[Fic] Warmth
May. 12th, 2019 09:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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nordipaloozaTitle: Warmth
Author/Artist: Tintaglia / Thea
Prompt: Norway, Iceland - Anticipation (1900s or Modern Day)
Other characters: None
Rating: Mature
Content notes: Mature, but not Explicit. Norway and Iceland are referred to by country names, or "Nore" and "Ice" respectively.
Summary: Norway and Iceland spend a Christmas alone together, with wine. Features the two in a pairing.
Mod note: Crossposted from tumblr submissions. Read it on tumblr here.
Normally at Christmastime, they all spend time together. All of them make time out of their busy schedules, and Ice especially making extra time for travel, so they can all be together. This year, for whatever reason, it wasn’t like that. Everyone had something or other to do, Dan had a date, Sve had a new puppy he didn’t want to leave, and so on. Iceland had just accepted the eventuality of having to spend Christmas alone when Nore had called him (called, not texted), to ask in his quiet voice if Ice would consider spending Christmas at home with him, just the two of them.
Of course, he accepted. He was used to Nore doting on him specifically, more so than any of the others, but it still warmed him when the Norwegian seemed to know what he wanted, what he needed, before he even had to say anything. He also knew that Norway preferred to be alone for the most part, that Christmas was one of the few times he allowed the rest of them and their madness to invade his solitude. This year, he had a completely viable excuse to avoid seeing anyone, to have his Christmas alone, and he still reached out to Iceland. He couldn’t deny, it felt good to be wanted. It was similar to the feeling of seeing a cat out in the city, and reaching down to have it run to you. He felt happy, he felt chosen. Special, even.
Neither of them was overly fond of wine, but tonight there was plenty of it. Ice sat on the couch closest to the roaring fireplace, wrapped in a knitted blanket, sipping on a glass of something red and dry, waiting for Nore to fish out their next bottle from the kitchen. The fire and blanket kept him warm, but the wine made him dazed and sleepy in a happy sort of way. He was comfortable and fuzzy as a down comforter. Honestly, if he’d been anywhere else, he might not be this content, but since it was Nore’s house, he felt himself relaxing more and more.
“Nore, where are you? I’m out!” he exclaimed in a whine as he drank his last few sips. “Where did you go?”
“Here,” came the familiar voice behind him, as a bottle suddenly crossed his vision, the Norwegian man dangling it in front of his face.
“Perfect,” Ice replied, and snatched it just to take a swig directly from the bottle, ignoring Nore’s noise of protest. “It’s sweet.”
“Yes, and it belongs in a glass,” Nore said, and pulled it from his grasp, much to Iceland’s amusement.
“Yes, Sir,” Ice replied. He felt fuzzy, but he wasn’t so out of it to not notice the twin spots of pink on top of Nore’s cheeks as he walked around the couch to sit across from him. The thought that the other was embarrassed by those words, or better yet into it did funny things to the pit of Iceland’s stomach. It was like there was a coil inside his guts, twisting and tightening, and he liked it. It made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something, but he didn’t know what. He swallowed the last of the wine in his mouth, and it suddenly felt dry.
“Where did you get all these bottles from, anyway?” he asked. “You don’t like wine that much.”
Nore shrugged his shoulders, seemingly glad for the change of subject.
“I mentioned at work that I wasn’t spending Christmas with the family, but rather just one person in particular. For some reason, they all on their own decided to give me wine bottles. I didn’t even ask.”
He seemed so perplexed that Ice couldn’t help but laugh.
“They think you’ve got a hot date,” Ice said, still chuckling as he reached for the bottle again. Nore let him, and didn’t even complain when he took another drink from the bottle.
“Don’t I?” Nore said softly, causing Iceland to choke and sputter.
“Don’t you what?” he wheezed, placing the bottle down before he spilled it.
It was apparently Nore’s turn to chuckle at his predicament.
“Which part are you stuck on? The hot part or the date?”
“You think I’m hot?” Ice asked, making eye contact with the other, who in response gave him a soft smile.
“You’re an attractive person I suppose,” Nore said, demurring with a tilt of his head.
