Remember the Night [Estonia/Finland]
May. 19th, 2009 06:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Remember the Night
Characters/Pairing: Estonia/Finland; references to Norway/Sweden
Rating: 15+
Length: 2200
Summary: fter Norway's Eurovision victory, Estonia is left to deal with a drunk, upset Finland.
Other: Written for Dei. Posted at my journal. (Original entry)
Remember the Night
Laughter, talk, and drinks all around. It was an energy-filled night. The Eurovision Song Contest had ended just hours ago and, not about to let the night go out without celebration, the participating nations had gathered together for an afterparty.
At the centre of it all was Norway, who accepted all the praise delivered to him with a smile and a faint mistiness in his eyes. In a quiet moment he could be seen talking with Sweden, who had lingered near him most of the night.
“Was a good show,” Sweden said, lifting his glass. “An’ right b’fore your birthday, too.”
“Oslo will be a madhouse tomorrow, I’m sure,” Norway replied. As the two of them clinked glasses in a toast to an excellent performance, it was clear by the smile on Norway’s face that he would not have it any other way.
Estonia stood nearby taking everything in, a glass in-hand. He had already delivered his congratulations and at that point was doing his very best to belay any lingering hints of bitterness that came from not winning. Sixth place was nothing to sniff at; and of course, there was always next year.
After a time he became dimly aware of two voices speaking nearby in the loud, harsh tones of the intoxicated. Recognizing one of them as Finland, he pursed his lips and turned his attention in that direction, soon realizing that the other person was Denmark.
Picking them out of the crowd was the work of seconds. Whatever Finland had said seemed to have pushed Denmark’s buttons, as his lips were drawn back into a toothy, malicious grin. Still, it was clear that bothered though he was, it would not come to blows just yet, as Denmark was not finished with his taunting. “Y’look a little flustered, Fin,” he drawled, winking. “Don’t tell me yer gonna’ go’n lose control, now.”
Finland let out a string of curses that Estonia didn’t quite catch, though some of it sounded suspiciously like “suck cock in hell, you goddamn reindeer fucker”. It was quickly becoming clear that if Denmark wouldn’t make the first move, Finland would. Estonia sighed and set down his glass. Very well, then.
He made his way over to the two of them and in one elegant movement drew his friend aside. “Finland! I’ve been looking all over for you! Excuse me,” he said, flashing one of his winning smiles at Denmark, who looked as if he was just about ready to strangle Finland, “I need to borrow him, if you don’t mind.” Before either of the Nordic nations could properly protest, Estonia swept his friend into a quiet corner far from the excitement.
“Are you all right?” he asked when they finally had a moment to breathe.
Finland looked up at him. “I’m fine,” he protested. His cheeks were flushed, perhaps from anger, or perhaps from having too much to drink. “Why’d you have to go and do that? I could’ve taken him.”
Estonia sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he replied patiently, switching to Finnish. “But now is neither the time nor the place. Relax a little, will you? You’re acting like you’ve downed too much of the firewater, so to speak.”
Finland drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t! It’s just that I’m sick of hearing about that goddamn song and fucking twenty-two points and if I have to hear one more person go on about Nor-fucking-way I think I might have to strangle ‘em with their own guts and-”
“Then let’s leave,” Estonia said firmly, glancing back toward the room. He was certain he would not be missed; in fact, it was unlikely anyone would notice he had left at all. “I promise you will hear nothing about music, scoring or certain nations from me.”
Relief washed over Finland’s face. “Okay,” he said. “Which way is out...?”
“This way.” Though Finland had protested regarding his drinking, his stumbling clearly indicated otherwise, and so Estonia led him, taking care to keep him steady. It was when they were finally out in the cool night air waiting for a cab that Finland’s mind seemed to clear a bit.
“Thanks for that,” he said, his hands in his pockets, his gaze firmly set on his shoes. “Back there I mean. I, well, you know.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There was a pause. “You know, you deserved far better than you placed. Norway robbed you.”
Estonia shook his head. “I’m satisfied with my lot,” he said firmly, then looked at his friend and offered him a smile, determined to let the issue drop before Finland got worked up again. “Come on, now. Don’t worry about you-know-who. We’ll just go back to the hotel and relax. Okay? Some rest and a hot cup of tea would do you a world of good, Soome.”
At the sound of the familiar name Finland returned the smile, albeit a bit shakily. “Okay,” he said quietly, resting his head against Estonia’s shoulder, a gesture that made its recipient flush. “Whatever you say.”
