Small Hours [Estonia/Poland]
Feb. 14th, 2009 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Small Hours
Characters/Pairing: Estonia/Poland; references to past Estonia/Finland
Rating: 13+
Length: 4900
Summary: Poland notices Estonia when they are both spending time visiting Lithuania. Something resembling a relationship might possibly result.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post).
Small Hours
The little house in Vilnius was filled with the warm, mouth-watering scent of poppyseed cookies.
It was four days before Lithuania’s independence celebration. As with every year, the spare rooms were dusted, fresh sheets were laid down, and the pantry was stocked in preparation for his guests. Already two people had invaded his living space, but Poland and Estonia were dear to him, and so Lithuania welcomed them with open arms, thankful at the very least that Latvia, America and all his other companions would not be arriving until the day of the celebration.
Busy though his house was, Lithuania didn’t mind playing host to his brother, his friend and those soon to come – though if anyone had asked, he would have been careful not to mention that soon he would happily get revenge for the invasion by staging one of his own, as it was only a short time before it would be Estonia’s turn to play host for his own independence day.
For the moment, however, Lithuania had to put up with Poland. Admittedly, it wasn’t terribly difficult. Give him something to do, stuff some sweets in his mouth, and he could be counted on to be happily quiet and minimally troublesome for a half hour at most.
Unfortunately, that half hour tended to pass rather quickly.
“Oh my god Liet, this stuff is so good!”
“Stop eating the dough; you’ll get salmonella. And I can’t make more cookies if you keep eating it, either. Oh, that’s the timer – there, just grab a tea towel and take that batch out of the oven. You can have one of those.”
“Right, right – ow!”
“Carefully.” Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lithuania took the tea-towel from his friend, wrapped his hand around it, and retrieved the cookie sheet from the oven himself, reflecting that it really was foolish of him to take his eyes off Poland for more than a second. “You’re not supposed to touch the sheet,” he said, scolding gently.
“But you said-“
“Never mind what I said.” Lithuania shoved a warm cookie in Poland’s mouth, ignoring the glare he received for that, and began piling some of the freshly-baked sweets on a plate. “Here,” he said, setting it in Poland’s hands. “Go offer one to Estonia. I think he’s in the living room, though he’s been awfully quiet. And don’t eat them all yourself.”
“Mmph,” said Poland through a mouthful of cookie, glaring once more at Lithuania before he wandered out into the living room.
“Estoniaaaaa. Hey, Estonia? Like, where’d you go – Oh.”
The nation was draped over the sofa, a paperback held loosely in his hands. From his lightly-closed eyes and slightly-slumped posture, it was clear that he had dozed off while reading. “Must’ve been a real boring novel,” Poland murmured as he set the plate of cookies down on the coffee table. He watched the other nation, unsure if he should wake him, but after debating for a moment he decided to let him sleep. Quietly, he stepped over to the sofa and bent down to carefully slip off Estonia’s glasses, then folded them neatly and set them carefully on the coffee table. It wouldn’t do to risk them being crushed if he shifted.
It was at that point that Poland looked toward him again, intending to draw the throw-blanket over him. But instead of doing so, he paused, his gaze lingering on Estonia’s face.
Strange.
Though Estonia was rarely seen without his spectacles, Poland had been in his company on a few occasions when he was without them. But at those times, he hardly looked at him at all, usually distracted by something or other. And generally he was not in such a close proximity to him, either. But now that he did take the time to look at him, it was – strange.
It was strange to see that Estonia was actually very good-looking without his glasses. Not that he wasn’t when he was wearing them, Poland reflected, but generally he had such a stuffy, bookish appearance about him. The glasses made him look like an accountant. But, without the spectacles obscuring his face, it was much easier to see how appealing he was. His features were refined, scholarly and quite handsome; without the lenses, it was so much easier to see the thick, light-coloured lashes, the dignified, perfectly-sloped nose. And as he was sleeping, there was something pleasantly serene about his expression.
Damn it, Poland thought. If only he was awake. His eyes, full and open – now, that would be a sight to see.
He considered kissing him. Those elegant, slightly-parted lips were certainly quite tempting. However, he thought better of it. Instead, he quietly resumed what he had intended to do, quietly taking the throw-blanket from where it was draped over the back of the sofa, unfolding it before carefully draping it over the sleeping scholar. Then, after pausing to appreciate the sight a moment longer, Poland made his way back to the kitchen.
“Liet! You never told me your brother is hot!”
“Which one?” Lithuania asked dryly, not bothering to glance up from the sink full of dishes he was washing.
“Ha. Very funny. Estonia, dummy.” Poland rolled his eyes and grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack, biting down delicately. “Mmnh. But, yeah. Him. He’s like, totally delicious. Seriously.”
“Hmph. Well, maybe he is, but I certainly wouldn’t know. He’s my brother, after all.”
“So what?” Poland replied with a smirk. “I bet you’ve heard about what Canada and America get up to. They’re brothers, too.”
“Those are just rumours,” Lithuania replied, a blush creeping over his cheeks. Removing his hands from the soapy water, he began drying them with a tea towel. “Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Looking toward his friend, a rather curious expression on his face, he asked, “Why are you going on about Estonia like this so suddenly? You’ve known him for years.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t seen him without his glasses on before – well, I mean like, I have, but I wasn’t really paying attention, you know?” Poland paused, thinking. No, he really hadn’t paid much attention to Estonia in the past at all, in truth. “Anyway, now that I’ve like, taken a close look, I gotta say, he’s like, totally hot.” Thinking back to what he had seen in the living room, he decided that hot didn’t even begin to describe that man, really.
“Poland?”
The blonde blinked, dragged out of his thought. “Yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow at Lithuania.
Pursing his lips, Lithuania folded the tea towel with more than the usual care, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You might be my friend,” he said mildly, “But I will warn you now: if you pursue anything with my little brother, I’ll have you drawn and quartered.”
“Well, all right – wait, what?” Poland stared at him. “Why? C’mon, Liet, you know you can trust me.”
“No, actually. Not with him. I’ve seen what happens when you get... involved with someone. It’s troublesome. And I just – well, I don’t want him getting hurt.”
