yuuago: (DenNor - Be with you)
[personal profile] yuuago posting in [community profile] nordicromance
Title: Black Earth, Blue Sky
Author/Artist: [livejournal.com profile] yuuago/Rukkilill
Assigned prompt: Norway/Denmark - Spring
Rating: 18+
Extra notes: Contains outdoor nonpenetrative sex and whatnot. ~4300 words.
Summary: Denmark likes the way it feels to get his hands dirty, and Norway likes seeing him working in the garden more than he would outright admit.

Many thanks to Noyades and Anonymous for all the encouragement! As always, I appreciate all discussion.

The morning sun drifted down, its slim rays gradually growing strong enough to warm Denmark's face from where he knelt by the flower bed, the dew-dampened grass tickling his knees. He smiled and sunk his fingers deep into the earth, gripped at the weed, and pulled. Out it came, after a bit of hefty resistance. Well, he certainly didn't mind a challenge.

For once, he had taken it upon himself to get out of bed earlier than Norway. Usually when Denmark visited him at his comfortable old home out in the middle of nowhere, Norway was up first thing in the morning, slipping out of bed to make coffee and going about his usual business without bothering to try to wake him. When Denmark finally gave in and got out of bed, if the weather was fair that day then without a doubt he would find Norway outside on the patio tending to his pots of herbs or down on his knees, yanking weeds out of the flowerbed, a straw hat over his brow and a look of intense concentration on his face.

Now it was his turn, Denmark thought as he pulled up another weed and set it in the paper bag by his side. The previous night, when they had stepped through the door after driving in from Oslo, it hadn't escaped him that Norway had a heavy-eyed look to him, moving slowly and speaking even less than usual.

"Somethin' wrong?" Denmark had asked as he looked him over, trying to search for any of the small, barely-there hints that might give him a real answer if Norway denied it.

Norway pursed his lips, getting that sour look that Denmark knew meant he'd asked something that Norway felt was none of his business, then simply shook his head. "Long day," he said quietly as he stepped out of his shoes.

You should have let me drive, Denmark thought, and opened his mouth to say so, then thought better of it. "Should get to bed early then, y'think?" he said as he offered his hand for Norway's jacket. The gesture earned him a raised eyebrow, but as Norway handed the jacket to him that look softened into something that Denmark couldn't quite make out.

"Could do with it. 'S early, mind."

"Ain't that early," Denmark said, even though it was - just a bit, only just a bit, nothing to get fussed over. "The trip over here to see you took real long, anyway." He gave Norway a broad smile and turned to hang up their jackets, letting him have a second to think it over.

When he glanced back to him, he found Norway giving him a look that told him that he knew exactly what he was up to, thanks. But then he slung Denmark's overnight bag over his shoulder, gave him a playful shove, and headed toward the bedroom. "Come on, then. Bed. If you're so keen on it."

For hours that night Denmark rested awake, sprawled across Norway's bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling and the thick curtains drawn across the windows to keep out the light. There had been no mistake about Norway looking tired, and he hadn't been exaggerating when he had said that it had been a long day, either. Denmark had watched him from the mattress as Norway readied himself for sleep, his movements slow as he stripped and then pulled on some loose, light nightclothes, all of it less graceful than usual. He must have been utterly exhausted.

Denmark wasn't surprised when the only thing he received from Norway was a soft kiss and a murmured "G'night" before his partner practically fell face-first into the pillow. He folded back the bedclothes, pulled the lone sheet over both Norway and himself, and tried not to be disappointed about it. Unsurprising though it was, he had hoped for -- something. Anything.

Well, it had been a nice kiss, at least, he reflected at about midnight as he tried unsuccessfully to sleep and resigned himself to listening to Norway's low, steady breathing and the sound of the late-night birds singing outside. That was enough.

When Denmark woke he found Norway still beside him, deep in sleep even though the numbers on the clock gave a time much later than his partner would ordinarily ever think of staying in bed. But the sight was only surprising until he remembered the previous night. For a moment Denmark stared at him, wondering if he should wake him, then decided against it. Let him sleep. He untangled himself from the bedsheet, pulled on some clothes, then tiptoed to the kitchen to make coffee.

It was his turn to be the early riser.