Estonia hummed quietly as he dipped his fingers into the bathwater thick with fluffy bubbles. Not too hot. Good. He let the water run a while, then turned off the tap, calling out just loudly enough for Finland to hear him in the main room. “It’s ready.”
“Ah?” The door creaked open and Finland padded in on slippered feet, dressed in a white bathrobe tied snugly around the waist. “You didn’t have to, you know,” he said, tsking quietly.
“I know,” Estonia replied. “But I wanted to, and the steam will help you clear your head a bit. Now, go on. I’m sure you’ll be refreshed in no time.”
“You’ll stick around, right?”
“Of course.”
From where he sat at the writing desk going through the day’s newspaper, Estonia could hear splashing water and the occasional content sigh. For a flickering moment his mind wandered to Finland, and the image of him in the bath – A deep flush spread over his cheeks and he shoved the thought down as quickly as it had arrived. No good could come from that, he decided. He turned his mind to the evening’s earlier events, going over everything in attempt to think of anything but Finland.
It was very, very difficult.
After a while the sound of the water draining could be heard and Finland emerged soon afterward, a light smile on his face. He looked flushed, but this time it was from the steam, rather than drink.
“Enjoyed yourself?” Estonia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Sobered up a little bit.” It seemed the colour on Finland’s cheeks deepened, but Estonia dismissed it as his imagination. “Though I didn’t really drink that much tonight; don’t know what was wrong with me.”
“It’s been a very trying night for you, that’s all,” Estonia said. He rose from the writing desk and went to the electric kettle. “What do you say to tea?”
“I’d like that.”
Soon water was boiling and the atmosphere of the room itself was one of quiet contentment. The tension from earlier in the evening had ebbed away, and they were left with tea and each other, the old, comfortable familiarity. Their time was spent in quiet talk – talk of anything and everything except Eurovision. As usual it led to teasing and laughter and eventually the both of them were unable to stifle their chuckles.
“That’s better,” Estonia said, pleased at the sight of Finland’s broad smile. “That’s a lot better.”
“What?”
“You.” It was a sight that sent warmth shooting deep down inside of him, but Estonia restrained the feeling as much as possible, doing the best he could not to show quite what he felt. “Seems like you’re feeling a lot better.”
“Well, that’s all your work,” Finland said, setting down his mug and offering him another bright smile. “You’re good at that.”
Estonia could feel a blush creeping over his cheeks. Eager to hide it, he rose and went to the kettle again. “Ah – would you like more tea? I could boil some more water.” There was no mistaking the tremor in his voice, and he cursed silently, wishing he was better at restraining himself.
“No, I don’t think so.” There was the sound of shifting fabric as Finland rose from where he sat on the bed and approached. “Mm. Estonia?” A hand at his shoulder bid him turn, and after hesitating a moment Estonia bent to the gesture.
“Yes?” The tremor hadn’t left him, and Estonia found his insides twisting nervously. Finland was still smiling that smile, the special one that it seemed he allowed no one else to see, a smile reserved only for him. Though he had seen it so many times before it still made him melt, clouded his judgement and—
His train of thought was abruptly cut short when Finland pressed him against the wall and kissed him. Estonia’s eyes widened and he froze, flustered and unsure what to do. It seemed he couldn’t even breathe, and when Finland broke the kiss and looked up at him with what seemed to be a hopeful expression, it was still a long moment before Estonia remembered that yes, air was necessary. He took a deep breath and desperately tried to clear his senses. “S-Soome, what was that for?” he asked, swallowing harshly.
Finland smiled again. Damn him, Estonia thought. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, resting his head against Estonia’s shoulder. “About some things. You.”
“Ah?” For a moment he hesitated, then rested his hands at Finland’s waist, a movement that was entirely contrary to his better judgement. He tried not to think of how Finland’s hair was slightly damp from washing, and his skin was still warmed from the steam, and he was not properly dressed, still clothed only in his white bathrobe. Estonia cleared his throat and wished he could motivate himself to pull away and go splash himself with some cold tap water. “Elaborate, please.”
“I like you a lot. You know that.” Finland sighed, his breath ghosting Estonia’s skin. “But more than just the way it’s been lately. Now it’s more like the way I felt a long time ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know.” Finland lifted his head, and suddenly they were nose-to-nose. Dangerously close. Frustratingly close. “A long time ago. Do you remember?”
