Starry Night [Estonia/Poland]

[roesslyng]

Title: Starry Night
Characters/Pairing: Estonia/Poland; background Finland/Sweden and past Estonia/Finland
Rating: 18+
Length: 11,100
Summary: The progression of a new relationship. They don't match perfectly, but they could be good for each other.
Other: Sequel to Small Hours. Posted on the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post)



Starry Night

The airport hummed with people. Some rushed about, heading toward departures, looking scruffy and harried. Others loitered by the arrivals area, waiting for their loved ones. As the incoming flight was announced Estonia looked up from where he sat, tilted his head, and listened. Until that point he had been quickly typing, but as he realized what flight it was, they stilled their motions.

That was it. That was the one.

He licked his lips, shut down his notebook computer, and slipped it into his shoulder bag. This is it, he thought. Strangely, his hands refused to stop shaking no matter how hard he tried to stop them from doing so.

There isn't any reason for you to be nervous, he told himself. However, though he thought it, there was little in him that actually believed it. He had many reasons to be nervous, all of them were contained in the person he was waiting for, whose three-o-clock flight from Warsaw had just arrived right on schedule.

Estonia drew in a deep breath, gathered his nerves, and headed off in the direction of the arrivals area.



It was the afternoon of the eighteenth of February. Days ago he had been at his brother's house, celebrating Lithuania's thousandth birthday. There had been light and laughter and drinks all around, so many kind words given and embraces exchanged. Though Estonia engaged in the revels with the rest of them, his mind had not been as concentrated on his brother's happiness as it should have been. The night before the celebrations had been strange, almost surreal, and while he laughed and drank with family and friends his thoughts kept drifting back to it, and he had difficulty believing the entire thing had happened at all. Yet thought he questioned it, there was no question that the exchange in the night's small hours had taken place. When Estonia raised his glass to toast his brother, his eyes locked with Poland's across the table, and he stumbled over his words before managing a graceful recovery.

Poland. It was strange how they had become so familiar so quickly, to the point that it seemed an unreality. Their contact after the celebration was minimal, as they found little time to see each other alone. They acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, and it was only on the morning of Poland's departure that for a brief, fleeting period the dream-like feeling was experienced a second time. Restless, Estonia had risen before the sun and shuffled out of his room. A glow under Poland's door showed that he too was awake. He found him fully-dressed and packing to leave.

"So soon?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah. But like, don't worry." Poland looked up and offered him a sunny smile. "You'll be seeing me soon. Wednesday night."

They exchanged kisses in the dim light. All too soon Poland was gone again, and Estonia was left feeling as though he had been dreaming. Even when he received the e-mail indicating the time Poland would be arriving in Tallinn, the entire situation seemed completely impossible.

However, in the arrivals area at the Tallinn airport, reality hit Estonia like a brick – or maybe that was just Poland.

"Oof!"

"Estonia! Oh my god I'm totally happy to see you! Like it's been – well, only been like two days or something, but whatever, I've been so busy, oh my god, and it feels like it's been a month or something and— hey, are you all right?" Poland paused in his babbling to look up at Estonia, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he wheezed. "It's just, you're squeezing me."

"What? Oh!" Poland released him and shoved his hands in his pockets, cheeks flaring red. "Sorry. I just. Uh. I'm like, really really happy to see you."

"And I'm happy to see you. I've missed you." The words slipped out before he had a chance to restrain them, and though he looked away upon speaking them, somehow he didn't mind. It was the truth. Though it had only been a short time, he had missed him. What a strange feeling.



The drive home from the airport was a rather awkward one. Poland chattered, appearing not to notice how nervous Estonia was or the way his hands shook at the steering wheel. It was not until they arrived and stepped inside out of the cold that Poland gave any indication of knowing something was the matter.

"Are you all right?" he asked before either of them had so much as taken their shoes off.

"Of course I am," Estonia replied as he unbuttoned his coat. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem weird."

"Well, you're weird too," Estonia teased, smiling slightly as he looked toward him, hoping he would drop the topic.

Poland, however, did not take the bait. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, hands on his hips. "Don't think you can distract me that easily. Remember, I'm not dumb. I just act that way."

"Right. Don't worry, I wouldn't forget. You made sure of that." He remembered Poland's comment on the matter, that night before Lithuania's birthday when the both of them, suffering from insomnia, had shared tea and kisses and witty banter in the kitchen. No, he wouldn't forget that easily. "I just..." He groped for the words but, coming up empty, he gave up. However, though he was unable to think of a tactful explanation, Poland was still staring at him expectantly. "You aren't going to let me get away with changing the subject, are you," he murmured dryly.

"Nope," Poland replied. "So you're gonna have to ‘splain, whether you like it or not."

"And you're not going to even let me get in the door before I go about explaining?" Estonia asked, exasperated.

"Nope again." Poland pursed his lips, then took Estonia's hands and tugged him close. "Come on, now. What's up?"

Estonia fought back a blush, and failed. Poland's hands were delicate and impossibly soft. "It's just. Ah. It seems strange, you know?" Poland raised an eyebrow, indicating that no, he didn't know, and Estonia sighed. "You. Me. All of this. What happened was so sudden and everything went so fast, and then you were gone again, so it was like it never happened at all. But now you're here, and it's still so weird, and I. Um. I don't know what to think."

Poland listened, his head tilted, eyes bright and curious. When Estonia was finished, he asked, "Is that all?"

"What do you mean, ‘is that all'?"

"That's what I mean." Estonia stared at him. Poland continued. "See, if all you're worried about is that this is like really weird, then that's okay with me, ‘cause like, it is totally weird." Pausing a moment, he seemed to consider something, staring at the floor, nibbling his lip. "To tell you the truth, I was kind of a little worried. That you'd reconsider everything, I mean, and that like maybe you wouldn't be so okay with all this after all."

"Poland...."

"But it's all okay, right? It's just that it's weird, and not like you have a problem with me, right?" Poland looked up at him. Much to Estonia's surprise there was a hint of worry on his face. He's nervous too, Estonia thought. Like I am.

"It's all right," Estonia said quietly. Squeezing Poland's small hands, he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's okay. It's not you. Just the suddenness of it."

Nodding, Poland smiled back brightly, as if nothing had been the matter. "Good. ‘Cause I mean, if you did have a problem with me, it'd be hella awkward, right? Especially since this meetup was like totally your idea." He hesitated, then added, "I don't think it'll be weird for too long. We'll have plenty of time to get used to each other, right?"

Heat crept over Estonia's cheeks and he cursed inwardly. Blushing again, he thought. Damn it. Maybe spending more time around Poland would make them familiar enough that he wouldn't find himself blushing every five minutes. "Right," he said, managing a shaky smile. "It won't take long."

