I was planning on using this as a prompt for the kink meme... but then I decided to do it myself because it sounded like a heap of fun. I initially wanted to make it Germany/Italy. And then US/UK. But my favorite pairing won out in the end.
Please enjoy. :)


Gray dawn was just leaking through the already-cloudy day when he awoke to the faint sound of scratching on the front door. Finland blinks himself into waking and sits up, rubbing his eyes to rid them of sleep. Hanatamago needs to go out, comes the numb thought through his sleepy daze. Finland glances over blearily at Sweden, who is facing him and fast asleep, his breathing even through parted lips. Finland smiles and just about falls right back onto his pillow when Hanatamago's whine brings him to his senses.

He'll go back to sleep after he takes care of the dog.

So he swings his legs over the bed, stands, and takes note of his nudity with a flush. Finland snatches Sweden's large white button-up shirt from a nearby chair and stuffs his arms into it, doing up the first four buttons from the bottom. He makes his way to the front room with a limp in his gait (because, no matter how gentle Su-san always, always is, he's just so big) and opens the door to let Hanatamago out. The small white bullet disappears in a flash and Finland smiles after him, shutting the door. He creeps back to bed, crawling under the covers and scooting closer to Sweden, believing that he can get away with another two hour's rest before his husband wakes him for breakfast.

He hears a grunt and feels a shift, Sweden's arms folding around him and bringing him closer. Finland finds himself nestled against a much larger body, his head tucked under Sweden's chin. If he turns a little, he can hear Su-san's heartbeat, strong and low inside his throat.

"Good morning, Su-san."

"Morn'." The reply reveals that his better half is much sleepier than he, and Finland chuckles at the rumble. Large hands grasp at his shirt, thoughtfully fingering the material at the small of his back. "Thought I took th's offa y' las' night."

Finland feels his cheeks heat up and buries himself into the warm flesh of his husband's neck. "This is your shirt," he mumbles.

Sweden is silent for a moment, and Finland thinks he's gone back to sleep, plans to do the same, and then the arms around him tighten and he is rolled up on top of Sweden, gentle, giant hands tugging his face downward. Finland accepts the kiss and falls into it happily.

Long gone were the days of fear in Sweden's embrace.

The kiss was long and slow and more than anything lulled Finland back into a dreamy sleep that is only slightly deterred at Sweden's, "Y' should wear't more often."

And Finland smiled, Sweden's warmth still tingling pleasantly on his lips. Maybe he will.


self-prompt: wearing his shirt.