Prompt: 'Oh, the things I'd do to you if we were alone'
It was Christmastime, and this year the five of them had agreed to spend it at Sweden's place. Finland preferred the tasteful decorations of his own home, but he had to admit, there was something endearing about the paper-chain explosion Sweden's living room now resembled.
'Nice job, Ruotsi.' he murmured. Sweden's work-roughened hand took his own, a thumb skimming over the knuckles.
'Thanks, Fin.' He fumbled in his pocket for something, and pulled out a crumpled sprig of mistletoe. Finland had to laugh.
'Smooth,' he said, moving to meet Sweden's lips all the same. They were about to meet when a small shriek burst from the door, followed by hurried shushing. Annoyance flashed across Finland's face.
'Peter, is that you?' A muffled conversation seemed to be taking place in the next room. At last Sealand walked in, a sheepish-looking Denmark behind him.
'I was about to stop you guys, 'cause frankly that was disgusting,' he said. 'But then Uncle Den saw, and started making a video.'
'And you didn't stop him?' Sweden shot his brother an irritated glance.
'Sorry, Sve,' he managed. 'But Nor's always playing hard to get, so I thought if I showed him this-'
'Showed me what?' Norway's pale head appeared around the doorframe. Instantly Denmark tried to smile, smoothing his hair with one hand and placing the other nonchalantly on his hip.
'Just a little video, Norge. Nothing to worry about.' Norway frowned, but didn't enquire further. He flopped down into a chair, and did his best not to complain when Denmark squeezed in next to him. Sweden dropped an arm around Finland's waist.
'D'you remember that time during the war, about 1942?' he murmured. 'We didn't have anything for Christmas dinner, so you went out and bought two dozen frozen potatoes instead.' Finland smiled at the memory, curling further into Sweden's side.
'They took four hours to peel, and by the time I was done, it was midnight and I had bleeding fingers.' He left the next part unsaid- how Sweden had bandaged each finger carefully, wiping off the blood, then kissed him just as the bells rang out for Christmas Day. 'And the night after, Ruotsi. Remember that?' He gave Sweden a little nudge, moving so close to him he was practically in his lap.
'How could I forget?' whispered Sweden in his ear. He pressed his lips to Finland's neck, hands moving steadily down from his shoulders.
'Ahem.' Norway coughed, with an insistent flicker of the eyes to Sealand. Sweden muttered an apology, but Finland simply stayed where he was, reliving that most magical of Christmas nights. Every touch made more precious because we did not know if we would live the war out. He could still feel the phantom caresses all over his body, as though a ghostly Sweden was reenacting it for him. Finland shivered. And Sweden must have been thinking the same, as he muttered something just for Finland's ears.
'Oh, the things I'd do to you if we were alone.' That did it. Finland grabbed his hand, pulling him up from the sofa towards the stairs.
'I'm sure I can arrange something.' he said, smile small but suggestive.
'About time, too!' called Denmark after them. And thus Christmas night, 1942, was replayed, exactly seventy-five years after the original.