Title: Only Until You Get Better AN: Hey, guys! This one is special, and I only hope I can write it well. This is for my own Derpy Denmark, Liz. I hope she enjoys this fic, since I wrote it just for her because she's sick. She deserves tons of loves right now, because I'm really worried about her. Um... Other things you need to know are I named them. :3 Rueben is Norway, Mikkel is Denmark. Anyways, on to the story! ******************************************
Author: Reno-Sinclair/Tweek Tucker/Karmasontheway
Rating: M to be safe
Word Count: 3511
Chapter: 1/1
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing/Character: Denmark/Norway
Warnings: Fluff, Sick!Denmark, Cross dressing, Light porn
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any countries. I do have seasons one and two on DVD, though. :3
Summary: Denmark has come down with the flu, and is unable to do his normal duties. Dressed as a nurse to make his lover feel better, Norway tries to do his best to make some magic healing happen.
Things had been relatively calm, lately, around the small set of houses. This usually meant one of three things; Denmark was asleep for days, had been murdered by Sweden, or he was sick. While it was a joyous occasion, meant to be shared and celebrated by the world, depending on the scenario, there was still a bit of worry that burned in the heart of the man that, while he would never truly admit to how deeply, loved the Dane. Usually, Mikkel was all over him, all the time. He'd gone home with a headache a few days ago, and nobody had heard from him since. Even the cell phone he'd received as a present had seemed to go dead, except for the occasional text from his younger brother.
Since this was cause for worry at all, the Norwegian found himself standing in front of the obnoxiously meticulous and decorated door, debating returning to his own home for his own sanity. But something inside of him pushed his hand to the wood and he knocked twice, three times, then four. Even after waiting patiently for five minutes, there was no answer. Reaching forward and jiggling the handle, he found that his love had been his normal cocky slef when he'd come home and had left his door unlocked. Hefting the grocery bags he'd brought with him, he entered the home easily enough.
Something was very odd about the large, ornate home. It was actually clean, which was something that didn't happen unless Mikkel asked him to do it. Which meant nothing had been touched since he'd last cleaned it for him. Which was very, very strange; usually this house was the most lived-in looking of all of the Nordics, other than Finland's cozy half of the house he shared with Sweden. Moving in and kicking the large wooden door closed behind him, the Norwegian trekked into the house, straight to the kitchen to put away the groceries he'd bought for his lover. He hardly heard a noise in the house, other than what he could only deduce was the heater.
After putting things away, and cleaning out that disastrous fridge, he decided to go ahead and whip up a soup for the other, something he was sure the other could eat, even if he was sick. It took him a good portion of the night to get everything going, but once it was done he was proud of himself. Loading up a tray with two bowls and two drinks, he made his way up to his lover's bedroom to see how he was doing, and if he was even there. There was always the option that he'd gone to visit someone, for whatever reason.
The bedroom door stood strong and powerful between Rueben and his destination, with only one chip in its armor; it was slightly pushed in, left ajar by Mikkel's carelessness, most likely. Making his way into the room, pushing the door open with his hip, the ash-blond turned to look at the grandiose room before him. The bed took up most of the space in the large room, made of a dark, polished wood and silk and satin. It was obvious that the Dane worshipped the lap of luxury, as much as he liked to say he was a rugged man.
The rest of the room followed royal-looking orders, in and of itself, looking like a king lived there; the king of the world, if that damned Denmark had anything to say about it. But, there were moments like these when he was clearly not as much a king as he'd like to say. From his vantage point in the doorway, he could see a large lump in the black, red and gold covers, slowly rising and falling due to breath. Even that unruly blond hair was hidden beneath the covers, which was truly saying something.
Taking careful steps into the room, he set the tray down on the nightstand and turned to look at the bed once more. Crawling under the bed and working his way beneath the covers, he moved to the middle of the bed where the other insisted on laying.
"Mikkel?" That soft voice was like crushed velvet as it dropped from those equally soft lips, right into the larger ear of his lover. Nothing happened, at first, and so he leaned in closer to press his body against the... Incredibly hot one of his now certainly sick lover. "Mikkel... Wake up..." His voice seemed to be trying to coax him into being awake, now, as if it would help his condition more than napping it off.
