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Entry tags:
Hot Summer Nights [Germany/Sweden]
Title: Hot Summer Nights
Characters/Pairing: Germany/Sweden
Rating: 15+
Length: 441
Summary: Sometimes, they enjoy one another's company.
Other: Written for some anons from the APH anon meme and posted in my sketchjournal. (Original post)
Hot Summer Nights
The evening was warm. Too warm.
When Sweden had invited Germany to spend the weekend with him, neither of them had predicted the heat. Still, it came, the first summer’s waves, bringing discomfort to those who had become unaccustomed to warmth during the winter.
They took it in stride. The early mornings were a boon to them, the chill of the night still lingering; they woke before the dew had dried and spent their time together. It was in the evenings, when the heat lingered and neither could sleep, that they both found their difficulties. Nor did their activities aid in sleeping – though neither was inclined to complain. They certainly enjoyed one another’s company.
Company. A pleasant weekend spent with a friend. That was how they always referred to it, and while it was not untrue, their carefully-chosen words did not reflect the entire situation. A nice visit, indeed.
The window open to the evening’s breeze did nothing to combat the lingering remnants of the day’s heat, made warmer by the press of skin against skin. Too warm. Sticky. Somehow not unpleasant.
Sweat beaded on Sweden’s brow. Lips trailed over neck, muscled shoulders, back. Slowly. Brushing. He listened to the hitches of breath, the occasional murmur into white sheets. Reassuring sounds that he had, in time, become accustomed to hearing.
He readied him, slick, waited for him to relax beneath him. There would be more, and they were in no hurry, the heat rendering them both even slower than usual, their pace more leisurely.
After a time Sweden shifted to nuzzle by Germany’s ear. Scent of sweat and hair gel. A kiss, a nip to the earlobe, before he muttered the question: “’S all right, then?”
A quick breath. “Yes.” Sighing, and he was at ease, and there was no more question of it, because the answer was clear. “Go on.”
Slowly. Slowly. Attending to detail, but at east all the same, accustomed to the actions, the gestures. In time they were moving, a slow, easy rhythm, keeping time with one another. Hissed breath, hands bunching sheets, quiet words that were not words but served the purpose, communicating appreciation and demands that sounded more like requests: go on, more, go on. They went on until they both were brought over.
Warm breezes blowing, quick breaths as they came down. Heat and sweat and the sound of crickets chirping outside the window. Lingering.
Soon they would rise, throw themselves into a cold shower, change the sheets. Perhaps they would dress again, go out into the warm night, walk together in the dim light.
For the moment, however, they were content to stay.
Characters/Pairing: Germany/Sweden
Rating: 15+
Length: 441
Summary: Sometimes, they enjoy one another's company.
Other: Written for some anons from the APH anon meme and posted in my sketchjournal. (Original post)
Hot Summer Nights
The evening was warm. Too warm.
When Sweden had invited Germany to spend the weekend with him, neither of them had predicted the heat. Still, it came, the first summer’s waves, bringing discomfort to those who had become unaccustomed to warmth during the winter.
They took it in stride. The early mornings were a boon to them, the chill of the night still lingering; they woke before the dew had dried and spent their time together. It was in the evenings, when the heat lingered and neither could sleep, that they both found their difficulties. Nor did their activities aid in sleeping – though neither was inclined to complain. They certainly enjoyed one another’s company.
Company. A pleasant weekend spent with a friend. That was how they always referred to it, and while it was not untrue, their carefully-chosen words did not reflect the entire situation. A nice visit, indeed.
The window open to the evening’s breeze did nothing to combat the lingering remnants of the day’s heat, made warmer by the press of skin against skin. Too warm. Sticky. Somehow not unpleasant.
Sweat beaded on Sweden’s brow. Lips trailed over neck, muscled shoulders, back. Slowly. Brushing. He listened to the hitches of breath, the occasional murmur into white sheets. Reassuring sounds that he had, in time, become accustomed to hearing.
He readied him, slick, waited for him to relax beneath him. There would be more, and they were in no hurry, the heat rendering them both even slower than usual, their pace more leisurely.
After a time Sweden shifted to nuzzle by Germany’s ear. Scent of sweat and hair gel. A kiss, a nip to the earlobe, before he muttered the question: “’S all right, then?”
A quick breath. “Yes.” Sighing, and he was at ease, and there was no more question of it, because the answer was clear. “Go on.”
Slowly. Slowly. Attending to detail, but at east all the same, accustomed to the actions, the gestures. In time they were moving, a slow, easy rhythm, keeping time with one another. Hissed breath, hands bunching sheets, quiet words that were not words but served the purpose, communicating appreciation and demands that sounded more like requests: go on, more, go on. They went on until they both were brought over.
Warm breezes blowing, quick breaths as they came down. Heat and sweat and the sound of crickets chirping outside the window. Lingering.
Soon they would rise, throw themselves into a cold shower, change the sheets. Perhaps they would dress again, go out into the warm night, walk together in the dim light.
For the moment, however, they were content to stay.