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roesslyngTitle: Sunday Afternoon's Interlude
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: 18+
Length: 1600
Summary: Norway plans to settle down to some reading. Denmark interrupts him.
Other: Written for Kuro. Posted in my personal journal. (Original entry)
Sunday Afternoon's Interlude
The afternoon sun filtered lazily in through the window, its honey-yellow beams catching the dust dancing in the air and spilling across the hardwood floor of Norway’s library. The large room was lined at all sides by sturdy shelves reaching up to the ceiling, filled with books of all types. In the centre of the room were some comfortable chairs and an endtable where a cup of tea sat steaming.
Norway hummed quietly to himself as he brushed his fingers over the spines of the old books. Kielland. Lie. Ah, Ibsen. The slightest of smiles touched his lips as his index finger fell upon a worn copy of Hedda Gabler. He drew the book out, pleased by the sensation of the familiar weight in his hands. Yes. That one, today.
The sound of a door slamming down the hallway made him look up with a start, nearly dropping the book. In his surprise he nearly forgot to breathe; then after a moment he heard the sound of heavy, all-too-familiar footsteps and a loud, obnoxious voice calling out.
“Norwayyyy! Hey, Nor! Where are ya’?”
Norway groaned and slid the book back into its place on the shelf. It seemed he would get no reading done that afternoon.
When Denmark burst in he found Norway with his arms folded and his lips pursed, a displeased expression on his face. “Aft’rnoon,” Denmark said, nudging the library door shut with his foot. “Y’look like someone pissed in yer breakfast. Not happy t’see me?”
Norway sighed. “Most people would call, rather than coming over to someone’s home unannounced,” he said dryly. He leaned against the bookcase and gave Denmark a disapproving look, knowing full well that now that he was here, getting rid of him would be almost impossible. “Was planning to do some reading today. Alone.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Denmark approached him, a familiar grin on his face, his eyes bright. He set his hands firmly on Norway’s waist, leaning in until they were nose-to-nose, and Norway suddenly regretted not moving away from the wall when he had the chance. “It’d be just like you to stay inside with your tea an’ your dusty old books when it’s so nice out.”
Before Norway could speak, Denmark pressed a warm, firm kiss to his lips. Not about to let him get away with it so easily, Norway didn’t respond, remaining tight-lipped and tense in his hold just long enough to drive home his point. When he drew away, disappointed, Norway softened and tilted his head upward to catch his lips, a gesture which drew a chuckle from Denmark, who kissed him again, his large hands trailing along Norway’s sides. Norway sighed, the tension in his shoulders ebbing a bit.
“You asshole,” he muttered when they finally broke the kiss. Despite his harsh words, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yep,” Denmark agreed. “That’s me.” He smiled broadly, then stole another quick kiss. “Now, c’mon. It’s gorgeous out today. Nice ‘n warm – y’haven’t had a lot’ve days like this yet. Come out walking with me.”
Norway sighed and looked out the window. Spring had only arrived just recently, but the greenery was quickly spreading, and the sky was bright and sunny. Even so, he was reluctant to allow Denmark the satisfaction of winning so easily. “Maybe I would rather stay inside. Why would I want to go out with you?”
“’Cause you think I’m hot,” Denmark replied cheerfully, nosing Norway’s hair.
“You are,” he admitted. “But you don’t have any manners.”
“C’mon Nor, don’t be like that.” Their eyes met, and when Denmark saw the disapproving look Norway was giving him, he sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll call next time.”
“Fine.” Pause “I’ll go out with you, then. If you’ll call next time.” Though they both knew he would not, they pretended he would, as they always did in such situations. When Denmark kissed him again he responded with a playful nip before drawing him close. It was fine, Norway thought. It really was – his intentions were good, and so he didn’t mind... much.
He certainly didn’t mind when the kiss deepened and he found himself pressed firmly against the bookshelf, trapped between it and Denmark. Letting out a low growl of appreciation, Norway slid his arms around Denmark’s broad shoulders, drawing him closer, pressing. When a slick tongue stroked his lips he offered no resistance, parting and drawing it into his mouth, sucking eagerly. At that point Norway realized that they were certainly not going to be leaving any time soon.
Well. Fair enough. He would be quite content to stay where he was for a half hour or so.
When they drew away they stared at each other, pressed close and panting. “Hmm.” Denmark nipped at Norway’s lower lip, his eyes bright, having the sort of amused expression typical of him, which Norway found both attractive as hell and annoying as fuck at the same time. “Y’look kind’ve flustered.”
