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The carpet is rough against his knees, but it burns less than the sweetness in Finland’s voice and the smiling lack of innocence in his expression when he snaps his fingers at Sweden and commands, “Come here.”
Naked but for the glasses Finland allowed him to keep, Sweden crawls slowly across the living room floor, warmed by the friction of skin on carpet as he holds Finland’s wide-eyed gaze and tries not to feel ashamed of how hard he already is, cock flush and heavy between his legs as he waits for Finland to tell him what to do next. Finland watches eagerly, perched on the edge of the couch with his feet spread wide enough that Sweden can see the curve of his cock beneath his thin boxer-briefs and Sweden wants to lick the thick ridge, wants to be given permission to taste the wetness that stains blue fabric dark.
“Take your time,” Finland says, hand dropping to the lap Sweden wants rocking into his face, fingers dragging up and down the front of his underwear. “I want to enjoy this,” Finland murmurs, before his voice turns darker, edged with intent and certainty as he beckons Sweden nearer, “I expect you to make sure I enjoy this.”
Sweden nods, bites his tongue and feels grateful that he’s never been a man for many words because there’s not a damned thing he could say that won’t sound like begging and Finland told him not to talk unless Finland said he wanted to hear his voice. He moves slowly on hands and knees, fingers grasping at the carpet they’d picked out together. He moves slowly and holds Finland’s shameless, delighted stare that makes him impossibly more turned on as he watches Finland stoke himself through his underwear and listens to him hum approvingly when Sweden finally reaches the spread of his legs. He peers up at Finland, drinks in the easy desire in his familiar face, heart racing as he waits for Finland to want him and hopes that he will let Sweden touch him before his hands rebel against submissiveness and wrap around the sweetness of Finland’s thigh.
He watches more eagerness than he should when Finland laughs brightly and slides his foot under Sweden’s bowed chest and then to the curve of his neck to the jut of his chin, tipping Sweden’s head up, up, up until he’s pinned beneath the weight of Finland’s lusty and mischievous gaze. Finland pushes his toes against Sweden’s unsmiling but greedy lips, cheeks flushing red as Sweden sees his hand disappear beneath the band of the underwear Sweden wants to take off with his teeth.
“Kiss me only where I tell you and when I tell you,” Finland says with so much lush enjoyment that Sweden knows he’ll never want to take orders from anyone else again. Finland smiles at him, winks and settles against the couch cushions, breathing out, “Kiss each toe.”
Sweden obliges, slipping his tongue between the toes he takes into his mouth, keeping his eyes open so he can watch Finland’s eyes flutter open and shut, so he can play just a little bit dirty from down on his knees because he knows what it does to Finland when Sweden looks at him like he’d follow him into Heaven or Hell. Finland sighs and wriggles when Sweden nips the tips of his toes and kisses the bridge of his foot, happy little noises of pleasure that have him seconds away from giving up the game and smothering Finland’s smile with his appreciative mouth.
“Very good,” Finland murmurs, laughing lightly when Sweden kisses each toe. “Higher.”
Sweden takes advantage of such a vague order, exploits Finland’s inability to stay focused when he’s half-drunk on lust and power by pushing between the spread of his knees to press hot, wet kisses to his thighs and trace his tongue just below the edge of his underwear, testing Finland’s limits and his own patience. He tickles the hollow of Finland’s knee and circles the bones of his ankle, distracting him from the insurgency of his mouth with the tease of his fingers. Finland hums and shifts forward just enough so his the base of his cock is pressed to Sweden’s cheek, so hot and hard Sweden believes he can get away with turning his face to take the Finland’s underwear between his teeth and pull.
Then Finland’s hands are in his hair, twisting sharply for all that his chastisement is false sweetness. “Ah-ah, did I say you could have that?” Finland taunts cheerfully, tugging on Sweden’s hair until his head is titled all the way back and Finland’s leering at him.
Sweden swallows his moan and shakes his head, hoping he appears contrite enough that Finland will let him continue, but not so sorry that Finland won’t be a keep playing rough, because some nights he likes it when Finland takes every advantage he’s always had.
