Bored
Title: Bored
Author/Artist: Me!
Rating: It’s very suggestive. Not M, but not exactly not either. Let’s call it T, though. I suck at ratings.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): SuFin! :D
Warnings: No actual smut. I know. Sad times.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Hetalia. Or anything by Stieg Larsson.
Summary: Finland is bored and has an idea. Sweden just wants to read.
I threw this together in about 15 minutes, which is why there’s no smut and there are probably a billion typos. Just a quick idea because it’s SUFIN SUNDAY and I had to write something.
I feel like I’ve been in a rut a bit. I think it’s that damn HP fic’s fault. I’ve tried so many different approaches and I like none of them and I think I’m not going to worry about it because it’s not fun anymore. I'm big on fun. Why write something I'm not enjoying writing? No motivation, you know? Maybe later.
-&-&-
Finland only had one word to describe his current state of mind: bored.
He was so bored. There was nothing to do. He sighed and flopped on the couch like a lazy person.
He could read or he could browse the internet, or he could try cooking a new recipe. He could write Sealand a letter-Sealand had decided to visit Latvia, and had fortunately missed the gigantic snowstorm that was making Finland so restless.
Snow was pretty, of course, but it had felt like forever since Finland had gone outside to do something productive.
He’d already played with Hanatamago, and the dog was taking a nap. Finland supposed he could take a nap, but he didn’t feel like taking a nap. He didn’t know what he wanted to do.
Sweden was reading. Calmly. Like this was an everyday occurrence (okay, it was, but for some reason this particular storm was giving Finland a hellish bout of cabin fever.)
He was so bored. Ugh. Nothing on the TV, nothing to read, nothing to do.
Damn Sweden for looking so peaceful over there. Finland gazed across the room where his love was sitting by the fire, engrossed in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Apparently he was reading the English version for kicks. Maybe Sweden was bored, too?
Finland stretched.
Sweden didn’t notice.
Finland began to hum a soft tune.
Sweden glanced up at him, but only for a quick moment before returning to his book-Finland was watching his movements out of the corner of his eye.
Finland yawned, perhaps a bit over-dramatically.
Sweden didn’t respond.
Finland rolled onto his stomach.
No response.
Finland kicked his feet up and waved them back and forth-a glimmer of a response, but only momentarily.
Then Finland had an idea. Okay, it was a slightly devious idea, but if Sve was rereading a book Finland knew he’d read a gazillion times in a different language just to pass the time he really couldn’t feel too bad about his plan.
It was an experiment, Finland decided. An experiment in um, something. Something valuable. Yes.
Fuck, it wasn’t an experiment at all. Finland just felt like seducing Sweden.
-&-&-
Sweden knew what was coming, he knew who the killer was and yet even in translation Larsson still had a hold of him.
He was proud to have such a talented citizen, and he was always slightly amazed at how deeply he was sucked into the mystery. He’d read this book so many times and new details still snapped into place.
He was at the part-well, he didn’t want to spoil it. But he was at a really good part.
He devoured the words eagerly, and flipped through the book thoroughly entrenched.
And then a piece of fabric hit him in the face. Sweden jumped, a little shocked to be jolted so unexpectedly from his beloved story. The fabric slid down and stopped on his chest. Finland’s… boxers…?
Sweden blinked, and looked across the room at the couch where Finland had been. At least the last time he checked.
Finland was lying on his back completely naked, a seductive smirk on his lips. His eyes were half-lidded with a come-hither demand burning in them.
Sweden forgot all about the book.
“Hey Sve.” Finland whispered, but Sweden could hear it clearly. The only other noise in the room was the blazing fire. “I’m cold.”
“…Put on some clothes?” Sweden managed to say.
Finland looked away innocently. “I lost them.”
“Really.”
Finland nodded, turning and giving Sweden an eyeful and generally being a wanton little tramp.
Sweden leaned forward and did his best to sound truly concerned. “That’s a problem.”
“It is.”
“Need a blanket?”
“No.”
“I could make soup.”
“Not really hungry.”
“Hot chocolate?”
“Sve…” Finland whined.
“You’re really hot.” Sweden caved, finally eyeing his wife’s body hungrily.
Finland couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“Oh, Sve. Get over here.”