“But I wouldn’t –“
“Of course,” Lithuania said, interrupting him, “You weren’t considering anything at all. Right?”
Poland opened his mouth to protest, wanting to say that actually, he was very well considering it, thank-you-very-much, but upon seeing his friend’s expression, he reconsidered. Normally, Lithuania wasn’t so terse, nor so forward, but there was something in his eyes that said he meant business. “... Right,” he said finally. “Like, totally wasn’t thinking of it at all. Nope.” Well, let him think what he wants, Poland thought. If things did get interesting, he wouldn’t have to know.
The lines of text in front of his eyes were meaningless. Poland read the same paragraph over and over, but somehow couldn’t comprehend a single word. A cup of tea sat cooling by his right hand. The ticking sound coming from the clock on the wall was almost maddening.
Poland couldn’t sleep. It was the night before Lithuania’s independence day and somehow he simply couldn’t sleep. Estonia and Lithuania had long since gone to bed, but there he was sitting at the kitchen table, reading.
Trying to read, anyway. His thoughts kept drifting to Estonia. Try though he might, he just couldn’t get his mind off the quiet, scholarly Baltic nation; not since that day he had come across him sleeping and had happened to see him with his glasses off. No, he couldn’t get him off his mind at all. Over the past few days he had even flirted with him, quite a bit in fact. However, he did it carefully, always checking to be sure Lithuania was distracted by something or other at the time. Poland knew that Lithuania was not the kind of person to make idle threats, but that didn’t mean that would deter Poland from pursuing anything with Estonia. It only meant he had to be careful about it.
Unfortunately, Estonia was naive, or oblivious, or possibly both. Much to Poland’s frustration, all his hints, flattery and innuendo seemed to roll off that boy rather than sinking in. Damn him, Poland thought. It just wasn’t cool. Normally men figured out rather quickly when he was implying or suggesting something. Perhaps it had something to do with his approach. Or perhaps he was being too subtle, too cautious because Liet was around.
The sound of someone cursing pulled him from his thoughts. Poland slid out of his seat, padded over to the door, and peered into the dark hallway, where he saw a tall, shadowy figure who seemed to be glaring at the hall endtable.
“Estonia? Are you all right?”
“Mm?” Estonia turned toward him, blinking owlishly. “Oh, Poland. So you’re the one who’s awake. Yes, I’m fine – only I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a drink, but I didn’t bother to put on my glasses, and I forgot that Lithuania had re-arranged the furniture again.” He gestured to the table, smiling sheepishly. “And I kind of, ah. Walked into it.”
“I see.” Guts twisting a bit, Poland tried not to stare. It proved rather difficult. Seeing Estonia once more without his glasses on, and quite awake this time, made something stir inside him. It was his eyes. God, Poland thought, his eyes are gorgeous. Why didn’t I notice it before? It must have been because of the glasses, he decided. “Ah, well. If you’re staying up – since you can’t sleep, I mean – would you like some tea?”
“That would be great, actually.” And he smiled again.
Oh my god, Poland thought as he drifted back into the kitchen and went to put the kettle on. He smiled. He smiled at me. But did it matter? He had seen him smile so many times before, though more in recent years than in earlier decades. But those times, it had been different. Estonia had been hiding behind his glasses, and Poland hadn’t been spending hours – days, even – staring at him and flirting with him.
“So, what are you doing awake, anyway?”
“I was just...” I was trying to come up with a way to get you interested in me, Poland thought. “Just reading.”
“Really? I didn’t know you could.”
Oh no he didn’t! Poland thought. Turning to look at him sharply, he opened his mouth to give a saucy retort, but stopped. A faint smile was tugging at the corner of Estonia’s lips. His eyes were laughing, warm and good-natured. He’s teasing me, Poland thought, realization dawning. That’s one step down from flirting. “I’ll have you know,” he said, “I’m like, totally intellectual.”
“Oh really.”
“Really!” Huffing with mock-indignation, Poland moved closer, prodding Estonia in the chest. “I just act like a dumbass so that people underestimate me. And like, totally can’t predict what I’ll do next, too.”
“Now, I’m not so sure I believe that.” Estonia was trying not to smile, and failing. “You’ll have to try harder to convince me.”
Teasing again, Poland thought. At that moment, he realized just how close they were standing. It would be so easy to move in, to grab that moment, to take that chance. He might not get another, not so soon, not like that one. He decided to take it. “Try harder, hmm?” he said with a smirk, moving closer to trap Estonia against the counter with his body, hands resting on either side of him.
“Poland, what are you—“
Before the nation could get the entire sentence out, Poland kissed him, claiming his lips almost hungrily. Blue-green eyes widened, accompanied by a startled noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak, but he did not pull away and instead rested his shy, trembling hands on Poland’s shoulders, much to his surprise and pleasure. After a moment he broke the kiss lightly, lingering, then smirked and said in a low voice, “Bet you weren’t expecting that.”
“N-no,” Estonia replied. His cheeks were flushed pepper-red and he trembled slightly. “I wasn’t.” Licking his lips, he paused, seeming to consider something for a moment before asking, “Poland, what was that for?”
“What was what for?”
“I mean, why did you kiss me?”
Looking up at him, Poland could see he wasn’t just trembling as a result of being startled by the kiss. He really was nervous. Sighing, Poland drew back a bit to give Estonia some space to breathe. As the pale hands dropped, he took them in his own, squeezing gently to reassure him while his mind flew, turning over every possible approach. “Like, didn’t you notice that for the past few days I’ve been flirting with you like crazy?” Poland raised an eyebrow, watching carefully for Estonia’s reaction. Rapid blinking, a baffled expression. Crap, he thought, he really didn’t notice, did he? I really was too subtle.
But much to Poland’s surprise, after he got over his shock, Estonia nodded. “I did notice,” he said quietly, “But I thought I was imagining things.” A pause. “You really were flirting with me, then?”
At that, Poland grinned. Maybe not so subtle after all, he thought. And maybe Estonia wasn’t as naive as he seemed, either. “Really, really.”
“But why?”
“Uh, I like you? Duh.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, Poland became aware of a whistling sound. In their distraction, they both had completely forgotten about the tea kettle. Releasing the blushing nation’s hands, Poland went to attend to it, and as he did so wondered how long the water had been boiling. Damn that Estonia, for being so nervous and so clueless – and so attractive, too.
