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It wasn't something you really thought about, until all of a sudden you couldn't.
Canada arched on the hotel bed, mouth slightly open as his lungs fought to draw in air. His chest was burning, head spinning, heart pounding in time with the throbbing in his throat and cock and ass. (Some small corner of his mind wondered dizzily how Netherlands had managed to time his thrusts exactly to the pounding of Canada's heart, and he had to fight down the hysterical urge to giggle.)
He shuddered, tilting his head back and feeling the soft scarf tighten around his neck. He would have mewled, if he'd had the breath, one leg shifting to wrap more firmly around Netherlands' hips.
Above him, Netherlands licked his lips, admiring the view but careful not to let himself get carried away. They'd been at this for a few years now, off and on, and he knew just exactly how much give the knit scarf had. (He was still a little amazed that Canada had returned to him at all, after that first disastrous time when Netherlands had overestimated his own strength and underestimated how much the scarf would stretch before turning as immobile as rope.)
Netherlands' eyes sharpened and immediately darted upward when Canada tapped his knuckles against the wall where they were bound at the headboard with the other end of the long scarf. Once, twice, three times.
Netherlands stilled his hips, loosening the scarf and pulling it away from Canada's throat, trying not to be too concerned as Canada gasped in a couple deep breaths. Netherlands watched carefully as the color returned to Canada's cheeks and lips, and after a minute the younger Nation opened his eyes and offered Netherlands a wane smile.
"More," Canada rasped, voice not quite normal after being choked. Netherlands' eyebrows rose, and Canada gave a soft laugh, rocking his hips up and wringing a groan out of his partner. "C'mon, more. I won't break like some pretty Lolita."
Netherlands groaned again, and leaned down enough to give him a light kiss. "You and America are pretty alike sometimes, y'know?"
Canada nipped at his lower lip in reprimand, though his voice lacked any real malice. "Bite your tongue."
"I'd rather bite yours," Netherlands murmured, and then wrapped the tail end of the scarf around his hand to get a better grip as he pulled it tight again. Canada managed a soft moan before his air was cut off, and squirmed rather deliciously. Netherlands gave a rather breathless chuckle of his own and rolled his hips in another thrust, making Canada arch off the bed.
It was good, Canada thought hazily. So good. He knew Netherlands would be careful, Canada trusted him enough that he could let go, give in to the dizziness and the way his vision would fragment and fuzz and then sparkle blue and white, just like the stripes on Netherlands' scarf. He tried to moan again, trembling with need, and it sent a shock of lust straight through him when he found he couldn't. He tried to gasp Netherlands' name, found he couldn't do that either, would have cried out in relief when he felt the scarf tighten just a fraction more.
Netherlands shifted his hips on the next thrust, just enough, and Canada's world exploded into stars and sparkles and a delicious burn all through his body, lack of oxygen making him feel dizzy and high and as though he was just going to float away somewhere. He only dimly registered that Netherlands was still rocking into him, when he tensed with his own release.