Negotiations [Fanfic]
Started writing this over a year ago. Didn't finish editing it until a recent spell of having no internet for a few days.
Title: Negotiations
Pairing: Denmark/Norway/Sweden (Denmark/Norway and Norway/Sweden simultaneously, if you want to get technical)
Rating: 18+ for sex (threesome; DP specifically)
Length: ~7000 words
Summary: Denmark and Sweden make plans for Norway the night before May 17th... and then carry them out.
Many thanks to Bice and Anonymous for encouragement. ☆ As always, I'm happy to discuss things!
Negotiations
It was a warm evening in May. Tomorrow would be the seventeenth, and it seemed the very air bristled with a feeling of good cheer. Norway himself had seemed to have a bit of a spring in his step that day, and his mood was better than the usual, or so it had looked to Denmark when he and Sweden had taken him out as a pre-national day celebration of sorts. It was far more subdued than what Denmark would usually deem a 'celebration', but it looked like the effort had been successful: as far as he could tell, Norway seemed happy as a result of it; had even smiled at him. Damn it, Sweden had been right - some time spent outside and wandering through that little town close to Norway's old house before later retreating to a cafe had been exactly the trick. Fresh air and not a hell of a lot of excitement, that was what Norway liked.
Maybe, just maybe, it was having some company that did it for Norway, too. And not just Sweden's company, either. Denmark hoped so.
"Your move, Denmark."
"Yeah, yeah. Gimme' a sec; I'm thinkin'." Denmark looked up. Norway was looking at him from across the chessboard, chin resting on his hand, one eyebrow raised. As Denmark watched, Sweden, who'd sat himself close to Norway, leaned over and muttered something in his ear. Norway listened, tilted his head, then took a sip from his coffee cup, trying to hide his amusement.
"What's all that about?"
Sweden looked at him, pushed his glasses up a bit, and said simply, "Told'm if yer thinkin', we'll be in this place 'till closin'."
"Hey now. None'a them low blows, eh?" ...But even as he said that, Denmark saw again: Norway might have been hiding his face behind his mug, but by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, it was obvious he was smiling. Well, maybe a joke at his expense wasn't so bad. That decided, Denmark made his move, then leaned back in the cafe chair and reached for his coffee cup. "Okay, there. Your turn."
He watched as Sweden whispered in Norway's ear again, a string of words that Denmark couldn't make out. "No helpin' him cheat. He don't need it."
"Wasn't helpin' me win," Norway said as he scrutinized the board.
"Well, what did he say, then?"
"Said them sunglasses make ya' look ridiculous. 'N I agree. Now shut up 'n let me think - both've you."
Denmark shut up. That had been part of the deal when he and Sweden had discussed the plan a week previous. "If he tells ya' t'turn down th' volume, then turn it down," Sweden had said. Then he sighed and waited until Denmark's protests had died down before explaining - again - that the point was to do whatever Norway wanted, whatever he liked - and Norway liked quiet.
If being quiet would make Norway happy, then shutting up for a bit wasn't any hardship, at least not for one day.
The click of wood on wood signalled Norway's decision. "Check." Denmark glanced at the board. One look was enough to tell him that he'd get no further. Then a look back at Norway, who had leaned back with a satisfied look on his face, and was now looking at him expectantly.
"Well?" Norway asked.
Denmark spread his hands. "There it is."
"Y'have to say it."
"You win."
Denmark could have sworn he saw a smile tug at the corner of Norway's lips. Maybe Norway wasn't the only one who won.
By the time they left the cafe and started on the long walk back to Norway's home, the sun had begun to sink, tinting the sky rose. They made their way together, talking, the sound of laughter ringing every now and then. As they left the main street to turn onto the long road to Norway's home, the trees alongside curved gently toward them.
After a while Denmark fell into step behind the other two. He strolled with his hands in the pockets of his light summer jacket, casual and careless. As he watched, Norway and Sweden walked close together, their hands nearly touching. He could hear Sweden's voice rumbling some comment that he couldn't quite make out, and Norway's quiet reply of "Is that right."
Their fingers brushed, then linked together. Denmark felt a strange twist in his guts upon seeing that, and couldn't place it. Where had that come from?
"Denmark. Denmark. You're laggin'. Pick it up a bit." Norway said it without even looking at him.
"Heh! Sorry, was just admirin' the scenery, y'know how it is," Denmark replied. He picked up his pace, striding until he was next to Norway, who raised an eyebrow at him. He knew that response had been inadequate, but he could hardly say anything else.
"Right." Without another word Norway took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Denmark hesitated, surprised that Norway would give him such a gesture of affection outside of the more private confines of his home, then squeezed back.
"Nor..."
"Ain't nothin but trees between here 'n my place, if that's what you're askin'. Not a public space, this." Norway said it casually, as if it was nothing.
But it wasn't nothing.
Denmark looked to Sweden, who met his eyes with a nod. Somehow, it seemed that their plans had turned out right. So far, at least. But even if the rest of the evening wouldn't go as planned, it still had been a good shot. Denmark knitted his fingers with Norway's and grinned.
The rest of the evening was spent in Norway's kitchen, with warm light and cool air filtering in through the open windows. They shared more coffee and spiked with a bit of something to taste. All said, Denmark couldn't have planned it better. Norway looked so happy - as much as he was capable of looking it, at least. Any tension gone, he was at-ease, the corners of his lips turning up at times, just a little bit, just every now and then. He made playful jabs at them - both of them, not only Denmark, but Sweden too - and as he spoke there wasn't any of the usual chill in his voice, only warmth.
If he were a slightly different person, Denmark thought, he'd be laughing. Maybe he was laughing inside.
"So. 'Spect you two'll be staying the night, then," Norway said as the evening drew longer.
Sweden cleared his throat, looking as if he wanted to say something, then simply nodded.
Denmark grinned. "You could say that, yeah."
Norway's gaze flicked from one of them to the other. He took a long drink from his mug, as if considering the matter carefully, then raised an eyebrow at them and said, "Wasn't expecting both've you. You'll have t'flip for who gets the couch."
"Actually, Nor, y'see, what we were thinkin' was -"
"Don't tell me you been thinkin'. No good comes from that."
Shot down before he'd even begun to explain. Not that he had expected anything different from Norway. Never one to be discouraged, Denmark rested back in his seat and looked at Sweden who, if the expression on his face was anything to judge by, had been anticipating it as well. "Wouldn't y'know it. You tell him."
"Tell me what?" Norway looked to Sweden with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion - and interest, Denmark noted with pleasure.
"Were thinkin' we could both keep ya' company tonight," Sweden muttered. He didn't look directly at Norway as he spoke. It was for the better, as Norway stared at him with one of those impenetrable looks he sometimes got, the kind that crossed his face when he was thinking something but wouldn't say it and expected everyone else to read his mind.
There was a brief, awkward quiet. Denmark fidgeted in his seat, wanting to say something and knowing that he shouldn't. Just as he was going to give up and speak, Norway finally responded. "D'you remember what happened the last time we tried that?"
Denmark looked at Sweden, and Sweden looked at Denmark. They remembered. It wasn't exactly something that was easy to forget. It had started well enough, but quickly dissolved into fighting, and not long after that Norway pushed the two of them out of the room, barred the door, and told them that they could entertain each other if they liked, but he'd have none of it. They'd later agreed that it had been a bad idea all around.
"Yeah, we remember. But Nor," Denmark turned back to Norway, grinned, and summoned the most convincing tone he could muster. "It'll work out right this time."
"Promise," Sweden echoed, nodding for emphasis.
"Besides, that was hundreds of years ago! We get along all right now, don't we? It'll go just fine."
"Planned it out ahead've time."
"Right, that too. Like Sweden said, there. Look, we've thought real hard about this - we won't go 'n disappoint you." Denmark said it, then let it hang. As he and Sweden spoke, each giving their case, Norway's eyes had darted back and forth, looking from one to the other. After they went quiet, he sat with his head against one hand and an unimpressed expression on his face. Then again, Denmark thought, Norway usually looked unimpressed - but that didn't make his reaction any more encouraging.
"So," Norway began. "You promise it'll be different."
"Cross my heart," said Denmark.
"And no fightin'."
"Promise," Sweden said.
"No arguing, neither."
"Right, none've that."
They promised it, and they promised it honestly. With how much he and Sweden had discussed it beforehand, Denmark reasoned, there was no way in hell it could go badly. They had gone over it in detail, plotting out a strategy step by step: how to avoid getting in one another's way, and how best to satisfy Norway. In many respects, both were the exact same thing. After knowing him for so long, the two of them knew what he liked.
