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Entry tags:
Matters of Affection [Norway/Germany]
Title: Matters of Affection
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Norway/Germany
Rating: 18+
Length: 9.1k
Summary: Something casual growing into something more, by and by.
Other: Set a few years after "Matters of Attraction". Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
iddyiddybangbang event. Thanks to Twitch for help with the beta reading. :)
Matters of Affection
"You ought to meet me for drinks tonight. Think we both could do with relaxing a little."
That was the sum of Norway’s invitation, and of course Germany accepted. While he was no stranger to world meetings, the stream of the day's events had left him tired. A moment to unwind sounded good, especially with this kind of company.
The two of them had been seeing one another for some time — at least, for a certain definition of seeing each other. While they rarely had the opportunity in their schedules to meet for more than a couple of days, there were evenings stolen after world meetings, small slices of time in which they could enjoy one another's company, the both of them far from home.
This evening was no different.
It had been the same a few years ago on the first night that Norway had made his interests known. Little more than an offhand comment, a suggestion, and a note with an address scribbled on it. That was all. To think what had come from that unassuming start....
Though Norway was sparse with his wording, Germany had become accustomed to determining the meaning in the things he didn't say. The easy tone to his words, the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips; these said many things. They said Let's take it easy. Dress down for this. and Maybe we could spend the night together. Or maybe not. Let's see how we feel about it later. and I just want to spend some time with you. The latter words in particular were things that Germany knew Norway would never say, but experience led him to conclude that was what was meant.
Germany looked himself over in the mirror once more, checked the time and location that Norway had texted to him, breathed deeply, then slipped out to go and meet him.
Fresh air. Mountains on one side, sea on the other. Sloping streets. Night was dropping gently, the western sky a deep rosy colour, the street lamps brightening gold in the September air. Perhaps, Germany thought as he made his way down the quiet street where the pub Norway had mentioned was located, they could go out for a walk together later on, regardless of where else the night took them.
As he pushed open the door, he couldn't help but feel a small twist of nervousness, just as he had every time since that first night that they had met together for pleasure, rather than business. That feeling went away when he saw him, that familiar figure catching his sight in the warm, dimmed light. Norway had claimed a booth for them, and he sat there at ease, with his attention absorbed in a book and a glass of wine at one hand. He'd swapped out his business clothing for jeans and a sweater. As Germany watched, he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
There was something about the way he looked at that moment, so perfectly relaxed, that was absolutely absorbing. But, of course, he couldn't look at him all night.
Germany went to him.
Norway looked up when he approached, and though it was not easy to see in the dim light, Germany was sure he saw a familiar flicker of a smile sweep across his lips, a hint of warmth in that quiet expression.
"Ah, I'm sorry I kept you waiting."
"It's fine," Norway said, slipping a bookmark into his paperback. "I got here early. You were exactly on time. Don't worry about it."
As Germany slid into the seat across from him, Norway looked to him again, head tilted as if curious. "Long day, wasn't it."
"It was, yes." And because Germany had come to know that Norway rarely said anything without purpose, he waited for him to continue.
Norway took another sip of his wine, lashes dipping low for a second before he spoke again. "Aye, that's right. So." Another glance toward Germany, meeting his eyes, lingering. It was a warm look, relaxed. "I'd like to have done with work talk tonight. No business. That clear?"
"Of course." Germany could feel his ears heating. Did Norway really think he wasn't capable of leaving work behind for one evening?
Perhaps Norway guessed at his thoughts, because he continued. "It ain't on account of you," he said. "I have things weighing on my mind, is all." There was a flicker of a smile again. "Might be that you could get me thinking on something else."
Of all people, Germany thought, Norway was asking him. He hardly had a reputation for witty banter and easy conversation. There were other nations in Norway's life better suited to the task, he was sure. "I... ah. I'll do my best to take your mind off of it," Germany said. Despite his awkward hesitation, if Norway's expression was any indication, the answer was more than satisfactory.
"I'm glad." Norway thought for a moment. "We'll have to take a look later. See if there's another time soon that we'll be in the same place." There were things after that, things he didn't say.
The cadence of his voice suggested: I will want to see you again.
Norway's hand was on the table, and Germany glanced at it, wondering if he should take it. Was it an invitation? Knowing Norway, it might be.
He slid his hand over and grasped Norway's hand. In response, Norway threaded their fingers together, stroking his thumb against the centre of Germany's palm.
Germany couldn't help himself; a smile flitted over his lips. Norway's expression was welcoming, and it was obvious that this had been the correct move.
Then, Norway's gaze darted to the side, and he released Germany's hand. The waitress was approaching.
Germany straightened in his seat, clearing his throat as he readied himself to order, still feeling warm about the face and hoping that the low lighting would hide it.
As soon as they had both ordered and they were alone again, Norway took Germany’s hand once more, gently squeezing it.
It wasn't that the prospect of being seen together troubled either of them. It was merely that they were both private people. Norway had been quick to make this clear to him when they started seeing each other.
That suited Germany well.
As the evening went on, Germany found himself unable to take his eyes off Norway. Not for the first time, he was fascinated by Norway's hands, long-fingered and bony, gesturing slightly when faced with a word that Norway could not recall. His voice was another thing, low-toned and rolling. And those dark eyes, deep blue made deeper by the light's dimness. Germany found that he could stare at those eyes for ages, and in that moment he was grateful that he had an opportunity to do so; that, considering they were spending time together for personal reasons, he was entirely justified in looking at Norway, in paying such close attention to him. If asked, he could say that he was listening closely to what Norway was saying, and that he had his full attention.
But Norway, by the hint of a smile at his lips, knew exactly what was going on.
Later in the evening, Norway asked a question that Germany found surprising, even considering their current relationship.
"If you'd like," Norway said quietly, "we could meet up some time when it ain't like this."
"Pardon...?"
"When it ain't like..." Norway waved a hand, indicating the bar, the city, the meeting, the reason that they were in the same location to begin with. "You know. Could do something more personal. Just the two of us." His gaze lifted, meeting Germany's eyes directly. "If you'd be able to make the time."
This was something new, and for a moment Germany could not believe what he was hearing. Considering all of their previous meetings had taken place at times when the only reason they were in the same city was because of official engagements, the idea that Norway might set aside personal time to spend with him made Germany's heart pound.
"Of course," he said. "I will need to consult my schedule, but -"
"It's fine. We can take a look at that later." Norway's words were soft. His gaze was directed down at their hands, resting together on the table, their fingers loosely linked. "Anyhow, we're both busy. Don't mind if it takes a while, long's it happens by and by." He squeezed Germany's hand to punctuate it.
This was far more openly-friendly than Norway would be in public under most circumstances, and Germany found himself wondering what the cause could be. It wasn't because of the wine; he hadn't had nearly enough for that to be a factor in his behaviour. Perhaps it was something else, something Germany had overlooked.
"Pardon me for saying so," Germany said, "but you seem to be in an unusually good mood tonight."
As he said that, those dark eyes lifted up to his face again, and Germany found himself caught between being glad that he had spoken, and flustered to be under that gaze, even though it wasn't scrutinizing in the way that it sometimes was. Heat crept over his cheeks as Norway looked at him.
"I have good company," Norway said finally. "Why shouldn't I be happy?"
"Ah -" And that warm feeling deepened as Germany struggled to explain himself. "Of course. But you usually aren't so openly affectionate."
Norway's brows lifted, then he made a soft sound of agreement, acknowledging the truth of it. "Aye, that's so." He reached for his wine glass again. "But I don't see anyone taking a look at us. Do you?"
"Well, no."
"Matter've fact -" Norway glanced around the room, then nodded. "Reckon we're out of view of most folks here." And his foot moved to brush against Germany's, lingering there suggestively, just long enough to make heat rise in Germany's cheeks.
"I – I suppose you're right."
"Of course." And Norway mercifully removed his foot, but didn't cease touching Germany's hand. "So, considering everything, there's nothing keeping me from doing as I like with you."
That did nothing to cool the blush heating Germany's face.
He promptly made the decision to disregard his own embarrassment, and enjoy the way Norway looked at him. There was a warmth in his eyes that was easy to appreciate; as he so often looked cold and critical, the relaxed lines of his face were a welcome sight.
Germany also found it satisfying to know that he was both the cause and the sole benefactor of this look, that he was the only one receiving Norway's warmth tonight. Not that Germany would ever assume that he was the only one who Norway was interested in; he knew that there were others. But, as he'd reflected at the beginning of their evening, Norway had choices, and he had asked specifically for Germany's company.
"What's on your mind?"
The soft question came as a surprise. "I..." How could he describe what he had been thinking without coming across as presumptuous? Germany fumbled for a response as Norway waited patiently, observing but not judging. "I was only thinking that I'm glad to have accepted your invitation tonight."
At that, something like a smile tugged at the corner of Norway's lips. In the dim light, it was difficult to be certain if that was what it was. "I could say the same," he said. And as that smile broadened, it became obvious that it was exactly as it looked: warm, earnest happiness.
Later, when they stepped out into the night air, they paused for a moment, uncertain of what to do. It was a bit early to go back to the hotel – and in truth, Germany could not be certain that Norway would want to go back with him. Even though Norway had been affectionate toward him throughout the entire evening, they had not in fact broached that particular subject; for all his flirting, Norway hadn't suggested anything, and Germany hadn't either.
Germany thought for a moment about whether he should.
Norway, on the other hand, didn't seem to have anything on his mind. He looked up at the sky, even though it was almost impossible to see the stars in the drowning warmth of the city's light. The moon was round and full. He'd shoved his hands into his pockets, and contemplated the sky while Germany debated with himself.
Just as Germany was readying himself to say something, Norway stepped close to him, and spoke softly.
"It's nice out," he said, glancing up at Germany. "Walk with me?"
There was a hopeful note in that request, as if somehow Norway thought that Germany might turn him down. But how could he possibly refuse? "I would love to."
Streetlamps spilled gold onto the streets. It was not very late, and the streets were still lively.
The evening was heavy with the scent of gardenia, and breezes blew fresh sea air in from the Pacific. As they walked, they stayed close to one another. Germany briefly considered taking Norway's hand, then discarded the idea. Norway was, after all, a very private person, and no matter how romantic the gesture would be, he couldn't imagine him being receptive to the idea.
It didn't matter.
Eventually, they made their way down to the harbourside streets. Even at night, this part of the city was bright. The sound of singing caught their attention, and led them to a high walkway overlooking the harbour below.
