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Title:   Heather and Daisies
Pairing:  Norway/Denmark
Genre: Slightly fluffy D/s
Rating: NC-17
Summary:  I wanted to write Nor/Den D/s.  This is what happened.  However Denmark keeps trying to snark out like a Dom, so this is an, hm.  What Might Have Been Fic. 
Notes:  In the Power Exchange AU I like to use the nation's national flowers as the titles.  Norway's is Heather and Denmark's the Daisy.  Heather is considered a sign of solitude, and protection.  The Daisy, a symbol of loyal love.   Very apro for this scenario.

 



It starts mostly by accident, but ends intentionally.

Denmark is by nature difficult to pin down, no matter what Austria mutters to whoever will listen.  On his good days, Austria settles for calling him a suffer of ADHD.  On the bad days, when the world meetings leave everyone frustrated and on edge, Austria will  inevitably call him a high functioning sociopath.  Those days leave everyone snarling at each other, and insults of any nature are often ignored for the sake of world peace.
On the good days he'll lean over to slap England's ass, darting away as the English nation squawks in surprise.  On the good days he'll lead his unholy alliance of nations (Australia, America, Prussia and Finland) to the bar where they would have what America calls "A damn good time."   Norway will follow them and watch.  On the bad days, however, Norway will interrupt them before they can leave.  He'll claim something, usually a matter of dull boring trade, that for all it's boring nature needs to be handled quickly.  Denmark will quirk a smile, and follow him, keeping up a relentless chatter of whatever pops into his head right up until they reach Norway's rooms, where Norway quietly takes care of Denmark.

It didn't use to be this way. 

Norway remembers the first time he realized that Denmark was not like him, and was more like Sweden then anyone knew.  The fight, when it happened was towards the end of the union, when Sweden had been fighting with Denmark almost constantly.  The reason was lost to time, but all that mattered was this.
Finland, perhaps in a fit of rare anger, that the uncommon peace of the day had been shattered, had suddenly snapped out, "Drop it!"  Norway remembers now that two sets of weapons had hit the ground - not the one he'd been so focused on.

"Down," Finland had continued, a hard, uncompromising tone his voice that no one had heard before.  Sweden had looked surprised when he'd had to look up at Finland a split second later.    "There.  Now," he'd said, "Let's sit down and have a sane dinner."

There had been a clatter and when everyone else had looked over where Denmark had been standing, he was gone.  He hadn't come back until the next day.   Later, much later, Norway would remember seeing Denmark out of the corner of his eye, looking shocked to be on his knees, and confused as to how he'd gotten there. 

But, Norway mused, that had been then and this was now.

And right now, Denmark is a few steps behind him, recounting  some trouble he got into with Prussia earlier.  Norway doesn't care in particular - or at least he would like to think he doesn't, but he's learned through the years that paying attention to the nervous chatter as they reach his room usually tells him more about the Dane's state of mind then anything else.  It's a tool he uses wisely.  Today Denmark is going on about a prank on Austria, and he keeps bringing up up how shocked the Austrian nation was.

It explains the viscous  tongue lashing Austria snapped at Denmark and Prussia earlier.  

He pauses outside his door and waits for Denmark to catch up.  He doesn't say  anything as he opens the door.  After so many centuries together he doesn't need to.  He knows his lover, and knows him well.  Denmark needs comfort tonight.  He's nervous, weight shifting from side to side.  Norway doesn't think that Denmark’s been eating well or sleeping decently either - there are shadows and circles on his face that weren’t there last year. Without saying a word, Denmark finally goes quiet and walks inside as Norway follows him in, closing and locking the door.



Denmark knows what Norway expects from him once they're inside the other nation's room.  It's always been easier for him to give in to Norway once he's got no choice - but Norway likes Denmark to take his own choices away. 

So he does.

In the bag Norway brought is some of his gear - he didn't bring all of it, but the ones he's brought make him shiver.    Norway likes the silvery color of polished steel - says it reminds him of the colors of water when polished right.  Denmark likes them because Norway likes them.  If he wanted to play tonight he'd put them all on, the cuffs, the collar, everything, and instead of the soft wool sheets, he'd put down the cool cotton ones. 