Estonia found himself speechless, but there must have been some sign on his face that said yes, he remembered, as Finland kissed him again, warm and firm and deep. That time Estonia returned it, drawing Finland snugly against him. Yes, he thought, he remembered it. It was impossible for him to forget the snow and the storm and the firelight and the scent of pine in Finland’s hair. But, he thought, that was a long time ago, when they were younger and things were different.
When they finally drew away they were quiet for a moment, lingering and breathless. It was Finland who broke the silence. “Stay tonight,” he whispered by Estonia’s ear. His tone was low and husky and there was no question as to what he was implying. The fluttering breath made Estonia shiver. Even so, part of him remembered something of vital importance.
“But Sweden-“ His words were interrupted when Finland pressed two fingers to his lips.
“Sweden has his own room,” Finland said firmly. “And what I do isn’t any of his business.”
Estonia pursed his lips and digested that information. “I knew you were having problems, but...” He trailed off as Finland shook his head.
“We’ve been ‘having problems’ for a long time now. We’re not together any more, and he’s not my husband.” Pause. “Not that I was ever his wife to begin with or anything, but you know what I mean.”
“I. Ah. Yes, I know. But I thought you still-“
“No. But we get along. And sometimes we get together, just for old time’s sake. But not for serious, and not tonight.”
Estonia thought back to earlier in the evening. He remembered the way Sweden had sat close to Norway, occasionally leaning quite close to say something too quiet for anyone to hear, something that made Norway smile, at times even laugh. At the time Estonia had thought nothing of it. “I think,” he said quietly, “it isn’t the contest that made you so upset tonight.”
“Maybe.” Finland seemed suddenly tired. “But it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that I was pissed off, and then you were there. You’re always there, and you care about me, and you always make me so happy and when you speak to me you speak in my language, and I just. I.” He took a deep breath. “Stay. Stay the night. Please.”
Estonia hesitated for only a moment. “Okay,” he said, brushing a kiss over Finland’s cheek. “Okay. I’ll st-“ His words were cut off by the press of soft lips to his mouth. He gave in to the gesture without protesting. It was all right. It was more than all right.
The rest of that night was filled with wordless sighs drawn out by lips gliding over skin. Mouths met as fingers traced paths they had not wandered in centuries, making shoulders tremble and calloused hands bunch the white sheets. As they recalled the words to that old song they had not sung since the days of wind and firelight, they knew there would be no awkward moments when the dawn arrived. This was something they had shared once before, always remembered, never forgotten.
Characters/Pairing: Estonia/Finland; references to Norway/Sweden
Rating: 15+
Length: 2200
Summary: fter Norway's Eurovision victory, Estonia is left to deal with a drunk, upset Finland.
Other: Written for Dei. Posted at my journal. (Original entry)
Remember the Night
Laughter, talk, and drinks all around. It was an energy-filled night. The Eurovision Song Contest had ended just hours ago and, not about to let the night go out without celebration, the participating nations had gathered together for an afterparty.
At the centre of it all was Norway, who accepted all the praise delivered to him with a smile and a faint mistiness in his eyes. In a quiet moment he could be seen talking with Sweden, who had lingered near him most of the night.
“Was a good show,” Sweden said, lifting his glass. “An’ right b’fore your birthday, too.”
“Oslo will be a madhouse tomorrow, I’m sure,” Norway replied. As the two of them clinked glasses in a toast to an excellent performance, it was clear by the smile on Norway’s face that he would not have it any other way.
Estonia stood nearby taking everything in, a glass in-hand. He had already delivered his congratulations and at that point was doing his very best to belay any lingering hints of bitterness that came from not winning. Sixth place was nothing to sniff at; and of course, there was always next year.
After a time he became dimly aware of two voices speaking nearby in the loud, harsh tones of the intoxicated. Recognizing one of them as Finland, he pursed his lips and turned his attention in that direction, soon realizing that the other person was Denmark.
Picking them out of the crowd was the work of seconds. Whatever Finland had said seemed to have pushed Denmark’s buttons, as his lips were drawn back into a toothy, malicious grin. Still, it was clear that bothered though he was, it would not come to blows just yet, as Denmark was not finished with his taunting. “Y’look a little flustered, Fin,” he drawled, winking. “Don’t tell me yer gonna’ go’n lose control, now.”
Finland let out a string of curses that Estonia didn’t quite catch, though some of it sounded suspiciously like “suck cock in hell, you goddamn reindeer fucker”. It was quickly becoming clear that if Denmark wouldn’t make the first move, Finland would. Estonia sighed and set down his glass. Very well, then.