Poland grinned and tugged him forward, which caused him to let out a startled sound and stumble, pinning the smaller nation against the closed door. As slender arms snaked around his waist, Estonia found his blush deepening. "Now that we've figured that out," Poland said, looking upward, "I think you should like, stop talking, and kiss me already."

As he was too flustered to protest, Estonia obeyed, sighing as their lips pressed together. Somehow at that moment he knew it would be all right.



Night crept upon them and slipped a black cloth over the sky, quietly plunging the world into inky dark. Finally, the chimes of a striking clock sent them to their bedrooms.

The bedside lamp illuminated the room with a golden glow only bright enough for the letters on the pages of the novel in Estonia's hands to be legible. As he read, he could hear in the background the sound of the shower, and later a hair dryer, as Poland prepared for bed. Concentrating on the book in his hands was incredibly difficult. The sounds in the background and the events of earlier in the day flitted around in Estonia's head, prodding at his thoughts, making his mind drift to Poland. Poland, and the way he looked when they laughed together over tea after supper. Poland, whose soft hands squeezed his own so affectionately. Poland, and the way he had tackled him upon arrival at the airport. Though the thoughts made a warm feeling stir inside him, Estonia still felt uncertain.

Even after all that, he did not know where they stood. However, he thought as he recalled their conversation in the foyer and the hints of worry he had seen on Poland's face, there was some comfort to be had in the fact that Poland did not seem any more certain than himself.

As he turned a page Estonia realized that he could not remember one word of what he had just read, and that the only thing that registered for him was that the sound of the hair dryer had ceased and that for a moment he had heard the sound of bare feet padding on hardwood floor and the click the bedroom door made as it closed.

Best turn in, he thought. He put the novel aside, set the alarm clock, and slipped off his glasses, folding them neatly. He was about to turn off the lamp when he heard a knock on the door. Estonia hesitated, then glanced toward it. What was that about? Insides twisting, he licked his lips, then said, "Come in."

Poland slipped in and pressed the door shut behind him. In the dim, blurry light Estonia could not make out his features. When he came closer, slinking cat-like until he was close enough to sink down onto the side of the bed, it became clear that he was smiling. "My bed is cold," he said, prodding Estonia gently.

"I-Is it?" he replied, blinking owlishly. "Well, all right, I could get you some more of those wool blankets; they're warm, so one or two would..." Estonia trailed off as Poland shook his head.

"You like, so don't get it." He laughed a bit, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to baffled Estonia's cheek. "My bed," he said again, "is cold. Freezing. Like, I'm totally serious. And I think," another kiss, light and airy, "that yours," and another, "would be a lot warmer."

Blushing pepper-red, Estonia stared at him. His mind raced. What was he implying? Poland's eyes were bright and laughing, and he was leaning close, so close that Estonia could feel the heat on him, the lingering warmth of the hot shower. Could he mean - ... No. He couldn't, could he? But what if he did? Finally, he decided, whether he did or didn't, the answer would be the same.

"If you think so," Estonia said quietly, wetting his lips, "then I. Ah. I think there's enough room in my bed for the both of us. If your own is really so cold, of course." Though he tried to say it nonchalantly, his voice trembled, and he silently decided that was a habit he would have to rid himself of.

Evidently, even with the trembling, that had been the reply Poland had hoped for. He slunk beneath the covers, and after negotiating space for himself in the layers of sheets, quilts and wool blankets, he slid his arms around Estonia and pressed close and kissed him without another word. Though still nervous, Estonia found himself welcoming it, melting under the soft pressure of Poland's lips.

All too soon, Poland drew away. Estonia looked at him curiously, but before he could question him, Poland only smirked, kissed his cheek, and said, "Good night". Then he rolled over, yawning. "Mm, like, turn out the light, will you? I'm exhausted. I'm so not kidding."

Estonia stared at him for a moment, then obliged him, turning off the lamp. The stress that had built in him washed away. How ridiculous of you, he thought. There was nothing to worry about. You were nervous for nothing; he implied nothing. That was all you.

He slid his arms around Poland's waist and brushed a kiss against his hair. "Good night," Estonia whispered, and soon afterward they both slipped into sleep.



Estonia spent the next day completely unable to concentrate on anything whatsoever. When the alarm clock jarred him awake that morning, its incessant beeping had been accompanied by Poland groaning as he squirmed and covered his head with a pillow.

"Turn that fuckin' thing off!"

After a moment of fumbling he flicked the switched and the infernal machine was silenced. Poland peeked out from beneath the pillow, one sleepy green eye glaring at him as he grumbled groggily, "Why so early?"

The reality of the situation hit Estonia at that moment, and everything suddenly became clear through the sleepy haze. Poland was there. They had spent the night sleeping in the same bed, their arms wrapped around each other, and even in the morning hours, he was there. Never mind that at the moment he was tangled up in the sheets and looking quite grumpy due to being woken earlier than he would have liked. It had actually happened.

"I see you aren't a morning person," Estonia said wearily as he learned over to kiss Poland's forehead. "I have some business I need to take care of, and I'll be leaving soon, but I'll be back in the afternoon. Go back to sleep." As Poland mumbled something incoherent and hid his head under the pillow again, he slipped out of bed and headed, yawning, toward the bathroom.

In little time he was showered and dressed. Yawning away the sleep, he drifted to the kitchen to make breakfast and tea. Soon the room was filled with the scent of cooking and the sound of a whistling kettle. As he tended to the tea, he heard the sound of padding feet.

"Mm... tea?"

"Yes," Estonia said as he turned to look toward the door. The sight made his insides flutter and twist in a strange, pleasant way. Poland stood there, bare-footed and bed-headed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had slipped on Estonia's robe over his crumpled pyjamas, and the chenille sleeves were far too long for him, dangling over his hands. "You won't go back to sleep?" Estonia asked.

"Nah. Not yet. When you're gone I'll try to like get back to sleep or something, but not right now."

They talked together over breakfast and tea. Eventually the time grew short, and when Estonia rose to prepare to leave Poland tugged him close and stole a long, dizzying kiss. "Don't be too long," he said.

"I won't."

The kiss lingered on Estonia's lips for hours, driving him half mad. Thinking of anything but Poland took monumental effort. At one point someone had asked him, "Are you all right? You're acting strangely." He had mumbled a reply about not sleeping well, which was a complete lie. Thinking on that point in the day, he could not even recall who he had been speaking to.

He returned later than he intended, and as he walked up the driveway Estonia found his stomach doing flip-flops once more. He slipped into his house quietly, barely daring to breathe, as if afraid that the mere exhale of breath would shatter the morning's reality. In a matter of seconds he discovered that his fear was unfounded. As he pressed the door behind him he could hear the sound of cheerful singing coming from the kitchen.

