[fic] Hot as a Smoking Gun (2/3)
Series: Hetalia
Title: Hot as a Smoking Gun
Pairing: Switzerland/Belarus (I'm cheating on my fav Yuri pair with the one's surrogate brother. T_T But I'm strangely proud of this fic...)
Genre: Romance
Rating: M
Warnings: Lemon (Oral and Weapon's Kink (Gunplay, Knifeplay, Bloodplay, and some interesting uses for bullets and weapon attachments.)
Summary: De-anoning an old fic from hetalia_kink.
Quoting the Original Request: Switzerland/Belarus - gunplay, knifeplay, bloodplay, romance
Exactly what it says on the tin. At first Belarus and Switzerland hook up because 1. they can't get the people they really want (Russia and Austria/Liechtenstein/Belgium whoever, respectively) and 2. because they both like extreme weapons kink. It starts out totally impersonal/no strings attached/no emotions from either of them, but as they spend more time together they realize they actually have a lot in common.
BONUS if once Switzerland hops on the clue bus, he (stoically) woos Belarus with pretty straitlaced, traditional romantic gestures.
DOUBLE BONUS for white roses.
Splotches of red decorated pale white skin. Leopard spots of smeared blood. Belarus was lounging in his bed, studying his work with a mixture of amusement and arousal. Switzerland pricked another spot on her arm, watching as her eyes fluttered - a brief flash of pain followed by a flush of warmth. He waited for the drop of red to swell to the surface of her skin, before reaching out to press his thumb to the tiny cut, smearing the blood again. Belarus shivered, as the pressure gave a repeat of the sensations the knife had.
In the last few months, what they'd begun so suddenly had become habitual. At first only finding time for each other during the meetings, but later seeking each other out between. Before he probably could not have given precise instructions to the other nation's house, and now he was certain he could find his way blindfolded.
Another knick, another smudge. The cuts are shallow, most not bleeding beyond the first drops of blood he`s smeared. All the same, his thumb was stained with red when Belarus suddenly took ahold of the hand and brought it to her mouth. Warmth enveloped his thumb, the wet muscle of her tongue stroking and dancing around the digit. Switzerland`s breath caught in his throat at the sensation, and she met his gaze - eyes twinkling in something akin to victory.
His back hit the sheets as she pushed him down, taking the knife from him. She trailed it along his collarbone, not hard enough to cut, only to sensitize the skin. Her fingers then followed the same path, pressing slightly, causing a phantom feeling of the touch of the knife again. She trailed the knife down his arm next, but paused at his forearm. A flash of pain as the knife was pressured enough to cut was followed by a slight sting as her mouth descended on the shallow slice. Her tongue lathed the cut first, before her lips surrounded it, sucking the blood from the wound.
It was pleasure and pain at once - the feeling of her lips and slight tug on his skin combined with the sting of the blood being drawn from the cut. Switzerland let out a groan, and she released the arm slowly, turning to him. Her eyes were dark with lust as she straddled his thighs, lips tainted red. His hand threaded through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he drew her down for a kiss. Her mouth tasted of blood and the tang that was simply her, and he revealed in the combination. There was a clatter as the knife hit the floor and then her nails were digging into his arms, and she was pressing closer. The swell of her breasts firm against his chest, and he brought his free hand around to trail down her spine. She gasped into the kiss, body sliding against his, a mixture of smooth landscapes and pleasant curves that he was well on his way to memorizing.
She nipped at his tongue, and when he drew back, followed it with a bite to his lip. He gave a growl, rolling to pin her beneath him, and a pleased sigh was the response. He rubbed himself against her entrance, throbbing with the need to be inside her. She was wet with her own desire and they gasped as one in delight. Her legs tangled with his as he pressed inside, breath mere pants against the skin of her shoulder. She was hot and tight and for a moment he could only lay still, savoring the feeling.
Belarus shifted beneath him, lips brushing his ear as she spoke. "Move or I`ll take off your ear."
"You dropped the knife." He couldn`t help but taunt.
"I`ll use my teeth."
