I wrote another fluffy, pointless drabble because I still have yet to come up with an actual plot with relationship development and all that good stuff. 8D BUT I'M WORKING ON IT, PROMISE.
Title: The Taste of Your Lips -- I COULDN'T THINK OF A BETTER ONE.
Rating: T
"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment." ― Sarah Dessen
Or, perhaps, it was the graceful sensation of soft lips pressed against his own, lips slowly moving in some hypnotic rhythm that easily sent him into a trance. Lips that tasted faintly of tobacco and a hint of chocolate icing from the rich cake they had shared earlier that evening, icing that was far too sweet for their own tastes.
But perhaps it was all or none of those reasons that finally brought Denmark back to reality, the reality of what was happening around him, to him, and everything in between. Only god knows how many seconds it took for his mind--no, his entire body--to react to the sensation still present against his lips.
Is this real?
Of course, it had to be. The way that his lips were pried further apart, the shy tongue that began to make its needs apparent, the hand tightly gripping his blonde mane that defied all logic; all of it. All of it had to be real, because he could feel it. And this feeling didn't stop in a physical sense, either. Every touch that he received and every touch that he gave, could be felt throughout his entire being.
Yes, Netherlands was kissing him. And he was kissing Netherlands. The two of them. Kissing. A kiss far too gentle to suit their personalities. Netherlands and Denmark. Kissing.
Finally the realization had sunk into his brain and oh fuck, if his knees started shaking then he would collapse. Right there. Denmark was sure of it. But would he even be able to move an inch? He was still pinned against a wall, after all. Either way, he trusted that Dutchman. He trusted that Netherlands wouldn't let him fall.
Secret after secret they had spilled to each other, because they knew that they could talk about anything together. They had been close for so long, after all. And they had experienced trial and error; but it was no secret that things would be a little different from now on.
Denmark was no longer afraid, though. Neither of them were. He no longer feared risking the loss of someone so dear to him, because he knew that he wasn't alone anymore. It had become more and more difficult for the two of them to hide deep feelings that had blossomed so suddenly, that neither of them knew when it had happened or why. But it did happen, and on this night, Denmark could finally breathe again.
Or perhaps that was just because the everlasting kiss had finally been broken.
Silence then took over, aside from their heavy panting. And for a long moment, nothing was said. But nothing needed to be said, either. Because they both knew, they always knew. They had just been afraid to say anything. Still, the blonde haired Dane wanted to say something. Something meaningful to mark this moment. He had dreamed of confessing many, many times; but never had he thought it would become reality.
But as he let his eyes flutter open to gaze into the pair before him, the words were suddenly unable to make it past his throat. Those eyes, those goddamn beautiful, olive eyes. They were unbelievably soft, and they held so much emotion within them. Denmark couldn't understand how anyone could possibly be intimidated by this stupid Dutchman with his stupidly cool hair and his stupid smile that he rarely wore; not to mention the stupidly adorable laugh that he always tried to hide, and--
Oh. So maybe that was it. Maybe he was able to see so many things in those eyes because he had fallen in love with them. And it was true; he had, in fact, fallen for his best friend. He was in love with Netherlands.
"Umm..." he breathed out, when the silence had become unbearable. But the words that followed were hardly comprehensible. Actually, they weren't at all! Denmark's mind was still trying to process all that had happened in such a short moment that seemed to last an eternity.
And that was how he ended up speaking a mixture of English and German and--Swedish? Seriously? Why the fuck did that come out of his mouth!?
Even so, Denmark's words had been understood--somehow--and the small grin on Netherlands' lips was literally threatening to make him melt.
"...Me too," he responded shortly, his tone barely above a whisper. And it sent shivers down Denmark's spine. Or perhaps it was the way that Netherlands began to repeatedly press small, sweet kisses to his slightly swollen lips.
And suddenly, Denmark was giggling.
"Your... Your lips! They taste like smoke and that shitty chocolate icing from the cake that America forced us all to eat after the meeting, earlier this afternoon."
Netherlands chuckled a little, but didn't dare break their gaze. "Yeah? Well yours taste like cheap beer and shitty chocolate icing. So I guess we're even."