He made his way over to the two of them and in one elegant movement drew his friend aside. “Finland! I’ve been looking all over for you! Excuse me,” he said, flashing one of his winning smiles at Denmark, who looked as if he was just about ready to strangle Finland, “I need to borrow him, if you don’t mind.” Before either of the Nordic nations could properly protest, Estonia swept his friend into a quiet corner far from the excitement.
“Are you all right?” he asked when they finally had a moment to breathe.
Finland looked up at him. “I’m fine,” he protested. His cheeks were flushed, perhaps from anger, or perhaps from having too much to drink. “Why’d you have to go and do that? I could’ve taken him.”
Estonia sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he replied patiently, switching to Finnish. “But now is neither the time nor the place. Relax a little, will you? You’re acting like you’ve downed too much of the firewater, so to speak.”
Finland drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t! It’s just that I’m sick of hearing about that goddamn song and fucking twenty-two points and if I have to hear one more person go on about Nor-fucking-way I think I might have to strangle ‘em with their own guts and-”
“Then let’s leave,” Estonia said firmly, glancing back toward the room. He was certain he would not be missed; in fact, it was unlikely anyone would notice he had left at all. “I promise you will hear nothing about music, scoring or certain nations from me.”
Relief washed over Finland’s face. “Okay,” he said. “Which way is out...?”
“This way.” Though Finland had protested regarding his drinking, his stumbling clearly indicated otherwise, and so Estonia led him, taking care to keep him steady. It was when they were finally out in the cool night air waiting for a cab that Finland’s mind seemed to clear a bit.
“Thanks for that,” he said, his hands in his pockets, his gaze firmly set on his shoes. “Back there I mean. I, well, you know.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There was a pause. “You know, you deserved far better than you placed. Norway robbed you.”
Estonia shook his head. “I’m satisfied with my lot,” he said firmly, then looked at his friend and offered him a smile, determined to let the issue drop before Finland got worked up again. “Come on, now. Don’t worry about you-know-who. We’ll just go back to the hotel and relax. Okay? Some rest and a hot cup of tea would do you a world of good, Soome.”
At the sound of the familiar name Finland returned the smile, albeit a bit shakily. “Okay,” he said quietly, resting his head against Estonia’s shoulder, a gesture that made its recipient flush. “Whatever you say.”
Estonia hummed quietly as he dipped his fingers into the bathwater thick with fluffy bubbles. Not too hot. Good. He let the water run a while, then turned off the tap, calling out just loudly enough for Finland to hear him in the main room. “It’s ready.”
“Ah?” The door creaked open and Finland padded in on slippered feet, dressed in a white bathrobe tied snugly around the waist. “You didn’t have to, you know,” he said, tsking quietly.
“I know,” Estonia replied. “But I wanted to, and the steam will help you clear your head a bit. Now, go on. I’m sure you’ll be refreshed in no time.”
“You’ll stick around, right?”
“Of course.”
From where he sat at the writing desk going through the day’s newspaper, Estonia could hear splashing water and the occasional content sigh. For a flickering moment his mind wandered to Finland, and the image of him in the bath – A deep flush spread over his cheeks and he shoved the thought down as quickly as it had arrived. No good could come from that, he decided. He turned his mind to the evening’s earlier events, going over everything in attempt to think of anything but Finland.
It was very, very difficult.
After a while the sound of the water draining could be heard and Finland emerged soon afterward, a light smile on his face. He looked flushed, but this time it was from the steam, rather than drink.
“Enjoyed yourself?” Estonia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Sobered up a little bit.” It seemed the colour on Finland’s cheeks deepened, but Estonia dismissed it as his imagination. “Though I didn’t really drink that much tonight; don’t know what was wrong with me.”
“It’s been a very trying night for you, that’s all,” Estonia said. He rose from the writing desk and went to the electric kettle. “What do you say to tea?”
“I’d like that.”
Soon water was boiling and the atmosphere of the room itself was one of quiet contentment. The tension from earlier in the evening had ebbed away, and they were left with tea and each other, the old, comfortable familiarity. Their time was spent in quiet talk – talk of anything and everything except Eurovision. As usual it led to teasing and laughter and eventually the both of them were unable to stifle their chuckles.
“That’s better,” Estonia said, pleased at the sight of Finland’s broad smile. “That’s a lot better.”
“What?”
“You.” It was a sight that sent warmth shooting deep down inside of him, but Estonia restrained the feeling as much as possible, doing the best he could not to show quite what he felt. “Seems like you’re feeling a lot better.”
“Well, that’s all your work,” Finland said, setting down his mug and offering him another bright smile. “You’re good at that.”