It took Norway agonizingly long to give an affirmative. But in the end, he did, with a nod and a quiet "Okay".
"Want to have a word with you first, Denmark," Norway said, then glanced at Sweden. "Alone. If you don't mind."
Sweden blinked in surprise, then nodded. He excused himself and stepped through the back door onto the rear porch to wait. Norway watched him, and when he was sure Sweden wouldn't be able to hear him, he took his coffee mug and went to refill it, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about the conversation they had just had, or about the situation in general.
"So you talked it out, did you. The both of you." He sounded as if he was unsure if he should believe it.
Denmark was aware that he had to tread carefully. "Yeah, we did," he said as he slipped out of his seat and went to lean against the counter, offering him a nonchalant smile. "Already told you we did."
Norway gave him a look, then took a long drink. It was one of those looks that Denmark never could be sure of; it was often so hard to tell what Norway was thinking. "Aye, that you did. I heard you," he said, setting the mug down, finally. "Find it hard to believe."
Denmark knew better than to ask why. Instead he just smiled and shook his head. "Guess I don't blame ya'. But we're really gonna' try this time."
"You two normally can't agree on anything. Drive each other nuts." Norway stood in front of him and gently pushed him back against the counter before looking up at him, his dark eyes serious and questioning as ever. "Give me one good reason to not go 'n think this'll end up with me kicking you both out've my bedroom again."
"That's easy. If you're between us, we won't even have to touch each other, y'see." Though Norway rolled his eyes and looked away, Denmark was sure that he had coloured a bit upon hearing that. He considered it, then decided to take a gamble. "Look at it this way," he said, resting his hands on Norway's waist, drawing him closer - unresisting, much to his relief. "Just think of it as like..."
"Like what?"
Denmark dipped his head and nuzzled by Norway's ear. "Like you just layin' back and relaxin' while the two've us do all the work."
For a moment Norway was quiet. Then, slowly, he leaned into him and muttered, "Go on." That's when Denmark knew that he had gotten through to him.
"Well," he said. "We'd be doin' whatever you want. Followin' whatever you say, y'see."
"An' that's what you two decided?"
"Yeah."
"I see."
"A'ccourse, we were't just talking to agree on it. Had to figure out what you like." Norway was silent, listening, letting him go on, Denmark realized. So he continued, slowly trailing his hands along Norway's sides while he spoke, doing his best to keep his voice at a low murmur. "Knew most've it already, but he told me some things I didn't know. Sounded good, too."
"Like what?"
When Denmark muttered the idea into Norway's ear, he could feel him tense up in his arms. For a second he was afraid Norway would pull away and reject the idea, even throw the whole thing out entirely and insist that it'd be the couch for him that night. Instead, after a moment, as if he had simply needed to think about it, Norway slowly eased up and sighed. "Let's just see if you two can cooperate at all afore we go gettin' into that," he said, leaning into him.
"Okay! Right. Sounds great. But if we can?" Denmark let the question hang.
"Then we'll see." Norway drew back a bit, and when he did Denmark could see that he was smiling the small, restrained kind that he usually had when he was trying not to smile. "You'd better behave yourself." It was an empty warning, and they both knew it.
"Don't you worry about that. Best behaviour. Promise." Denmark had hardly said it before Norway pressed close again and reached up to cup the back of his head. He knew what that meant and grinned before dipping his head downward to meet Norway's lips as Norway arched upward to close the distance. Their kiss was long and firm and Denmark had wanted it all day.
It didn't last long enough. Eventually Norway drew back, gently pushing Denmark away with a palm to the chest. "Enough of that," he said.
"But - "
"Need to have a word with Sweden," Norway interrupted, glancing toward the back door. "If we're to go and do this, it ain't just you what needs to say he'll cooperate." Without waiting for an answer, he slipped out of Denmark's arms and made his way out the door to the back patio.
Denmark leaned against the counter and watched them through the window. They were shadowy in the dim evening light as they stood out on the deck, at-ease in their talking as if it were a perfectly ordinary conversation. Norway stood with his hands in his pockets, his head tilted as he listened to Sweden's mumbling. He nodded, then said something which looked as if it might simply be "Okay", or maybe not. Then he stepped close to Sweden and went up on his toes to kiss him.
For a second Denmark watched as Sweden slid his arms around Norway's waist, then he compulsively looked away. There was something about it that seemed somehow too private, too intimate. He wasn't meant to see it.
When they stepped back through the door, Denmark busied himself with cleaning up after their coffee, as if he hadn't been watching them at all. He looked toward them and smiled, meeting Norway's eyes. If Norway had any suspicion that he had seen them, he gave no sign of it.
"So. Everything all right?" Denmark ventured, glancing to Sweden, who nodded. There was bit of stiffness in the gesture, but not as much as there usually might be, and not as much as might be expected to be there, even considering the circumstances.
"It's fine," Norway said, speaking for him. Then, looking to Denmark, he repeated, " It's fine," more firmly. Though he couldn't be sure, Denmark had a feeling that was meant as a go-ahead. He licked his lips, looked to Sweden again, and nodded.
"Right. So, then. What d'you say to me 'n you showin' Nor a good time?"
Sweden coloured, then muttered his agreement before wordlessly taking Norway by the hand; Norway, who Denmark realized, was looking at him and smiling.
Without further hesitation, they guided him to his bedroom.
Norway slipped into the room first, going to the window to open the blinds. For a moment he stood looking out at the bright night, the moonlight washing over his face and making him pale. Then he turned toward Sweden and Denmark, sweeping his eyes over the two of them. "No need for a lamp tonight," he said. Then he strode across the floor, and in a second he was in their arms.
They took turns as they stripped him and their selves, working slowly, their movements smooth and coordinated. Norway barely went a second without someone's mouth on his lips or his neck, someone whispering in his ear, someone's hands sliding along his sides, stroking his hips.
Denmark grinned as the last piece of clothing fell to the floor. It was amazing what a little teamwork could do. They could do things right, sometimes, some things, once in a while. So far the only hitch had been in Norway's breathing, and if everything went right that night, it would stay that way.
They guided Norway to his bed and settled down with him. This was something they had talked about too, how to handle it, how to go about it. Denmark hadn't been kidding when they had told Norway that he and Sweden had thought of everything. They had discussed the entire process in minute detail, and the reason behind it was simple: they wanted their plan to work, and for it to work, they had to agree on everything. They had to strategize and decide their roles - and that was exactly what they had done.
So there was no need to say anything as they settled down on the mattress, as Denmark braced his back against the headboard, as they eased Norway into his lap. Denmark, to what he hoped would be his credit, held his tongue and concentrated on the task at hand and on Norway's skin under his fingertips. Not a single word was exchanged between them. And - just as he had told Norway - he and Sweden hardly touched except for the graze of hands on hands as they slid their fingertips over him.
Norway was the one who spoke first. "Goin' better'n I thought." His muttering had a surprised hint to it and Denmark couldn't help but smile as he pressed a kiss against Norway's neck. He could feel Sweden moving as he shifted to cup Norway's chin in his hand and kiss him long and deep, almost as if to say, "We told you". Denmark sighed, trailed his hands over Norway's hips as he listened to him moan against Sweden's mouth and felt him relax in his arms. That quiet, muffled noise had almost sounded like Norway admitting defeat.
When that kiss finally broke Norway's breath was quickened and uneven. He shivered and rested back against Denmark, a pleased hum slipping out of him as Denmark kissed his hair, turning his eyes to Sweden. In the dim light, Sweden's minute nodding was barely visible, and Denmark could only just make it out. Still, there was no denying what it meant. 'Yes'.
Okay.
"So, Nor," Denmark said, speaking as quietly as he could. "How about it. You just lay back and relax, 'n leave all the work to us."
Norway took a moment to answer. Though he couldn't see it, Denmark had a feeling that he had that close-lipped, cool-eyed look about him, the kind he sometimes got when he was being contrary for seemingly no other reason than the sake of being contrary. Maybe he was thinking it over - but, Denmark thought with exasperation, how much did they really have to do to prove that they were ready for this? Seeming to think the same thing, Sweden moved to nuzzle at Norway as if to ask him, 'Well? How about it?'
This won't do, Denmark thought, pressing his face into Norway's hair. It would just figure that Norway would pick a moment like this to be weird about it. For a split second he thought about it, then decided what to do. Lightly, nonchalantly, he trailed his fingertips over Norway's hips again. He heard the gasp he had been hoping for and grinned, knowing Norway couldn't see it.
