Appreciation [3/5]
anonymous
February 7 2009, 04:00:00 UTC
Against all sanity, everything he had thought he knew about himself, Estonia realized he was nodding, that Lithuania's hands were coming up to his shoulders, one pressing gently while the other slid in to cup his cheek, and then there was wet heat against his mouth as another pair of lips found his own. For a moment Estonia thought he had melted, simply dissolved into molten liquid with no form or consciousness, and Lithuania's voice was a faraway pull, tugging him back to reality.
“-stonia? Estonia, are you all right?”
“F-fine,” whimpered Estonia, realizing that the heat was gone (of course, since Lithuania was speaking to him), though he was still cradled in a tender half-embrace. “I'm sorry, I haven't - I haven't really...you know...” he finished lamely.
“Oh. Oh, right.” Lithuania nodded, embarrassed almost as much as Estonia himself felt. “You were just - you were shaking, and I wasn't sure if - ”
“Could you do it again?” interrupted Estonia (though rather politely). And Lithuania laughed, and he did.
This time the kiss was slower but somehow much deeper, and Estonia realized that he was being gently pressed back onto the bed, and there was more heat than just at the junction of their mouths: everywhere Lithuania's body touched his, no matter how lightly, was ablaze as though his nerves were raw with fever. Teeth grazed his lip - not biting, exactly, and not painful at all - and Estonia moaned, reaching up to encircle his brother's waist, needing more of the solid, stable weight against him that made his skin burn. Instead, Lithuania drew back, stroked a few strands of Estonia's hair aside. Estonia made a keening noise that he was not entirely aware of as the impossibly cold air rushed in between them, but Lithuania was saying something, so he tried to focus on that, instead.
“You really have no idea,” Lithuania sighed. “Estonia, you are so beautiful. I can't - I can't describe it.”
“I'm not - ” mumbled Estonia half-heartedly, but the soft pad of a thumb drew across his lower lip and silenced him.
“You are,” insisted Lithuania, and he leaned back down to kiss Estonia's neck. “I wouldn't lie to you. I swear it,” he breathed between kisses, and Estonia writhed beneath him, clutching the back of his brother's uniform in white-knuckled hands.
It took Estonia a moment to realize that Lithuania had slid off the bed, but as soon as it sunk in, he sat up, head still spinning, and glanced around the room. Rather than making an escape to the door, as Estonia had expected, Lithuania was crouched in front of him, between his legs where they dangled over the side of the mattress. The older nation looked up, but from this distance his expression was completely lost to Estonia, who could only see the vague shapes of hands running up and down his legs. He could feel everything, though, the almost ticklingly vague pressure of fingertips against his skin through the coarse material of his uniform, the way Lithuania's palms flattened purposefully against Estonia's inner thigh, fingertips creeping inward, upward. Estonia stifled a cry as heat enveloped his most private of places, warm hands stroking gently back and forth.
“L-Lithuania - ” he managed to gasp, but only that before he heard the unzipping of his uniform and sensation overcame him.
“-stonia? Estonia, are you all right?”
“F-fine,” whimpered Estonia, realizing that the heat was gone (of course, since Lithuania was speaking to him), though he was still cradled in a tender half-embrace. “I'm sorry, I haven't - I haven't really...you know...” he finished lamely.
“Oh. Oh, right.” Lithuania nodded, embarrassed almost as much as Estonia himself felt. “You were just - you were shaking, and I wasn't sure if - ”
“Could you do it again?” interrupted Estonia (though rather politely). And Lithuania laughed, and he did.
This time the kiss was slower but somehow much deeper, and Estonia realized that he was being gently pressed back onto the bed, and there was more heat than just at the junction of their mouths: everywhere Lithuania's body touched his, no matter how lightly, was ablaze as though his nerves were raw with fever. Teeth grazed his lip - not biting, exactly, and not painful at all - and Estonia moaned, reaching up to encircle his brother's waist, needing more of the solid, stable weight against him that made his skin burn. Instead, Lithuania drew back, stroked a few strands of Estonia's hair aside. Estonia made a keening noise that he was not entirely aware of as the impossibly cold air rushed in between them, but Lithuania was saying something, so he tried to focus on that, instead.
“You really have no idea,” Lithuania sighed. “Estonia, you are so beautiful. I can't - I can't describe it.”
“I'm not - ” mumbled Estonia half-heartedly, but the soft pad of a thumb drew across his lower lip and silenced him.
“You are,” insisted Lithuania, and he leaned back down to kiss Estonia's neck. “I wouldn't lie to you. I swear it,” he breathed between kisses, and Estonia writhed beneath him, clutching the back of his brother's uniform in white-knuckled hands.
It took Estonia a moment to realize that Lithuania had slid off the bed, but as soon as it sunk in, he sat up, head still spinning, and glanced around the room. Rather than making an escape to the door, as Estonia had expected, Lithuania was crouched in front of him, between his legs where they dangled over the side of the mattress. The older nation looked up, but from this distance his expression was completely lost to Estonia, who could only see the vague shapes of hands running up and down his legs. He could feel everything, though, the almost ticklingly vague pressure of fingertips against his skin through the coarse material of his uniform, the way Lithuania's palms flattened purposefully against Estonia's inner thigh, fingertips creeping inward, upward. Estonia stifled a cry as heat enveloped his most private of places, warm hands stroking gently back and forth.
“L-Lithuania - ” he managed to gasp, but only that before he heard the unzipping of his uniform and sensation overcame him.
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