone did, even if it was a bit different from the usual. Even if it was someone he'd been sleeping with.
But that didn't mean that he didn't wonder.
Soon, Norway moved. Stood, but only so he could bend down to kiss him. Romania sighed into the kiss, sliding his arms around Norway to draw him closer as Norway cupped at Romania's face, tilting it upward with his fingertips. It was easier for both of them that way. His hands were cold, the touch tender, and as Norway's fingertips brushed where his jaw met his throat, Romania felt his breath catch.
It was nothing new, but the self-sure way he did it made him shiver.
They parted, and for a moment they lingered, lips close, noses brushing. Then Norway straightened and nodded toward the bed.
They made themselves comfortable. Romania settled himself with his back to the headboard, and Norway straddled his lap, working at his tie and undoing buttons on his shirt between kisses.
This probably isn't the easiest way to do this, Romania thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning upwards in amusement as he settled his hands on Norway's waist. But by now, he knew that Norway liked taking his time with things, and he liked the way it felt when fingers dipped under fabric. If they took a little while with it, even if they had to rearrange themselves during the whole process... well, that was all right.
Not for the first time, he was struck by the similarity between their bodies. They were close in height, sure, but it didn't end there. He and Norway were both slim. Sturdy enough, but built lightly. Evenly matched.
Romania knew that he was different from most of Norway's partners. Not that he'd ever asked him about that, of course. But you didn't have to ask who Norway was seeing to know who he involved himself with.
Norway was a private person, but all it took was a pair of functioning eyes and ears to know who he chose to talk to. Who he stood a fraction closer to than others. Who he went off with after meetings. Nations loved to gossip, and Romania didn't mind listening.
Denmark was the obvious one. Sweden, too. And Romania knew that Norway'd been seeing Netherlands now and then. He'd even heard a rumour about him and Germany, and while that had been a bit surprising at first, the more he thought of it, the less surprising it was.
It was clear what Norway's preferences were. He liked his men tall and golden-haired, with muscles on top of their muscles. Romania was none of those things. He was absolutely the odd one out. But....
"Is something wrong?"
The words, soft by his ear, broke Romania's train of thought. He sucked in a breath, feeling heat spread over his cheeks. "No," he said, looking up at Norway as he drew away to give him a once-over. "I'm all right."
It must have come out a little too quickly because Norway gave him a sceptical look. "That so."
"Sure." Flashing a broad smile, he resumed what he'd been doing – sliding his hands along Norway's thighs, then back over his hips and ass. "Come on. How could anything be wrong right now?"
Norway frowned. The look that crossed his face wasn't annoyance, only doubt. "Looked like y'have summat on your mind, is all." His hand moved to settle over Romania's, holding it gently as he looked at him, expression searching.
"Well..." He hesitated. There was no way he could say what he was actually thinking about.
"Internal matter, is it?"
"You could say that."
Problems at home wasn't an unexpected answer. It wouldn't be the first time, and it was a logical enough one that it satisfied Norway. Romania watched as Norway brought his hand to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles.
"I see," Norway said. He paused, thinking it over. "Could help you get your mind off it, then. For a while."
"What, you have some ideas?"
Another kiss to his hand. "Yes." Then he kissed at his fingertips. Lingered there. Parted his lips just enough to take the tip of Romania's forefinger into his mouth, his damp tongue sweeping over it.
Romania swallowed, flushing deeply. "Well, I..."
"Please."
Norway's hands dropped to Romania's belt. Didn't move to undo it; only waited, steady as Norway's gaze as he watched Romania, patiently waiting for him to untie his tongue so he could respond.
"Yes." Somehow, Romania remembered how to speak. Miraculously, he managed to stop himself from bucking up, or grabbing Norway's hands and putting them exactly where he wanted them. "Sure. Just to start."
"Oh?" A raised eyebrow, as if Norway didn't know what would come after that, but the smile spreading over his lips said otherwise. "You'll want more after that?"
"I think you're here for something else."
Norway kissed him instead of answering, and that was fine.
They stripped the rest of their clothes. Norway took the time to fold everything neatly before they got down to business. Romania knew better than to comment on it. Not that he would, when so shortly after that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Norway bending to give him a brief kiss before sinking down to his knees.
Romania settled back and watched him. The soft light from the bedside table played on his face, made his sharp features look softer. His eyes fell shut as he went to work, his mouth soft and slick around Romania's cock, his pretty blond head bobbing up and down.
He took in the flush on his cheeks, the slow, methodical way he went about the whole thing. From the look of it, Norway was enjoying it almost as much as Romania was.
Well. Might as well let him, then. Romania let his eyes drift shut as he sank into the hot, wet sensation of Norway's lips and tongue. Listened to the soft huff of his breath, the way he sighed as he slowly moved to take him in completely.
Romania cracked his eyes open at that. Couldn't help but look. Watching as he withdrew, sweeping his tongue over the head. Then down again, moving slowly until he couldn't go any farther.
One hand was at Romania's hip. The other – Romania couldn't see it, but judging by how laboured Norway's breathing was, Romania could hazard a guess at its location. Just the thought of Norway touching himself made him moan.
