[Fanfic] - Reasons
Title: Reasons
Pairing: Netherlands/Denmark
Rating: R I guess.
Warnings: Handjobs and showers.
Prompt: Denmark is a little afraid of water. And a little drunk. Another thing from the Anon Meme.
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Denmark stumbled into his home and the first thing Netherlands noticed - after being drunkenly pinned to the wall, door still wide open - was that Denmark reeked.
"You're takin' a shower." He grabbed Denmark and hauled him up the stairs, toward the bathroom -
"Whoa, no, no!" Denmark yanked himself back and nearly sent the two of them tumbling down the stairs.
"Stop whinin’."
"No!" Denmark shook his head. "Not a shower, how 'bout a bath?"
Netherlands sent him a flat stare. "Shower. Bath takes too long." He resumed dragging the two of them up the stairs.
Denmark struggled. "No, really man, n...not a shower. Bath."
Netherlands flipped on the light and ignored him, shoved him into the bathroom. "Shower."
Denmark stumbled into the sink, still shaking his head and carrying on, loudly.
"I need a smoke," Netherlands grumbled, more to himself, and crossed the room and turned on the water. He turned to Denmark. "C'mon, strip."
Denmark grinned and pulled himself flush against Netherlands again. "Howbout this first?"
“Nope. Ya smell like a goddamn bar. Get in there.” Netherlands yanked back the shower curtain and pushed Denmark toward it yet again.
“Nuh-uh! I don’...I really...” Denmark shook his head, blushed, clung to Netherlands even more.
Netherlands tried to ignore Denmark’s arousal against his thigh, and instead ran his hands up Denmark’s shirt, pulling it off. Denmark obliged, then immediately began nipping his ear, jaw, throat. Netherlands swore and tore off his own clothing before moving to Denmark’s trousers. “Lazy ass,” he grumbled.
“I - I really - don’ make me shower,” Denmark slurred.
“Why the hell not?”
Denmark swallowed, looked at him, looked at the running water, now spraying droplets across the floor and their exposed skin. “I...just...I don’ like water over m’head, ‘kay?”
Another flat stare from Netherlands.
“No, I don’ at all!” Denmark exclaimed. “I guess it’s from, y’know - I, well - I fell outta boats a lot when I was a kid, an’ I’ve always been - turnin’ inta seafoam is kinda scary...?”
“It is, huh.”
“Yep! Glad ya agree!”
“I don’t. You’re showerin’.” Netherlands hauled the two of them into the shower; Denmark squeaked - squeaked - and stumbled back as far away from the shower head as he could, hitting the wall with a loud thud.
“You’re serious.”
Denmark swallowed, audible even over the running water, and nodded.
Netherlands raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to smirk before grinding himself up against Denmark, pinning him to the tile, moist, hot flesh upon flesh. Relished in Denmark’s shiver and arch against him as he bit his neck. He ran his hands down Denmark’s sides, slick with water, sweat, steam - dug his thumbs into Denmark’s hips and ground into him again. Denmark groaned; Netherlands’ own breathing echoed along with the sound, noise amplified in the small room.
“So you’re sayin’ you don’t wanna fool around in the shower,” he mumbled into Denmark’s shoulder. Bit down again. Brought his hand between them, palmed them both.
“Tha’s no - “ Denmark cut himself off with a loud sigh, throwing his head back.
Netherlands stepped back into the spray and kept his hand at his erection, rubbing, sliding.
Denmark gave a faltering grin through deep breaths, skin flushed and glistening, water running in rivulets down his stomach, his thighs -
“Get the fuck over here.”
Denmark looked up at the spray, over at Netherlands, down to Netherlands’ hand, still slowly working. Took a tentative step forward.
Netherlands ran a hand back over his head, swiping his wet hair out of his eyes, and watched as Denmark licked his lips and flicked his eyes between the water and Netherlands’ hands.
“C’mon.”
Denmark took another step.
Netherlands huffed and dragged him into the spray, pressing his mouth against Denmark’s and shoving his tongue through wet lips. Denmark flinched, but didn’t move away, and a moment later wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled the two of them flush together.
“S’not th’bad,” Netherlands muttered against Denmark’s lips.