Tonight, he doesn't really want to play hard.  He just wants to curl up and do what he's told for a while.  He's no America, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but even he has pressures.  Norway's in the bathroom, unusual, but not too uncommon.  Sometimes Norway likes to bath him or be bathed by him. So it;s the soft woolen sheets laid down, and cuffs laid out on the bed, he sinks to his knees, collar resting on his folded legs and waits.

At first Denmark twitches and fidgets.  Its always hard the first few moments for him.  His mind doesn't want to stop running,  and as always a little part of him wants to stand up and walk away.  But there's another part of him that knows if he walks away, Norway will let him – and while they'll be friends, they won't be what they are right now.

Denmark's worked too hard to earn this right, to be allowed in Norway's bed like this to walk away with from it.  He couldn't see himself giving up Norway willingly.  So rather then get up, he stays on his knees and waits for Norway to come out.




Norway runs the water in the tub carefully.  He wanted it hot enough to absorb the herbal salt bag he added but cool enough to sooth tired muscles.  Normally it'd just be a packet of Epson salts with maybe some oils added, but this was a gift from a thoughtful aide.  It smelled like cedar forests, sea-salt and heather, he thought.  It had a clean sort of all together smell, like the sea after a storm. 

He walked out into the bedroom where Denmark was waiting for him.  One glance told him everything he needed to know about Denmark's state of mind.  The sheets were the ones they used for comfort, the cuffs laid out on the bedside table.  On Denmark's knees was the silvery collar that Norway used for Denmark alone, though he'd never tell him that.  Denmark was breathing deep and slow, his eyes fixed on the floor. He crouched on the floor and gently ran his hand over Denmark's tense and knotted back.    The blond didn't allow himself to think, he quickly fixed the smooth collar around Denmark's neck.

The sight still, as always, made his breath catch for just a moment.  His breath puffed out and he smiled down at Denmark.

“Come.”  Norway turns and walks back to the tub he'd prepared, fully confident that Denmark would be following him.  Denmark sinks to his knees in one smooth movement once inside.  Norway always wondered at that sort of movement, a bit like a dancer, a bit like a song.  Some nations moved like that all the time.  Denmark only moved like that when he was fighting or when he was kneeling for Norway.

(He'd never let himself be taken in by such movement though.  Norway had on several occasions seen Denmark go from kneeling to a full fledged battle rage back in the day; without even batting an eye.  He'd also seen Japan and China fight once.  They moved like butterfly, delicate movements that seemed so fragile.  Yet when they connected with each other, the resulting force broke bones and shattered egos.  Float like a butterfly and sting like a Bee indeed.)

He gestured towards the steaming fragrant tub with one hand.  “You get a choice tonight.”  Denmark's eyes flicked up beneath his lashes.  Norway suppressed the immediate smile that tried to come to life at the glint in Denmark's eyes.  “You're going to serve me, and you're going to soak for at least an hour tonight.  That's going to happen no matter what.”

“What is up to you, is the order in which this will happen,” he continued, reaching with one hand to stroke Denmark's spiky hair.  The gentle strokes always centered both of them, and it was best to start this evening off was to make sure they were both centered.  “Everything else, I select what happens, for how long and when.  Do you agree?”

Beneath his hand, the other blond was silent for a moment before his head moved, nodding in agreement.
“Use your words.”

“Yes sir.” Denmark's voice was quiet and soft.  He was trying to please Norway already, which made Norway pleased, but he didn't really like the withdrawn nature Denmark was displaying right then.  There was more going on then the insults from Austria.  He sighed.

“Well?”




Denmark fidgeted, feeling Norway's hand stroking his hair.  It was a little comfort that he wasn't sure if Norway knew, but he didn't want to give it up either way.  His knees were starting to ache, and the wet warmth of the bath was alluring, no doubt.  Norway always created the best baths for some reason.  Finland had Saunas, Iceland, Hot Springs, but Norway always made the best baths he'd ever come across. 