That was how he found himself in the garden, on his knees, with his cup of coffee cooling on the patio as he worked in Norway's back garden. Foregoing gloves, he hummed as he uprooted the weeds among the rhubarb, not minding one bit that his fingers were quickly blackened with thick, dark earth. He liked the way it felt to have Norway's soil covering his hands.

Eventually he heard the sound of the back door as it opened and closed. Pausing, he made a futile attempt at brushing the dew-dampened dirt off his hands, then looked up. Norway stood barefoot on the patio with a coffee mug in his hands, watching him. Though he had pulled on some clothes, loose shorts and a snug t-shirt, there was still a mussed, early-morning look about him, even with his hair swept back and out of his eyes and clipped into place. He gave Denmark a nod, took a sip from his mug, and set it down on the patio table next to the one Denmark had left there, which had without a doubt gone cold.

"Ain't usual that you're up like this," he called over to him. "Th' hell happened to you?"

Denmark laughed and moved away from the flowerbed in favour of falling backward and sprawling out over the grass. "Felt like gettin' out of bed before you for once," he said, grinning at him. Norway shook his head and made his way across the large lawn to him, taking his time with it, which Denmark didn't mind one bit. He let his eyes sweep over him and take in the familiar, welcome sight. Even with that just-woke-up look, even with that sleepy look, even with that needing-coffee look, Norway was sure something. Hell, in some ways, that was even better than how Norway usually looked: looser, less polished than the way he presented himself in public, roughened a little at the edges, strands of hair falling across his cheek as they slipped out of place.

Finally, Norway was above him, looking down at him with an eyebrow slightly raised as if to say that he knew full well that Denmark had been looking at him. Knowing he wouldn't be able to make excuses, and that it wasn't worth it to try, Denmark just smiled even wider and slid his eyes over him again to sneak a look up Norway's shorts. He couldn't see much of anything, much to his disappointment, but that didn't matter. It was well worth it to see Norway flush as pink as the roses in his garden when he caught him looking.

Norway nudged him in the gut with his foot, as if to tell him off for it without actually saying so, then sank down to sit on the grass next to him. "Thought you'd show me up, 's that it," he said flatly.

Aw, come on, don't pull that, Denmark thought as he blinked up at him. With the straight-faced expression Norway wore, it was impossible to tell if he was joking or telling him off in that confusing roundabout way of his. Finally, he settled for, "Thought of doin' summat for ya', is all."

At that, Norway made a quiet hmming sound, and Denmark knew that either it had been the answer he had been looking for, or it had at least been satisfactory enough for him to let it go. It didn't matter which, especially not when instead of arguing, Norway took Denmark's hand in his own, turning it over and tracing his fingertips along Denmark's palm. "Made a right mess of yerself," he muttered. "What's the matter, couldn't find enough wit to look for where I keep the gloves?" It seemed that if he couldn't find anything to criticize about his actions, he'd nitpick something else simply for the sake of nitpicking. Typical.

Not that Denmark minded. It was one thing when Norway was serious about it; that was bad business, and Denmark wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that. It was another thing entirely when Norway was prodding at him just to yank his chain. Nobody could ever say that Norway wasn't confusing as hell, of course, but sometimes it wasn't that hard to figure out what he was doing. Denmark looked up at him and saw a hint of softness in his face that was more than just lingering sleepiness. There was something that might be a smile on anyone else, a barely-there tug at the corner of his lips that Denmark would have missed if he wasn't used to looking for it. And it didn't escape his notice that Norway continued to slowly trail his fingertips over his hand, tracing the creases and lines even though there was no need for it; he had already made his point about the dirt. There was something gentle and close about that, a sort of something that slipped straight down into him as he realized it and turned over inside him and twisted in his chest.

"Wasn't that at all," Denmark said as he looked down at their hands, his own palm blackened with earth and Norway's well on a route to being so. "Just felt like touchin' it."

Norway stilled for a moment, and Denmark glanced up at him. His cheeks had pinked a bit, as if Denmark had said something suggestive, even though he hadn't - at least, he didn't think he had. "Felt like muckin' around in the dirt, you mean," Norway muttered, trying to brush some of it off Denmark's hand and only managing to transfer it to his own in the process.