A groggy grunt left the taller male, and the left side of his upper lip lifted some, as if to snarl. The most he did, though, was roll onto his side and capture the thin waist of his new bedmate, rolling them over to lay together, his head resting in his smaller lover's stomach. This, of course, was not the course of action preferred by the smaller blond, who immediately fought the strong arm he rested in.
"Mikkel, I told you to get up. I brought you food, and a few other things." Even at the mention of food, the Dane didn't move very much. He just nuzzled more into his lover's belly and closed his eyes tighter, mumbling something that may have been a 'no'. "Mikkel, get /iup/i!" Finally gripping the other's forehead with his palms, Rueben yanked the head from his gut and wiggled from the surprised male's grasp, standing beside the bed again, for safety.
Another groan, this one of exasperation, left the Dane as he rolled around in his bed a moment, trying to find a more comfortable spot than the last one in order to get back to sleep. For just such an occasion, there was a decent weapon hidden inside of the drawer of the bedside table, and it was pulled easily and efficiently from its spot. Without a word, chilly water was squirt from the simple squirt bottle, making its victim leap from the bed and yelp wildly, running down the bottom of the mattress to barricade himself inside his en-suite bathroom.
After a few minutes of awaiting the sound of a flushing toilet, the Norwegian replaced his weapon of choice and locked it away, padding his way to the bathroom door and knocking.
"Denny?" The nickname was saved for moments when he figured he may as well give the other what he wanted. "Are you still awake,kjærlighet?"
"Fuck nej, jeg er ikke vågen. Jeg fucking hader den ting, du ved det. Hvorfor tror du insisterer på at vågne mig op? Jeg føler mig som lort." After a few moments, the toilet flushed and he rose from his spot, leaving the sanctity of the bathroom to stare down at a stressed-looking Norway. "Ah, damn, Nor, 'm sorry. What's up?" He questioned, trying to pump his usual amiability into his words and body language.
"I've been worried about you for days. You left my house four days ago, have you even been up since then?" The taller man shook his head, which made the worried Norwegian move over to the tray and return with a thermometer. "Open up."
Bending over some, he opened his mouth and lifted his tongue as he was told, a slave to the expression of worry on the usually blank-faced male's visage. He was honestly worried, at this moment, more for Rueben than himself. The way he watched him as the thermometer worked its magic had the taller blond pulling the smaller into a slow and long embrace. His temperature was figured out, and yet he still didn't remove it, just holding the other close and nuzzling him, trying to reassure him, despite the hand trying to get at the small stick hanging from his lips.
Finally, he reached it and looked it over. Without telling Mikkel, he shook his head.
"Get back to bed, right now. You're sick, and I'm not going to have you getting sicker just because I'm here. Are you cold?" He, himself, could feel prickles of sweat and heat staking claim on his body, but he figured he may as well help his sick lover before himself. He also figured this day would be a very long one, because this meant that their old bet was probably alive, now.
"I'm freezin', Nor... But...you could always warm me up?" He offered, grinning some and moving closer to his retreating lover.
"Get in bed, and we'll see if you behave. I brought you some soup, and I'm going to go turn up the heater some more. I'll be right back, and if you aren't in bed, I'll make you get there."
"Alright, alright, Nor." He smiled softer, kissing the top of the other's head before making his way to the bed and laying down closer to the edge, propping himself up on the plethora of pillows that had invaded and taken over the top of his bed. He didn't know why he had so man, honestly, but he loved them all, none the less.
When he returned from the hallway, Rueben wore something that Mikkel had never once thought he'd ever see on his lover. A pale pink nurse's uniform complete with hat, tights and heels adorned his body, hugging it in all the right ways. Gulping some, the taller blond straightened a little as the tray was placed over his lap and his 'nurse' brought over his desk chair to sit in. He took his own bowl and set it on the table beside the bed, slowly eating on it.
"It should be cool enough, now, Mikkel, you shouldn't need to wait anymore to eat it." He informed with a smile, offering a soft upturn of the corners of his lips. Nodding a little, the Dane set into his soup as best he could, too intent on the outfit the other wore and the fact that he could just see those little sheer panties staring at him from the slight peek he was getting between those legs. Licking his lips a little, he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
"Nor, why ya wearin' that?" He questioned, finally, only to regret it a second late. The look he got was so adorable, so sad and so somehow sexy that he could feel himself twitching a little.