She bit into his lobe as if to stress the point, and he nipped at her shoulder in retaliation. But it was mere play, and they reconciled by moving. Gasps and moans filled the room as they thrust, slowly at first, but harder and faster before long. Foreplay having already thickened the desire between them close to desperation. The cry of her release was high and keening, and her body tightened around him - making it impossible to hold back his own release. His hips pumped several more times as he poured himself into her, shouting his own release into her neck. It was only as they lay entangled afterwards that he had time to wonder if he'd left her ear ringing from his cry. If he did, she seemed undisturbed by the fact, hands stroking his arms in lazy contentment.
It was the flash of red out of the corner of his eye that reminded him that laying in Belarus's arms until morning wasn't an option. He nuzzled her shoulder before he raised himself up, pulling out of her. Belarus gave another sigh, stretching, before she sat up. A bowl of warm water, once steaming, was on the bedside table. He soaked a washcloth in it briefly, twisting it to wring it out, before he turned back to her - holding out a hand.
Belarus gave him the same amused look as always, before laying her arm in his grasp. He ran the cloth over her arm, washing away the spots of blood and cleansing the tiny cuts he had left on her. He has been equal parts confused and concerned by her amusement at his insistence of caring for any wounds left by their weapon play. Even in a casual affair, he could not imagine being cold enough to allow wounds to go undressed. Yet the concept seemed alien to the other nation. He patted her arm dry before dressing each cut with antibiotic cream and a bandage.
He pressed a kiss to her wrist before he released her arm, and for a moment her eyes clouded. Then she sat up, reaching for a fresh cloth to dip in the bowl of water, and taking his own arm into her hands. His cut was slightly longer than the nicks he'd left on her, as well as slightly deeper. Still shallow, and he'd had far worse wounds from careless accidents than any she had given him.
"You're a strange one." Belarus murmured as she placed a bandage on his cut. And those words by then were also familiar. Her fingers traced the bandage, silent after the words, as if lost in her own thoughts.
His own thoughts wandered as he traced her features with his eyes. Because he'd begun to realize that moments with her were never shadowed by memories of anyone else. Even times with Liechtenstein often reminded him of Austria. But with Belarus no history was dragged up; no long ago memories plagued him. With her there was only her. But then, and his lips quirked in amusement at the thought, what memory of Austria or Liechtenstein could possibly be connected to his time with her?
"Tell me why your smiling." Belarus demanded suddenly.
His eyes refocused on her, startled by the interruption of his private thoughts. He considered what to answer, before settling on the simplest one. "I was thinking...I enjoy spending time with you."
Belarus studied him suspiciously. "And that is all?"
He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted again. But this time the voice came from downstairs.
"Big brother!"
His eyes widened, almost panicked. "Liechtenstein."
Belarus released his arm and they both stood, dragging on discarded clothes hastily. "I thought she was visiting someone."
"She was." Switzerland responded to Belarus's comment.
"Big brother! Are you home?" From the sound of her voice, she must have begun to climb the stairs.
Pants and tank on, Switzerland headed for the door. "Wait a few minutes until I get her back downstairs."
"Cover up your cut!" Came the sharp response.
With a curse he grabbed up his jacket, dragging it onto the bandaged arm before letting himself out of the room.
"Liechtenstein." He started down the stairs she was climbing up.
"Big brother, I've been calling."
"I didn't hear you right away." Switzerland excused, noting a basket at the foot of the stair. "I didn't expect you back tonight." He gestured for her to lead the way back downstairs.
"I was worried about leaving you alone. I brought dinner. It was very inexpensive." Liechtenstein hopped down the final step, grabbing up her basket.
"That's good. It's only..."
A door upstairs opened and closed, and Liechtenstein tilted her head, confused. "Do you have company?"
Switzerland coughed. "Yes, Belarus came to visit."
His surrogate sister peered around him at the other nation as she came downstairs. "Oh! Hello."
"Good evening." Belarus nodded.
"I didn't know we had company. Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I was just leaving." Belarus assured her.
"Oh, but it's good. You should stay." She looked to Switzerland for confirmation of her words.
Giving another cough, he turned to Belarus. "You are welcome to join us."
Belarus hesitated, still a few steps from the bottom of the staircase. She seemed surprised by the offer, and uncertain what to respond. "I suppose...only for dinner."
"I'll set the table!" Liechtenstein dashed off, full of excitement.