Paluszki, paluszki,
I love paluszki,
Paluszki, paluszki,
Yes, I do!
And I'll make paluszki,
Paluszki, paluszki
I'll make paluszki
And eat it all!


Estonia couldn't help but chuckle at the song. "You'd better save some for me, or I won't forgive you!" he called out as he unbuttoned his coat.

The singing halted, interrupted by a startled squawk that made him laugh again. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"I can see that."After slipping off his shoes he made his way to the kitchen, where he found Poland brushing dough strips with beaten egg, his hands dusted with flour. Estonia hesitated a moment, feeling strangely uncertain what was acceptable and what was not, then gave in and slid his arms around the smaller nation's waist. "You've got flour everywhere," he observed.

"Yeah. I like, always end up making a big mess when I make this stuff. Liet is always getting on my case about that. But it's so good, I don't even care." Poland smirked, leaning back into him, an action that made Estonia flush slightly. "He might not make a mess when he cooks, but I can make paluszki better than anyone else, so there."

"Of course." A pause. "You slept in?"

"Yeah, after you left. But the bed was cold again." Brush. Dip. Brush.

"Tsk, you and your cold beds...." Estonia closed his eyes and nuzzled him, brushing kisses against his hair. For a moment he lost himself in the scent of him – fresh and clean, all shampoo and soap. This is it, then, he thought. "The bed won't be cold tomorrow morning," he said by Poland's ear. "We can sleep as long as we like."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."



Late that evening they rested together, draped over the sofa and wrapped up in comfortable silence. Poland lay with his head on Estonia's chest, seeming as if he was almost dozing, as if he had not recovered from being jolted awake so early in the morning and needed the opportunity to snatch some sleep. After a time, however, he broke the silence, never one to leave things quiet for long. "Hey, Estonia?"

"Yes?"

"I. Ah. This is going to sound dumb. But, like... I'm glad I came to see you."

The fluttering feeling returned and as his insides twisted Estonia reflected that it was strange that whenever he found himself beginning to feel as if he was adjusting to the situation, he quickly discovered that he was not. "I-I'm glad you did, too." He ran his fingers through Poland's hair, appreciating the sensation of it slipping through his fingers. How long had it been since he had last stayed with someone this way? Estonia tried to remember, and failed.

Poland had taken his other hand and pressed their palms together, comparing the size. After a moment he brought Estonia's hand to his lips, brushing kisses along it. At that Estonia's insides twisted further, but not in the same way they had before. The feather-light kisses along his palm were far too familiar, calling to mind thoughts he normally tried to restrain. The kisses with drew, then Poland began to trace the lines of his palm with one finger, a light, tickling gesture. Estonia's breath hitched in his throat as it called up old memories. The image in his mind was of fire light, an orange glow in the inky-black dark. The fingers he remembered touching him so gently were not soft and manicured, as Poland's were, but blunt-nailed, weathered and rough. When Estonia shut his eyes he could almost hear a voice, speaking in an old language, and it was certainly not Poland's voice.

"You have a scribe's hands."

"I do?"

"You do. They're beautiful."

Though he tried to shove the memory down the image persisted, and he nearly lost himself in the gentle hands and the quiet voice that murmured to him in the old words. He recalled eyes made dark by the dim room, reflecting the firelight, looking up at him with more affection than words could speak.

Estonia bit his tongue and the snap of pain brought him back to reality. He took a deep breath, squeezed Poland's hand tightly, then opened his eyes and said, "Please, don't. Um. Don't do that."

"What?" Poland stopped and looked up at him.

Estonia licked his lips and hesitated, struggling to find a way to explain. It was impossible to do it adequately, and he cursed at having spoken up at all. It was nearly impossible to tell part of the problem without telling everything, but he had to make an attempt. "I. I. Um, don't worry, it's nothing you did. Well, it is, but it's not your fault –" Damn it, he thought, as Poland's eyes widened. A bad start. You've made him think he's done something wrong again.

"Sorry-"

"No." Estonia lifted Poland's hand to his lips and kissed it, groping for the right words. "I said it isn't your fault." He paused. "It's something from a long time ago. When you hold my hand like that it. Ah. It makes me remember things and..." He trailed off as the words left him.

"Did someone like, hurt you or something?" Poland asked quietly, the worry on his face shifting to concern. "'cause like, if that's the case, I swear I'll like totally kick their ass-"

"No, Poland. That's not it at all." He smiled, hoping it would reassure him. "If someone had hurt me, don't you think my brother would have done some ass-kicking already?"

Poland ducked his head. "I guess," he said cautiously, fidgeting. "Depending on who it was, yeah, sure. But if that's not it, then like, what happened?"

Estonia sighed. It seemed there was no way to avoid the matter. With a shaking hand he stroked Poland's hair, nibbling his lip as he considered the best way to explain it. "I was with someone a very long time ago. And now I'm not," he finished lamely. "And that's all."

Poland mulled over the words as he leaned into the petting. "Who as it?" he asked quietly.

"I'd rather not say."

"Okay." A pause. "Do you still love them?" Poland asked, glancing up at him.

Estonia stared at him, then shook his head. "I never said I love him," he protested.

"Yeah, you didn't. But like, I can tell that you do, you totally do."

"I do. But it doesn't matter. He's moved on." The words came out far more sharply than he had intended. Estonia bit his tongue and looked away, inwardly berating himself for it. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Ah. I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay."

"I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Shhh. Don't worry about it. It's okay."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for several minutes. In spite of Poland's gentle reassurance, Estonia felt guilty. I should have kept my big mouth shut, he thought. As he began stroking Poland's hair again, he realized his hand was shaking. He swallowed harshly and did his best to still the tremors.

"Hey, Estonia?"

"Yes?"

Poland shifted and drew himself nearer, slipping his arms around Estonia's shoulders. Estonia blinked and slid his arms snugly around Poland's waist in response, and when the other nation ducked his head to nuzzle him, a faint blush spread of his cheeks.

"I just. Well, I just wanted to say that like, I don't mind if you don't love me," Poland murmured. "Just as long as you like me a lot."

"And I do," Estonia replied. "I like you, I mean."

"Then we're all good." Poland pressed closer, lifting his head to linger nose-to-nose with him. "Right?" He smiled, and even if Estonia had been inclined to object, he would not have done so.

"Yes." As a soft mouth closed over his own, Estonia found himself glad that no more would be said on the matter.



The next day passed quickly. The conversation they had engaged in the night before was forgotten, or so it seemed. Estonia did not say a word about it, and Poland didn't question him – though it seemed that he was more cautious about touching Estonia's hands, more careful about how it was done and more aware of both time and place.

