Appreciation [4/5]
anonymous
February 7 2009, 04:05:24 UTC
anon failed so completely on HTML in this segment (though the previous one is FUBAR, too ;_;), as well as properly titling it, that she's reposting this entirely. I AM SO SORRY, GAIZ D:
This felt almost exactly like the kiss had - the same moist heat and tender pressing of skin against skin - but it was a thousand times moreso, and he whimpered and writhed with the intensity of it. He thought maybe he felt Lithuania smile, though it was impossible to tell, half-blind without his glasses and drugged with emotion and staring down at the fuzzy dark shape of Lithuania's head moving rhythmically back and forth, slow and deliberate.
Unbearably, gloriously hot, Lithuania enveloped Estonia with a sense of perfect serenity and a feeling of home, even though the small, still-functioning rational part of his mind knew that he should be panicking or at least feeling slightly afraid of such a strange, unimaginable sensation. Instead it felt familiar, in an indescribable way: this was the same Lithuania who had so tenderly dressed all of Estonia's childhood injuries, who had rubbed his back in the night when he had nightmares, even as a young man who should have been long past such things (and Lithuania never teased him for it, never showed any sign of disapproval or reproval or annoyance or anything but love), and somehow just as Lithuania was the same, his touch was the same, calming and loving and unconditional, and suddenly Estonia felt himself beginning to cry again, silently. It was entirely a different emotion, and he let it flow over him, his body shaking with it - or with something else, he wasn't sure - and Lithuania, interpreting it as the latter, was stroking his thigh and hip to steady him and moving ever so slightly faster, and when the world exploded Estonia was surprised to find that the always-worried part of himself didn't even care if it took him and everything else with it.
He and Lithuania were still there, though, when he opened his eyes to see that familiar face hovering near his own, mouth puffy even without being distorted by Estonia's poor vision and eyes ever-so-slightly concerned. “I'm fine,” he whispered, and Lithuania nodded and ran a hand over the other nation's cheek. “Are you - I mean, it doesn't bother you that - ?”
The eldest Baltic smiled with his voice as much as his mouth when he laughed and said, “I love you, Estonia. That was for you, and it doesn't bother me at all. I wouldn't lie to you,” he added, and Estonia knew that it was the truth.
“Thank you.”
“Don't hate any part of yourself,” pleaded Lithuania. “You're perfect, all of you. Right down,” he whispered, leaning in to peck Estonia's cheek softly, “to the very last,” and he kissed the other, “freckle.”
This felt almost exactly like the kiss had - the same moist heat and tender pressing of skin against skin - but it was a thousand times moreso, and he whimpered and writhed with the intensity of it. He thought maybe he felt Lithuania smile, though it was impossible to tell, half-blind without his glasses and drugged with emotion and staring down at the fuzzy dark shape of Lithuania's head moving rhythmically back and forth, slow and deliberate.
Unbearably, gloriously hot, Lithuania enveloped Estonia with a sense of perfect serenity and a feeling of home, even though the small, still-functioning rational part of his mind knew that he should be panicking or at least feeling slightly afraid of such a strange, unimaginable sensation. Instead it felt familiar, in an indescribable way: this was the same Lithuania who had so tenderly dressed all of Estonia's childhood injuries, who had rubbed his back in the night when he had nightmares, even as a young man who should have been long past such things (and Lithuania never teased him for it, never showed any sign of disapproval or reproval or annoyance or anything but love), and somehow just as Lithuania was the same, his touch was the same, calming and loving and unconditional, and suddenly Estonia felt himself beginning to cry again, silently. It was entirely a different emotion, and he let it flow over him, his body shaking with it - or with something else, he wasn't sure - and Lithuania, interpreting it as the latter, was stroking his thigh and hip to steady him and moving ever so slightly faster, and when the world exploded Estonia was surprised to find that the always-worried part of himself didn't even care if it took him and everything else with it.
He and Lithuania were still there, though, when he opened his eyes to see that familiar face hovering near his own, mouth puffy even without being distorted by Estonia's poor vision and eyes ever-so-slightly concerned. “I'm fine,” he whispered, and Lithuania nodded and ran a hand over the other nation's cheek. “Are you - I mean, it doesn't bother you that - ?”
The eldest Baltic smiled with his voice as much as his mouth when he laughed and said, “I love you, Estonia. That was for you, and it doesn't bother me at all. I wouldn't lie to you,” he added, and Estonia knew that it was the truth.
“Thank you.”
“Don't hate any part of yourself,” pleaded Lithuania. “You're perfect, all of you. Right down,” he whispered, leaning in to peck Estonia's cheek softly, “to the very last,” and he kissed the other, “freckle.”
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