A tall ship was docked there and lit up brightly, like a stage. From the ship came the sound of music and song. Acrobats dressed as butterflies performed in the golden light.
Though the stage was far away, the view from the lookout was still impressive. Norway touched lightly at Germany's coat sleeve, and they stopped together and watched.
"Look at how they're going up the rigging," Norway said, leaning in close, his mouth near Germany's ear so he could be heard over the music. His breath fogged the crisp air as he gestured toward the ropes, long fingers following the path of the singers. "The way they're using it to make it look like they're flying. Clever."
Germany made a low noise of acknowledgement. In truth, though the performance was unique, his attention was taken up by something else. Norway was close, so close. They were standing as close as lovers; anyone who saw them would presume that was what they were.
It would be so easy to slip his arm around him. Would Norway object to it? It was likely he wouldn't approve. After all, they were in public. But -
"Go ahead," Norway said, and Germany felt his heart leap into his throat.
"Pardon?"
Norway turned to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever you were thinking on," he said. "Go ahead." As if to prove what he meant, he shifted to stand a fraction closer to him.
Germany drew in a quick breath. Then, after hesitating for only a second more, he slid his arm around Norway's shoulders.
As soon as he did, Norway leaned into the touch, easing close to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Somehow, all of the times they had met before, all of the things they had done together before, all of the moments spent together in private – none of them seemed as intimate as this. Germany felt his insides twist. There was something about being here, on this crisp night, in a city completely foreign to both of them, that made the both of them feel bold enough to publicly share affection like this.
If anyone looked at them – and certainly nobody would, as everyone was transfixed by the acrobats and singers on the ship below – all they would see would be a young couple sharing an evening together, and with contact that would not be too private for this part of the world.
But for Norway to want this contact, this closeness – in fact, to ask for it, and give permission – meant so much.
Germany didn't ask more of him, didn't draw him closer. The warmth of Norway leaning into him was more than enough already.
As the performance ended and applause rang in the harbour, Norway eased out of Germany's hold to take a step away from him, putting them at a more appropriate distance from each other.
Germany swallowed his objection. Even if he could justify wishing he had stayed where he was, the both of them understood perfectly well that there was a time and place for such intimacy.
The way that Norway looked up at him made up for it. He had his hands in his jacket pockets, his stance casual and relaxed. A strand of hair fell across his cheek, and as he moved to brush it away, the look that crossed his face seemed almost shy, though it must have been a trick of the light. Bright though the streetlamps were, their warm glow didn't wash over the two of them completely, and in that hazy light Norway's eyes looked so dark that Germany felt as if he could fall into them.
"It's getting late," Norway said. "We ought to head back to your room, I think."
"My room -?"
"Can't go back to mine. I'm sharing with Iceland; reckon he wouldn't be pleased with company." Norway paused, hesitating. "'Less you'd rather not -"
"Oh – no, that is, of course." Germany could feel himself blushing, heat running through his ears. "Of course I want your company." How could he explain that after all this time, he was still unused to Norway's advances? Perhaps he would never get used to it. And though Norway was casual in the way he spoke of it, there was no question of what he was offering.
The slightest smile tugged at the corner of Norway's lips and it suggested that he understood Germany’s fumbling, and didn't mind it. "Okay," Norway said softly. His hand came up to squeeze at Germany's arm, a gentle and affectionate gesture, before letting go again. "Lead the way."
The two of them were quiet as they made their way through the evening light to Germany's hotel. Norway kept his hands in his pockets, and Germany banished all thoughts of holding his hand. But they did walk near to each other, close enough that if they were even a fraction closer, they might brush against one another.
Germany considered whether to read something into it, then dismissed the thought.
They didn't say anything at all until they stepped inside Germany's room.
"May I take your coat?"
Norway's gaze flicked up to him, his quiet expression almost a smile. A nod – and then he looked away as Germany slipped it from his shoulders from behind. "Was a nice night," Norway murmured, stepping out of his shoes.
"It was." Germany watched as Norway went over to the bed and sank down onto it, turning on the bedside lamp. There was something about Norway's easy and relaxed movements that made Germany's breath catch. He swallowed harshly and stilled his hands for a moment, sure that if he did not, he would fumble with the buttons on his coat.
"Something wrong?" Norway asked. He tilted his head to the side, and though it might have been Germany's imagination, there seemed to be something in his expression that said he knew exactly what was happening; that he was aware that the very sight of him, in such a mundane context, had taken Germany's breath away.
"I'm fine!" Germany said.
"Then hurry it up, will you. I'm not about to wait all night."
Germany could feel his cheeks burning as he rushed to slip out of his coat and shoes. By now he knew Norway well enough to understand that such a remark was not to be taken seriously – especially if, as he suspected, Norway knew that Norway himself was the cause of the delay.
Soon, he sank down beside him, and in a second Norway was in his arms. Norway's hands came up to cup Germany's cheeks, guiding him in for a kiss, and as their lips met for the first time in months Germany found himself more affected by it than was strictly reasonable. The flush on his cheeks deepened under Norway's chilled fingertips, and he wondered if he knew the cause of it.
For a moment, Norway slowly withdrew, giving him a quiet look, saying nothing. He didn't have to say a word; it was the sort of look that said that Norway knew exactly what Germany was thinking. The kiss he brushed against Germany's cheek, light and soft, only confirmed it.
Germany coiled his arms around him and held him close.
Norway's nose was cold, and Germany shivered as he nuzzled at his neck. He heard him let out a content sigh.
"Had a good time with you tonight," Norway murmured. Even in the quiet of the room, his voice was so soft that Germany could barely hear it.
"So did I." Though their time together now had been different from most of their previous personal encounters, it had been very enjoyable.
"Mmhm." Norway sighed again – thoughtfully, as if trying to make a decision. "Now, then..." He lifted his head, drawing away enough to look up at Germany from behind the strands of hair falling in his face. "I'd like to be close for a bit, if you don't mind."
"Close...?"
"Aye, close. Comfortable-like." A soft kiss to his cheek for emphasis. "Just... get cozy together."
Germany certainly wasn't going to deny him that.
They rested together in the low light of the bedside lamp. Norway reached up to slide off his hairclip, then stretched out on the bed next to Germany, nestling in his waiting arms.
Germany sank his fingers into the warmth of Norway's sweater and took a moment to relish the way it felt to have him close.
On the previous occasions that they spent the night together, as soon as they entered the bedroom, they would proceed toward the logical end. No matter if they took their time or not, their actions would lend themselves to getting each other's clothes off. They did, after all, usually meet with a certain objective in mind.
This time, however, the entire evening had been so pleasant, and so comfortable, and Germany was content. Norway would direct him when he was ready. This was, in fact, one of the things Germany liked about Norway; regardless of whatever they did together in bed, Norway didn't hesitate to take matters into his hands and indicate how he wanted Germany to proceed.
Germany slid his fingers through Norway's hair, taking care to avoid the sensitive flyaway while he appreciated the soft strands. The gesture made Norway turn his head, peering at him a moment before nosing at his cheek and slowly, softly, brushing a kiss to his mouth.
The sensation left Germany breathless, and for a moment he lost himself in the simple tenderness of it. Norway's hand came up, stroking light, cold fingers along Germany's cheek in such a way that it was impossible to deny the affection in the gesture, though only a few years ago Germany would never have imagined that Norway would be the type to touch anyone that way.
Another soft, gentle kiss, and then another, until Norway sighed and drew away a bit. "Don't get me wrong," he murmured, letting his hand drift until it could splay against Germany's chest. "I'd like to do things tonight. But I'd like it if we could take our time, is all."
"I see." In itself, that was not unusual. Norway often wanted to take his time in bed. However, 'taking his time' usually meant that Norway intended to tease Germany with touches and friction deliberately chosen to drive him mad.
Obviously, that was not what Norway intended tonight.
For a moment, Germany considered his words. "Are you tired?" he asked, moving his hand from Norway's hair to stroke down along his back.
"A little. But that ain't what I meant." Norway nosed at him again, grazing the barest of kisses against his mouth. "I do want you," he whispered.
Germany felt himself flush deeply. He had to bite his tongue to hold back a groan that threatened to spill out of him. Drawing in a deep breath, he stroked light circles along Norway's back to distract himself. "But...?"
"There's no 'but'." A soft kiss to his cheek. "Though I reckon if we don't get out've our clothes soon, we won't get around to it," he added.
It wasn't hard for Germany to take the hint.
They parted, sitting up. But Norway lingered close, leaning in to kiss him. "Y'could help me," he said. "If you like."
More kisses, soft against his mouth. If Norway was intent on drawing the moment out, that was acceptable to Germany, whose hands rested at Norway's waist, fingers dipping low after a moment to graze the slice of bare skin between his sweater and trousers. He felt him shiver, followed by a sharp intake of breath. A moment later they parted, Norway's smile soft and knowing as he glanced up at Germany, then lifted his arms to let him draw the clothing up and off.
Soon they stripped bare and slipped beneath the duvet covers. In a second, Norway had hold of him again, his arms sliding around Germany's shoulders as he tilted his head up to kiss him. After a moment, he pulled Germany on top of him, and Germany followed his lead – easing over him, carefully manoeuvring his body with his arms bracketing Norway's head, holding himself up to keep from crushing him. Heat rose in his cheeks as Norway's thighs parted to ease his body between them, Norway's slim but strong legs moving to wrap loosely around him, mirroring the actions of his arms around his shoulders.
It wasn't hard to lose himself in the kiss, surrender to the pliant press of Norway's mouth and the way his slim fingers swept over Germany's skin, brushing at his shoulders, then sweeping to tangle in his hair.
Their bodies fit together perfectly. He could feel Norway's breaths, his sighs. The chill of his fingers. As he moved to cup Norway's head, sliding that soft hair through his fingers, he felt more than heard the moan muffled against Germany's lips. And as he sifted his fingers minutely, searching for the curled strand of hair, he felt him shiver and dig his fingers into his shoulders.
They broke apart. Germany dipped his head, pressing soft, slow kisses to Norway's throat. While he would not admit to it, there was a reason for this; it was all the better to hear the way Norway's breathing quickened and hitched. Those sounds, so subtle and quiet, stirred Germany in ways that he never would have imagined before their encounters. It was almost embarrassing, the way he felt himself growing hard against Norway from nothing more than those soft, breathy sounds.
Almost. But not quite. Because he knew, quiet though Norway was under his touch, that he was affected by what Germany was doing. Slowly, Germany tugged at that soft strand of hair, mouthing gently at Norway's throat. He was rewarded with a soft gasp, and that slender body beneath him arching up against him, their hard cocks rubbing against one another.