Switzerland hesitated as Belarus took the final steps down to the bottom level, then he held out his arm to her. A small smile curved Belarus's lips as she took the formal offer, resting her arm on his. "Next time, my house." She whispered, though she seemed more amused then put off.
Switzerland swallowed a smile of his own as he led her to the dining room.
They were at the shooting range when she realized she was in love with him. She`d just gotten her third bullseye; he`d only been on two - but it was his turn. Sinewy body held in perfect shooting form, face a mask of concentration. The shot was slightly to the left. She was drawn in anyhow; hands gliding close enough to the gun to feel the heat from the barrel through the leather gloves. Then moving backwards until her hands were finally resting on his own. She pressed her body to his, both of them standing rigidly at attention. They didn`t exchange words; so in synch that explanation was superfluous. They acted as one as they aimed and pulled the trigger. Bullseye.
It was as they basked in the glow of that triumph, smiling and laughing, that it struck her. She was in love with him. Probably had been for months now. And the day was at once brighter and darker. Because she was in lovelove - Love! But what could become of it? This had been meant to be casual. Physical attraction; lust; someone to be with because who they wanted couldn`t or wouldn`t be theirs. She wasn`t some foolish human woman, she told herself. She`d survived centuries of wars and conquests. She could survive this without making herself vulnerable.
Perhaps not feeling as certain with that fact than she believed, she headed home, but found herself outside Ukraine's front door instead. And realizing that not since the early weeks of her affair with Switzerland had she felt the need to find comfort in her sister's cooking and gentle presence.
She pawed more than knocked at the door, and it opened only a minute or two later. "Belarus." Ukraine's eyes were both understanding and disappointed. "Did brother block your passport again?"
Tempted to point out that it had only been one time, and most likely a misunderstanding, Belarus shook her head instead. "I came for supper."
Ukraine nodded, opening the door wider so she could enter and took her coat. "Brother doesn't hate you, you know that." She patted her shoulder gently. "You just make him nervous."
Not bothering to correct her assumption that Russia was what was bothering her, Belarus headed toward the dining room. "I'll set the table."
"It's because you come across so strong. Maybe you should try being a little bit gentler?" Ukraine's voice drifted in from the kitchen.
"He respects power." Belarus responded, wondering who she was referring to now. Russia, or Switzerland? He hadn't seemed to mind how she'd come onto him. Though it had definitely not been gentle in anyway.
For a brief moment she imagined axing down his door like she`d done to Russia`s once. He wouldn`t hide, she decided. He`d probably be standing on the other side with a gun. Maybe even a XCR Light 5.56 Semi-Auto Rifle or something similar. He`d look absolutely delicious and would probably make some sort of quip about sending her the bill for the door and then...then... She didn`t know what then.
What he`d do or say if she asked him for more. Would he say yes? Would he not be interested? Too in love with his beloved Liechtenstein and his memories of his younger years with Austria? Would he want to stop seeing her?
"Belarus?" Ukraine interrupted her thoughts. "Is something else bothering you?"
"No." Her response had been too hasty, and Ukraine had given her a suspicious look. "I don't want to think about problems tonight. Let's just eat."
"I'm here...if you want to talk."
"As ever." She replied simply, because it was true. And because she wouldn't say more. Didn't want to be told the two options she already knew were the best choices. Take the risk. Let him go. She couldn't bring herself to risk what she had with him for something more. And she didn't want to let him go, even though moving forward with this new knowledge would only hurt her more. As she curled up in her borrowed room in her sister`s house that evening, she felt like a coward for the first time in centuries.
He was walking with Liechtenstein down a street in Bern when he saw the roses. White as snow. But it wasn't snow and ice that came to mind, but pale skin and violet eyes and white blonde hair. He crossed over to them before he'd realized what he was doing.
"You should buy some for her."
For a moment he believed the words had merely been an echo of his own thoughts. Then he blinked and turned to Liechtenstein. "For who?"
"Don't they remind you of Belarus?" She blinked up at him. "You should invite her to dinner again."
"She was just visiting."
"Then you should invite her to dinner properly."
He coughed, and turned back to the roses. "That's really not something..." He trailed off, and as he stared at the flowers in front of him he was struck by the realization that he wanted to buy the flowers for Belarus.