He let him keep at it for a while. Since he was enjoying it so much. For a moment, Romania considered doing nothing else and leaving it at this – the hot, slick sensation of Norway's mouth, the way it felt to have those lips wrapped around his cock. He thought of coming in his mouth, making him swallow it all. Or of pulling out and finishing on his face. Breath catching, he considered it.
It would be a lie to say that Norway didn't have anything to do with it. The fact was, Norway had everything to do with it. Calm, cold, self-assured, steady and stable and rich Norway. Romania thought of him panting and looking up at him with those intense blue eyes, a streak of white splashed across his flushed cheeks.
With a groan, he reached down. Stroked Norway's face, silently asking him to stop. As Norway pulled back, looking up at him with eyes dark and hazy, Romania tried to find his words.
It took him a moment.
"If you keep going, you might end up disappointed," was all he managed.
"Oh?"
"Well... maybe not. I guess it depends on what you want."
Norway licked his lips, looking like he was thinking about it. Then he moved to stand, bracing himself with one hand on the mattress so he could press close and nose at his cheek and speak quietly by his ear. "It ain't just about me," Norway whispered, his breath fluttering over the shell of Romania's ear. "What're you after?"
It took Romania a moment to catch his breath. There was Norway, draped over him, hard cock pressed flush against his own, asking him what he wanted. It made thinking a little difficult. "I don't know," Romania admitted.
A soft kiss to his cheek. "Right, then. In that case... Reckon I'd like your cock in my ass, thanks."
Good grief, Romania thought. "I think I can manage that," he said. And then he kissed Norway so that he wouldn't have to say anything else.
It wasn't hard to get themselves rearranged. To get Norway onto his back, sprawled out on the bed. Soon Romania was in him, sinking into the heat of his body up to the hilt.
For a while, they were both quiet, nothing but the sound of their gasps and the bed creaking in time with Romania's thrusts. He moved slowly, savouring how good it felt to be balls-deep inside of Norway, with Norway's long limbs wrapped around him and his fingernails digging into Romania's shoulders. Even though everything else had been great, this never got old.
It was Norway who eventually spoke, panting his words. "Where was it you took me that one time?" he asked, blinking upward in the dim light.
Oh hell, Romania thought. You want to have a conversation now? Still, he slowed, thinking about it. "When do you mean?"
"When we were at your place. Out in the country."
"Maramureș?"
"That's it. Maramureș." Norway didn't say it quite right. His voice flattened the word in some places, made it roll in others, and to top it all off the act of fucking made him husky and breathless. "It was nice."
"I see." Romania thought about it. To the extent that he was capable of thinking, which at the moment wasn't much. "We could go there again sometime."
"Sounds good." Quiet sighed words. Nothing more than that for a moment or so. Then he gripped Romania by the hair and dragged him in for a kiss.
Romania allowed it. Let him do it. Kissed him hot and hard and open-mouthed, gasping against Norway's lips as Norway rocked up to meet him. Hissed as Norway's nails dug into his skin, sure to leave marks the next day.
He didn't mind a bit.
There seemed to be more to all this than just the sex. Maybe. It was hard to tell with Norway. It was always tricky to know exactly what he meant by anything.
Maybe it wasn't important to think about it. Not when he was moving in sharp snaps to thrust into Norway, breath quick and hair plastered to his forehead. Not when Norway was clinging to him with one hand and getting himself off with the other. It was hard to think about anything at all at a time like that.
He felt the orgasm building and slowed, wanting it to last. Norway let out a soft groan in protest, blinking up at him.
"Quit ditherin'," Norway muttered, panting. "I'm almost there."
"I'll take my time if I want," Romania said, somehow managing to get the words out. "You could always beg for it."
"Fuck you," Norway moaned. But there was a challenge in his eyes as he looked up at Romania, his cheeks flushed and his lashes low.
Romania grinned. "We already are," he said.
It was cheap, and he got some eye-rolling for that, but the huff of a laugh that Norway made, something more like a gasp, was worth it.
"Enough," Norway said, and pulled him down once more for a kiss.
Romania gave himself up to that, kissing him fiercely as he rocked into him. The sharp gasp Norway made against his mouth made him grin, flushing with satisfaction – or maybe it was from the sensation of being so, so close. He bit down on Norway's lower lip and felt – more than heard – him moan as he shuddered and came.
Fingernails raking their way across his scalp. Hips jerking up to meet him. Legs wrapped tight around him. And mouth against his, lips slick and wet, sure to feel tender after all that. Romania gave up and let himself come, groaning against Norway's eager mouth.
Slow, slow breathing, easing from sharp gasps to something easy and quiet. A sigh.
Romania rolled off Norway. Rested there on his back, staring up at the ceiling, sweat beading on his brow and hair plastered to his forehead.
He listened to the sounds Norway made; turning over beside him, breathing out a soft sigh as he moved to turn up the brightness on the lamp, then clean up.
"That was good," Norway said as if praising him and thanking him at once. Then he paused before continuing. "You're not bad at this."
"Not bad?" Romania laughed. Turned his head a little to watch him. He was combing his fingers through his hair, the lamplight casting a soft, warm glow on his pale skin, the shadows emphasizing the sharp bones in his hands. "What do you mean by that?"
Norway paused. His hands stilled. Like he needed a moment to think over how to say it, how to describe what he thought. "You're just right," he said finally, speaking carefully. "Not too rough. Not too much. And your cock is perfect."