The weather was mild and they spent much of the day out running errands, returning home only briefly in the late afternoon. Shortly after the sun sank below the horizon they went out together once more, this time for a different sort of outing altogether. Poland teased him, saying that it was their first real date. Though Estonia blushed and sputtered and protested, his objections were only in jest. It was true, and he knew that no denial could possibly change it – and more importantly, he didn't want to change it. It was an oddly uplifting thought, and throughout the night whenever Poland's fingertips brushed his own the gesture sent a shot of warmth through him.

The hour was late when they slipped outside once again. City lights dimmed the stars but the moon was bright and it cast a soft glow over all that the golden pools of light from the streetlamps did not touch. Snowflakes fell lazily, drifting in the still air, dusting their dark wool jackets with white.

Somehow, Poland convinced Estonia that it was too early to go home just yet, in spite of the very late hour. His method of persuasion was uncomplicated. A bright smile and a well-timed kiss ensured Estonia would not refuse him. He gave in easily to Poland's charms, and so they walked together through a well-lit park in comfortable silence.

Though Estonia tried to relax and enjoy the quiet, peaceful moment, a nagging worry lingered in his mind. Poland's teasing from earlier in the evening, which had made him so happy at the time, echoed over and over in his head. "Hey, this is like, our first date, isn't it?" he had said. Thinking about it made the situation seem all the more complicated. Not only were they together – there was no doubt of that; the snow on his face and Poland walking by his side were real enough – but soon people would find out about it. Soon his brother would find out about it.

"You're doing it again." A teasing voice jarred him from his thoughts.

"Doing what?" Estonia replied, glancing at Poland.

"You're like, all quiet and stuff again. Knowing you, you're probably worrying about something." Poland took his hand and squeezed it, walking a bit closer to him. "And don't lie and say you aren't, ‘cause like, I know. I totally know. You're like Liet that way."

Estonia sighed. In fact, he had planned on denying it completely but it seemed Poland would not be easily fooled. He turned the comment over in his mind, analyzing it from all angles before deciding that there really was not any way he could wiggle out of explaining. "All right," he said finally, pursing his lips. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm like, always right, right? Well, not always, but usually. Now, tell me what's bothering you."

It was an order, not a request. It seemed Poland would not give up until he had what he wanted. Do you really want to put up with this? Estonia asked himself. He was beginning to realize exactly what Poland had meant when he explained why he and Lithuania had never dated, during their exchange on that night which now seemed so many years ago. Even so, part of him felt it was somehow worth the trouble, and that part was loud enough to drown out any protesting. "I was just thinking," he began.

"You're always thinking," Poland interrupted. "You think too much."

"Yes, yes, I know. And you don't think enough." Estonia smiled and squeezed Poland's hand. "Now, don't interrupt. I was just trying to figure out how I'll go about explaining all of this to my brother."

"All of what?"

Estonia rolled his eyes. "‘Oh hey, I'm randomly dating your best friend!' Don't you think he'd find it weird?"

"Mm." Poland made a quiet sound of agreement, then fell quiet. For a short time they walked quietly, both immersed in their thoughts as they considered the problem. "You know," he said after a while, "He said he'd have me drawn and quartered if I like, made a move on you or anything."

Estonia blinked rapidly. That was unexpected. "What?" He stopped abruptly and stared at him, one eyebrow arched, disbelieving. "Are you joking?"

Poland shook his head. "No." Upon seeing Estonia's expression, he grinned. "Don't worry. He was just like being overprotective and stuff." Pause. "I think."

"You think?" Estonia took a deep breath and counted. One, two, three. "I... I think I really should talk to him about this."

"Yeah."

"Before he finds out himself – which he will, as we're, ah. Sharing the same room." A deep flush crossed Estonia's cheeks. His brother would certainly notice that. How could he miss something like Poland going to bed with him?

"Oh, come on. Stop it." The quiet words brought him back to the present, and he realized that Poland was smiling up at him. That was what mattered. It was night and they were alone together for the moment, and whatever criticism Lithuania might offer when he arrived and discovered the situation didn't matter at all, not yet. "Stop worrying."

"Well, it's hard to stop, you know," Estonia replied. "It's just something I'm used to."

"Yeah, but you don't have anything to bother you now." Poland took both his hands and squeezed him, huffing impatiently, his breath making fog in the cool air. "You need to learn to smile more, seriously."

"Says who?"

"Me. Now, come on, stop thinking about stuffy old Liet. You should... you should dance with me."

"What?"

"Dance with me!" A mischievous smirk crossed Poland's lips, and as Estonia opened his mouth to protest, Poland jerked him forward and stole a kiss. As he broke away, he said, "Don't say ‘Oh, we can't ‘cause we're like, in public, and someone might see'. Nobody's around. It's just us. So, dance with me."

Every protest was met with another kiss. Finally, in spite of his insecurities, Estonia gave in to Poland's persuasion. Flustered from the kisses, he drew him close, one hand resting at his waist, the other holding one of his hands lightly. Together they waltzed in the light of a streetlamp, the yellow glow catching the falling snow. There was no sound but the crunching of their boots on the ground, the swish of powdersnow being kicked up by their steps, and Poland lightly humming a beat to keep the time of their steps. Soon all Estonia's worries washed away in the cool night and there was nothing but the two of them.

"Feel better?" Poland whispered after a time, standing on his toes to murmur by Estonia's ear.

"Yes," he admitted. ‘A bit."

"Hmm-mm. Not enough, I think. Like, smile, okay? God, you're here with me, so you have plenty to be happy about."

"Tsk... you just don't give up, do you?"

"No. But as long as you put up with me, it's totally all right." Poland paused. His eyes flickered, then he grinned. "Hey... And it's just a few days until it's gonna be your birthday. So you have that to be happy about too, right?"

"Well, yes-" Estonia began, the paused as Poland started to hum. It was a familiar tune, but it took him a moment to place it. When he recognized it, he groaned and rolled his eyes, though he didn't halt his steps, continuing to sweep Poland through the snow. "I hope you're not going to start singing it," he said dryly. "It's not for a couple of days! Honestly. You can sing for me all you like on the day of."

"Mm, but I totally want to sing for you now!" Poland teased.

"And I suppose now you'll do it just because I told you not to, right?" Estonia asked, matching Poland's grin with one of his own. In truth, deep down inside he didn't mind, though he would be reluctant to admit it if asked.

It seemed Poland was fully aware of that fact. "Of course. Oh my god, you should know better than to tell me not to do something. It just makes me want to do it more!" He resumed his humming, and after a moment began singing. His voice was light and airy and though he sang quietly, it rang out in the clear, still air. "Sto lat, sto lat –" A pause. "Oh, don't look so sour. Come on, we'll make this a good-fortune song for the both of us. Sing it with me?"

"Oh, no!" Estonia protested, his eyes widening with faux bewilderment. "I, ah, I don't know the words-"

"Like hell you don't know the words. Don't give me that – You and Liet sang it for me at my birthday. I know you know it." Poland pouted. "Come on."