Germany held back a groan, feeling his cheeks flush scarlet. It was difficult to stop himself from jerking downward and grinding against Norway. On other nights, at other times, he would not have restrained himself so much; after his fumbling awkwardness on their first night together, Germany had come to understand Norway's preferences, and he knew that he wouldn't mind such a thing, not when they were here like this, completely bare and wrapped up in each other.
But this night was not like the other nights, and he kept in mind what Norway had said earlier. Gentleness would be the order of the day.
He pressed a kiss to Norway's collarbone. Take it slow? That would be incredibly difficult with the way they were positioned. Not that he objected to the wonderful, intoxicating sensation of Norway's arms and legs around him, but there was only so much he could manage.
Perhaps Norway read his mind, as he drew in a deep sigh, sliding his fingers up to stroke them through Germany's hair. "You don't have to hold yourself back so much, you know," he murmured.
"Oh? I, ah... But you said you wanted to take things slowly." He lifted his head to look at Norway, trying to read his face.
Understanding Norway's expression was rarely easy, and this time was no different. There was a thoughtful, quiet look on his face, his eyes halfway shut. But the flush on his cheeks betrayed his thoughts; or maybe it was only because of the way his hair was so carefully wrapped in Germany's fingers. Germany lifted his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of Norway's face and waited for him to finish.
"It ain't that I don't want to do anything tonight," Norway murmured, brushing a kiss against Germany's wrist.
"But...?"
Another soft, feather-light kiss. "We've both a lot to do tomorrow. Reckon both of us will be more comfortable if we keep things non-penetrative tonight."
Germany flushed deeply. "I see." He brushed his fingers along Norway's cheek, watching the way his eyes drifted shut. "That will not be a problem."
"Didn't think it would be. Just figured it weren't what you were expecting."
"I – well, no. But that is not a problem, I assure you."
"Oh?"
"Of course!" Germany moved, sliding upward to meet Norway's lips, kissing him once more.
Norway made a soft, confused noise, kissing back gently before moving to nuzzle against his cheek. "What's this about, now?" he breathed.
"Even if you wanted to do nothing but sleep, I would be satisfied." Germany pressed a soft, insistent kiss to his hair. "Please understand – I would never be disappointed if I'm with you."
Though his words were insistent, as Germany spoke, he found himself feeling as if they were so much more than the subject itself; as if what they were talking about was something more than the physicality of their relationship.
Norway's silence did not help matters. He lingered, head tilted against Germany's, resting quiet and contemplative. "Okay," he said softly, after a moment so long that Germany wondered if he should apologize for the outburst. "I'm glad." He paused, and went on. "But I don't plan on just sleeping. Understand?"
Germany let out a long, deep breath. "Yes," he murmured. "I understand."
"Good. Now... I figure you must have summat to ease the way, don't you. Give it here."
Though he didn't want to move away from him for even one second, Germany understood the logic behind Norway's request. He moved off of him, sliding over to reach for the drawer on the bedside table and the tube he had discreetly stored there. The few seconds apart were enough to make him ache for the sensation of Norway's body against his.
When he looked at him again, Norway was watching him, his eyes soft. His hair was dishevelled, falling against his cheek. The warm light from the bedside table played over his slim body and the angles of his face. His legs were sprawled out on the bed, erection hard and flush against his abdomen. Germany allowed himself an indulgence, allowed himself to sweep his gaze over him, take in the sight before finally meeting Norway's eyes again.
Norway was smiling. Smiling in that small, slight way, a smile designed to make Germany's insides twist and his cheeks burn.
"Give it here," Norway said again, holding out his hand. And when Germany obliged, he simply took it and set about coating his fingers, simple as could be. "Like what you saw there?" he asked.
"I – yes," Germany said. He practically groaned the words. His cheeks were burning, and it was only made worse when Norway swept his gaze over Germany's body, lingering on his arousal, the undeniable proof that he liked what he saw very, very much.
"Come over here, then. I'll get cold if you're away from me too long, y'know." Norway passed the lube back to him, and waited for him to slick up his hand, and gestured for him to come over. The words, the both of them knew, were a lie; the air in the hotel room was warm enough, and Norway was not the sort to be bothered by cold. But the substance of his meaning made clear that he felt the way Germany did, that he wanted his touch, perhaps even craved it. It was with that in mind that Germany edged over and bent to kiss him.
Norway's mouth was soft under Germany's lips, parting slightly for his tongue. One of Norway's hands slipped up, cupping the back of his head to hold him there, drawing out a kiss that muffled a soft moan. And the other hand... Germany realized, after a moment, that it was down below, that Norway was touching himself. He sucked in a breath and slid his hand between them, nudging Norway's hand aside to tend to him.
The sound Norway made when Germany stroked him was low and breathless, matching the way he rocked up into his touch. But it was barely anything compared to the choked gasp Germany let out when Norway touched him, slim slick fingers wrapping around his cock with a sureness that he could not compare to anything else he had ever felt.
They stroked each other in the dim light, their touches falling into a steady rhythm, their bodies following too as they thrust into one another's hands. Germany released Norway's lips, ceased kissing him in favour of pressing slick kisses to the soft skin at his throat. His actions had an ulterior motive: not only because he knew that Norway loved the sensation, but also to hear the soft sounds he made. Even now, Norway was quiet, but there was no way to hide his gasps, the sharp intake of breath, the way he moaned as Germany slid his thumb over the head of his cock. His fingers tightened in Germany's hair and coiled more firmly around his arousal, until Germany was left panting as he thrust through the tight ring of his fingers.
But even as he shivered over Norway's body, Germany found himself wondering – the position was awkward, and perhaps – it might be better if -
He took in a shuddering breath and slowed himself, his movements and touches. Beneath him, Norway breathed a soft word of confusion, free hand moving to touch at Germany's face.
"Something wrong?"
"No." He moved to kiss him, trying to keep it soft, and only succeeded in groaning against Norway's mouth as he stroked him. "I... I thought, perhaps, if you close your legs..."
Norway was quiet for a second, blinking up at him in hazy confusion. Then he smiled, letting out a soft huff of a laugh. "Ain't very often I get someone asking me to close my legs in bed," he teased.
"I - " Germany's cheeks flushed scarlet as he scrambled for a way to explain himself. "That isn't what I meant! I -"
But his words became a moan as Norway's fingers stroked along his cock, slow and tight. "Belay that," Norway whispered, a hint of a smile in his low, breathy voice. "I know what you're after, and you can have it." And he gripped at Germany's hair, drawing him down for a kiss, soft and tender and saying quiet plainly that he didn't mind the idea at all.
It didn't take long for them to rearrange themselves, Germany easing off of Norway long enough to let him move. More lube eased the way, Norway doing him the favour of stroking a slick hand along Germany's cock before tending to himself, sweeping his fingers between his thighs, between his legs. Even though it was only a moment, it was all Germany could do to remain patient. He pressed his mouth to Norway's throat, trailing soft kisses there, waiting as Norway took his time, took a moment to touch him once again before finally murmuring a word of assent.
He bracketed his arms above Norway's head, sinking his fingers into his soft hair. Sprawling above Norway, his thighs on either side of him, he hesitated a moment before kissing him again.
Norway's hands were at his waist, his hips, and perhaps he decided he was finished with taking his time, as he slid his hand between them, taking Germany's cock and directing him where to put it, his other hand gripping him at the hip and drawing him down.
The kiss muffled the low groan Germany made against Norway's mouth.
This was something they had not done together before, and as he thrust between Norway's thighs Germany couldn't help but appreciate the way it felt. While Norway was built far more lightly than himself, he was sturdy and strong, the kind to spend his days hiking or skiing when time allowed. It was so easy to appreciate the way it felt to thrust against him, their bodies rocking together.
Their lips barely left each other for a moment. Norway kept him close, kissing him deeply, his lips parted and damp and pliant. Positioned as they were, with Germany's hands sinking deep into Norway's hair, and Norway clinging desperately to him, Germany feared that it wouldn't be enough, that Norway wouldn't be satisfied with going untouched. But to judge by how Norway reacted, shivering underneath him, soft sounds muffled against Germany's mouth, what friction he did get must have been satisfying.
Germany wanted to hear him.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his mouth to Norway's throat. Lingered there, sweeping his tongue over his pulse as Norway gasped and tilted his head back. The need to explain sat at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say it; but it seemed Norway understood, as while usually he might try to stay quiet by biting at his lip or even covering his own mouth, instead he allowed himself, to breath, digging his fingernails into Germany's skin.
Even then, the sounds he made were little more than breathy gasps and sighs and the occasional soft moan.
Germany closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it. He shuddered as he thrust against him, rocked his hips in time with his partner's heavy breathing. There was something about this, the way it felt to rut against him and fuck his thighs while Norway held onto him and allowed it, that made Germany moan. It wasn't just the sensation itself, but how Norway kept his legs pressed tight together for his pleasure. The way his slim hands gripped at Germany's hips and pulled him closer, made him thrust harder against him.
He buried his face against Norway's neck, clinging to his hair as he shuddered against him. Almost unconsciously, his fingers cupped Norway's skull, seeking that soft coiled strand at the back of his neck.
When Norway gasped and clung to him, digging his fingernails into Germany's hips with a force that would leave marks later, a sharpness that made Germany gasp – it was clear that he'd found what he was looking for.
Germany wrapped it around his fingers, tugging at it as he thrust against him. The soft yes that forced its way past Norway's lips was almost enough to make him come. As it was, it was the way Norway raked his fingernails along his skin as he came that did it, the way he dug deep into Germany's flesh in a way he world not have if he'd realized it, sharp points of pain that drove him on as deep in the back of his mind a small part of him that was still coherent realized that his partner had orgasmed without so much as being touched.
A few more thrusts and he was done, shivering as he sought Norway's mouth to kiss him, muffling his moans against his willing lips. When they finally parted, gasping, Germany practically collapsed on top of him, pressing his face to Norway's neck.
For a moment, they were both quiet. The only sound was their panting, slowly evening out until they were relaxed and at ease.
Norway slid his fingertips along Germany's spine and shoulders, the touch gentle, almost apologetic, as if he only then realized what he had been scratching him the whole time but didn't want to say anything outright. Germany considered reassuring him, and decided against it. While usually Norway was not quite so demonstratively enthusiastic, it was hardly the first time this had happened.