Romania felt a smirk tugging at his lips, and didn't even try to stop it. "Oh really," he said, waggling his eyebrows when Norway looked over at him. "Well! I'm glad you like it so much."
Norway was smiling. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light. "I do," he said, dipping his head to kiss Romania's cheek. "There's such a thing as too much. But you ain't. I like that I can deepthroat you without gagging."
It sounded like he meant it. Romania returned the kiss, kept it soft. "Well, you aren't the only one, y'know," he said with a grin. "I like that too."
"Hmm." Norway dipped his head again. Nuzzled at him, sighing. "It's more than that. Bet you could fuck me twice in one night and I'd feel just fine the next day."
Jesus, Romania thought. There was something about the simple, matter-of-fact way that Norway put it that sent heat rising to his cheeks. "I see."
"Mmhm."
"It sounds like you only like me for my dick," Romania joked. Instantly, he knew that it hadn't been taken that way – Norway sent him a sharp, worried look, causing Romania to quickly add, "I know that's not it, though."
"You're sure, now?" That look was still there. Norway bit at his lower lip, teeth digging into flesh tender from kissing. "It isn't like that at all, understand."
"Yes. I'm sure."
Before Romania could say anything else, Norway draped himself over him. Bracketed his arms around Romania's head and moved to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. As if he needed to make sure for himself, or felt that he needed to reassure him somehow.
Romania wrapped his arms around him and kissed back.
There wasn't much to say after that. Only soft, cautious words whispered in each other's ears.
"I like you a lot, you know. Wouldn't spend time with you if I didn't."
"Don't worry about it. I know."
"Would you mind if I stayed the night, then."
"Not in the least."
They washed off together, pressed close under the warm stream of the shower. Then back to bed, nestling under the covers. Romania wrapped his arms around Norway and held him close, relaxing against the comfortable familiar shape of his body.
"So," he said after a while. "Maramureș."
"Yes. Or anywhere. If you'll have me, mind." Pointed nose nuzzling at his neck. A soft sigh. "Lots of pretty sights down at your place."
"Oh?"
"Been looking. A little." A poke to his ribs, as if to chastise him for not believing it. "But the tourist pictures only tell so much. There's more to you than that."
Romania felt something stir in him, something warm and strangely tight. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him that Norway was so interested, that he actually cared, but it did. "I'll take you anywhere you want," Romania said, sinking his fingers into Norway's hair, sliding them through soft strands still damp from the shower. "I bet I can come up with a few good places. And we can still go to your place, too, this summer. If you were serious about that."
"I was. 'Mean, I'd like that. ...I want to get to know you, understand. Proper." Norway sighed the words and let them sit, leaving it like that.
As if they didn't already know each other, Romania thought. Well. They 'knew' each other, sure enough. In the Biblical sense. But they didn't know each other.
He thought of the calls, the emails. Their rushed meetings on evenings like this, always too short. How Norway had looked when they were out together earlier that evening, snow dusting his hair and a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
They could have more. If they tried. If both of them wanted it.
Well, Romania thought.
Why not?
He brushed a kiss against Norway's hair, then let his eyes fall shut, thinking of summer.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Romania/Norway
Rating: 18+
Length: 6k
Summary: Whenever he goes out with Norway, Romania knows exactly what he has in mind.
Other: Written in 2019. Finished for
iddyiddybangbang. Beta-read by Orpheous87 to fulfill the services I won from them in Fandom For Australia. Thanks! [Ao3 version]Going crazy trying to stay cool
The night was cool and dark, and the air was sharp. Romania's breath fogged as he stood and looked up at the sky, waiting in the warm glow of a street lamp beside a memorial to a person he'd never heard of.
Around him, people walked, chattering between themselves. Sometimes in French. Mostly in English. This city was one he didn't know at all. He found it unbearably neat, tidy, and polished, as if the people who lived here didn't have a care in the world. It wasn't true – things were never actually the way that they looked. But as Romania stood there waiting, he couldn't help but feel very out of place.
Well. His stay in this city would be a short one, at least.
It was important to come to world meetings. There was something to be said about showing your face, even if nothing ever got done at those things and there were always so many complaints about the pointlessness of it all. Sometimes, others would notice you. And sometimes, the company was worth it.
He'd received a text from Norway before either of them made their trans-Atlantic flight, asking if he would be there.
There wasn't any reason that Norway would need to know this, no official cause for him to be interested in whether Romania would be there or not. Politically and economically, Norway wouldn't care one bit. But he'd asked, and that told Romania everything he needed to know. Or at least, it gave him something to hope for.
He told him he'd be there, but hadn't added that he'd be happy to see him.
Partway through the first day of the meeting, Norway sent him another text. They hadn't even had a chance to speak to each other at that point. Romania had only been able to catch his eye from across the room before France came up to Norway and took hold of his attention, and it was clear that they'd be talking for some time. Half an hour later, Norway's name came up on Romania's phone.
Are you free for dinner tonight? My treat.
Romania had grinned when he read that. He'd guessed right about what Norway had been hinting at before they left, then. And knowing how this usually went, he could guess that their evening would turn out to be more than dinner.
With Norway, it was hardly ever just dinner.