"What's not something?" Liechtenstein's perplexed frown seemed to be the prick of his own subconscious trying to tell him something.
You didn't buy flowers for a casual lover. For an on again and off again affair. Except they'd been more on than off for months. They exchanged emails as causally as touches. And the time she had stayed for dinner...
"Why can't you invite her out to dinner?"
"It would complicate things." He turned away from the flowers, struggling with a thought trying to make itself known.
"What things?"
"Relations. Relations get complicated that way."
"But you already have relations with her."
Much closer relations than he should. Full of soft skin and heated kisses. Gentle touches, and touches of red blood.
"That's not the same thing."
"Then what is? You aren't making sense. Don't you like her?"
A wit as sharp her knife, a sureness of character that equaled the steady hands that held her gun. A wickedness, and a grief.
"I don't love..." And he'd frozen to a stop on a street corner, facing his surrogate sister who's startled look was fast becoming less startled and more excited.
"You love her?"
And that was when he realized it was true. Which was both startling and immensely relieving. As if acknowledging a truth he'd known but had danced around. "I'm in love with her."
"You should get her those flowers." Liechtenstein gestured back the way they'd come.
"And chocolates." Switzerland gave a nod, beginning to warm to the notion.
"If you're going to court her, you should ask her family. Ukraine is her sister, right?"
Ask her family. That made sense. He didn't see Ukraine saying no.
"And her brother is..."
Liechtenstein's face paled and he stared at her for a moment, before what she'd been saying sunk in. "Is Russia." Liechtenstein has been playing the part of his subconscious, but his mind seemed to have recovered enough to take it's role up again. It replayed the realization and added to it. Belarus's brother was Russia. Their romance was most likely doomed before it even began.
To Be Continued...
Annoying Author's Notes: There's an old "When You" joke from a fav site of mine. When you look up so much weaponry the government is tracking your ISP. Thanks to this fic, I can now apply it to myself.
Hm...yah, I think Switzerland may be overestimating the issues. And I just had too much fun letting Liechtenstein lead him to the realization, as well as Ukraine being Belarus's place to mope. Now they finally know how they feel, but don't know how or even if to tell the other. Stoic wooing, and at least one more smut scene coming next.
Title: Hot as a Smoking Gun
Pairing: Switzerland/Belarus (I'm cheating on my fav Yuri pair with the one's surrogate brother. T_T But I'm strangely proud of this fic...)
Genre: Romance
Rating: M
Warnings: Lemon (Oral and Weapon's Kink (Gunplay, Knifeplay, Bloodplay, and some interesting uses for bullets and weapon attachments.)
Summary: De-anoning an old fic from hetalia_kink.
Quoting the Original Request: Switzerland/Belarus - gunplay, knifeplay, bloodplay, romance
Exactly what it says on the tin. At first Belarus and Switzerland hook up because 1. they can't get the people they really want (Russia and Austria/Liechtenstein/Belgium whoever, respectively) and 2. because they both like extreme weapons kink. It starts out totally impersonal/no strings attached/no emotions from either of them, but as they spend more time together they realize they actually have a lot in common.
BONUS if once Switzerland hops on the clue bus, he (stoically) woos Belarus with pretty straitlaced, traditional romantic gestures.
DOUBLE BONUS for white roses.
Splotches of red decorated pale white skin. Leopard spots of smeared blood. Belarus was lounging in his bed, studying his work with a mixture of amusement and arousal. Switzerland pricked another spot on her arm, watching as her eyes fluttered - a brief flash of pain followed by a flush of warmth. He waited for the drop of red to swell to the surface of her skin, before reaching out to press his thumb to the tiny cut, smearing the blood again. Belarus shivered, as the pressure gave a repeat of the sensations the knife had.
In the last few months, what they'd begun so suddenly had become habitual. At first only finding time for each other during the meetings, but later seeking each other out between. Before he probably could not have given precise instructions to the other nation's house, and now he was certain he could find his way blindfolded.
Another knick, another smudge. The cuts are shallow, most not bleeding beyond the first drops of blood he`s smeared. All the same, his thumb was stained with red when Belarus suddenly took ahold of the hand and brought it to her mouth. Warmth enveloped his thumb, the wet muscle of her tongue stroking and dancing around the digit. Switzerland`s breath caught in his throat at the sensation, and she met his gaze - eyes twinkling in something akin to victory.