But....Norway shouldn't have to be serving him like this. Austria's voice was still bouncing around in his head.  He shifted his weight one more time, pondering.  It was unusual being given a choice like this.  Normally he'd be told what to do if it went outside their normal routine.

“It's not a test.”  Norway's voice from above him spoke matter-a-factually.  “If anything think of it as an reward.”
That settled it.  Norway was so willing to accommodate him like this, that his choice was all but made for him.  “Serve, sir.”

“Ah.”   The word was almost sighed out on an exhale.  “Well then.  You know what to do.”

He did.  One of Norway's favorite things to have him do as a service was to a blow job, which interestingly enough was one of Denmark's favorite things to do.  He loved to mouth at Norway through his pants, wet the fabric gently and listen to the breath above him go harder and louder.  He loved to tug the zippers down with his teeth slow and teasingly.  The feel of smooth warm skin in his mouth, the shaking of a body, it all was a heady experience for him.  So yes, he did know what to do.

Norway had moved back, leaning against the hotel's sink and was looking down at him, a faint color on his cheeks and his violet eyes bright and sharp.  He leaned forward and breathed in, resting his mouth just over the hardening bulge beneath the pants.  His nose was immediately filled with Norway's scent.  Sea-salt, snow and fresh turned ground met his senses and he felt a noise rumble up through his throat.  Gently he started to lick.  Slow at first, wet with as much saliva as he could manage it.  The wetter he got the fabric at the start the longer he could suck.

Above him he was aware, in that sort of odd sense, that Norway was stroking his face and neck with those deceptively delicate hands, while making those soft rumbling noises.  He kept licking and feeling the hidden warmth getting harder and harder beneath his tongue and mouth.  Didn't matter much to him at that point that his knees had long since gone numb, as long as he could make this good – or better still for Norway.  When he finally deemed the fabric wet enough for him to start mouthing and sucking he felt his partner give a full body shudder.

If Norway liked the mouthing and sucking he was doing then he'd love this, he reasoned.  Without moving his hands from his knees he tugged the zipper down slow and carefully.  Unzipping someone else's pants with just your mouth was harder then it looked.  Denmark made it look like child's play.  After unlacing laces centuries ago..well..this was a hell of a lot easier.  

When they first started this, whatever it was, Denmark tried to be like the humans Norway usually seemed to play with.   He kept himself quiet, stifling himself and being quiet, near to passive.  It had taken them nearly a century to work out that Norway liked Denmark as Denmark.

Norway liked to hear him as he worked to cram the other nation down his throat.  Norway liked Denmark to be himself.  So he was.  He knelt there on the cold floor, with the smell of sea salts and heather around them, Norway's scent in his nose and Norway in his mouth.  He rolled his tongue against the smooth flesh and swallowed.  He could stay there forever like this, just gently doing his best for his Dom, trying to show how thankful he was that they could do this, finally like this, after so long, and still be themselves.

He could give this to Norway, and know that it was ok; that he wouldn't be lost, or have this be an act of war.  It was just the two of them as themselves and nothing else when it was like this.

He smiled and bent forward, bringing his nose to meet Norway's smooth skin.  Above him the previously steady breath stuttered as he swallowed and moaned.  Cool hands gentle encouraged him to come back up and let the other nation go.  He was guided to rest his head in Norway's hip, taking deep breaths in slow and steady.

“You don't have to,” Norway's voice was low.  It reminded him of long houses, banked fires and security.

"I want to," he mumbled back, already missing Norway.  Norway lifts his hands from his head and lets him curl back around the other nation's legs.  This time it's softly gentle instead of the soft desperation of before.  He suckles and licks for what seems forever, before Norway murmurers a warning.  He ignores it and swallows, feeling warmth bloom in his lower body at the sight of his lover like this.



Later, much later, after Norway's bathed him and they're curled in bed, Denmark wearing the cuffs around his wrists and Norway around his body, they both finally really relax.  Warm bodies pressed gentle against each other.  He fights to stay awake, he ought to have the first watch after all, he always takes the first and last watch.

"Sleep.  I've first watch."  Norway's voice isn't quite ordering him, but it's close enough for Denmark either way.  He falls asleep.

 

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