"Okay." The word was barely audible, breathed more than spoken. "Think that'd be all right." With his usual habit of understatement, Norway gave in at last.
Get him worked up, Sweden and Denmark had agreed. Get Norway worked up enough and he'll be in no mood to protest, question, or even criticize. Just follow the plan.
It was a matter of waiting; waiting while Sweden delivered Norway firm, deep kisses to get him pliant, get him ready. Kiss him, Denmark had said when they discussed it. He likes that. Sweden agreed. Kiss him and I'll take care of the rest.
Well. That was easy. Denmark could be patient and wait while Sweden kept Norway occupied. It wasn't difficult at all to find his own ways to amuse himself, pressing kisses over Norway's neck and shoulders, trailing his hands along his hips, his thighs, looking to get a reaction, looking to hit the right spots, the places that would make him shiver and gasp against Sweden's mouth and press back into him. With each slight tremor, Denmark knew he was getting through to him.
After a while he slid his hand between Norway's legs, his lips curling into a satisfied grin as he heard Norway moan at his touch. Not to get competitive, of course. They'd agreed on that. But, Denmark thought as he curled his fingers and slowly stroked him, it felt good knowing that even if Norway's mouth was currently occupied, Denmark could still distract him and draw out those sounds he loved hearing.
It wasn't long before they broke that kiss. Norway's head fell back to rest against Denmark's shoulder as Sweden began to slowly move downward. Denmark moved too, his gestures calculated as he let go and trailed his hands along Norway's thighs, the gentle pressure hinting at what he needed. Norway didn't utter a word as he took the hint and spread his legs, pliant to Denmark's touch, and he didn't say anything as Denmark brushed kisses along his neck, as Sweden trailed downward with lips and tongue. It wasn't until Sweden reached his destination that Norway made noise, a word gasped out as Sweden's tongue slid over the head of his cock. Maybe it was an oath, or maybe it was just yes. Denmark refrained from commenting, and instead pressed his face against Norway's neck and touched him all over, gently pressing his fingers along the spots he knew would make Norway shiver, and was rewarded in kind with gasps and tremors, though those were, he supposed, as much as result of Sweden's efforts as anything else. He felt Norway shift a bit and murmur something, "More", as he cupped the back of Sweden's head, giving gentle pressure to encourage him, urging him to take more of his cock into his mouth and suck him off harder. Evidently, Sweden complied, because Norway gasped his next words out, a breathless, "Yes, like that."
Denmark found himself wishing he were in a position to see Norway's face. He probably looked amazing.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate with the way Norway was reacting, to say nothing of the way his own body was reacting. Denmark made an effort regardless, brushing his fingers along Norway's face, making him turn his head enough so he could kiss him. Norway moaned against his mouth, moaning deeper still as Denmark slid his fingers through his hair and twined his fingers in it, wrapping around the flyaway curl at the base of Norway's neck. He was pliant against him, and while Denmark knew that a great deal of the case was Sweden's diligent work down below, it was his own actions that caused the parting of Norway's lips and the hunger in that kiss, Denmark was sure.
If only he could see him properly. Well, it didn't matter, really.
They broke the kiss and lingered close, their lips damp and their breath shaking. Finally, Denmark ventured the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since the moment they had stepped into the bedroom. "So, Nor," he whispered, his lips grazing Norway's mouth as he spoke. "How about it? Both of us."
Norway kissed him again before murmuring a response that was deep and breathy and just barely loud enough for the both of them to hear him. "Yes."
Yes.
Even with the closeness enough to be bothersome under any other circumstances, Denmark and Sweden found that they could ignore it in favour of pleasuring Norway. It meant that they would have him. They would both have him.
They worked together to guide him back, easing him and touching him with strong, careful fingers, Denmark's mouth on his throat and Sweden's hands on his thighs, gently pushing them apart, spreading him open wide. Norway was soft to their touch as he moved with them and let them touch him. All the while, both of them were very aware that he was allowing it. All of it happened only because he allowed it.
Even with the previous contact rousing him, Norway was relaxed and at ease under their gentle ministrations, and this was all for the better. It meant that he was unresisting to the slick fingers sliding inside of him; in fact he welcomed it, rocking into that touch and making soft noises as if to say yes, go on, get on with it, moaning as those big fingers slid in deeper. It was hard to resist that, but Denmark knew that neither of them were about to give in, not yet. They would need him slick and open and ready, the both of them.
Soon, Denmark thought. He was ready for it, had been ready for quite a while, and the waiting was getting to him. He suspected that Sweden was no less impatient than he was himself, and to say nothing of Norway, too. But they had to wait for this. They had to ease him into it.
The idea had surprised Denmark when Sweden first suggested it, at least to begin with. He'd asked if he was sure, but Sweden had been serious when he said that he knew for a fact that Norway liked this kind of thing. Half-joking, Denmark had tried to get him to say if he knew from experience; and at that, Sweden had simply blushed in response and tried to turn the subject back to Norway's fantasies. That was answer enough for Denmark. He knew that Sweden had done it with him, and he didn't need to ask who had helped him.
Norway had told him about it once, Sweden had said when they'd been together one night, drinking and not really thinking about what either of them were saying. Norway had said it. He'd said that he wanted them, both of them at the same time. Denmark had pulled a face at that, and Sweden as well, but Denmark had to admit that he wasn't at all surprised. He remembered Norway whispering to him once, sometime after they'd fucked and were resting together. He'd said that he liked resting back and letting someone fuck him, and that he liked feeling so full. And Denmark knew, without even having to think about it, that when it came to himself and Sweden, Norway couldn't - wouldn't - choose between them. He was the one who flipped a coin when given the option of either of them. It was no wonder that he wanted both of them.
In Norway's bedroom the discussion was coming to fruition. Norway was warm in Denmark's arms and Sweden was much too close. Denmark pressed his face against Norway's neck and tried to concentrate only on him and the sound of his quick breathing as he slid his fingers in and out of him. On the way that breathing was muffled when Sweden kissed him, soft and slow. On the high, needy sound Norway made against Sweden's mouth before he broke the kiss and breathed a word too quiet for Denmark to hear. He understood what he meant regardless. The word had been an order, not a request. Denmark looked past Norway's neck to Sweden, who met his gaze wordlessly, kissed Norway again, then moved.
With great care they took him in their hands, moving him and shifting so Denmark could slide his cock inside of Norway. They did it slowly - so as to ease the going, and so Norway could savour it. Denmark braced himself back against the pillows and the headboard, his hands steady on Norway's hips, thankful for the dark as it gave him little reason to be envious of Sweden's position. With the lack of light, the amazing view Sweden otherwise would have had was negated.
Denmark bit his lip and held back a moan as Norway rocked down against him. This was what he liked. Just this, the two of them. It would have been perfect. He heard Norway whisper something too low for him to hear properly, and he knew it was meant for Sweden. He knew what would happen next.
For Norway, Denmark could deal with it. They both could. He waited while they kissed and touched and tried to lose himself in the rhythm of Norway's slow, cautious rocking. After a breath-shaking moment, he heard the word that they had been anticipating.
"Now." Norway's soft murmuring seemed louder than it really was, pressing in on them in the close, heated darkness. All three of them paused, their hands stilling, not a sound heard except for quick, heavy breathing. Denmark was sure that Sweden was looking at him.
As if passing an agreement between them, they moved, carefully sliding inside of him - together. Norway made no sound of complaint, only letting out one soft murmur before sighing again and shifting to aid them. Denmark kissed his neck and waited as Sweden pressed closer to him. It was too close. Much too close. He shivered as he felt their cocks slide against one another. But with Norway between them, it was all right. It was fine.
Norway was tight and as they started to slowly fuck him Denmark wondered if he finally had that fullness that he seemed to crave. If this was what he wanted. The way he rocked carefully down onto the both of them plainly showed his satisfaction, and the sounds he made were pleasured, even eager. Norway wasn't the kind to beg for more; he was the kind to demand it.
Denmark closed his eyes and slid one of his hands between Norway's legs and drew out more of those soft, pretty sounds. He tried to concentrate on that and on him and on the way Norway shivered and moaned as he rocked down onto him again, and tried to pay no mind to the fact that the tightness wasn't only because Norway was tight. There was a heat that wasn't Norway's heat pressing to him, a closeness coming too close in the way Denmark's hands brushed against Sweden's as they both held Norway, touching him and steadying him and embracing him. Denmark closed his eyes and tried to ignore Sweden's breathing, slowly becoming more erratic, more heated, and the way their cocks rubbed against each other inside Norway in an act of close frottage.