Author/Artist: Me!
Rating: It’s very suggestive. Not M, but not exactly not either. Let’s call it T, though. I suck at ratings.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): SuFin! :D
Warnings: No actual smut. I know. Sad times.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Hetalia. Or anything by Stieg Larsson.
Summary: Finland is bored and has an idea. Sweden just wants to read.
I threw this together in about 15 minutes, which is why there’s no smut and there are probably a billion typos. Just a quick idea because it’s SUFIN SUNDAY and I had to write something.
I feel like I’ve been in a rut a bit. I think it’s that damn HP fic’s fault. I’ve tried so many different approaches and I like none of them and I think I’m not going to worry about it because it’s not fun anymore. I'm big on fun. Why write something I'm not enjoying writing? No motivation, you know? Maybe later.
-&-&-
Finland only had one word to describe his current state of mind: bored.
He was so bored. There was nothing to do. He sighed and flopped on the couch like a lazy person.
He could read or he could browse the internet, or he could try cooking a new recipe. He could write Sealand a letter-Sealand had decided to visit Latvia, and had fortunately missed the gigantic snowstorm that was making Finland so restless.
Snow was pretty, of course, but it had felt like forever since Finland had gone outside to do something productive.
He’d already played with Hanatamago, and the dog was taking a nap. Finland supposed he could take a nap, but he didn’t feel like taking a nap. He didn’t know what he wanted to do.
Sweden was reading. Calmly. Like this was an everyday occurrence (okay, it was, but for some reason this particular storm was giving Finland a hellish bout of cabin fever.)
He was so bored. Ugh. Nothing on the TV, nothing to read, nothing to do.
Damn Sweden for looking so peaceful over there. Finland gazed across the room where his love was sitting by the fire, engrossed in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Apparently he was reading the English version for kicks. Maybe Sweden was bored, too?
Finland stretched.
Sweden didn’t notice.
Finland began to hum a soft tune.
Sweden glanced up at him, but only for a quick moment before returning to his book-Finland was watching his movements out of the corner of his eye.
Finland yawned, perhaps a bit over-dramatically.
Sweden didn’t respond.
Finland rolled onto his stomach.
No response.
Finland kicked his feet up and waved them back and forth-a glimmer of a response, but only momentarily.
Then Finland had an idea. Okay, it was a slightly devious idea, but if Sve was rereading a book Finland knew he’d read a gazillion times in a different language just to pass the time he really couldn’t feel too bad about his plan.
It was an experiment, Finland decided. An experiment in um, something. Something valuable. Yes.
Fuck, it wasn’t an experiment at all. Finland just felt like seducing Sweden.
-&-&-
Sweden knew what was coming, he knew who the killer was and yet even in translation Larsson still had a hold of him.
He was proud to have such a talented citizen, and he was always slightly amazed at how deeply he was sucked into the mystery. He’d read this book so many times and new details still snapped into place.
He was at the part-well, he didn’t want to spoil it. But he was at a really good part.
He devoured the words eagerly, and flipped through the book thoroughly entrenched.
And then a piece of fabric hit him in the face. Sweden jumped, a little shocked to be jolted so unexpectedly from his beloved story. The fabric slid down and stopped on his chest. Finland’s… boxers…?
Sweden blinked, and looked across the room at the couch where Finland had been. At least the last time he checked.
Finland was lying on his back completely naked, a seductive smirk on his lips. His eyes were half-lidded with a come-hither demand burning in them.
Sweden forgot all about the book.
“Hey Sve.” Finland whispered, but Sweden could hear it clearly. The only other noise in the room was the blazing fire. “I’m cold.”
“…Put on some clothes?” Sweden managed to say.
Finland looked away innocently. “I lost them.”
“Really.”
Finland nodded, turning and giving Sweden an eyeful and generally being a wanton little tramp.
Sweden leaned forward and did his best to sound truly concerned. “That’s a problem.”
“It is.”
“Need a blanket?”
“No.”
“I could make soup.”
“Not really hungry.”
“Hot chocolate?”
“Sve…” Finland whined.
“You’re really hot.” Sweden caved, finally eyeing his wife’s body hungrily.
Finland couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“Oh, Sve. Get over here.”