Romania had packed strategically. Most of the clothes he'd brought were the usual attire; neatly-pressed business clothes. No point in getting too fancy. But he'd made sure to take a shirt in deep, rich red. He knew he looked good in it. The one time he'd worn it in Norway's company, Norway's eyes had kept wandering over to him, lingering in a way that they wouldn't with anyone else. He'd also been sure to wear his long coat, the one that nipped in close at the waist.
And then there were the boots. Smart and black, with shiny buckles and a bit of a heel on them. Not enough to draw attention. But he was roughly the same height as Norway, and a few centimetres were enough to give Romania a bit of height over him. Just enough to make Norway have to lift his gaze a little to look him in the eye. Hardly anything, really. But Norway had noticed that before, and seemed to like it.
Snowflakes fell, drifting lazily in the streetlights' glow. Romania shifted from one foot to the other, and waited.
Norway was late. Not by much, but it wasn't like him. He was the kind of guy that was usually exactly on time. Romania bit his lip and checked his phone again, wondering if he'd changed his mind. Nothing.
Finally, he saw him coming up the sidewalk. He was walking briskly, cheeks flushed a little, a frazzled expression on his normally settled face.
"Evening," Norway said. "Sorry about the wait. Got held up talking to someone what wouldn't take a hint."
Romania smiled. "It's fine. Denmark?"
"Nah. America." Norway lifted his hands, gently brushing a bit of snow from Romania's shoulders. "Still. Ought not to have kept you like this."
"Oh, I don't mind." Romania dipped his head a little, his cheeks flushing as Norway continued on to brush the snow from his shoulders as well. Norway had an awfully business-like expression as he went about it, but it was still an overly-friendly gesture coming from him, and the closeness didn't escape Romania's attention. "Besides, I've made you wait plenty of times."
"Fair enough." Norway stepped back, looked him over, and nodded as if satisfied that he'd made up for causing his date to wait out in the cold. Then he gestured down the street. "Come on, then. I know a good place."
They set off together into the dark, snowy night.
The restaurant that Norway chose didn't come as a surprise. It was tucked out of the way, and somebody could walk past it a dozen times and still not notice that it was there. Inside, it was quiet and intimate, the kind of place that cared about making sure people could hear each other across the table without raising their voices.
That was the kind of thing Norway liked. Quiet. Intimacy. If he couldn't have the quiet of his own home, he'd make do.
Romania had spent enough time with him that he knew the drill by now. They would have dinner, and that would be nice enough. Then they would go back to Romania's room together and 'enjoy each other's company,' as Norway would put it.
And that was the strange part. Norway did seem to want company – both the ordinary kind, and the sort that involved taking each other's clothes off.
There was nothing unusual about that, exactly. But Romania had to admit, even though he did like the time they spent together, he was always a little surprised when Norway asked him out, of all people.
There were other nations in Norway's life, after all. Closer ones. Nations that he had actual reasons to speak to.
Don't question it, Romania told himself. Just enjoy it.
So, he didn't question it. He let himself relax, and the evening came easily. It helped that the food was good, and the local wine better than expected, and that the looks Norway gave him across the table were warm and affectionate, promising more. Romania let himself talk, making sure to stay away from anything important, sticking only to light topics. And after a while, Norway looked as relaxed as he was, lips tilting into a smile, then slipping into a laugh when Romania said just the right thing.
It was satisfying, seeing him like that. Norway wasn't the kind of person to laugh easily; it was a challenge to make it happen. Knowing that he could get that kind of reaction out of him made Romania feel warm from his head to his toes.
"D'you have plans for this summer?" Norway asked toward the end of the supper, when the plates had been cleared and they were on the last of the wine. Their hands met on top of the table, Norway gently stroking over Romania's knuckles with the pads of his fingers.
"No? I mean..." Romania swept his tongue over his teeth, reconsidering his words. "I'll have to check. Why?"
"My place is nice that time of year. Could visit for a while. If you like."
He knew what Norway was hinting at. And it wouldn't be the first time that one of them had visited the other's actual home. Three years ago, Romania had hosted the world meeting, and had invited Norway to stay beyond that. An invitation which he'd – surprisingly – accepted. After official business was all over with, they'd spent a few days in Romania's countryside, hiking and relaxing and having very good sex. It had turned out even better than he'd hoped.
But that had been Romania's place. Norway's was different. Colder, more distant. And it wasn't exactly cheap.
As if sensing his thoughts, Norway went on. "Not in Oslo. That flat I have there's just for when there's business keeping me in the city. I mostly live at my place out in the country."
"Oh?" It made sense. Norway didn't seem like the type to want to spend more time in the city than necessary. Not with his love of privacy and quiet. "I think I'd like to see it."
"'Good. " Norway grazed his fingertips over Romania's hand again, as if to emphasize it. "Not much going on out there, mind you. But it's right cozy. And there's some nice views."
Romania smiled. "I'll think about it," he said. But he knew that he wouldn't have to do much thinking at all. As he felt Norway's foot brushing against his under the table, he was sure that Norway realized this, too.
Suddenly, Norway's eyes darted to the side. He abruptly removed his hand and his foot, putting on a business-like face for the waitress, who appeared a moment later. As if only seconds ago, there hadn't been anything happening between them at all.
It was always like that.
