Relax & Enjoy the Ride 1/2
anonymous
March 6 2010, 09:59:47 UTC
Sorry if this isn't what OP!anon wanted. The characters are a bit OOC & the setting/time is very, very unaccurate (historically speaking). The ending was very rushed because I felt sleepy...
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His smile was soft, Denmark noticed. There's no way anyone else could tell he was really smiling, except maybe for Iceland, or if whether any his smiles were real or not (Norway actually bothered to smile out of courtesy during world meetings if he wasn't too annoyed). The smile caused Denmark's heart to flip, as he wondered whether his long absence at battle had anything to do with Norway's unusually kind treatment, rather than the usual, "Anko is so annoying." He wanted to stare at Norway’s flawless smiling face longer, but to his dismay Norway became conscious of his own smile and averted his eyes and resumed his normal look, trying to look ordinarily blank, despite the blush creeping across his soft cheeks.
“Is it good?” Norway asked emotionlessly, staring down at the food he made for Denmark. He didn’t look at the tall Nordic, but he felt they were far apart at each ends of the table.
Denmark put down his glass of wine, grinning brightly. “That’s a stupid question Nor, of course it’s good! Aren’t you the one who cooked it?”
His instant reaction was to look back down at his own food, hiding his soft smile as he listened to Denmark’s babbling and munching. He couldn’t help but shiver - it was late, Iceland was asleep, and Denmark hadn’t been back for weeks. Nor couldn’t register exactly why the latter mattered much, but his body shake in anxiety and his heart race when he received the letter notifying Denmark’s return. He could easily take care of Iceland by himself (not that Iceland needed much care), but he couldn’t help but feel their home was a little colder than usual without the big oaf-
“Hey,” a voice interrupted, “are you finished?”
Norway looked up, locking eyes with his so-called brother’s. He shoved it to Denmark as he stood up.
“Don’t get up,” Denmark laughed. “You probably did all of the housework while I was gone. Let me do the dishes at least!”
But Norway wouldn’t reply, simply walking up to the sink with him.
Denmark scratched the back of his head after roughly placing the dishes down. “Okay, I guess we’ll do this together?”
A soft brush and rustling could be heard as Denmark rolled up his sleeves, revealing cuts and bruises along his toned arms. Norway stared at them intently as the built warrior hummed energetically while soaping the dishes. The rushing water of the faucet could be heard throughout the kitchen. The Norwegian felt that familiar feeling, that feeling he felt during Denmark’s absence - something cold, tugging at his heart. He threw the feeling away, feeling determined to feel the same warmth and elation Denmark would give him, as he turned off the faucet, stopping the cold water. Denmark gazed down, confused as small hands touched the scars and cuts along his arm.
“Nor…”
Norway pulled him down to the cold kitchen floor, leaving him to sprawl on his back, having his abdomen and chest exposed as Norway tossed off his shirt. Denmark lifted his head, watching with fascination and desire as Norway slowly traced his larger scars with small, cold hands, followed by a burning, hot tongue. He winced as Norway massaged the largest wound, covered in bandages, but concentrated more of Norway hovering over him, lathering him with wet kisses about his neck.
“Anko,” Norway breathed, leaving his body radiating with leftover heat.
---
His smile was soft, Denmark noticed. There's no way anyone else could tell he was really smiling, except maybe for Iceland, or if whether any his smiles were real or not (Norway actually bothered to smile out of courtesy during world meetings if he wasn't too annoyed). The smile caused Denmark's heart to flip, as he wondered whether his long absence at battle had anything to do with Norway's unusually kind treatment, rather than the usual, "Anko is so annoying." He wanted to stare at Norway’s flawless smiling face longer, but to his dismay Norway became conscious of his own smile and averted his eyes and resumed his normal look, trying to look ordinarily blank, despite the blush creeping across his soft cheeks.
“Is it good?” Norway asked emotionlessly, staring down at the food he made for Denmark. He didn’t look at the tall Nordic, but he felt they were far apart at each ends of the table.
Denmark put down his glass of wine, grinning brightly. “That’s a stupid question Nor, of course it’s good! Aren’t you the one who cooked it?”
His instant reaction was to look back down at his own food, hiding his soft smile as he listened to Denmark’s babbling and munching. He couldn’t help but shiver - it was late, Iceland was asleep, and Denmark hadn’t been back for weeks. Nor couldn’t register exactly why the latter mattered much, but his body shake in anxiety and his heart race when he received the letter notifying Denmark’s return. He could easily take care of Iceland by himself (not that Iceland needed much care), but he couldn’t help but feel their home was a little colder than usual without the big oaf-
“Hey,” a voice interrupted, “are you finished?”
Norway looked up, locking eyes with his so-called brother’s. He shoved it to Denmark as he stood up.
“Don’t get up,” Denmark laughed. “You probably did all of the housework while I was gone. Let me do the dishes at least!”
But Norway wouldn’t reply, simply walking up to the sink with him.
Denmark scratched the back of his head after roughly placing the dishes down. “Okay, I guess we’ll do this together?”
A soft brush and rustling could be heard as Denmark rolled up his sleeves, revealing cuts and bruises along his toned arms. Norway stared at them intently as the built warrior hummed energetically while soaping the dishes. The rushing water of the faucet could be heard throughout the kitchen. The Norwegian felt that familiar feeling, that feeling he felt during Denmark’s absence - something cold, tugging at his heart. He threw the feeling away, feeling determined to feel the same warmth and elation Denmark would give him, as he turned off the faucet, stopping the cold water. Denmark gazed down, confused as small hands touched the scars and cuts along his arm.
“Nor…”
Norway pulled him down to the cold kitchen floor, leaving him to sprawl on his back, having his abdomen and chest exposed as Norway tossed off his shirt. Denmark lifted his head, watching with fascination and desire as Norway slowly traced his larger scars with small, cold hands, followed by a burning, hot tongue. He winced as Norway massaged the largest wound, covered in bandages, but concentrated more of Norway hovering over him, lathering him with wet kisses about his neck.
“Anko,” Norway breathed, leaving his body radiating with leftover heat.
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