Driving it home [Denmark/Finland]
Jun. 2nd, 2009 07:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Driving it home
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Finland, background Sweden/Finland
Rating: 18+ for violence and consent issues.
Length: 330
Summary: Prompt was "Denmark/Finland, taking out his anger at Sweden on the "wife."".
Other: Response to a ficlet request thread at the APH anon meme. (Original post)
Driving it home
The blow sent Finland flying. He hit the wall with a gasp, the impact sending the air rushing out of his lungs. For a second he remained there, dazed, before he collected himself and darted away. Get away from the wall, he thought. Don’t let him trap you.
They circled each other. Finland was quick, but Denmark was larger, big as a tree and determined. He lunged forward, a wolf’s grin on his face, and Finland just barely managed to dart away, cursing as he realized just how short the distance between the two of them had become.
The door, he thought hurriedly. The door. By all the gods, where was the god damned door. Finland’s mind raced. Denmark was approaching far too quickly, and Finland found himself backing away. He stepped back into a table and stumbled, tumbling over the furniture. He hit the floor painfully and before he could rise Denmark was on top of him.
The blows fell, pounding him like heavy rain. Finland snarled in anger and frustration and tried to return every one, but it was no good; in a matter of moments, Denmark had grabbed him, then kept going. Another blow. Another. There was a sickening crack and Finland cried out in pain.
After that the blows ceased. Denmark smirked and pinned Finland’s wrists to the floor above his head, holding both of them tightly in one large, calloused hand. He straddled him, then with his free hand gripped Finland’s chin, holding his head steady as he leaned in to speak, his voice a low growl. “Thinks he can break away, yeah?” When Finland narrowed his eyes, Denmark’s smirk broadened into a grin. “Well. Maybe this’ll help drive home th’ message. Eh, Fin?”
Finland gritted his teeth and decided that, tempting though it was, spitting in Denmark’s face would not be wise. “Go to hell,” he hissed. Much to his frustration, Denmark only laughed in response.
“Won’t,” he said cheerfully, before silencing Finland’s protesting with a hard, rough-lipped kiss.
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Finland, background Sweden/Finland
Rating: 18+ for violence and consent issues.
Length: 330
Summary: Prompt was "Denmark/Finland, taking out his anger at Sweden on the "wife."".
Other: Response to a ficlet request thread at the APH anon meme. (Original post)
Driving it home
The blow sent Finland flying. He hit the wall with a gasp, the impact sending the air rushing out of his lungs. For a second he remained there, dazed, before he collected himself and darted away. Get away from the wall, he thought. Don’t let him trap you.
They circled each other. Finland was quick, but Denmark was larger, big as a tree and determined. He lunged forward, a wolf’s grin on his face, and Finland just barely managed to dart away, cursing as he realized just how short the distance between the two of them had become.
The door, he thought hurriedly. The door. By all the gods, where was the god damned door. Finland’s mind raced. Denmark was approaching far too quickly, and Finland found himself backing away. He stepped back into a table and stumbled, tumbling over the furniture. He hit the floor painfully and before he could rise Denmark was on top of him.
The blows fell, pounding him like heavy rain. Finland snarled in anger and frustration and tried to return every one, but it was no good; in a matter of moments, Denmark had grabbed him, then kept going. Another blow. Another. There was a sickening crack and Finland cried out in pain.
After that the blows ceased. Denmark smirked and pinned Finland’s wrists to the floor above his head, holding both of them tightly in one large, calloused hand. He straddled him, then with his free hand gripped Finland’s chin, holding his head steady as he leaned in to speak, his voice a low growl. “Thinks he can break away, yeah?” When Finland narrowed his eyes, Denmark’s smirk broadened into a grin. “Well. Maybe this’ll help drive home th’ message. Eh, Fin?”
Finland gritted his teeth and decided that, tempting though it was, spitting in Denmark’s face would not be wise. “Go to hell,” he hissed. Much to his frustration, Denmark only laughed in response.
“Won’t,” he said cheerfully, before silencing Finland’s protesting with a hard, rough-lipped kiss.
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