“This is all kind of sudden, though, isn’t it?”
“Mm?”
“You never showed any sign of liking me before.”
“Maybe you just, like, didn’t notice before,” Poland replied as he searched about in the cupboards for a mug, deliberately avoiding looking at the other nation. “You take lemon, right?”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.” Pause. “And I find it very hard to believe you really like me at all.”
Poland schooled his expression as he fetched the lemon juice and went about preparing the tea, though he had a feeling it did not matter, as at that distance Estonia surely couldn’t see him well enough to make out his features. He was watching him, however, and it made Poland’s guts twist. Maybe the whole thing hadn’t been such a good idea. “Why do you say that?”
There was a long pause, then Estonia asked quietly, “You’re dating my brother, aren’t you?”
“What the hell?! No!” Turning to face him, Poland stared, and at the sight of Estonia’s dead-serious expression he burst out laughing, much to the other’s surprise. “Liet? No way! You like, can’t be serious. I ain’t with him. Where’d you get a crazy idea like that?”
The blush had faded a bit from Estonia’s cheeks, but at Poland’s outburst it returned in full force. “I-it’s just, you two act like it, kind of. And I’ve heard things....”
“Trust me. We totally aren’t. I mean, like, if you asked if I love him, that’d be totally different. I do! I really do. Like, more than anyone else in the world. But like, not like that. He’d never want to go with me anyway. I’d drive him crazy in less than a week.” Poland paused, and watched him. Was that a sigh of relief he saw, or was he just imagining things? “Feel better now?”
“Yes. Somewhat,” Estonia replied cautiously, seemingly satisfied.
“Good.” Walking over to him, Poland pressed a kiss to his cheek, then cheerfully handed him the mug. “Now just chillax, and drink your tea. And then go to bed, ‘cause it’s late and if I keep you up, Liet will like, kill me.”
“Really?”
“Totally.”
Thin light came in through the window. The moon was waxing, but its beams were weak and though they touched the room, they did little to illuminate it. It didn’t matter. Everything was blurry to him, anyway.
Estonia stared up at the ceiling he couldn’t see and tried to relax beneath the warm quilts. The incident with Poland in the kitchen had done little to aid him in sleeping, though the hot tea had calmed his nerves slightly.
His lips still tingled from Poland’s kiss.
It was strange, he thought as he pressed his fingertips to his mouth. Strange how it felt as if it was new, as if he had never been kissed before, never felt the sensation of lips brushing his own or the tickle of breath over his cheeks. He did know it, but that had been years ago. Hundreds. He corrected himself. It had been hundreds of years since he had last felt that. So many hundreds since he had last felt the brush over fingertips over his palm, hears whispers by his ear, had known what it was to be nestled next to someone in quiet, comfortable, affectionate silence.
The thoughts stirred dim memories deep inside him. Estonia sighed and in his mind he could see his breath turning to mist in the cool, fresh night air. He recalled hands holding his own, and as he thought of it, he could nearly feel it. They were weather-beaten hands, and rough from work, but they were small, and gentle too. Slender, delicate fingers grazed lovingly over his palm, tracing the lines.
If he wished, he could have easily recalled the face those hands belonged to, but he did not want to draw up that image. It was too painful. Instead, he recalled one hand withdrawing, rising to point to the night sky. There were words, words in a language neither of them spoke any more, but he knew the meaning all the same, remembering it easily. He could never forget.
Look up there! It's like your eyes
Estonia looked, and in the sky there were blue and green lights dancing among the stars, a sight he had seen many times, but in that moment seemed to see anew. “How do you mean?” he said. He whispered it in the blurry dark, and could nearly see the mist ghosting his lips. Or, perhaps, that was just his imagination. He recalled, once again, the reply.
Your eyes are the same colour as the foxfire, and when you smile, they have stars in them.
They laughed, and when the colours changed, he said, “And now, they are like your eyes, too.” They stared up at the sky together, and after forever that one squeezed his hand, and he looked down at him, and suddenly they were close, so close. He felt lips on his mouth. They were rough, chapped and wind-whipped, but so gentle, so warm. He had known, then, he would want to keep that moment forever.
His eyes were burning. Estonia drew in a deep breath and carefully wiped them with the cuff of his pyjama sleeve. The cold was gone, the ice and the snow were gone, and the lights were gone, too. He was not in the north watching the aurora with that one, his beloved, by his side. He was in his brother’s guest room, wrapped in crisp white sheets and wool quilts.
Staring up at the blurry ceiling once again, Estonia tried, and failed, to find some logic in his emotions. Why did it hurt so much? It had been hundreds of years since that time, but still, he held on to that memory, though ordinarily he kept it hidden deep, locked away in his heart. Why? There was no good in keeping it. He had met with the one he had once called his beloved just two weeks ago, and though it hurt to see him, as it always did, he knew nothing would be as it was. They were only friends now, and had been that way for so long. Furthermore, the other was attached.
His chest felt so tight. Though he tried to bury his memories, they still surfaced, sometimes at the worst moments. Perhaps, he thought, it is because I haven’t moved on. In truth, for years he had been standing still, clinging to the lingering image of an older time.
Estonia licked his lips and thought of Poland. He began mentally tallying up the pros and cons. It was sudden, it was illogical, it made no sense whatsoever, and he still found himself suspecting something strange about the way Poland had acted toward him. On the other hand, Poland’s words echoed in his head, soft and playful. “Um, I like you? Duh?” Would he lie about that? After considering it, Estonia concluded, no. He would not. Poland was trustworthy and free with his genuine opinion, especially toward those he knew. Not only that, he was kind, even sweet, and more importantly, they knew each other well. And above all else, Poland was an almost entirely different person than that lover from long ago.
Estonia mulled over the thought, staring sightlessly upward.
His lips still tingled from the kiss.
He made his decision.
The hallway was dark, but there was a dim light visible through the crack beneath the door of the other guest room. Estonia rapped on it and waited. His insides twisted, and when he heard the soft voice inside say “Come in”, he began trembling nervously. Drawing in a deep breath, he counted to ten, then slipped inside.