He pressed a soft kiss to Norway's throat and tried to think of something appropriate to say. At times like this, he always found himself floundering, at a loss for words. While Norway was not generally the type to desire romantic nothings, it still seemed as if the moment called for something of the sort. But what?
It was Norway who spoke first. "I'm glad you wanted to spend the night with me," he said. His words were a sigh.
Germany could feel his cheeks heating. "Of course I wanted to!" he said – and then added, more quietly, "I can't imagine that I ever wouldn't."
It seemed too intimate a thing to admit, and he realized that as soon as he said it. For a moment both he and Norway were silent, as if turning over the idea together. Finally, Norway stroked Germany's cheek. "Even so," he said.
"Even so," Germany repeated, closing his eyes against the touch. It was tender, and while it was not the first time he had experienced such gentleness from Norway, he wanted to enjoy it while he had it.
"Mmhm." Another soft, light touch, trailing through Germany's hair before resting at his shoulder. "We ought to get cleaned up. Long day tomorrow."
For that, Germany absolutely agreed.
Strictly speaking, cleaning up took longer than necessary. As soon as they were beneath the warm spray of the shower, Norway pulled Germany close to him and kissed him long and firm and deep. After that, it was hard to resist the heat of his mouth, the shape of Norway's body against him.
Soon Germany found himself on his knees, Norway's fingers wrapped in his hair as Germany caressed him with his lips and tongue. Even though the sound of the shower muffled Norway's gasps, Germany could still feel his reaction in the sensation of fingernails raking his scalp.
Anticipated or not, it was worth taking the time for this, to feel Norway's body tense, hips jerking against Germany's hands as he held him in place against the shower tile.
Norway slipped from the bathroom quickly after they were finished, murmuring something about needing to send a text, leaving Germany alone to brush his teeth and bask in the satisfaction of the evening.
When Germany joined him, he found Norway perched on the end of the bed, wrapped in a white hotel bathrobe, his damp hair already curling in waves as it dried. Norway glanced up, then resumed typing his message. "Was letting Iceland know I wouldn't be back tonight," he murmured.
"I see," Germany said, sinking down next to him. "Would he worry?"
Norway considered this, shifted a little to lean against Germany, then nestled closer when Germany curled an arm around his shoulders. "Says he doesn't. Far's I can see it, that's a damn lie, mind you." He yawned. "He'd like to pretend he doesn't give a hoot about what I do."
"But you both know that he cares?"
"Right. That's why I don't mind." Norway looked up, tilting his head to kiss Germany's cheek. "He said he won't wait up for me," Norway said. "And that he doesn't want to know." His eyes were laughing, as if he found his brother's reaction to the prospect of him staying with someone to be quite funny.
With that look on his face, it was impossible for Germany to resist drawing him closer – so he did, and dipped his head to steal a soft, gentle kiss.
The question was at the tip of his tongue. Should he ask? All of the times they had enjoyed each other's company up until this point had been incidental addendums to occasions when they would have seen each other anyway: meetings, conferences, international events. The slices of time they were able to catch together were pleasant, but they had never gone out of their way to arrange anything outside of that. Germany remembered how Norway had mentioned it earlier that evening, saying that he'd like to see him on a personal visit, if he could make the time. As if he would ever refuse! It was true that they were both very, very busy, but of course he wanted to see Norway if -
"Seems like you have summat on your mind," Norway murmured. He had curled up close to Germany, nestling against him with his head on his shoulder.
"I..." Germany flushed with embarrassment. He hadn't said a word! And yet, somehow, Norway knew. "Yes," he admitted. "I do."
"Could tell me about it. If you like."
"I remembered what you said earlier this evening. You said you would like to spend some time with me." Germany took a deep breath, stroking Norway's hair, tucking a damp strand behind his ear. "I was wondering if you would like to compare schedules."
"Don't see why not." Norway nuzzled against him, nose brushing his neck. "Wouldn't hurt to look things over, see if we could make the time. I'm glad you'd like to."
Difficult though it was to detach himself from Norway and fetch his phone, Germany managed it. They nestled together again, and set about the challenging task of finding time to meet.
"I've the first week in September free."
"Maybe – oh. No, I'll be meeting with Austria then. Second weekend of October?"
"Can't. Got that one booked. Beginning of November, then."
"No, I think..."
It was becoming clear that, in addition to the casual nature of their relations, there were practical reasons why they hadn't tried this before.
Norway's lips pressed in a tight line as he scrolled through his calendar, trying to find a suitable slot. "Third week of February?"
"Ah... I think so, yes. Possibly."
"Could go to my place," Norway mused, staring down at his phone. "The weather ain't the best, mind you. Unless..."
Germany held back a comment that he would be going there to visit Norway, not to admire his climate. "Unless?"
"D'you like skiing?" Norway's gaze lifted, meeting Germany's eyes in a hopeful look that he so rarely saw on him. "We could make a trip of it. Since we both have the time. If you'd like."
Even without the yearning in Norway's voice, Germany would have agreed. A skiing trip at Norway's place, with his beautiful landscape, and Norway himself for company. How could anyone say no?
"That sounds wonderful," Germany said. "I -"
The rest of the words didn't have a chance to leave his lips. Norway kissed him before he could say anything else, and they fell back onto the mattress together, calendars and schedules forgotten.
Neither of them were good with words, but Norway's joy was clear. And as he wrapped his arms around him, Germany decided that it would be worth the wait.
Germany woke before the alarm clock and rested in the dark, listening to the slow, even sound of Norway's breathing.
It was early, and there would be a bit of time before the day began. Later, there would be a few hours before they would have to turn themselves toward business, the matters that the day would require them to attend to.
Germany listened, and waited, and let Norway sleep. Having him nearby was enough.
The one thing that surprised Germany more than anything else was not that he had become so attached, but that Norway felt the same way, if all of the evidence that pointed to it was correct. Germany knew himself, and it was with reluctance that he had to admit to himself that it was not unexpected that he would grow so fond of someone he was sleeping with. But that Norway would return his feelings....
At one time, he never would have imagined it possible. But at one time, he wouldn't have given any thought to whether Norway was passionate about anything at all, least of all Germany himself.
He could still feel the warmth of Norway's arms around him, the sensation of his mouth against his own, happiness radiating from him as they agreed to meet again.
It was a simple fact that they were both private people. Germany decided that the best way to consider the matter was to appreciate that Norway had allowed him to see this side of him.
Movement beside him distracted him from his train of thought. Shifting followed by a soft sigh. "You awake?" Norway's soft, low murmur.
"Yes."
"Mm." More warmth as Norway curled closer to him, long arm sliding about his waist, a soft kiss pressed to his hair. "G'morn, then."
There was something about the warmth in Norway's voice that made Germany conclude – after only a second's thought – that if he were a different sort of person, if Norway were more like Italy, Norway would suggest that they spend the entire day in bed together.
As it was, Germany had a feeling that he would find it much more difficult than usual to get ready for the day.
As if reading his mind, Norway nosed at him again. "We've still got ourselves a while, here," he said, stroking Germany's hair. "And more time than that before this thing starts proper. D'you want to have breakfast with me?" His voice was soft and drowsy, and rendered even more attractive than usual because of it.
"Of course." Upon reflection, Germany was somewhat surprised at the suggestion. It was one thing to meet in the night; but in the bright of day, in public, with other nations present in the city, and the two of them being private people, as they were -
"Reckon it won't be that hard to find some place quiet." Norway kissed at his temple, murmuring it. "And it ain't as if we have anything to hide, anyhow."
Germany drew in a deep breath. Those words said so much. To think that their relationship had begun as nothing but physical intimacy, building up from mere attraction to – not necessarily something substantial or long-lasting, but at least something more. "I understand," he said softly, as he wrapped his arms around Norway to draw him close. "I'm sure we won't have difficulty finding somewhere quiet to talk."
And if their personal relations became known to other parties, he decided, there was no reason to object to it.
They eventually parted, not without great reluctance, as the alarm clocks on their phones went off in sync with each other.
Norway slipped out of bed with a sigh, and bent to pick up his clothes from where he'd left them the night before.
"D'you remember where we were last night? Where we were watching the acrobats on the boat. Nice lookout over the harbour, there."
Germany nodded, sitting up in bed. "Yes, I remember where it is," he said, raking his hair out of his eyes. "Would you like me to meet you there?"
"That'll do."
They parted quickly. After dressing, Norway turned to him, kissing his cheek before offering him a smile and slipping from the room. There was no need to say goodbye; they would be seeing each other very soon.
Even being apart for such a small amount of time seemed like too much.
You're being unreasonable, Germany reminded himself as he proceeded to get ready for the day. You only feel this way because you had the pleasure of waking up beside him. Soon you will be apart again, and then it will be months before you will see him again.
However, the knowledge that he would see him – that they had arranged it – was some comfort, as was the memory of the smile that lit up Norway's face when Germany agreed to the idea of the ski trip.
That, at least, was something.
The morning was clear and bright, with cool sea air coming in from the harbour. The city was beginning to stir.
Germany made his way down to the waterfront, walking past elaborate beds of bright-blooming flowers and hydrangea bushes and trees dipping their leaves low. It didn't take long for him to reach the meeting place, the street overlooking the harbour with the tall ship sitting calmly in the water, its mast reaching skyward. There, standing with his arms folded on the railing, looking out into the harbour, was Norway.
Germany paused a moment to watch him, taking in the sight of the early sunlight on his hair, the quiet set to his expression. There was something about the way he looked at that moment, completely without a care about anyone around him, that he would want to keep for a long time.
He looked only long enough to hold that picture in his mind, then went to him.
As Germany joined him at the railing, his gaze wasn't directed out at the harbour; he only had eyes for Norway. Norway, who turned to look at him with the slightest of smiles on his lips.
"G'morning," Norway said, even if he'd already said it once that day. He shifted, leaning against Germany slightly, the gesture sending a flush spreading over Germany's cheeks.
"You're here earlier than expected."
"Aye, that I am. But you're early too, ain't you." Norway leaned in a fraction more before turning to look out at the harbour again. "Nice day, I think."
"Yes," Germany said, his eyes still on Norway's face, taking in the way his hair fell against his cheek.
There was a pause. "Reckon we ought to go get breakfast. Then you can look at me as much as you like."
"I -"
"I don't mind," Norway said, giving Germany's arm a squeeze. For a second, his face brightened into a grin. It was gone as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving only a slight crinkling at the corner of his eyes. "Come on, then. I could do with some coffee."
Unable to object to any of it, Germany let him lead.
As the sun spilled light into the streets, he felt warm.
