Past-Part Fills Part 7

[hetalia_kink]

Past-Part Fills Part Seven

Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part MUST go in that part's post until it is full.

Include a link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).

The 'Anything Goes' request is here if you need it.

Then, don't forget to link your new fill at the fill index and under the original request.

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Comments and Suggestions go here.

Past-Part Fills 1 | Past-Part Fills 2 | Past-Part Fills 3 | Past-Part Fills 4 | Past-Part Fills 5 | Past-Part Fills 6

Comments

Warmth in Reserve [2/5]

[(Anonymous)]

Eventually, Norway finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed. He slides the clip out of his hair and sets it on the bedside table. Then he looks up at Germany and raises an eyebrow. Well?

One hand dips to cup his chin and tilt it up, the gesture more gentle than might be expected. With the other hand, Germany carefully tucks behind his ear the strands that fell in his face in the clip's absence. Then, after hesitating for a moment, he slides his fingers through Norway's hair.

He closes his eyes. Bites back a comment. Part of him wants to tell him to get on with it, to stop screwing around, but it's a small part. The rest doesn't mind it. Over the years, he's caught on to the fact that Germany likes touching his hair, and he isn't about to stop him if that's what he wants. Not when he's doing him a favour like this.

So he waits. Lets him slide his fingers through it. Waits as he pauses, again, to tuck back a bit as it falls in his face. Waits until that touch drops away, and even then he doesn't open his eyes. He raises one hand, signalling to him, and waits.

Germany places the earplugs in his palm without a word, and Norway dutifully puts them in.

He opens his eyes, looks up at Germany, and waits. Again, Germany cups his face. Again, he touches his hair. Then he turns to reach for the cloth blindfold that Norway set out on the bedside table earlier that evening. As Germany carefully unfolds it, he looks at Norway. His lips don't move, and he doesn't say anything, but the way he tilts his head slightly is a question, and Norway answers it with a nod.

Yes, he's ready.

In a moment, he sees nothing but the black fabric over his eyes.



Even when blinded and unable to hear, Norway isn't helpless. This is his home, and this is his bed, and he could easily get himself arranged on his own.

This is what he tells himself. But Germany has always insisted on guiding him. Maybe it is because he wants to ensure that there are no slip-ups, or maybe he's troubled by the thought of watching Norway grope blindly, moving slowly and cautiously to find his place on the bed. It can be an uneasy sight if that isn't what you're into.

Regardless, it is the same now as it always has been: he feels large, gentle hands rest lightly on his shoulders. Norway tenses for a second - no matter how many times they do this, the contact always feels too sudden - and finally he relaxes under the touch. After that, he lets Germany guide him, bending to his hands as his partner gently but firmly directs him where to go until finally he's comfortably on his back, sprawled at the centre of the bed.

Breathing in, out, in, Norway takes in what he's still aware of in his current state. Unable to see or hear, he's left with the other senses. Bed sheets against his bare skin. The way the mattress dips when Germany sets himself upon it. He is still dressed, and the fabric feels almost rough against Norway's thigh. For a moment, they barely touch; then Germany carefully takes him by the wrists and guides his hands toward the headboard.

As Germany ties him down Norway breathes in again, takes in the scent of him. Soap. And something deeper, warm and almost musky. Cologne, maybe. He wets his lips. The fabric straps that Germany uses to bind him to the headboard are old, they have seen many uses, they're soft against his wrists, and Germany's hands are firm but gentle.

He waits while Germany ties him, then waits again while he checks the straps. The brush of fingertips against his cheek is a question, asking if he's comfortable, and Norway nods. Then the contact disappears, but Germany doesn't move from his place. Norway can still feel him, his presence over him, the weight of his body on top of him and on the mattress. The warmth of his body is welcome against the chill of the room.

There is something he wants. For a second, Norway wonders if he should ask for it. He shouldn't, he isn't supposed to at times like this - though he was the one who put down that rule himself, and Germany only agreed to it. But it might be that right now Germany wants the same thing. Norway doesn't know why he hasn't moved, why he's still lingering above him as if he's watching him, or maybe as if he wants to say something even if Norway can't hear it. But maybe, Norway thinks, he wants the same thing and doesn't know how to ask it of him.

Norway licks his lips, then parts them, tilting his head back to arch upward as if offering. For a moment, there is nothing; then he feels movement, and then the gentle brush of contact as Germany's mouth meets his own.

He sighs into the kiss, even if he doesn't mean to, and relaxes beneath Germany's body. Even if he doesn't need this in order to go through with the rest, even if he doesn't need this in order to be comfortable, Norway can't deny that he likes it. As Germany's tongue slides over his lower lip Norway can't help but groan softly and open up for him.

He tells himself that he is offering himself, but he knows that it isn't true. You're indulging yourself with this, he thinks, chiding himself as their tongues brush and he moans against Germany's mouth. This kind of thing isn't the point of this whole thing, is it, that isn't why you're tied down like this, it isn't why he blindfolded you, it isn't why you can't hear a damn thing.

It's true. Norway knows it. But for as long as Germany kisses him, he ignores it. Ignores it and indulges himself and takes in the sensation of Germany's lips and tongue. If it were up to him, he'd let it linger. But now that he's tied down and blindfolded, it isn't up to him.