The only light came from the bedside lamp. Poland stood by the bed, slowly buttoning up his pyjama top, the shadows playing gently over his face. He looked toward Estonia and arched an eyebrow, his expression soft and curious. “What’s up?” he asked. “You like, still can’t sleep, or something?”
“Yes.” When he spoke, his voice wavered. Silently cursing his shyness, Estonia pressed the door shut behind him.
“Me either. Seems Liet’s the only one who can sleep at all tonight. And that’s really weird, ‘cause like, it’s his day tomorrow.”
“Poland...”
“Yeah?” He had been acting as though nothing had happened between them at all, carefully folding the clothes he had been wearing and setting them atop the dresser. Estonia watched him as he moved, and after only a few seconds could barely stand it, but when Poland turned to look at him, his fresh green eyes low-lidded and questioning, something about his expression seemed to be inviting.
Estonia strode across the room, closing the distance between them. Taking Poland’s hands in his own, he squeezed them gently, unsure. He had so many things he wanted to say; he had run over his lines in his head at least ten times, wanting to get them right. But at that moment as he stood there in front of him, looking at him in the dim light and holding his hands in his own, which trembled as if they had their own minds, damn them, Estonia found himself wordless. “I...” His mind was blank. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing.” Cheeks flushing rose, he swallowed harshly, mortified. That wasn’t what you meant to say, damn you, he thought.
But Poland was smiling. Awkward though Estonia was, Poland was smiling. When the kiss came, it was nothing like the startling, unexpected gesture in the kitchen. It was light, it was gentle, and it was warm, almost comforting, reassuring. When Poland’s hands broke from his hold on them and slid to rest at his waist, Estonia didn’t protest, but drew the other closer instead, folding the shorter nation in his arms.
In little time he lost himself in the warmth of the slender figure nestled against him, melting from the sensation of his fingertips slipping through hair the colour of ripe grain, shivering from the brush and press of lips soft as poppy petals. When a content sigh escaped him, Poland took that opportunity to sneak into his mouth, slick and playfully probing, tasting of mint. Estonia offered no resistance then, either, instead returning the gesture, shyly at first, drinking in the taste of him. How long had it been since— he cut the thought off before it was finished, unwilling to think of northern skies and fresh snow, preferring to lose himself in Poland’s sunny fields.
Eventually they broke for air, lingering, breath mixing together. Estonia’s cheeks were flushed red, but he noticed Poland’s, too, were dusted a light rose-colour, though in his case not likely from shyness, as he looked rather pleased with himself. They watched each other a moment, silent and content. Then, nestling close, Poland began to brush kisses over Estonia’s cheek, his jaw, his throat.
Estonia allowed it, tilting his head back to bare more skin, though he found himself becoming steadily more flustered than he had been, if that was at all possible. Those gestures were something new, entirely unfamiliar, absolutely unlike what he had known so long ago, limited as that love had been to lip-kisses and warm embraces. But, he thought as his eyes drifted shut, Poland’s attentions were far from unwelcome.
The stroke of a slick, mischievous tongue over his throat made his pulse jump and his eyes snap open. A soft gasp escaped him as Poland did it again, and Estonia clung to him, feeling almost dizzy. It seemed Poland took that as an invitation, continuing his assault, clever mouth working while his hands moved from their place at Estonia’s waist up to the collar of his pyjama top. Slowly, steadily, he began slipping the buttons from their holes.
Estonia felt as though he might faint. Poland’s tongue, his hands carefully working, his body pressed against him – all of it made him feel heated, flustered, overwhelmed. It was so good, but it was too much, too quickly. He wasn’t used to this, and it was so long since he had experienced anything at all. In fact, he had expected he would never experience anything again, until Poland had stolen that kiss in the kitchen.
Lithuania’s kitchen.
The thought of Lithuania hit Estonia like a bucket of icewater over the head. Lithuania. His brother.
“Stop!” he gasped, reaching up to grab Poland’s hands, which thankfully had only worked through the top three buttons.
Poland, to his credit, immediately ceased and withdrew. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bright eyes filled with concern, even worry, and— guilt?
Estonia realized, suddenly, what that was. Poland thought he had done something wrong. Oh, he thought, that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Nothing’s wrong,” Estonia whispered, cursing once again his trembling hands and voice. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t worry.” Bringing Poland’s hands to his lips, he kissed them, brushing his lips over the delicate knuckles.
“But why—“
“Not here,” Estonia whispered, pressing one last kiss before he released the hands, letting them drop. “Not now.”
Looking unsure, Poland rested his hands on Estonia’s shoulders, which seemed to be as safe a place as any in the current situation. Biting his lip, he seemed to consider, and after a moment simply said, “I don’t get it.”
Estonia couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Poland, where are we?”
“Uh... the bedroom?”
“Mmhmm, and where is that?”
“Um...”
Estonia stared at him, waiting for the query to process. When it didn’t, he sighed, and kissed Poland’s forehead. “This room,” he said in a scholarly, matter-of-fact tone, “is located right next to the room where a certain other nation is sleeping. Not only is this nation our gracious host; he also happens to be my older brother.” Pausing for effect, he watched as Poland’s eyes widened slightly. The query went through. The hamster wheel was turning. “Forgive me if I’m not comfortable doing... things... like this, in this situation.”
“No, like, that’s okay. I totally understand.” Poland grinned, shaking his head. “No problem.”
Though Poland smiled, there was some disappointment in his eyes. Pretending he didn’t see it, Estonia drew him close once more and buried his face in the shorter nation’s soft yellow hair. Losing himself in the scent of him, Estonia weighed his options, considered the possibilities, and reached a verdict. After brushing a kiss against the gold strands, he ducked his head a bit to murmur by Poland’s ear, “Come to my house in Tallinn next week, before everyone else starts showing up for the celebration. We can spend more time together then.”
“Alone,” Poland whispered, a hint of a smirk in his voice.
The brush of warm breath over his ear made Estonia shiver. “Yes,” he replied, sighing, content. “Alone.”
Estonia drifted back to his own bedroom. His cheeks were flushed and his mouth was bruised from Poland’s kisses.
He smiled in the dark.
That night, his dreams would be filled with golden fields and laughing eyes the colour of fresh grass.