Normally, Iceland would never feel so bold, but with the wine in his system, he saw no reason not to slide off the couch and cross the few feet between them. Nore looked up as Iceland hovered over him, that blush back on his cheeks. For once, Ice felt powerful, somehow, he had affected his elder so much. Or maybe, it was just the wine. Still, Nore had invited him here, Nore wanted him here, and Nore wasn’t protesting as Ice inched closer into his personal space. Ice licked his lips, feeling the moment tense between them, like a string about to snap. Who would be the first to break it?
Nore’s eyes fell to Ice’s lips, and his own parted and let out a small gasp. That was the only prompting Ice needed to fall into the Norwegian’s lap and press their mouths together in a hungry embrace. Nore’s arms slid around his back, pulling him closer until Ice straddled his lap, and neither came up for air for a long time. When they did, when Ice finally pulled away, the noise it made was obscene, and a line of spit connected them still. Nore lashed his tongue out and broke it, and Ice felt that motion all the way down to his groin and he groaned.
“I think you’re hot, Nore,” he said finally. “You’re really sexy, and strong and, mmf-”
His words were stolen as Nore leaned back in and took another kiss from him, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Ice felt his sanity slipping and simply melted into the kiss, letting the older man do whatever he wanted. It felt good, it felt right, but it still wasn’t enough. Ice pulled back for a moment, to watch Nore’s flushed face heaving in breaths, clearly affected.
“You think I’m hot too right?”
“Yes,” Nore replied, hot and breathy and honest.
Ice felt that tingly feeling in his stomach again as he reached up and tugged the neck of his shirt down to expose his throat.
“Hot enough to do stuff with?”
He barely finished getting the words out before Nore all but forced him to his feet and back until he fell onto the couch again, only to be covered with the Norwegian’s entire body. He yelped in surprise, but was unable to make another sound as Nore devoured his mouth again. He moaned, and Nore pressed in deeper, taking every bit he could and Ice loved it.
Finally, Ice pulled Nore off so he could look him in the eye.
“Love you,” he said quietly, feeling his face heat up. “Nore, I love you so much.”
“Love you too,” the Norwegian replied. “I love your sweet voice and sweeter lips.”
They fell together again, and eventually their actions became so heated that they rolled right off the couch and onto the floor and barely noticed. Ice had never been so content.
Author/Artist: Tintaglia / Thea
Prompt: Norway, Iceland - Anticipation (1900s or Modern Day)
Other characters: None
Rating: Mature
Content notes: Mature, but not Explicit. Norway and Iceland are referred to by country names, or "Nore" and "Ice" respectively.
Summary: Norway and Iceland spend a Christmas alone together, with wine. Features the two in a pairing.
Mod note: Crossposted from tumblr submissions. Read it on tumblr here.
Normally at Christmastime, they all spend time together. All of them make time out of their busy schedules, and Ice especially making extra time for travel, so they can all be together. This year, for whatever reason, it wasn’t like that. Everyone had something or other to do, Dan had a date, Sve had a new puppy he didn’t want to leave, and so on. Iceland had just accepted the eventuality of having to spend Christmas alone when Nore had called him (called, not texted), to ask in his quiet voice if Ice would consider spending Christmas at home with him, just the two of them.
Of course, he accepted. He was used to Nore doting on him specifically, more so than any of the others, but it still warmed him when the Norwegian seemed to know what he wanted, what he needed, before he even had to say anything. He also knew that Norway preferred to be alone for the most part, that Christmas was one of the few times he allowed the rest of them and their madness to invade his solitude. This year, he had a completely viable excuse to avoid seeing anyone, to have his Christmas alone, and he still reached out to Iceland. He couldn’t deny, it felt good to be wanted. It was similar to the feeling of seeing a cat out in the city, and reaching down to have it run to you. He felt happy, he felt chosen. Special, even.
Neither of them was overly fond of wine, but tonight there was plenty of it. Ice sat on the couch closest to the roaring fireplace, wrapped in a knitted blanket, sipping on a glass of something red and dry, waiting for Nore to fish out their next bottle from the kitchen. The fire and blanket kept him warm, but the wine made him dazed and sleepy in a happy sort of way. He was comfortable and fuzzy as a down comforter. Honestly, if he’d been anywhere else, he might not be this content, but since it was Nore’s house, he felt himself relaxing more and more.