"Well, if you don't like it, then I suppose I don't-"
"Nej! I like it, Nor. I like it a lot." His grin grew from normal, to shit-eating, to predatory in less than five seconds and he leaned up a bit more, slurping at his soup bowl in order to get it down quicker. However, his nurse just calmly ate like usual, seemingly ignoring the fact that his patient was feeling quite a bit more awake than he had been ten minutes ago. Slowly, the food was eaten and he finally looked up at his eager lover who practically wiggled in anticipation. Had Denmark had been a puppy, a walk, or perhaps a bowl of food would have been involved, but being a man in the world today, sex was all that was on his mind.
Finally standing, the Norwegian took the bowl and spoon from his lover and placed it on the tray before pulling out a small vial of medicine. He held it up and that excited wiggle stopped immediately.
"No, Nor. Nej. No medicine. You don't even know what's wrong with me!" He tried, whining and looking a little desperate. "Please?" This time, he sounded as pathetic as he possibly could.
"It'll bring down the fever, at least." The nurse replied with a sexy swish of his hips. "If you behave yourself, then I'll give you a special treat for taking it. How's that sound?" While the thought of a treat was nice, and definitely made him curious as to what it could be, he wasn't exactly sure he really wanted to take that vial.
"How much do I take?" The vial was small, maybe an inch and a half tall, and certainly no thicker than a half inch, if it made that at all.
"It's one dose, right here. It isn't even all the way full. Just knock it back like your precious drinks." The nurse offered, handing him the amber vial. Looking over the vile liquid a moment, Mikkel through a nervous expression at his caretaker before being given a smile that made him want to pop the entire medicine cabinet's pill reserves for a prize. Removing the lid, he knocked back the liquid and hoped none of it hit his tongue.
Finding that it didn't, he happily swallowed and handed the container back. Turning on his heel, Rueben took the tray from the room, purposely swaying his hips as he walked. It was a decent view, even, that he left his lover with, who could be seen wiping the drool from his lips. He wasn't sure what to do when left alone; he could hear his lover in the kitchen, clanging plates and spoons in the sink, putting things away after washing them.
After a good fifteen minutes, Norway returned, unbuttoning his dress that the Dane noted was now soaked in the front and sticking to him. Even in the warm house, those small buds were puckered and so obvious in the baby pink material, even as it was stripped away they seemed to retain some of the color. That thin, pale body was now shown off for him perfectly, and it was obvious that his precious Nor had added something to his outfit. All he wore, now, lay flat against his body, hugging curves and lines perfectly. A pair of sheer white panties and matching stockings tried to hide his body from view, a garter belt attaching the pair and leaving a lick of pale skin between for Denmark's oggling pleasure. Those white heels he'd been wearing earlier seemed taller with a small pink cross on the side, following down to the tapering heel.
"Are you still feeling alright, kjærlighet?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at the dropped jaw he got in return for coming back into the room. He didn't seem to understand just what it was he'd done to make the other so drooly, giving him a feigned confused face before sauntering further into the room. His entire body swayed back and forth as he walked, and he let his shoulders move just in front of his face every so often. "You look like you're sweating, is it too hot for you, now?" He questioned, mock innocence flooding his words and eyes as he finally came to rest one knee on the bed and lean up over the taut body before him. Resting a hand on that forehead, he made a face.
"Still warm as ever, Denny... I don't know if you'll ever get better at this rate..." A pout worked onto those already kissable lips, and he leaned back up to rest his hands on his hips, looking at the wall behind the headboard as if it was insulting him and he had no snappy comebacks in his repertoire. After a moment, he brought that pout back to Mikkel's face and placed it gently against his forehead. "You didn't answer me. Are you feeling any better?" That rich purr overtook his words and turned them sensual almost immediately after they dropped from his lips. All of a sudden, the taller blond's mouth went dry, and the desert poured down his throat. All he could think to do was nod, so he did so, slowly and evenly as he watched the little nymph slide to sit on his stomach.