His back hit the sheets as she pushed him down, taking the knife from him. She trailed it along his collarbone, not hard enough to cut, only to sensitize the skin. Her fingers then followed the same path, pressing slightly, causing a phantom feeling of the touch of the knife again. She trailed the knife down his arm next, but paused at his forearm. A flash of pain as the knife was pressured enough to cut was followed by a slight sting as her mouth descended on the shallow slice. Her tongue lathed the cut first, before her lips surrounded it, sucking the blood from the wound.
It was pleasure and pain at once - the feeling of her lips and slight tug on his skin combined with the sting of the blood being drawn from the cut. Switzerland let out a groan, and she released the arm slowly, turning to him. Her eyes were dark with lust as she straddled his thighs, lips tainted red. His hand threaded through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he drew her down for a kiss. Her mouth tasted of blood and the tang that was simply her, and he revealed in the combination. There was a clatter as the knife hit the floor and then her nails were digging into his arms, and she was pressing closer. The swell of her breasts firm against his chest, and he brought his free hand around to trail down her spine. She gasped into the kiss, body sliding against his, a mixture of smooth landscapes and pleasant curves that he was well on his way to memorizing.
She nipped at his tongue, and when he drew back, followed it with a bite to his lip. He gave a growl, rolling to pin her beneath him, and a pleased sigh was the response. He rubbed himself against her entrance, throbbing with the need to be inside her. She was wet with her own desire and they gasped as one in delight. Her legs tangled with his as he pressed inside, breath mere pants against the skin of her shoulder. She was hot and tight and for a moment he could only lay still, savoring the feeling.
Belarus shifted beneath him, lips brushing his ear as she spoke. "Move or I`ll take off your ear."
"You dropped the knife." He couldn`t help but taunt.
"I`ll use my teeth."
She bit into his lobe as if to stress the point, and he nipped at her shoulder in retaliation. But it was mere play, and they reconciled by moving. Gasps and moans filled the room as they thrust, slowly at first, but harder and faster before long. Foreplay having already thickened the desire between them close to desperation. The cry of her release was high and keening, and her body tightened around him - making it impossible to hold back his own release. His hips pumped several more times as he poured himself into her, shouting his own release into her neck. It was only as they lay entangled afterwards that he had time to wonder if he'd left her ear ringing from his cry. If he did, she seemed undisturbed by the fact, hands stroking his arms in lazy contentment.
It was the flash of red out of the corner of his eye that reminded him that laying in Belarus's arms until morning wasn't an option. He nuzzled her shoulder before he raised himself up, pulling out of her. Belarus gave another sigh, stretching, before she sat up. A bowl of warm water, once steaming, was on the bedside table. He soaked a washcloth in it briefly, twisting it to wring it out, before he turned back to her - holding out a hand.
Belarus gave him the same amused look as always, before laying her arm in his grasp. He ran the cloth over her arm, washing away the spots of blood and cleansing the tiny cuts he had left on her. He has been equal parts confused and concerned by her amusement at his insistence of caring for any wounds left by their weapon play. Even in a casual affair, he could not imagine being cold enough to allow wounds to go undressed. Yet the concept seemed alien to the other nation. He patted her arm dry before dressing each cut with antibiotic cream and a bandage.
He pressed a kiss to her wrist before he released her arm, and for a moment her eyes clouded. Then she sat up, reaching for a fresh cloth to dip in the bowl of water, and taking his own arm into her hands. His cut was slightly longer than the nicks he'd left on her, as well as slightly deeper. Still shallow, and he'd had far worse wounds from careless accidents than any she had given him.
"You're a strange one." Belarus murmured as she placed a bandage on his cut. And those words by then were also familiar. Her fingers traced the bandage, silent after the words, as if lost in her own thoughts.
His own thoughts wandered as he traced her features with his eyes. Because he'd begun to realize that moments with her were never shadowed by memories of anyone else. Even times with Liechtenstein often reminded him of Austria. But with Belarus no history was dragged up; no long ago memories plagued him. With her there was only her. But then, and his lips quirked in amusement at the thought, what memory of Austria or Liechtenstein could possibly be connected to his time with her?