“Nore, where are you? I’m out!” he exclaimed in a whine as he drank his last few sips. “Where did you go?”
“Here,” came the familiar voice behind him, as a bottle suddenly crossed his vision, the Norwegian man dangling it in front of his face.
“Perfect,” Ice replied, and snatched it just to take a swig directly from the bottle, ignoring Nore’s noise of protest. “It’s sweet.”
“Yes, and it belongs in a glass,” Nore said, and pulled it from his grasp, much to Iceland’s amusement.
“Yes, Sir,” Ice replied. He felt fuzzy, but he wasn’t so out of it to not notice the twin spots of pink on top of Nore’s cheeks as he walked around the couch to sit across from him. The thought that the other was embarrassed by those words, or better yet into it did funny things to the pit of Iceland’s stomach. It was like there was a coil inside his guts, twisting and tightening, and he liked it. It made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something, but he didn’t know what. He swallowed the last of the wine in his mouth, and it suddenly felt dry.
“Where did you get all these bottles from, anyway?” he asked. “You don’t like wine that much.”
Nore shrugged his shoulders, seemingly glad for the change of subject.
“I mentioned at work that I wasn’t spending Christmas with the family, but rather just one person in particular. For some reason, they all on their own decided to give me wine bottles. I didn’t even ask.”
He seemed so perplexed that Ice couldn’t help but laugh.
“They think you’ve got a hot date,” Ice said, still chuckling as he reached for the bottle again. Nore let him, and didn’t even complain when he took another drink from the bottle.
“Don’t I?” Nore said softly, causing Iceland to choke and sputter.
“Don’t you what?” he wheezed, placing the bottle down before he spilled it.
It was apparently Nore’s turn to chuckle at his predicament.
“Which part are you stuck on? The hot part or the date?”
“You think I’m hot?” Ice asked, making eye contact with the other, who in response gave him a soft smile.
“You’re an attractive person I suppose,” Nore said, demurring with a tilt of his head.
Normally, Iceland would never feel so bold, but with the wine in his system, he saw no reason not to slide off the couch and cross the few feet between them. Nore looked up as Iceland hovered over him, that blush back on his cheeks. For once, Ice felt powerful, somehow, he had affected his elder so much. Or maybe, it was just the wine. Still, Nore had invited him here, Nore wanted him here, and Nore wasn’t protesting as Ice inched closer into his personal space. Ice licked his lips, feeling the moment tense between them, like a string about to snap. Who would be the first to break it?
Nore’s eyes fell to Ice’s lips, and his own parted and let out a small gasp. That was the only prompting Ice needed to fall into the Norwegian’s lap and press their mouths together in a hungry embrace. Nore’s arms slid around his back, pulling him closer until Ice straddled his lap, and neither came up for air for a long time. When they did, when Ice finally pulled away, the noise it made was obscene, and a line of spit connected them still. Nore lashed his tongue out and broke it, and Ice felt that motion all the way down to his groin and he groaned.
“I think you’re hot, Nore,” he said finally. “You’re really sexy, and strong and, mmf-”
His words were stolen as Nore leaned back in and took another kiss from him, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Ice felt his sanity slipping and simply melted into the kiss, letting the older man do whatever he wanted. It felt good, it felt right, but it still wasn’t enough. Ice pulled back for a moment, to watch Nore’s flushed face heaving in breaths, clearly affected.
“You think I’m hot too right?”
“Yes,” Nore replied, hot and breathy and honest.
Ice felt that tingly feeling in his stomach again as he reached up and tugged the neck of his shirt down to expose his throat.
“Hot enough to do stuff with?”
He barely finished getting the words out before Nore all but forced him to his feet and back until he fell onto the couch again, only to be covered with the Norwegian’s entire body. He yelped in surprise, but was unable to make another sound as Nore devoured his mouth again. He moaned, and Nore pressed in deeper, taking every bit he could and Ice loved it.
Finally, Ice pulled Nore off so he could look him in the eye.
“Love you,” he said quietly, feeling his face heat up. “Nore, I love you so much.”
“Love you too,” the Norwegian replied. “I love your sweet voice and sweeter lips.”
They fell together again, and eventually their actions became so heated that they rolled right off the couch and onto the floor and barely noticed. Ice had never been so content.
