Billowy stalks of rye waved steadily in the warm, late-summer breeze, whispering softly as they moved, like an army of golden sentries standing guard over the two teenagers stretched out amongst the grain at the center. The rye almost seemed to glow in the sunlight, expressing a sense of unapproachable etherealness to any observer.

And nestled safely in the privacy of the fortress of rye, Lithuania lay on his belly, watching the boy beside him in wide-eyed wonder. Poland was looking perfectly peaceful as he rested on his back, his soft blond hair flowing around him in the breeze. His eyes were closed, but fluttering ever-so-slightly, and a small smile graced his lips – a slight, off-center thing, like a smirk to the world daring it to try and break through his serenity. His hands were folded under his head like a pillow, and as Lithuania watched, he felt a warmth blossom from deep within his chest.

Lithuania found himself reaching out to brush his fingers gently against the elbow closest to him. He thrilled at the contact, amazed at how warm, how natural, the slightly-calloused skin felt. Poland did not react to the touch, except perhaps to allow that smirk to spread wider across his lips. Feeling emboldened, Lithuania let his fingers begin to wander, travelling down Poland's arm to trace the slight outline of biceps.

Poland sighed softly and opened his eyes, turning his head to face Lithuania. There was laughter sparkling warmly in his eyes, and he grinned. Lithuania flushed, feeling his heart skip a beat, but he did not withdraw his hand as it moved back up Poland's arm to brush against his wrist.

"Having fun?" Poland teased.

Lithuania gave a noncommittal shrug, a sheepish blush still painting his features. His fingers left Poland's arm to brush against his face instead, adoringly caressing his cheek. Poland's eyes drifted shut again, and he leaned his face gently into Lithuania's touch.

Lithuania's chest almost ached with the strength of the warmth that surged through him. The moment was so surreal, so beautiful – just him, Poland, and an endless sea of rye with the watchful sun warming their skin. And Poland – Poland. He swallowed, feeling his heart begin to pulse in erratic excitement as he felt Poland's breath tickle his hand. So beautiful, so perfect in his Poland-ness; everything about him, right down to the slight scar below his ear from a long-ago tumble down a rocky embankment, served to make Poland Poland, his Poland, who hated the sound of pigs squealing and had a weakness for honey. His Poland, who couldn't sleep without kicking and who thought that not taking proper care of one's horses should be treated as a cardinal sin.

Lithuania swallowed, feeling his stomach begin to turn somersaults in his gut. His hand stilled on Poland's jawbone as he chewed his lip, and a deep shade of red was slowly creeping up his features. "Poland," he breathed. His heart was racing so fast it was fluttering, and it was nothing short of a miracle that his voice didn't waver. "I . . . I want to lie with you."

Poland's eyes opened, and his eyebrows shot upwards. He said nothing – just stared at him expressionlessly, and Lithuania felt his cheeks burn with his blush.

"It's just – I – I love you, Poland, and I want to share my body with you. And I want to share yours."

Poland remained silent, and Lithuania's stomach twisted sharply.

"B-but if you're not ready, that's fine!" he added hastily. "I'm sorry – that was too sudden! I should have waited, I –!"

But suddenly, Poland's fingers were pressed against his lips, shushing him.

"Chill, Liet," Poland said, a note of laughter creeping into his voice. "You're totally cute when you ramble, you know that?"

"But-!"

"And don't worry. 'Cause . . ." Poland paused, his hand coming up to touch Lithuania's wrist. "I'd totally like to lie with you, too."

Lithuania's breath caught in his throat, and he gazed at Poland in shock, hardly daring to believe it. "R-really?"

Poland laughed. He yanked on Lithuania's wrist, and Lithuania let out a sharp cry of surprise as he suddenly found himself lying on top of Poland.

"Po-!"

"C'mon, Liet." Poland's eyes sparkled. "I love you – I need you, too."

For a long moment, Lithuania just stared at Poland, even as his heart raced at their close proximity. But then a wide grin spread slowly across his face, and fell forward to tackle Poland with a kiss, sloppy in his excitement.