Characters/Pairing: Estonia/Poland; references to past Estonia/Finland
Rating: 13+
Length: 4900
Summary: Poland notices Estonia when they are both spending time visiting Lithuania. Something resembling a relationship might possibly result.
Other: Written for the Hetalia kink meme. (Original post).
Small Hours
The little house in Vilnius was filled with the warm, mouth-watering scent of poppyseed cookies.
It was four days before Lithuania’s independence celebration. As with every year, the spare rooms were dusted, fresh sheets were laid down, and the pantry was stocked in preparation for his guests. Already two people had invaded his living space, but Poland and Estonia were dear to him, and so Lithuania welcomed them with open arms, thankful at the very least that Latvia, America and all his other companions would not be arriving until the day of the celebration.
Busy though his house was, Lithuania didn’t mind playing host to his brother, his friend and those soon to come – though if anyone had asked, he would have been careful not to mention that soon he would happily get revenge for the invasion by staging one of his own, as it was only a short time before it would be Estonia’s turn to play host for his own independence day.
For the moment, however, Lithuania had to put up with Poland. Admittedly, it wasn’t terribly difficult. Give him something to do, stuff some sweets in his mouth, and he could be counted on to be happily quiet and minimally troublesome for a half hour at most.
Unfortunately, that half hour tended to pass rather quickly.
“Oh my god Liet, this stuff is so good!”
“Stop eating the dough; you’ll get salmonella. And I can’t make more cookies if you keep eating it, either. Oh, that’s the timer – there, just grab a tea towel and take that batch out of the oven. You can have one of those.”
“Right, right – ow!”
“Carefully.” Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lithuania took the tea-towel from his friend, wrapped his hand around it, and retrieved the cookie sheet from the oven himself, reflecting that it really was foolish of him to take his eyes off Poland for more than a second. “You’re not supposed to touch the sheet,” he said, scolding gently.
“But you said-“
“Never mind what I said.” Lithuania shoved a warm cookie in Poland’s mouth, ignoring the glare he received for that, and began piling some of the freshly-baked sweets on a plate. “Here,” he said, setting it in Poland’s hands. “Go offer one to Estonia. I think he’s in the living room, though he’s been awfully quiet. And don’t eat them all yourself.”
“Mmph,” said Poland through a mouthful of cookie, glaring once more at Lithuania before he wandered out into the living room.
“Estoniaaaaa. Hey, Estonia? Like, where’d you go – Oh.”
The nation was draped over the sofa, a paperback held loosely in his hands. From his lightly-closed eyes and slightly-slumped posture, it was clear that he had dozed off while reading. “Must’ve been a real boring novel,” Poland murmured as he set the plate of cookies down on the coffee table. He watched the other nation, unsure if he should wake him, but after debating for a moment he decided to let him sleep. Quietly, he stepped over to the sofa and bent down to carefully slip off Estonia’s glasses, then folded them neatly and set them carefully on the coffee table. It wouldn’t do to risk them being crushed if he shifted.
It was at that point that Poland looked toward him again, intending to draw the throw-blanket over him. But instead of doing so, he paused, his gaze lingering on Estonia’s face.
Strange.
Though Estonia was rarely seen without his spectacles, Poland had been in his company on a few occasions when he was without them. But at those times, he hardly looked at him at all, usually distracted by something or other. And generally he was not in such a close proximity to him, either. But now that he did take the time to look at him, it was – strange.
It was strange to see that Estonia was actually very good-looking without his glasses. Not that he wasn’t when he was wearing them, Poland reflected, but generally he had such a stuffy, bookish appearance about him. The glasses made him look like an accountant. But, without the spectacles obscuring his face, it was much easier to see how appealing he was. His features were refined, scholarly and quite handsome; without the lenses, it was so much easier to see the thick, light-coloured lashes, the dignified, perfectly-sloped nose. And as he was sleeping, there was something pleasantly serene about his expression.
Damn it, Poland thought. If only he was awake. His eyes, full and open – now, that would be a sight to see.
He considered kissing him. Those elegant, slightly-parted lips were certainly quite tempting. However, he thought better of it. Instead, he quietly resumed what he had intended to do, quietly taking the throw-blanket from where it was draped over the back of the sofa, unfolding it before carefully draping it over the sleeping scholar. Then, after pausing to appreciate the sight a moment longer, Poland made his way back to the kitchen.
“Liet! You never told me your brother is hot!”
“Which one?” Lithuania asked dryly, not bothering to glance up from the sink full of dishes he was washing.
“Ha. Very funny. Estonia, dummy.” Poland rolled his eyes and grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack, biting down delicately. “Mmnh. But, yeah. Him. He’s like, totally delicious. Seriously.”
“Hmph. Well, maybe he is, but I certainly wouldn’t know. He’s my brother, after all.”
“So what?” Poland replied with a smirk. “I bet you’ve heard about what Canada and America get up to. They’re brothers, too.”
“Those are just rumours,” Lithuania replied, a blush creeping over his cheeks. Removing his hands from the soapy water, he began drying them with a tea towel. “Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Looking toward his friend, a rather curious expression on his face, he asked, “Why are you going on about Estonia like this so suddenly? You’ve known him for years.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t seen him without his glasses on before – well, I mean like, I have, but I wasn’t really paying attention, you know?” Poland paused, thinking. No, he really hadn’t paid much attention to Estonia in the past at all, in truth. “Anyway, now that I’ve like, taken a close look, I gotta say, he’s like, totally hot.” Thinking back to what he had seen in the living room, he decided that hot didn’t even begin to describe that man, really.
“Poland?”
The blonde blinked, dragged out of his thought. “Yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow at Lithuania.
Pursing his lips, Lithuania folded the tea towel with more than the usual care, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You might be my friend,” he said mildly, “But I will warn you now: if you pursue anything with my little brother, I’ll have you drawn and quartered.”
“Well, all right – wait, what?” Poland stared at him. “Why? C’mon, Liet, you know you can trust me.”
“No, actually. Not with him. I’ve seen what happens when you get... involved with someone. It’s troublesome. And I just – well, I don’t want him getting hurt.”
“But I wouldn’t –“
“Of course,” Lithuania said, interrupting him, “You weren’t considering anything at all. Right?”