Estonia sighed and gave in. He absolutely couldn't protest when Poland looked at him that way; and no amount of protesting would have done him any good, as surely Poland would badger him until he had no choice but to surrender. Picking up where Poland left off, Estonia sang quietly, the Polish words feeling strange in his mouth. "Niech żyje, żyje nam."

"Sto lat, sto lat, niech żyje, żyje nam," Poland repeated, and they sang together, their voices mixing.

"Jeszcze raz, jeszcze raz, niech żyje, żyje nam, niech żyje nam!" They twirled together in the street-lamp's light and it seemed as though time had slowed and there was nothing in the world but the night and their song. As Estonia spun Poland through the snow, he felt a strange tightness in his chest. The sight of him with snowflakes in his hair and his cheeks flushed from the cold drew out his breath and made pleasant, unfamiliar feelings stir inside of him. At that moment, he desired to be nowhere else.

They repeated the song over and over as they danced and soon their steps were disordered and their singing punctuated by laughter. Faster, faster, until finally dizziness caused them to collapse in the snow, breathless and giggling. Somehow the cold didn't touch them, or perhaps it did, but they didn't care.

Estonia certainly didn't care. Somehow, he couldn't stop laughing; it overwhelmed him so much that tears beaded on his eyelashes, freezing in the cool air. When he looked at Poland, who was grinning as widely as a cat who had got into the cream, Estonia found himself overcome with another fit of giggling.

"Hah! That's what I wanted to see," Poland said, smirking with triumph. "Oh my god, seriously, you need to laugh more often."

"Oh, stop it," Estonia replied, whacking him playfully on the shoulder.

"No, like, I'm totally serious!" Shifting close, Poland murmured by Estonia's ear, "You know, you look so hot when you're laughing."

A deep blush instantly spread over Estonia's cheeks. "Really?" he sputtered, staring at him.

"Oh my god, like, totally. You have no idea." Poland stared back at him, straight-faced and perfectly serious.

It was at that point that Estonia became acutely aware of cool fingers at his neck, then a cold, wet sensation down his back. "Augh!" He squawked and jumped up, hopping about in desperate effort to shake the snow out of his shirt. Poland, meanwhile, was once again breathless with laughter.

"Oh my god, your expression!" Poland wiped a tear from his eyes, grinning widely. "Totally priceless – seriously, that was like, the best ever. Wish I could get a picture!"

"Really," Estonia replied dryly as he adjusted his clothing. "Well, I'm glad you didn't."

"Tsk, you're no fun." Poland sighed, then stood and brushed the snow off his pants, still smiling. "But I guess I knew that already."

"You're wrong about that," Estonia said as he bent and scooped up a handful of snow. "I can be plenty of fun, when I want to be." As Poland watched, he formed it into a ball. Their eyes locked.

Poland stared at him. "Oh no," he said. "No way. You totally wouldn't."

"I totally would." Estonia smirked. "You'd better start running!"

That night in the park their laughter chimed away the hours. If a passer-by had looked, he would have seen two young men chasing each other about, flinging snowballs, giggling like children. In the earliest moments of the morning, their hearts were at peace.




Numbed from euphoria, Estonia rested in bed and listened to the ticking of the bedside clock and the sound of Poland brushing his teeth in the washroom. When they had returned to his house it was a ridiculously late hour, but in spite of what the clock said, the expected exhaustion did not hang over him. The night's energy ran through him and somehow he could still feel the cool air pinching him through his coat and the falling snowflakes melting on his cheeks.

The background noise changed to rinsing sounds, then the soft padding of bare feet. Poland slipped inside, pressed the door shut and yawned as he slunk over to the bed. Sinking down onto the edge, he stuffed his toothbrush into the overnight bag sitting in its place on the floor, then slipped beneath the covers, squirming until he made himself comfortable beneath the layers of quilts. When Estonia turned off the bedside lamp, Poland took that as his cue to nestle close, sliding his arms around him. Estonia shifted to do the same and when Poland's lips pressed eagerly to his own he found himself glad that neither of them were touched by exhaustion.

The kiss was soft at first, but quickly became firm, insistent, and Estonia melted beneath the attention. A slick, sneaky brush of a mischievous tongue made his lips part, and his own slipped out to invite Poland in, brushing and stroking. He drew him inside, sucking as he enjoyed the sensations and the fresh, clean taste of him. Their actions made him flustered, but in their close proximity he could feel the heat on Poland's cheeks too and the occasional tremor that ran through him, and he knew for certain that he was not the only one affected.

They broke for breath and stared at each other in the dim light, as if asking, "What now?" Their breathing was quick and their lips tender and bruised. After a moment Poland nudged Estonia over, his touch cautious and almost shy. Estonia bent to it, shifting onto his back, and no sooner had he done so than Poland's small form was draped over him, pressing flush against him, petal-soft mouth covering his own once more. He responded in turn, eagerly returning every slick, open-mouthed kiss as his hands moved up to run his fingers through Poland's hair. He gave in to every touch, every gesture, losing himself in every sensation, melting beneath his weight.

When the kiss broke again they were both breathless but unable to tear away, panting as tongues stroked damp, bruised lips. Estonia stared blankly upward. The dark and his poor vision ensured that in spite of the close proximity he could barely see Poland, but it didn't matter. One kiss, then another, light, slow, and gentle. Tender. Poland seemed to be thinking. There was something tentative in his actions, something questioning. Poland's hair fell like a curtain, framing his face and brushing his cheeks as they shared another kiss, then more, the lightest touch. Estonia wanted to question him, but felt he couldn't. The silence was good.

When Poland ducked his head to trail slow, light kisses over Estonia's throat, he met the gesture with no resistance. Estonia closed his eyes, flushing as he tilted his head back to bare more skin. The hot, fluttering breath made him shiver; each damp, teasing brush of Poland's lips rendering him more flustered. His fingers trembled as they threaded through Poland's hair and when the slick tongue slipped out, stroking lightly over his pulse, he gasped and clung, squirming involuntarily beneath him.

That seemed to only encourage Poland, who responded in turn with further teasing, a sweeping tongue and grazing teeth. His hands refused to stay still, trailing and drifting before finally moving upward to slowly undo buttons at his collar, leaving more skin bare to his taunting, tantalizing mouth. That gesture was familiar; Estonia knew it from their midnight meeting nights before, but this time he didn't raise his hands to stop him. No, he thought, let him go on; let him do as he likes.

That was what the coherent part of him thought, but most of him was in no state to do any thinking at all. The gestures let him heated and dazed; trailing lips and wandering figures drew soft gasps from him, and further wandering as fabric fell away left him trembling. He bit his lip to silence himself, muffling his sounds, embarrassed by the way they made him react.