Romania let him settle up the bill without comment. He missed the warmth from Norway's hand, but after a few years of meeting with him like this, he knew by now that it wasn't meant as a slight. Norway was an intensely private person, and touch like that was a level of intimacy that he didn't want anyone passing by to see, even if they were in a place where nobody would comment on it.
When they stepped out into the fresh air together, Romania took a good look at Norway. He was tidy as always, his hair immaculate. There was a slight flush to his cheeks, just a hint of pink. It could have been from the wine or the pinch of the cold air. Either way, it was a good look on him.
As they headed toward the hotel together, Romania put his arm around Norway's shoulders, leaning in close to speak to him. "So. Your room or mine?" he asked, letting himself settle into a smile.
Norway tensed under the touch but relaxed almost as quickly, and while he didn't lean in against Romania, he didn't pull away either. He knew that to any outside observer, it wouldn't look like a private moment – it would only look like one friend asking the other where to go next.
"Well, now." Norway glanced to him, looking as if he understood everything. "Yours, thanks."
"You're sharing again?"
"'S right." A small smile. "So it'll have to be yours. If we're to have time to ourselves, that is."
"Sure," Romania said. And he released Norway from his hold, casual as anything. Though he really would have preferred to be able to keep him there, with his arm around Norway's shoulders, holding him close. Or holding his hand, knitting their fingers together.
But that wasn't the kind of guy that Norway was. It was too much, too private. So Romania shoved his hands in his pocket, keeping them to himself for the time being.
Romania managed to rein in any further gestures of affection until the moment they slipped inside his hotel room. As soon as they were completely alone, he turned to Norway and wrapped his arms around him.
Norway's hands found his hips and settled there, gripping him nice and secure through his long coat. Then he leaned against the door and pulled Romania close.
The suddenness of it made him gasp, but Norway put an end to that with a firm kiss.
Pressed against him, hip to hip, Romania braced himself with his palms on the door, using his body and the slight bit of height he had on him to trap Norway there. And as he did so, he let Norway draw it out. Let him linger. If past experience was anything to go by, Norway had been thinking about this all night.
When the kiss broke, they were both quiet for a moment. He rested his cheek against Norway's, closing his eyes as he listened to the sound of him breathing. Long. Slow. Content.
His breath caught as Norway sneaked his hands up between them. Moving slowly, taking his time with it, Norway carefully undid each button on Romania's coat, then trailed his fingers over the soft fabric of his shirt.
"Glad we were able to go out tonight," Norway said, tilting his head up to speak near Romania's ear, his voice soft and low.
Romania made a quiet noise in reply, almost a sigh. "It was nice," he said, understating things to match how Norway had put it. But there had been something in Norway's voice that hinted toward something else in that way that he sometimes had of implying things without saying them.
Whatever secret meaning Norway might have been getting at suddenly became less important as Norway murmured, "We ain't done yet, are we?" by his ear, and took his earlobe between his lips.
Romania gasped. Pressed his eyes shut tight. It was crazy how such a little thing could have such an effect on him – and Norway knew exactly what he was doing. When Romania pulled back far enough to stare him down, he saw that Norway looked smugly satisfied – or as smug as somebody could look while blushing, anyway.
"So," Romania said. "D'you want to do this against the door, then?" There was a laugh in his voice, teasing as he moved to kiss Norway's cheek. "Or would the bed be better this time?"
More than once, they'd sacrificed comfort in favour of the rush of getting to business quickly, with clothes drawn up and pushed down just enough for hands to slide beneath fabric. He'd turn Norway roughly around, pressing him against whichever flat surface was available so they could get at what they both wanted. But tonight, he had a feeling that sloppy and rough wasn't what Norway had in mind.
"Bed sounds good." Norway grazed his lips over Romania's cheek, lingering there. "...How did you know sex was what I was after, anyhow?"
"Uh..." Well, that threw him for a loop. "I guessed?" Romania asked, running his hands up and down Norway's sides. He doubted much of that could be felt through Norway's coat, but he liked the way it felt to hold him.
Norway's question had been hesitant, and Romania really did wonder why he had asked. By now, there was no reason to assume anything else. Every time they'd gone out together, it had been with the expectation that they'd end the night with sex. If it weren't for that, why would Norway even ask him out?
If Norway had any idea about what was running through Romania's head, he didn't give any sign of it. He rested back against the door, looking at Romania with a slight smile on his face, the barest hint of his lips turning up at the corners. "It was a good guess," he said, sprawling his fingertips over Romania's chest. He had to tilt his head up a bit to meet him in the eye. By the look on his face, he'd noticed that – and liked it. "Anyhow. Since you've gone and asked... Let's get to bed."
"You're sure you don't want to be sore tomorrow?" Romania's voice was light, teasing even as he drew away to give himself enough space to unbutton Norway's coat. Though Norway rolled his eyes, Romania could have sworn that the blush on his cheeks deepened a little.
"No," Norway said, but not after seeming to take a second to think about it. "Rather not, thanks."
They shrugged off their coats and scarves. Stuffed gloves in their pockets. As Romania bent to take off his boots, Norway stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.
"Let me," he said.
"What?" Romania asked, straightening up to look at him, wondering if Norway had changed his mind. But he'd no sooner asked than Norway was gently guiding him toward the bed.