"'Course! Doesn't harm none, does it."

"Not 'cept for you makin' a mess of your own self, it doesn't."

Yanking his chain again, but that didn't mean there was any call for it. Denmark opened his mouth to say that by god, Nor, a little dirt never hurt anybody, did it, and besides that the garden needed weeding and you were real tired so it was the least what could be done, an' - but before he could get a word out Norway bent to kiss him, pressing him down against the grass with one hand and gripping at his wrist with the other and effectively stopping any word at all from coming out of his mouth.

Oh. Well, then.

Denmark played over the previous conversation in his head and tried like hell to figure out what on earth had happened there. After coming up with nothing, he resolved to do what he normally did in such situations: Enjoy it. He grinned against Norway's lips and lifted his hand to cup his cheek as he did his best to make that kiss a good, firm, deep one.

That went over well enough until Norway drew back from him, frowned, and then took Denmark's hand and pulled it away from where Denmark had touched him. They stared at each other for a moment, then Norway brought his hand up to touch his face, drawing it back a second later with black fingers and a dark smudge across his cheek.

"Weren't thinkin'," he said, staring first at his hand, then at Denmark. "Were you."

Denmark's mind raced as he propped himself up a bit. There were two ways he could handle it, he knew, but it was hard to know what the right way would be. The first was to apologize. The other - by the way Norway was looking at him with an almost thoughtful expression on his face, he could be sure it wasn't that far off - maybe it wouldn't be so -

Before he could finish that thought Norway shoved him down again. Denmark gasped, blinked up at Norway, and instinctively put his hands on him - at his face, at his head, tangling his fingers in his hair as Norway kissed him. It didn't bother him one bit when Norway made a noise that sounded half-annoyed and half-pleased, pressing him down against the lawn and grabbing at his hands and trying to hold him down.

For a moment Denmark put in a token effort at struggling against him, then gave in. He let Norway grasp at his wrists, not giving even a hint of resistance as he pinned him. When they broke the kiss Denmark blinked up at him and didn't say anything - and Norway, for his part, didn't ask, leaving Denmark to admire the view instead.

What a view it was: Norway over him, practically on top of him, looking down at him with his cheeks flushed, maybe from the activity or maybe from embarrassment, his face smudged with dirt and his white t-shirt not faring much better, his hair mussed and soil-blackened in places and slipping from its clip to fall across his cheek. It wasn't a sight that Denmark was about to complain about, and if there ever could be anyone in his position who would, he'd think they were crazy.

"Don't think I caught all that," Denmark said, grinning up at him. "Y'should try again."

Norway stared at him, looking as if Denmark had said the most ridiculous thing in the world, then simply said, "No," and released his wrists - only to slide his hands down and trail his fingers along Denmark's sides instead.

That was just too much. Denmark yelped, squirmed, then grabbed at him and rolled over, trying to pin Norway down against the lawn amid the sound of Norway's protests, which he registered and quite heartily ignored - not because he didn't care, but because Norway had doubled his attack, spidering his fingers over Denmark's stomach and wriggling in his hold. Sneaky jerk, he couldn't let him get away with that.

He laughed even as he grabbed for Norway's hands, catching one of his wrists and pinning it above his head. All of his efforts to grab the other one were unsuccessful. Every time he tried, Norway just evaded, darting to tickle him somewhere else and moving too quickly for Denmark to stop him, mercilessly attacking his stomach and sending him into a fit of laughter that was nearly enough to make him let go.

"Give in," Norway snapped before delivering Denmark a jab to the side.

It might have been sharp enough to make him yelp but he sure wasn't going to give up like that. Denmark grinned and instead of surrendering, he dipped his head and caught Norway's mouth with his own, pressing him down against the lawn as he kissed him good and hard, disregarding the way Norway made a muffled sound against his mouth and dug his fingers into his side. It was too sharp, sharper still when Norway bit down on his lower lip, but almost anything was better than tickling.