It seemed Poland realized that, as he paused his ministrations for a moment and worked his way upward. Nuzzling by Estonia's ear, he whispered, "Don't stifle them." The words were accompanied by hot, fluttering breath and teeth tugging delicately at the earlobe. "Like, seriously. I want to hear you."

"Why...?" Estonia found that the gestures had rendered him utterly senseless, to the point that even getting one word out was difficult. Tilting his head, he buried his face in Poland's hair, slowly realizing that he was clinging to him, fingers twisting in the fabric of his pyjama top.

There was an audible smirk in Poland's voice when he responded. "It lets me know when I'm doing something right," he replied.

"You're doing everything right."

"Good." He shifted and pressed a lingering kiss to Estonia's lips, then once more returned to his teasing, lips and tongue and hands moving endlessly. Estonia shivered as fingertips trailed lightly over his chest, then lower, carefully and cautiously sliding over his hips and thighs. Those gestures were entirely unfamiliar, but, he realized, not unwelcome. Though nervousness coursed through him, the gentleness of the actions was reassuring, as were Poland's words echoing in his mind. Calmed by the thought that the other did want to please him, he allowed himself to melt completely beneath the gestures. No longer restraining himself, he let the sounds to slip past his kiss-bruised lips, quiet gasps and the occasional soft moan, sounds as unfamiliar to him as the touches that drew them out. A deep sense of want stirred inside him and he made no effort to draw it back.

Eventually Poland returned his attention to his mouth once more, kissing him deeply, slipping his tongue past his eager lips. Estonia held him tightly, tugging involuntarily at his hair, relishing the contact and the sensation of being covered completely. Slowly Poland shifted against him and the friction made him moan against his mouth. Through the haze of endless want Estonia slowly realized what it was that he felt as they pressed together. Poland was affected, too.

That knowledge encouraged him, driving him to shift against him, pressing upward. The gesture drew out a gasp from Poland, precisely the reaction he had hoped for. Yes, that's it, Estonia thought. I want you to feel this, too. He sought to make him react further, to return what he had been given. His movements were shy, a bit clumsy, but Poland seemed to appreciate them all the same. In the dark they moved together slowly, trembling from the gestures, each sound muffled by tender, bruised mouths.

Eventually the kiss broke. Estonia opened his eyes and looked upward, trying to catch his breath. He was pleased to notice that Poland was no less breathless he was, his cheeks flushed and his slim frame trembling.

"Estonia, I. Ah. I." Poland began, paused, began again, then stopped. He licked his lips, hesitating.

"Yes?"

"I. Uh. Damn it." Poland nibbled his lower lip then stole a kiss, lingering, apparently considering the best words to use. Nose-to-nose with him, Estonia stroked his hair in an attempt to reassure him that whatever he would say, it was all right. Eventually, Poland whispered, "Estonia I want- ... I need you."

That was it. He had suspected, and he understood, and though nothing like that had ever been asked of him before, he found himself ready. He cupped Poland's cheek, stroking thoughtfully with his thumb as he considered his response. "Okay." Somehow he managed to still the trembling in his hands.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Briefly Estonia wondered if he should explain to Poland how little he knew. Though he had long known the mechanics of it, he had never experienced it first-hand. Should I tell him? he thought. If he did, Poland might refuse, and he didn't want that. There was no need to break the moment – if the question was asked of him later, he might explain, but at that time it was not right. Having made his decision, he stole a light kiss, then nuzzled Poland. "I'm sure," he said again. "I want you, too."

It seemed that was all the encouragement Poland needed. Their lips briefly met again, then he withdrew and set about working to strip him, his clever hands moving quickly. Estonia tried to follow suit, and though his own movements were shy and somewhat clumsy, Poland didn't seem to mind, and Estonia relished the new, unfamiliar gestures. Though he fumbled with the buttons, the brush of his fingertips over skin as they came undone was quite satisfying.

Eventually they were both bare. The sensation of skin on skin as they pressed together was incredibly unfamiliar, but more than welcome, and there was no denying the condition they both were in. Heated and aroused, their lips met again, and the quick, firm kisses echoed their desperate want. They continued that way for a short while, then Poland withdrew and reached down beside the bed for his overnight bag.

Flustered, Estonia looked in his direction, squinting. In the dim, blurry light it was difficult to see Poland's fumbling, but he had a suspicion as to what he was looking for. Did he plan this? The thought made nervousness arise in him for a bare moment before he shoved it down and told himself, it didn't matter. He realized his hands were twisting the sheets and he drew in a deep breath, urging himself to calm, though somehow that had little effect. He was nervous, and though he tried to hide it, he was sure it showed.

When Poland leaned down and kissed him again, he responded shyly, unsure. Fingertips ghosted his skin, trailing lightly and trembling, as if Poland was nervous, too. "What's wrong?" Estonia whispered against his lips.

"Nothing. But like, you're really sure about this?"

"I'm sure." Estonia laid back and looked upward, wishing he could see him. The concern was reassuring, and it quelled some of the twisting worry inside of him. "Go on," he whispered.

"Okay." Poland sighed and nestled against him, letting his hands wander. Though soft kisses to his neck made Estonia flustered, it was the trailing hands that really drew sound from him. Teasing fingertips brushed over his thighs and made them part instinctively, and when that sneaking, clever hand slid inward to stroke him it caused him to make a low, desperate sound, betraying the need he tried to keep hidden.

"That's it." Soft words, husky murmuring against his throat. "That's it. That's what I want to hear." The gestures continued a short while, then stopped.

"Poland, please," Estonia gasped as the hand drew away. Flustered and heated, he barely registered Poland's "shhhh"ing and the sound of a cap unscrewing.

The next thing he felt was something different entirely.

Estonia gasped and clung to Poland as slim, slick fingers brushed there, probing carefully, then slid inside. Shallow, then deeper, slipping slowly and cautiously – then another. Estonia bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly. It felt good, in a strange, incomprehensible way. Then Poland did something, crooking his fingers just right, drawing out another gasp – this time, one of surprise and pleasure.

"That's it. That's it," Poland whispered as he worked carefully. All the while his lips brushed, kissed, grazed.

Oh god, Estonia thought. If he doesn't stop teasing I'm going to – "Poland, please!"

"You sure?" This time the whisper had a hint of a smirk in it. Estonia groaned and shifted, grabbing Poland by the hair and pulling him up to steal a desperate kiss. "Yes!" he gasped.

"Yes."

"... Yes."



They moved together. Their breath was quick and their movements were desperate as they shifted, trembling, fingers scrambling. Hands fumbled, nails scraped along skin, fingers twisted in long yellow hair, tightened and pulled. Filled so deeply, so completely, it was so good, and it was almost too much. As they consumed each other there was nothing in the world but the two of them.