Poland opened his mouth to protest, wanting to say that actually, he was very well considering it, thank-you-very-much, but upon seeing his friend’s expression, he reconsidered. Normally, Lithuania wasn’t so terse, nor so forward, but there was something in his eyes that said he meant business. “... Right,” he said finally. “Like, totally wasn’t thinking of it at all. Nope.” Well, let him think what he wants, Poland thought. If things did get interesting, he wouldn’t have to know.
The lines of text in front of his eyes were meaningless. Poland read the same paragraph over and over, but somehow couldn’t comprehend a single word. A cup of tea sat cooling by his right hand. The ticking sound coming from the clock on the wall was almost maddening.
Poland couldn’t sleep. It was the night before Lithuania’s independence day and somehow he simply couldn’t sleep. Estonia and Lithuania had long since gone to bed, but there he was sitting at the kitchen table, reading.
Trying to read, anyway. His thoughts kept drifting to Estonia. Try though he might, he just couldn’t get his mind off the quiet, scholarly Baltic nation; not since that day he had come across him sleeping and had happened to see him with his glasses off. No, he couldn’t get him off his mind at all. Over the past few days he had even flirted with him, quite a bit in fact. However, he did it carefully, always checking to be sure Lithuania was distracted by something or other at the time. Poland knew that Lithuania was not the kind of person to make idle threats, but that didn’t mean that would deter Poland from pursuing anything with Estonia. It only meant he had to be careful about it.
Unfortunately, Estonia was naive, or oblivious, or possibly both. Much to Poland’s frustration, all his hints, flattery and innuendo seemed to roll off that boy rather than sinking in. Damn him, Poland thought. It just wasn’t cool. Normally men figured out rather quickly when he was implying or suggesting something. Perhaps it had something to do with his approach. Or perhaps he was being too subtle, too cautious because Liet was around.
The sound of someone cursing pulled him from his thoughts. Poland slid out of his seat, padded over to the door, and peered into the dark hallway, where he saw a tall, shadowy figure who seemed to be glaring at the hall endtable.
“Estonia? Are you all right?”
“Mm?” Estonia turned toward him, blinking owlishly. “Oh, Poland. So you’re the one who’s awake. Yes, I’m fine – only I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a drink, but I didn’t bother to put on my glasses, and I forgot that Lithuania had re-arranged the furniture again.” He gestured to the table, smiling sheepishly. “And I kind of, ah. Walked into it.”
“I see.” Guts twisting a bit, Poland tried not to stare. It proved rather difficult. Seeing Estonia once more without his glasses on, and quite awake this time, made something stir inside him. It was his eyes. God, Poland thought, his eyes are gorgeous. Why didn’t I notice it before? It must have been because of the glasses, he decided. “Ah, well. If you’re staying up – since you can’t sleep, I mean – would you like some tea?”
“That would be great, actually.” And he smiled again.
Oh my god, Poland thought as he drifted back into the kitchen and went to put the kettle on. He smiled. He smiled at me. But did it matter? He had seen him smile so many times before, though more in recent years than in earlier decades. But those times, it had been different. Estonia had been hiding behind his glasses, and Poland hadn’t been spending hours – days, even – staring at him and flirting with him.
“So, what are you doing awake, anyway?”
“I was just...” I was trying to come up with a way to get you interested in me, Poland thought. “Just reading.”
“Really? I didn’t know you could.”
Oh no he didn’t! Poland thought. Turning to look at him sharply, he opened his mouth to give a saucy retort, but stopped. A faint smile was tugging at the corner of Estonia’s lips. His eyes were laughing, warm and good-natured. He’s teasing me, Poland thought, realization dawning. That’s one step down from flirting. “I’ll have you know,” he said, “I’m like, totally intellectual.”
“Oh really.”
“Really!” Huffing with mock-indignation, Poland moved closer, prodding Estonia in the chest. “I just act like a dumbass so that people underestimate me. And like, totally can’t predict what I’ll do next, too.”
“Now, I’m not so sure I believe that.” Estonia was trying not to smile, and failing. “You’ll have to try harder to convince me.”
Teasing again, Poland thought. At that moment, he realized just how close they were standing. It would be so easy to move in, to grab that moment, to take that chance. He might not get another, not so soon, not like that one. He decided to take it. “Try harder, hmm?” he said with a smirk, moving closer to trap Estonia against the counter with his body, hands resting on either side of him.
“Poland, what are you—“
Before the nation could get the entire sentence out, Poland kissed him, claiming his lips almost hungrily. Blue-green eyes widened, accompanied by a startled noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak, but he did not pull away and instead rested his shy, trembling hands on Poland’s shoulders, much to his surprise and pleasure. After a moment he broke the kiss lightly, lingering, then smirked and said in a low voice, “Bet you weren’t expecting that.”
“N-no,” Estonia replied. His cheeks were flushed pepper-red and he trembled slightly. “I wasn’t.” Licking his lips, he paused, seeming to consider something for a moment before asking, “Poland, what was that for?”
“What was what for?”
“I mean, why did you kiss me?”
Looking up at him, Poland could see he wasn’t just trembling as a result of being startled by the kiss. He really was nervous. Sighing, Poland drew back a bit to give Estonia some space to breathe. As the pale hands dropped, he took them in his own, squeezing gently to reassure him while his mind flew, turning over every possible approach. “Like, didn’t you notice that for the past few days I’ve been flirting with you like crazy?” Poland raised an eyebrow, watching carefully for Estonia’s reaction. Rapid blinking, a baffled expression. Crap, he thought, he really didn’t notice, did he? I really was too subtle.
But much to Poland’s surprise, after he got over his shock, Estonia nodded. “I did notice,” he said quietly, “But I thought I was imagining things.” A pause. “You really were flirting with me, then?”
At that, Poland grinned. Maybe not so subtle after all, he thought. And maybe Estonia wasn’t as naive as he seemed, either. “Really, really.”
“But why?”
“Uh, I like you? Duh.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, Poland became aware of a whistling sound. In their distraction, they both had completely forgotten about the tea kettle. Releasing the blushing nation’s hands, Poland went to attend to it, and as he did so wondered how long the water had been boiling. Damn that Estonia, for being so nervous and so clueless – and so attractive, too.