Denmark simply groaned and twisted them around, Netherlands’ body hitting the wall and sliding somewhat while Denmark pushed them ever closer, never pulling away from his mouth, the taste of the other diluted by the tap water streaming down.
Two hands slipping down and soon Denmark had them both grasped in one hand, awkwardly moving between their torsos - it still felt good. Very good. Netherlands wrapped a hand around the base of Denmark’s neck and made the kiss even harsher - bruising. Denmark made a noise of approval, arousal, something; the hand hitched in its motions.
Netherlands batted it away and took over, because if Denmark couldn’t keep up a steady pace then someone should. Moved his mouth to Denmark’s ear and amped up the rhythm when Denmark’s breaths became harsh, when he could feel them, hotter than the steam surrounding them. Denmark threw a leg around his, slid against him - they stumbled a little, tangled, hot, all teeth and lips and slick skin smacking against slick tile - a few more pumps and Denmark shouted, bucked against him and came, hotter than their breathing, their flushed skin, their joined bodies, the water pouring down.
The sensation was nice, but not quite enough - Netherlands pulled his shaky hand away, still taut and frustrated as Denmark flopped against him and weakly clung for support, feet sliding on the shower floor. So wound up, but he could wait. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tile, concentrating on the water running between them instead of Denmark’s mouth against his collarbone.
And then Denmark laughed, pulled away, stumbled out of the shower while nearly ripping the curtain down and allowing water to spray all over his pristine bathroom.
“Whoa. Thanks, man,” he chuckled, breathless, and toweled off his hair through the gap in the curtain.
Netherlands stared, still tense, still hard, still ready to go.
“You’re kiddin’ me.”
Denmark laughed obnoxiously and kept drying off. Netherlands wanted to strangle him, or throw him onto the floor and fuck him, or drag him to the bedroom - or - or all three. Fuck. He barely noticed his hand had drifted down.
“You are not leaving me like this.”
Denmark yawned and threw the towel over his shoulder, turning and stumbling toward the door. “Well ya better be in the bedroom then, ‘cause I’m gonna pass out soon.” He wrenched it open, turned and grinned at Netherlands, still rubbing himself under the shower spray, and walked out.
Netherlands swore under his breath and turned off the water with far more force than necessary.
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Pairing: Netherlands/Denmark
Rating: R I guess.
Warnings: Handjobs and showers.
Prompt: Denmark is a little afraid of water. And a little drunk. Another thing from the Anon Meme.
---
Denmark stumbled into his home and the first thing Netherlands noticed - after being drunkenly pinned to the wall, door still wide open - was that Denmark reeked.
"You're takin' a shower." He grabbed Denmark and hauled him up the stairs, toward the bathroom -
"Whoa, no, no!" Denmark yanked himself back and nearly sent the two of them tumbling down the stairs.
"Stop whinin’."
"No!" Denmark shook his head. "Not a shower, how 'bout a bath?"
Netherlands sent him a flat stare. "Shower. Bath takes too long." He resumed dragging the two of them up the stairs.
Denmark struggled. "No, really man, n...not a shower. Bath."
Netherlands flipped on the light and ignored him, shoved him into the bathroom. "Shower."
Denmark stumbled into the sink, still shaking his head and carrying on, loudly.
"I need a smoke," Netherlands grumbled, more to himself, and crossed the room and turned on the water. He turned to Denmark. "C'mon, strip."
Denmark grinned and pulled himself flush against Netherlands again. "Howbout this first?"
“Nope. Ya smell like a goddamn bar. Get in there.” Netherlands yanked back the shower curtain and pushed Denmark toward it yet again.
“Nuh-uh! I don’...I really...” Denmark shook his head, blushed, clung to Netherlands even more.
Netherlands tried to ignore Denmark’s arousal against his thigh, and instead ran his hands up Denmark’s shirt, pulling it off. Denmark obliged, then immediately began nipping his ear, jaw, throat. Netherlands swore and tore off his own clothing before moving to Denmark’s trousers. “Lazy ass,” he grumbled.
“I - I really - don’ make me shower,” Denmark slurred.
“Why the hell not?”
Denmark swallowed, looked at him, looked at the running water, now spraying droplets across the floor and their exposed skin. “I...just...I don’ like water over m’head, ‘kay?”
Another flat stare from Netherlands.