He supposed that they were. But in all honesty, Denmark really enjoyed the taste of the other man's lips, even though they would have been so much more delicious, covered in Belgian chocolate. Is this what love tasted like, then? Sweet kisses and chocolate mixed with tobacco and beer? It wasn't that bad, not bad at all. He liked it. He could get used to this.
Nonetheless, he greatly desired to claim those lips for his own, and he was more than glad when Netherlands pulled him into yet another slow, sensual kiss. A kiss to end all worries and make them once again forget the rest of the world that surrounded them.
...But it didn't last for long.
"Ahem."
Denmark nearly jumped when a foreign sound joined them in the quiet hotel hallway. But he supposed that he wasn't the only startled one, since Netherlands wasn't touching him anymore. And that fact was absolute blasphemy.
At the very end of the hallway stood Iceland in front of the door to his room. When had he even come out of it? How long had he been standing there, watching them? Oh god, Denmark didn't want to know. He could already tell by the way that Iceland's lips seem to twitch slightly, that he was trying not to laugh.
"...What?"
"I didn't say anything," Iceland replied smoothly. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy.
"Then what do you want? We're kinda busy here..!" Denmark impatiently ran a hand through his hair, and only now did he notice how silent Netherlands had gone--and there was a bright blush on his cheeks, too!
"Oh, yeah, I can see that you two are veeeery busy. Didn't mean to interrupt, I suppose the ice machine can wait."
The way that Iceland snickered and looked back and forth between the two of them before snickering again was starting to make Denmark furious. Or was he simply embarrassed? Well fuck it, he didn't care. Nations could spread rumors like wildfire, and just about everyone already knew how much he and Netherlands had liked each other. It didn't matter now, he was far too happy to care.
"Well then, s-stop standing there and go back inside already!" he snapped.
But Iceland only waved a hand and took his sweet time, opening the door to his own hotel room. "Geez, and I thought that this was a free country, that's what America 'bragged' about the entire day."
"...Goodnight, Ice."
Denmark supposed that his stern voice had worked because the damn cockblocker finally gave up and disappeared at last. But the mood had been ruined, it was awkward now.
Making out in a hotel hallway where any nation could stumble upon them hadn't been the best idea, anyway. But he had assumed everyone would be asleep by now, since they all had to awaken early for the last day of the world meeting. Then everyone would return home on their respective flights, and wouldn't come together again until the next meeting a couple months away in Berlin.
Which meant not seeing a certain Dutchman for weeks.
Denmark didn't like that thought at all.
"We should go, too. Back to our rooms, that is. Meeting starts early tomorrow." Netherlands suddenly spoke up, keeping his gaze elsewhere but Denmark's deep blue eyes. But Denmark didn't notice, he was still stuck on the thought that they most likely wouldn't see each other again for awhile. Even though they could identify as lovers now...
"...Or we could just skip it," he blurted out, but he knew that it was pointless. Netherlands was a perfect example of a hardworking, serious businessman and nation. He wouldn't skip a meeting just because--
"Sure."
Or maybe he would? A wide grin spread on Denmark's lips and he was sure that he had caught a glimpse of a smile on Netherlands', as well. But the other had quickly turned away, probably still embarrassed. God, he was just too cute at times!
After saying goodnight and bidding farewell, Denmark once again stood before the door to his hotel room. How could he possibly rest now, knowing that he and Netherlands had plans to ditch the last meeting and spend the whole day together, just the two of them? Well, not the whole day, since their flights would leave in the evening.
Still, the mere thought of it was enough to extract many content sighs from him. Suddenly, however, Denmark gasped. A gasp that meant he'd forgotten something very important!
He hadn't given his new boyfriend a proper goodnight kiss. Oh, that word tickled him from the inside out. Boyfriend. Netherlands was his boyfriend now. They had kissed--well, more like sucked the oxygen out of each other's lungs--and they had a date tomorrow. He didn't think that this night could possibly get any better. Ah, but there was still that goodnight kiss to give--
"...I'll just have to go and see if Ned's still awake."
And Denmark was more than happy to find that he was.