“This is all kind of sudden, though, isn’t it?”
“Mm?”
“You never showed any sign of liking me before.”
“Maybe you just, like, didn’t notice before,” Poland replied as he searched about in the cupboards for a mug, deliberately avoiding looking at the other nation. “You take lemon, right?”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.” Pause. “And I find it very hard to believe you really like me at all.”
Poland schooled his expression as he fetched the lemon juice and went about preparing the tea, though he had a feeling it did not matter, as at that distance Estonia surely couldn’t see him well enough to make out his features. He was watching him, however, and it made Poland’s guts twist. Maybe the whole thing hadn’t been such a good idea. “Why do you say that?”
There was a long pause, then Estonia asked quietly, “You’re dating my brother, aren’t you?”
“What the hell?! No!” Turning to face him, Poland stared, and at the sight of Estonia’s dead-serious expression he burst out laughing, much to the other’s surprise. “Liet? No way! You like, can’t be serious. I ain’t with him. Where’d you get a crazy idea like that?”
The blush had faded a bit from Estonia’s cheeks, but at Poland’s outburst it returned in full force. “I-it’s just, you two act like it, kind of. And I’ve heard things....”
“Trust me. We totally aren’t. I mean, like, if you asked if I love him, that’d be totally different. I do! I really do. Like, more than anyone else in the world. But like, not like that. He’d never want to go with me anyway. I’d drive him crazy in less than a week.” Poland paused, and watched him. Was that a sigh of relief he saw, or was he just imagining things? “Feel better now?”
“Yes. Somewhat,” Estonia replied cautiously, seemingly satisfied.
“Good.” Walking over to him, Poland pressed a kiss to his cheek, then cheerfully handed him the mug. “Now just chillax, and drink your tea. And then go to bed, ‘cause it’s late and if I keep you up, Liet will like, kill me.”
“Really?”
“Totally.”
Thin light came in through the window. The moon was waxing, but its beams were weak and though they touched the room, they did little to illuminate it. It didn’t matter. Everything was blurry to him, anyway.
Estonia stared up at the ceiling he couldn’t see and tried to relax beneath the warm quilts. The incident with Poland in the kitchen had done little to aid him in sleeping, though the hot tea had calmed his nerves slightly.
His lips still tingled from Poland’s kiss.
It was strange, he thought as he pressed his fingertips to his mouth. Strange how it felt as if it was new, as if he had never been kissed before, never felt the sensation of lips brushing his own or the tickle of breath over his cheeks. He did know it, but that had been years ago. Hundreds. He corrected himself. It had been hundreds of years since he had last felt that. So many hundreds since he had last felt the brush over fingertips over his palm, hears whispers by his ear, had known what it was to be nestled next to someone in quiet, comfortable, affectionate silence.
The thoughts stirred dim memories deep inside him. Estonia sighed and in his mind he could see his breath turning to mist in the cool, fresh night air. He recalled hands holding his own, and as he thought of it, he could nearly feel it. They were weather-beaten hands, and rough from work, but they were small, and gentle too. Slender, delicate fingers grazed lovingly over his palm, tracing the lines.
If he wished, he could have easily recalled the face those hands belonged to, but he did not want to draw up that image. It was too painful. Instead, he recalled one hand withdrawing, rising to point to the night sky. There were words, words in a language neither of them spoke any more, but he knew the meaning all the same, remembering it easily. He could never forget.
Look up there! It's like your eyes
Estonia looked, and in the sky there were blue and green lights dancing among the stars, a sight he had seen many times, but in that moment seemed to see anew. “How do you mean?” he said. He whispered it in the blurry dark, and could nearly see the mist ghosting his lips. Or, perhaps, that was just his imagination. He recalled, once again, the reply.
Your eyes are the same colour as the foxfire, and when you smile, they have stars in them.
They laughed, and when the colours changed, he said, “And now, they are like your eyes, too.” They stared up at the sky together, and after forever that one squeezed his hand, and he looked down at him, and suddenly they were close, so close. He felt lips on his mouth. They were rough, chapped and wind-whipped, but so gentle, so warm. He had known, then, he would want to keep that moment forever.
His eyes were burning. Estonia drew in a deep breath and carefully wiped them with the cuff of his pyjama sleeve. The cold was gone, the ice and the snow were gone, and the lights were gone, too. He was not in the north watching the aurora with that one, his beloved, by his side. He was in his brother’s guest room, wrapped in crisp white sheets and wool quilts.
Staring up at the blurry ceiling once again, Estonia tried, and failed, to find some logic in his emotions. Why did it hurt so much? It had been hundreds of years since that time, but still, he held on to that memory, though ordinarily he kept it hidden deep, locked away in his heart. Why? There was no good in keeping it. He had met with the one he had once called his beloved just two weeks ago, and though it hurt to see him, as it always did, he knew nothing would be as it was. They were only friends now, and had been that way for so long. Furthermore, the other was attached.
His chest felt so tight. Though he tried to bury his memories, they still surfaced, sometimes at the worst moments. Perhaps, he thought, it is because I haven’t moved on. In truth, for years he had been standing still, clinging to the lingering image of an older time.
Estonia licked his lips and thought of Poland. He began mentally tallying up the pros and cons. It was sudden, it was illogical, it made no sense whatsoever, and he still found himself suspecting something strange about the way Poland had acted toward him. On the other hand, Poland’s words echoed in his head, soft and playful. “Um, I like you? Duh?” Would he lie about that? After considering it, Estonia concluded, no. He would not. Poland was trustworthy and free with his genuine opinion, especially toward those he knew. Not only that, he was kind, even sweet, and more importantly, they knew each other well. And above all else, Poland was an almost entirely different person than that lover from long ago.
Estonia mulled over the thought, staring sightlessly upward.
His lips still tingled from the kiss.
He made his decision.
The hallway was dark, but there was a dim light visible through the crack beneath the door of the other guest room. Estonia rapped on it and waited. His insides twisted, and when he heard the soft voice inside say “Come in”, he began trembling nervously. Drawing in a deep breath, he counted to ten, then slipped inside.
