Worth Letting Food Get Cold 3/?
anonymous
April 2 2010, 01:05:53 UTC
Poland broke off mid-sentence and stood up from the table. “I-I’m, like, gonna go get something, okay?”
Lithuania glanced at him curiously. “I’ll be done with the borsht in five seconds, Poland.”
“Yeah, but, like, I’ll be so fast that it will be like I teleported or something.”
Lithuania shrugged, and Poland darted out of the kitchen.
By the time he returned, Lithuania was wrapping the last half-used cucumber in saran wrap. At the sound of Poland’s approaching footsteps, he glanced up with a smile. “That was fast,” he said, pulling open the refrigerator. “I’m done now - why don’t you grab a pair of bowls?” He dropped the cucumber in the fridge and closed the door.
But Poland just smirked, and rather than turning towards the cabinets, he strode over to Lithuania.
“Po-?” Lithuania began uncertainly, but before he could say anything else, Poland had sealed their lips together. At first Lithuania stiffened slightly in surprise and tried to draw away, but as Poland’s arms came around his neck, he slowly began to return the kiss.
“Mmm, Liet,” Poland sighed against his lips, taking Lithuania’s hand and pressing it against his own hip. He pressed his body closer, and Lithuania let out a soft grunt as his back rubbed against the counter.
Poland parted his lips and flicked his tongue over Lithuania’s mouth - and immediately, Lithuania pulled back, pushing firmly on Poland’s shoulders. “P-Poland!” he gasped. “You want to do this now?”
“Mm-hmm. Like, why not?”
“I just finished the borsht, Poland - it will get cold!”
“So?” Poland leaned forwards and pressed a featherlike kiss to Lithuania’s jaw. “You like your borsht cold, don’t you?”
Poland’s tongue brushed against Lithuania’s skin, and Lithuania let out a hiss. “B-but you don’t . . . ,” he muttered.
Poland giggled against Lithuania’s collarbone. “I think this is totally worth it.”
“Well - but -,”
“God, Liet! Stop being a total prude!” Poland hissed, pulling back to glare - pout, actually - at Lithuania.
Lithuania grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.” Haltingly, he wrapped his arms around Poland’s waist and pulled back against his body. Poland smirked, arching an eyebrow impatiently, and then Lithuania was kissing him, softly but nonetheless passionately as he stole back the kisses Poland had taken from him.
Lithuania glanced at him curiously. “I’ll be done with the borsht in five seconds, Poland.”
“Yeah, but, like, I’ll be so fast that it will be like I teleported or something.”
Lithuania shrugged, and Poland darted out of the kitchen.
By the time he returned, Lithuania was wrapping the last half-used cucumber in saran wrap. At the sound of Poland’s approaching footsteps, he glanced up with a smile. “That was fast,” he said, pulling open the refrigerator. “I’m done now - why don’t you grab a pair of bowls?” He dropped the cucumber in the fridge and closed the door.
But Poland just smirked, and rather than turning towards the cabinets, he strode over to Lithuania.
“Po-?” Lithuania began uncertainly, but before he could say anything else, Poland had sealed their lips together. At first Lithuania stiffened slightly in surprise and tried to draw away, but as Poland’s arms came around his neck, he slowly began to return the kiss.
“Mmm, Liet,” Poland sighed against his lips, taking Lithuania’s hand and pressing it against his own hip. He pressed his body closer, and Lithuania let out a soft grunt as his back rubbed against the counter.
Poland parted his lips and flicked his tongue over Lithuania’s mouth - and immediately, Lithuania pulled back, pushing firmly on Poland’s shoulders. “P-Poland!” he gasped. “You want to do this now?”
“Mm-hmm. Like, why not?”
“I just finished the borsht, Poland - it will get cold!”
“So?” Poland leaned forwards and pressed a featherlike kiss to Lithuania’s jaw. “You like your borsht cold, don’t you?”
Poland’s tongue brushed against Lithuania’s skin, and Lithuania let out a hiss. “B-but you don’t . . . ,” he muttered.
Poland giggled against Lithuania’s collarbone. “I think this is totally worth it.”
“Well - but -,”
“God, Liet! Stop being a total prude!” Poland hissed, pulling back to glare - pout, actually - at Lithuania.
Lithuania grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.” Haltingly, he wrapped his arms around Poland’s waist and pulled back against his body. Poland smirked, arching an eyebrow impatiently, and then Lithuania was kissing him, softly but nonetheless passionately as he stole back the kisses Poland had taken from him.
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