When Finland came back that evening, he was tenser than ever. Sweden was ready to call it a night but Finland pushed him back into the bed and straddled him, giving him no time to question before rough lips claimed his. Sweden didn't understand, Finland's body was both reluctant and eager at the same time. And the way he touched, it was so foreign, so unlike his usual soft and warm caresses. This Finland was all want and demands, and while Sweden was still somewhat confused, he would have been lying if he claimed that it didn't have an effect on his body.
After all, how could he deny his lover anything? Finland was under him, clinging to him, all naked slender limbs and soft skin. And then it all went horribly wrong.
Sweden was just one push of hips away from entering his lover when Finland went shock-still in his arms. Before he realised what was happening, Finland had flipped them over with a blood-chilling screech and wrapped his fingers around Sweden's throat.
The edges of Sweden's vision blurred. All he saw was Finland's face above his, contorted in a mixture of fear and rage. "No! I won't--! I won't be taken again!" he screamed. His fingers tightened their grip and he began to shake Sweden, choking him harder and harder.
Sweden tried to push Finland off, but his hold on the other's wrists seemed to slip every time he gained a grip. His body twisted underneath Finland's, trying to dislodge him, but somehow the smaller man managed to hold on no matter what he did. Any arousal from before was long gone, and all Sweden felt was - yes, a cold fear in the pit of his stomach.
He couldn't remember ever being afraid of Finland.
"F-Fin--" he tried to call out, but in response the strangling only tightened. Sweden gurgled, gasping for breath. Finland's amethyst eyes gleamed above him, cold and harsh and merciless. "T-Ti-- TINO! STOP IT!"
It was as if a spell was broken. Suddenly Finland blinked and something shimmered in the depth of his eyes. He gasped sharply and the next moment his hands were withdrawn from Sweden's throat.
Sweden coughed violently, gulping down air all he could manage. He glanced at Finland, still rather wary, but all Finland did was sit there, looking thoroughly shocked as if he had been the one choked. Without another word he lifted himself off of Sweden and stood up from the bed.
"I... I'm sorry, Sweden. I can't do this." He spoke in a tiny voice, facing away from Sweden. The taller man could barely make his voice work again.
"Fin...?" he asked quietly, but the other nation ignored him and only hurried to pick up his discarded clothes and get out of the room. The door slammed shut a bit too loud for either of their liking, but Sweden made no motion to stand up and go after Finland. Whatever was wrong with Finland, Sweden would rather not dig too deep on it.
- - -
After that night Finland went missing for a long time. Sweden searched around the house every morning but there were no signs of the other man's presence. The house fell into such quiet Sweden wondered if Finland had meant his words more seriously than he'd thought. Had he left for good, to live on his own as an independent nation? The thought chilled Sweden.
It was three weeks later before Finland returned.
Sweden almost jumped when he heard the thunderous banging from the door. He ran to the entrance room, stopping right before reaching the door. He was being careless; how could he know who was on the other side, whether they were friend or foe? He looked around, hoping to have a reliable rifle at ready, but he'd promised himself not to keep guns, to not take part in the war storming around them.
In the end he settled for a sheath-knife he found in the kitchen (Finland's, determining from the engravings on the handle) and crept closer to the door.
"Who 's 't?" he shouted through the thick wood. The thumping paused for a moment and he heard a voice, but could not make out the words or recognise the voice. "Who - is - it?" he repeated, for once enunciating every syllable slowly. There was a slam on the door, so loud that he started, fearing whether the door would hold up.
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Snow and Blood. [2/5]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-06 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)After all, how could he deny his lover anything? Finland was under him, clinging to him, all naked slender limbs and soft skin. And then it all went horribly wrong.
Sweden was just one push of hips away from entering his lover when Finland went shock-still in his arms. Before he realised what was happening, Finland had flipped them over with a blood-chilling screech and wrapped his fingers around Sweden's throat.
The edges of Sweden's vision blurred. All he saw was Finland's face above his, contorted in a mixture of fear and rage. "No! I won't--! I won't be taken again!" he screamed. His fingers tightened their grip and he began to shake Sweden, choking him harder and harder.
Sweden tried to push Finland off, but his hold on the other's wrists seemed to slip every time he gained a grip. His body twisted underneath Finland's, trying to dislodge him, but somehow the smaller man managed to hold on no matter what he did. Any arousal from before was long gone, and all Sweden felt was - yes, a cold fear in the pit of his stomach.
He couldn't remember ever being afraid of Finland.
"F-Fin--" he tried to call out, but in response the strangling only tightened. Sweden gurgled, gasping for breath. Finland's amethyst eyes gleamed above him, cold and harsh and merciless. "T-Ti-- TINO! STOP IT!"
It was as if a spell was broken. Suddenly Finland blinked and something shimmered in the depth of his eyes. He gasped sharply and the next moment his hands were withdrawn from Sweden's throat.
Sweden coughed violently, gulping down air all he could manage. He glanced at Finland, still rather wary, but all Finland did was sit there, looking thoroughly shocked as if he had been the one choked. Without another word he lifted himself off of Sweden and stood up from the bed.
"I... I'm sorry, Sweden. I can't do this." He spoke in a tiny voice, facing away from Sweden. The taller man could barely make his voice work again.
"Fin...?" he asked quietly, but the other nation ignored him and only hurried to pick up his discarded clothes and get out of the room. The door slammed shut a bit too loud for either of their liking, but Sweden made no motion to stand up and go after Finland. Whatever was wrong with Finland, Sweden would rather not dig too deep on it.
- - -
After that night Finland went missing for a long time. Sweden searched around the house every morning but there were no signs of the other man's presence. The house fell into such quiet Sweden wondered if Finland had meant his words more seriously than he'd thought. Had he left for good, to live on his own as an independent nation? The thought chilled Sweden.
It was three weeks later before Finland returned.
Sweden almost jumped when he heard the thunderous banging from the door. He ran to the entrance room, stopping right before reaching the door. He was being careless; how could he know who was on the other side, whether they were friend or foe? He looked around, hoping to have a reliable rifle at ready, but he'd promised himself not to keep guns, to not take part in the war storming around them.
In the end he settled for a sheath-knife he found in the kitchen (Finland's, determining from the engravings on the handle) and crept closer to the door.
"Who 's 't?" he shouted through the thick wood. The thumping paused for a moment and he heard a voice, but could not make out the words or recognise the voice. "Who - is - it?" he repeated, for once enunciating every syllable slowly. There was a slam on the door, so loud that he started, fearing whether the door would hold up.