The only light came from the bedside lamp. Poland stood by the bed, slowly buttoning up his pyjama top, the shadows playing gently over his face. He looked toward Estonia and arched an eyebrow, his expression soft and curious. “What’s up?” he asked. “You like, still can’t sleep, or something?”
“Yes.” When he spoke, his voice wavered. Silently cursing his shyness, Estonia pressed the door shut behind him.
“Me either. Seems Liet’s the only one who can sleep at all tonight. And that’s really weird, ‘cause like, it’s his day tomorrow.”
“Poland...”
“Yeah?” He had been acting as though nothing had happened between them at all, carefully folding the clothes he had been wearing and setting them atop the dresser. Estonia watched him as he moved, and after only a few seconds could barely stand it, but when Poland turned to look at him, his fresh green eyes low-lidded and questioning, something about his expression seemed to be inviting.
Estonia strode across the room, closing the distance between them. Taking Poland’s hands in his own, he squeezed them gently, unsure. He had so many things he wanted to say; he had run over his lines in his head at least ten times, wanting to get them right. But at that moment as he stood there in front of him, looking at him in the dim light and holding his hands in his own, which trembled as if they had their own minds, damn them, Estonia found himself wordless. “I...” His mind was blank. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing.” Cheeks flushing rose, he swallowed harshly, mortified. That wasn’t what you meant to say, damn you, he thought.
But Poland was smiling. Awkward though Estonia was, Poland was smiling. When the kiss came, it was nothing like the startling, unexpected gesture in the kitchen. It was light, it was gentle, and it was warm, almost comforting, reassuring. When Poland’s hands broke from his hold on them and slid to rest at his waist, Estonia didn’t protest, but drew the other closer instead, folding the shorter nation in his arms.
In little time he lost himself in the warmth of the slender figure nestled against him, melting from the sensation of his fingertips slipping through hair the colour of ripe grain, shivering from the brush and press of lips soft as poppy petals. When a content sigh escaped him, Poland took that opportunity to sneak into his mouth, slick and playfully probing, tasting of mint. Estonia offered no resistance then, either, instead returning the gesture, shyly at first, drinking in the taste of him. How long had it been since— he cut the thought off before it was finished, unwilling to think of northern skies and fresh snow, preferring to lose himself in Poland’s sunny fields.
Eventually they broke for air, lingering, breath mixing together. Estonia’s cheeks were flushed red, but he noticed Poland’s, too, were dusted a light rose-colour, though in his case not likely from shyness, as he looked rather pleased with himself. They watched each other a moment, silent and content. Then, nestling close, Poland began to brush kisses over Estonia’s cheek, his jaw, his throat.
Estonia allowed it, tilting his head back to bare more skin, though he found himself becoming steadily more flustered than he had been, if that was at all possible. Those gestures were something new, entirely unfamiliar, absolutely unlike what he had known so long ago, limited as that love had been to lip-kisses and warm embraces. But, he thought as his eyes drifted shut, Poland’s attentions were far from unwelcome.
The stroke of a slick, mischievous tongue over his throat made his pulse jump and his eyes snap open. A soft gasp escaped him as Poland did it again, and Estonia clung to him, feeling almost dizzy. It seemed Poland took that as an invitation, continuing his assault, clever mouth working while his hands moved from their place at Estonia’s waist up to the collar of his pyjama top. Slowly, steadily, he began slipping the buttons from their holes.
Estonia felt as though he might faint. Poland’s tongue, his hands carefully working, his body pressed against him – all of it made him feel heated, flustered, overwhelmed. It was so good, but it was too much, too quickly. He wasn’t used to this, and it was so long since he had experienced anything at all. In fact, he had expected he would never experience anything again, until Poland had stolen that kiss in the kitchen.
Lithuania’s kitchen.
The thought of Lithuania hit Estonia like a bucket of icewater over the head. Lithuania. His brother.
“Stop!” he gasped, reaching up to grab Poland’s hands, which thankfully had only worked through the top three buttons.
Poland, to his credit, immediately ceased and withdrew. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bright eyes filled with concern, even worry, and— guilt?
Estonia realized, suddenly, what that was. Poland thought he had done something wrong. Oh, he thought, that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Nothing’s wrong,” Estonia whispered, cursing once again his trembling hands and voice. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t worry.” Bringing Poland’s hands to his lips, he kissed them, brushing his lips over the delicate knuckles.
“But why—“
“Not here,” Estonia whispered, pressing one last kiss before he released the hands, letting them drop. “Not now.”
Looking unsure, Poland rested his hands on Estonia’s shoulders, which seemed to be as safe a place as any in the current situation. Biting his lip, he seemed to consider, and after a moment simply said, “I don’t get it.”
Estonia couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Poland, where are we?”
“Uh... the bedroom?”
“Mmhmm, and where is that?”
“Um...”
Estonia stared at him, waiting for the query to process. When it didn’t, he sighed, and kissed Poland’s forehead. “This room,” he said in a scholarly, matter-of-fact tone, “is located right next to the room where a certain other nation is sleeping. Not only is this nation our gracious host; he also happens to be my older brother.” Pausing for effect, he watched as Poland’s eyes widened slightly. The query went through. The hamster wheel was turning. “Forgive me if I’m not comfortable doing... things... like this, in this situation.”
“No, like, that’s okay. I totally understand.” Poland grinned, shaking his head. “No problem.”
Though Poland smiled, there was some disappointment in his eyes. Pretending he didn’t see it, Estonia drew him close once more and buried his face in the shorter nation’s soft yellow hair. Losing himself in the scent of him, Estonia weighed his options, considered the possibilities, and reached a verdict. After brushing a kiss against the gold strands, he ducked his head a bit to murmur by Poland’s ear, “Come to my house in Tallinn next week, before everyone else starts showing up for the celebration. We can spend more time together then.”
“Alone,” Poland whispered, a hint of a smirk in his voice.
The brush of warm breath over his ear made Estonia shiver. “Yes,” he replied, sighing, content. “Alone.”
Estonia drifted back to his own bedroom. His cheeks were flushed and his mouth was bruised from Poland’s kisses.
He smiled in the dark.
That night, his dreams would be filled with golden fields and laughing eyes the colour of fresh grass.
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