Finally, with breathless groans they drew each other over. Afterward all was still. They lingered close as the breath left them slowly, a quiet release. They had moved as one and in that moment they still felt as one person, inseparable.

Slowly Poland moved to nuzzle Estonia's cheek, brushing a kiss there before gently pressing his lips to his mouth. Estonia responded in turn, kissing him softly. Their breathing matched pace, in turn matching the speed of their hearts beating – so fast, recovering from the movements before, then slow, slowing, even.

They rested together. Poland was soft and warm above him, the brush of his falling hair light as a kiss. Estonia held him close, relishing the heat and each slow, deep breath.

No word was exchanged between them. The time for words had passed and in that moment all was peaceful silence.



The next day they woke long after the sun rose. They lingered, wrapped in each others' arms, resting side by side for an hour before Estonia slipped out of bed, unwilling to doze away the day, much to Poland's protest.


"Come onnn, can't you just wait like a little while longer?" Poland grumbled as he drew the blankets around himself to make up for the lost warmth.

"No, no, I don't think so. It's nearly noon already." Estonia reached for his glasses and slid them on, then looked toward him again. Poland was pouting at him. He sighed and leaned down to kiss him and as he drew away he whispered, "I, ah. I'm going to go shower now. Would you like to join me?" A flush rose in his cheeks as he spoke, and he found himself unsure where the boldness had come from.

Poland's eyes widened and he, too, seemed surprised. He also didn't seem to mind. Smirking, he tugged him close and stole another kiss. It seemed that was his way of saying ‘yes'.

It was an excellent beginning.




Fresh and clean, with dripping wet hair and a very late breakfast in their stomachs, they examined the calendar and outlined a plan of action – or rather, Estonia outlined a plan, while Poland tried to distract him.

"It's so nice outside – come on, let's go! This can wait until later."

"No – gah, stop it. Now, look here, you!" Estonia caught him and held him at arm's length. "My brothers are going to arrive tomorrow and I haven't yet set this place to rights. Go on by yourself if you like, but I have things I need to do today."

"Things you need to do today," Poland repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." An exasperated sigh.

"Things you need to do, that aren't me."

Flush. "Y-yes."

"And you're not going to back down."

"Not a bit."

"Fine." Pause. "I'll help you."

"Good." Estonia tugged him close and kissed him, making him squeak and flail a bit before relaxing and pressing against him.

When it broke Poland murmured, flustered and wide-eyed, "What was that for?"

Estonia licked his lips, considering his words carefully. "If we finish early," he said, "You'll get more of that."

"Mmm, and you'll take me out, right?"

"Yes. Maybe it will even be light out. Now, come on – the sooner we start, the sooner we'll finish."

With the decision made, they set to it.



The blinds were rolled up and the windows were cracked open and soon the house smelled of bleach and vinegar. Every inch was washed and scrubbed and attacked without mercy. They went from room to room, working together as a team, polishing furniture until it shone and putting down fresh sheets. Whenever Poland showed signs of distraction, Estonia reminded him of the evening, with all its promise. "We'll do whatever you like – but first, there's this." They continued well into the afternoon.

When they finally paused it was because the telephone rang. They were nearly finished and the thought of stopping was a bother, but letting the thing ring was even more troubling. Estonia set down the dust rag and polish, and grabbed the cordless telephone from its place in the hallway.

"'ello?"

The voice that greeted him was warm, cheerful and familiar. "Estonia! Hey, it's good to hear you!"

There was something about hearing Finland's voice that startled Estonia. Perhaps, he thought as he glanced down the hallway toward the room he had been cleaning with Poland only seconds ago, it was simply because of the circumstance.

"Oh, it's you," he replied, switching to Finnish, his words light and teasing. "What do you want?" After glancing down the hall once more, he ducked into his bedroom. His insides twisted nervously and a rather loud part of him wanted the conversation out of Poland's earshot. It seemed for the best.

"Pff, love you too." Finland's choice of words only increased the flip-flops in his gut. Stop it, Estonia told himself as he listened. "I just wanted to remind you, I'll be arriving at your place around noon on the day of. Wouldn't want you to forget."

"Oh, come on, I'd never forget."

"Maybe not, but it might happen one of these days. And it's been a while since we've last talked – you've been so busy lately."

"Well, it is that time of year." Estonia sank down onto the mattress and listened to his friend's cheerful voice. Glancing at the bedside table, his eyes fell on one of Poland's hairclips. He took it and turned it over in his hands. It was strange, talking to Finland, after everything that had transpired in the past week.

"And maybe, you know, two weeks from now you could come over here and we could meet up at that cafe again-"

"A-actually," Estonia said quietly, "I might have plans." The words slipped out of his mouth before he was aware of it. Why did I say that? He thought. He quickly added, "But if it falls through, I'll let you know."

"Tsk, you're a busy one." Finland seemed rather amused by Estonia's fumbling. "What, got a date or something?"

"No!"

"Hah, you said that way too quickly; now I know you do. Who is it? Oh- no, wait, hold on a second, will you?"

A hand covered the phone's receiver to muffle the background noise but Estonia could still hear it filtering in; the dog barking, movement, and Finland's voice. "Oh, there you are, love! Just a minute, I'll help you bring in the groceries – I just need to finish up this call." There was a pause as someone spoke out of earshot, then, "No, no. It's just Estonia. Hold on." Then the sound was no longer muffled, and once again all was clear.

"Sorry about that-"

"Don't worry about it."

"Right, so. Noon, day of. Don't forget."

They exchanged farewells. Estonia tried to put a smile in his voice. When they hung up he could do nothing but stare at the telephone, feeling oddly numb. The one side of the snippet of conversation he had overheard seemed strangely intimate, intensely private. Finland's muffled words echoed over again in his head. There you are, love. My love. His stomach twisted as he set the phone on the night-table. It had been centuries since words like that had been meant for him and while it was one thing not to hear it at all, it was another thing entirely to hear Finland saying things like that to someone else. My love, Estonia thought. Hearing it had been like receiving a kick to the gut.

A slight rustling sound startled him and made him look toward the door. Poland was leaning in the doorway, his head tilted and his eyes questioning. "Are you all right?" he asked.

How much did he overhear? Then again, did it matter? The thoughts flitted through Estonia's mind and he struggled to shove them down. "Yes," he lied.

"Don't believe it. You look like someone punched you."

"Really, it's nothing." In spite of his words, Poland walked over and sank down beside him. Estonia hesitated, then slid one arm around his shoulders. "That was-"

"Finland."

"Yes."

For a moment they were both quiet, then, "Was he..." Poland trailed off, unsure how to pose the question.