Estonia could feel a blush creeping over his cheeks. Eager to hide it, he rose and went to the kettle again. “Ah – would you like more tea? I could boil some more water.” There was no mistaking the tremor in his voice, and he cursed silently, wishing he was better at restraining himself.
“No, I don’t think so.” There was the sound of shifting fabric as Finland rose from where he sat on the bed and approached. “Mm. Estonia?” A hand at his shoulder bid him turn, and after hesitating a moment Estonia bent to the gesture.
“Yes?” The tremor hadn’t left him, and Estonia found his insides twisting nervously. Finland was still smiling that smile, the special one that it seemed he allowed no one else to see, a smile reserved only for him. Though he had seen it so many times before it still made him melt, clouded his judgement and—
His train of thought was abruptly cut short when Finland pressed him against the wall and kissed him. Estonia’s eyes widened and he froze, flustered and unsure what to do. It seemed he couldn’t even breathe, and when Finland broke the kiss and looked up at him with what seemed to be a hopeful expression, it was still a long moment before Estonia remembered that yes, air was necessary. He took a deep breath and desperately tried to clear his senses. “S-Soome, what was that for?” he asked, swallowing harshly.
Finland smiled again. Damn him, Estonia thought. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, resting his head against Estonia’s shoulder. “About some things. You.”
“Ah?” For a moment he hesitated, then rested his hands at Finland’s waist, a movement that was entirely contrary to his better judgement. He tried not to think of how Finland’s hair was slightly damp from washing, and his skin was still warmed from the steam, and he was not properly dressed, still clothed only in his white bathrobe. Estonia cleared his throat and wished he could motivate himself to pull away and go splash himself with some cold tap water. “Elaborate, please.”
“I like you a lot. You know that.” Finland sighed, his breath ghosting Estonia’s skin. “But more than just the way it’s been lately. Now it’s more like the way I felt a long time ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know.” Finland lifted his head, and suddenly they were nose-to-nose. Dangerously close. Frustratingly close. “A long time ago. Do you remember?”
Estonia found himself speechless, but there must have been some sign on his face that said yes, he remembered, as Finland kissed him again, warm and firm and deep. That time Estonia returned it, drawing Finland snugly against him. Yes, he thought, he remembered it. It was impossible for him to forget the snow and the storm and the firelight and the scent of pine in Finland’s hair. But, he thought, that was a long time ago, when they were younger and things were different.
When they finally drew away they were quiet for a moment, lingering and breathless. It was Finland who broke the silence. “Stay tonight,” he whispered by Estonia’s ear. His tone was low and husky and there was no question as to what he was implying. The fluttering breath made Estonia shiver. Even so, part of him remembered something of vital importance.
“But Sweden-“ His words were interrupted when Finland pressed two fingers to his lips.
“Sweden has his own room,” Finland said firmly. “And what I do isn’t any of his business.”
Estonia pursed his lips and digested that information. “I knew you were having problems, but...” He trailed off as Finland shook his head.
“We’ve been ‘having problems’ for a long time now. We’re not together any more, and he’s not my husband.” Pause. “Not that I was ever his wife to begin with or anything, but you know what I mean.”
“I. Ah. Yes, I know. But I thought you still-“
“No. But we get along. And sometimes we get together, just for old time’s sake. But not for serious, and not tonight.”
Estonia thought back to earlier in the evening. He remembered the way Sweden had sat close to Norway, occasionally leaning quite close to say something too quiet for anyone to hear, something that made Norway smile, at times even laugh. At the time Estonia had thought nothing of it. “I think,” he said quietly, “it isn’t the contest that made you so upset tonight.”
“Maybe.” Finland seemed suddenly tired. “But it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that I was pissed off, and then you were there. You’re always there, and you care about me, and you always make me so happy and when you speak to me you speak in my language, and I just. I.” He took a deep breath. “Stay. Stay the night. Please.”
Estonia hesitated for only a moment. “Okay,” he said, brushing a kiss over Finland’s cheek. “Okay. I’ll st-“ His words were cut off by the press of soft lips to his mouth. He gave in to the gesture without protesting. It was all right. It was more than all right.
The rest of that night was filled with wordless sighs drawn out by lips gliding over skin. Mouths met as fingers traced paths they had not wandered in centuries, making shoulders tremble and calloused hands bunch the white sheets. As they recalled the words to that old song they had not sung since the days of wind and firelight, they knew there would be no awkward moments when the dawn arrived. This was something they had shared once before, always remembered, never forgotten.
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