Much to Denmark's relief, Norway seemed to decide that he'd rather kiss him than make him squirm. Even better was the sensation of Norway sliding one arm around him and trailing his fingers down his back, a touch felt easily through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was enough to make Denmark give in and stop pinning him, letting go of his other hand. Nobody would ever say that Denmark wasn't the kind for compromise, especially if that compromise resulted in Norway deciding to stroke his hair as he kissed him. Hell, there were few things that felt more amazing than that, and he reckoned if everyone solved their squabbles with a good old roll in the grass and a kiss, the world would be in better shape. Smiling at the thought, Denmark touched Norway's cheek, brushing his fingers along it before sliding them behind to gently cup the back of his head.

Wrong move.

In a second Denmark was on his back again, his eyes widening as he tried to grab his breath and figure out what the hell happened.


Whatever he might have wanted to say, it immediately slipped his mind when Norway, as straight-faced as ever, pressed him down against the ground with a knee against his gut, then grabbed at his wrists and held them. "Ya' forgot summat," he said.

"Yeah?" There was no question that Denmark could pull out of his grip, but as he made to pull his hands away, Norway simply dug his nails in. It seemed he meant business.

"Mmhm." Norway tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, a look that made Denmark squirm. It was that 'I am expecting you to read my mind, and if you don't, I'll make you wish you could' look. Denmark fidgeted a little, gave his wrist another experimental pull, bit his lip when Norway dug his nails in again, and thought hard.

"...Sorry 'bout the dirt?" he ventured.

Whether or not it was the answer that Norway was looking for, it seemed it was good enough, because Norway released him and slid his hands along Denmark's arms to rest lightly at his shoulders. "Fine," he said, but he didn't lose that questioning, thinking look. Denmark held his breath and held his tongue and waited for what would come next, because he was sure there would be something, and finally it did. "Why d'you like touchin' it so much, then."


"'S it your ears what's broken, or just your brain? Meant the muck, is what."

Denmark blinked, then shook his head. Of all the things for Norway to bring up. Confusing. "Feels good. Nothin' wrong with some good ol' dirt when you're gardening. Don't need anythin' else to it, yeah?"

For a moment, Norway looked at him, trailing his hands along Denmark's shoulders as if carefully considering what he was saying. Then he dipped his head and bent over him to nose at his cheek. He didn't speak at first, but by the way he moved, lingering by Denmark's ear, it was clear he wanted to say something. He stayed close, close enough that Denmark could smell the grass and earth on him, feel where the dew had seeped in through his clothing, the slight tickling of Norway's hair falling to brush against his neck. Denmark breathed in deeply, held his tongue, settled his hands on Norway's waist, and waited.

He had nearly decided to give up and say something when Norway finally spoke, his voice soft and quiet by his ear. "Y'like how it feels, then. Havin' my soil on your hands. 'S that it."

Oh. So that was what it was all about, Denmark thought as he felt his ears turn red. That was what Norway had been thinking on the entire time. "Yeah," he said, daring to tilt his head and say it by Norway's ear, doing his level best to speak quietly. "I do."

Before he could say anything else Norway's lips were on his own and his tongue was in his mouth and his hands were tangled in his hair and Denmark did not have one single complaint about it. He kissed him back eagerly, relishing in Norway's enthusiasm, gasping a bit as Norway moved to straddle him. That was better than anything else he had hoped to get from him the night before, Denmark thought as he dared to slide his hands down to Norway's hips and grip him there to pull him more firmly against him. His reward was a soft noise uttered against his mouth as Norway rocked down onto him, leaving Denmark dazed and flushed and grinning all at once.

Any thought he might have had was completely negated by Norway pressing against him, rolling his hips against him, releasing his mouth to nibble at his ears and neck. Denmark groaned and drew Norway more firmly against him, enough to make Norway moan and press down, a movement that made Denmark's eyes widen. He could feel every bit of his cock through the fabric of Norway's loose shorts, hard and growing harder as he pressed down. 'Never knew you got off on dirt', he thought of saying. Instead he bit his tongue and let his hands go up to tangle in Norway's hair.

Every one of Norway's gestures was met with one of his own, rocking up as Norway ground down against him, tilting his head back as Norway kissed and licked at his neck, fumbling until he found the flyaway curl at the back of Norway's head and slipped it between his fingers, a gesture that made the slim nation above him gasp and press down even harder. Denmark stared up at the pale morning sky and relished the sensation of the sun on his face, the crisp fresh air, the sweet scent of rhododendrons, the thick grass beneath him and good dirt under his fingernails. Norway on top of him, under him, completely surrounding him. When Norway kissed him again Denmark couldn't help but moan against his mouth, cupping his face and holding him there as he returned it.