He'd cherish what time they had together.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Norway/Germany
Rating: 18+
Length: 9.1k
Summary: Something casual growing into something more, by and by.
Other: Set a few years after "Matters of Attraction". Written for the
iddyiddybangbang event. Thanks to Twitch for help with the beta reading. :)Matters of Affection
"You ought to meet me for drinks tonight. Think we both could do with relaxing a little."
That was the sum of Norway’s invitation, and of course Germany accepted. While he was no stranger to world meetings, the stream of the day's events had left him tired. A moment to unwind sounded good, especially with this kind of company.
The two of them had been seeing one another for some time — at least, for a certain definition of seeing each other. While they rarely had the opportunity in their schedules to meet for more than a couple of days, there were evenings stolen after world meetings, small slices of time in which they could enjoy one another's company, the both of them far from home.
This evening was no different.
It had been the same a few years ago on the first night that Norway had made his interests known. Little more than an offhand comment, a suggestion, and a note with an address scribbled on it. That was all. To think what had come from that unassuming start....
Though Norway was sparse with his wording, Germany had become accustomed to determining the meaning in the things he didn't say. The easy tone to his words, the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips; these said many things. They said Let's take it easy. Dress down for this. and Maybe we could spend the night together. Or maybe not. Let's see how we feel about it later. and I just want to spend some time with you. The latter words in particular were things that Germany knew Norway would never say, but experience led him to conclude that was what was meant.
Germany looked himself over in the mirror once more, checked the time and location that Norway had texted to him, breathed deeply, then slipped out to go and meet him.
Fresh air. Mountains on one side, sea on the other. Sloping streets. Night was dropping gently, the western sky a deep rosy colour, the street lamps brightening gold in the September air. Perhaps, Germany thought as he made his way down the quiet street where the pub Norway had mentioned was located, they could go out for a walk together later on, regardless of where else the night took them.
As he pushed open the door, he couldn't help but feel a small twist of nervousness, just as he had every time since that first night that they had met together for pleasure, rather than business. That feeling went away when he saw him, that familiar figure catching his sight in the warm, dimmed light. Norway had claimed a booth for them, and he sat there at ease, with his attention absorbed in a book and a glass of wine at one hand. He'd swapped out his business clothing for jeans and a sweater. As Germany watched, he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
There was something about the way he looked at that moment, so perfectly relaxed, that was absolutely absorbing. But, of course, he couldn't look at him all night.
Germany went to him.
Norway looked up when he approached, and though it was not easy to see in the dim light, Germany was sure he saw a familiar flicker of a smile sweep across his lips, a hint of warmth in that quiet expression.
"Ah, I'm sorry I kept you waiting."
"It's fine," Norway said, slipping a bookmark into his paperback. "I got here early. You were exactly on time. Don't worry about it."
As Germany slid into the seat across from him, Norway looked to him again, head tilted as if curious. "Long day, wasn't it."
"It was, yes." And because Germany had come to know that Norway rarely said anything without purpose, he waited for him to continue.
Norway took another sip of his wine, lashes dipping low for a second before he spoke again. "Aye, that's right. So." Another glance toward Germany, meeting his eyes, lingering. It was a warm look, relaxed. "I'd like to have done with work talk tonight. No business. That clear?"
"Of course." Germany could feel his ears heating. Did Norway really think he wasn't capable of leaving work behind for one evening?
Perhaps Norway guessed at his thoughts, because he continued. "It ain't on account of you," he said. "I have things weighing on my mind, is all." There was a flicker of a smile again. "Might be that you could get me thinking on something else."
Of all people, Germany thought, Norway was asking him. He hardly had a reputation for witty banter and easy conversation. There were other nations in Norway's life better suited to the task, he was sure. "I... ah. I'll do my best to take your mind off of it," Germany said. Despite his awkward hesitation, if Norway's expression was any indication, the answer was more than satisfactory.
"I'm glad." Norway thought for a moment. "We'll have to take a look later. See if there's another time soon that we'll be in the same place." There were things after that, things he didn't say.
The cadence of his voice suggested: I will want to see you again.
Norway's hand was on the table, and Germany glanced at it, wondering if he should take it. Was it an invitation? Knowing Norway, it might be.
He slid his hand over and grasped Norway's hand. In response, Norway threaded their fingers together, stroking his thumb against the centre of Germany's palm.
Germany couldn't help himself; a smile flitted over his lips. Norway's expression was welcoming, and it was obvious that this had been the correct move.
Then, Norway's gaze darted to the side, and he released Germany's hand. The waitress was approaching.
Germany straightened in his seat, clearing his throat as he readied himself to order, still feeling warm about the face and hoping that the low lighting would hide it.
As soon as they had both ordered and they were alone again, Norway took Germany’s hand once more, gently squeezing it.
It wasn't that the prospect of being seen together troubled either of them. It was merely that they were both private people. Norway had been quick to make this clear to him when they started seeing each other.
That suited Germany well.
As the evening went on, Germany found himself unable to take his eyes off Norway. Not for the first time, he was fascinated by Norway's hands, long-fingered and bony, gesturing slightly when faced with a word that Norway could not recall. His voice was another thing, low-toned and rolling. And those dark eyes, deep blue made deeper by the light's dimness. Germany found that he could stare at those eyes for ages, and in that moment he was grateful that he had an opportunity to do so; that, considering they were spending time together for personal reasons, he was entirely justified in looking at Norway, in paying such close attention to him. If asked, he could say that he was listening closely to what Norway was saying, and that he had his full attention.
But Norway, by the hint of a smile at his lips, knew exactly what was going on.
Later in the evening, Norway asked a question that Germany found surprising, even considering their current relationship.
"If you'd like," Norway said quietly, "we could meet up some time when it ain't like this."
"Pardon...?"
"When it ain't like..." Norway waved a hand, indicating the bar, the city, the meeting, the reason that they were in the same location to begin with. "You know. Could do something more personal. Just the two of us." His gaze lifted, meeting Germany's eyes directly. "If you'd be able to make the time."
This was something new, and for a moment Germany could not believe what he was hearing. Considering all of their previous meetings had taken place at times when the only reason they were in the same city was because of official engagements, the idea that Norway might set aside personal time to spend with him made Germany's heart pound.
"Of course," he said. "I will need to consult my schedule, but -"
"It's fine. We can take a look at that later." Norway's words were soft. His gaze was directed down at their hands, resting together on the table, their fingers loosely linked. "Anyhow, we're both busy. Don't mind if it takes a while, long's it happens by and by." He squeezed Germany's hand to punctuate it.
This was far more openly-friendly than Norway would be in public under most circumstances, and Germany found himself wondering what the cause could be. It wasn't because of the wine; he hadn't had nearly enough for that to be a factor in his behaviour. Perhaps it was something else, something Germany had overlooked.
"Pardon me for saying so," Germany said, "but you seem to be in an unusually good mood tonight."
As he said that, those dark eyes lifted up to his face again, and Germany found himself caught between being glad that he had spoken, and flustered to be under that gaze, even though it wasn't scrutinizing in the way that it sometimes was. Heat crept over his cheeks as Norway looked at him.
"I have good company," Norway said finally. "Why shouldn't I be happy?"
"Ah -" And that warm feeling deepened as Germany struggled to explain himself. "Of course. But you usually aren't so openly affectionate."
Norway's brows lifted, then he made a soft sound of agreement, acknowledging the truth of it. "Aye, that's so." He reached for his wine glass again. "But I don't see anyone taking a look at us. Do you?"
"Well, no."
"Matter've fact -" Norway glanced around the room, then nodded. "Reckon we're out of view of most folks here." And his foot moved to brush against Germany's, lingering there suggestively, just long enough to make heat rise in Germany's cheeks.
"I – I suppose you're right."
"Of course." And Norway mercifully removed his foot, but didn't cease touching Germany's hand. "So, considering everything, there's nothing keeping me from doing as I like with you."
That did nothing to cool the blush heating Germany's face.
He promptly made the decision to disregard his own embarrassment, and enjoy the way Norway looked at him. There was a warmth in his eyes that was easy to appreciate; as he so often looked cold and critical, the relaxed lines of his face were a welcome sight.
Germany also found it satisfying to know that he was both the cause and the sole benefactor of this look, that he was the only one receiving Norway's warmth tonight. Not that Germany would ever assume that he was the only one who Norway was interested in; he knew that there were others. But, as he'd reflected at the beginning of their evening, Norway had choices, and he had asked specifically for Germany's company.
"What's on your mind?"
The soft question came as a surprise. "I..." How could he describe what he had been thinking without coming across as presumptuous? Germany fumbled for a response as Norway waited patiently, observing but not judging. "I was only thinking that I'm glad to have accepted your invitation tonight."
At that, something like a smile tugged at the corner of Norway's lips. In the dim light, it was difficult to be certain if that was what it was. "I could say the same," he said. And as that smile broadened, it became obvious that it was exactly as it looked: warm, earnest happiness.
Later, when they stepped out into the night air, they paused for a moment, uncertain of what to do. It was a bit early to go back to the hotel – and in truth, Germany could not be certain that Norway would want to go back with him. Even though Norway had been affectionate toward him throughout the entire evening, they had not in fact broached that particular subject; for all his flirting, Norway hadn't suggested anything, and Germany hadn't either.
Germany thought for a moment about whether he should.
Norway, on the other hand, didn't seem to have anything on his mind. He looked up at the sky, even though it was almost impossible to see the stars in the drowning warmth of the city's light. The moon was round and full. He'd shoved his hands into his pockets, and contemplated the sky while Germany debated with himself.
Just as Germany was readying himself to say something, Norway stepped close to him, and spoke softly.
"It's nice out," he said, glancing up at Germany. "Walk with me?"
There was a hopeful note in that request, as if somehow Norway thought that Germany might turn him down. But how could he possibly refuse? "I would love to."
Streetlamps spilled gold onto the streets. It was not very late, and the streets were still lively.
The evening was heavy with the scent of gardenia, and breezes blew fresh sea air in from the Pacific. As they walked, they stayed close to one another. Germany briefly considered taking Norway's hand, then discarded the idea. Norway was, after all, a very private person, and no matter how romantic the gesture would be, he couldn't imagine him being receptive to the idea.
It didn't matter.
Eventually, they made their way down to the harbourside streets. Even at night, this part of the city was bright. The sound of singing caught their attention, and led them to a high walkway overlooking the harbour below.
A tall ship was docked there and lit up brightly, like a stage. From the ship came the sound of music and song. Acrobats dressed as butterflies performed in the golden light.