“You think?” Norway replied dryly.
“Mmhmm.” Another nip, then light kisses trailing along his jaw, until Denmark’s breath fluttered over Norway’s ear, making him shiver and squirm in his arms. “Y’know,” he drawled, pressing him more firmly against the bookcase, “Seems almost like yer changin’ your mind. Like ya’ don’t want to go out at all.”
“I do, I just – Nngh.” Norway drew in a hiss of breath as large hands slid down to cup his ass and a hot tongue stroked the shell of his ear. “Oh god, you bastard...”
“What’d I do now?” Of course, Denmark knew very well what he was doing, as he kissed Norway again before he could reply and shoved him against the shelf, sliding his thigh between Norway’s legs. The action made Norway groan, the sound muffled against Denmark’s mouth, the friction as he rocked his hips making him shiver.
When Denmark broke the kiss again, Norway looked up at him, wordless and inwardly cursed him and that bloody smirk on his face. “What’d you say?” Not to mention his teasing. “Didn’t catch that.” Damn him.
“Denmark,” Norway said flatly, “If you don’t shut up and fuck me, I’ll rip your goddamn head off and shove it up your ass.”
That did the trick, much to Norway’s relief. Their mouths met again, slick and eager, kissing and nipping and biting, and meanwhile Denmark’s hands went to work. One thing that could be said in his favour was that he was an expert at stripping his lovers. In little time Norway’s shirt was unbuttoned and his trousers and boxers down, soon to be kicked into a corner of the room.
As Denmark was unbuttoning his fly, Norway remembered something of vital importance. “Ugh, god damn it.”
“What?”
“Lube.”
“Got it covered.” Denmark winked and shoved his hand in the pocket of his light spring jacket. Norway stared at him.
“Do you normally carry lube around in your pocket?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Norway rolled his eyes, deciding he wouldn’t dignify that with a proper answer. “Just hurry up, you asshole.”
“Patience, Nor.” Denmark’s voice was a low purr. He leaned in close and stole a kiss, silencing any protest. Norway, for his part, was perfectly fine with that.
The rest took little time. Denmark drew him close and muttered instructions against his lips while Norway responded in turn, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders and shifting to allow him access. His gestures were expert, clever hands and slick fingers delving into certain places, sliding in agonizingly slowly, making Norway shiver and groan against his mouth.
In short time Norway was braced against the bookshelf, thankful for its good, solid construction. Arms wrapped around Denmark’s shoulders, legs around his waist, he stared up at him, dazed and flushed and impatient, and when Denmark finally entered, hard and slick, it was all Norway could do to stop himself from crying out. He silenced himself with Denmark’s lips, growling against his mouth.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly; then they were moving, hard and fast and good. The kiss broke and Norway tilted his head back, arching his neck to give Denmark room to press hard, slick kisses, small bites, gestures that made him gasp and hiss and growl. The shelves dug into his back and his head knocked painfully against the wood, yet he didn’t care, lost in their feverish actions. Through his hot, dazed state he could hear Denmark’s low, rumbling growl of pleasure, muffled against his throat, and the occasional low groan as he thrust deep into him. Norway hissed, moving into him, clinging tightly as words slipped past his lips, gasps and demands for more, faster, harder, yes – and that encouraged him, made him quicken his pace.
Closer, until finally Norway was brought over. He clung as tightly as he could, groaning, until Denmark covered his mouth, silencing him with lips and tongue. In his dazed, dizzy state Norway could feel him moving and could hear Denmark’s quick, heavy breath. Finally he finished, too, biting down on Norway’s shoulder to muffle the sound of his pleasure.
Slowly, slowly, they came down from their high. Slowly they broke the kiss, lingering close, nose-to-nose, panting, sweat beading on their brows. Slowly Denmark withdrew, though he still held Norway braced against the bookcase. They exchanged a few slow, firm kisses, and Norway savoured the moment, knowing it would only be a short time before Denmark would speak and ruin the calm.
“Sooo, Nor. How about that walk?”
Norway rolled his eyes. “Shower first,” he mumbled, nipping Denmark’s lower lip. “A cold one.”
“Mm. Fine.” A pause. “That change’ve clothes I left last time is still here, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
There was little more to be said after that. They showered together and dressed in short time. When Norway finally stepped out, his damp hair drying in the sunlight, he walked beside his friend and lover in relaxed quiet, satisfied to be in such company.