Eventually, Norway drew away from him, breathing quickly and staring down at Denmark as he sat back on top of him, steadying himself with his hands on Denmark's chest. His hair was mussed, darkened in places where Denmark's hands had twisted in it, and his face was even more smudged with dirt than before where Denmark's trailing fingers had left streaks of black, a stark contrast to the red flush spreading across his cheeks. Unlike earlier, by the way Norway looked at him, Denmark was sure that Norway didn't mind it, any of it, or even care. All the better for it. With that look, his hair mussed and his eyes low-lidded and his cheeks flushed with arousal, Norway was a hot mess and Denmark loved it.

For a second, Norway parted his lips, looking like he might give some sharp remark about the situation, or even worse, second-thoughts. Denmark drew in a sharp breath and trailed his hands over Norway's thighs, and that got him the reaction he wanted: Norway shivering and grinding against him. It was impossible for Denmark to keep from grinning as he slid his hands around and grabbed Norway's ass, holding him steady as he pressed up and watched as Norway bit his lip to keep from moaning. He knew better than to expect any complaint after that. The look Norway gave him was enough.

They gave no mind to the open air as they stayed like that, rocking against each other, the friction between them too much but at the same time not nearly enough. Denmark groaned and held Norway fast against him, hands at his hips, breathless as Norway rocked down against his cock. He looked up at him through hazy eyes and didn't take his gaze off him for a second. Norway was hot in the way he moved, gasping, lashes low, biting at his lip as he struggled to not make too much noise. Eventually he gave up on that altogether and let out a high, desperate sound, pressing down hard against Denmark.

It was more than enough for Denmark to watch him as they moved, Norway's hair falling down across his face and his lips open as he gasped, his dark eyes not moving away from him. They watched each other through heavy-lidded eyes, and Denmark wasn't sure if it was the friction that got him off, or if it was Norway completely surrounding him: sky above them and grass below them and Norway settled perfectly over his hips, rolling onto him.

Denmark came with a moan, pressing up hard against Norway, and he had no apologies for that - especially not with the sound Norway made after it as he pressed down and finished, groaning and shivering as his eyes fluttered shut.

When Norway moved to drape over him and rest wearily against him, Denmark wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss against his hair, disregarding the dirt and the way it smudged over his mouth. He didn't mind. For a moment Norway tensed in his arms, as if trying to decide whether he should lecture him for that - or something else, perhaps, he never could tell with Norway - but then eased against him and nuzzled at his neck, not saying a word.

A breeze brushed the tops of the apple trees, sending the leaves rustling gently against one another. Somewhere nearby came the sound of buzzing as a bee made its way around the flowerbeds. Denmark closed his eyes and let the sunlight wash over him and listened to the sound of his partner's breathing: rushed, then slow, slower, until finally Norway was soft and easy in his arms.

"Should let you do my gardenin' more often," Norway murmured.

Denmark couldn't help but grin as he felt Norway's lips tilt into a smile. "Yeah?"


"Bet you just like seein' me on my knees," Denmark said, muttering by Norway's ear. He got a jab to the side for it, and some grumbling about how that hadn't been what he meant, but it was worth it to feel Norway blush against his throat.

Even if it wasn't likely to end the same way, he'd do it, Denmark thought. And he wouldn't wear gloves next time, either.

Date: 2012-08-09 06:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ravn90.livejournal.com
Only you can make gardening sexy.
my hat off to you Yuu.

Date: 2012-08-11 01:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ravn90.livejournal.com
Indeed it is! 8D

I love your work~
Your writing style (and plots) never fail to make me smile

Date: 2012-08-22 10:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kapusta17.livejournal.com
I feel like a kid who just got off a carnival ride. "Let's do it again! Let's do it again!"

Also, omygod, I never knew I had a kink for soil. How embarrassing... The whole time I was wondering what exactly the soils of Norway felt like. Sandy? Clay-ey? Humus-ey? Lotsa earthworms poking out?

Denmark's running Norway-analysis was adorable, and I just loved the whole thing!


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