He ignored it, even though he liked it. Even though it felt good. Even though his own breathing was becoming steadily quicker too.
As they thrust up into him Norway let out a gasp, shuddering, murmuring some half-formed word of approval. Denmark buried his face in Norway's hair. He was tight, tense, wound up, feeling the heat rolling off Norway as he rocked up into him again. He realized - as Norway murmured something and turned his head to graze his lips against Denmark's cheek, as Sweden kissed Norway's neck and made him moan softly, rock down onto the both of them more eagerly - he realized that it really was the both of them that Norway wanted. He wanted both of them touching him, kissing him, fucking him. This was what Norway wanted, what made him turn his head to kiss Denmark again, what made him cling to Sweden and keen against Denmark's mouth as their cocks slid deeper inside of him, what made him slide his hand between his legs to touch himself.
He wanted both of them. He got off on it. He never could choose between them, and now he didn't have to.
Something stirred in Denmark as he realized this. He and Sweden had been right all along, but they hadn't realized just how right.
There was nothing hotter than Norway getting off. When he saw just how much Norway wanted it, the way he shivered and moaned as he rolled his hips while the both of them moved in him, Denmark could hardly last much longer. To judge by the shuddering breaths Sweden was taking, he was close too. Their hands brushed just once as they slid over Norway's body and though he was half-dazed from the feeling of Norway in his arms Denmark made a decision. He steadied and slid his hand along Norway's hip, moved to cover Sweden's hand where it stayed holding Norway, grounding him, strong.
Sweden's hand twitched underneath his own, and Denmark knew he understood. Sure enough, after a moment Sweden moved and their fingers linked, knitting together, and though normally neither of them could stand the thought of touching hands with one another, it was worth it when Norway gasped, wound up even more by the knowledge that they were touching. He made a soft noise, some half-coherent whisper as he rocked hard down onto them, too low and breathy for Denmark to make it out. He didn't care. It was worth it to see the way he reacted as they held him and touched him - together.
Almost anything was worth hearing Norway and the things he gasped out as they fucked him together. Half-whispered words, some of them curses, others which sounded like names. Denmark's. Sweden's. Denmark gripped Sweden's hand even as they held Norway together, and kissed at Norway's neck, groaning as he thrust up into him. All of it was slow, too slow, and the friction was too much, the heat, the pressing and the presence of Sweden, and of Norway between them. Heat. Press. Breathing. Their cocks sliding together. Sweden was too present, much too present, but Norway was completely undone between them, his head lolled back against Denmark's shoulder while the gasps slipped out of his bruised lips, one arm wrapped around Sweden to cling to him while he touched himself. Denmark slid one hand up to tangle it in Norway's hair, stroking it and winding it in his fingers, and the sound Norway made under that touch was enough to push him over, releasing inside of him with a groan.
Denmark still held Norway after that. With his breath still unsteady, he gripped his hair and turned his head so he could kiss him, muffling with his mouth the soft sounds he made as Sweden fucked him. He could feel Norway as he moved, rocking his hips, tense and taught and close, so close. Denmark would bet anything that he was digging his nails into Sweden's shoulders, judging from the way Sweden hissed and groaned as he thrust up into Norway. He knew it, if he knew Norway at all. Dipping his head, he abandoned Norway's mouth in favour of kissing his neck, holding him steady by the hip, his fingers still locked with Sweden's fingers. The moan Norway made at that was low and breathy and Denmark knew that the sound was what drove Sweden to finish, gripping tightly at his hand as he came with a groan and crashed his lips against Norway's mouth to silence himself.
Denmark took a deep breath and drew Norway closer, holding him as he worked to bring him over. Sweden in no state for it, his mouth still pressed to Norway's mouth, holding him steady and kissing him hard. Denmark slid his hand between Norway's legs, took his cock in his hand. He heard a gasp as Norway rocked into it, eager and almost desperate. Close. Unsteadily, he carefully let go of Sweden's hand in favour of touching Norway's hair. He took that slim flyaway curl between his fingers and stroked, and that was the end of it. As Norway came, gasping, his sounds muffled against Sweden's mouth, Denmark held him and touched him and stroked him until he eased in his arms, broke Sweden's kiss, and rested back against him, his breath unsteady before gradually, finally slowing.
In the minutes that followed none of them said a word. They remained wrapped together in the dark even after they could finally relax, their breaths steady, their heads clear. It was too warm as they held one another, staying close, Norway's head resting on Denmark's shoulder, Denmark's face pressed to his hair, and Sweden with his arms wrapped Norway, sighing and nuzzling at his cheek. Eventually Denmark realized that he had taken Sweden's hand again, and Sweden hadn't made any move to let go.
Their hands stayed that way, their fingers loosely knitted together, and when they finally did let go, it was because Norway moved, shifting in their arms, murmuring tiredly that it was getting late, and that maybe they should get cleaned up. When they did let go of each other, it was too quickly. Denmark couldn't see Sweden's eyes in the dark, not quite, but he could feel him looking at him. For a moment, they both hesitated, and then their hands brushed again, touched, and held tight, just for a second.
It was an agreement, and one that they both understood. The night had been a success, all of it. The quiet sigh Norway made as they took turns delivering him a long, lasting kiss confirmed it.
Denmark rested in Norway's bed and listened to the sound of him breathing in the dark. It was a slow sound, relaxed, in and out, uneven. Norway wasn't sleeping.
He and Sweden had wedged Norway between them with the excuse that he was the smallest of the three. That excuse was one they had been using since the old days, but Norway still readily agreed to it. After they had cleaned up, emerging from the shower smelling like soap, Norway had fallen upon the sheets, rested back, and ordered the two of them to get to sleep because he wasn't about to wait on them, and he couldn't be having with the prospect of being exhausted in the morning either, what with having things that needed doing on his national day. In spite of his words, the way he sighed when they slid their arms around him made clear what he really wanted.
Denmark thought about it, and wondered if he had always wanted it. If he had always liked it like this, the three of them.
Probably not, he reminded himself. It wasn't difficult to recall the past and the way they had been over the centuries. No, probably not, all things considered. But now... Now, it was different.
It was completely different.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Norway stirred slowly and carefully beside him, as if trying not to disturb either of them. Denmark hesitated for only a second, then slid his hand over, grazing his fingertips against Norway's bare skin before touching one of his hands. 'See?' the gesture said. 'I'm awake too'.
Norway's breathing paused at that touch, his shoulders tensing, then with a sigh he relaxed and took Denmark's hand. For a while they stayed together that way. There was no need to say anything. Norway traced slow circles on Denmark's hand with his thumb and Denmark barely even breathed, biting down on his lip as he tried to stay quiet for him because that was what Norway liked. Quiet. Sometimes he liked it too much - it wasn't always good for a person, or so Denmark thought. But for this moment, in the dark and the quiet, he could abide.
Norway was the one who spoke first. His voice was soft, his lips near Denmark's ear, brushing against it as he whispered to him. "Sometimes your ideas aren't bad," he said.
Denmark could feel heat creeping over his cheeks, his neck, his ears. Come on, he told himself. You shouldn't be blushing at your age. He took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Wasn't just my idea," he said as quietly as he could.
He felt Norway move a bit in his arms as he turned to slide a hand over to Sweden. Though he couldn't see it Denmark was sure that Norway was taking his hand and checking to see if he was awake. There was no response from Sweden except for a sigh and movement as he turned over in his sleep. Satisfied with that, Norway pressed close to Denmark again and rested his head against his shoulder.
"No," he said. "It wasn't."
Denmark listened to him, thinking that he would go on, but Norway didn't say anything else. Instead he trailed his fingertips along his wrist. Norway's fingers were cold and Denmark took his hand, cupped it in his own to warm it. Even when cold, he appreciated the familiar shape of Norway's fingers linked with his own, their palms pressed together.
He tried to think of what to say. It had to be the right thing for once rather than something that Norway would roll his eyes at. He rubbed that chilled hand, kissed it, and tried to come up with something.
"Hey, Nor-"
Two fingers pressed against his lips, and Denmark stopped talking, blinking curiously at Norway.
Without a word, Norway lifted his head and kissed him.
Maybe, Denmark thought as Norway silently pinned him against the mattress, maybe he didn't have to say anything.