Estonia pursed his lips. Though he drew Poland closer, a part of him wanted nothing more than to leave the room. The matter was over, it was done with, and no good would come from discussing it; yet though he felt that way, a part of him fought to speak, and against his better judgement he allowed it. "He was. That one, I mean. The one I was with. But that was..." He struggled to find the right words. "That was a really, really long time ago," he finished lamely.

"And you still-"

"Yes." He whispered it, resigned. "But it doesn't matter if I do – you know that. He doesn't see me that way now. So, this is how it is."

The two of them were quiet for a while. They sat nestled together, unsure of what to say. Poland was the first one to break the silence. He shifted closer and took his hand, squeezing it gently before murmuring, "Hey, Estonia?"

"Yes?" No more questions, he thought. Please, no more questions. He tilted his head to look at him, desperately hoping he would not have to vent his spleen any further.

Poland's expression seemed just as uncertain and wavering as his own. "Like, this might sound really dumb," he began, then stopped and frowned. "Ugh. That was a really bad way to start."

Estonia laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe, but it's true. It might. A lot of the things that come out of your mouth sound dumb."

"Hey!"

"But I know you're smarter than you sound," he added quickly. He pressed a kiss to Poland's forehead, and that brought a halt to the indignant glaring. "Go on, then."

"Right. So, like, as I was gonna say. It's like, well – I know that this is kind of weird, right? Everything. And like, this whole love thing, it's crazy and complicated and I can see you're still kind of hurt from it. I know I totally can't give you that, and you wouldn't want it from me anyway, but see, what I mean to say is... is like, I don't know, okay? I like you, I really do. I like you a lot, and I want to make you happy. I want to try, anyway. I think I could, if you'd let me." Poland babbled, gradually becoming more flustered with each word. Halfway through his fumbling a blush began to spread over his cheeks. All the while Estonia listened, taking in and considering everything.

"So, uh, yeah," Poland finished. "That's about it." Their eyes met for a moment, then he looked down, nibbling his lower lip.

Estonia turned over his words, analyzing each point. One thing that could be said in Poland's favour was that while he was not the most articulate person in the world, occasionally his ideas made plenty of sense. He's right, he thought. Maybe he could. "You really want to try to make me happy?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah." Poland looked up at him, bright-eyed and hopeful. "I just... Like, you know, it's been a while since I liked someone like this, and it's kind of ... it's totally..." He sighed, frustrated with his inability to find the right words. "We could be good. We could be really good together. But you have to open up for me."

Something twisted deep inside of him, and it was a different sort of feeling than what he had experienced earlier. The tight, insistent tug was warm, nervously fluttering, but hopeful.

"But like if you just want to leave it alone, like, I dunno, just keep things as they are or – or even like, act like nothing happened with us at all, that's okay too, I mean-"

"Poland?"

"Yeah?"

"Shhh." Estonia pressed a finger to Poland's lips. When his eyes widened in battlement, Estonia smiled and leaned in close. His smile was a shy one and his hand trembled slightly, but somehow, he didn't care in the slightest. "I want to try," he whispered, leaning in closer until they were nose-to-nose and their lips brushed, the barest kiss. "I. Ah. I guess the way things used to be don't matter much. This is now, and I d-don't love you, but I do like you. I like you."

"And I like you too," Poland echoed.

Estonia hesitated, feeling that somehow it seemed those words sealed something. They marked a point no other gesture had touched. More than any words spoken, more than any kisses exchanged, more than the bliss they had shared together the night before, the phrase was a line they had crossed and could not cross over again. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said finally. No matter what, he decided, there would be no regrets.

Then Poland kissed him, and the gesture said more than words could ever speak.




The rest of the day went quickly. It seemed their agreement brought them new energy, and as they worked together they worked as one, and were finished before darkness fell. When Poland reminded Estonia of his promise, he received kisses enough to make him dizzy, and Estonia made good on his word that they would go out together. Throughout the evening both hearts were light, and if a memory of the day's unease crossed Estonia's mind, the gentle squeeze of Poland's hand set his thoughts on better things.


They returned at a much earlier hour than they had the night before. Worn out from the day's efforts, they resolved to rest.

"God, is it finished yet?" came a voice from the direction of the living room.

"Tsk, so impatient. Water takes time to boil, and it won't do it if you stare at it, don't you know that?" Estonia laughed and resumed his search for camomile tea. He had put the kettle on almost immediately upon returning. They had both agreed it would be an early night.

He found the tin and shut the cupboard. As he turned to tend to the kettle he happened to glance out the large kitchen window. In spite of the slight glare on it caused by the kitchen lights, he caught sight of a familiar brightness in the night sky. He watched the colours dancing for a while. For a long time he had been made uneasy by the sight of them, but now, he thought, it was different somehow. How strange.

Estonia gnawed his lip and considered the opportunity, then came to a decision. He set down the tin of tea and turned off the burner, moving the kettle so it would cool. "Poland?" he called. "Go put your shoes on. There's something outside I'd like you to see."

Poland protested that it was cold out there, and what could there be to see anyway, and besides the sofa was comfortable and he didn't want to get up, and Estonia should join him, tea or no tea. But Estonia was insistent. "It will just be for a few minutes," he said. Eventually, Poland gave in.

Soon they stood outside on the back step, the door to the kitchen entrance open just a crack and streaming yellow light into the back yard. Though they shivered, breath making white mist as they exhaled, the cold didn't seem to matter as they looked upward. The colour-shifting foxfire above was where their attention rested.

"'S pretty," Poland murmured, leaning into Estonia.

"Yes."

"'N this is what you called me out for?"

"It is." After a brief moment of hesitation he slid his arms around Poland and drew him close. As Poland nestled against him, a smile crossed his lips.

"It's worth it."

They stayed that way, watching the lights in the clear dark, ignoring the cold that nipped at faces, arms and fingers. The sight was still a painful one and if anyone had asked, Estonia would be unable to deny that they made his thoughts shift to anther time and place. Yet somehow the sting was soothed by the presence of the smaller form resting against him. He buried his face in Poland's hair and let his eyes drift shut, sighing. Poland was a balm on his aching hands, water on his parched tongue, warmth to thaw his cold body; he was-

"Uh, are you like, sniffing my hair?"

Pause. "No."

"'cause if you are, that's like totally weird, I'm serious."

"I'm not!"

Poland drew away and raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips. "You totally were."

"I totally wasn't!" Estonia mimicked his tone, grinning widely.

"Were!"

"Wasn't!" He moved to pull him close, intending to kiss him to quiet him, but Poland sensed his attack and ran off, laughing. Estonia followed, calling out, "Come on, wait!" to which Poland's only reply was, "Hell no!"

The cold air rang with the sound of their laughter as they chased each other around the back yard, cheeks flushed from running, the cold forgotten. All the while the northern lights watched over them, dancing in the sky and singing their approval.