Though the stage was far away, the view from the lookout was still impressive. Norway touched lightly at Germany's coat sleeve, and they stopped together and watched.
"Look at how they're going up the rigging," Norway said, leaning in close, his mouth near Germany's ear so he could be heard over the music. His breath fogged the crisp air as he gestured toward the ropes, long fingers following the path of the singers. "The way they're using it to make it look like they're flying. Clever."
Germany made a low noise of acknowledgement. In truth, though the performance was unique, his attention was taken up by something else. Norway was close, so close. They were standing as close as lovers; anyone who saw them would presume that was what they were.
It would be so easy to slip his arm around him. Would Norway object to it? It was likely he wouldn't approve. After all, they were in public. But -
"Go ahead," Norway said, and Germany felt his heart leap into his throat.
"Pardon?"
Norway turned to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever you were thinking on," he said. "Go ahead." As if to prove what he meant, he shifted to stand a fraction closer to him.
Germany drew in a quick breath. Then, after hesitating for only a second more, he slid his arm around Norway's shoulders.
As soon as he did, Norway leaned into the touch, easing close to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Somehow, all of the times they had met before, all of the things they had done together before, all of the moments spent together in private – none of them seemed as intimate as this. Germany felt his insides twist. There was something about being here, on this crisp night, in a city completely foreign to both of them, that made the both of them feel bold enough to publicly share affection like this.
If anyone looked at them – and certainly nobody would, as everyone was transfixed by the acrobats and singers on the ship below – all they would see would be a young couple sharing an evening together, and with contact that would not be too private for this part of the world.
But for Norway to want this contact, this closeness – in fact, to ask for it, and give permission – meant so much.
Germany didn't ask more of him, didn't draw him closer. The warmth of Norway leaning into him was more than enough already.
As the performance ended and applause rang in the harbour, Norway eased out of Germany's hold to take a step away from him, putting them at a more appropriate distance from each other.
Germany swallowed his objection. Even if he could justify wishing he had stayed where he was, the both of them understood perfectly well that there was a time and place for such intimacy.
The way that Norway looked up at him made up for it. He had his hands in his jacket pockets, his stance casual and relaxed. A strand of hair fell across his cheek, and as he moved to brush it away, the look that crossed his face seemed almost shy, though it must have been a trick of the light. Bright though the streetlamps were, their warm glow didn't wash over the two of them completely, and in that hazy light Norway's eyes looked so dark that Germany felt as if he could fall into them.
"It's getting late," Norway said. "We ought to head back to your room, I think."
"My room -?"
"Can't go back to mine. I'm sharing with Iceland; reckon he wouldn't be pleased with company." Norway paused, hesitating. "'Less you'd rather not -"
"Oh – no, that is, of course." Germany could feel himself blushing, heat running through his ears. "Of course I want your company." How could he explain that after all this time, he was still unused to Norway's advances? Perhaps he would never get used to it. And though Norway was casual in the way he spoke of it, there was no question of what he was offering.
The slightest smile tugged at the corner of Norway's lips and it suggested that he understood Germany’s fumbling, and didn't mind it. "Okay," Norway said softly. His hand came up to squeeze at Germany's arm, a gentle and affectionate gesture, before letting go again. "Lead the way."
The two of them were quiet as they made their way through the evening light to Germany's hotel. Norway kept his hands in his pockets, and Germany banished all thoughts of holding his hand. But they did walk near to each other, close enough that if they were even a fraction closer, they might brush against one another.
Germany considered whether to read something into it, then dismissed the thought.
They didn't say anything at all until they stepped inside Germany's room.
"May I take your coat?"
Norway's gaze flicked up to him, his quiet expression almost a smile. A nod – and then he looked away as Germany slipped it from his shoulders from behind. "Was a nice night," Norway murmured, stepping out of his shoes.
"It was." Germany watched as Norway went over to the bed and sank down onto it, turning on the bedside lamp. There was something about Norway's easy and relaxed movements that made Germany's breath catch. He swallowed harshly and stilled his hands for a moment, sure that if he did not, he would fumble with the buttons on his coat.
"Something wrong?" Norway asked. He tilted his head to the side, and though it might have been Germany's imagination, there seemed to be something in his expression that said he knew exactly what was happening; that he was aware that the very sight of him, in such a mundane context, had taken Germany's breath away.
"I'm fine!" Germany said.
"Then hurry it up, will you. I'm not about to wait all night."
Germany could feel his cheeks burning as he rushed to slip out of his coat and shoes. By now he knew Norway well enough to understand that such a remark was not to be taken seriously – especially if, as he suspected, Norway knew that Norway himself was the cause of the delay.
Soon, he sank down beside him, and in a second Norway was in his arms. Norway's hands came up to cup Germany's cheeks, guiding him in for a kiss, and as their lips met for the first time in months Germany found himself more affected by it than was strictly reasonable. The flush on his cheeks deepened under Norway's chilled fingertips, and he wondered if he knew the cause of it.
For a moment, Norway slowly withdrew, giving him a quiet look, saying nothing. He didn't have to say a word; it was the sort of look that said that Norway knew exactly what Germany was thinking. The kiss he brushed against Germany's cheek, light and soft, only confirmed it.
Germany coiled his arms around him and held him close.
Norway's nose was cold, and Germany shivered as he nuzzled at his neck. He heard him let out a content sigh.
"Had a good time with you tonight," Norway murmured. Even in the quiet of the room, his voice was so soft that Germany could barely hear it.
"So did I." Though their time together now had been different from most of their previous personal encounters, it had been very enjoyable.
"Mmhm." Norway sighed again – thoughtfully, as if trying to make a decision. "Now, then..." He lifted his head, drawing away enough to look up at Germany from behind the strands of hair falling in his face. "I'd like to be close for a bit, if you don't mind."
"Close...?"
"Aye, close. Comfortable-like." A soft kiss to his cheek for emphasis. "Just... get cozy together."
Germany certainly wasn't going to deny him that.
They rested together in the low light of the bedside lamp. Norway reached up to slide off his hairclip, then stretched out on the bed next to Germany, nestling in his waiting arms.
Germany sank his fingers into the warmth of Norway's sweater and took a moment to relish the way it felt to have him close.
On the previous occasions that they spent the night together, as soon as they entered the bedroom, they would proceed toward the logical end. No matter if they took their time or not, their actions would lend themselves to getting each other's clothes off. They did, after all, usually meet with a certain objective in mind.
This time, however, the entire evening had been so pleasant, and so comfortable, and Germany was content. Norway would direct him when he was ready. This was, in fact, one of the things Germany liked about Norway; regardless of whatever they did together in bed, Norway didn't hesitate to take matters into his hands and indicate how he wanted Germany to proceed.
Germany slid his fingers through Norway's hair, taking care to avoid the sensitive flyaway while he appreciated the soft strands. The gesture made Norway turn his head, peering at him a moment before nosing at his cheek and slowly, softly, brushing a kiss to his mouth.
The sensation left Germany breathless, and for a moment he lost himself in the simple tenderness of it. Norway's hand came up, stroking light, cold fingers along Germany's cheek in such a way that it was impossible to deny the affection in the gesture, though only a few years ago Germany would never have imagined that Norway would be the type to touch anyone that way.
Another soft, gentle kiss, and then another, until Norway sighed and drew away a bit. "Don't get me wrong," he murmured, letting his hand drift until it could splay against Germany's chest. "I'd like to do things tonight. But I'd like it if we could take our time, is all."
"I see." In itself, that was not unusual. Norway often wanted to take his time in bed. However, 'taking his time' usually meant that Norway intended to tease Germany with touches and friction deliberately chosen to drive him mad.
Obviously, that was not what Norway intended tonight.
For a moment, Germany considered his words. "Are you tired?" he asked, moving his hand from Norway's hair to stroke down along his back.
"A little. But that ain't what I meant." Norway nosed at him again, grazing the barest of kisses against his mouth. "I do want you," he whispered.
Germany felt himself flush deeply. He had to bite his tongue to hold back a groan that threatened to spill out of him. Drawing in a deep breath, he stroked light circles along Norway's back to distract himself. "But...?"
"There's no 'but'." A soft kiss to his cheek. "Though I reckon if we don't get out've our clothes soon, we won't get around to it," he added.
It wasn't hard for Germany to take the hint.
They parted, sitting up. But Norway lingered close, leaning in to kiss him. "Y'could help me," he said. "If you like."
More kisses, soft against his mouth. If Norway was intent on drawing the moment out, that was acceptable to Germany, whose hands rested at Norway's waist, fingers dipping low after a moment to graze the slice of bare skin between his sweater and trousers. He felt him shiver, followed by a sharp intake of breath. A moment later they parted, Norway's smile soft and knowing as he glanced up at Germany, then lifted his arms to let him draw the clothing up and off.
Soon they stripped bare and slipped beneath the duvet covers. In a second, Norway had hold of him again, his arms sliding around Germany's shoulders as he tilted his head up to kiss him. After a moment, he pulled Germany on top of him, and Germany followed his lead – easing over him, carefully manoeuvring his body with his arms bracketing Norway's head, holding himself up to keep from crushing him. Heat rose in his cheeks as Norway's thighs parted to ease his body between them, Norway's slim but strong legs moving to wrap loosely around him, mirroring the actions of his arms around his shoulders.
It wasn't hard to lose himself in the kiss, surrender to the pliant press of Norway's mouth and the way his slim fingers swept over Germany's skin, brushing at his shoulders, then sweeping to tangle in his hair.
Their bodies fit together perfectly. He could feel Norway's breaths, his sighs. The chill of his fingers. As he moved to cup Norway's head, sliding that soft hair through his fingers, he felt more than heard the moan muffled against Germany's lips. And as he sifted his fingers minutely, searching for the curled strand of hair, he felt him shiver and dig his fingers into his shoulders.
They broke apart. Germany dipped his head, pressing soft, slow kisses to Norway's throat. While he would not admit to it, there was a reason for this; it was all the better to hear the way Norway's breathing quickened and hitched. Those sounds, so subtle and quiet, stirred Germany in ways that he never would have imagined before their encounters. It was almost embarrassing, the way he felt himself growing hard against Norway from nothing more than those soft, breathy sounds.
Almost. But not quite. Because he knew, quiet though Norway was under his touch, that he was affected by what Germany was doing. Slowly, Germany tugged at that soft strand of hair, mouthing gently at Norway's throat. He was rewarded with a soft gasp, and that slender body beneath him arching up against him, their hard cocks rubbing against one another.