His eyes widened some when he noticed just where that rear was heading, and he moaned as soon as contact was given. That was a mean tease; Denmark's pants and blankets were still in the way, and he was going to play like that? It was horrible, sitting through the slow circling of those hips, that tempting body rocking and grinding on him, stealing his breath and producing soft croaks of how much he loved it, how hot his Norge looked, or just flat out whimpers of more.
This torture continued for a few minutes, hands moving to rest on that taut stomach not long after he'd started. When he felt his time for thought and torture had finished, the lighter blond rose from his position and pulled down the covers slowly, folding them back. Once they were safely resting at the foot of the bed, his attention turned to those pants. It hardly took a minute for them to be removed and left in a pile on the floor, something very interesting springing to life at the base of those somewhat pasty hips. Licking his lips, the Norwegian threw a very naughty look up at his lover that made him shiver.
"Are you ready for your..." Pausing for a lick at the slit that earned him a drop of precum, he smirked, "Treat, Denny?" He purred, suddenly planting slow, open-mouthed kisses all along the length and girth of his lover's cock. It twitched and throbbed under his ministrations, continuing to drain the blood from the Dane's head and gorge itself with it. The way it became slicker because of both its own pitiful weeping for more and that Norwegian mouth had consistent gasps leaking forth from the Dane's mouth, moans and wiggles following each movement.
After making sure it was nearly dripping in precum and saliva, the smaller male slurped his way back to the head, sucking gently at the slit by itself, giving it a teasing tongue to drool around. The flavor his lover worked into his cum wasn't the most pleasant, but it wasn't horrid, either, so he was happy to do this for him. Soon, he suckled more in until his teeth rest gently around the flared edges signaling the start of the shaft, hollowing his cheeks to really suck every few seconds.
There must have really been something wrong with Mikkel today, because he'd never been so turned on by a simple blowjob. Even as his Nor sunk more onto his thick member, he found his stomach muscles quivering and his hips working double-time to keep from thrusting up into that waiting and wet mouth. Guttural groans and growls began to bubble from his throat the closer those pink, pouty lips grew to the base, and he found himself turning into a mass of writhing muscle beneath the other's actions. Perhaps it wasn't his own frailty, but that Nor had learned some new tricks or something? Whatever he had learned, he sure was doing it right.
"R-rue...Ruuuuue...N-Nor!" He rasped, head lifting from its spot on the floor, a few pants leaving those chewed lips. "S-so close..." He told the other, unable to hold back anymore and reaching down to tangle his fingers through that short blond hair, directing the up and down motions of that head. With the speed he was enforcing, one would think he was pretending he was stroking himself off, instead of helping his lover to find his completion. His body was really starting to jerk, now, and his hips thrust up once, twice, three times before he yanked back the Norwegian's head to the tip and blasted his load with a wild cry of his love's name.
After the spasming length finally quit splurting cum into his mouth, he licked at the head to clean it up before finally pulling back and smiling up at his lover.
"Feeling better, now, Denny?" He questioned with a smirk, sitting at the foot of the gigantic bed.
"Mhm..." Denmark still seemed pretty dead, laying on his back with his eyes closed, hand over his crotch and other arm resting limp at his side. He barely moved, save for the ragged breaths he was taking like a drowning man. "Hey...Nor...?" He questioned, blinking those blues open to stare at the other, "Can ya do this more often...?"
"Mm..." A soft chuckle left him as he rose from his spot and he gave a sly smile. "This is only until you get better. I'll find something else to do for you when you are, trust me." And, with that, he crawled up to lay over the other, "Now... I think it's my turn, unless you want to be greedy...?"
A wild grin overcame Mikkel's face and he nodded, "I think I know how we can both get somethin' outta it."
****************************************** AN: Woot! Finally done. Not as quickly as I used to write, but I feel good with all of the interruptions I had today about this. :3 I'm very happy with the final result, and really hope you guys like it!
kjærlighet - Love
Fuck nej, jeg er ikke vågen. Jeg fucking hader den ting, du ved det. Hvorfor tror du insisterer på at vågne mig op? Jeg føler mig som lort. - Fuck no, I'm not awake. I fucking hate that thing, you know that. Why do you insist on waking me up? I feel like shit.