"Tell me why your smiling." Belarus demanded suddenly.
His eyes refocused on her, startled by the interruption of his private thoughts. He considered what to answer, before settling on the simplest one. "I was thinking...I enjoy spending time with you."
Belarus studied him suspiciously. "And that is all?"
He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted again. But this time the voice came from downstairs.
"Big brother!"
His eyes widened, almost panicked. "Liechtenstein."
Belarus released his arm and they both stood, dragging on discarded clothes hastily. "I thought she was visiting someone."
"She was." Switzerland responded to Belarus's comment.
"Big brother! Are you home?" From the sound of her voice, she must have begun to climb the stairs.
Pants and tank on, Switzerland headed for the door. "Wait a few minutes until I get her back downstairs."
"Cover up your cut!" Came the sharp response.
With a curse he grabbed up his jacket, dragging it onto the bandaged arm before letting himself out of the room.
"Liechtenstein." He started down the stairs she was climbing up.
"Big brother, I've been calling."
"I didn't hear you right away." Switzerland excused, noting a basket at the foot of the stair. "I didn't expect you back tonight." He gestured for her to lead the way back downstairs.
"I was worried about leaving you alone. I brought dinner. It was very inexpensive." Liechtenstein hopped down the final step, grabbing up her basket.
"That's good. It's only..."
A door upstairs opened and closed, and Liechtenstein tilted her head, confused. "Do you have company?"
Switzerland coughed. "Yes, Belarus came to visit."
His surrogate sister peered around him at the other nation as she came downstairs. "Oh! Hello."
"Good evening." Belarus nodded.
"I didn't know we had company. Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I was just leaving." Belarus assured her.
"Oh, but it's good. You should stay." She looked to Switzerland for confirmation of her words.
Giving another cough, he turned to Belarus. "You are welcome to join us."
Belarus hesitated, still a few steps from the bottom of the staircase. She seemed surprised by the offer, and uncertain what to respond. "I suppose...only for dinner."
"I'll set the table!" Liechtenstein dashed off, full of excitement.
Switzerland hesitated as Belarus took the final steps down to the bottom level, then he held out his arm to her. A small smile curved Belarus's lips as she took the formal offer, resting her arm on his. "Next time, my house." She whispered, though she seemed more amused then put off.
Switzerland swallowed a smile of his own as he led her to the dining room.
They were at the shooting range when she realized she was in love with him. She`d just gotten her third bullseye; he`d only been on two - but it was his turn. Sinewy body held in perfect shooting form, face a mask of concentration. The shot was slightly to the left. She was drawn in anyhow; hands gliding close enough to the gun to feel the heat from the barrel through the leather gloves. Then moving backwards until her hands were finally resting on his own. She pressed her body to his, both of them standing rigidly at attention. They didn`t exchange words; so in synch that explanation was superfluous. They acted as one as they aimed and pulled the trigger. Bullseye.
It was as they basked in the glow of that triumph, smiling and laughing, that it struck her. She was in love with him. Probably had been for months now. And the day was at once brighter and darker. Because she was in lovelove - Love! But what could become of it? This had been meant to be casual. Physical attraction; lust; someone to be with because who they wanted couldn`t or wouldn`t be theirs. She wasn`t some foolish human woman, she told herself. She`d survived centuries of wars and conquests. She could survive this without making herself vulnerable.
Perhaps not feeling as certain with that fact than she believed, she headed home, but found herself outside Ukraine's front door instead. And realizing that not since the early weeks of her affair with Switzerland had she felt the need to find comfort in her sister's cooking and gentle presence.
She pawed more than knocked at the door, and it opened only a minute or two later. "Belarus." Ukraine's eyes were both understanding and disappointed. "Did brother block your passport again?"
Tempted to point out that it had only been one time, and most likely a misunderstanding, Belarus shook her head instead. "I came for supper."
Ukraine nodded, opening the door wider so she could enter and took her coat. "Brother doesn't hate you, you know that." She patted her shoulder gently. "You just make him nervous."
Not bothering to correct her assumption that Russia was what was bothering her, Belarus headed toward the dining room. "I'll set the table."
"It's because you come across so strong. Maybe you should try being a little bit gentler?" Ukraine's voice drifted in from the kitchen.