He didn't have to say anything at all.
The End
Title: Negotiations
Pairing: Denmark/Norway/Sweden (Denmark/Norway and Norway/Sweden simultaneously, if you want to get technical)
Rating: 18+ for sex (threesome; DP specifically)
Length: ~7000 words
Summary: Denmark and Sweden make plans for Norway the night before May 17th... and then carry them out.
Many thanks to Bice and Anonymous for encouragement. ☆ As always, I'm happy to discuss things!
Negotiations
It was a warm evening in May. Tomorrow would be the seventeenth, and it seemed the very air bristled with a feeling of good cheer. Norway himself had seemed to have a bit of a spring in his step that day, and his mood was better than the usual, or so it had looked to Denmark when he and Sweden had taken him out as a pre-national day celebration of sorts. It was far more subdued than what Denmark would usually deem a 'celebration', but it looked like the effort had been successful: as far as he could tell, Norway seemed happy as a result of it; had even smiled at him. Damn it, Sweden had been right - some time spent outside and wandering through that little town close to Norway's old house before later retreating to a cafe had been exactly the trick. Fresh air and not a hell of a lot of excitement, that was what Norway liked.
Maybe, just maybe, it was having some company that did it for Norway, too. And not just Sweden's company, either. Denmark hoped so.
"Your move, Denmark."
"Yeah, yeah. Gimme' a sec; I'm thinkin'." Denmark looked up. Norway was looking at him from across the chessboard, chin resting on his hand, one eyebrow raised. As Denmark watched, Sweden, who'd sat himself close to Norway, leaned over and muttered something in his ear. Norway listened, tilted his head, then took a sip from his coffee cup, trying to hide his amusement.
"What's all that about?"
Sweden looked at him, pushed his glasses up a bit, and said simply, "Told'm if yer thinkin', we'll be in this place 'till closin'."
"Hey now. None'a them low blows, eh?" ...But even as he said that, Denmark saw again: Norway might have been hiding his face behind his mug, but by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, it was obvious he was smiling. Well, maybe a joke at his expense wasn't so bad. That decided, Denmark made his move, then leaned back in the cafe chair and reached for his coffee cup. "Okay, there. Your turn."
He watched as Sweden whispered in Norway's ear again, a string of words that Denmark couldn't make out. "No helpin' him cheat. He don't need it."
"Wasn't helpin' me win," Norway said as he scrutinized the board.
"Well, what did he say, then?"
"Said them sunglasses make ya' look ridiculous. 'N I agree. Now shut up 'n let me think - both've you."
Denmark shut up. That had been part of the deal when he and Sweden had discussed the plan a week previous. "If he tells ya' t'turn down th' volume, then turn it down," Sweden had said. Then he sighed and waited until Denmark's protests had died down before explaining - again - that the point was to do whatever Norway wanted, whatever he liked - and Norway liked quiet.
If being quiet would make Norway happy, then shutting up for a bit wasn't any hardship, at least not for one day.
The click of wood on wood signalled Norway's decision. "Check." Denmark glanced at the board. One look was enough to tell him that he'd get no further. Then a look back at Norway, who had leaned back with a satisfied look on his face, and was now looking at him expectantly.
"Well?" Norway asked.
Denmark spread his hands. "There it is."
"Y'have to say it."
"You win."
Denmark could have sworn he saw a smile tug at the corner of Norway's lips. Maybe Norway wasn't the only one who won.
By the time they left the cafe and started on the long walk back to Norway's home, the sun had begun to sink, tinting the sky rose. They made their way together, talking, the sound of laughter ringing every now and then. As they left the main street to turn onto the long road to Norway's home, the trees alongside curved gently toward them.
After a while Denmark fell into step behind the other two. He strolled with his hands in the pockets of his light summer jacket, casual and careless. As he watched, Norway and Sweden walked close together, their hands nearly touching. He could hear Sweden's voice rumbling some comment that he couldn't quite make out, and Norway's quiet reply of "Is that right."
Their fingers brushed, then linked together. Denmark felt a strange twist in his guts upon seeing that, and couldn't place it. Where had that come from?
"Denmark. Denmark. You're laggin'. Pick it up a bit." Norway said it without even looking at him.
"Heh! Sorry, was just admirin' the scenery, y'know how it is," Denmark replied. He picked up his pace, striding until he was next to Norway, who raised an eyebrow at him. He knew that response had been inadequate, but he could hardly say anything else.
"Right." Without another word Norway took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Denmark hesitated, surprised that Norway would give him such a gesture of affection outside of the more private confines of his home, then squeezed back.
"Nor..."
"Ain't nothin but trees between here 'n my place, if that's what you're askin'. Not a public space, this." Norway said it casually, as if it was nothing.
But it wasn't nothing.
Denmark looked to Sweden, who met his eyes with a nod. Somehow, it seemed that their plans had turned out right. So far, at least. But even if the rest of the evening wouldn't go as planned, it still had been a good shot. Denmark knitted his fingers with Norway's and grinned.
The rest of the evening was spent in Norway's kitchen, with warm light and cool air filtering in through the open windows. They shared more coffee and spiked with a bit of something to taste. All said, Denmark couldn't have planned it better. Norway looked so happy - as much as he was capable of looking it, at least. Any tension gone, he was at-ease, the corners of his lips turning up at times, just a little bit, just every now and then. He made playful jabs at them - both of them, not only Denmark, but Sweden too - and as he spoke there wasn't any of the usual chill in his voice, only warmth.
If he were a slightly different person, Denmark thought, he'd be laughing. Maybe he was laughing inside.
"So. 'Spect you two'll be staying the night, then," Norway said as the evening drew longer.
Sweden cleared his throat, looking as if he wanted to say something, then simply nodded.
Denmark grinned. "You could say that, yeah."
Norway's gaze flicked from one of them to the other. He took a long drink from his mug, as if considering the matter carefully, then raised an eyebrow at them and said, "Wasn't expecting both've you. You'll have t'flip for who gets the couch."
"Actually, Nor, y'see, what we were thinkin' was -"
"Don't tell me you been thinkin'. No good comes from that."
Shot down before he'd even begun to explain. Not that he had expected anything different from Norway. Never one to be discouraged, Denmark rested back in his seat and looked at Sweden who, if the expression on his face was anything to judge by, had been anticipating it as well. "Wouldn't y'know it. You tell him."
"Tell me what?" Norway looked to Sweden with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion - and interest, Denmark noted with pleasure.
"Were thinkin' we could both keep ya' company tonight," Sweden muttered. He didn't look directly at Norway as he spoke. It was for the better, as Norway stared at him with one of those impenetrable looks he sometimes got, the kind that crossed his face when he was thinking something but wouldn't say it and expected everyone else to read his mind.
There was a brief, awkward quiet. Denmark fidgeted in his seat, wanting to say something and knowing that he shouldn't. Just as he was going to give up and speak, Norway finally responded. "D'you remember what happened the last time we tried that?"
Denmark looked at Sweden, and Sweden looked at Denmark. They remembered. It wasn't exactly something that was easy to forget. It had started well enough, but quickly dissolved into fighting, and not long after that Norway pushed the two of them out of the room, barred the door, and told them that they could entertain each other if they liked, but he'd have none of it. They'd later agreed that it had been a bad idea all around.
"Yeah, we remember. But Nor," Denmark turned back to Norway, grinned, and summoned the most convincing tone he could muster. "It'll work out right this time."
"Promise," Sweden echoed, nodding for emphasis.
"Besides, that was hundreds of years ago! We get along all right now, don't we? It'll go just fine."
"Planned it out ahead've time."
"Right, that too. Like Sweden said, there. Look, we've thought real hard about this - we won't go 'n disappoint you." Denmark said it, then let it hang. As he and Sweden spoke, each giving their case, Norway's eyes had darted back and forth, looking from one to the other. After they went quiet, he sat with his head against one hand and an unimpressed expression on his face. Then again, Denmark thought, Norway usually looked unimpressed - but that didn't make his reaction any more encouraging.
"So," Norway began. "You promise it'll be different."
"Cross my heart," said Denmark.
"And no fightin'."
"Promise," Sweden said.
"No arguing, neither."
"Right, none've that."
They promised it, and they promised it honestly. With how much he and Sweden had discussed it beforehand, Denmark reasoned, there was no way in hell it could go badly. They had gone over it in detail, plotting out a strategy step by step: how to avoid getting in one another's way, and how best to satisfy Norway. In many respects, both were the exact same thing. After knowing him for so long, the two of them knew what he liked.