"Let me do that for you," Norway repeated. His gaze dropped to Romania's feet. "Would like to get a better look at those, anyhow."
Well. In that case, Romania wasn't about to argue. Not when he'd taken the time to get picky about his footwear.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. Watched as Norway sank down on one knee, taking hold of one of his feet. Norway slid his fingertips along the buckle, then upward along the leather until he reached the zipper, lingering there as if he just happened to be doing what he'd said he wanted to do – taking a look at them.
Then Norway glanced upward, meeting Romania's eyes, and it was clear that he had other things in mind.
His head dipped again. Low. Lower. Lower, until his mouth touched Romania's boot, still cupped securely in Norway's steady hand.
Romania's breath caught. He felt decidedly unsteady. It wasn't as if he could feel the press of Norway's lips through the hard leather, but he knew exactly what was happening there.
When Norway glanced up at Romania again, his eyes were dark and unreadable. Then he moved again. Took the zipper between his teeth and pulled it down.
Romania licked his lower lip, trying to think of some snappy remark, trying to ignore the heat on his face and the stirring in his trousers.
Nothing presented itself, but that was probably for the better. Trying to be witty at a time like this would ruin the moment. It was better to watch.
As soon as Norway had that zipper down, he lifted his head again, his expression straight-faced despite what he'd just been doing. Then he attended to the other boot, going about it the normal way, apparently having had enough of surprises for the moment.
Romania held his tongue, sitting back so he could get a good look at him. He had to admit, while this wasn't at all something he had expected, he liked it. And when Norway took his socks off and gently rubbed at Romania's feet, he found himself thinking that what made it even better was that it was Norway, in particular, doing all this.
It wasn't unusual for Norway to be attentive in the bedroom. He always was. But this was something different.
"Didn't know you were into feet," Romania said. He smiled, making it clear that he was joking. Though for all he knew, there might be something to this beyond just service.
Norway glanced up at him. Raised an eyebrow. Then dropped his gaze again, returning his attention to what he was doing. "I ain't," he said quietly, massaging as he spoke.
"Oh, really?"
"Ought not to question everything."
Romania closed his eyes. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered asking about it, or commenting on it; there was no reason to question everything that everyone did, even if it was a bit different from the usual. Even if it was someone he'd been sleeping with.
But that didn't mean that he didn't wonder.
Soon, Norway moved. Stood, but only so he could bend down to kiss him. Romania sighed into the kiss, sliding his arms around Norway to draw him closer as Norway cupped at Romania's face, tilting it upward with his fingertips. It was easier for both of them that way. His hands were cold, the touch tender, and as Norway's fingertips brushed where his jaw met his throat, Romania felt his breath catch.
It was nothing new, but the self-sure way he did it made him shiver.
They parted, and for a moment they lingered, lips close, noses brushing. Then Norway straightened and nodded toward the bed.
They made themselves comfortable. Romania settled himself with his back to the headboard, and Norway straddled his lap, working at his tie and undoing buttons on his shirt between kisses.
This probably isn't the easiest way to do this, Romania thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning upwards in amusement as he settled his hands on Norway's waist. But by now, he knew that Norway liked taking his time with things, and he liked the way it felt when fingers dipped under fabric. If they took a little while with it, even if they had to rearrange themselves during the whole process... well, that was all right.
Not for the first time, he was struck by the similarity between their bodies. They were close in height, sure, but it didn't end there. He and Norway were both slim. Sturdy enough, but built lightly. Evenly matched.
Romania knew that he was different from most of Norway's partners. Not that he'd ever asked him about that, of course. But you didn't have to ask who Norway was seeing to know who he involved himself with.
Norway was a private person, but all it took was a pair of functioning eyes and ears to know who he chose to talk to. Who he stood a fraction closer to than others. Who he went off with after meetings. Nations loved to gossip, and Romania didn't mind listening.
Denmark was the obvious one. Sweden, too. And Romania knew that Norway'd been seeing Netherlands now and then. He'd even heard a rumour about him and Germany, and while that had been a bit surprising at first, the more he thought of it, the less surprising it was.
It was clear what Norway's preferences were. He liked his men tall and golden-haired, with muscles on top of their muscles. Romania was none of those things. He was absolutely the odd one out. But....
"Is something wrong?"
The words, soft by his ear, broke Romania's train of thought. He sucked in a breath, feeling heat spread over his cheeks. "No," he said, looking up at Norway as he drew away to give him a once-over. "I'm all right."
It must have come out a little too quickly because Norway gave him a sceptical look. "That so."
"Sure." Flashing a broad smile, he resumed what he'd been doing – sliding his hands along Norway's thighs, then back over his hips and ass. "Come on. How could anything be wrong right now?"
Norway frowned. The look that crossed his face wasn't annoyance, only doubt. "Looked like y'have summat on your mind, is all." His hand moved to settle over Romania's, holding it gently as he looked at him, expression searching.
"Well..." He hesitated. There was no way he could say what he was actually thinking about.
"Internal matter, is it?"
"You could say that."
Problems at home wasn't an unexpected answer. It wouldn't be the first time, and it was a logical enough one that it satisfied Norway. Romania watched as Norway brought his hand to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles.
"I see," Norway said. He paused, thinking it over. "Could help you get your mind off it, then. For a while."
"What, you have some ideas?"
