Christmas fic.
This is supposed to be together with my other story A game og marrige, but you can read it without reading (or even need to read) the other story.
Finland let out a sigh. It had been a hectic night, but then again; it always was on Christmas. And he still had half of Europe left. His holiday looked like this: on the 23rd he looked over all his Santa tools, before he made his way over to Denmark, Sweden or Norway, depending on which one of them they were supposed to celebrate the holiday at.
Then he spent the morning and the noon with them and Iceland, before he delivered their Christmas present and then took off to deliver all the present to the children and other nations after dinner.
He loved being Santa, he really did. It was just that when he got on his sled, they stayed behind to watch Mickey Mouse and his friends, opening their presents and awaited the joy they knew they would feel as the children of their nations got a visit from Santa. Because in Scandinavia, as well as in his country, Santa showed up on Christmas eve, sometimes after dinner and he personally gave the kids their gifts. It was exhausting to use so much magic he needed to use to deliver the presents on time, not to mention the 13 different days he had to be in Iceland, but it was worth it as soon as the first child hugged him, some of them even gave him a Christmas present in return!
So, each time he got back to the other (they had usually gone to bed by now), he was filled with a happy and warm feeling. It was early in Christmas day morning; his year they had been celebrating in Sweden, which meant they were going to Denmark next year.
He was leaning against his sled when the garage door was opened. The light in the kitchen was on, and the light had gone directly to his eyes if it had not been for the shadow of a figure standing in the doorway.
"Fin" came Sweden's voice from the figure. "You're back early."
Finland looked at her, actually taking in the sight of her since yesterday.
It's been three months since they last had been together, he missed her. And he had somehow forgotten how beautiful she is. Or perhaps that was just because of the not being together for three months-thing.
She didn't have her glasses on, her hair hung freely and she had only her pajamas' shirt on. Or at least someone's pajamas' shirt on since it reached down her thigh. God, he had missed her.
"You think so? Everybody still asleep?" he asked as if these thought about the feeling of her body pressed against him didn't exist. He mentally hit himself for not being able to stop staring at the end of her shirt. She didn't seem to mind it though. She didn't answer either.
"Why are you still up?"
"Woke up. Heard you."
"Sorry" he said still staring at her.
Sweden let out a sigh and made her way over to him, the door slowly closing behind her. Thankfully there was still a week light strong enough for them to see each other.
"Aren't that cold?" he asked as he felt her arms sneak around his neck. She shook her head. He put his arms around her, holding her tight. How long has it been since he last held her like this? Three months.
"Would we be unfaithful if I kiss you now? I mean there's no mistletoe here." She shook her head again and shrugged; maybe she didn't want him to kiss her, maybe she didn't care.
"Why don't you have mistletoe here?"
"We're in the garage."
She tasted like Christmas food and toothpaste, but beneath all that she tasted like Sweden. Once he had come addicted to her taste, to her sent and to her body. He never said anything about, though, out of fear of sounding like a creep. And if he did he would never hear the end of it from Denmark.
He could feel her bare legs, and before he came to term with what he should do, continue or stop and go to bed, he had pressed her against him, turned around, lifted her up and put her down on his sled. She had let out a surprised yelp against his lips, before she giggled quietly.
"Fin..."
"Yeah, I know." He said as he too tried to get on his sled. How long had he been Santa? Still, what he was about to do had never occurred to him before.
"No marks." She said suddenly, causing Finland to look at her. She blushed and looked away. "No marks, Tino."
"Fine no marks." Finland sighed. He knew of course that he couldn't leave any marks, he wasn't stupid. But it felt like a loss itself not being able to leave them.
He let is hand wander from her shoulders, down her back, over her thighs and turn to go all the way back at her knees. His other hand was working on unbuttoning her pajamas shirt.
Suddenly she started giggle again. Finland looked at her rather surprised, he hadn't tickle her or anything.
"What?" he asked confused when she seemed ti settle back to normal.
"Do- do you know where we are?" and then she started giggle again. A slight blush crept over his cheeks while he was mentally cursing her sense of humor.
"Shut up." He whispered an d tried to silence her with kisses. And when that didn't work the way he wanted it to be simple put his hand over her mouth.
He knew that he soon had to go into the house. If he were later than usual it would be questioning. And this would be their little secret.
Because, no matter what, at least at this moment; she belonged to him, just as much as he belonged to her.
And he didn't want; no he didn't need anyone to know about the fact that he had done unspeakable thing to her on his Santa sled.
oOoOoOo
He fell on top of her. Panting.
"Hi, sweetie." He whispered. Sweden gave him a small smile, she didn't feel like answering. Lately she had been talking more than she is used to.
"We have to get up soon." Finland continued, like she knew he would. So she just nodded, soon everybody would be up, and being caught sneaking back from the garage with just a shirt and her panties on was not a tempting thought.
Finland rolled off her and she got up. She gave him another small smile; if she kept this up he cheeks would start to hurt.
She could still hear him behind her as she made her way up the stairs. He obviously wanted to stay downstairs.
"Merry Christmas" she mumbled to herself, before she laid down next to the sleeping figure in her bed.