It took Norway agonizingly long to give an affirmative. But in the end, he did, with a nod and a quiet "Okay".
"Want to have a word with you first, Denmark," Norway said, then glanced at Sweden. "Alone. If you don't mind."
Sweden blinked in surprise, then nodded. He excused himself and stepped through the back door onto the rear porch to wait. Norway watched him, and when he was sure Sweden wouldn't be able to hear him, he took his coffee mug and went to refill it, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about the conversation they had just had, or about the situation in general.
"So you talked it out, did you. The both of you." He sounded as if he was unsure if he should believe it.
Denmark was aware that he had to tread carefully. "Yeah, we did," he said as he slipped out of his seat and went to lean against the counter, offering him a nonchalant smile. "Already told you we did."
Norway gave him a look, then took a long drink. It was one of those looks that Denmark never could be sure of; it was often so hard to tell what Norway was thinking. "Aye, that you did. I heard you," he said, setting the mug down, finally. "Find it hard to believe."
Denmark knew better than to ask why. Instead he just smiled and shook his head. "Guess I don't blame ya'. But we're really gonna' try this time."
"You two normally can't agree on anything. Drive each other nuts." Norway stood in front of him and gently pushed him back against the counter before looking up at him, his dark eyes serious and questioning as ever. "Give me one good reason to not go 'n think this'll end up with me kicking you both out've my bedroom again."
"That's easy. If you're between us, we won't even have to touch each other, y'see." Though Norway rolled his eyes and looked away, Denmark was sure that he had coloured a bit upon hearing that. He considered it, then decided to take a gamble. "Look at it this way," he said, resting his hands on Norway's waist, drawing him closer - unresisting, much to his relief. "Just think of it as like..."
"Like what?"
Denmark dipped his head and nuzzled by Norway's ear. "Like you just layin' back and relaxin' while the two've us do all the work."
For a moment Norway was quiet. Then, slowly, he leaned into him and muttered, "Go on." That's when Denmark knew that he had gotten through to him.
"Well," he said. "We'd be doin' whatever you want. Followin' whatever you say, y'see."
"An' that's what you two decided?"
"Yeah."
"I see."
"A'ccourse, we were't just talking to agree on it. Had to figure out what you like." Norway was silent, listening, letting him go on, Denmark realized. So he continued, slowly trailing his hands along Norway's sides while he spoke, doing his best to keep his voice at a low murmur. "Knew most've it already, but he told me some things I didn't know. Sounded good, too."
"Like what?"
When Denmark muttered the idea into Norway's ear, he could feel him tense up in his arms. For a second he was afraid Norway would pull away and reject the idea, even throw the whole thing out entirely and insist that it'd be the couch for him that night. Instead, after a moment, as if he had simply needed to think about it, Norway slowly eased up and sighed. "Let's just see if you two can cooperate at all afore we go gettin' into that," he said, leaning into him.
"Okay! Right. Sounds great. But if we can?" Denmark let the question hang.
"Then we'll see." Norway drew back a bit, and when he did Denmark could see that he was smiling the small, restrained kind that he usually had when he was trying not to smile. "You'd better behave yourself." It was an empty warning, and they both knew it.
"Don't you worry about that. Best behaviour. Promise." Denmark had hardly said it before Norway pressed close again and reached up to cup the back of his head. He knew what that meant and grinned before dipping his head downward to meet Norway's lips as Norway arched upward to close the distance. Their kiss was long and firm and Denmark had wanted it all day.
It didn't last long enough. Eventually Norway drew back, gently pushing Denmark away with a palm to the chest. "Enough of that," he said.
"But - "
"Need to have a word with Sweden," Norway interrupted, glancing toward the back door. "If we're to go and do this, it ain't just you what needs to say he'll cooperate." Without waiting for an answer, he slipped out of Denmark's arms and made his way out the door to the back patio.
Denmark leaned against the counter and watched them through the window. They were shadowy in the dim evening light as they stood out on the deck, at-ease in their talking as if it were a perfectly ordinary conversation. Norway stood with his hands in his pockets, his head tilted as he listened to Sweden's mumbling. He nodded, then said something which looked as if it might simply be "Okay", or maybe not. Then he stepped close to Sweden and went up on his toes to kiss him.
For a second Denmark watched as Sweden slid his arms around Norway's waist, then he compulsively looked away. There was something about it that seemed somehow too private, too intimate. He wasn't meant to see it.
When they stepped back through the door, Denmark busied himself with cleaning up after their coffee, as if he hadn't been watching them at all. He looked toward them and smiled, meeting Norway's eyes. If Norway had any suspicion that he had seen them, he gave no sign of it.
"So. Everything all right?" Denmark ventured, glancing to Sweden, who nodded. There was bit of stiffness in the gesture, but not as much as there usually might be, and not as much as might be expected to be there, even considering the circumstances.
"It's fine," Norway said, speaking for him. Then, looking to Denmark, he repeated, " It's fine," more firmly. Though he couldn't be sure, Denmark had a feeling that was meant as a go-ahead. He licked his lips, looked to Sweden again, and nodded.
"Right. So, then. What d'you say to me 'n you showin' Nor a good time?"
Sweden coloured, then muttered his agreement before wordlessly taking Norway by the hand; Norway, who Denmark realized, was looking at him and smiling.
Without further hesitation, they guided him to his bedroom.
Norway slipped into the room first, going to the window to open the blinds. For a moment he stood looking out at the bright night, the moonlight washing over his face and making him pale. Then he turned toward Sweden and Denmark, sweeping his eyes over the two of them. "No need for a lamp tonight," he said. Then he strode across the floor, and in a second he was in their arms.
They took turns as they stripped him and their selves, working slowly, their movements smooth and coordinated. Norway barely went a second without someone's mouth on his lips or his neck, someone whispering in his ear, someone's hands sliding along his sides, stroking his hips.
Denmark grinned as the last piece of clothing fell to the floor. It was amazing what a little teamwork could do. They could do things right, sometimes, some things, once in a while. So far the only hitch had been in Norway's breathing, and if everything went right that night, it would stay that way.
They guided Norway to his bed and settled down with him. This was something they had talked about too, how to handle it, how to go about it. Denmark hadn't been kidding when they had told Norway that he and Sweden had thought of everything. They had discussed the entire process in minute detail, and the reason behind it was simple: they wanted their plan to work, and for it to work, they had to agree on everything. They had to strategize and decide their roles - and that was exactly what they had done.
So there was no need to say anything as they settled down on the mattress, as Denmark braced his back against the headboard, as they eased Norway into his lap. Denmark, to what he hoped would be his credit, held his tongue and concentrated on the task at hand and on Norway's skin under his fingertips. Not a single word was exchanged between them. And - just as he had told Norway - he and Sweden hardly touched except for the graze of hands on hands as they slid their fingertips over him.
Norway was the one who spoke first. "Goin' better'n I thought." His muttering had a surprised hint to it and Denmark couldn't help but smile as he pressed a kiss against Norway's neck. He could feel Sweden moving as he shifted to cup Norway's chin in his hand and kiss him long and deep, almost as if to say, "We told you". Denmark sighed, trailed his hands over Norway's hips as he listened to him moan against Sweden's mouth and felt him relax in his arms. That quiet, muffled noise had almost sounded like Norway admitting defeat.
When that kiss finally broke Norway's breath was quickened and uneven. He shivered and rested back against Denmark, a pleased hum slipping out of him as Denmark kissed his hair, turning his eyes to Sweden. In the dim light, Sweden's minute nodding was barely visible, and Denmark could only just make it out. Still, there was no denying what it meant. 'Yes'.
Okay.
"So, Nor," Denmark said, speaking as quietly as he could. "How about it. You just lay back and relax, 'n leave all the work to us."
Norway took a moment to answer. Though he couldn't see it, Denmark had a feeling that he had that close-lipped, cool-eyed look about him, the kind he sometimes got when he was being contrary for seemingly no other reason than the sake of being contrary. Maybe he was thinking it over - but, Denmark thought with exasperation, how much did they really have to do to prove that they were ready for this? Seeming to think the same thing, Sweden moved to nuzzle at Norway as if to ask him, 'Well? How about it?'
This won't do, Denmark thought, pressing his face into Norway's hair. It would just figure that Norway would pick a moment like this to be weird about it. For a split second he thought about it, then decided what to do. Lightly, nonchalantly, he trailed his fingertips over Norway's hips again. He heard the gasp he had been hoping for and grinned, knowing Norway couldn't see it.