Germany held back a groan, feeling his cheeks flush scarlet. It was difficult to stop himself from jerking downward and grinding against Norway. On other nights, at other times, he would not have restrained himself so much; after his fumbling awkwardness on their first night together, Germany had come to understand Norway's preferences, and he knew that he wouldn't mind such a thing, not when they were here like this, completely bare and wrapped up in each other.
But this night was not like the other nights, and he kept in mind what Norway had said earlier. Gentleness would be the order of the day.
He pressed a kiss to Norway's collarbone. Take it slow? That would be incredibly difficult with the way they were positioned. Not that he objected to the wonderful, intoxicating sensation of Norway's arms and legs around him, but there was only so much he could manage.
Perhaps Norway read his mind, as he drew in a deep sigh, sliding his fingers up to stroke them through Germany's hair. "You don't have to hold yourself back so much, you know," he murmured.
"Oh? I, ah... But you said you wanted to take things slowly." He lifted his head to look at Norway, trying to read his face.
Understanding Norway's expression was rarely easy, and this time was no different. There was a thoughtful, quiet look on his face, his eyes halfway shut. But the flush on his cheeks betrayed his thoughts; or maybe it was only because of the way his hair was so carefully wrapped in Germany's fingers. Germany lifted his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of Norway's face and waited for him to finish.
"It ain't that I don't want to do anything tonight," Norway murmured, brushing a kiss against Germany's wrist.
"But...?"
Another soft, feather-light kiss. "We've both a lot to do tomorrow. Reckon both of us will be more comfortable if we keep things non-penetrative tonight."
Germany flushed deeply. "I see." He brushed his fingers along Norway's cheek, watching the way his eyes drifted shut. "That will not be a problem."
"Didn't think it would be. Just figured it weren't what you were expecting."
"I – well, no. But that is not a problem, I assure you."
"Oh?"
"Of course!" Germany moved, sliding upward to meet Norway's lips, kissing him once more.
Norway made a soft, confused noise, kissing back gently before moving to nuzzle against his cheek. "What's this about, now?" he breathed.
"Even if you wanted to do nothing but sleep, I would be satisfied." Germany pressed a soft, insistent kiss to his hair. "Please understand – I would never be disappointed if I'm with you."
Though his words were insistent, as Germany spoke, he found himself feeling as if they were so much more than the subject itself; as if what they were talking about was something more than the physicality of their relationship.
Norway's silence did not help matters. He lingered, head tilted against Germany's, resting quiet and contemplative. "Okay," he said softly, after a moment so long that Germany wondered if he should apologize for the outburst. "I'm glad." He paused, and went on. "But I don't plan on just sleeping. Understand?"
Germany let out a long, deep breath. "Yes," he murmured. "I understand."
"Good. Now... I figure you must have summat to ease the way, don't you. Give it here."
Though he didn't want to move away from him for even one second, Germany understood the logic behind Norway's request. He moved off of him, sliding over to reach for the drawer on the bedside table and the tube he had discreetly stored there. The few seconds apart were enough to make him ache for the sensation of Norway's body against his.
When he looked at him again, Norway was watching him, his eyes soft. His hair was dishevelled, falling against his cheek. The warm light from the bedside table played over his slim body and the angles of his face. His legs were sprawled out on the bed, erection hard and flush against his abdomen. Germany allowed himself an indulgence, allowed himself to sweep his gaze over him, take in the sight before finally meeting Norway's eyes again.
Norway was smiling. Smiling in that small, slight way, a smile designed to make Germany's insides twist and his cheeks burn.
"Give it here," Norway said again, holding out his hand. And when Germany obliged, he simply took it and set about coating his fingers, simple as could be. "Like what you saw there?" he asked.
"I – yes," Germany said. He practically groaned the words. His cheeks were burning, and it was only made worse when Norway swept his gaze over Germany's body, lingering on his arousal, the undeniable proof that he liked what he saw very, very much.
"Come over here, then. I'll get cold if you're away from me too long, y'know." Norway passed the lube back to him, and waited for him to slick up his hand, and gestured for him to come over. The words, the both of them knew, were a lie; the air in the hotel room was warm enough, and Norway was not the sort to be bothered by cold. But the substance of his meaning made clear that he felt the way Germany did, that he wanted his touch, perhaps even craved it. It was with that in mind that Germany edged over and bent to kiss him.
Norway's mouth was soft under Germany's lips, parting slightly for his tongue. One of Norway's hands slipped up, cupping the back of his head to hold him there, drawing out a kiss that muffled a soft moan. And the other hand... Germany realized, after a moment, that it was down below, that Norway was touching himself. He sucked in a breath and slid his hand between them, nudging Norway's hand aside to tend to him.
The sound Norway made when Germany stroked him was low and breathless, matching the way he rocked up into his touch. But it was barely anything compared to the choked gasp Germany let out when Norway touched him, slim slick fingers wrapping around his cock with a sureness that he could not compare to anything else he had ever felt.
They stroked each other in the dim light, their touches falling into a steady rhythm, their bodies following too as they thrust into one another's hands. Germany released Norway's lips, ceased kissing him in favour of pressing slick kisses to the soft skin at his throat. His actions had an ulterior motive: not only because he knew that Norway loved the sensation, but also to hear the soft sounds he made. Even now, Norway was quiet, but there was no way to hide his gasps, the sharp intake of breath, the way he moaned as Germany slid his thumb over the head of his cock. His fingers tightened in Germany's hair and coiled more firmly around his arousal, until Germany was left panting as he thrust through the tight ring of his fingers.
But even as he shivered over Norway's body, Germany found himself wondering – the position was awkward, and perhaps – it might be better if -
He took in a shuddering breath and slowed himself, his movements and touches. Beneath him, Norway breathed a soft word of confusion, free hand moving to touch at Germany's face.
"Something wrong?"
"No." He moved to kiss him, trying to keep it soft, and only succeeded in groaning against Norway's mouth as he stroked him. "I... I thought, perhaps, if you close your legs..."
Norway was quiet for a second, blinking up at him in hazy confusion. Then he smiled, letting out a soft huff of a laugh. "Ain't very often I get someone asking me to close my legs in bed," he teased.
"I - " Germany's cheeks flushed scarlet as he scrambled for a way to explain himself. "That isn't what I meant! I -"
But his words became a moan as Norway's fingers stroked along his cock, slow and tight. "Belay that," Norway whispered, a hint of a smile in his low, breathy voice. "I know what you're after, and you can have it." And he gripped at Germany's hair, drawing him down for a kiss, soft and tender and saying quiet plainly that he didn't mind the idea at all.
It didn't take long for them to rearrange themselves, Germany easing off of Norway long enough to let him move. More lube eased the way, Norway doing him the favour of stroking a slick hand along Germany's cock before tending to himself, sweeping his fingers between his thighs, between his legs. Even though it was only a moment, it was all Germany could do to remain patient. He pressed his mouth to Norway's throat, trailing soft kisses there, waiting as Norway took his time, took a moment to touch him once again before finally murmuring a word of assent.
He bracketed his arms above Norway's head, sinking his fingers into his soft hair. Sprawling above Norway, his thighs on either side of him, he hesitated a moment before kissing him again.
Norway's hands were at his waist, his hips, and perhaps he decided he was finished with taking his time, as he slid his hand between them, taking Germany's cock and directing him where to put it, his other hand gripping him at the hip and drawing him down.
The kiss muffled the low groan Germany made against Norway's mouth.
This was something they had not done together before, and as he thrust between Norway's thighs Germany couldn't help but appreciate the way it felt. While Norway was built far more lightly than himself, he was sturdy and strong, the kind to spend his days hiking or skiing when time allowed. It was so easy to appreciate the way it felt to thrust against him, their bodies rocking together.
Their lips barely left each other for a moment. Norway kept him close, kissing him deeply, his lips parted and damp and pliant. Positioned as they were, with Germany's hands sinking deep into Norway's hair, and Norway clinging desperately to him, Germany feared that it wouldn't be enough, that Norway wouldn't be satisfied with going untouched. But to judge by how Norway reacted, shivering underneath him, soft sounds muffled against Germany's mouth, what friction he did get must have been satisfying.
Germany wanted to hear him.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his mouth to Norway's throat. Lingered there, sweeping his tongue over his pulse as Norway gasped and tilted his head back. The need to explain sat at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say it; but it seemed Norway understood, as while usually he might try to stay quiet by biting at his lip or even covering his own mouth, instead he allowed himself, to breath, digging his fingernails into Germany's skin.
Even then, the sounds he made were little more than breathy gasps and sighs and the occasional soft moan.
Germany closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it. He shuddered as he thrust against him, rocked his hips in time with his partner's heavy breathing. There was something about this, the way it felt to rut against him and fuck his thighs while Norway held onto him and allowed it, that made Germany moan. It wasn't just the sensation itself, but how Norway kept his legs pressed tight together for his pleasure. The way his slim hands gripped at Germany's hips and pulled him closer, made him thrust harder against him.
He buried his face against Norway's neck, clinging to his hair as he shuddered against him. Almost unconsciously, his fingers cupped Norway's skull, seeking that soft coiled strand at the back of his neck.
When Norway gasped and clung to him, digging his fingernails into Germany's hips with a force that would leave marks later, a sharpness that made Germany gasp – it was clear that he'd found what he was looking for.
Germany wrapped it around his fingers, tugging at it as he thrust against him. The soft yes that forced its way past Norway's lips was almost enough to make him come. As it was, it was the way Norway raked his fingernails along his skin as he came that did it, the way he dug deep into Germany's flesh in a way he world not have if he'd realized it, sharp points of pain that drove him on as deep in the back of his mind a small part of him that was still coherent realized that his partner had orgasmed without so much as being touched.
A few more thrusts and he was done, shivering as he sought Norway's mouth to kiss him, muffling his moans against his willing lips. When they finally parted, gasping, Germany practically collapsed on top of him, pressing his face to Norway's neck.
For a moment, they were both quiet. The only sound was their panting, slowly evening out until they were relaxed and at ease.
Norway slid his fingertips along Germany's spine and shoulders, the touch gentle, almost apologetic, as if he only then realized what he had been scratching him the whole time but didn't want to say anything outright. Germany considered reassuring him, and decided against it. While usually Norway was not quite so demonstratively enthusiastic, it was hardly the first time this had happened.