“No, I don’ at all!” Denmark exclaimed. “I guess it’s from, y’know - I, well - I fell outta boats a lot when I was a kid, an’ I’ve always been - turnin’ inta seafoam is kinda scary...?”
“It is, huh.”
“Yep! Glad ya agree!”
“I don’t. You’re showerin’.” Netherlands hauled the two of them into the shower; Denmark squeaked - squeaked - and stumbled back as far away from the shower head as he could, hitting the wall with a loud thud.
“You’re serious.”
Denmark swallowed, audible even over the running water, and nodded.
Netherlands raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to smirk before grinding himself up against Denmark, pinning him to the tile, moist, hot flesh upon flesh. Relished in Denmark’s shiver and arch against him as he bit his neck. He ran his hands down Denmark’s sides, slick with water, sweat, steam - dug his thumbs into Denmark’s hips and ground into him again. Denmark groaned; Netherlands’ own breathing echoed along with the sound, noise amplified in the small room.
“So you’re sayin’ you don’t wanna fool around in the shower,” he mumbled into Denmark’s shoulder. Bit down again. Brought his hand between them, palmed them both.
“Tha’s no - “ Denmark cut himself off with a loud sigh, throwing his head back.
Netherlands stepped back into the spray and kept his hand at his erection, rubbing, sliding.
Denmark gave a faltering grin through deep breaths, skin flushed and glistening, water running in rivulets down his stomach, his thighs -
“Get the fuck over here.”
Denmark looked up at the spray, over at Netherlands, down to Netherlands’ hand, still slowly working. Took a tentative step forward.
Netherlands ran a hand back over his head, swiping his wet hair out of his eyes, and watched as Denmark licked his lips and flicked his eyes between the water and Netherlands’ hands.
“C’mon.”
Denmark took another step.
Netherlands huffed and dragged him into the spray, pressing his mouth against Denmark’s and shoving his tongue through wet lips. Denmark flinched, but didn’t move away, and a moment later wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled the two of them flush together.
“S’not th’bad,” Netherlands muttered against Denmark’s lips.
Denmark simply groaned and twisted them around, Netherlands’ body hitting the wall and sliding somewhat while Denmark pushed them ever closer, never pulling away from his mouth, the taste of the other diluted by the tap water streaming down.
Two hands slipping down and soon Denmark had them both grasped in one hand, awkwardly moving between their torsos - it still felt good. Very good. Netherlands wrapped a hand around the base of Denmark’s neck and made the kiss even harsher - bruising. Denmark made a noise of approval, arousal, something; the hand hitched in its motions.
Netherlands batted it away and took over, because if Denmark couldn’t keep up a steady pace then someone should. Moved his mouth to Denmark’s ear and amped up the rhythm when Denmark’s breaths became harsh, when he could feel them, hotter than the steam surrounding them. Denmark threw a leg around his, slid against him - they stumbled a little, tangled, hot, all teeth and lips and slick skin smacking against slick tile - a few more pumps and Denmark shouted, bucked against him and came, hotter than their breathing, their flushed skin, their joined bodies, the water pouring down.
The sensation was nice, but not quite enough - Netherlands pulled his shaky hand away, still taut and frustrated as Denmark flopped against him and weakly clung for support, feet sliding on the shower floor. So wound up, but he could wait. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tile, concentrating on the water running between them instead of Denmark’s mouth against his collarbone.
And then Denmark laughed, pulled away, stumbled out of the shower while nearly ripping the curtain down and allowing water to spray all over his pristine bathroom.
“Whoa. Thanks, man,” he chuckled, breathless, and toweled off his hair through the gap in the curtain.
Netherlands stared, still tense, still hard, still ready to go.
“You’re kiddin’ me.”
Denmark laughed obnoxiously and kept drying off. Netherlands wanted to strangle him, or throw him onto the floor and fuck him, or drag him to the bedroom - or - or all three. Fuck. He barely noticed his hand had drifted down.
“You are not leaving me like this.”
Denmark yawned and threw the towel over his shoulder, turning and stumbling toward the door. “Well ya better be in the bedroom then, ‘cause I’m gonna pass out soon.” He wrenched it open, turned and grinned at Netherlands, still rubbing himself under the shower spray, and walked out.
Netherlands swore under his breath and turned off the water with far more force than necessary.
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