"He respects power." Belarus responded, wondering who she was referring to now. Russia, or Switzerland? He hadn't seemed to mind how she'd come onto him. Though it had definitely not been gentle in anyway.
For a brief moment she imagined axing down his door like she`d done to Russia`s once. He wouldn`t hide, she decided. He`d probably be standing on the other side with a gun. Maybe even a XCR Light 5.56 Semi-Auto Rifle or something similar. He`d look absolutely delicious and would probably make some sort of quip about sending her the bill for the door and then...then... She didn`t know what then.
What he`d do or say if she asked him for more. Would he say yes? Would he not be interested? Too in love with his beloved Liechtenstein and his memories of his younger years with Austria? Would he want to stop seeing her?
"Belarus?" Ukraine interrupted her thoughts. "Is something else bothering you?"
"No." Her response had been too hasty, and Ukraine had given her a suspicious look. "I don't want to think about problems tonight. Let's just eat."
"I'm here...if you want to talk."
"As ever." She replied simply, because it was true. And because she wouldn't say more. Didn't want to be told the two options she already knew were the best choices. Take the risk. Let him go. She couldn't bring herself to risk what she had with him for something more. And she didn't want to let him go, even though moving forward with this new knowledge would only hurt her more. As she curled up in her borrowed room in her sister`s house that evening, she felt like a coward for the first time in centuries.
He was walking with Liechtenstein down a street in Bern when he saw the roses. White as snow. But it wasn't snow and ice that came to mind, but pale skin and violet eyes and white blonde hair. He crossed over to them before he'd realized what he was doing.
"You should buy some for her."
For a moment he believed the words had merely been an echo of his own thoughts. Then he blinked and turned to Liechtenstein. "For who?"
"Don't they remind you of Belarus?" She blinked up at him. "You should invite her to dinner again."
"She was just visiting."
"Then you should invite her to dinner properly."
He coughed, and turned back to the roses. "That's really not something..." He trailed off, and as he stared at the flowers in front of him he was struck by the realization that he wanted to buy the flowers for Belarus.
"What's not something?" Liechtenstein's perplexed frown seemed to be the prick of his own subconscious trying to tell him something.
You didn't buy flowers for a casual lover. For an on again and off again affair. Except they'd been more on than off for months. They exchanged emails as causally as touches. And the time she had stayed for dinner...
"Why can't you invite her out to dinner?"
"It would complicate things." He turned away from the flowers, struggling with a thought trying to make itself known.
"What things?"
"Relations. Relations get complicated that way."
"But you already have relations with her."
Much closer relations than he should. Full of soft skin and heated kisses. Gentle touches, and touches of red blood.
"That's not the same thing."
"Then what is? You aren't making sense. Don't you like her?"
A wit as sharp her knife, a sureness of character that equaled the steady hands that held her gun. A wickedness, and a grief.
"I don't love..." And he'd frozen to a stop on a street corner, facing his surrogate sister who's startled look was fast becoming less startled and more excited.
"You love her?"
And that was when he realized it was true. Which was both startling and immensely relieving. As if acknowledging a truth he'd known but had danced around. "I'm in love with her."
"You should get her those flowers." Liechtenstein gestured back the way they'd come.
"And chocolates." Switzerland gave a nod, beginning to warm to the notion.
"If you're going to court her, you should ask her family. Ukraine is her sister, right?"
Ask her family. That made sense. He didn't see Ukraine saying no.
"And her brother is..."
Liechtenstein's face paled and he stared at her for a moment, before what she'd been saying sunk in. "Is Russia." Liechtenstein has been playing the part of his subconscious, but his mind seemed to have recovered enough to take it's role up again. It replayed the realization and added to it. Belarus's brother was Russia. Their romance was most likely doomed before it even began.
To Be Continued...
Annoying Author's Notes: There's an old "When You" joke from a fav site of mine. When you look up so much weaponry the government is tracking your ISP. Thanks to this fic, I can now apply it to myself.
Hm...yah, I think Switzerland may be overestimating the issues. And I just had too much fun letting Liechtenstein lead him to the realization, as well as Ukraine being Belarus's place to mope. Now they finally know how they feel, but don't know how or even if to tell the other. Stoic wooing, and at least one more smut scene coming next.