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: 18+
Length: 1600
Summary: Norway plans to settle down to some reading. Denmark interrupts him.
Other: Written for Kuro. Posted in my personal journal. (Original entry)
Sunday Afternoon's Interlude
The afternoon sun filtered lazily in through the window, its honey-yellow beams catching the dust dancing in the air and spilling across the hardwood floor of Norway’s library. The large room was lined at all sides by sturdy shelves reaching up to the ceiling, filled with books of all types. In the centre of the room were some comfortable chairs and an endtable where a cup of tea sat steaming.
Norway hummed quietly to himself as he brushed his fingers over the spines of the old books. Kielland. Lie. Ah, Ibsen. The slightest of smiles touched his lips as his index finger fell upon a worn copy of Hedda Gabler. He drew the book out, pleased by the sensation of the familiar weight in his hands. Yes. That one, today.
The sound of a door slamming down the hallway made him look up with a start, nearly dropping the book. In his surprise he nearly forgot to breathe; then after a moment he heard the sound of heavy, all-too-familiar footsteps and a loud, obnoxious voice calling out.
“Norwayyyy! Hey, Nor! Where are ya’?”
Norway groaned and slid the book back into its place on the shelf. It seemed he would get no reading done that afternoon.
When Denmark burst in he found Norway with his arms folded and his lips pursed, a displeased expression on his face. “Aft’rnoon,” Denmark said, nudging the library door shut with his foot. “Y’look like someone pissed in yer breakfast. Not happy t’see me?”
Norway sighed. “Most people would call, rather than coming over to someone’s home unannounced,” he said dryly. He leaned against the bookcase and gave Denmark a disapproving look, knowing full well that now that he was here, getting rid of him would be almost impossible. “Was planning to do some reading today. Alone.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Denmark approached him, a familiar grin on his face, his eyes bright. He set his hands firmly on Norway’s waist, leaning in until they were nose-to-nose, and Norway suddenly regretted not moving away from the wall when he had the chance. “It’d be just like you to stay inside with your tea an’ your dusty old books when it’s so nice out.”
Before Norway could speak, Denmark pressed a warm, firm kiss to his lips. Not about to let him get away with it so easily, Norway didn’t respond, remaining tight-lipped and tense in his hold just long enough to drive home his point. When he drew away, disappointed, Norway softened and tilted his head upward to catch his lips, a gesture which drew a chuckle from Denmark, who kissed him again, his large hands trailing along Norway’s sides. Norway sighed, the tension in his shoulders ebbing a bit.
“You asshole,” he muttered when they finally broke the kiss. Despite his harsh words, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yep,” Denmark agreed. “That’s me.” He smiled broadly, then stole another quick kiss. “Now, c’mon. It’s gorgeous out today. Nice ‘n warm – y’haven’t had a lot’ve days like this yet. Come out walking with me.”
Norway sighed and looked out the window. Spring had only arrived just recently, but the greenery was quickly spreading, and the sky was bright and sunny. Even so, he was reluctant to allow Denmark the satisfaction of winning so easily. “Maybe I would rather stay inside. Why would I want to go out with you?”
“’Cause you think I’m hot,” Denmark replied cheerfully, nosing Norway’s hair.
“You are,” he admitted. “But you don’t have any manners.”
“C’mon Nor, don’t be like that.” Their eyes met, and when Denmark saw the disapproving look Norway was giving him, he sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll call next time.”
“Fine.” Pause “I’ll go out with you, then. If you’ll call next time.” Though they both knew he would not, they pretended he would, as they always did in such situations. When Denmark kissed him again he responded with a playful nip before drawing him close. It was fine, Norway thought. It really was – his intentions were good, and so he didn’t mind... much.
He certainly didn’t mind when the kiss deepened and he found himself pressed firmly against the bookshelf, trapped between it and Denmark. Letting out a low growl of appreciation, Norway slid his arms around Denmark’s broad shoulders, drawing him closer, pressing. When a slick tongue stroked his lips he offered no resistance, parting and drawing it into his mouth, sucking eagerly. At that point Norway realized that they were certainly not going to be leaving any time soon.
Well. Fair enough. He would be quite content to stay where he was for a half hour or so.
When they drew away they stared at each other, pressed close and panting. “Hmm.” Denmark nipped at Norway’s lower lip, his eyes bright, having the sort of amused expression typical of him, which Norway found both attractive as hell and annoying as fuck at the same time. “Y’look kind’ve flustered.”