He pressed a soft kiss to Norway's throat and tried to think of something appropriate to say. At times like this, he always found himself floundering, at a loss for words. While Norway was not generally the type to desire romantic nothings, it still seemed as if the moment called for something of the sort. But what?
It was Norway who spoke first. "I'm glad you wanted to spend the night with me," he said. His words were a sigh.
Germany could feel his cheeks heating. "Of course I wanted to!" he said – and then added, more quietly, "I can't imagine that I ever wouldn't."
It seemed too intimate a thing to admit, and he realized that as soon as he said it. For a moment both he and Norway were silent, as if turning over the idea together. Finally, Norway stroked Germany's cheek. "Even so," he said.
"Even so," Germany repeated, closing his eyes against the touch. It was tender, and while it was not the first time he had experienced such gentleness from Norway, he wanted to enjoy it while he had it.
"Mmhm." Another soft, light touch, trailing through Germany's hair before resting at his shoulder. "We ought to get cleaned up. Long day tomorrow."
For that, Germany absolutely agreed.
Strictly speaking, cleaning up took longer than necessary. As soon as they were beneath the warm spray of the shower, Norway pulled Germany close to him and kissed him long and firm and deep. After that, it was hard to resist the heat of his mouth, the shape of Norway's body against him.
Soon Germany found himself on his knees, Norway's fingers wrapped in his hair as Germany caressed him with his lips and tongue. Even though the sound of the shower muffled Norway's gasps, Germany could still feel his reaction in the sensation of fingernails raking his scalp.
Anticipated or not, it was worth taking the time for this, to feel Norway's body tense, hips jerking against Germany's hands as he held him in place against the shower tile.
Norway slipped from the bathroom quickly after they were finished, murmuring something about needing to send a text, leaving Germany alone to brush his teeth and bask in the satisfaction of the evening.
When Germany joined him, he found Norway perched on the end of the bed, wrapped in a white hotel bathrobe, his damp hair already curling in waves as it dried. Norway glanced up, then resumed typing his message. "Was letting Iceland know I wouldn't be back tonight," he murmured.
"I see," Germany said, sinking down next to him. "Would he worry?"
Norway considered this, shifted a little to lean against Germany, then nestled closer when Germany curled an arm around his shoulders. "Says he doesn't. Far's I can see it, that's a damn lie, mind you." He yawned. "He'd like to pretend he doesn't give a hoot about what I do."
"But you both know that he cares?"
"Right. That's why I don't mind." Norway looked up, tilting his head to kiss Germany's cheek. "He said he won't wait up for me," Norway said. "And that he doesn't want to know." His eyes were laughing, as if he found his brother's reaction to the prospect of him staying with someone to be quite funny.
With that look on his face, it was impossible for Germany to resist drawing him closer – so he did, and dipped his head to steal a soft, gentle kiss.
The question was at the tip of his tongue. Should he ask? All of the times they had enjoyed each other's company up until this point had been incidental addendums to occasions when they would have seen each other anyway: meetings, conferences, international events. The slices of time they were able to catch together were pleasant, but they had never gone out of their way to arrange anything outside of that. Germany remembered how Norway had mentioned it earlier that evening, saying that he'd like to see him on a personal visit, if he could make the time. As if he would ever refuse! It was true that they were both very, very busy, but of course he wanted to see Norway if -
"Seems like you have summat on your mind," Norway murmured. He had curled up close to Germany, nestling against him with his head on his shoulder.
"I..." Germany flushed with embarrassment. He hadn't said a word! And yet, somehow, Norway knew. "Yes," he admitted. "I do."
"Could tell me about it. If you like."
"I remembered what you said earlier this evening. You said you would like to spend some time with me." Germany took a deep breath, stroking Norway's hair, tucking a damp strand behind his ear. "I was wondering if you would like to compare schedules."
"Don't see why not." Norway nuzzled against him, nose brushing his neck. "Wouldn't hurt to look things over, see if we could make the time. I'm glad you'd like to."
Difficult though it was to detach himself from Norway and fetch his phone, Germany managed it. They nestled together again, and set about the challenging task of finding time to meet.
"I've the first week in September free."
"Maybe – oh. No, I'll be meeting with Austria then. Second weekend of October?"
"Can't. Got that one booked. Beginning of November, then."
"No, I think..."
It was becoming clear that, in addition to the casual nature of their relations, there were practical reasons why they hadn't tried this before.
Norway's lips pressed in a tight line as he scrolled through his calendar, trying to find a suitable slot. "Third week of February?"
"Ah... I think so, yes. Possibly."
"Could go to my place," Norway mused, staring down at his phone. "The weather ain't the best, mind you. Unless..."
Germany held back a comment that he would be going there to visit Norway, not to admire his climate. "Unless?"
"D'you like skiing?" Norway's gaze lifted, meeting Germany's eyes in a hopeful look that he so rarely saw on him. "We could make a trip of it. Since we both have the time. If you'd like."
Even without the yearning in Norway's voice, Germany would have agreed. A skiing trip at Norway's place, with his beautiful landscape, and Norway himself for company. How could anyone say no?
"That sounds wonderful," Germany said. "I -"
The rest of the words didn't have a chance to leave his lips. Norway kissed him before he could say anything else, and they fell back onto the mattress together, calendars and schedules forgotten.
Neither of them were good with words, but Norway's joy was clear. And as he wrapped his arms around him, Germany decided that it would be worth the wait.
Germany woke before the alarm clock and rested in the dark, listening to the slow, even sound of Norway's breathing.
It was early, and there would be a bit of time before the day began. Later, there would be a few hours before they would have to turn themselves toward business, the matters that the day would require them to attend to.
Germany listened, and waited, and let Norway sleep. Having him nearby was enough.
The one thing that surprised Germany more than anything else was not that he had become so attached, but that Norway felt the same way, if all of the evidence that pointed to it was correct. Germany knew himself, and it was with reluctance that he had to admit to himself that it was not unexpected that he would grow so fond of someone he was sleeping with. But that Norway would return his feelings....
At one time, he never would have imagined it possible. But at one time, he wouldn't have given any thought to whether Norway was passionate about anything at all, least of all Germany himself.
He could still feel the warmth of Norway's arms around him, the sensation of his mouth against his own, happiness radiating from him as they agreed to meet again.
It was a simple fact that they were both private people. Germany decided that the best way to consider the matter was to appreciate that Norway had allowed him to see this side of him.
Movement beside him distracted him from his train of thought. Shifting followed by a soft sigh. "You awake?" Norway's soft, low murmur.
"Yes."
"Mm." More warmth as Norway curled closer to him, long arm sliding about his waist, a soft kiss pressed to his hair. "G'morn, then."
There was something about the warmth in Norway's voice that made Germany conclude – after only a second's thought – that if he were a different sort of person, if Norway were more like Italy, Norway would suggest that they spend the entire day in bed together.
As it was, Germany had a feeling that he would find it much more difficult than usual to get ready for the day.
As if reading his mind, Norway nosed at him again. "We've still got ourselves a while, here," he said, stroking Germany's hair. "And more time than that before this thing starts proper. D'you want to have breakfast with me?" His voice was soft and drowsy, and rendered even more attractive than usual because of it.
"Of course." Upon reflection, Germany was somewhat surprised at the suggestion. It was one thing to meet in the night; but in the bright of day, in public, with other nations present in the city, and the two of them being private people, as they were -
"Reckon it won't be that hard to find some place quiet." Norway kissed at his temple, murmuring it. "And it ain't as if we have anything to hide, anyhow."
Germany drew in a deep breath. Those words said so much. To think that their relationship had begun as nothing but physical intimacy, building up from mere attraction to – not necessarily something substantial or long-lasting, but at least something more. "I understand," he said softly, as he wrapped his arms around Norway to draw him close. "I'm sure we won't have difficulty finding somewhere quiet to talk."
And if their personal relations became known to other parties, he decided, there was no reason to object to it.
They eventually parted, not without great reluctance, as the alarm clocks on their phones went off in sync with each other.
Norway slipped out of bed with a sigh, and bent to pick up his clothes from where he'd left them the night before.
"D'you remember where we were last night? Where we were watching the acrobats on the boat. Nice lookout over the harbour, there."
Germany nodded, sitting up in bed. "Yes, I remember where it is," he said, raking his hair out of his eyes. "Would you like me to meet you there?"
"That'll do."
They parted quickly. After dressing, Norway turned to him, kissing his cheek before offering him a smile and slipping from the room. There was no need to say goodbye; they would be seeing each other very soon.
Even being apart for such a small amount of time seemed like too much.
You're being unreasonable, Germany reminded himself as he proceeded to get ready for the day. You only feel this way because you had the pleasure of waking up beside him. Soon you will be apart again, and then it will be months before you will see him again.
However, the knowledge that he would see him – that they had arranged it – was some comfort, as was the memory of the smile that lit up Norway's face when Germany agreed to the idea of the ski trip.
That, at least, was something.
The morning was clear and bright, with cool sea air coming in from the harbour. The city was beginning to stir.
Germany made his way down to the waterfront, walking past elaborate beds of bright-blooming flowers and hydrangea bushes and trees dipping their leaves low. It didn't take long for him to reach the meeting place, the street overlooking the harbour with the tall ship sitting calmly in the water, its mast reaching skyward. There, standing with his arms folded on the railing, looking out into the harbour, was Norway.
Germany paused a moment to watch him, taking in the sight of the early sunlight on his hair, the quiet set to his expression. There was something about the way he looked at that moment, completely without a care about anyone around him, that he would want to keep for a long time.
He looked only long enough to hold that picture in his mind, then went to him.
As Germany joined him at the railing, his gaze wasn't directed out at the harbour; he only had eyes for Norway. Norway, who turned to look at him with the slightest of smiles on his lips.
"G'morning," Norway said, even if he'd already said it once that day. He shifted, leaning against Germany slightly, the gesture sending a flush spreading over Germany's cheeks.
"You're here earlier than expected."
"Aye, that I am. But you're early too, ain't you." Norway leaned in a fraction more before turning to look out at the harbour again. "Nice day, I think."
"Yes," Germany said, his eyes still on Norway's face, taking in the way his hair fell against his cheek.
There was a pause. "Reckon we ought to go get breakfast. Then you can look at me as much as you like."
"I -"
"I don't mind," Norway said, giving Germany's arm a squeeze. For a second, his face brightened into a grin. It was gone as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving only a slight crinkling at the corner of his eyes. "Come on, then. I could do with some coffee."
Unable to object to any of it, Germany let him lead.
As the sun spilled light into the streets, he felt warm.
He'd cherish what time they had together.