Ever the Same [LietPolLiet] [4/?]
anonymous
August 25 2009, 17:58:10 UTC
Lithuania's fingers mimicked Poland's, unfastening buttons, seeking more of that smooth, pale skin, brushing against places that made Poland gasp and whine into the kiss, arching his body into the touch. The effect of that reaction on Lithuania was instantaneous; he felt his blood rush all of a sudden, racing to get up to his face and down someplace else entirely. And while kissing Poland, being held by him, being near him, had been more than enough to make him happy a moment ago, now Lithuania wanted -- needed -- more. Needed to be closer, so close that nothing could be between them... His fingertips dug into Poland's hips as he tried to keep such thoughts from getting out of control.
Naturally, Poland wasn't going to have that. Heaven forbid that he let something be under control and normal for once, Lithuania would have thought, if his mind hadn't been far too preoccupied with other thoughts entirely from the moment when Poland broke the kiss, smiled up at him tenderly, and suggested (demanded, really; Poland had never quite gotten the hang of suggestions) that Lithuania like, totally take him right there.
It was dangerous. There was still a battle raging outside, and they could be discovered, and it wasn't as though they'd come to the battlefield prepared for this sort of thing, but Lithuania found himself quite powerless to say "no" to Poland's hopeful little smile and the slightly-too-thin arms wrapped around him.
Dammit. He wondered if Poland knew he was doing that, the thing with the smile; probably not. Poland was mischievous and willful, but typically quite straightforward about it.
Instead of voicing his assent, Lithuania reached up to slide Poland's shirt down over his shoulders, trailing soft, wet kisses downwards from the curve of Poland's neck. Poland smiled, closing his eyes and threading his fingers through Lithuania's hair.
"Liet," he sighed, saying the name like a prayer of thanksgiving. Again, catlike, he arched his body towards Lithuania, trying to make the most of every little touch. From memories far enough off to be dreams, Lithuania's lips and fingers had clearly remembered how Poland liked to be touched. They'd barely done a thing and already they were driving him mad.
He leaned his head back against the wall and opened his eyes. Part of the roof had collapsed, and he could see the sky darkening, shot with strands of pink and gold. He wasn't sure if the gunfire was actually beginning to fade, or if he was too wrapped up in Liet's attention to care.
Lithuania paused, his hands trembling slightly at the waist of Poland's trousers. The blond looked down, already to see him looking up, asking permission with his eyes. Permission... When had either of them needed a thing like that?
Poland smiled, touching Liet's cheek tenderly as he resolved to punch that Soviet sonofabitch in the face the next time he saw him. "Like, go for it. Go wild. I totally told you already, didn't I?" He slid his fingers underneath Lithuania's chin, led him up into a warm kiss. "I'm all yours. Seriously."
As Lithuania kissed him and fumbled blindly with his belt, Poland figured he'd return the favor. They slid away green fabric, too thick for the August heat in the first place, kicked away boots and socks until they finally lay bare.
Stripped of their uniforms, they weren't soldiers anymore. No longer were they enemies, or nations, or even men... just lovers. That was all.
Naturally, Poland wasn't going to have that. Heaven forbid that he let something be under control and normal for once, Lithuania would have thought, if his mind hadn't been far too preoccupied with other thoughts entirely from the moment when Poland broke the kiss, smiled up at him tenderly, and suggested (demanded, really; Poland had never quite gotten the hang of suggestions) that Lithuania like, totally take him right there.
It was dangerous. There was still a battle raging outside, and they could be discovered, and it wasn't as though they'd come to the battlefield prepared for this sort of thing, but Lithuania found himself quite powerless to say "no" to Poland's hopeful little smile and the slightly-too-thin arms wrapped around him.
Dammit. He wondered if Poland knew he was doing that, the thing with the smile; probably not. Poland was mischievous and willful, but typically quite straightforward about it.
Instead of voicing his assent, Lithuania reached up to slide Poland's shirt down over his shoulders, trailing soft, wet kisses downwards from the curve of Poland's neck. Poland smiled, closing his eyes and threading his fingers through Lithuania's hair.
"Liet," he sighed, saying the name like a prayer of thanksgiving. Again, catlike, he arched his body towards Lithuania, trying to make the most of every little touch. From memories far enough off to be dreams, Lithuania's lips and fingers had clearly remembered how Poland liked to be touched. They'd barely done a thing and already they were driving him mad.
He leaned his head back against the wall and opened his eyes. Part of the roof had collapsed, and he could see the sky darkening, shot with strands of pink and gold. He wasn't sure if the gunfire was actually beginning to fade, or if he was too wrapped up in Liet's attention to care.
Lithuania paused, his hands trembling slightly at the waist of Poland's trousers. The blond looked down, already to see him looking up, asking permission with his eyes. Permission... When had either of them needed a thing like that?
Poland smiled, touching Liet's cheek tenderly as he resolved to punch that Soviet sonofabitch in the face the next time he saw him. "Like, go for it. Go wild. I totally told you already, didn't I?" He slid his fingers underneath Lithuania's chin, led him up into a warm kiss. "I'm all yours. Seriously."
As Lithuania kissed him and fumbled blindly with his belt, Poland figured he'd return the favor. They slid away green fabric, too thick for the August heat in the first place, kicked away boots and socks until they finally lay bare.
Stripped of their uniforms, they weren't soldiers anymore. No longer were they enemies, or nations, or even men... just lovers. That was all.
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