“You think?” Norway replied dryly.
“Mmhmm.” Another nip, then light kisses trailing along his jaw, until Denmark’s breath fluttered over Norway’s ear, making him shiver and squirm in his arms. “Y’know,” he drawled, pressing him more firmly against the bookcase, “Seems almost like yer changin’ your mind. Like ya’ don’t want to go out at all.”
“I do, I just – Nngh.” Norway drew in a hiss of breath as large hands slid down to cup his ass and a hot tongue stroked the shell of his ear. “Oh god, you bastard...”
“What’d I do now?” Of course, Denmark knew very well what he was doing, as he kissed Norway again before he could reply and shoved him against the shelf, sliding his thigh between Norway’s legs. The action made Norway groan, the sound muffled against Denmark’s mouth, the friction as he rocked his hips making him shiver.
When Denmark broke the kiss again, Norway looked up at him, wordless and inwardly cursed him and that bloody smirk on his face. “What’d you say?” Not to mention his teasing. “Didn’t catch that.” Damn him.
“Denmark,” Norway said flatly, “If you don’t shut up and fuck me, I’ll rip your goddamn head off and shove it up your ass.”
That did the trick, much to Norway’s relief. Their mouths met again, slick and eager, kissing and nipping and biting, and meanwhile Denmark’s hands went to work. One thing that could be said in his favour was that he was an expert at stripping his lovers. In little time Norway’s shirt was unbuttoned and his trousers and boxers down, soon to be kicked into a corner of the room.
As Denmark was unbuttoning his fly, Norway remembered something of vital importance. “Ugh, god damn it.”
“What?”
“Lube.”
“Got it covered.” Denmark winked and shoved his hand in the pocket of his light spring jacket. Norway stared at him.
“Do you normally carry lube around in your pocket?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Norway rolled his eyes, deciding he wouldn’t dignify that with a proper answer. “Just hurry up, you asshole.”
“Patience, Nor.” Denmark’s voice was a low purr. He leaned in close and stole a kiss, silencing any protest. Norway, for his part, was perfectly fine with that.
The rest took little time. Denmark drew him close and muttered instructions against his lips while Norway responded in turn, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders and shifting to allow him access. His gestures were expert, clever hands and slick fingers delving into certain places, sliding in agonizingly slowly, making Norway shiver and groan against his mouth.
In short time Norway was braced against the bookshelf, thankful for its good, solid construction. Arms wrapped around Denmark’s shoulders, legs around his waist, he stared up at him, dazed and flushed and impatient, and when Denmark finally entered, hard and slick, it was all Norway could do to stop himself from crying out. He silenced himself with Denmark’s lips, growling against his mouth.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly; then they were moving, hard and fast and good. The kiss broke and Norway tilted his head back, arching his neck to give Denmark room to press hard, slick kisses, small bites, gestures that made him gasp and hiss and growl. The shelves dug into his back and his head knocked painfully against the wood, yet he didn’t care, lost in their feverish actions. Through his hot, dazed state he could hear Denmark’s low, rumbling growl of pleasure, muffled against his throat, and the occasional low groan as he thrust deep into him. Norway hissed, moving into him, clinging tightly as words slipped past his lips, gasps and demands for more, faster, harder, yes – and that encouraged him, made him quicken his pace.
Closer, until finally Norway was brought over. He clung as tightly as he could, groaning, until Denmark covered his mouth, silencing him with lips and tongue. In his dazed, dizzy state Norway could feel him moving and could hear Denmark’s quick, heavy breath. Finally he finished, too, biting down on Norway’s shoulder to muffle the sound of his pleasure.
Slowly, slowly, they came down from their high. Slowly they broke the kiss, lingering close, nose-to-nose, panting, sweat beading on their brows. Slowly Denmark withdrew, though he still held Norway braced against the bookcase. They exchanged a few slow, firm kisses, and Norway savoured the moment, knowing it would only be a short time before Denmark would speak and ruin the calm.
“Sooo, Nor. How about that walk?”
Norway rolled his eyes. “Shower first,” he mumbled, nipping Denmark’s lower lip. “A cold one.”
“Mm. Fine.” A pause. “That change’ve clothes I left last time is still here, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
There was little more to be said after that. They showered together and dressed in short time. When Norway finally stepped out, his damp hair drying in the sunlight, he walked beside his friend and lover in relaxed quiet, satisfied to be in such company.
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