"Okay." The word was barely audible, breathed more than spoken. "Think that'd be all right." With his usual habit of understatement, Norway gave in at last.
Get him worked up, Sweden and Denmark had agreed. Get Norway worked up enough and he'll be in no mood to protest, question, or even criticize. Just follow the plan.
It was a matter of waiting; waiting while Sweden delivered Norway firm, deep kisses to get him pliant, get him ready. Kiss him, Denmark had said when they discussed it. He likes that. Sweden agreed. Kiss him and I'll take care of the rest.
Well. That was easy. Denmark could be patient and wait while Sweden kept Norway occupied. It wasn't difficult at all to find his own ways to amuse himself, pressing kisses over Norway's neck and shoulders, trailing his hands along his hips, his thighs, looking to get a reaction, looking to hit the right spots, the places that would make him shiver and gasp against Sweden's mouth and press back into him. With each slight tremor, Denmark knew he was getting through to him.
After a while he slid his hand between Norway's legs, his lips curling into a satisfied grin as he heard Norway moan at his touch. Not to get competitive, of course. They'd agreed on that. But, Denmark thought as he curled his fingers and slowly stroked him, it felt good knowing that even if Norway's mouth was currently occupied, Denmark could still distract him and draw out those sounds he loved hearing.
It wasn't long before they broke that kiss. Norway's head fell back to rest against Denmark's shoulder as Sweden began to slowly move downward. Denmark moved too, his gestures calculated as he let go and trailed his hands along Norway's thighs, the gentle pressure hinting at what he needed. Norway didn't utter a word as he took the hint and spread his legs, pliant to Denmark's touch, and he didn't say anything as Denmark brushed kisses along his neck, as Sweden trailed downward with lips and tongue. It wasn't until Sweden reached his destination that Norway made noise, a word gasped out as Sweden's tongue slid over the head of his cock. Maybe it was an oath, or maybe it was just yes. Denmark refrained from commenting, and instead pressed his face against Norway's neck and touched him all over, gently pressing his fingers along the spots he knew would make Norway shiver, and was rewarded in kind with gasps and tremors, though those were, he supposed, as much as result of Sweden's efforts as anything else. He felt Norway shift a bit and murmur something, "More", as he cupped the back of Sweden's head, giving gentle pressure to encourage him, urging him to take more of his cock into his mouth and suck him off harder. Evidently, Sweden complied, because Norway gasped his next words out, a breathless, "Yes, like that."
Denmark found himself wishing he were in a position to see Norway's face. He probably looked amazing.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate with the way Norway was reacting, to say nothing of the way his own body was reacting. Denmark made an effort regardless, brushing his fingers along Norway's face, making him turn his head enough so he could kiss him. Norway moaned against his mouth, moaning deeper still as Denmark slid his fingers through his hair and twined his fingers in it, wrapping around the flyaway curl at the base of Norway's neck. He was pliant against him, and while Denmark knew that a great deal of the case was Sweden's diligent work down below, it was his own actions that caused the parting of Norway's lips and the hunger in that kiss, Denmark was sure.
If only he could see him properly. Well, it didn't matter, really.
They broke the kiss and lingered close, their lips damp and their breath shaking. Finally, Denmark ventured the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since the moment they had stepped into the bedroom. "So, Nor," he whispered, his lips grazing Norway's mouth as he spoke. "How about it? Both of us."
Norway kissed him again before murmuring a response that was deep and breathy and just barely loud enough for the both of them to hear him. "Yes."
Yes.
Even with the closeness enough to be bothersome under any other circumstances, Denmark and Sweden found that they could ignore it in favour of pleasuring Norway. It meant that they would have him. They would both have him.
They worked together to guide him back, easing him and touching him with strong, careful fingers, Denmark's mouth on his throat and Sweden's hands on his thighs, gently pushing them apart, spreading him open wide. Norway was soft to their touch as he moved with them and let them touch him. All the while, both of them were very aware that he was allowing it. All of it happened only because he allowed it.
Even with the previous contact rousing him, Norway was relaxed and at ease under their gentle ministrations, and this was all for the better. It meant that he was unresisting to the slick fingers sliding inside of him; in fact he welcomed it, rocking into that touch and making soft noises as if to say yes, go on, get on with it, moaning as those big fingers slid in deeper. It was hard to resist that, but Denmark knew that neither of them were about to give in, not yet. They would need him slick and open and ready, the both of them.
Soon, Denmark thought. He was ready for it, had been ready for quite a while, and the waiting was getting to him. He suspected that Sweden was no less impatient than he was himself, and to say nothing of Norway, too. But they had to wait for this. They had to ease him into it.
The idea had surprised Denmark when Sweden first suggested it, at least to begin with. He'd asked if he was sure, but Sweden had been serious when he said that he knew for a fact that Norway liked this kind of thing. Half-joking, Denmark had tried to get him to say if he knew from experience; and at that, Sweden had simply blushed in response and tried to turn the subject back to Norway's fantasies. That was answer enough for Denmark. He knew that Sweden had done it with him, and he didn't need to ask who had helped him.
Norway had told him about it once, Sweden had said when they'd been together one night, drinking and not really thinking about what either of them were saying. Norway had said it. He'd said that he wanted them, both of them at the same time. Denmark had pulled a face at that, and Sweden as well, but Denmark had to admit that he wasn't at all surprised. He remembered Norway whispering to him once, sometime after they'd fucked and were resting together. He'd said that he liked resting back and letting someone fuck him, and that he liked feeling so full. And Denmark knew, without even having to think about it, that when it came to himself and Sweden, Norway couldn't - wouldn't - choose between them. He was the one who flipped a coin when given the option of either of them. It was no wonder that he wanted both of them.
In Norway's bedroom the discussion was coming to fruition. Norway was warm in Denmark's arms and Sweden was much too close. Denmark pressed his face against Norway's neck and tried to concentrate only on him and the sound of his quick breathing as he slid his fingers in and out of him. On the way that breathing was muffled when Sweden kissed him, soft and slow. On the high, needy sound Norway made against Sweden's mouth before he broke the kiss and breathed a word too quiet for Denmark to hear. He understood what he meant regardless. The word had been an order, not a request. Denmark looked past Norway's neck to Sweden, who met his gaze wordlessly, kissed Norway again, then moved.
With great care they took him in their hands, moving him and shifting so Denmark could slide his cock inside of Norway. They did it slowly - so as to ease the going, and so Norway could savour it. Denmark braced himself back against the pillows and the headboard, his hands steady on Norway's hips, thankful for the dark as it gave him little reason to be envious of Sweden's position. With the lack of light, the amazing view Sweden otherwise would have had was negated.
Denmark bit his lip and held back a moan as Norway rocked down against him. This was what he liked. Just this, the two of them. It would have been perfect. He heard Norway whisper something too low for him to hear properly, and he knew it was meant for Sweden. He knew what would happen next.
For Norway, Denmark could deal with it. They both could. He waited while they kissed and touched and tried to lose himself in the rhythm of Norway's slow, cautious rocking. After a breath-shaking moment, he heard the word that they had been anticipating.
"Now." Norway's soft murmuring seemed louder than it really was, pressing in on them in the close, heated darkness. All three of them paused, their hands stilling, not a sound heard except for quick, heavy breathing. Denmark was sure that Sweden was looking at him.
As if passing an agreement between them, they moved, carefully sliding inside of him - together. Norway made no sound of complaint, only letting out one soft murmur before sighing again and shifting to aid them. Denmark kissed his neck and waited as Sweden pressed closer to him. It was too close. Much too close. He shivered as he felt their cocks slide against one another. But with Norway between them, it was all right. It was fine.
Norway was tight and as they started to slowly fuck him Denmark wondered if he finally had that fullness that he seemed to crave. If this was what he wanted. The way he rocked carefully down onto the both of them plainly showed his satisfaction, and the sounds he made were pleasured, even eager. Norway wasn't the kind to beg for more; he was the kind to demand it.
Denmark closed his eyes and slid one of his hands between Norway's legs and drew out more of those soft, pretty sounds. He tried to concentrate on that and on him and on the way Norway shivered and moaned as he rocked down onto him again, and tried to pay no mind to the fact that the tightness wasn't only because Norway was tight. There was a heat that wasn't Norway's heat pressing to him, a closeness coming too close in the way Denmark's hands brushed against Sweden's as they both held Norway, touching him and steadying him and embracing him. Denmark closed his eyes and tried to ignore Sweden's breathing, slowly becoming more erratic, more heated, and the way their cocks rubbed against each other inside Norway in an act of close frottage.