Another kiss to his hand. "Yes." Then he kissed at his fingertips. Lingered there. Parted his lips just enough to take the tip of Romania's forefinger into his mouth, his damp tongue sweeping over it.
Romania swallowed, flushing deeply. "Well, I..."
"Please."
Norway's hands dropped to Romania's belt. Didn't move to undo it; only waited, steady as Norway's gaze as he watched Romania, patiently waiting for him to untie his tongue so he could respond.
"Yes." Somehow, Romania remembered how to speak. Miraculously, he managed to stop himself from bucking up, or grabbing Norway's hands and putting them exactly where he wanted them. "Sure. Just to start."
"Oh?" A raised eyebrow, as if Norway didn't know what would come after that, but the smile spreading over his lips said otherwise. "You'll want more after that?"
"I think you're here for something else."
Norway kissed him instead of answering, and that was fine.
They stripped the rest of their clothes. Norway took the time to fold everything neatly before they got down to business. Romania knew better than to comment on it. Not that he would, when so shortly after that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Norway bending to give him a brief kiss before sinking down to his knees.
Romania settled back and watched him. The soft light from the bedside table played on his face, made his sharp features look softer. His eyes fell shut as he went to work, his mouth soft and slick around Romania's cock, his pretty blond head bobbing up and down.
He took in the flush on his cheeks, the slow, methodical way he went about the whole thing. From the look of it, Norway was enjoying it almost as much as Romania was.
Well. Might as well let him, then. Romania let his eyes drift shut as he sank into the hot, wet sensation of Norway's lips and tongue. Listened to the soft huff of his breath, the way he sighed as he slowly moved to take him in completely.
Romania cracked his eyes open at that. Couldn't help but look. Watching as he withdrew, sweeping his tongue over the head. Then down again, moving slowly until he couldn't go any farther.
One hand was at Romania's hip. The other – Romania couldn't see it, but judging by how laboured Norway's breathing was, Romania could hazard a guess at its location. Just the thought of Norway touching himself made him moan.
He let him keep at it for a while. Since he was enjoying it so much. For a moment, Romania considered doing nothing else and leaving it at this – the hot, slick sensation of Norway's mouth, the way it felt to have those lips wrapped around his cock. He thought of coming in his mouth, making him swallow it all. Or of pulling out and finishing on his face. Breath catching, he considered it.
It would be a lie to say that Norway didn't have anything to do with it. The fact was, Norway had everything to do with it. Calm, cold, self-assured, steady and stable and rich Norway. Romania thought of him panting and looking up at him with those intense blue eyes, a streak of white splashed across his flushed cheeks.
With a groan, he reached down. Stroked Norway's face, silently asking him to stop. As Norway pulled back, looking up at him with eyes dark and hazy, Romania tried to find his words.
It took him a moment.
"If you keep going, you might end up disappointed," was all he managed.
"Oh?"
"Well... maybe not. I guess it depends on what you want."
Norway licked his lips, looking like he was thinking about it. Then he moved to stand, bracing himself with one hand on the mattress so he could press close and nose at his cheek and speak quietly by his ear. "It ain't just about me," Norway whispered, his breath fluttering over the shell of Romania's ear. "What're you after?"
It took Romania a moment to catch his breath. There was Norway, draped over him, hard cock pressed flush against his own, asking him what he wanted. It made thinking a little difficult. "I don't know," Romania admitted.
A soft kiss to his cheek. "Right, then. In that case... Reckon I'd like your cock in my ass, thanks."
Good grief, Romania thought. "I think I can manage that," he said. And then he kissed Norway so that he wouldn't have to say anything else.
It wasn't hard to get themselves rearranged. To get Norway onto his back, sprawled out on the bed. Soon Romania was in him, sinking into the heat of his body up to the hilt.
For a while, they were both quiet, nothing but the sound of their gasps and the bed creaking in time with Romania's thrusts. He moved slowly, savouring how good it felt to be balls-deep inside of Norway, with Norway's long limbs wrapped around him and his fingernails digging into Romania's shoulders. Even though everything else had been great, this never got old.
It was Norway who eventually spoke, panting his words. "Where was it you took me that one time?" he asked, blinking upward in the dim light.
Oh hell, Romania thought. You want to have a conversation now? Still, he slowed, thinking about it. "When do you mean?"
"When we were at your place. Out in the country."
"Maramureș?"
"That's it. Maramureș." Norway didn't say it quite right. His voice flattened the word in some places, made it roll in others, and to top it all off the act of fucking made him husky and breathless. "It was nice."
"I see." Romania thought about it. To the extent that he was capable of thinking, which at the moment wasn't much. "We could go there again sometime."
"Sounds good." Quiet sighed words. Nothing more than that for a moment or so. Then he gripped Romania by the hair and dragged him in for a kiss.
Romania allowed it. Let him do it. Kissed him hot and hard and open-mouthed, gasping against Norway's lips as Norway rocked up to meet him. Hissed as Norway's nails dug into his skin, sure to leave marks the next day.
He didn't mind a bit.
There seemed to be more to all this than just the sex. Maybe. It was hard to tell with Norway. It was always tricky to know exactly what he meant by anything.
