Iceland's hands shook as he opened the envelope. The neatly folded note inside would hold truths to his entire existence and he was almost afraid to read the dreaded words. Shaking out the paper and scanning the first few lines, his eyes widened in shock. The rest of the page was read in absolute horror as the lifetime of questioning was answered in a few short simple sentences. The paper slipped from his fingers and fluttered to the floor. Norway was the only thing on his mind. Norway and the recently collected results of the DNA test Iceland had subjected them to. Norway was indeed his older brother.
The shock and guilt and horror and sorrow and pain mingled into some horrible sickening feeling inside of him. He couldn't tell Norway. Iceland would have to keep it to himself and then maybe things could just o back to normal between them. Normal. Iceland groaned and fell back onto his bed. Nothing had been normal between them. Iceland had been kissing his brother. And not innocent brotherly kisses. They'd been fucking. How could they come back from that? Iceland stared at the ceiling. He needed to talk to Norway.
With an uneasy groan that matched his current state of mind, Iceland reached for the paper laying dejected on the ground and rose to carry it to Norway's room. He hesitated outside of the bedroom door before knocking softly. "Norge...?" With no answer, Iceland quietly eased open the door. His brother-goddamn, he was beginning to hate that word-was nowhere in sight. Iceland was about to turn and leave when something glinting on the bedside table caught his eye.
He padded further into the room to pick up the golden barrette left on the bedside table-the simple yet beautiful design of a Nordic Cross. Simple yet beautiful. Just like his brother.
"Damnit," Iceland breathed, clutching the other's barrette tightly in his palm. Now he wouldn't be able to stop thinking of the other nation as anything but. Iceland opened his fist. The cool metal of the barrette left a perfect imprint upon his palm. The cross and the DNA papers were discarded onto the bedside table. Iceland sank onto the edge of his brother's-stop fucking saying that word!-bed. He looked around the familiar neat room. So simple. So Norway. He collapsed onto his side and curled up into a ball on Norway's comforter.
The longer he lay there the more he started to think. Started to remember. Did Norway feel this way whenever he slipped into bed at night? Did he remember all of those deliciously-wrong-things they had done in this bed. Iceland rolled over and suppressed a shiver. His jeans were starting to fit uncomfortably tight.
After much deliberation, all rational thought escaped him and Iceland mentally reported 'Screw it'.
He wiggled a bit on the Norwegian's bed in a desperate attempt to remove his pants and boxers, pushing the offending layers away from his little problem. Iceland let out a little whine as his fingers closed around his half hard cock. He gave it a few mindful tugs reminiscent of his partner's usual ministrations. Iceland let his head fall back on the pillows-Norway's pillows-as he began stroking himself at a comfortable rhythm. The pictures playing themselves out in his mind's eye were of him and his...brother...and the past-disgusting, dirty-things they had done on this bed. The thought should have disgusted him, but it only made Iceland moan and thrust harder into his hand. It didn't take long for Iceland to come, and when he did it was Norway's name gracing his lips in a rather desperate cry. It was only after the haze of passion had settled when Iceland became horribly guilty at what he had just done. Jerking off in his brother's bed! Who the hell did that?
"Enjoy yourself?"
Iceland froze at the familiar expressionless voice addressing him. He swallowed hard and dared to look up, meeting Norway's gaze halfway across the room. His brother leaned in the doorway. How long had he been standing there! Had he heard everything? Seen everything? As though broken from a trance, Iceland hastened to pull up his pants and rearrange himself.
"So desperate you couldn't wait until I got home?" The smirk ghosted across his lips as he approached the bed. His eyes fell on the folded paper settled on his nightstand and he paused. "What's this?"
Iceland swallowed again. He watched Norway-his newly identified brother Norway-take the paper in hand and unfold it. Iceland watched his eyes scan the fated words. Then, he watched, horrified, as Norway shredded the paper in two. And in two again. He tossed the ruined pieces into the bin and looked down at his shock stilled little brother.
"W-why...? Why did you do that...?" Iceland demanded to know, voice shaken.
Norway answered, "It doesn't matter."
"What...?"
"It doesn't matter. If we're brothers or not."
"B-but...but we can't..."
"Doesn't matter," Norway repeated, shaking his head. He clambered onto the bed, pushing Iceland down against the mattress with his hands on either side of Iceland's small body. "As long as we love each other, why should anything else matter?"
Iceland looked up at his brother and blinked.
"It doesn't," Norway answered for him. Before Iceland could protest further, Norway leaned down and caught Iceland in a deep kiss. At first Iceland attempted to break it, but after a few moments easily succumbed. Norway let their lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. Iceland remained breathless beneath him. "I love you, little brother."
Iceland colored slightly, but the words hadn't turned him off as he thought they would. Instead they made him glow. He smiled and responded, "I love you too, big brother." And tugged Norway back in for another kiss.