“So greedy, Sweden,” Finland tsk-tsks, dragging a hand down his cheek, slapping him just hard enough to make it sting before popping his thumb between Sweden’s gasping lips and pressing on his tongue. “You’ll have me when I say you can have me. Do you understand?”
Sweden sucks on his thumb, slides his tongue around the finger like its the cock he’d rather have between his lips and down his throat, nodding meekly as he can as the former Lion of the North. Ever so slowly, Finland pulls him forward, pushes his face towards the hard arch of his cock, stopping only when Sweden’s so close he can feel the heat of skin beneath cotton and he curses Finland for a smiling and cruel tease.
“Do you want this so badly?” Finland asks, brushing his wet thumb over Sweden’s cheek and then down the slope of his throat to feel the racing pulse that gives him away. Sweden blinks at Finland and hopes that the fact that he’s so hard without a single touch tells Finland everything he needs to know about how damned much he wants this. Finland smiles sweetly, bends down to kiss the corner of his mouth and lick his lips, whispering, “Its alright, you can tell me.”
“Yes. Always.” Sweden says quickly, a little embarrassed by how rough and needy his voice sounds, but Finland seems to love it, hands sudden fluttering instead of pulling and hips pushing up and off the couch so fast he’s not quite ready for the cock rubbing up the side of his face.
“Touch me,” Finland groans, fingers scrabbling back into Sweden’s hair and guiding him down, “Use your hands, use your tongue, use your teeth, but get these things off me.”
Sweden did not need to be told twice, more than ready to see Finland’s underwear brightening the carpet that burned his knees. Finland’s cock was red and flush, salt slick beneath the slow drag of his tongue as he tastes the wetness of the tip and held his lips just above the head, repaying the tease with a long, slow, blink and a murmur of, “And?”
Finland laughs breathlessly and pushes his cock into Sweden’s open and waiting mouth. “Suck me. Make me come.”
Sweden groans and dips his head to take Finland against his tongue, letting Finland push and pull him as he would as he listened to Finland’s moans and tasted his pleasure. He circles his fist around Finland’s cock and strokes as he lets Finland fuck his mouth, eyes falling shut when Finland’s hips shift from the couch and Sweden feels the burn of warmth in his throat and the sting of his hair being twisted around greedy fingers.
“Keep your eyes open,” Finland commands lowly and Sweden is helpless but to obey. “Yes, watch me watching you,” Finland babbles, licking his lips and still rocking his hips forward, cock slipping in and out of Sweden’s mouth, slick from Sweden’s tongue. “Watch me watching you take me so deep. Watch me watching you touch yourself.”
Sweden groans in relief and drops a hand between his legs, stroking himself desperately as he held Finland’s gaze and loved how much Finland loved him in that moment. He touches Finland, touches and tastes and sucks and swallows, keeping his eyes open because Finland had wanted that and he wants what Finland wants.
“So good, so good,” Finland murmurs absently, finally giving up on his promise to watch Sweden as his mouth falls open and his eyes close, pushing into the dip and pull of Sweden’s ministrations with such abandon, Sweden has to take his hand from Finland’s cock to pin down his hips. “Please, please,” Finland begs and Sweden knows he could laugh from how the tables have turned, but he would rather suck Finland hard and deep, tongue pressed to the underside of his cock as he takes him into his throat and gives a wordless order for Finland to come.
Finland makes a broken noise, thighs quivering around Sweden’s face as he spills hot and thick into Sweden’s mouth. Sweden kisses his cock, kisses the shiver of his stomach and waits for Finland to open his eyes and tell him what he wants, what he needs. Finland sighs and trembles, arm thrown over his face until Sweden nips at his hipbone. Finland glares at him playfully, cheeks still flushed red and still drinking in great gasps of air as he snaps his fingers and gives his last order:
“Tell me how much you love me.”
Sweden smiles with swollen lips and then surges forward to kiss Finland’s laughing mouth, sharing the taste of sticky salt as he finally allows himself to come, mumbling, “Too much.”