Maybe it wasn't important to think about it. Not when he was moving in sharp snaps to thrust into Norway, breath quick and hair plastered to his forehead. Not when Norway was clinging to him with one hand and getting himself off with the other. It was hard to think about anything at all at a time like that.
He felt the orgasm building and slowed, wanting it to last. Norway let out a soft groan in protest, blinking up at him.
"Quit ditherin'," Norway muttered, panting. "I'm almost there."
"I'll take my time if I want," Romania said, somehow managing to get the words out. "You could always beg for it."
"Fuck you," Norway moaned. But there was a challenge in his eyes as he looked up at Romania, his cheeks flushed and his lashes low.
Romania grinned. "We already are," he said.
It was cheap, and he got some eye-rolling for that, but the huff of a laugh that Norway made, something more like a gasp, was worth it.
"Enough," Norway said, and pulled him down once more for a kiss.
Romania gave himself up to that, kissing him fiercely as he rocked into him. The sharp gasp Norway made against his mouth made him grin, flushing with satisfaction – or maybe it was from the sensation of being so, so close. He bit down on Norway's lower lip and felt – more than heard – him moan as he shuddered and came.
Fingernails raking their way across his scalp. Hips jerking up to meet him. Legs wrapped tight around him. And mouth against his, lips slick and wet, sure to feel tender after all that. Romania gave up and let himself come, groaning against Norway's eager mouth.
Slow, slow breathing, easing from sharp gasps to something easy and quiet. A sigh.
Romania rolled off Norway. Rested there on his back, staring up at the ceiling, sweat beading on his brow and hair plastered to his forehead.
He listened to the sounds Norway made; turning over beside him, breathing out a soft sigh as he moved to turn up the brightness on the lamp, then clean up.
"That was good," Norway said as if praising him and thanking him at once. Then he paused before continuing. "You're not bad at this."
"Not bad?" Romania laughed. Turned his head a little to watch him. He was combing his fingers through his hair, the lamplight casting a soft, warm glow on his pale skin, the shadows emphasizing the sharp bones in his hands. "What do you mean by that?"
Norway paused. His hands stilled. Like he needed a moment to think over how to say it, how to describe what he thought. "You're just right," he said finally, speaking carefully. "Not too rough. Not too much. And your cock is perfect."
Romania felt a smirk tugging at his lips, and didn't even try to stop it. "Oh really," he said, waggling his eyebrows when Norway looked over at him. "Well! I'm glad you like it so much."
Norway was smiling. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light. "I do," he said, dipping his head to kiss Romania's cheek. "There's such a thing as too much. But you ain't. I like that I can deepthroat you without gagging."
It sounded like he meant it. Romania returned the kiss, kept it soft. "Well, you aren't the only one, y'know," he said with a grin. "I like that too."
"Hmm." Norway dipped his head again. Nuzzled at him, sighing. "It's more than that. Bet you could fuck me twice in one night and I'd feel just fine the next day."
Jesus, Romania thought. There was something about the simple, matter-of-fact way that Norway put it that sent heat rising to his cheeks. "I see."
"Mmhm."
"It sounds like you only like me for my dick," Romania joked. Instantly, he knew that it hadn't been taken that way – Norway sent him a sharp, worried look, causing Romania to quickly add, "I know that's not it, though."
"You're sure, now?" That look was still there. Norway bit at his lower lip, teeth digging into flesh tender from kissing. "It isn't like that at all, understand."
"Yes. I'm sure."
Before Romania could say anything else, Norway draped himself over him. Bracketed his arms around Romania's head and moved to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. As if he needed to make sure for himself, or felt that he needed to reassure him somehow.
Romania wrapped his arms around him and kissed back.
There wasn't much to say after that. Only soft, cautious words whispered in each other's ears.
"I like you a lot, you know. Wouldn't spend time with you if I didn't."
"Don't worry about it. I know."
"Would you mind if I stayed the night, then."
"Not in the least."
They washed off together, pressed close under the warm stream of the shower. Then back to bed, nestling under the covers. Romania wrapped his arms around Norway and held him close, relaxing against the comfortable familiar shape of his body.
"So," he said after a while. "Maramureș."
"Yes. Or anywhere. If you'll have me, mind." Pointed nose nuzzling at his neck. A soft sigh. "Lots of pretty sights down at your place."
"Oh?"
"Been looking. A little." A poke to his ribs, as if to chastise him for not believing it. "But the tourist pictures only tell so much. There's more to you than that."
Romania felt something stir in him, something warm and strangely tight. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him that Norway was so interested, that he actually cared, but it did. "I'll take you anywhere you want," Romania said, sinking his fingers into Norway's hair, sliding them through soft strands still damp from the shower. "I bet I can come up with a few good places. And we can still go to your place, too, this summer. If you were serious about that."
"I was. 'Mean, I'd like that. ...I want to get to know you, understand. Proper." Norway sighed the words and let them sit, leaving it like that.
As if they didn't already know each other, Romania thought. Well. They 'knew' each other, sure enough. In the Biblical sense. But they didn't know each other.
He thought of the calls, the emails. Their rushed meetings on evenings like this, always too short. How Norway had looked when they were out together earlier that evening, snow dusting his hair and a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
They could have more. If they tried. If both of them wanted it.
Well, Romania thought.
Why not?
He brushed a kiss against Norway's hair, then let his eyes fall shut, thinking of summer.