He ignored it, even though he liked it. Even though it felt good. Even though his own breathing was becoming steadily quicker too.
As they thrust up into him Norway let out a gasp, shuddering, murmuring some half-formed word of approval. Denmark buried his face in Norway's hair. He was tight, tense, wound up, feeling the heat rolling off Norway as he rocked up into him again. He realized - as Norway murmured something and turned his head to graze his lips against Denmark's cheek, as Sweden kissed Norway's neck and made him moan softly, rock down onto the both of them more eagerly - he realized that it really was the both of them that Norway wanted. He wanted both of them touching him, kissing him, fucking him. This was what Norway wanted, what made him turn his head to kiss Denmark again, what made him cling to Sweden and keen against Denmark's mouth as their cocks slid deeper inside of him, what made him slide his hand between his legs to touch himself.
He wanted both of them. He got off on it. He never could choose between them, and now he didn't have to.
Something stirred in Denmark as he realized this. He and Sweden had been right all along, but they hadn't realized just how right.
There was nothing hotter than Norway getting off. When he saw just how much Norway wanted it, the way he shivered and moaned as he rolled his hips while the both of them moved in him, Denmark could hardly last much longer. To judge by the shuddering breaths Sweden was taking, he was close too. Their hands brushed just once as they slid over Norway's body and though he was half-dazed from the feeling of Norway in his arms Denmark made a decision. He steadied and slid his hand along Norway's hip, moved to cover Sweden's hand where it stayed holding Norway, grounding him, strong.
Sweden's hand twitched underneath his own, and Denmark knew he understood. Sure enough, after a moment Sweden moved and their fingers linked, knitting together, and though normally neither of them could stand the thought of touching hands with one another, it was worth it when Norway gasped, wound up even more by the knowledge that they were touching. He made a soft noise, some half-coherent whisper as he rocked hard down onto them, too low and breathy for Denmark to make it out. He didn't care. It was worth it to see the way he reacted as they held him and touched him - together.
Almost anything was worth hearing Norway and the things he gasped out as they fucked him together. Half-whispered words, some of them curses, others which sounded like names. Denmark's. Sweden's. Denmark gripped Sweden's hand even as they held Norway together, and kissed at Norway's neck, groaning as he thrust up into him. All of it was slow, too slow, and the friction was too much, the heat, the pressing and the presence of Sweden, and of Norway between them. Heat. Press. Breathing. Their cocks sliding together. Sweden was too present, much too present, but Norway was completely undone between them, his head lolled back against Denmark's shoulder while the gasps slipped out of his bruised lips, one arm wrapped around Sweden to cling to him while he touched himself. Denmark slid one hand up to tangle it in Norway's hair, stroking it and winding it in his fingers, and the sound Norway made under that touch was enough to push him over, releasing inside of him with a groan.
Denmark still held Norway after that. With his breath still unsteady, he gripped his hair and turned his head so he could kiss him, muffling with his mouth the soft sounds he made as Sweden fucked him. He could feel Norway as he moved, rocking his hips, tense and taught and close, so close. Denmark would bet anything that he was digging his nails into Sweden's shoulders, judging from the way Sweden hissed and groaned as he thrust up into Norway. He knew it, if he knew Norway at all. Dipping his head, he abandoned Norway's mouth in favour of kissing his neck, holding him steady by the hip, his fingers still locked with Sweden's fingers. The moan Norway made at that was low and breathy and Denmark knew that the sound was what drove Sweden to finish, gripping tightly at his hand as he came with a groan and crashed his lips against Norway's mouth to silence himself.
Denmark took a deep breath and drew Norway closer, holding him as he worked to bring him over. Sweden in no state for it, his mouth still pressed to Norway's mouth, holding him steady and kissing him hard. Denmark slid his hand between Norway's legs, took his cock in his hand. He heard a gasp as Norway rocked into it, eager and almost desperate. Close. Unsteadily, he carefully let go of Sweden's hand in favour of touching Norway's hair. He took that slim flyaway curl between his fingers and stroked, and that was the end of it. As Norway came, gasping, his sounds muffled against Sweden's mouth, Denmark held him and touched him and stroked him until he eased in his arms, broke Sweden's kiss, and rested back against him, his breath unsteady before gradually, finally slowing.
In the minutes that followed none of them said a word. They remained wrapped together in the dark even after they could finally relax, their breaths steady, their heads clear. It was too warm as they held one another, staying close, Norway's head resting on Denmark's shoulder, Denmark's face pressed to his hair, and Sweden with his arms wrapped Norway, sighing and nuzzling at his cheek. Eventually Denmark realized that he had taken Sweden's hand again, and Sweden hadn't made any move to let go.
Their hands stayed that way, their fingers loosely knitted together, and when they finally did let go, it was because Norway moved, shifting in their arms, murmuring tiredly that it was getting late, and that maybe they should get cleaned up. When they did let go of each other, it was too quickly. Denmark couldn't see Sweden's eyes in the dark, not quite, but he could feel him looking at him. For a moment, they both hesitated, and then their hands brushed again, touched, and held tight, just for a second.
It was an agreement, and one that they both understood. The night had been a success, all of it. The quiet sigh Norway made as they took turns delivering him a long, lasting kiss confirmed it.
Denmark rested in Norway's bed and listened to the sound of him breathing in the dark. It was a slow sound, relaxed, in and out, uneven. Norway wasn't sleeping.
He and Sweden had wedged Norway between them with the excuse that he was the smallest of the three. That excuse was one they had been using since the old days, but Norway still readily agreed to it. After they had cleaned up, emerging from the shower smelling like soap, Norway had fallen upon the sheets, rested back, and ordered the two of them to get to sleep because he wasn't about to wait on them, and he couldn't be having with the prospect of being exhausted in the morning either, what with having things that needed doing on his national day. In spite of his words, the way he sighed when they slid their arms around him made clear what he really wanted.
Denmark thought about it, and wondered if he had always wanted it. If he had always liked it like this, the three of them.
Probably not, he reminded himself. It wasn't difficult to recall the past and the way they had been over the centuries. No, probably not, all things considered. But now... Now, it was different.
It was completely different.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Norway stirred slowly and carefully beside him, as if trying not to disturb either of them. Denmark hesitated for only a second, then slid his hand over, grazing his fingertips against Norway's bare skin before touching one of his hands. 'See?' the gesture said. 'I'm awake too'.
Norway's breathing paused at that touch, his shoulders tensing, then with a sigh he relaxed and took Denmark's hand. For a while they stayed together that way. There was no need to say anything. Norway traced slow circles on Denmark's hand with his thumb and Denmark barely even breathed, biting down on his lip as he tried to stay quiet for him because that was what Norway liked. Quiet. Sometimes he liked it too much - it wasn't always good for a person, or so Denmark thought. But for this moment, in the dark and the quiet, he could abide.
Norway was the one who spoke first. His voice was soft, his lips near Denmark's ear, brushing against it as he whispered to him. "Sometimes your ideas aren't bad," he said.
Denmark could feel heat creeping over his cheeks, his neck, his ears. Come on, he told himself. You shouldn't be blushing at your age. He took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Wasn't just my idea," he said as quietly as he could.
He felt Norway move a bit in his arms as he turned to slide a hand over to Sweden. Though he couldn't see it Denmark was sure that Norway was taking his hand and checking to see if he was awake. There was no response from Sweden except for a sigh and movement as he turned over in his sleep. Satisfied with that, Norway pressed close to Denmark again and rested his head against his shoulder.
"No," he said. "It wasn't."
Denmark listened to him, thinking that he would go on, but Norway didn't say anything else. Instead he trailed his fingertips along his wrist. Norway's fingers were cold and Denmark took his hand, cupped it in his own to warm it. Even when cold, he appreciated the familiar shape of Norway's fingers linked with his own, their palms pressed together.
He tried to think of what to say. It had to be the right thing for once rather than something that Norway would roll his eyes at. He rubbed that chilled hand, kissed it, and tried to come up with something.
"Hey, Nor-"
Two fingers pressed against his lips, and Denmark stopped talking, blinking curiously at Norway.
Without a word, Norway lifted his head and kissed him.
Maybe, Denmark thought as Norway silently pinned him against the mattress, maybe he didn't have to say anything.
He didn't have to say anything at all.
The End